The Wanderer

The bison was larger than usual, its muscular body, easily heavier than 10 men, defended by a thick layer of hardened skin impervious to Hollow’s rusted knife. The only way that would get through would be at the bison’s softer neck, but that would involve putting himself in the path of its foot long horns. One wrong move would mean at best he’d lose the arm. However, Hollow noticed the bison seemed strangely distressed for a creature of its size. why are you still here? It had been almost an hour since the bison’s herd had continued into the vast empty plains, where the only company was charred grass making a pitiful effort beat the sun’s might and one’s mind as it was torn away through waves of heatstroke and frozen nights. Hollow had been tracking this herd for several days now through a dissipating forest, as he had been expecting them to stop at a nearby stream before making the long trek, as was their normal custom. There he would pounce as they caught respite. But something must have spooked the bison, causing several days of labour to be wasted, or so he had thought. Hollow saw two options laid out before him, leave the bison and hope to find a local village nearby to barter for food. Or the riskier option, attempt to kill the bison. Hollow had managed to always pick the wrong option; it was what sent him into the wilderness in the first place. And yet he still carried on. This time, it’ll work out. One clean cut while it’s distracted. But even as he though it something in the back of his head told him not to. But as always, he carried on.

As Hollow exited the final layer of trees, he near hugged the ground as to not expose himself to the bison, which had now began wailing. What has gotten you so upset? Hollow timed his movements to the bison’s vision, only shuffling along when it turned its battering ram of a head away from his direction. Yet again, as got closer he wondered if this was wise, not only was the bison a danger if provoked, but whatever had sent fear into it was not something Hollow cared to deal with in his current state. However, he knew it was too late for second thoughts. After several minutes of slowly edging across the crusted ground, the smell of burning grass mixed with the bison’s odour creating a sickening cocktail in Hollow’s nose, he saw what had troubled the bison. One of its hind legs had been slashed, causing an oozing puddle of blood to form in its shadow. From the look of it the wound was cause by blade not bison. Hunters then, probably a few minutes out, waiting for the bison to tire. Letting it wear itself out before finishing the kill. Or at least Hollow hoped, as the alternative was much worse.

Just as Hollow had thought, it was only a few minutes later when the hunters arrived, he spotted two exiting the tree line. Both wore simple tunics under thin tanned leather cuirass, he spotted no emblems them. Finally some luck. The first of the two was a small man with face which looked like it had been churned through a furnace, all singed and misshapen, a drawn bow weighed in his hands. His companion was his opposite, almost a giant, the man must have been almost 7 feet tall, with body which rivalled the bison and a face not to dissimilar. Hollow was not naive enough to think they were alone; they would have someone behind keeping any horses. Time to announce myself, better than then a reflexive arrow to the chest if I’m spotted. And as Hollow rose from the ground the beats took his place, succumbing to its wound it fell to the ground with a thud and a wail.

‘Morning boys. Didn’t expect to find anyone else hunting so far out’ Hollow attempted a jovial voice, but I came out as more of a broken grunt.

Burnface tried to hide the surprise in his face, and it was done admirably, but Hollow had been around the best liars. The slightly raised eyebrows, sudden slowness in his otherwise calmed stride. But all of that was quickly removed as Burnface studied the stranger. ‘Aye’ Burnface replied with as much nonchalance as Hallow had heard in a while. ‘Me and my companion,’ He waved to the large brute waiting patiently behind him ‘Have been sent on the important mission of feeding someone wealthier’ Burnface spoke in a silvery voice which Hollow trusted not at all.

‘And this benefactor is?’

’Why you have the honour of speaking to men of the illustrious duke of Vercil’s 3rd scouting division’ He pronounced in an overly sentimental tone, finishing with a mocking bow. Burnface then studied Hollow in a manner Hollow had seen before, that of a hunter figuring out what has fallen into its trap. ‘And pray tell, where might you be from?’

