Trees and boughs splintered under the withering fire of Allazar’s second blast, the noises mingling with the explosive cry of the beast. Then the creature, free of its aquamire bonds, twitched its head towards the southernmost group the Jardember had shown it on the road, and began its thundering run towards the northeast.
Gawain charged after it, hurling his arrow at the stunned Gorian blocking his path, the man dead and no longer an obstacle in the time it took Gawain to flip the string back around his wrist. Behind him, Gawain briefly heard the sounds of fighting, but the noise of the Kraal as it crashed through the forest with surprising speed was soon all he could hear. All he could do now was to keep running, to keep pace with the beast. Keep running, and keep thinking.
You must always be prepared to be creative Thank you, Captain Hass of The One Thousand.
It can move surprisingly quickly for its size Thank you, Allazar.
And there are few ways it may be destroyed outright, Thank you again, Allazar, or rather thank you knowledge of elder times.
Ahead, the beast suddenly seemed to disappear in a great plume of white mist, but Gawain saw that it had simply plunged straight into and through a broad stream, the sound of its impact with the water masked by the rumbling thunder of its headlong charge towards the road.
Drowning may be employed. There are no recorded occasions of a Kraal of Tansee possessing the ability to swim. Wonderful, Gawain though, leaping from bank of the stream and trying to maintain his pace as he himself ran through the water. He closed on the beast quickly, but daren’t approach too closely lest it simply halted, turned, and ripped him apart.
But the Kraal didn’t turn, and instead seemed to jink this way and that, slowing a little, as if confused. Closer to the road, the gap between the two groups of living lights its eye could now see unaided by the Jardember and the parGoth were becoming farther apart. Onward it charged, though slower, the noise of its passage louder now as the forest began to thin, more plants and saplings springing from the forest floor in the increasing light.
Gawain could see it clearly now and stepped up his pace, deciding the beast couldn’t possibly hear his approach over the din of its charge. It jinked again, slamming into taller saplings, smashing them to the ground, its body naturally following the jerking swing of its head as it tried to decide which of two targets would give it the most food.
Time and distance were reduced to nothing more than the yards between Gawain and the Kraal, and running, and thinking.
Then, within a few hundred yards of the road, the Kraal came to a lurching, juddering halt, earth and debris flying like the bow-wave of a ship before it. It stood, snorting great blasts of air, its massive head swinging to the left and the right. Whatever diversionary tactics Tyrane had employed seemed to have utterly confused the creature, and Gawain sank to his knees behind a tree no more than fifteen yards behind it.
Be creative! The voice of his old captain chided. Thank you, Captain, what do you want me to do, dig a pit in which to drown it, burn it, or bury it alive? In the absence of white fire or a suitable hole in the ground, my options are rather limited, don’t you think?
Gawain tried to still his thoughts, peering around the tree at the Kraal. Its hunger and impatience would soon make a decision and the road was close now.
It’s an interesting point of view, Captain, Gawain’s own much younger voice echoed in his memory, But how exactly does an officer be creative at the head of a squadron of riders galloping towards an enemy at full charge?
The old and vastly experienced Captain had smiled. You keep your eyes open and your wits about you, look for the weaknesses and exploit them, look for the strengths and avoid them. And do what you think they least want you to do.
Gawain listed his weapons, briefly. Arrows, useless. Shortsword, likewise. Boot knife, ditto. Longsword, probably ditto. Strengths, surprise. Weakness, soft and crunchy, as even the massive Gorian guardsman Aldayan had been. Enemy’s weapons, teeth, horn, size, armour, speed. Strengths, all of the above. Weakness, none… no, not true, Gawain thought. Think! Eyeball the size of a serving plate. And something else. Something he’d seen when he’d first encountered the creature. The same something he’d seen when the Kraal had lifted its head in the clearing to utter its triumphant call after breaking free.
Kraaaaaaaaaaaaahl!
Gawain snatched a glance from cover and saw that something again, until the beast’s deafening cry ended and it lowered its massive head. The Kraal’s limited brain had clearly made a decision, and with a single snorting breath, it lurched forward into another charge, choosing the southernmost lights as its target. Gawain, filled with a sudden grim determination and only the most futile of hopes, sprinted after it.
Nearer the road, the beast didn’t bother trying to avoid the thin and spindly trees that stood between it and the track, and simply crashed through them, clearing its own path. But the debris it left in its wake hampered Gawain, and he had to jink this way and that to avoid the obstacles and debris that whipped around him. Ahead, Gawain thought he caught a glimpse of horses, lots of them, and then his attention was drawn back to the Kraal and the remains of another tree whipping back and around towards him.
At the ditch that ran alongside the road, the Kraal simply kept running, its immense size carrying it over and onto the stony track. But then it dug its massive feet in to the road turning broadside on, sending up another great wave of mud and gravel as it tried desperately to halt its own incredible momentum. Gawain dove forward, coming to rest laying half in the ditch and half out, feeling cold and muddy water soaking his legs. A glance to the left showed the reason for the Kraal’s sudden attempt to halt, and for its earlier confusion: all the horses, including Gwyn, were now galloping north along the Jarn road, most of them riderless. Half a mile further on, perhaps a little more, a large group of people stood in neat rows, watching.
The Kraal’s attempt to halt its eastward motion failed horribly, and after ploughing a huge furrow in the road it slammed into the ditch on the far side, which sent it tumbling and rolling into the woods beyond, felling everything that grew in its path. The destruction was unimaginable, the behemoth leaving a trench in its wake and shattering trees twenty feet into the woods before it came to a halt and began trying to twist and rock itself up onto its feet, snorting violently.
And back up onto its feet it was in short order, aquamire blotches swimming black in the scaly folds of the armoured skin covering its body, swinging its head from side to side. Again, this time in rage and perhaps in discomfort, it closed its eye, lifted its head, and let out its blood-curdling cry. Kraaaaaaaaaaaaahl!
Gawain looked to the north. In the distance, people were mounting the horses and the wagons had been placed across the road, blocking it. It was a futile gesture, Gawain knew, looking at the wreckage of road and woodland around him. But perhaps it might slow the beast enough to allow the people a few more yards head start. Although it did seem to him that their movements were really rather orderly, given the circumstances. From this distance, there was no sign of panic or haste…
The Kraal, however, its head lowered and eye open, gaze fixed upon the bright life-lights ahead, rumbled towards them, striding across the ditch and on to the easier going of the track. Gawain heaved himself out of the ditch and sprinted after it. He would have only one chance, and even that was slim indeed. As he ran, he slipped the longsword in its scabbard from over his shoulder, holding it tightly in his left hand, sprinting hard to catch up with the Kraal. He closed on the beast, positioning himself on its left flank, just to the rear of the stubby hind legs and the blasts of dirt and gravel the three-toed feet were flinging up.