Mr. Andvari approached Adrastos and Wagon-man closely, and stood next to Adrastos. His left hand was on his katana scabbard. His hand touched the guard, his thumb resting on the edge. His right hand rested sweetly on Adrastos’ shoulder. He squeezed firmly, ready to push her aside if need be. Her trident was still jammed against the man’s chest. She didn’t realize such close proximity at a standstill was unsafe for her. A trained soldier could parry, disarm and kill, or enslave her easily. She was too young and too angry to realize the danger she was in.
“Easy, Adrastos. Everything is okay,” he said.
“Okay?” she screamed. “He’s beating … and cages … he fights!” Her hands were shaking with fury. She was dangerous in this state—unpredictable. Mr. Andvari knew that much.
“You best back away little girl. My dogs ain’t your business,” Wagon-man cawed.
“You …” she panted. “Have no right.”
Wagon-man was familiar; Mr. Andvari had seen him before, standing with the men playing a card game in The Salty Crone. The side of the wagon carrying the fighting dogs had a red-footed cuckoo in flight painted on it. Traveling dog fighters, going from settlement to settlement setting up dog fights and betting pools, he thought. It was a popular sport outside Iasos, one that made gambling houses a lot of money, but because of the number of free orea, dog fighting remained beyond the borders. When did dog fighting come to Iasos?” he wondered.
Mr. Andvari overheard Pim wrestling with Rarr, and Penelopas trying to calm them both down. He was unable to sense Maveith and didn’t know him well enough to be able to predict what the boy might do. Anything beyond protecting his zone was bad.
“It’s okay!” shouted Mr. Andvari to the bevy. “Everything’s just fine! Hold your positions!” He never took his eyes off Wagon-man.
“It’s not going to be okay if you don’t get control over this beast of yours and move along,” cawed Wagon-man. Adrastos bristled and pushed her blunted trident tip into his chest.
“We want no trouble,” said Mr. Andvari.
“I do,” shouted Adrastos. “I want the slaver—dead!”
Wagon-man laughed.
“You think a dog fighter travels alone with as much money as I make?” said the man as he tilted his head and smiled. “Such a stupid little goat-girl. I’m going to kill your friend and keep you as my special little pet.”
Wagon-man moved quickly, parrying her trident to his left, preparing his counter strike. Mr. Andvari used his hand on her shoulder to increase the man’s parry against her, spinning Adrastos’ entire body off center, throwing her legs into the air. Adrastos crashed onto the ground, face planting into the dirt but he pushed her safely away at the same time. Mr. Andvari used his left hand to slide his entire katana—scabbard and all—forward, keeping the tip still tucked into his belt. The move was fast and smooth. Wagon-man took the pommel of the katana handle into his nose, squirting blood all over his face and knocking his head backward. His body followed and he crumbled backward into the dirt.
Rarr broke loose from Pim, scuttling toward his war hammer. Penelopas followed him. Rarr picked up his war hammer and hoisted it above his head, but froze. Penelopas caught him and wrapped her hands around his tiny torso. She peered up and saw men moving out of the forest.
“Whatcha got goin’ on, Sly?” said a man with short black hair and thick black mustache Mr. Andvari remembered from The Salty Crone. He and four other men walked onto the road near Penelopas and Rarr.
“Troublemakers, Maynard,” Wagon-man said, holding his swollen, bloody nose. Pim, still on the ground, scrambled to stand. On Maveith’s side, three more men appeared. All of them were armed and armored with swords and bows and arrows, all bearing the red-footed cuckoo sigil on their chest armor. Wagon-man cackled at Adrastos. “I told ya to mind your business little gomena.” Wagon-man turned to Mr. Andvari and snarled. “You broke my nose. Now we’re gonna break all of you.” He tried to cackle again but choked on the blood running down his throat.
Mr. Andvari slipped his right foot back and pivoted, assessing the battlefield. Maveith and Pim had no weapons besides Pim was useless in melee. Mr. Andvari hadn’t seen Maveith train enough to know about him. Adrastos got to her feet. Wagon-man grabbed one ankle but Adrastos spun around and kicked him with her back leg, hitting him in the nose again, spreading what was left of his snout all over his face. She stood and grabbed her trident from the ground.
“You’ll have to kill us all,” claimed Adrastos, standing proud, her chest heaved out. She pointed her trident toward Wagon-man’s throat. “You move on us and your friend dies.”
“Friend?” said Zed, a skinny mercenary near Maveith. “Kill him if you want.” The other mercenaries snickered.
“Fine!” said Adrastos.
“Hold,” commanded Mr. Andvari. “We don’t want you or your dogs. We just want to go on our way.”
“Too late for that,” said Wagon-man.
“Much too late,” Zed said, as he shook his head.
