Chapter IV:
Subohemian Chase
The riders charged into the black hills, Verity von Herrenhausen’s body strapped fast to Blueboy's saddle.
The day had not yet come, yet red and rising as the dawn was a host of fifty Subohemians, bearing torches, clad in the scarlet uniforms of Adatmen’s servants, chasing the riders. The Subohemian physical prowess was such that the horses thought all those scarlet men to be horses themselves, graceful in their strides and leaps abound the mountain switchbacks. They skipped upon the gravel and riprap like a host of merry schoolchildren at play in the schoolyard, nearing the apes within a stone’s throw.
Arnulf Count von Bloodfirth, a huge blonde ettin in black and red rode out on an obelisk, hovering over the Subohemians. His amplified voice called out: “I’ve received a message from the Unghost…You Subohemian clowns better turn back to Jagtown now. He has other plans for these apes.”
“Hellfire rain upon you, Bloodfirth! We are a jolly crew here! We play and listen to none other than our own inner Unghost,” shouted an amber skinned ettin. "You understand the penalty that will follow your disobedience?" said the Count's booming voice.
"We obey none other but our own desire, and we desire to eat some apes!" cried the amber skin.
"Very well, I will relay your reply to the Governor," said Arnulf, flying off.
In their chit chat with the Count, the fifty lost their gain on the riders. Canute and Blueboy were spurred into a tremendous speed, their eyes aflame, their hooves sparking like flint as they flew downhill. They mustered a speed beyond that of a horse of the finest racing pedigree, their souls one with their masters. They all had fled beyond the border of the Rural County Zone, down far past the old wall beset with watchtowers of the Groomslayer’s troops. But any County sentry ape would have held back his firearm for fear of a Subohemian ettin’s reprisal. The horde regained their lost ground, nearing twenty feet from the horses. They whooped and cursed aloud. “I wanna taste o’ horse meat! I want the first bite of the blue one!” growled an ettin with a particularly large mouth. “I wanna bite of the little boy on the black one!” said one with a female torso. “Hellfire, let’s eat all five of ‘ems!” said Bigmouth. “Hellfire indeed, they’re all mine, including the girl with the nice hair!” said a bald one.
“Hungry…Hungry..” A corpulent gray-skinned ettin lumbered at the front of the pack. On his back rode a petite woman with flaming orange hair. “You hungry, Sir Pork?” she asked.
“Hungry…”
“I thought you preferred lamb chops...you don’t wanna eat that, do ya? Or what about these Subozos?” said the woman pointing to the sprinters.
A few, hearing her loud voice among the stampede, fell to the back of the pack. Bigmouth muttered quietly again about swallowing the riders all whole.
“Him, Sir Pork. How about him...He looks like a tasty snack, right?” Sir Pork reached his long fat arm into the pack scooping up Bigmouth.
“Sir Pork!!," said the orange haired lady, in a scolding tone. "I was joking about eating these Subozos...”
“Joke-ing?”
“Yeah...well, half joking.”
A muscular ettin, nude, his face gray, the rest of his torso translucent exposing a black skeleton, ran up to the orange haired lady.
“About twenty splittedy-seconds at this pace more now before we clench ‘em! Ha-ha! Ra-ra! On the prowl, with the help of a sensuous pussy cat! Embla Duchess von Herrenhausen-South!” a strange muscular ettin, running in the nude up to the orange haired lady.
The Duchess cursed at the naked creature, waving a hand as if garbage was in her midst. “Piss off, Meister, I ain't helping nobody. I’m just out sightseeing.”
“Meister? Meister??? I am the marrrrrrvelous Geissmeister! Huzzah, and ra-ra! I am here to smite the monkeys and claim my rightful prize: you!” Slobbering, his long blue tongue flicked out to the lady's face like striking cobra.
“Marvelous Geissmeister, if you don't put that thing away it will become Sir Pork’s favorite candy.”
“Candy?? The only candy is that ass of yours I own! Haha! Do not deny it.”
“My ass? No, I own your ass, Meister. Remember I work for your surgeon? The Groomslayer? Your creator?”
