A Cliff-top Duel
III
Lessons of Restraint
(Shard II)
(Shard II)
The well-dressed boy looked a lot like Aethel except he was shorter and far more slender. His hair was well-tended with two long braids trailing in front of his ears, while the back of his mane was long and wild with the hair of youth. He stood with his arms crossed over a blue vest and purple silk shirt. His brown eyes were focused into a squint of disapproval while his lips curled to reveal disgust.
Ghelta casually began to flex her fingers and snap her knuckles while sizing up this boy and the other children at his back. With a glance, she realized that she could easily subdue or severely harm this imprudent boy if she needed to. Behind him was a small and fidgety boy with wide eyes and a rough set of clothes that looked more like scrounged bits of fabric and leather than anything else. The final child was one that caused Ghelta concern as she saw this hulking mass of muscle that might be considered a girl, save for the complete lack of feminine qualities. The last child was easily two feet taller than Ghelta and almost three times the weight. She was bald save for a few braids of white hair that tangled in front of her face that was warped in a perpetual scowl.
“Don’t believe what my brother told you.” The opulently dressed boy kept his arms crossed and took a few steps toward Ghelta. He dragged his feet in the sand and had the posture like he owned the whole of the Jolash Plateau. “I’m the son of the chieftain as well, and I know that you’re not wanted here.”
Ghelta remembered seeing the boys face before and knew him as Aesothel; he was the second-born of the chieftain’s children; two years younger than Aethel and six years older than his sister who still lived with her family. Those few times in her younger years when Ylethus had taken her to see the Chieftain, she remembered seeing Aesothel skulking and grimacing from distant points in the high-lodge. He had always been the type to hide in the shadows and hatch dark thoughts. It seems in his older age, his balls had dropped enough that he was willing to confront those that displeased him.
“I know where you’re from. You don’t belong here and no one wants you. Not even your parents wanted you, which is why the Vhollen had to take you in.” Aesothel gave a cruel laugh and reached out an arm to slap the nervous child beside him in the chest. “Aethel has a weakness for exotic girls.” Aesothel took a few more steps forward and allowed his eyes to drop to the sand-strewn rock below his feet. “He also has a weakness for wounded animals. He always brings them home with him, even if they’re mangy.” He raised his eyes and focused them directly on Ghelta.
Ghelta lifted herself slowly to her feet while turning her head to the side and making several slow and steady steps towards Aesothel. She kept him in her periphery as she walked from toe-to-heel in a figure-eight pattern across the rocks. The boy wanted to assert his dominance over someone and he had selected her as weaker than him. She would allow this illusion with carefully selected movements and avoiding eye-contact as she waited for him to build up enough gall to strike.
The primordial dance of predators and prey began as Aesothel stopped moving while holding his right hand under his chin. The wide-eyed and feral child swung behind Aesothel and flanked him while watching Ghelta through a cocked-head and side-ways focus. The hulking girl swung wide and tried to flank Ghelta, mistaking her idle figure-eight movements as exposure.
“No one likes her, Aesothel.” The dry and multi-toned voice of the fidgety boy squeaked from behind. “She keeps to herself well enough. Do we really need to make an example of her?” The boy blinked each eye separately and began hammering on the side of his head with the palm of his hand. He turned away from Ghelta for a moment and then focused his attentions on Aesothel like a cowering dog.
“No one likes her, is right, Paulk.” Aesothel looked Ghelta from toe to head once more. He lifted his hand from his chin to pluck the air in front of him with his fingers; as if this hand was a snake that was snapping at Ghelta with venomous fangs. “Look at her, covered from head to toe in robes. She can’t even handle Dhaulm and Trallt’s blessed light.” Aesothel leaned in toward Ghelta as she passed by him. “They say that beneath all those robes she’s covered in scabs and sores because the gods have forsaken her.”
