Read Kasem – part I of II

 

There is no true escape I'm watching all the time

Sneaky bastard

 

“A shape shifter,” Kasems inner voice screamed, fear turning his bowels to water.  “This explains those stupid birds hunting in pairs.”  The youth swung his crossbow into the firing position, futilely triggering the empty weapon as the monstrous figure leapt upon him.

 

Reacting instinctively at the approach of painful death, Kasem made a desperate attempt to ward off his attacker by raising his booted feet, planting them deeply in the stomach of his enemy.

 

Partial success.  The creatures descent upon his prone form halted, sharp talons raked bloody furrows in the young guards legs, gnashing beak held successfully at bay.

 

The cruelly hooked beak, held back a hand span from his face yet still washing fetid air up his nostrils stifled the breath in Kasems lungs and constricted his heart with fear.

 

Once again Kasem heard the annoyingly accented voice of that dog of an outworld Weapons Master in his head shouting, “Tighten your asshole, boy!”  This Kasem deemed irritating.

 

More out of frustration at having that bastards voice in his head than anything else, Kasem smashed his crossbow into the grotesque beaky face.

 

Sticky, foul spittle flew and precious wood splintered as the ugly creature fought against the weapon crammed in its maw.  Weak, ineffective blows from its elongated arms buffeted Kasems head and shoulders.  Defensively, the young guard kicked out in an effort to push the monstrous form away.

 

Success!  The creature, lighter than Kasem in spite of being larger, was propelled forcefully backwards.

 

With a nightmarish screech that haunted the dreams of future Kasem, the feathered mockery of a man toppled backwards through the open stairwell to the floor below.  Loud squawks and dull thuds betrayed the creatures inability to halt its fall.

 

“No!” Kasem cried aloud.  The creature was inside!  The young man sprang to his feet with alacrity.  No evil monster was going to invade the family compound while he was on duty.

 

He felt hot shame suffuse his body at his failure to prevent entry of the tower by that disgusting thing.  He sprinted after his enemy, racing down the open stairs in close pursuit, feet sliding on stone.  Kasem was halfway down to the next floor when he spotted the disheveled feathered monstrosity staggering to its taloned feet.

 

Pausing to throw the now useless crossbow at the stupid things pustule covered face, Kasem pulled two quarrels from his quiver, and holding them as daggers leapt down onto the invader of his home and now hated foe.

 

Slamming into one another, the two antagonists rolled head over tail feathers.  Kasem stabbed repeatedly with his quarrels, puncturing the feathered torso over and over while his mortal enemy pummeled him with beak and raked with talons.

 

In the thrall of their personal struggle to the death, the antagonists rolled across the floor and through the open stairwell leading down to the floor below.  Bouncing off stone, they landed together on the hard floor with a fleshy splat, a rain of loose quarrels and dandruff shedding feathers trailing after.

 

The feathered monstrosity regained its feet first, oriented towards the front door, and made a staggering break for it.  To be sure, it wanted to get away, as far and as fast as possible from the tenacious and formidable youth.

 

Kasem lurched to his feet second, blinking to clear his vision.  It didn’t work.  Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the fuzzy cobwebs in his mind from the many blows to the head and shoulders he had sustained worked even less well, if that was possible.

 

Screams from the courtyard worked perfectly, focusing his attention singularly on the doorway.  The women!  The evil thing had got by him yet again and was among the women and children!  His beloved Fahtmi might even be in danger!

 

Rage enveloped his mind, blowing through his body and burning away every other thought or emotion.  Cursing blackly, the young man ripped his small belt knife from its sheath, and despite his numerous wounds ran down the stairs and out the front doors as a stone ball propelled from a ballistae.

 

“I see you,” Kasem said through tightly clenched teeth.  The stupid monstrous bird man, limping along on one good and one not so good leg, trailing a broken wing-arm, hobbled and staggered its way towards the gate in a desperate attempt to escape. It screeched loudly, aggressively attempting to scare startled people out of its way.

 

Trailing blood, feathers, and an animalistic snarl Kasem sprinted after what was now his prey, shredded clothing making him look not unlike a demented religious mendicant, dashing past beautifully gowned women behind whose skirts wide eyed frightened children peeked.

 

Leaping upon his enemies back, hilt grasped firmly in a hand barely covered with torn glove, Kasem buried the short blade in the juncture of neck and shoulder over and over again.

 

One of his desperate thrusts hit an artery.  Hot acrid blood sprayed in an arc, no small amount striking Kasem directly in the face.  With a groan and rattling sigh of last breath, the feathered monstrosity finally succumbed, falling face first onto the stone of the courtyard.

