Hello Terramyr fans!
I am very excited to announce that
The Kuscan Demon is officially out today! The e-book version is $3.99,
or you can read it for FREE if you have Kindle Unlimited. For those of
you who pre-ordered it, you should be able to access it right now from
your devices. For those of you that might need a little more
enticement... though I am not sure what wouldn't be intriguing about an
orc that hunts demons... I am going to include a small preview below.
Click on the pic to order now, or read on and see if the opening catches
your attention.
And, as always, stay healthy!
--Sam
Chapter 1
It
had been a bright, clear day with a warm late spring breeze that
stirred up the clover and lilacs growing in the hills to the north.
Torgath had spent the day tracking his prey to a valley he would have
been happy to stroll through on any other day such as this, but despite
the beautiful colors that were splashed across the sky as the sun hung
low on the horizon, his heart was not cheered by the site which lay
before him.
A cohort of fifty men and their knight liege had found his target first, and lost.
The
clover was painted crimson. Gnarled hands and pieces of human flesh
dotted the grass as Torgath approached from the west. Crows circled
above, waiting for the vultures to clear the ground below before moving
in to take their fill.
The orc had seen such savagery before, but this scene tugged at his heart, for this was not the result of a typical battle.
No. This carnage was the work of Beomuth.
Torgath
sniffed the air, taking in the faint, acrid odor left behind by the
demon. Beomuth was prone to use acid and poison, dishonorable weapons
for anyone to employ, but especially despicable in this case. Torgath
walked by the remains of a man consisting of a mauled torso. The heavy
trail of blood below where the waist had been pointed the direction
where the rest of the swordsman was lying in the field. The man’s facial
skin was bubbling and turning black, with small wisps of smoke rising
up as the sinew and bone beneath became visible.
A yell tore Torgath away from the corpse and pulled his eyes toward the top of the hill.
An older man was sitting near the top, pulling on what appeared to be a tourniquet above his knee.
Torgath
doubted Beomuth would leave anyone alive, so he glanced around the hill
before rushing in to help, knowing that many demons employed magical
illusions to draw in their prey.
The orc drew his sword, gripping
the dragon bone in his hands and surveying the ground and skies. Seeing
no sign of the demon, he made his way carefully to the wounded man.
“Get away!” the man shouted. “There is a demon here!”
Torgath
didn’t slow his steps, but he took some comfort in the man’s words. A
demon could only create illusions that it could understand. Beomuth
could easily project a wounded man, he could make him scream for help
even, but a demon could not imitate honor. This man was no illusion. He
was a knight.
As he ascended the hill, he pulled the edge of his
cowl low over his brow and drew the fabric mask which hung from it
across his face, securing it in place with a pair of metals clasps.
Coming near enough to see clearly, Torgath noted a crest of yellow on
black with two fighting boars across the knight’s chest. The insignia
told Torgath which house the knight was from, but the fact that the
knight still held his weapon at the ready to defend an unknown stranger
told him even more. This man was honorable.
“I said go away!” the knight shouted. “Enough men have given their lives today. Flee, before it comes back!”
Torgath shook his head and bent down to the wounded man. “I am hunting the demon.”
“Alone?!” the man scoffed.
The
orc surveyed the man’s wounds. “Your leg is lost,” he said. The left
leg was barely clinging to the knee, with the flesh torn open and most
of the joint ripped free. “You have lost a lot of blood.”
“I’ll live,” the knight said. He yanked on the tourniquet once more and tied it off, quenching the flow of blood.
Torgath nodded. “I can amputate the leg and seal the wound, but I have nothing for the pain.”
The knight nodded. “Do what you can.”
The
orc gathered enough wood to make a hot fire, and slipped his blade into
the flames, resting it atop the white-hot embers and letting the dragon
blade gather the fire’s heat to itself. While he waited for that, he
pulled a few items he would need from his pack; a needle and thread, a
hunting knife, and several bandages. The orc also handed a flask to the
knight and bade him to drink deeply.
“Why the mask?” the knight asked.
