035 – Steven Plays Along, Caspian Does Not

Steven turned and watched, as four men were in the far side of the pit, looping rope to the paws of the critter, and pulling its corpse out. The head hung at a sickening angle, as she had torn most of the neck out the right side. Blood pooled on the dirt floor of the pit.

Steven felt a flash of nausea. He then stood up. He had been thinking about this all day, and had decided to pair his machismo and common sense together. He had kept his trousers on, but removed the rest. The crowd murmured in apparent approval, and some awe at his size. He pulled out his ka-bar knife, and slipped the loop off his ankle. He then stepped to the edge of the pit, and looked around.

The master of ceremonies stood to his side.

“She has explained things to you?”

“Some. I go in, and fight what ever you dump in with me. Neither is allowed to leave until one is dead.”

“Ready?”

Steven looked at the shorter man. “What am I fighting?”

“Dinner.”

A cage was brought forward.

“In you go.” A hand was put to the small of Steven’s back and gently pushed him forward.

Steven had been thinking about what they would toss in with him all day. If it really was dinner, then would he fight one of the local deer-like things, or a horde of the bunny like critters he and Caspian had been mostly subsiding on? On the other hand, canine was an acceptable dish in some places, and what looked like wolf and fox prints had been spotted. Or they might even have a taste for some of these more exotic predatory critters, like what Abey had just torn up. Or maybe a mountain cat equivalent, like Abey had mentioned fighting earlier.

Steven took one step forward, and landed in a 3 point crouch, knife held to the side. He watched as the cage was opened and tipped up. The absurdity of this suddenly hit Steven, and he tossed dignity to the wind. The wind threw absurdity back in his face, as a sheep was dropped in. The crowd all laughed at this, and Steven joined them.

“Mutton-bustin’.” Steven muttered under his breath. “I think I would have preferred a wolf.”

Steven shrugged, and walked forward. It took him several moments to corner and catch the thing; the crowd was laughing itself silly as he did. Finally, he caught the thing, and slit its throat wide. He then turned it over, and got ready to eviscerate it, but was stopped by a native. They took it out as Steven went over to the wall.

He jumped up and pulled himself up to sit on the wall, and then moved to the bench. Abey was still being tended, as her shoulder was worse than he had first supposed. She had a blanket over her right side, and across her lap, while her left side was exposed and the bite was being treated. Another person was painting the fresh claw marks on her back.

She looked at him, with mirth. Heedless of her partial nakedness.

“I expected a predator, for all your talk of valor.” Steven had a slightly bitter feeling. “It does not feel right to kill, and then not help dress it.”

The master of ceremonies heard this. “Then go do so.”

Steven looked at him, and then turned to Caspian, who just shrugged.

Steven got up to leave, and Caspian got up. Steven walked around the far side of the pit and started after the crew that had taken the dead sheep, his bloody knife still in his hand. Then the noise from the crowd changed.

He stopped to see what Caspian was doing.

Cyrril was on the bench, crouched on Caspian’s staff. In the pit, Caspian had not removed his boots or shirt, and he still wore all his weapons and other equipment. This got some derisive calls from the crowd. They dumped in another sheep. But Caspian caught it magically before it landed, and floated it back out. He then yelled in the native’s language. This was met by some unbelieving laughter.

So Caspian put his hands out in front of him. Steven could taste electricity in his mouth, which he was coming to associate with Caspian’s casting a strong spell. Suddenly three cages were floating over the heads of the crowd, and over the pit. The crown hushed, in wonder. Some in fear, others in anger.

The cages lowered to the level of the pit, and tipped over; three of the same critters that Abey had fought were dumped out. The cages then were tossed to the ground beyond the pit, as Caspian turned his attention to the critters. He reached around his left hip and drew out his bush knife in an underhand grip, and faced the three hissing and growling creatures as they got to their feet. Everybody went quiet as this outlander faced three.

Caspian was in no mood to prolong this, and he just did not want his nose rubbed in his perceived weakness. Where Steven had shown the good humor to play their game, Caspian wanted to win it on his terms. He yelled what the magic-users felt was a null-magic spell, which blanked out all the active magic in the area, and held it suppressed. Thus, he could not use magic to get out of this.

The three critters were evidently familiar with each other, so they wasted no time in picking out the danger among them. Caspian stepped toward the first, feinted a lunge that backed it off a bit; he then kicked the second under its jaw, knocking it aside as it swiped at him and missed. The third charged, and Caspian brought the knife in a low side sweep that got under its chin, and opened its throat up, as it leapt on him. Caspian let this carry him down, keeping it between him and the first one. It tried to snap at him, but he avoided its one try, while being soaked by blood. He let go of it and rolled to his left. His grip switched to overhand, and stabbed the second one in its throat and sliced down, killing it solidly. He then got up, and faced the first one, as it leapt off the body of the last. His knife quickly came up to the beast’s mouth, as his arms caught its paws, and they went over the body of the second. Its momentum was enough to carry it off Caspian as his knife, going with, all but cut its jaw off. Caspian rolled quickly to his belly, and to face it, as it got to its feet in obvious distress.

Caspian looked about quickly, and saw what he wanted. He got up as the thing stumbled a bit, but it was not paying attention to him. Caspian ran to one of the walls, jumped up, and grabbed the bottom of a spear that was being held by one of the pit-minders. He pulled it out of the startled man’s hands, and into the pit, quickly taking a proper grip. He advanced on the distressed creature, and poked it once to get its attention, then ran the spear home, putting the wounded creature out of its misery.

