Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (21 page)

It
turned back to see what morsels remained for the picking.  A pair of great,
red, tri-pupilled eyes scanned the area, saw Knox on his deer, skirting the far
perimeter of the clearing.  Its limbs tensed, preparing to launch itself in
that direction, when I saw the skin of its snout wrinkle, its nostrils flare. 
A colossal, black head the approximate size and mass of an engine block swung
to face me, demonic eyes confirming what it already knew through olfactory
means.  Rightly surmising that I lacked the capability of rapid flight, it
stalked hungrily toward me, taking its time to savor the experience.  I clambered
up the side of the big rock, but I had seen it leap; I knew I wasn’t safe
there.  I jumped from the rock to a branch of a small tree nearby, and tried to
place as much height between myself and the monster as possible before it
arrived.  I theorized, based on its stocky build, that it wasn’t much of a
climber.  I hoped I was right.  Reaching the base of the rock, the cat hopped
effortlessly to its top, and located me on my perch high above. 

Just
then Knox shouted something to try to distract the animal, but it spared him
not a glance.  The creature didn’t look straight up at me, but cocked its head
at an odd angle and peered at me sidelong with one eye.  It seemed that the
thick, armored skin of its neck didn’t make for easy upward glancing.  Judging
by its size this hadn’t prevented it from finding enough to eat.  The big cat
returned its head to level, paused, then abruptly lashed out with one huge paw
and whacked the trunk of the tree to which I clung.  The whole tree shook
wildly, the top bowing first one way, then the other.  For a second I thought
it would bend in two and deposit me on the ground before the beast – an easy
meal.  The tree held, but I was already looking for a more secure place to
roost.  The only other tree within reach was only slightly larger in diameter
than the current one, but I didn’t have a lot of other options. 

I
was still suspended halfway between the two tree trunks when I heard a sharp
crack, and felt the smaller tree give way under my weight.  I experienced a
brief sensation of panic like falling in a dream, but my dubious grip on the
second tree proved true, and I pulled myself to it fully, quickly finding
better purchase.  I looked down to see that the cat had bitten cleanly through
the trunk of the tree, and was now discarding it and taking stock of my new
situation.  It batted the trunk twice in rapid succession, and the larger tree
shook violently but didn’t bend.  I wasn’t at all sure that it couldn’t bite
through the new trunk almost as easily as the first, and I began to consider my
options.  There were no other trees of any size that I could jump to.  Even if
I thought I could land on a moving deer, there was no way Knox could get close
enough without exposing himself and his deer to the creature’s wrath.  While I
was still wracking my brain for a solution that wouldn’t involve me serving
myself up to the cat, I heard another loud crack, and was almost shaken from
the tree as the animal took one huge bite out of the second tree.  Now it
swayed precariously, and I knew a second bite would finish it, and me.  I chose
an option that my mind had rejected a moment earlier, having deemed it
extremely ill-advised. 

Loosening
my grip on the tree, I slid down a few feet.  Then, when I was close enough,
and just as the cat took his next bite of hardwood, I pushed off from the tree
trunk and landed , crouching, on the animal’s back.  It was temporarily stunned
by the impact, which gave me the chance to turn myself around to face its head,
and firmly grip the edge of one of its armor plates above its shoulders.  I saw
now that it was tougher than a rhino’s skin; more akin to a tortoise’s shell,
possibly composed of bone covered with skin.  It cocked its head to one side,
then the other, raised a paw and swatted the air a couple of times, then
apparently realized it couldn’t reach me, and took off at a run.  The great cat
roared angrily, and I was deafened again for a little while.  It threw its body
against tree trunks as it barreled along, trying to dislodge me.  But it was
just too big; my legs were straddling it widely, but still didn’t come close to
its sides.  It roared again, once, twice, sounding higher and more desperate
than before.  Then its speed increased quite suddenly, and I lifted my head to
see the reason.  Up ahead the land dropped down to form a natural gully between
walls of topsoil held in place by an interwoven network of roots from the
surrounding trees.  The ravine was wide enough to allow the creature to pass
through safely, but about halfway through there was an enormous tree trunk
fallen across the gap.  The cat would be able to slip underneath, but I would
not.  I would be brushed clear and would fall to the base of the ditch to await
its return.  Most likely I’d be rendered unconscious by the blow and the
resultant fall.  Then I’d be eaten. 

