Chapter 17

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil u’Zhasaele Zolaemaue be’Son

7. Koelae, 24,536 - North of the Yaro’s Head
I have two daysworth of news to bewrite, though little time and less quickness to do so. I will tell what I can.
Yestermorn we akept our Queenslayer hunt. Slow furtherness while Elarue and Devaeas read its path. I sent riders to scout each hillock and landmark ahead, for so great a Qoelu needfully outstands among the marshlands. If lucky, we would see and steal ahead. While no such Qoelu-sight meant our slowness, our scout brought word the path broadly led toward a farmhold marked by a well-sized hometree lying ahead, and moreso hearthsmoke rising. Its name forgot us. Yet Elarue and Devaeas read clear the warning: though the Yaruks might afterdraw the Queenslayer, the neighborland holds much more it would reckon food: thurseherds, grubholds, Shotalashu, and even Lashunta-flesh, which it would swallow like sugarberries. They beread that toward this holdstead the fearsome Qoelu would likely make way. They also reckoned the Queenslayer would slumber now and strike at evetide. So we chose to hasten toward and reach the farmhold before its head.
Afternoon brought us to our goalstead, where we found few dwellers, for the Korasha and younger wives had gone to the fird-call, though where steaded we knew not. So were beleft with a handful of crones, two wives heavily bechild, a grandfather too halt to fight, and a pack of children: easy prey and tasty if the Queenslayer overcame. We bewared them, bade them forsake farm and thurses, and sent a rider with them toward hopeful fastness. Then we set mind how to hunt this Queenslayer.
At Elarue and Devaeas’s word, we held the thurses within a fold nearest the Queenslayer’s pathway, for they would stand as bait. All the farmhold’s hearthfires we snuffed, to quell any stench that might offput the big Qoelu. Then we hid our flag-troop in three knots offwind and a length from the thurse-hold, for Nyssholora have a keen feel for the mind-bond between riders and Shota. We put two within canegrass groves on each side, and the third, which I led, further off, hidden behind the hometree. Then we settled to wait.
Evetide came, and we had to chide the riders not to stir and keep the Shota still. At last, right ere dusk, something rustled through the brushwood, and Devaeas, who watched with the lefthand knot (rather from my stead) waved a flag, which was beacon to ready.
Then the thurses bawled warning. They bucked and fled to the fold’s side further from the brush. I stayed watching the canegrass leaves, which soon tossed and waved.
A nightmarish head forthcame, huge on its short, thick neck, blunt snout narrowing from heavy jaws, and too many eyes. A body, longer than Ess’s whole length nose to tail, followed, and perched thenceforth two chubby arms, laughingly small as matched on their frame, and right underneath its two scythe-limbs not so small. Neither anything small bespoke the rear legs bearing its bulk, however, which rose so tall that Ess and I could ride underneath, nor the tail stretching backward so long again. Here stood a Nyssholora - Queenslayer, the first alive I had ever seen.
On its arrival the thurses howled and flung themselves against the fence, which din drew the Queenslayer’s heed. If a Qoelu can smile, this one so did thinking of its trapped prey. It hastened forth and easily overstrode the fold’s fence, which worked us well. Devaeas dropped his flag - our beacon to strike.
Our two forward knots straightway outringed the paddock’s further side, and so to forbid the huge hunter from fleeing back into the brushwood. The Queenslayer took swift sight at the tiny shapes swarming, however, and roared an earth-shattering shriek. The wretched thurses trampled themselves and at last broke through the fence. Their affrightened flight went unheeded, for the dreadful hunter had deemed a threat worthy of its wrath. It swerved at my brother’s troop, ingathering Less, Krastaes, Istae, Tae, and Hanos.
At the beacon, I had bidden our rearward troop ride forth, though too far away at first breathtide. I watched the Queenslayer leap onto my brother’s and Istae’s stead, who though they outscrambled, danced off kilter and could not strike back. The Queenslayer’s head, nigh so long as my brother’s height, swerved at him and widened its knifeful maw.
Then Krastaes afoot rushed in; greataxe swinging. His weaponhead chopped into the great killer’s jaw, not enough to cripple, but drew its wrath. It glared down at the stout Korasha, who whirled his haft to offdrive. To his plight, it looked unbeswayed. So while we sprinted forth, I aimed a Mind-thrust at its brain. In good news, it bewitted my far stroke; in bad, it shrieked at me, for seemingly it had not enough brain to harm, and though it stood yet too far off to harm, still it deafened. It strode forth as if it bethought to meet our charge.