“Creator?? I am my own creator!! In fact, it was I who created the Groomslayer, ra-ha-ha!"
A thunderous crack and bolt shot into the crowd. Some of the sprinters stumbled;
more were trampled.
Kurt whipped his arquebus backwards from Canute, aiming with deadly precision.
“Hellfire! How did that ape get a blunderbox??” shouted the amber skinned ettin as a firecracker-round whizzed past his cheek.
Kurt fired a fourth shot driving the horde further back.
“Foul cur!!!Try this one on! I like my ape-meat cooked well-done,” said the Geissmeister, pulling out his own firearm, a hundred years more up to date than Kurt’s old R.C.Z. arquebus.
More ettins drew hand-cannons and Subohemian blunderboxes firing at the riders.
Kurt spurred ahead of the Bodyguard. Kurt shot another exploding round, grazing the red scalp of Embla.
She groaned. “Pork, let’s head back to my obelisk. We’re done here.”
A firestorm erupted amongst the sprinters. A dusty tornado merged with sparks and the ricochet of exploding rounds, swallowing up half of the fifty into a spiraling tomb.
“It’s a burnado!!!” yelled the Geissmeister. “Hold your fire! Men, hold! Your blunderboxes are blundering more than boxing!”
Nothing was figured of the Bodyguard's superhuman storming of the Jaguar Town gate, as each pulver shot bounced off his body exploding in the faces of those close enough to escape the raging furnace twisting at their heels.
More Subohemians fell to the blaze, turning to ash. The Geissmeister sprinted up to Blueboy, his tongue flicking at the hooves.
The Bodyguard drew a handcannon, firing, but it was too primitive a weapon to harm the taut flesh of the Geissmeister.
Leaping over the heads of his comrades, the amber skinned ettin drew a scimitar letting it chop down on the horse's neck.
Blueboy collapsed. The Bodyguard leapt from his steed to the road, somersaulting with Verity in his arms.
Kurt drew back, firing again at the remaining ettins.
Etzel’s resilient form stood its ground, holding the limp body of Verity, her green dress rippling in the force of the flaming tornado.
During the chase, dawn had come though none paid it mind, as night had already been swallowed by the sun-brightness of their artillery.
The fire had chased them far down an old dirt road, flanked by willows and orchards and oaks, all so familiar to Kurt.
The ettins cheered as he crashed to the ground.
The Geissmeister grinned. “RA-RA!!! I...WIN!!!.” He licked his chops stepping towards Kurt, his arquebus trigger clicking to silence. Blueboy's body lay on the road, his head in the amber ettin's hand.
Canute had crumpled in exhaustion.
Kurt and the bodyguard were pressed between a wall of fire and the ten remaining pursuers.
“Damn you, Eduardo Magnifico! I wanted to eat the blue one! Fine... fresh horse flesh for you all, but for me..." said the Geissmeister to the amber ettin, “For these apes, I’ve worked up an appetite. Ra-ha!”
“You certainly have,” spoke another in their midst.
Kurt first looked to the source of this new voice. He had heard its messages in his pulver Ear, its whispered codes throughout the pursuit. The tornado suddenly vanished as if falling down a trap door.
Kurt looked around to the immediate source of the voice, then realizing exactly where they had ended up.
Driven far from the Mockwitch foothills, they were now closer to the gates of Rancho Herrenhausen; next to the Old Great Oak, where John Ormsvard had been slain 70 years before.
Embla yelled: “Groomslayer...you need to talk some sense into this creation of yours.”
Behind them was a man in black, a blue “O” and “A” pinned to his breast. He was huge, wearing a heavy golden helm; under it was a skull, and beside it was a second gray face, the same gray of the Geissmeister.
Indeed, their two faces were identical.
“Ah, Groomslayer! Go slay a groom and leave this ape hunt to the pros,” said a drooling Geissmeister.
An arquebus popped off. The Geissmeister fell dead.
The Groomslayer returned the smoking gun to his pocket.
“Another failed experiment,” he said quietly.
Kurt did not recognize this Groomslayer. Certainly the one who killed John had only one face.