I
considered jumping, but the log was too high to clear, and I’d never have time
to climb the roots to the top of the gully before the cat was upon me.  I
looked behind me, but Knox was nowhere to be seen.  So much for a rescue.  Out
of options once again, I drew my sword.  I only had seconds to act before we
would reach the fallen tree.  Finding the spot where the armor of the
creature’s neck met that of its head, I drew back with a two-handed grip and
plunged the tip of my blade into the spot.  The cat shrieked and lost a bit of
its momentum, but didn’t deviate from its course.  I summoned all of my
strength and attempted to push the blade deeper, hoping to reach its
brainstem.  It shrieked again, but my sword didn’t gain much depth; the
animal’s skin was just too tough.  The tree trunk looming close, I pulled out
my blade, switched it to my right hand, and jabbed it into the right side of
the creature’s head, just behind its ear.  It screamed once more, and as it did
it turned its head into its right shoulder, guarding the sensitive region. 
This caused a change in its symmetry, and as a result it swerved off its
intended course toward the right side of the gully.  As its feet touched the
sloping surface its momentum carried it partway up the right side of the
gully.  Now too close to the fallen tree, and too high to duck under it, the
cat had no choice but to scale the remaining few feet of the side wall and leap
over the trunk.

Back
on level ground, the beast increased its momentum anew.  I didn’t afford it the
chance to consider circling back for a second chance to scrape me against the
log.  My sword still buried behind its ear, I gave it a twist, and it had the
same effect as before, resulting in the cat steering to the right.  I freed my
blade and passed it to my left hand, jammed it into the soft spot behind its
left ear.  The cat turned left.  So this could work, I thought.  Repeating this
technique as needed, I began to cut a path to the dam.  Shortly I heard Knox
calling to me, and saw him appear, still mounted on his deer, from the trees to
my left.

“Justin! 
What can I do to help?”

“Can’t
think of a lot right now…,” I shouted back, “…I’m kind of winging it.  Ever
take one of these things down before?”  

“Yeah,
but it took all four of us,” he said.  “And we wore it down for a week.”

“Encouraging,”
I said.  Then, I had an idea.  “Wait, I just thought of something.  You have a
net back at the dam?  Like a big fishing net?” 

“We
do have a net, and it’s pretty big.  We use it to snare game sometimes.  But I
don’t think it could hold…that.”   

“It’s
not for the cat,” I said.  “It’s for me.”

“Ok…Tell
me what to do.”

“Ride
ahead,” I said.  “I can try to stall it but don’t know how long I can keep it going
in circles.  So try to gain as much distance as possible.  String the net up so
that it forms a roadblock partway across the top of the dam.  But do it
quickly!”

“Got
it,” Knox said.  “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m
driving a cat,” I said.  “So no.”  Knox sped on ahead, and soon passed out of
sight.  I didn’t know how much longer the steering-through-pain technique would
continue to work, and didn’t really want to torment the poor animal any more
than necessary, so I tried to make it count when I did give it a poke.  This
meant fewer, but more jarring turns, and I was beginning to lose sensation in
my fingers where I gripped the creature’s armor plating so tightly.  I hoped we
reached the dam soon, and I particularly hoped my zig-zagging course would
afford Knox and the others enough time to set up the net.  The cat was getting
tired, its breath coming in rasping gulps.  I couldn’t afford for it to lose
too much speed, or my plan would fail.  I found the place where its armor
joined in front of its hind legs, and dug my heels into the somewhat softer
skin.  I knew it wouldn’t be enough to hurt the animal, but that wasn’t my aim;
I just needed it to stay mad.  I guess nothing really likes to be kicked, and
it seemed the act was sufficiently irritating to spur the cat on to renewed
speed. 

