Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 11 Read online

  “Beni?” Crush whispered, and then she appeared from out of the jungle to face him, her eyes piercing his own. She placed a finger to her lips, and her eyebrows furled.

  “You must not speak. We are surrounded by giants,” her voice perforated his mind. Rigid with fear of battle, Crush peered around in all directions, and he saw the camouflaged warriors now spaced out along the perimeter of the woods. When he turned to face Beni again, she was gone. “A scout has passed by and is tracking my movements. Stay where you are,” she projected into his thoughts, and Crush was startled that she could hide so effectively even from him. He sniffed the air, and her scent permeated the morning breeze. Contented with knowing that she was still nearby, that somehow she must be playing mind games with him and with the giant warriors as well, the tenseness that had come over him seemed to ease. The air around him collapsed upon him as he felt her giant fingers wrap around his midsection, plucking him from the tree and placing him on her invisible shoulder.

  “Simon is gone?” Beni asked as she soundlessly marched along the stream, moving deeper into the forest away from the soldiers and toward the castle.

  “He and the other monkeys have an aversion to being eaten,” Crush whispered in the direction where he thought her ear must be located. Though he could sense her touch, he still could not see her body, and the feeling of levitating through the forest seemed odd to him.

  “A wise soul,” she answered as they disappeared quietly into the brush.

  **********

  At the break of dawn, the two malcoons stood to their feet on the rocky shoreline of the river, and they yawned with their jaws wide open as if they had not slept for many days. Shaking the excess water from their damp coats of fur, the horned animals stepped over to the river’s edge and carefully whiffed the calm surface of the water as it passed by. With a lick of their tongues, the malcoons each drank in a taste of the liquid, and it wetted their thirst.

  From the nearby brush on the hill, Captain Colere of the giants squinted his eyes as he watched the antlers of the beasts rise and fall with every drink of cool water that touched their lips. When the malcoons had quenched their thirst, they ambled off along the riverside toward the lighthouse in the distance. The captain watched with hardened eyes as the beasts faded into the distance, and with a single hand signal, he motioned a lone scout to move ahead. The scout’s eyes moved quickly in all directions, and he scanned the entire area for any movement before he braved the first step out onto the rocks. Though experienced in hunting the malcoons, the young scout harbored a respectful fear of the great beasts, a trait that would see him survive through many experiences in his lifetime. Moving as cautiously as a lion on the prowl, the scout examined the ground in front of him for clues, and when he had reached the river, he lowered his fingertips to the hoof prints in the mud. Carefully he counted the impressions in the soil, and he noted the evidence that lay before him. Leaving the area undisturbed, he followed another set of prints up the hill and to the edge of the forest. Startled by the proof that lay ahead of him, his eyes rose from the ground to the bushes and then from the bushes to the trees. With his back bent over in a crouching position, the scout warily made his way back to the captain’s location, and he laid down in the brush next to him.

  “The beasts swam over the river last night. The tracks show that there were only hoof prints for two,” the scout said as he began to describe what he had found.

  “Since when do malcoons swim the river?” the captain asked.

  “They might swim to this side of the river to escape danger on the other side,” the scout answered. “But in this case, I believe that there was a rider on one of them.” The captain looked over at his scout as if he doubted the implications.

  “Who could tame one of those beasts, scout?” he remarked sarcastically.

  “The evidence suggests it, captain. I examined all of the hoof prints out there, and one of the older sets of foot prints that led from the water’s edge to their resting spot was much deeper than the other,” the scout explained. “Upon leaving this morning, the tracks are much shallower,” he added as if a weight had been lifted.

  “Any other evidence?” the captain asked with incredulity. The scout raised his finger in an ‘Ah-ha’ moment.

  “Indeed. There are giant foot prints that appear suddenly from the location of the heaviest malcoon, and the foot prints lead up the hill and into the forest,” the scout clarified as he described the overwhelming evidence to his leader. The captain nodded his head in acceptance of the evidence, and he considered a course of action as he paused to reflect on their choices.

