NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 29 : Scraag
Chapter XXIX : Scraag
Latemorn of Denuo, Third Day of Autumnmoon
Bram tracked the cleft-footed prints farther down the mountain pass, in pursuit of his missing companion. As he descended, he formed a better idea of what he was up against. The creature was a scraag, a bipedal predator, often mistaken for spawn. However, the species had been around for centuries, while spawn only appeared in the latter years of The War. Also unlike spawn, they showed signs of intelligence.
On average, they were a foot or two taller than humans, lankier, with tight, leathery skin. Their bodies often contained deformities, large blocks of flesh that hung off their faces, shoulders, or arms. More terrifying was their vaguely human-like semblance, especially around the eyes and teeth. Usually, they stayed far from human settlements. But in this case, Bram’s defenseless companion must have seemed like easy prey—even as Bram slept just a span or two away.
Scraag lived mostly in subterranean lairs, rarely venturing to the surface. However, Bram had heard of recent sightings. If he was right about these creatures, they would keep the Gaian child safe for the time being. Scraag didn’t kill their prey right away; instead, they brought them back to their dens. Animal ethologists believed that scraag preferred their meat to be fresh, so they kept their prey alive until they were ready to feast.
The tracks belonged to a male, based on the pointed shape of the frontal toe. The depth and positioning were consistent with a heavy load. Bram followed quickly, feeling the wind on his face as he leapt over rocks and ducked under low-hanging branches. At the lower elevations, flora was more abundant, but the soil was gritty, making for some rough footing. Caves were common, so close to the desert. Any one of them could be home to a sleuth of scraags and their hapless prisoner. Bram searched the rocky ground for more signs. Even subtle disruptions, such as scraped surfaces or disturbed debris, could point him in the right direction. But haste mattered. Time was short.
The trail ended at a crack in the side of the mountain, space enough for scraags to take residence. Bram hoped his skills hadn’t failed him. He had no torch or luminess to light the dark interior, so he used an old technique from his wilderness training. He closed his eyes and opened his other senses. The faint scent of charcoal wafted to his nose, and a subtle draft brushed against his face. His ears detected movement. Drawing his sword, he tapped it against the cave walls to navigate its twists and turns.
As he progressed, he heard the soft, guttural language of the scraag. Focused and alert, he crept silently. In the heart of the cave, a small fire cast an orange glow on the surroundings. His heart surged when he sighted the child on a bed of dry leaves on one side of the cavern. She was alone, while the voices came from two scraags on the opposite side. Both were female, but one lay motionless on the ground, as if suffering from some kind of affliction. Bram had expected a male, based on the tracks, but it was nowhere to be seen. He inched forward, hoping to get a better view, when he caught movement.
He dodged, just in time to avoid a blunt object thrust at his skull. Bram swung around to find a creature wielding a log as an improvised weapon. Too large for humans, but not for a seven-foot scraag. It readied the log for a second swing. Bram leapt to the side, calling on his armor’s enchantments for better maneuverability.
His lanky opponent swung the log back and forth, but Bram kept agile. When he saw his opportunity, he struck, grazing the scraag along the waist. Any normal blade would have slid off the scraag’s tough hide, but Bram’s sword rent a sizable gash. Blood oozed, and the scraag retreated into the shadows. The sword’s toxins had sealed its fate, but the danger was far from over.
To his side, the female joined the fray with a burning branch from the fire pit. She jabbed it forward, forcing Bram against the cave wall. With no space left to retreat, he received her blows, which barely registered through his protective armor. However, the female left him cornered, while an angrier and more aggressive male readied a second attack. Despite its mortal wound, it returned with renewed strength.
With scraags on both sides, Bram changed tactics. He used a roundhouse kick to defend against the female’s branch, while keeping the male at bay with his sword. He then switched and struck at the female. She dodged, while the male leapt forward with his log. He hit Bram squarely across the chest, sending him reeling. His armor softened the blow, but reverberating spikes of pain shot throughout his body. His vision blurred, so he struck back blindly, trusting his instincts. His sword sliced across the male’s stomach, spilling its gut to the cave floor.
The creature died instantly, giving Bram a chance to confront the female. Stars swirled around his vision, but the female had already fled to the back of the chamber, where the child slept. Bram followed, careful not to make any moves that would place the hostage at risk.
To his side, the second female crawled along the floor, wheezing heavily. It was sick and in no condition to fight. Satisfied that he would not have another attacker, Bram turned his attention to the scraag in the corner. It cradled the child in its arms, almost tenderly. Bram was struck by the odd, motherly behavior.
He lowered his sword, wondering if perhaps he could coax the creature to leave the child peacefully. No luck. The scraag pushed the child aside and lunged with its human-like teeth. Bram pulled up his blade, allowing the scraag to impale itself. The blade went straight through, killing the creature instantly. Bram used his boot to pry the sword free. Feeling pity on the third scraag, still lying sick on the floor, he took its life as well.
With the threat now over, he approached the child and checked for injuries. It was a great relief to find her safe and uninjured. She slept soundly, so he took her in his arms and carried her from the cave.
It was time to make a choice. Bram had two potential paths that would lead him to Kitezh to warn their king of Richard’s advance. The first, on the north side of the mountain pass, was a direct route through the desert and included the city of Saladin.
However, it involved scorching sands and a brutal path intended only for seasoned travelers. Even with Bram’s enchanted armor, and even if he navigated correctly through the various desert oases, he still lacked a mount or protection from the sun. And he had no more water than what he could fit in his canteen. With the burden of his unconscious passenger, he might not make it.
The alternative was to stick to the arid foothills and avoid the desert entirely. However, spawn were abundant, as were criminal camps full of outlaws. Worst, it would double or triple his travel time, and he didn’t have the rations to last more than another day or two. Hunting was out of the question, since the foothills had little in terms of game, nor fruits to forage.
His heart sank as he considered the equally terrible options. Even after making it to Saladin, things wouldn’t get any easier. He lacked the coin to fully restock supplies, and the journey to Kitezh’s capital, Rungholt, would take even longer.
He had other worries, too. He didn’t know if Rosa was safe, and he had no way to check on her. Saladin lacked both a wizard’s enclave or a sorcerer’s circle to communicate over long distances. He had no choice but to move ahead and hope the talented sorceress had the resourcefulness to stay out of trouble.
As for the child, he worried about her extended slumber. With no major injuries, she should have woke by now. Although, her experiences in the Ur valley were horrific, and she had expended incredible energy to summon the red giant. Her body and mind might both need more time to recover. Even so, if she slept too long, she would be susceptible to dehydration or starvation.
He had to choose, one way or the other, and a trek across the foothills was the poorer option. A single encounter with mighty spawn or well-equipped bandits would threaten the child’s life. The desert was just as lethal, but at least his enchanted armor offered some protection, and he could fill his canteen by visiting the various oases.
The only thing left was to march forward.