The crowd was thrilled by the blood sport, but distressed at how efficient this outlander had done it. And by what method, in general violation of their cultural rules. A stunned buzz replaced what had been a howling cheer previously. Caspian tossed the spear up to its owner, and picked up his knife, turning away from the three bodies.

Steven forgot about finishing his kill, and went back to where Caspian was climbing out.

“What was that?”

Caspian looked up to Steven. “That was playing their game my way.”

Caspian picked up the staff, and tapped it on the stone. The magic-users felt the spell that nullified the magic dissipate. This was to the healer’s relief, as he continued working on Abey’s shoulder. Steven could see now that her collar bone was broken, as well as her chest and shoulder muscles being torn and chewed.

Caspian kept a hold on the staff, and closed his eyes and spoke an unknown word. As if a squeegee was running down him, all the blood and dirt ran out of and down Caspian’s outfit, some rolled out of his knife’s sheath, and onto the ground at his feet. He then stepped to his seat and sat down.

Steven was a bit dumb struck. Caspian was always doing things his way, but he had generally abided the customs of the area, as he knew them. As Steven judged the reaction, Caspian had just turned off this village from anything more than a civil discourse with him. Steven looked around, as the master of ceremonies stepped up, and closed the evening’s festivities here. This as the handlers were getting the three critters out of the pit.

Steven looked at Abey, but she was busy with the healer. Caspian gathered his gear, and walked toward the lit town square. The Master of Ceremonies came over to Steven.

“Are you going to help slaughter your kill?”

“Um, I think it is already finished. Where can I go clean up?”

A woman was motioned over, and given instructions. She took Steven’s hand, and her children gathered his gear, and they led him away into the dusk. They took him to a trough and pumped some water for him from the well next to it. One of the older children showed up, and handed Steven what turned out to be a strong ash-soap. It quickly and efficiently cleaned things up. The children left, and the woman waited patiently while Steven removed his trousers. As he washed up the rest of the way, she took the trousers to the other end of the trough, and quickly washed the little bit of blood off them, and returned them, damp.

Steven got back dressed, and shouldered his gear, and followed the woman to the town square. He was toasted and hailed as he sat down next to Caspian. Caspian sat on the end of the bench, of the table at the end of the gathering. Cyrril was not in evidence. Caspian picked his way through a joint of meat, with a plate of vegetables in front of him, and a mug to the side.

Steven’s stuff was put aside, by Caspian’s and Abey’s. As that happened, a spit was brought across the gathering, and placed over a fire. Steven guessed that it was his sheep, from the size. As he sat, a plate with three kabobs of roast vegetables, and a mug was put in front of him by some servers.

Steven pulled out his folding knife, and began using it to eat. He sniffed the brew in the mug. It smelled of a slightly fermented fruit juice. He nudged Caspian. “What is this?”

“Local home-brew. Not much to it. It’s fine.”

They had already gone the rounds about alcoholic drinks in the first few days on planet. Steven kept some wine around the house, but only served it with certain cultural dinners, or cooked with it. Roxanne’s family did not drink alcoholic drinks in general, due to her father. Mike had a DUI-hit-and-run when he was in college that had scared him sober. When Caspian had deliberately tested Steven with some local moonshine in their first village, Steven had ended up dumping it in Caspian’s lap.

Steven enjoyed the vegetables, and was on his last one when a joint of meat was brought around.

“They want to know how much you want.” Caspian translated.

“How much is a serving?”

They carved a piece off. Steven looked at it, and then held up two fingers. They cut a second piece and put them on his plate. Caspian took one piece himself, and the servers went on.

“Other servers will be around with other stuff. Don’t fill up on just one thing.” Caspian leaned over, while holding the last of the joint in his hand.

Abey came past, her left arm in a sling. She was in just a toga at the moment, having other wise cleaned up. “And don’t be afraid to leave some behind. The leftovers are cleaned up and either stewed or fed to the hounds.”

Abey continued further into the group, to sit elsewhere. The children that had already helped Steven came and claimed him, and took him to sit with Abey, surrounded by more children and a few older ones. As Steven turned to sit to Abey’s left, he noticed Caspian had been brought with, and sat to Steven’s left. One little girl began braiding a seventh brain into Abey’s left side hair.

Steven finished his bite. “How’s the shoulder?”

“It should be completely healed in a day or two, thanks to his potion. But I need to salve the bite to keep it moist, and prevent it from going rotten.”

Prevent infection, Steven thought to himself, sensible.

“Wizard,” Abey asked across Steven. “Why did you do what you did?”

“I don’t like being the butt of jokes.”

“You wouldn’t have been. Didn’t you hear what I was saying to the crowd? For me, this was a rite of passage.” The little girl finished and disappeared.

Steven interrupted. “And what was mine?”

“A bit of fun, and a test to see how domesticated you are. That you wanted to go help slaughter it was a good bonus.” Abey bit into some roast vegetable.

“And what of his?” Steven motioned to Caspian.

“These people live by the hunt. What he did was not any sort of ritual, as mine was. His was a pure display of dominance. But, do you know what happens to rogue alphas?”

“They are driven out, and sometimes the pack turns on them.”

Abey nodded. “That is what he has branded himself.”

With Abey to translate and help Steven with the culture, he found he was enjoying his first real sit-down meal since arriving on planet. And there was the promise of plenty left over for them to take with. When Steven finally crawled into a borrowed bunk, he was well sated, and as relaxed as he could be.