CHAPTER 14

KILLING GRUSUS

My plan was set. Zaor and I, with twenty of my hand-picked Black Dragons elite bodyguards exited the city of Tarcos on our mounts through a secret tunnel and came out onto the dead plains behind the city. This was the dangerous no-man’s land between Tarcos and the lines of the enemy horde of Grusus who held the city under siege.

We rode hard out upon the plains outside the city the few miles towards the horizon and soon reached the Zaran lines. As we approached the enemy camp I had our small column slow down. Zaor and I rode a bit closer to the enemy and when I found the right position, I quickly had the column come up and then stop at a tall sand berm where I ordered my men to dismount. We checked the area to be sure there were no enemy scouts around. So far the area was clear of any guards or pickets. I smiled knowingly, the Zaran’s as always, were so over-confident. They saw themselves as so superior and would never believe the Greens would ever have the audacity to mount an attack upon them now. That confidence would be shaken this night if I had anything to say about it.

I left two Black Dragons to hold our mounts secure and quiet. Then with Zaor and the rest of my men we gathered together into a small huddle and I went over our plan one more time in a low whisper.

“I am here for one reason and one reason only, to kill the leader of these winged monsters, Grusus. Zaor will come with me, for I may need his help.”

The Black Dragons nodded approvingly. They liked bringing war and bloodshed to our enemies. I could not disagree with them.

I looked at Zaor, he smiled grimly, as ever ready for action.

“This will be a difficult and dangerous task. You men will accompany Zaor and I into the enemy camp. Your job will be to run interference for Zaor and myself, and block Grusus’s men, so that I can have the time I need to get to him—and kill him. Once Grusus is dead, you are to gather into your two-man teams, then strike out on your own for a short time creating as much murder and mayhem in the enemy camp as possible. You all have fire starters?”

The men nodded, smiling, knowing what the plan was. The small device would create an instant open flame when flicked. It was much like a cigarette lighter I had used back on Earth and would come in very handy this night. It was a present to me from Tar-gool long ago, and I had had many copies made and distributed to my men. They would prove useful on this night’s brutal business.

“Good. When the time is right make your flames and set everything in the enemy camp afire. On your way out cut down as many of the enemy as you can, do as much destruction and damage to them as you are able. I not only want this Grusus dead, I want the Zaran horde completely in chaos so it will take them days to get their force back in order and for them to find new leadership. That will buy us and Tarcos the time we need to win this war.”

The men nodded, they were ready and eager, swords and knives were silently drawn from oiled scabbards. This would be silent work to begin with, we would be as the shadows in the dark, unseen and obscure, and the Winged-men would never know what hit them.

“Silence is the word,” I stated.

“We are ready, Jon Kirk,” Zaor whispered with a sly grin. The men nodded, eager.

“Good, then move out,” I ordered softly, and my men silently and quickly followed me over the sand berm and then down into the dark Zaran camp.

The enemy had seemingly posted no guards. I was surprised by this, but then again not so surprised, for it was ever the Zaran way to believe steadfastly in their vast superiority. An unrealistic overconfidence that seemed to be a part of their very nature. I would gladly take advantage of that overwhelming confidence this night. “Follow me,” I whispered and my men moved forward with me.

We entered the war camp of the Winged-men of Zar, a large area full of many-colored tents much like a Bedouin encampment I had once seen on Earth. There seemed no logic or order to the camp design or layout. I looked around and saw many opportunities, a treasure trove for destruction, but I grew concerned for I did not know where the tent of Grusus lay and that was my main mission this night.

Then Zaor grabbed my arm and drew my attention to a section of the encampment that seemed separated from the rest of the tents. It looked like a walled off area separated from the rest of the camp. That had to be our destination.

Zaor whispered, “The tent of Grusus?”

I smiled, whispered back, “Yes. Let’s go!”

The camp was dark, we were silent. The winged monsters were asleep in their tents as my small group quickly made our way to the tent of Grusus.

There were four guards on station at the four corners of the wall surrounding the huge tent, and two more at the front entrance. My men took them all out quickly and silently. Sharp knives across unsuspecting throats and never a sound uttered.

Once we had the outside of the leader’s tent secure, my Black Dragons posted themselves around the outside wall of the structure. There was no way anyone was getting into that tent now, other that Zoar and myself.

“Let’s go, “I said to Zaor simply and we entered the enemy leader’s tent together.

The two guards inside we expected, but they did not expect us. Zaor and I made fast work of them. They died quietly and we hid the bodies.

Inside the huge enclosure, it seemed like some rich man’s mansion with one room after another, each privately separated by heavy cloths of brocade type material that in effect created walls for each of the rooms. I motioned to Zaor, we had to be quiet, for sound traveled easily in such a place. We quietly began our search.

Where was Grusus? I began to get a bad feeling. Dark doubts came into my thoughts. Was he even here at all? Had our intelligence been wrong? Had our scouts made a mistake seeing him here when he was not here? Or had he been called away?

I looked at Zaor with concern.

“I am sure he is here,” Zaor whispered. I shook my head, I was not so sure.

Zaor and I quickly but carefully walked through the various chambers of the huge tent. Most of the rooms or separate sections were empty, it was frustrating. In one room we did see a warrior sleeping and I thought this might be Grusus, but it turned out to not be the Zaran leader. Zaor cut his throat quickly and most efficiently and we moved on.

We went into another room of the tent, and here we found ourselves in a room of green females, slaves who were chained and sleeping. This posed a problem, but they must be freed. I motioned to Zaor and he understood and nodded acknowledgement. He quickly went to release the women as I went into the next and last room of the huge enclosure. I knew Zaor would carefully wake the women and quietly, one by one, free them.