“Most
people don’t like to see what lies behind it,” Torgath replied. The
knight took another big drink from the flask, Torgath reached over to
tip the bottom up. “Finish it off, you’ll want to be out if possible.”
When
the ale was gone, the knight closed the flask and tossed it next to
Torgath. “You risk much to save a man you don’t even know.”
Torgath
looked up and surveyed the scene with his eyes once more. “You fought
the demon honorably. Therefore, I must help you if I can.”
“He
took my wife,” the knight said, his words just starting to slur. “Seven
years ago. He took her from my home while I was away. The cowardly cur.”
The knight held up a finger. “I vowed to slay the beast for what he did
to my Margaret. It wasn’t just that he killed her, you know.”
Torgath gave a soft nod. “I know.”
The knight grunted. “So, you’ve lost someone too, then?”
“Someone very dear to me,” Torgath replied.
“They
keep the souls of their victims. They lock them up in these strange
magical artifacts, feeding upon their souls forever. It’s a fate worse
than hell.”
“Yes, it is,” Torgath agreed. He turned his eyes to the knight just as the man shouted into the air.
“I’m
still coming for you, you blaggard! I don’t care if you ripped off my
leg, and killed my men. I’m going to hunt you down!” The knight’s
clenched fist pumped into the air as the man let out a string of curses.
Torgath
watched for a moment, and then felt a single tear come to his left eye.
“I will find him for you,” Torgath said. “Your fight is over.”
The knight looked up to Torgath’s dark eyes and knitted his brow. “You? Alone?”
“I
swear, I will kill the demon.” Torgath made a fist with his right hand
and leaned in close. “Now sleep.” He launched a punch so swift and
strong that the knight was unconscious before he even saw the blow
coming. The human’s body fell limp to the ground without so much as a
moan. Between the loss of blood and the heavy liquor, Torgath was
certain the human would be out for a good while.
It was time to go to work.
The
orc took his hunting knife and worked it into the raging fire until the
blade began to glow. He then brought it out and let it cool before
cutting the knight’s trousers away from the mauled leg. “You fought
well,” Torgath said as made a cut around the knee joint to separate the
skin from the lower leg and the jagged pieces. He then made vertical
incisions running from the circular cut up to four inches above the
knee. His hands moved steadily, his eyes monitoring the blood loss while
he kept his nerves calm, knowing that rushing might lead to a botched
job. Once he had the vertical incisions completed, he peeled the strips
of skin back to reveal the meat and bone. He was able to save most of
the leg muscles, needing only to sever the connective tissue that bound
them to the bottom of the femur. Once the bottom of the femur was fully
exposed, Torgath grabbed his sword from the fire and stood over the
knight. With one, well-aimed chop the bone was cleaved and
simultaneously cauterized.
The knight winced and moaned, but remained unconscious.
Torgath
set the sword back into the fire and went to work sewing the muscle
over the severed bone, followed by the flaps of skin. He pulled them
tight so that they overlapped enough to suture together. Then, once the
skin was put together over the end of the leg’s stub, Torgath reached
for his sword once more and worked quickly to cauterize the skin, fusing
it and dissolving the sutures at the end.
The odor of searing
flesh assaulted his nose, but he kept the blade in place, knowing that
if the knight was to survive, this had to be done completely. A
half-done job wouldn’t do. Even with a perfect amputation Torgath wasn’t
sure the knight would live, as the blood loss before had been
significant.
With the work done, Torgath cleaned his sword and
knife. The knight woke several times over the next few minutes, but
quickly passed out from the pain and general fatigue that had overtaken
his body. Torgath also regularly administered additional ale from a
second flask he had on hand. He moved to some young trees and cut them
down to build a litter with which to drag the knight into a thicket of
trees away from the hill. He then covered the knight with his own
blanket from his pack and then scavenged the battle field in the
gathering dark for additional liquor and other supplies he might need.
Fortune smiled on him, granting a find of three bottles of brandy, two medicine kits, and several functioning crossbows.
He
sorted the medicine kits first, but was dismayed to find mostly
palliative remedies instead of more useful cures and tonics. Still, it
was more than he had originally possessed, so he thanked his ancestors.