Another choice, and not a good one either. The truth was not an answer Hollow could give, so he tried to come up with something believable, something that would make him seem in place. Hunter for a village, ironic. However Hollow could not recall where the nearest village was. North leads into the plains, I came from the west. So south or east. There’s a stream east, villages always need water. ‘I’ve been following this herd for a few days now, planning to take it back to my village a few miles east of here. We’ve been running a tad low on meat’

‘Did you now.’ Burnface replied, a sly grin rising on his cracked lips. ‘Well tell you what, I’m in a generous mood today, so we’ll allow you to take your fill back with you.’ He finished; grin still firmly attached.

‘T-thank you – kind sir’ Hollow muttered, wandering if his luck had turned, but deep down he know it never would.

Hollow began to walk towards the fallen bison, which was no longer making a sound, while keeping one eye watching Burnface’s movement. Just as he was drawing his knife Burnface interrupted ‘As long as you tell chieftain Roth, we hope to continue our talks from last week’

‘Your message will be sent, you have my word’ Hollow even added with a smile, or what he thought resembled was one. To little effect it seems as Burnface made a piercing whistle and aimed his still drawn bow.

‘There is no village east, and there is no chieftain Roth my poor fellow’ He spoke with faked sympathy. ‘But don’t worry, a few days with us and you’ll be recalling to me memories you thought long gone. And if you play nice, you can walk out limbs fully attached.’ Then grin returned.

Hollow launched himself over the dead bison as an arrow pierced its flesh ‘GO GET HIM THEN!’ Burnface shrieked, no longer trying to hide any frustration in his voice

Hollow peered over the bison and saw the brute making a half sprint towards him, axe in hand. The bison was large enough to fully shield Hollow, but that wouldn’t matter once the brute got to it. Hollow went to the edge of the bison and as the brute got past the bison he slashed low with his knife; slicing into the brute’s calf, causing him to cry out and stumble, but not fall as Hollow intended. The brute used him remaining momentum to lift his axe, ready to swing. Alright you bastard. Hollow launched himself into the brute before he could swing, causing the brute’s injured leg to give and both men to fall to the ground.

Hollow’s knife flew from his grip in the fall, so he made a grab for the brute’s axe. But the brute grip was too strong for Hollow, so Hollow jammed his fingers into the wound on his calf, causing a roar of pain from the brute who was staring to recover from his fall. Enough of a shock for his grip to loosen, give Hollow the chance to grab and swing, creating a crater of broken skull and flesh when the brutes face once resided. Only a few seconds later an arrow narrowly missed Hollow’s face but found a home in his shoulder. It seems Burnface had not wanted to shoot while his companion was in the firing line, but now there was nothing in his was. Hollow snaped the arrow shaft and made a roll back to the cover of the fallen bison and studies his options. Too far to reach him, and it’s only a matter of time till he circles around my unfortunate cover. ‘Well shit’ Hollow rasped in frustration; he only saw one option. To run for the tree line.

Hollow ran like he was a decade younger, the adrenaline formed over the last few minutes fuelled him as he charged towards the tree line. 100 meters, a missed arrow flew past him followed by and angry curse. 50 meters, another arrow missed and he made it to the tree line. Legs burning Hollow knew he couldn’t stop now. Bursting through brambles he ignored the pain, ignored his now dead arm where an arrow still gouged his flesh, ignored his burning legs begging for relief. SNAP, Hollow’s foot was caught in a vine, half crushing it. But that which remained clung to his foot sending him flying to the ground.

‘Fucking SHIT!’ Hollow cursed as pain wrapped around his body. Attempting to stand on his left leg only sent him back to the ground with another shot of pain. Gotta get up, c’mon you coward! But Hollow’s next attempt of movement ended faster than the last. Well, that’s that then, finally brought down by a fucking twig. Thought I’d at least go down fighting. Hollow didn’t try to resist as Burnface caught up to his position.

‘You and I are going to have some fun’ Burnface spat at Hollow and as the pummel of a knife struck Hollow’s temple, his world went dark.