charged toward my companion.
Coming at Kat four at a time, they died four at a time. The samurai was simply a smudge of armor and steel, and when his human whirlwind was over, those chosen eight lay in bits by his feet.
The substantial creature raised his axe and screamed at the insult. The rest joined the choir, and when the giant's thundering war cry ended, his beady yellow eye slits settled again on the samurai. Unperturbed, Kat armed his second sword and slashed at the air like spinning propellers.
The creatures were not impressed by the display, and without order, every one charged for Kat’s blood. I grimaced away, expecting to hear his gut-wrenching last scream. Hectic grunts and clangs of battering metal followed, but there was no scream from Kat.
I opened my eyes and saw him alive still, face in deep concentration as he fought them off, deflecting curved blades and removing limbs within reach. He was awe-inspiring, but the numbers were too great, and it was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed. When that moment arrived, a brilliant flash of heat separated man from monsters. It burned a rich red, holding that wall of evil at bay and forming a protective shield before Kat. It was a paranormal light that no blade or body could penetrate, and with it, a high-pitched sound came from inside, an itch at all our brains. The monsters covered their ears and wailed like hysterical monkeys in zoo cages. I, meanwhile, made myself small against the dead horse while Kat refilled his lungs. An older man’s voice soon replaced the uncomfortable sound, booming out from that force field and giving order to the creatures. That order was to back away from Kat, and they did so with a cowardly, childlike fear.
The claret-colored light flickered its last, the wind settled, and the owner of the voice now appeared between Kat and the horde. Old and rake thin, his crooked body was wrapped in a stained, patchy cloak. The eyes seemed to be sucked into his head, and around them, the skin stretched like a rubber mask. Hair fell greasily to the shoulders and his beard was long and straggly, separating into two hairy points at the chin. Theatrical in his stance, but at the same time disturbing, there was no warmth about this man. He was a living frost, a winter with no sign of spring, and he had everyone’s complete attention.
The monsters remained in a spineless, worshipping manner toward this unknown. He reminded me briefly of Sir Isaac Newton, in that he lingered, as if he had all the time in the world for us. 'Lost your way?” he asked now, voice dull and drawn out as he surveyed Kat. 'Come,' he said to me, 'join your friend, young one.'
Looking to the samurai for guidance, what I got was a disagreeable shake of the head. 'He is a wizard,' said Kat.
'And you,' replied the old man, wielding no obvious weapon, 'are a samurai.'
The wizard’s grin was like the Grinch who once stole Christmas. He lovingly combed a hand down his beard, and then was gone again in a wicked flash of red. No one had time to be startled, for the wizard reappeared in a blink of time, two paces before Kat.
'Scarfell is the name,' he said, 'and these are my bogs, sliced and diced by your feet.'
The wizard resumed stroking his beard, enjoying the curl through his spindly fingers. Kat meanwhile remained on a knife’s edge; stone-faced and irritated. He was not a man for stalemates, and thus informed the wizard and his animals how things were going to be. 'Those who attack,' he grunted, 'will fall.'
Scarfell reflected respect back to Kat, but the hog-faced creature gripping that battleaxe was not one to be threatened. He left the meek crowd with glowering intent, grinding his teeth for the samurai. 'Now now, Grutas!' said Scarfell, raising a composed hand. 'What did you expect, my large friend? After all, this is the Kat we are dealing with here.'
Grutas spat then tossed his axe petulantly to the mud.
'Pick up that weapon,' said Scarfell, thinly. 'Pick it up…now.'
Testing the wizard's patience no further, the giant retrieved his axe and concealed himself from Scarfell's sight.
'What do you want?' asked Kat. “What would a wizard want with me?”
'Enough of the pleasantries, then,” he replied. “You and that man are trespassing on my property. These woods belong to me. And there will be a penalty for this lack of respect.'
'We don't mean any harm,' I interrupted. 'How do you know us?'
'I know all that goes on here,' he answered. 'I know all about you, samurai. The only man to ever fight his way out of hellfire. The only one to escape the flames. Your name is synonymous with slaughter. I thought it would take a hundred of my bogs to surround you.'
Amused, the wizard inspected the butchered pieces underneath him. 'Should have brought two hundred.'
Fought his way out of hellfire, I heard, adding newer pieces to my sketchy profile. At this point, I decided to stand, and as I did, I caught sight of something suspicious in the trees. There, loitering in a slim gap between trunks, was a stag or pony. This animal was not shuffling aimlessly, but watching us with considering eyes and an intelligent brain behind them. 'What the…'
The stag was forgotten as my attention returned to Kat, who in an outburst of hot-blooded frustration, swung his swords into Scarfell. The frail wizard was somehow too fast for even Kat's steel. He disappeared in that haze of brilliant red, then reappeared quite unexpectedly behind me, pressing a knife against my swallowing Adam’s apple. Strength left me, and for the first time, Kat expressed genuine surprise on his face. 'Drop him, sorcerer!' he exclaimed, furious. 'Drop him now!'
Scarfell cackled through a mouth of broken teeth and fetid breath. 'How well you can defend yourself, samurai,' he said, 'but not this pathetic man!'
The scene pleased Grutas immensely; the beast hooted along with the rest of the bogs.
'Now,' Scarfell added, with some calm, 'you will drop your swords, Kat.”
“If I don’t?”
“If you don’t,” he tittered, “then I rip this boy’s voice out!'
I squawked from the piercing blade and Kat grudgingly, hatefully, threw down his swords, appearing equally disappointed in me as he was with himself. Scarfell then removed the knife from my throat and forced my face to the dirt, clogging my airways with filth.
'Enough!' yelled Kat, and thankfully, the wizard relinquished. Weaponless, Kat stood at the mercy of this old man, but was unafraid. 'The bird was your doing,' he growled. “Your…magic.”
'It was, samurai, of course it was. Observing your progress through my woodland, I decided to have my little fun with you. I wanted to see the Kat in action. And may I say what a magnificent specimen you are still; your reputation is thoroughly deserved.'
Leaving me spitting out dollops of muck, Scarfell stood, master of all he surveyed and said, 'You are travelling to the Macros, and to that king, are you not?'
'King?' I blurted out, and quickly paid the price for talking out of turn. With his bony heel, Scarfell kicked me in the cheek. Dazed, my sight blurred and my head plopped unconscious to the mud.
6. Who Killed Madam A?
It was a long time before I opened my eyes. When I did, I was laying on a hard mattress with a drilling ache on the bridge on my nose. I slouched up in heavy clothes and that throat full of sickly mucus. 'Ugh…'
Vaguely aware of my surroundings, this was a wonky shack, a cold and putrid pigsty. The stench of manure seemed encased in the walls as if an ingredient in the wood; it was gag inducing, and it covered the floor like a greasy carpet. I rose from the bed, and setting my boots in it, moved toward a window smeared over with the same shit. I wiped it clean with a sleeve and beams of fresh sunlight came through the glass, revealing Kat crouched in the corner. 'Where are we?' I asked, too sore to be surprised.
He joined me at the window, smudged another circle clean, and then gazed outside, the sun revealing his troubled face. 'We are in a village at the foot of Macro Mountains,' he said. 'A modest place whose residents will bring us no harm. They have agreed to have us here, and you will be grateful for their hospitality.'
'Course,' I muttered, hardly grateful for this kind of filthy generosity; however, I was eager to explore more of this modest village in the Distinct Earth.
'How long are we staying?' I asked, scratching the sleep from my eyes. With no response, I left the window