“Can you afford to be without a dog trainer?” asked Mr. Andvari. “I bet those dogs are hard to contain. Probably only listen to him. Am I right?” He looked at Maveith. “Hey Maveith. I bet these dogs are just as likely to attack them as they are us. What do you think?”
“As an orea,” said Adrastos. “I know a lot about animal behavior. Dogs are very loyal to their alpha. But, they aren’t loyal to people who, say, might be mean to them. You know, poke and tease them to make them mean and vicious.” She smirked. “I bet if I let these dogs out they might just attack someone they know who’s been mean.”
Rarr was fighting Penelopas, worming his way out of her arms. She whispered to him, nestling her mouth right into his right ear. He calmed down, but was still agitated.
“Rarr,” said Mr. Andvari. “Not yet. If they move. You go.” Rarr howled, keeping his eyes on the men standing on the roadside between him and Pim.
The stalemate continued. Adrastos eventually took her gaze from Wagon-man, centering her attention to the cluster of mercenaries near Maveith.
“I’ll fight with Maveith if you can take the bigger group,” she mumbled to Mr. Andvari. He shook his head.
“We won’t do well, Adrastos. They will kill most of us before it’s all said and done.”
“We’ll win.”
“Losing all our friends is not a win,” he mumbled back.
From the brush an arrow was loosed, humming through the air at Mr. Andvari, the obvious leader. Take him down and the rest tumble. He popped his katana with his thumb and drew it, deflecting the arrow.
“Rarr!” Mr. Andvari screamed.
Penelopas fell to the ground, covering her head. Rarr ran to the first mercenary closest to him. The mercenary slashed, but Rarr was too quick. Like a Chihuahua, he bounced around the blade swings easily, darting in and out and swinging his war hammer. He smashed the mercenary in the side of the head with his war hammer. The jaw crunched like a bag of coins hitting a marble floor and the man hit the ground. Rarr jumped through the air heading for the next mercenary. Penelopas stood and pulled back her hood.
Pim ran to Geros, and pulled the knot lashing the cart to the old bear. The left side fell, but the bear was still constrained by the right. Geros roared and tried to spin, but the cart was less moveable than when it was properly lashed.
Maveith danced and dodged every attack. He had no weapon and stayed away, making ranged attacks against him the only choice. Like Rarr, Maveith was incredibly fast and nimble. He moved like a dancer, smooth and controlled. His hands were calmly clasped behind him.
Adrastos raced to his side and Mr. Andvari headed toward Rarr and Geros. A mercenary moved to Pim and raised his sword above, preparing to deliver a death blow.
In the distance, a rumble shook the ground. The sound of a stampede pounded the ground in a fury. Leaves and branches crumbled under the sounds in the forest. It grew louder and louder. The battlefield ceased momentarily.
Everywhere creatures crammed onto the scene, surrounding them all. A platoon of orea armed with shields and spears galloped up the road from both sides. Orea armed with bows and arrows appeared from the forest, each wearing a bronze cuirass covering their chest as well as greaves on their goat shins. A fiery red phoenix emblazoned every oreas’ cuirass and shield.
The leader, a tall orea with midnight blue hair like Penelopas’, stepped forward.
“Be gone, you wretched slavers or death shall come for you, swift, but painful!” the orean leader snarled.
Zed lowered his sword and took two steps back.
“Leave your weapons! They belong to me now,” the orea continued.
Zed looked at Maynard, who nodded. Zed glared at Mr. Andvari, dropped his sword, and retreated into the forest in a run. The rest followed him. Holding his nose, Sly staggered to his feet and ran after them.
The orean commander bowed, then he and his troops dissipated like smoke from a campfire. They were gone. Penelopas muttered her last sentence and collapsed to the ground.
Mr. Andvari ran to her and scooped her up. “Is she hurt?” he called, inspecting her body for injury. “What’s wrong? I don’t see a wound. What’s wrong?”
Rarr stood his ground, grunting and howling at the forest. His war hammer was still at the ready.
Adrastos ran to the wagon and climbed on top of the cages. She opened them, one by one, and released the dogs, which ran snarling and howling into the woods after the mercenaries. She then jumped down and looked at the dog lying in the grass. Its ribs were bruised but not broken. It’s front right leg, however, was partially severed just above the paw. His bottom jaw was ripped open and he whimpered. He flinched when she kneeled down and managed a weak growl. She petted his side gently and spoke to him.
“Everyone get back,” said Mr. Andvari. “I need some room.”
Penelopas was uninjured as far as he could tell. He checked every inch of her body and didn’t remember anyone attacking her.
“What happened?” asked Maveith. “Who were those orea and where did they go?”
“It was her,” said Pim. “Those orea weren’t real.” Mr. Andvari turned to him and frowned. “She conjured them, Mr. Andvari. I heard her speaking the whole time.” He stood up and put his hands at a thirty-degree angle to his body. “She held her hands out like this.” He opened his palms. “She took off her hood and chanted. I couldn’t hear what she said, but the orea came right after that.”