  “With Queen Dowager on edge, we cannot take any chances on letting anyone slip by,” the captain noted. “Follow the giant’s footsteps into the forest and find out who he is,” he ordered, and the scout agreed.

  “There is one other detail, sir,” the scout added. “By the size and depth of the footprints, I would have to assume that the giant is lightweight, indicating maybe a female or a child.” The scout then followed his orders, and he headed out to follow the tracks.

  With a tap on the captain’s shoulder, the nearest soldier gathered his attention and pointed out across the river. In the distance a raft appeared as a shadow on the top surface of the river. The captain’s countenance changed as he considered the possibilities, and he ordered his men to stay where they were undercover and to keep their eyes trained on the approaching vessel. If it was who he thought it was, there may be a long day ahead.

  **********

  Beni knelt down on one knee behind a tree, and she held her breath as she listened to the sounds of the footsteps that were following her through the forest. She had noticed the crackle of leaves and snapping of twigs very early on in their trek into the forest, and she had done her best to project a camouflage around herself for much of the journey. The mental strength that was required to hide herself from prying eyes was strenuous at a minimum, and she found herself exhausted from the taxation of her telepathic abilities. There was a long way to go between where they were and their next destination, and there was no hope for it but to continue on their path to the giant’s castle. She had chosen to go back with Crush and to face her sister, Queen Dowager, and even if she changed her mind and fled, the task of escaping the military search party would be grueling, if not impossible.

  “What can I do?” Beni thought to herself as exhaustion began to take over her faculties. “Think!” She bit down on her lower lip as the footsteps crept ever closer, and she strained her mind to hold the telepathic spell as she surveyed her choices. She could climb a tree and hide within the canopy, hoping that no one would find her while she rested. Or she could crouch down and hide under the bushes and hope that the scout lost the trail. The exhaustion had impaired the clarity of her thoughts, but her mind was made up.

  The scout followed Beni’s tracks up to the base of the tree, and he stopped for an instant to survey the area. There was a light wind, and leaves were blowing back forth in the breeze. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Craning his head back, he inspected the enormous tree for his quarry, and he was disappointed to see that it was empty.

  “Looking for me, soldier,” a voice came over the wind. A man dressed in military garb stepped out from behind the tree and confronted the scout beneath the shade of the forest. He was wearing the insignia of a captain in Queen Dowager’s guard, and he looked none too happy. “I would think that you had better things to do than to track your superiors,” the captain noted with a hint of command in his voice. All color flowed out of the scout’s face as he realized his mistake, and he knelt down at the captain’s feet.

  “Sir, please accept my apologies. I was only following orders from my own captain,” the scout explained vehemently. He looked up to face the captain with sad eyes at his error, and he now recalled the captain’s name. “Captain Mouchard.”

  “Aye. With all that is going on within the realm, I would t
hink that your commander would have more important things to do than spy on Queen Dowager’s guard,” Mouchard expounded with conviction. “Since your commander finds that Queen Dowager’s business is his own, I order you to return to your commander with this directive: swim to the other side of the river,” Mouchard said with a twinkle in his eye. The scout stood to his feet without question, saluted Mouchard, and sprinted back through the woods from whence he came. Once the soldier was out of sight, Beni exhaled the excited breath that she had been holding and thanked the heavens that her ploy had succeeded.

  “Nice one, princess,” Crush declared from his place on her shoulder. “How did you do that?”

  “It just came to me,” she said as she held out her hand for Crush to walk out onto. Crush stepped out onto her outstretched palm, and Beni lifted him up into the lower branches of the tree where he could hide safely while she rested. “I am exhausted, little one. Wake me if anyone or anything suspicious comes our way,” she instructed as she laid down on the ground with her head leaned against her arms. Using his best judgment, Crush scaled the limbs to the top of the tree, and he enjoyed a restful morning as he swayed in the breeze. He was surprised by Beni’s repeated talent for getting out of tight situations, and since he had lost Boulder back in the caverns of Scalus Mountain, he was happy that he had stumbled across some much needed help.