He refilled his empty flasks with the contents of one brandy bottle, but
saved the other two for the knight. Similarly, he took one crossbow and
left six others loaded near the man.
The knight awoke when the
moon was beginning to make its decent from the sky, and called out to
Torgath, who at that time was throwing more logs on the fire.
The orc, thinking the knight might need his help, hurried back to the man.
“What is it?” Torgath asked, bending down to inspect the man’s leg.
“The fire, you shouldn’t build it,” the knight said. “It will attract the demon.”
Torgath nodded. “I know, that is precisely why I am doing it.”
The knight frowned, and then noticed the six crossbows loaded near him and smiled. “You are bringing the demon to me?”
Torgath
grinned, despite the fact that the expression was hidden behind the
mask. “I am. I cannot leave you here to fend for yourself, but neither
can I give up the hunt. Fortunately, we don’t have to go after it. The
demon is cunning and greedy. It knows that others might come looking for
the first group of fallen warriors. My guess is the demon didn’t go
far. So I thought it best to bring the monster back. The scent of
roasting meat and the tall flames will be too much for him to resist.
This one is a greedy monster, and he will be fattened with the flesh of
your men tonight, so his judgment will be lacking.”
“Roasted meat?
When did you have time to hunt?” The knight then looked out toward the
fire. The man’s eyes shot open wide, and Torgath knew that the knight
had noticed the pile of human bodies stacked near the fire. “I see.” His
tone was flat, not exactly full of reproach, but it was clear that the
plan did not sit well with the knight.
“I mean no offense, but as
these men have also lost their souls to the demon, I assumed they
wouldn’t mind if their bodies were used to lure the demon back.”
The
knight wrinkled his nose and stared at the bodies for a while, then
finally nodded. “I’m sure you are right. It is a shrewd plan, but
ultimately there is no point in giving final rites to a body whose soul
is in the clutches of a demon for eternal torment. Go ahead, do as you
have planned.”
Torgath pointed to the crossbows. “Try not to drink
all the brandy tonight. I don’t want you getting drunk and shooting me
by mistake.”
The knight smiled and stuck out his hand. “Hawking is
my name, Gadrick Hawking, knight of the House of Lords, sworn swords to
King Esri.”
Torgath took the knight’s hand. “I am Torgath, my house and origin are of little consequence.”
“And
yet your courage and honor are of great importance. I must know whence
you come, so that I may send the appropriate reward.”
Torgath
shook his head. “Perhaps I will have need of a favor in the future. If
such a day comes I will call upon you, but until then there is no need
for monetary gratitude.”
“Just as well,” Gadrick said with a grunt. “We’ll likely be dead anyway.”
Torgath chuckled a bit. “Yes we will fight with honor,” he said.
“And
die with glory,” Gadrick replied. The two of them sat, listening to the
still of the night, each pondering on what the morning would bring.
“Perhaps Nagé will come to claim the both of us when this is finished,”
Gadrick ventured after some time had passed.
Torgath considered
carefully before answering. “I wish that for you, that you may be with
your wife once we have freed her soul from the demon.”
“Do you not wish to be reunited with the one you have lost?”
“Neither
I, nor my kin will be permitted to rest with the souls of the blessed,”
he replied, betraying some bitterness, despite his best effort to
appear dispassionate.
“Come man, we all have actions we regret,
and doubts which nag at all warriors, but you have behaved honorably.
Surely the gods will recognize that. Do not give in to defeat of the
mind as battle approaches. It does not suit the moment!”
“I am
ready for battle. I do not doubt my actions, or my honor, but I am not
what you think,” Torgath shook his head and rose to his feet, pacing in
front of the fire and wishing for the action to begin so that talk could
be done with. The eyes of the knight were fixed intently upon him. He
tried to ignore it, but it dug at him. At last Torgath paused and
wrinkled his nose. “What is it you wish to say?”