Mr. Andvari looked at Penelopas. Her hood was off, exposing her face mask.
“She saved us,” said Pim.
“Okay, let’s get her on the cart and get home. She needs medicine and rest.” Mr. Andvari picked her up and laid her in the cart. Pim relashed Geros.
“I’m not leaving this animal to die here,” announced Adrastos. Rarr moved over to her and kneeled down by the dog. It never growled at him. He grunted while he stroked its side tenderly.
“We don’t have time for this, Adrastos,” said Mr. Andvari as he walked toward her. “We need to get Penelopas home.”
Adrastos was sobbing, looking over the dog.
“I … I … I … can’t,” she said catching her breath between tearful gasps. “Pleeease!” Adrastos never broke down like that before. Her face was drenched with tears and snot cascaded down her cheeks and dripped off her nose and chin. Rarr’s grunts turned to groans.
“He’s going to … we don’t have the means … Adrastos!” Mr. Andvari couldn’t finish a sentence. Everything he was going to say sounded too cruel for her to hear at the moment. “We can’t have dogs at the abbey,” he said. “They’ll never allow it.”
Rarr laid his head gently on the dog’s side and moaned louder.
“He’s. A. Leftover,” gasped Adrastos.
“Leftover!” exclaimed Rarr.
“We can’t leave a leftover. It’s not right. Penelopas would agree with me.” That one hurt Mr. Andvari, but he knew she was right.
“Fine,” he relented. Mr. Andvari turned and ran into Pim who was holding the chest of salt reserved for Leftover Hall. “It’s going to hurt him when I doctor his leg and jaw. Okay?” he asked Adrastos. “Rarr? He’s going to howl some, but I have to pack it in salt or it will fester and he will die.” Understand?”
“Salt,” Rarr repeated.
Mr. Andvari took the salt and packed it around the dog’s wounds. It twitched, picking its head off the ground. The dog snapped at Mr. Andvari’s hand, but was too weak and slow to sink into his flesh. Rarr howled and slammed his little body into Mr. Andvari.
“I know, buddy. It hurts him.” Mr. Andvari moved from his knees to crisscross so he could look Rarr in the eyes. “I have to pack his wound in salt and bandage him if we want to save him.” Rarr backed up and stared at Mr. Andvari, both snarling and crying at the same time. They sat looking back at each other for more than a minute, then Rarr turned to the dog again. Mr. Andvari moved back to his knees.
He bandaged the leg in cloth, then moved to the jaw, which was a riskier job. Mr. Andvari took a cloth and held it by both ends.
“I need someone to use this cloth to hold the dog down while I bandage his jaw.”
“I’ll do it,” said Adrastos. She knelt by the dog’s head, grasping the long cloth by each end. She laid the length of the cloth perpendicular to its snout and pushed down. The dog twitched again and tried to get up, but was too weak.
“Rarr, I need you to hold his body down for me while I bandage his jaw,” said Mr. Andvari. “Can you do that?” Rarr stared at the dog. It was a large canine, around one hundred pounds or so. It was mostly hairless and wrinkled along its rib cage and legs, except for a ring of short, wiry, black and grey hair around its head, like a deranged lion with a crew cut. Its snout was long and it had wrinkled skin around its eyes with random patches of the same short, wiry salt-and-pepper hair speckled along its body. The dog had a slightly humped back and very rounded hind end—its tail either docked or bitten off in a fight. Because of its lack of hair, its claws protruded out menacingly from its feet. The dog had been in many fights. On its face was a long scar from a bite that looked to nearly take out its eyes. Its throat was clean but the brisket had multiple healed wounds. The dog—ugly and terrifying to behold—had long been a winning fighting dog for its master, but was tossed aside when it lost its front paw. A leftover of the world of war.
Adrastos and Rarr held the dog down tearfully, while Mr. Andvari packed the wounded jaw with salt and bandaged it as best he could. He and Adrastos gently team-lifted the dog to the cart and set him down on the bags of salt. Rarr climbed into the cart joining the dog, Penelopas, Ylli, and Yolli. He sat between his friends, but faced the dog, rubbing it sweetly as it whimpered and whined.
Maveith, Adrastos and Pim picked up the weapons left by the mercenaries and piled them into the cart. Pim double checked Geros’ harness. Maveith walked down Geros’ right side, running his hand along his side as he walked, patting him. When Maveith reached the old bear’s hindquarters he stopped and stared at the shield, spear and war pick Mr. Andvari told Pim to lash onto Geros. Maveith stared at the round, bronze shield. It was plain by military standards. Most had ornate family crests or military seals painted on them, identifying the soldier’s affiliation. Elite warriors had an umbo, a convex dome at the center of the shield that helped deflect sword blows. These had none, just like the shields Maveith’s father used to train him. The boy closed his eyes as his hand moved over the war pick.