Suddenly
the trees parted and we were beside the lake.  Downstream the dam was just
visible through the drifting mist created by the enormous volume of falling
water.  I gave the beast a jab, it moaned and started to turn to follow the
lakeshore.  The response was a bit slower this time, as it seemed to be
resisting the natural urge to guard the place of injury.  Perhaps it had the
idea to drown me in the dark water.  A second, more sincere stab and it came
around.  As we drew near the dam, I could see Knox, Corvus, and Kuro laboring
to secure the net with ropes about two-thirds of the way across the top of the
dam.  The first rope holding one of the top corners was already in place,
attached to one of the large towers on the face of the dam.  Now they were
pulling it taut around an abutment on the opposite side.  The cat arrived at
the dam and I dug my blade in once more.  It reluctantly turned onto the road
that would carry us across the dam to the far shore.  I was hoping it would
never reach the other side.  The men had the other top rope in place now, but
the bottom of the net swung freely.  That wouldn’t do at all.  They struggled
to tie off a third corner of the net, but we were coming on fast, and I couldn’t
conceive of any way to slow the creature enough to buy them time. 

This
was the plan: at the last possible moment before reaching the net, I would
drive my sword into the side of the creature’s neck with as much force as I
could muster.  This would cause it to veer off the face of the dam and plummet,
I could only hope, to its death.  A fraction of a second before it began its
free-fall, I would jump away from the edge, landing in the net.  The force of
my feet pushing off from the creature’s back would provide an extra measure of
certainty that it would not be able to correct its path until it was too late. 
It required precision timing, but I thought I could pull it off. 

We
were almost upon the spot, and the rope from the last corner of the net was
looped around the abutment, but not secured.  The men had found it necessary to
abandon the effort and take shelter, lest the beast trample them as well.  Now
came the moment of truth.  I lifted myself to a crouched position on its back,
raised my sword high, and stabbed it deep into the tender spot behind the great
cat’s right ear.  It went deeper than before, and the animal shrieked with pain
and stumbled, but didn’t veer off course.  Apparently it had the presence of
mind to realize that whatever I could dole out was preferable to a suicide leap
off the face of the dam.  Too sure that the cat would do as I expected, I
almost sprang anyway, but thankfully was able to drop back against the cat’s
hide without losing my grip.  A second later it barreled through the net,
tearing it easily from its moorings without losing momentum.  The net tangled
itself about the cat’s body, effectively binding me to its back.  My plan had
failed, and now my situation had notably worsened.  Unable to wield my sword
and prevented from leaping free, it was now just a matter of time before the
creature found something else to crush me against.  I was about to give up
hope.

Then
I knew what I had to do.  I don’t know where the thought came from, but I knew
exactly what to do, and somehow, I knew with absolute certainty that it would
work.  As the cat reached the end of the dam and made for the trees on the far
side, I called a deer.  Almost immediately one pulled alongside, matching the
cat’s pace.  It showed no fear of the animal, and the cat made no move in its
direction, indeed showed no sign of even being aware of its presence. 
“Muur-puurrha,” I recited.  I hummed the now-familiar monotone, and a vision
appeared.  It resembled the present reality, but minus the deer, the net, and
me.  I saw it from the cat’s perspective; an unencumbered beast sprinting
through a quiet wood.  Gradually the path rose, grew more uneven.  The animal
had to slow its pace, take careful steps.  The path became steeper yet, and a
change in perspective revealed that it culminated at the edge of a cliff
ahead.  The cat slowed to a cautious stride, drew abreast of the drop-off,
surveying a vast plain far below.  Then it turned to seek an alternate course,
and found to its surprise that there was no more path; it stood on a pillar of
earth scarcely larger than its own body, towering a thousand feet above a
yellow-grassed plain that stretched endlessly in every direction.  It roared, a
mournful, defeated sound that echoed off distant, unseen heights.