“You found me,
nearly dead, and did what you could to nurse me back to health. You
amputated my leg, and have refused to abandon me to the night or to the
dishonor of not completing my quest. You stand ready slay the demon that
imprisoned my wife, and have given me the means to participate. Because
of you, she will be free, and I may yet live. I know you refused money,
but if you ever need that favor you mentioned, I declare an oath to
you, that I will give it.”
“Indeed, we shall slay this demon, and
your wife’s soul will be freed. If I can, I will make sure that you yet
live. All this is true, but you should know to whom you offer an oath of
assistance before you make it.” He paused for a moment looking for
acknowledgement from the knight. When he remained expectantly silent,
Torgath nodded and removed his mask. Gadrick drew in a sharp breath as
surprise and anger flashed across his face, but he did not speak a word.
“I am an orc, cursed by the gods, and unwelcome in Volganor, the Heaven
City. I can never be claimed by your goddess Nagé, no matter what I do
in this life. It may be that even Khefir, the collector of the damned
will pass over my soul at the end of my life. For such is the curse
which lies upon me, that I may be found unfit for either heaven or
hell.”
“I see,” Gadrick finally spoke, though his tone was unreadable.
“As I said, I wear the mask because most don’t like what they see,” Torgath said. He turned to stare into the fire.
Gadrick sat looking up at the orc. “If I had both legs...”
Torgath nodded. “You would challenge me,” Torgath finished. “I know.”
Gadrick sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing I have only one leg.”
The orc arched a brow and moved to replace his mask.
“No, leave it off, I want to say this while looking into your face,” Gadrick said.
Torgath paused and wrinkled his nose. “What is it you wish to say?”
“I
have not spoken amiss. I swear by an oath, that if you find yourself in
need of a favor, you will have it of me. Gods do what they must, but I
find you to be honorable, and worthy of my friendship. Should we
survive, you will find me on the main continent.”
Torgath hardly knew what to say. “Across the seas?” Torgath inquired breathlessly.
“My
family came from a small town several generations ago. I thought I
might go back there.” Gadrick gestured to his leg. “I won’t be much use
for fighting anymore, but if you’re ever in Mill Creek, look me up.”
The
orc nodded, touched more than he could express. “I will.” Determined
now more than ever to move on to the battle he had come for, the orc
moved back to the fire and set one of the human bodies across a spit
over the fire after darkness covered the land. The flames licked at it
as they would any carcass. Torgath turned away from the sight, focusing
instead on propping the other dead corpses around the fire so as to look
like a group of warriors circled it. He placed their weapons nearby,
and then crept off to another location to lie down and wait.
He
waited there for scarcely more than an hour, until the sun began to peek
over the eastern horizon. The scent of roasting meat wafted to him, but
knowing what was truly cooking, the odor churned his stomach.
As
he peered upward, something flitted across the sky. A shadow passed over
Torgath and then something large and dark dropped from above, crashing
into two corpses and spewing acid on three others. Torgath was close
enough to feel the vibrations when the beast landed, and he smelled the
acrid odor as it poured out its hideous acid.
Torgath gripped his sword and was about to make his move when he heard the telltale click of a crossbow trigger.
No, you fool. Not yet!
A
bolt whistled through the air and slammed into the demon’s shoulder. It
turned, hissing and spitting acid from its mouth as it realized the
ruse.
Torgath knew the beast would take flight again if it could,
so he leapt up from his spot on the ground and charged the monster. The
thing was nearly twelve feet tall, with a bulbous belly no doubt bloated
more than normal after feasting earlier that day on human flesh. Two
greater wings sat above a pair of small wings, and ridges of bone
glistened in the firelight along the creature’s spine.
Torgath sprinted softly, hoping to strike while the demon was still distracted.
“Here, beast!” Gadrick shouted.
Another crossbow bolt whistled through the air and struck the demon, this time in the chest.
The
creature grunted and reached up to knock the bolt from its thick skin. A
bit of white blood oozed from the small wound, but the flesh closed up
as Torgath had expected.