The Bodyguard was trembling, his inaudible words colored in hatred. “Geissler.”
“But…it looks nothing like Eugenius Geissler…” thought Kurt.
The black skull of the Groomslayer spoke privately to Kurt's pulver ear, hissing:
“Oh indeed, when I last saw you, Carolusson, I was quite a different man. As when I last saw this miraculous creature...” The gray skinned face smiled, eyeing the face of Etzel.
“You see, I am ever becoming greater. I slay, and as another falls, his body becomes my own," spoke the gray face aloud to the crowd.
Eduardo shrugged. “Yeah, big whoop. This is Subohemian business. We’re hunting on behalf of General Adatmen. Ever heard of him? He’s an ettin-god. He’s gonna give us a big prize once we’re done with our apegift’.”
"Know him? I birthed him," sneered the gray face.
The Groomslayer nodded once and then raised his dual faces to the sunlight creeping onto the old Oak road.
“No use arguing with your kind...I'm here because you ignored Count Bloodfirth’s warning to stop chasing these apes...his order was directly from the Unghost...In the Order of Azza, his word is our word and failing to comply with Azza's word warrants the most grievous penalty.”
Embla scowled. “Eugenius, Sir Pork ran after these apes...I know you wanted him to get some fresh air and exercise on this little field trip we’ve been set out on, but I think he’s finished...I’ll take him back home now.”
The Groomslayer nodded. “Yes...I do believe this one is finished. Another failed experiment...what a pity.”
Embla screamed as she watched the head of Sir Pork fall from his shoulders.
The Groomslayer lowered his chopping hand and smiled. “You know our family does not approve of marrying outside our bloodline, cousin. No worries, I'll make another Geissmeister to woo you...”
“You bastard. You pfucking bastard,” said Embla, wiping tears over the corpse of Sir Pork, his neck sputtering a stream of blood down to the oak.
The Groomslayer pointed an accusing finger to the Bodyguard and Kurt.
“Now for those who fail to follow my orders, the orders of the Unghost, there are consequences."
The ettins muttered amongst themselves, Eduardo shouting: “We know the Ettin Law: The strong are gods and we are strong!”
“No, that’s not quite right. You have to prove your godhood, otherwise you are just an ape...and all of you are no more gods than this Verity and Carolusson. Now. Bow before me, as you bow before yourself in the mirror.”
Verity? thought Embla. My cousin?
The Subohemians turned back towards the R.C.Z. wall.
“We’re leaving,” said Eduardo.
“Bow,” said the Groomslayer.
“No...” said Eduardo, quietly.
The Groomslayer nodded. “Very well, we have taught you well. You truly believe yourselves to be superior to your maker.”
With a rapid punching of the Groomslayer’s fist, the ettins were mashed into a puddle of black sludge.
The Groomslayer turned to Kurt and Etzel's eyes.
His skeleton face spoke: “A grave for men and horses this place is, yes, Carolusson, I remember it well. How that old man died. How I slew him so gracefully. And how Azza spared you…But you thought you could fool Azza."
The gray face then spoke. "And you...Bodyguard...You thought you could cheat your apegift?... You still want that beautiful body, Bodyguard? ...oh, look, in all of your running away you haven’t yet noticed...it’s gone...she’s gone...”
The Bodyguard frantically scanned the ground.
Verity’s body was indeed gone.
“Where...where is she?” said the Bodyguard, cringing in rage.
“She? Still delusional as ever...no, I want to humor you a bit longer. Tease you...Etzel."
Pointing to the mountains, he said, "Mockwitch. He has the body you desire. Find him. Last chance."
The Groomslayer lazily waved an arm disappearing between the worlds of man and ettin.
Embla dug a grave for Sir Pork without saying a word to Kurt and the Bodyguard, before trudging off back towards the R.C.Z. border.
Kurt buried the two horses under the Old Oak, the Bodyguard fallen over in a trance mumbling about the body.
All the while, three little shadows watched them silently from the oaken grave, patting the dead horses on their heads.
Chapter V: Death, Scale and Yucca Tree