“The lenses are odd, too.” Paulk careened his neck and looked up at Ghelta. She laughed inside her own mind as she watched him, as he was one to criticize the oddness of another. “Maybe she’s got the eyes of a serpent.” Paulk laughed openly to himself as he began to scratch at his exposed thigh like a dog with fleas.
“Well, then-” Aesothel returned his hand to his chin in a moment of contemplation. “We might as well put the other children’s theories to the test.” He nodded and became resolute in his hatred. “Vhaydra, grab her. Let’s see what’s beneath those robes and those lenses.”
Ghelta turned her head to see the giant girl take a lunge at her. As Vhaydra charged in, Ghelta dropped to a crouch and rolled out of the way. The larger girl spat openly, then roared her anger into the hot and dusty breezes that were whipping up around the children. She toppled forward onto her hands and then lifted herself up to take a swipe at Ghelta with a meaty arm.
Aesothel remained a few yards away from the scuffle and regarded Ghelta and Vhaydra like a general surveying his deployed troops. The look on his face betrayed the realization that Ghelta was far more agile than the larger girl, so he took a step backward and grabbed Paulk by his collar. “Get in there and help her.” He tossed the smaller boy into the fray and took a sideways step to watch.
Paulk fell to the ground, catching himself on his hands and then looked up at Ghelta. His fidgety and cowardly demeanor quickly faded as he grit his teeth and began to foam at the mouth like a rabid animal. He scurried forward on all fours and tried vainly to grab Ghelta by the leg.
Ghelta nimbly pulled her leg from Paulk’s desperate grasp and proceeded to kick him in the face with the top of her foot. She rolled once more to avoid any further grasps by the mongrel boy and put some distance between her and him. She realized she was nearing by the mass of muscle that was Vhaydra, and prepared the muscles in her legs to spring her backward into a leap.
She wasn’t able to do as she planned, as the grotesquely meaty arms of Vhaydra clamped down around her arms and chest. Ghelta kicked from the ground, but the immense weight of Vhaydra and vice-like grip around her center caused her to topple backward and hit her shoulders against the ground. Before she could try to pull her arms free, she felt the scrabbling and sticky hands of Paulk grabbing onto her legs and pinning them down beneath his trifling weight.
“No more than a feral animal.” Aesothel loomed over Ghelta as she struggled against Vhaydra’s pinning arms and the slithering hands of Paulk as he sat on her feet and began pushing up her thigh. “Maybe you have fur under there, or a tail tucked away.”
The thought of a tail seemed to fascinate Paulk as his eyes grew wide and his hands began to grab at Ghelta’s thighs greedily. She managed to get one of her legs free of his squirming and lift it high enough to stomp on his groin. He recoiled and grimaced for a moment and then returned to pinning her with his hands and legs. He snarled like a dog and sunk his jagged teeth into the skin of her leg.
Vhaydra pushed her weight down on the right side of Ghelta’s chest while panting like a dog left out in the sun. The giant girl’s breath was sickly sweet and fetid as she pushed more of her weight down. One of Vhaydra’s large hands reached over Ghelta and began to claw at her face. Ghelta pulled her face away, turning her chin upward at the pawing hand. Vhaydra responded by slapping her meaty fingers against Ghelta’s cheek.
Ghelta struggled and squirmed as Vhaydra finally grasped her sausage-like fingers on her goggles and pulled them from her face. The brilliant roar of the twin sun’s light at noon blinded her for a moment. She shut her eyes closed and continued to work her left hand free from being pinned behind her.
“She winces at exposure to Dhaulm’s cleansing light.” Aesothel continued to loom and observe Ghelta as she struggled against the other two children. He took two steps to look at the lenses that Vhaydra had pulled from Ghelta’s face and tossed onto the ground. He gave a snooty sigh and kicked the goggles with his toe into the air and off the cliff-side. “Vhaydra, do the rest. Let us, and Dhaulm above, see what horrors she hides under there.”
