The Far Wild

27 - And Now For My Grand Exit

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Senesio

“Senesio’s a swordsman of legend!” I shouted, laughing as I ran.

The closest wendiguar, somewhere a few paces back and to the left, echoed the words back at me and I laughed all the harder for it.

Say what you wanted about wendiguars, but they were a complimentary bunch.

“He’s also devilishly handsome!”

Silence, this time. Rude.

And then something slammed into my back. There was a splintering of wood and I was stumbling forward, reaching wildly for the ground I couldn’t see. My foot slammed into something and I stopped fighting the fall, instead throwing myself forward and tucking into a roll. I hit shoulder first, then the ground rolled across my back, over the shield slung there. My heels slammed into the soil and I dug in, relying on momentum to carry me up onto my feet again.

Something squelched in the wet ground off to my right and I ducked on instinct. A whoosh of humid air washed across my scalp as what was, presumably, a slash aimed at my face, just missed.

And then another of the beasts came in from behind. I could hear its hissing breath as it charged. I spun away, shielding my neck with an upraised arm. The wendiguar’s claws found their mark anyway.

A rising blow caught the shield right where my spine met my hips, then tore upwards, ripping the wood, and then flesh, as it slipped off the shield and tore into my shoulder.

“Gah!” The blow sped up my spin, sent me dancing off to one side until I crashed into the unyielding, wall-like trunk of some massive tree. My feet caught up in the roots and I went down hard, the wind bursting from my lungs.

For a moment, there was silence. The wendiguars paused, as if waiting to see if they’d struck a mortal blow.

Unfortunately for them, they hadn’t.

I slung the shield from my back and faced it to front. Pain shot through my shoulder, burning hot, and a renewed flow of warm blood gushed from the wound. I pushed the pain from my thoughts. Senesio Suleiman Nicolaou didn’t have time for pain.

I opened my mouth, preparing to throw a taunt at the beasts, but found it had left my mind.

“I swear I had something for this... ”

The foremost wendiguar didn’t wait to hear what it was. It came at me like a strike of lightning, if said lightning were made primarily of leathery skin and shredding claws.

I jabbed forward with the shield, a trick I’d used a dozen times or more, and caught my opponent in what passed for its nose. Against a human opponent, that would’ve been it, then and there. Instead, the already battered shield caved under the impact and broke across the wendiguar’s face. It hissed in surprise or pain or, I hoped, both; but tackled me nonetheless. We went tumbling backwards in a ball of knees and elbows. A wild slash caught me on the head and raked through my scalp, tearing away hair and blood alike with a jagged rip that churned my stomach.

The creature’s momentum carried us into several rolls and I came out on top, the leathery little devil pinned beneath me. It hissed, spit splattering against my cheeks as the stink of its last meal flooded my nostrils.

I could’ve drawn my sword then. Could’ve lashed out with a strike that would cut any man from shoulder to hip. But these weren’t men pursuing me. Even the mighty Senesio knew when he was outmatched. These beasts were unnaturally fast. A good thing they weren’t unnaturally smart, however.

I didn’t go for the sword at my hip. Instead, I kicked the wendiguar away and scrambled to my feet, then pulled the flint and steel from my pocket.

“You know I have to do this,” I said, backing up until I thumped into a tree. “I couldn’t let you make a meal of our guides. I need them. And you know, I even like Elpida.”

“I couldn’t let you make a meal of our guides.”

“Couldn’t let you make a meal.”

I couldn’t see well in the dark of the Thick, but the wendiguars’ endless mimicry did a fine job of letting me know where they were. Two in front—one of them to my right and another to my left.

“I couldn’t let you make a meal—”

“And one behind,” I said in lieu of listening to my own words repeated back at me for a third time. “Would one of you mind holding this for a moment?” I ripped a strip of bloody shirt from my shoulder, then threw it at the closest wendiguar. It hit the thing across the face, draping over it like a bloody bandana.

“It looks wonderful on you. Very bold fashion choice.”

The wendiguar ripped the thing from its face and tore into it, nostrils no doubt filled with the smell of blood. The beast next to it did the same, and then the two were fighting over the fabric. I ignored them and dropped to one knee, spilling the javelin-charge bag from my pocket as I did.

The flint and steel clicked together once in a shower of sparks that immediately caught on the oil-treated fabric of the bag and hissed into a small flame. Several more hisses followed as the wendiguars turned toward the growing flame, its light burning in their oversized eyes.

“And now, for my grand exit.” I lobbed the burning bag at their feet. It hit the ground and then black powder met flame and I was thrown off my feet by an explosion.