While Zaor did his work, I entered the last room alone. It was the largest room in the tent, and it was lavishly furnished. It was a room fit for a king and it even had a throne at the far end—and upon that throne sat the largest Winged-man I had ever seen. He was slumped down upon the throne asleep or unconscious from strong drink. I hoped it was the latter because he was a large hulking brute and if he was drunk it would be much more easier and quicker for me to dispatch him. For I did not have a lot of time for fancy fighting this night.

Suddenly the huge winged creature batted his mighty wings extending them broadly, the terrible flapping sound sending a twinge of terror through me. I approached the creature with my sword drawn and ready. I approached carefully and looked upon the monster most intensely to make sure he was not awake. I sighed, it was hard to tell. I looked at him closely, it was most certainly Grusus. He was silent and motionless and I thanked my lucky star that he appeared to be at my mercy.

Then his eyes suddenly opened wide and his fire red pupils stared at me with sheer hatred. He smiled an evil grin full of pointed yellow teeth, “You must be the one called Jon Kirk?”

“I am Jon Kirk, and you are Grusus?” I said maneuvering myself closer, careful now that the element of surprise was lost to me.

“I am Lord Grusus, the king here,” he snarled.

I raised my sword and ran towards him with murder in my heart.

Grusus was now up and ready for my attack with drawn sword. He did not call for any guards which I found surprising. He was a large hulking brute and as all Zaran’s I assumed he believed he would make short work of me with his sword. He wanted me in battle solely for himself to kill. It would be a glorious kill in his eyes. So be it! He was welcome to try!

“Come on, your time has come!” I growled sharply.

“Your death is near puny man,” the Zaran grunted, then he charged me full on with sword wildly chopping at my body—or the empty air where my body had been but a second before. He was quick but I eluded his best thrusts, parried his vicious cuts and slices, then returned his attack with one of my own.

Now my blade wove a tapestry of blood in and out of his guard, cutting him in multiple spots, but I could never seem to get in the killing blow. In fact, my cuts only seemed to enrage the huge winged monster all the more. He came at me harder and faster, but still he did not call for any help or guards. So, it appeared that our battle this night would be personal and private, just the way we each wanted it. That was good. However, even should he call for his guards to help him now, my Black Dragons were posted outside and positioned to stop that help from coming. Grusus would be surprised that he would get no help this night now. Not before I cut him down and achieved my mission.

“You will die and I shall mount your head on a pike in front of my tent,” Grusus bellowed in rage. I was sure we could be heard now and that the sounds of our battle would alert the camp soon, so I had to act quickly.

“I don’t think so. Maybe it will be I who mounts your head upon the main gate of Tarcos,” I growled back. I could see he was growing fearful, even doubting his advantage and superiority over me. He was after all, so very large, but I had Earthly muscles and that was my secret weapon here on Ares. It made me far stronger than any man my size, and those Earthly muscles gave me incredible strength and stamina. Grusus was tiring but I was just getting stared. He could not understand that he had not been able to kill me yet. However, time was of the essence. I knew I had to get this bit of work done soon.

Then I saw my opening. He came at me with a wild overhead blow, missed me as I sidestepped his blade almost effortlessly.

“Stay still!” he growled in frustration.

I answered with my sword, weaving it through his guard, seeing my opening and sinking my blade down into his chest. I plunged the blade down deeper into his heart. Grusus looked at me in total abject surprise. He could not believe I had bested him in fair and honest mortal combat. I used my boot to push his body off my blade and Grusus sank down to the floor of his tent.

“And have no worry, Grusus, I shall not take your head to mount upon the main gate of Tarcos, for I do not want such a ghastly trophy from any vile creature of Zar to desecrate my city with its foul presence.” This I told the Zaran leader in a bitter tone as I watched him die upon the floor in a growing pool of blood.

Just then Zaor ran into the room, his concern turned to a grim smile as he took in the scene before him, “Well, I see you did not need my help, Jon Kirk. He is dead?”

“He is dead,” I answered, cleaning the blood off my blade using the clothing of the creature I had just sent to the Afterworld.

“Good, then let us get out of here. The women are free, four of your Black Dragons are bringing them back to where we have left our mounts. The rest of our men are causing massive mayhem all over the enemy camp, setting fires, cutting down Zarans. It is total chaos. Lovely, truly it is.”

And it was only then that the sudden sounds of fighting and horror which had been going on all around me now made sense and I heard and understood the cries of fear and terror, the sounds of battle, and saw the flickering of flames for the first time and understood what it all meant. Now the smell of smoke and burning material, and of burning bodies came to me, and it was growing thick and heavy.

“Jon Kirk, your men found more prisoners locked in cages in the center of the enemy camp and they were also released and are now free. These prisoners are being sent back also,” Zaor told me as we ran out of Grusus’s tent and into the streets of the Zaran camp. “We may have to ride back to Tarcos double or triple on a mount, but we can take back all the slaves and prisoners we have freed. We have done good work this night.”

I nodded, “Come on, we have a little time left before we must join the others, let us do a little more mayhem and destruction before we head back to our mounts.”

Zaor smiled, “Yes, let us!”

Then Zaor and I rampaged throughout the Zaran camp causing murderous mayhem among the enemy. We cut a bloody swath through the winged defenders. Even when in the air, they had to come low to fight us, and we were there waiting for them with bloodied blades. It was carnage but it had its function. By now, the camp was in absolute chaos. My plan had worked better than I could have expected and I was happy. Grusus was dead, the slaves and prisoners were set free, and the enemy was is total disarray. They would never be able to mount any attack on Tarcos tomorrow, and perhaps not for many more days.

“Let’s get back, Zaor, we have done enough here tonight.” “Yes, Jon Kirk,” Zaor replied with a grim look, “it has proved to be a most enjoyable evening after all. I Thank you.”