Ghelta opened her eyes just wide enough to see the blurry image of Vhaydra’s rotund face smile down at her. She managed to free her hand from behind her and tore towards that face with a clawed hand. Her fingernails tore into the girl’s pudgy face and as the first rivulets of blood crept up from the stripes, Ghelta returned the smile with fangs barred.
The mass of muscle and fat atop her pulled away for a moment due to the pain and shock. Ghelta’s attention focused on the cool and wet feeling of Paulk drooling on the exposed flesh of her inner thigh. The wretched beast was practically rutting on her as he began to bellow out grunts. She lifted one of her legs and brought the back of her knee to pin his head against the ground. She hiked up her leg, folding it behind her rump to clamp down on his neck and begin choking him out.
She looked up from the gasping face of Paulk to see Vhaydra reaffirm her grip on her other arm and bring her large elbow down hard on Ghelta’s chest. The impact knocked the air from Ghelta’s lungs and with this moment of disorientation, the hulking girl grabbed onto Ghelta’s sleeve and began to pull her arm up and over her. Vhaydra used her free hand to hammer her fist against Ghelta’s stomach, keeping the wind from her lungs, and pulled her torso backward, using the robes as leverage.
Under the strain on her body, Ghelta relented and was rolled on her side as Vhaydra pulled the robes off of her. The movement allowed Paulk to get free of Ghelta’s leg and he scrabbled away on all fours. He got away and then returned to kick Ghelta hard in the side and spit on her.
“How disappointing, she’s human after all.” Aesothel leaned in to survey his prey. He grabbed one of Ghelta’s bare arms and slid his fingers down her flesh. “Incredibly pale, almost like the porcelain sold my merchants from the Alwhedein Empire.” He let go of Ghelta’s arm and sunk his fingers into her hair, grabbing up her head painfully. “Crimson hair; so the rumors are true. She’s a Witchling.”
Ghelta snapped her head back to free herself from Aesothel’s grip. He let go of her hair and stepped far enough back that he was beyond any attempts at an attack against him. Ghelta remained on the ground, half-curled, and feeling exposed in front of these monsters. The heat of the twin suns at their zenith beat down upon her, causing her skin to feel like it was on fire. The only clothing she had to shield her body was that of her old and threadbare tunic and a pair of loose-fitting leather shorts held in place by her old scabbard belt.
Ghelta casually began to flex her fingers and snap her knuckles while sizing up this boy and the other children at his back. With a glance, she realized that she could easily subdue or severely harm this imprudent boy if she needed to. Behind him was a small and fidgety boy with wide eyes and a rough set of clothes that looked more like scrounged bits of fabric and leather than anything else. The final child was one that caused Ghelta concern as she saw this hulking mass of muscle that might be considered a girl, save for the complete lack of feminine qualities. The last child was easily two feet taller than Ghelta and almost three times the weight. She was bald save for a few braids of white hair that tangled in front of her face that was warped in a perpetual scowl.
“Don’t believe what my brother told you.” The opulently dressed boy kept his arms crossed and took a few steps toward Ghelta. He dragged his feet in the sand and had the posture like he owned the whole of the Jolash Plateau. “I’m the son of the chieftain as well, and I know that you’re not wanted here.”
Ghelta remembered seeing the boys face before and knew him as Aesothel; he was the second-born of the chieftain’s children; two years younger than Aethel and six years older than his sister who still lived with her family. Those few times in her younger years when Ylethus had taken her to see the Chieftain, she remembered seeing Aesothel skulking and grimacing from distant points in the high-lodge. He had always been the type to hide in the shadows and hatch dark thoughts. It seems in his older age, his balls had dropped enough that he was willing to confront those that displeased him.
“I know where you’re from. You don’t belong here and no one wants you. Not even your parents wanted you, which is why the Vhollen had to take you in.” Aesothel gave a cruel laugh and reached out an arm to slap the nervous child beside him in the chest. “Aethel has a weakness for exotic girls.” Aesothel took a few more steps forward and allowed his eyes to drop to the sand-strewn rock below his feet. “He also has a weakness for wounded animals. He always brings them home with him, even if they’re mangy.” He raised his eyes and focused them directly on Ghelta.