 

Wearily, Kasem rolled off the back of his defeated foe to lay on the ground beside it.  He drew in great gulps of air.  Inhaling a disgusting tasting feather, he lost the battle against the urge to vomit, spewing his stomach empty.

 

“Gods above, I don’t know what tastes worse, the sewer like blood or the vile feathers,” he complained to the uncaring sky.

 

Of a sudden, the youth felt the weight of his own injuries at head, shoulder, chest, back, and thigh.  He looked at the shredded remnants of the gloves he had chosen to wear.

 

“Never again,” he vowed, “never again will I wear such ineffective gloves.”

 

All of his injuries instantly felt worse as the creature beside him loosened its bowels in death, the stench hitting him full force.

 

“Thank you, Blessed Gods, for making this moment that much more unpleasant,” he groused.

 

Kasem groaned.  Then choked on bile.  Then spat.  Fortunately, there was nothing left in his stomach to regurgitate.

 

“Stupid birds,” he said aloud.

 

The stories of adventure that he had grown up on and enjoyed so keenly never seemed to mention the smell of a defeated foe.

 

“For good godsdamned reason,” he reflected ruefully in his misery.

 

At least a beautiful large bosomed maiden would nurse him back to health, surely.  Maybe he could even ask for Fahtmi.  She would take care of him.  When he was recovered enough, they could walk under the date palms and he could protect her and prove that he was better than the other boys…

 

Something blocked out the sun where he lay.  Kasem opened an eye and looked up into the unlovely face of the offworld Weapons Master Abraxas.

 

“Well aren’t we just bloody gorgeous,” the Weapons Master growled in his thick accent.

 

“You are not a beautiful maiden come to nurse my wounds,” Kasem said unguardedly, still lost in the pleasant dream of the lovely Fahtmi placing a cool wet cloth on his sweaty brow.

 

Abraxas glared.  “What a piercing analysis of the godsdamned obvious,” he grated, accent thick and annoying to Kasems ears.  “Why are you laying about without permission, bleeding onto my stones and making a right proper mess?”

 

Surprised and shocked at the affront, Kasem made an attempt to rise to his feet.  He failed.

 

“Weapons Master,” he stated, glaring at the older man through the one eye that had not swollen shut, “if I but could, I would rise to my feet and give you the thrashing you deserve.”

 

Abraxas cocked a brow.  “Oh my.”

 

Kasem hated that look.  Oh, how he hated it.  “Yes.  Really.  At the moment, however, I seem to be a bit under the weather.”

 

The Weapons Master barked a laugh.  “Ha.  Yes.  Yes you are.  The gods smile on me.  Still and all, it was a good day, lad.  A very good day.”

 

“It was?  How can that be.  I feel terrible.”

 

“No doubt.  Yes , a good day.  You lived,” Abraxas said with an evil grin.  “And now, for your reward.”

 

At the sight of that grin, unease instantly bloomed in Kasems chest, constricting breath.  “Reward?  What-”

 

A ululation broke through the surrounding crowd gathered about the prone figures that did absolutely nothing to quell the unease that Kasem felt.

 

“Where is that poor young boy?  You must let me through so that I might nurse him through his grievous wounds and back to full health.  I was beside his dear mother the day he was brought into this world of pain, and I’m not letting anyone- shoo girls; the poor boy needs older, more experienced hands- anyone I say, tend his wounds but me!”

 

Kasem’s one good eye popped wide open, despair like a stone on his chest.  “That’s Revered Mother Umpa!  Anyone but her!”  Trepidation filled him as he tried to sink below the stones and into the ground below, failing to do this as well.  “She has no teeth, and her feet smell of rotten fungus and old goat cheese.  Can’t I just lay here and bleed to death in peace?”

 

“No, you may not,” Abraxas said completely serious yet with an air of amusement at the younger mans obvious discomfort.  “A warrior gets the reward he deserves  Besides, you wouldn’t like the ministrations of a beautiful young maiden.  They tend to… prolong… the recovery process.  Heh.  Ha.  Revered Mother Umpa will have you up and about in no time at all.”

 

“Wait. Yes, yes I would like a beautiful maiden…”  Kasem quit protesting and lay back in defeat.  He felt torn.  On the one hand, the Weapons Master called him a warrior.  A warrior!  Fahtmi could not help but be impressed by that.

To the left, Revered Mother Umpa.  As the miasma of rotten fungus covered feet and old goat cheese washed over the young warrior, he pondered how soon he could get back to guard duty.

“Maybe by tomorrow…”

 

*Kasem – part I of II

 

**Alt – text lyrics: apologies to G. Tipton, R. Halford, K.K. Downing