The demon roared. It looked to the sky
with its spiked head and crouched low as if to jump while its wings
started flapping. Torgath was too slow to reach it before the creature
launched into the air, but he was able to slice the demon’s left foot as
it ascended. White blood dropped to the ground, smoking and bubbling as
it made contact with the grass. This time the wound did not close, and
the demon hissed as it recoiled to the side and circled higher with its
wings.
“Run!” Gadrick shouted.
Torgath knew there was
nowhere to run to. The demon was airborne now, and could certainly
outpace the orc. The demon flew over Torgath and opened its fang-filled
mouth to spit. The orc reached down and yanked a corpse from the ground
to use as a shield. The sound of acid slopping against the corpse was
the only indication that the attack had come, but it was followed
quickly by the sizzling sound of melting flesh.
The orc tossed the
body aside after the demon flew by and reached for a log from the fire.
He picked up a sizable piece and threw it hard. The fire hissed and
flittered as the log spun through the air, but it hit its mark, knocking
the demon squarely in the back. Embers broke off from the wood in a
shower of sparks.
The demon circled back around, but this time
Torgath readied his crossbow. He had just the trick for this demon. The
head of this bolt was a thin, brittle tip of graphite, but inside was a
mixture of base chemicals sure to react with the demon’s acid. He aimed
the crossbow and fired for the open maw. The bolt went in, and the demon
jerked his head to the side as it struggled to swallow the missile.
The
demon flew away and then circled back once more, making a wide arc as
if waiting to see what other missiles Torgath might fire at it. Instead,
the orc waited, knowing that his plan would only need about a minute to
take effect.
The demon roared and flew directly for Torgath once
it realized no one was firing anymore. It opened its mouth as if to
prepare an acid shower, but this time the beast gave off a dry,
foul-smelling belch. It veered off to the side and landed about twenty
yards away. The twelve foot tall behemoth bent over as if sick, and then
began heaving and vomiting. Torgath waited, his gifted eyes watching in
the dark as the demon’s chest began to swell. The demon grunted and
groaned, but didn’t take to the air again.
A low, dull popping sound came from the demon’s body as the heaving chest sank back inward. The demon howled in agony.
Torgath
knew it was his moment to strike. He rushed in while the demon was
consumed with pain. His dragon blade sliced the demon open horizontally
along the back, just above the waist. The spine rebuffed the blade’s
assault, but the flesh on either side gaped open. White blood spilled
out from the wound, along with greenish bubbles that had leaked into the
demon’s body from the acid sack inside its now exploded lungs.
The
beast dropped to its knees, unable to put up any sort of defense as
Torgath targeted the demon’s neck and shoulders. He dared not stab the
chest area from the front or back for fear that another acid sack might
have built up pressure from the acid bomb he had created.
When the
demon fell forward, Torgath chopped the head free and kicked it away. A
single tooth lay on the ground, so the orc picked it up and reached for
his necklace. His silver necklace glowed at one end, and bored its way
through the tooth, stringing the bone onto the silver chain.
Another
dull pop, like a bladder filled with too much water, sounded from the
demon’s corpse. Torgath looked and saw the right side of the chest
cavity collapse. It was now safe to pierce the demon’s heart. The dragon
sword bit through the demon’s flesh and a green fire rose from the
hole, consuming the body until all that was left was a wisp of green
smoke, which flew upward and into the hole in the tooth on the necklace.
The necklace then regained its normal shape and Torgath clasped it
around his neck.
Torgath looked around until he saw a small charm
that hadn’t been consumed by the fire. I was some sort of silver chain
with a pendant. The gem inside was green, and swirled as if mist churned
within the stone. Torgath set the pendant on a nearby piece of broken
wood and then chopped into it with his sword.
An explosion of
yellow and green tore through the darkness around him as the screams of
trapped souls erupted from the shattered gem. Wisps of smoke and vapor
took human forms and flew away, many of them soldiers that gave final
salutes to Torgath before flying off. Some of them were women and
children too overcome with joy to even take note of him.
The orc wondered whether the soldiers would have saluted had they known who he really was.
*****
I
am confident you will enjoy these deals. Be sure to reach out and let
me know which you like best. Stay healthy, stay safe, and keep an eye
out for one another. 
