Chapter 8

Millie ran behind me, trying to keep up. I had the spear in my right hand and I fumbled to shrug the backpack’s straps from my shoulders. I eventually got them free while I kept running.

Finally, I saw the cabin through the trees. There was no one outside, but the door was slightly ajar. Sandra wouldn’t have left it that way if she’d had a choice! I slowed down and concentrated on moving quietly. The noise Millie made was far enough back not to be detectable...

My spear was ready, left hand just behind the socket, right hand far enough down the shaft to provide strength to a thrust. This grip would ordinarily leave the spear slanted across my body, but by extending my left arm forward and pulling the right elbow in tight, the lethal stone tip was at eye level, pointing forward. I pushed gently against the door.

As the door swung slowly open, it revealed a stocky man inside, facing away from me. He wore leathers, deerskin I thought, and held a small buckler in his left hand. I couldn’t see his right hand, but Sandra was facing the man, knife in her right hand and left extended forward in guard position. There was a bloodstain on her right side, just above the hip.

It was enough.

I lowered the spear tip and lunged forward, my weight behind that chipped-stone point. It entered his back just below the ribs and to the left of the spine. He straightened in shock, and I saw the short sword in his other hand. The blade was long, leaf shaped, and made of metal. It wasn’t like my Futurist knife; this weapon was made for stabbing.

My dart sank in until the end of the spear-shaft dimpled his skin. He grunted and stumbled forward, I pulled back, and the shaft came free just as it was supposed to, leaving the dart in his body. I held the shaft up as a guard against surprise—the spear was a weapon in its own right—but he collapsed, never knowing what had killed him. Surprise! Let that be a lesson to you, close the door when you come in!

I got a surprise of my own as the door swung further open. I had brushed it with my hip while spearing the first man, and now I spotted movement. A second man looked at me, mouth open. Like the other, he held a buckler in his left hand and a short sword in his right, and had an astonished look on his face.

I knew I was in trouble! My dart tip was gone and the others were in the pack I’d dropped back along the trail. I didn’t have time to think about it, so as he brought up the small round shield I thrust my empty spear shaft at the unprotected bridge of his nose, putting my weight behind it. My aim was slightly off; the socket-tip punched him in the face just below his left eye and skidded up, finally ending up in the eye socket. Well, there went the old binocular vision; I’d probably ruined his whole day too! Astonishing, the thoughts that skid through your mind when you don’t expect them!

He was tough and determined. He should have been in agony from the eye injury, but maybe he hadn’t felt it yet, and that small shield was positioned to defend his torso. The stabbing point of the long, heavy blade now pointed toward me. Not close enough yet, the spear shaft would keep him from closing, but...

Sandra took the opportunity his change of stance presented. She sprang forward and used both hands to plant her knife into the back of his neck, right where it joined his body. He collapsed, and she stumbled forward as he fell. I grabbed her, yanked her upright, and pushed her behind me, then switched my spear shaft to my left hand while fumbling for my axe and trying to watch everything in the cabin at the same time.

There was a movement to my rear! I almost gutted Millie, but she squawked and jumped back in time to avoid the strike. A deep breath, followed by a short pause ... I began to recover from the adrenaline-fueled fear and combat madness, shaking. I was panting and trying to get my breath, I was spattered with blood, there were blood drops everywhere over the floor, and spreading pools of red where the men had fallen. One man was dead from the knife that still stuck up from the back of his neck, the other was dead or nearly so; I’d had to step over him as I turned toward Millie.

But he might not be dead yet, so I drew my axe and turned it hammer-side down. I swung hard at his head and brained him. If he wasn’t dead before, he surely was now! His companion got the same treatment.

I pulled Millie into the cabin and slammed the door behind her, holding it in place while she dropped the bar into the locking hooks. So much for airing out the cabin; it stank of blood, shit, piss, and whatever smelly things are in the human abdomen.

Butchered humans smell a lot like fresh-killed animals, only worse. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

My spear was done; the socket at the end had split when it hit the bones of the second man’s face. A triangular piece had broken away from the wood, despite the reinforcement I’d wrapped around it. The cord and glue had also come loose, but even so the old spear had done its job one last time.

The second man, the one Sandra and I had killed together, was the reason for the blood on her dress. He’d used his long blade to try to convince her to drop her knife and had ended up putting a two-inch gash above her hip. Well, she’d returned the favor, her cut not so long but better placed and much more lethal.

The three of us huddled against the wall, shaking with reaction. I listened to see if there might be more of them outside, but heard nothing.

Recovered, I was finally able to leave the two women holding each other while they wept from the shock and fear. Freeing the short swords from of the hands of the dead men took less than a minute. Their fingers still gripped the hilts, even after death, but I managed.

The weapons were reasonably well balanced, likely copied from ancient Roman or Greek examples; swords intended for thrusting had been the weapon of choice for foot soldiers back then. For close combat, they’re far superior to longer slashing blades.

I handed each of the women a sword, then looked out through the peephole in the door. Nothing moved, but I would have to scout the outside to be sure; there might still be more of them. One surprise, finding a second attacker in the cabin, was enough!

Millie recovered first. Sandra had acted when she needed to, so if she was a little hysterical now I could forgive her that.

The door was barred now, but it was short-term protection at best. The cabin simply wasn’t a safe refuge against human enemies as it now stood. Bear, lion, sabertooth ... it didn’t matter, because they couldn’t get through the stout walls. They wouldn’t stick around, but sooner or later we’d be forced to come out and face whatever waited. Human enemies would be waiting.

History is filled with examples of successful sieges. The armies of Attila and Genghis Khan could attest to how well they worked.

As soon as I’d cleared the door I scuttled some thirty yards away into the sheltering trees. I carried my knife and axe in readiness and tried to control my breathing, even while listening for any disturbance. But I heard almost nothing, not even the usual bird-and-insect noises; just the gentle soughing of a breeze as it shook the leaves.

My breathing soon returned to normal, but I remained there for half an hour, probably longer, just waiting. Reassured, I scouted my way slowly around the edge of the clearing while stopping every few paces to listen and observe. The whole process took hours, but I found nothing. Not even the tracks of the two men who’d died in the cabin, and I should have found something. Skilled woodsmen? It didn’t matter now.

The sounds of the forest soon returned to normal, and not just the insects and birds. A squirrel chattered in the distance, and something small rustled fallen leaves across the clearing. If the animals had been disturbed before, they weren’t now.

I thought about something that hadn’t occurred to me during the fight; the stone war-club might well be preferable to my knife or axe in a fight. Clubs kill by crushing and they don’t get stuck, unlike stabbing tools such as the attackers’ short-swords. A new club, one with a chipped edge, would be better than my first effort. My current version needed to be swung hard, the one I envisioned would create a wound from even a moderate hit.

Finally satisfied that there no others about, I went back to the door and tapped on it. A voice whispered “Who?” and I barely kept myself from giggling. Reaction is a funny thing, and all that came to my mind was the thought that we’d been invaded by owls!

But I whispered “Matt” and the door swung open.

The cabin stunk. It wouldn’t get better until we took out the trash, so Millie and I grabbed an arm apiece and dragged the nearest dead man out. We left him just inside the edge of the forest, went back, and gave the second one the same treatment. I have no idea why dead men feel so much heavier than live ones, but they do. We managed, and after a short break to catch our breaths, we dragged the bodies farther into the woods.