  **********

  Sprinting through the woods, the scout ran as fast as he could to get back to his group, and he stopped to catch his breath when he reached the edge of the forest. He searched in the underbrush, but his commander and fellow soldiers were nowhere to be found. As he stood there, bent over with exhaustion, he heard voices coming from the rocky shoreline of the river. Slowly pacing to the edge of the brush, he noticed that his captain was involved in a heated discussion with another soldier, but he could not tell exactly who it was since the captain’s tall frame was blocking his field of view. With his arms flailing, Colere’s voice developed a grave quality as he sought to explain his company’s position along the beach. The scout felt a drop in his stomach as he drew near to his squad. There, standing within arm’s length of his commander, was Mouchard of Queen Dowager’s guard.

  “I sprinted back,” the scout thought to himself as he stood there in shock. “How could he have outrun me all the way back here without me noticing? And why would he even bother?” He could not conceive the answers to his questions, and so he paid careful attention to the conversation and hoped to pick up tidbits of information. He would have to fill in the blanks as necessary.

  “We are out here because it is our duty to investigate anything unusual that occurs along the shoreline, sir,” Captain Colere explained to the weathered Mouchard.

  “And you think it is your duty to stand in the way of my mission!” Mouchard answered angrily.

  “That is not what I said, sir. It is our duty to protect the shoreline from all intruders,” Colere continued. “Even if you are who you say you are, I am still required to ask for identification, even if it is Queen Dowager’s guard.” The scout stepped up beside his captain and waited patiently as the confrontation grew in severity.

  “LET ME PASS!” Mouchard spat out through gritted teeth.

  “I shall upon presentation of your documents,” Captain Colere insisted steadfastly. Mouchard returned only a glare, and after several moments of impasse, the scout cleared his throat in an effort to gain Colere’s attention. The captain fell back several steps and bent his ear to listen to the scout’s report. As the whispering continued, the captain’s eyebrows furled, and he looked back doubtfully at the scout. Mouchard looked on impatiently as if he disliked his needs being ignored, and without waiting for permission, he marched off toward the line of brush at the edge of the forest. Colere reached out and grabbed Mouchard’s wrist, bringing the guard around with one tug, and the battle was on. Mouchard foot swept the captain and knocked him to the ground in one swift motion. Satisfied with the result, he then turned and continued to pace toward the forest. Colere leapt to his feet and drew his sword from the scabbard on his belt. Mouchard heard the scraping of metal as the sword was withdrawn from the holder, and he wheeled around just in time to evade the first strike of the weapon. The blade narrowly missed his midsection, and Mouchard ducked and closed the distance between them before Colere’s next strike cut across the tip of Mouchard’s hair. With a spring from the ground, Mouchard delivered an uppercut to the captain’s chin with one hand and restrained the sword hand with the other. The two veteran soldiers stared each other down momentarily, and Colere dropped his sword unexpectedly to the ground. Mouchard glanced down at the weapon as it bounced on the rocks, and Colere took the opportunity to spit blood in Mouchard’s face as he looked away. Mouchard growled in anger, and hand-to-hand, they brawled. Colere delivered a head butt to Mouchard’s nose, and blood burst out into the air as the captain’s troops closed in on the combatants. With clenched fists, the two officers swung knuckles and walloped each other between armored plates for the next five minutes until both giants were bruised and battered. Seething at each other, they squared off inside the circle of soldiers, and Captain Colere was the first to speak.

  “You know that I could order the other giants to pierce you with their swords. I have the authority,” Colere said as he wiped the blood from his chin.

  “You could, captain. And you would do Queen Dowager and the realm a disservice,” Mouchard countered.