By then a twelvesome arrowshafts sprouted from the Qoelu’s hide, though against its bulk they hardly recked. What did happen, however, is that my misdrawal gave Istae time to settle her steed and wield swordbill, and Krastaes to inrun near. Together they struck right as Draue’s troop struck from their offside. They had forsaken bows for handaxes and hunting-spears, whereby they scored its flank and rear. Surprising for its bulk, which must be almost ten boatweights, the Dreadthing spun and sought wrath-butt. Its tail flung both Krastaes and Istae aside; him from foot and her from steed. Though he swiftly wallowed up to flight, she hit her head and rose slowly. Her Shota gathered and bellowed threatfully, but the Queenslayer seemingly had found its first wretch.
And then our troop, who had galloped hopelessly from the hometree so far off, and had dodged fright-maddened thurses hitherward, at last reached the fight. I set feet against stirrup, while I kicked forward, outflung my spear-arm, and made swordbill my body’s outstretch, aiming upward deep into the Queenslayer’s breast. Beside me Oshis and Nae also struck, and our two other riders I had borrowed from Draue’s troop. Off aside, I heeded Draue’s lead rushing in again. If we could not slay it now, then we had no hope.
Against my inthrust swordbill the Queenslayer twisted. Its thunderlike roar deafened, such that I feared I might never hear again. Then its huge body swung away, and ere I witted, its beamlike tail blasted and sent me and Ess tumbling. I coughed stranglingly while my ribs burst. Then I hit ground, where hurt shot blindingly up my shield arm. I tried to breath but could not while darkness warred with light-motes in my eyes.
I woke unsoothly, with Ess’s hurtful barks in my ears and his hurt ringing through my antennae. Remaue and Tae knelt over me; eyes wide and faces tight. When I tried to breathe, I wanted to scream from hurt, only I could not. Reckfully as I could, I drew breath while broken ribs stabbed. They had already cut through my harness and wrestled it off. Luckily I was not bleeding, neither within nor without. Aside from my ribs now twice shattered, my arm was broken. I beheld other tumbled bodies, Lashunta and Shotalashu; some standing, others but stirring. Happily, none were lying still. While I lay, Oshis, my brother Elarue, and Draue led the outstaying riders after a swath wide and bloody, though within a belltide they came back. Less and Krastaes strode the edge; axes twitching, and overlooked the survivors. Istae blearily shook her head and looked uncanny to see straight. Against all our harm, we lived.
Laterward, I got the fight’s end-tale after I swooned. Our stroke had maddened the Queenslayer enough that, though it fought its way through our rows, its main want lay in flight. It knocked two of Draue’s riders from steed ere it ducked into the canegrass and headed for the river. Then, however, my main thought became rue at loss of my great-grandmother’s swordbill-blade, which had stuck well in my foe’s breast when the haft broke. Somewhat shakenly I asked Remaue whether they had found it, and got stern reproof.
With me broken and Istae head-stricken, Tae took comand of our tattered flag. She sent a rider ahead to find help and had the Korasha tie a shield-litter for me, for I was in no shape to ride. Then softly as canny, we followed the path riverward from the farmhold while I faded between mindlessness and hurt.
Toward dusk, we met a scoutfare, whose groom bore a pottle of poppywine for such hurts like I had. Unhappily this wrought strife as to whether I should be given the draft or be kept awake, for fear I might lose breath amidst bedrugged sleep. So breathless was I that I could not even speak my choice (not that Remaue would listen in wrath). At last they gave me a half-draft, whereafter I slept.
This morn, we found the fird, who were glad at our sight. I was brought to a healer’s tent, who ahardened my reckonship. He first bound my ribs and gave more poppywine ere he set my arm. I woke feeling much better, for he also had worked healcraft while I slept. I am still bedridden, and my arm bound, but the ribs have eased. I am still a black and orange mess but can sit hurtlessly, which lets me write this log.
Bywardly came Master-Captain to overlook me, along with eighteen names of fool-besottenness for taking a lone flag against a Queenslayer. He forespoke to send hunters to the river after the Dreadthing’s track, for it has likely overswum and sought shelter in the highlands. If we had wounded it so grimly as we claimed, however, he reckoned it may hopefully so die. In last word, he quoth I am lucky my flagmates love me so well. Then with a blessing hand laid upon my brow, he left.
Remaue says Ess is better, though his shoulder is sorely bruised. I sorrow I cannot heal him. He will be my first goal when I can walk.