Ghelta lifted herself slowly to her feet while turning her head to the side and making several slow and steady steps towards Aesothel. She kept him in her periphery as she walked from toe-to-heel in a figure-eight pattern across the rocks. The boy wanted to assert his dominance over someone and he had selected her as weaker than him. She would allow this illusion with carefully selected movements and avoiding eye-contact as she waited for him to build up enough gall to strike.
The primordial dance of predators and prey began as Aesothel stopped moving while holding his right hand under his chin. The wide-eyed and feral child swung behind Aesothel and flanked him while watching Ghelta through a cocked-head and side-ways focus. The hulking girl swung wide and tried to flank Ghelta, mistaking her idle figure-eight movements as exposure.
“No one likes her, Aesothel.” The dry and multi-toned voice of the fidgety boy squeaked from behind. “She keeps to herself well enough. Do we really need to make an example of her?” The boy blinked each eye separately and began hammering on the side of his head with the palm of his hand. He turned away from Ghelta for a moment and then focused his attentions on Aesothel like a cowering dog.
“No one likes her, is right, Paulk.” Aesothel looked Ghelta from toe to head once more. He lifted his hand from his chin to pluck the air in front of him with his fingers; as if this hand was a snake that was snapping at Ghelta with venomous fangs. “Look at her, covered from head to toe in robes. She can’t even handle Dhaulm and Trallt’s blessed light.” Aesothel leaned in toward Ghelta as she passed by him. “They say that beneath all those robes she’s covered in scabs and sores because the gods have forsaken her.”
“The lenses are odd, too.” Paulk careened his neck and looked up at Ghelta. She laughed inside her own mind as she watched him, as he was one to criticize the oddness of another. “Maybe she’s got the eyes of a serpent.” Paulk laughed openly to himself as he began to scratch at his exposed thigh like a dog with fleas.
“Well, then-” Aesothel returned his hand to his chin in a moment of contemplation. “We might as well put the other children’s theories to the test.” He nodded and became resolute in his hatred. “Vhaydra, grab her. Let’s see what’s beneath those robes and those lenses.”
Ghelta turned her head to see the giant girl take a lunge at her. As Vhaydra charged in, Ghelta dropped to a crouch and rolled out of the way. The larger girl spat openly, then roared her anger into the hot and dusty breezes that were whipping up around the children. She toppled forward onto her hands and then lifted herself up to take a swipe at Ghelta with a meaty arm.
Aesothel remained a few yards away from the scuffle and regarded Ghelta and Vhaydra like a general surveying his deployed troops. The look on his face betrayed the realization that Ghelta was far more agile than the larger girl, so he took a step backward and grabbed Paulk by his collar. “Get in there and help her.” He tossed the smaller boy into the fray and took a sideways step to watch.
Paulk fell to the ground, catching himself on his hands and then looked up at Ghelta. His fidgety and cowardly demeanor quickly faded as he grit his teeth and began to foam at the mouth like a rabid animal. He scurried forward on all fours and tried vainly to grab Ghelta by the leg.
Ghelta nimbly pulled her leg from Paulk’s desperate grasp and proceeded to kick him in the face with the top of her foot. She rolled once more to avoid any further grasps by the mongrel boy and put some distance between her and him. She realized she was nearing by the mass of muscle that was Vhaydra, and prepared the muscles in her legs to spring her backward into a leap.
She wasn’t able to do as she planned, as the grotesquely meaty arms of Vhaydra clamped down around her arms and chest. Ghelta kicked from the ground, but the immense weight of Vhaydra and vice-like grip around her center caused her to topple backward and hit her shoulders against the ground. Before she could try to pull her arms free, she felt the scrabbling and sticky hands of Paulk grabbing onto her legs and pinning them down beneath his trifling weight.