  “That is your view,” Colere argued. “By my duty, no one is to pass across the river without papers. If you are one of Queen Dowager’s guard, then you would know this, and you would show your credentials. Besides, Mouchard was seen deep within the Ecklebee Forest this morning, and he has already given orders to one of my men,” he said as he pointed to the scout. Nodding his assent, the scout folded his arms and waited for Mouchard’s explanation.

  “You saw me in the forest, hmm?” Mouchard asked the scout, and the scout moved his head with an agreeing nod again. “And did I have my sword?”

  “Yes, Mouchard had a sword of the royal guard,” the scout answered to his captain. “He ordered us to swim the river.”

  “Get to it then. I shall not stop you from doing your duty,” Mouchard snickered as he looked back to the captain. “There is more under the surface than what you can see, captain. Your scout was given an order by a member of the Queen’s guard, and I suggest that you do as you are told. As for me, I am under Queen Dowager’s strict orders to complete an assigned task, and it means my life one way or the other. If I have to go through you and all of your men to complete that task, then I will,” Mouchard said with resolve. “There are others watching, as your scout now knows, and if I am not allowed to return into our lands, then it will be your head. After all, commander, what harm can there be in allowing one unarmed giant such as myself to pass?” Mouchard reasoned. The captain wiped another drop of blood from his chin and considered his choices.

  “Very well,” Colere agreed and then grabbed Mouchard by the shirt. “But if you try this stunt again, you will regret it, Queen Dowager’s guard or not.”

  “I will have my papers next time, commander,” Mouchard said as he pulled his shirt loose from Colere’s grip. He then inhaled a fresh breath of air and shook his head in delight. “What a nice day for a swim, captain. I hope you have your papers when you cross back over,” Mouchard said with a grin as he parted the soldiers and marched into the forest.

  Captain Colere sneered as he led his troops to the shore of the river.

  **********

  When Beni awoke from her short rest, she found herself laid out flat on her back beneath the shade of a tree. She opened her eyes to see Crush overhead, perched on a limb in the tree and keeping careful watch of the forest. Before she could speak, he saw that she was awake, and he signaled for her to look out into the forest. Then the snapping of a twig caught her attention, and she rose to her feet using the trunk of the tree for
cover. She kept dreadfully still as she sensed that someone was stalking her. With a steady hand, Beni reached up and gathered Crush from the limb of the tree, and she gently placed him onto her shoulder. Doubt and anxiety clouded her thoughts, and she swore at herself for sleeping too long, though she knew that the overpowering fatigue from the use of telepathy was no fault of her own. Her foot prints had led a tracker to her once before, and the foot prints ended where she now stood. Even if she disguised herself with her powers, she would still leave behind a trail to follow. There would be no escape.

  As she nervously waited for the soldier to appear, she thought through many scenarios of escape, and there were only three options that could help her now. She could face the soldier and fight, possibly leading to her own death. This seemed to be the worst possible decision in her mind. She could also pretend once again to be Mouchard and send the soldier back with the others into the river.

  “Not a bad option,” she thought as she leaned against the tree and looked skyward into the canopy. She could also climb high into the tree, leap from tree to tree for a distance, and begin a fresh set of foot prints separated well away from her current location. That would buy her some time since the tracker would find a dead end where she now stood. Resolved that she had the right decision in mind, Beni jumped up to grab the lowest limb, and she pulled herself up into the tree. She began to climb upward, all the while sending out telepathic messages in a circle around her to anyone who might be watching. When she reached the top, the crown of the tree bent outward toward the upper limbs of another tree, and as her confidence rose, Beni let go of the treetop and leapt across the open air and onto the neighboring branches. She grabbed the upper limbs, and the treetop sagged with her weight. For a moment, she felt as if the limbs may break under duress. To her delight though, the bough did not break, but it also did not recover from the bend. Crush held onto her long hair as she flipped her legs around the bent limb to relieve the stress from her arms, and she then crawled her way up the curve of the bend slowly until she found a spot where she could stand.