“No more than a feral animal.” Aesothel loomed over Ghelta as she struggled against Vhaydra’s pinning arms and the slithering hands of Paulk as he sat on her feet and began pushing up her thigh. “Maybe you have fur under there, or a tail tucked away.”
The thought of a tail seemed to fascinate Paulk as his eyes grew wide and his hands began to grab at Ghelta’s thighs greedily. She managed to get one of her legs free of his squirming and lift it high enough to stomp on his groin. He recoiled and grimaced for a moment and then returned to pinning her with his hands and legs. He snarled like a dog and sunk his jagged teeth into the skin of her leg.
Vhaydra pushed her weight down on the right side of Ghelta’s chest while panting like a dog left out in the sun. The giant girl’s breath was sickly sweet and fetid as she pushed more of her weight down. One of Vhaydra’s large hands reached over Ghelta and began to claw at her face. Ghelta pulled her face away, turning her chin upward at the pawing hand. Vhaydra responded by slapping her meaty fingers against Ghelta’s cheek.
Ghelta struggled and squirmed as Vhaydra finally grasped her sausage-like fingers on her goggles and pulled them from her face. The brilliant roar of the twin sun’s light at noon blinded her for a moment. She shut her eyes closed and continued to work her left hand free from being pinned behind her.
“She winces at exposure to Dhaulm’s cleansing light.” Aesothel continued to loom and observe Ghelta as she struggled against the other two children. He took two steps to look at the lenses that Vhaydra had pulled from Ghelta’s face and tossed onto the ground. He gave a snooty sigh and kicked the goggles with his toe into the air and off the cliff-side. “Vhaydra, do the rest. Let us, and Dhaulm above, see what horrors she hides under there.”
Ghelta opened her eyes just wide enough to see the blurry image of Vhaydra’s rotund face smile down at her. She managed to free her hand from behind her and tore towards that face with a clawed hand. Her fingernails tore into the girl’s pudgy face and as the first rivulets of blood crept up from the stripes, Ghelta returned the smile with fangs barred.
The mass of muscle and fat atop her pulled away for a moment due to the pain and shock. Ghelta’s attention focused on the cool and wet feeling of Paulk drooling on the exposed flesh of her inner thigh. The wretched beast was practically rutting on her as he began to bellow out grunts. She lifted one of her legs and brought the back of her knee to pin his head against the ground. She hiked up her leg, folding it behind her rump to clamp down on his neck and begin choking him out.
She looked up from the gasping face of Paulk to see Vhaydra reaffirm her grip on her other arm and bring her large elbow down hard on Ghelta’s chest. The impact knocked the air from Ghelta’s lungs and with this moment of disorientation, the hulking girl grabbed onto Ghelta’s sleeve and began to pull her arm up and over her. Vhaydra used her free hand to hammer her fist against Ghelta’s stomach, keeping the wind from her lungs, and pulled her torso backward, using the robes as leverage.
Under the strain on her body, Ghelta relented and was rolled on her side as Vhaydra pulled the robes off of her. The movement allowed Paulk to get free of Ghelta’s leg and he scrabbled away on all fours. He got away and then returned to kick Ghelta hard in the side and spit on her.
“How disappointing, she’s human after all.” Aesothel leaned in to survey his prey. He grabbed one of Ghelta’s bare arms and slid his fingers down her flesh. “Incredibly pale, almost like the porcelain sold my merchants from the Alwhedein Empire.” He let go of Ghelta’s arm and sunk his fingers into her hair, grabbing up her head painfully. “Crimson hair; so the rumors are true. She’s a Witchling.”
Ghelta snapped her head back to free herself from Aesothel’s grip. He let go of her hair and stepped far enough back that he was beyond any attempts at an attack against him. Ghelta remained on the ground, half-curled, and feeling exposed in front of these monsters. The heat of the twin suns at their zenith beat down upon her, causing her skin to feel like it was on fire. The only clothing she had to shield her body was that of her old and threadbare tunic and a pair of loose-fitting leather shorts held in place by her old scabbard belt.
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