438 338 – Horn Wars

It is tempting to say that I knew, absolutely, that my friends would lose to my migrants. But I know well that Might alone does not win battles.

No one statistic, no one skill, no one power. Nor is it a matter of just combining some of them.

For every advantage, there is a counter.

Take Flash Step, for example. It allows infantry the momentary advantage of rapid movement. To suddenly be elsewhere. Usually, it is used to either charge units, or bypass them to strike the unit behind them. Sometimes, it is used to escape from a pinched situation.

But... do you dare to use it if your enemy has a habit of standing just in front of a trap? What if you have trouble seeing where you want to be because of trees, because of seemingly random walls of brush?

And, as I’d indicated, somewhere the deer had gotten crossbow-harnesses. A quick kick to pull the string back and reload. Aimed by moving a hoof along a stirrup. Well, spun. I had no clue how they aimed the dang things.

Archers who could remain out of sight until they were firing, who supported each other from suddenly appearing melee troops. It must have been a nightmare.

From my work in the medical glen, I can attest it wasn’t a one-way battle. The deer took wounds through their armor, shattered or lost valuable weapons, the normal things. And... there were those who were just not ready for battle, who had seen things they were not prepared to make sense of.

And I was there well past highsun, which some people call noon.

.....

The doe cursed.

To me, she said,

I said.

I leaned on a tree.

I said.

The Deer were no strangers to conflict. Is it unseemly that I took pride looking about the small groups of warriors as they filtered to the glen in ones and twos?

“You.” said one of the youths. “You knew this would happen.”

I drew Heart’s Protector from my inventory. “I attempted to warn multiple people, in multiple ways. But if we are come to blades over this matter, then COME AT ME! NONE of this bloodshed needed to be.”

Minotaur are not humans; he cried openly and without shame. “My brother has lost an eye.” he said. “What woman wants a man crippled like that?”

“What warrior gives up hope just because they’ve lost an eye?” I asked.

“Indeed.” said Basilicus the Lesser, arriving into the clearing with two deer heads hanging from his belt. Hardly more than a fawn, the one, and the other was just getting their horns in. “It is how your brother deals with his missing eye, and not the eye itself that will determine what women will yearn after him. Trust me, young one, women do not crave warriors for their eyes.”

Not all truths need to be told; I have heard differently, and very much the same. Depends on the woman.

Basilicus snorted, scenting the air for his enemy. “They were here recently.”

“They were.” I said.

“And yet you look mostly unharmed.”

“I was not deliberately harmed.”

“Explain.” he said.

“I have heard reports, all day, of the conflict you both participate in. It is needless; if you are ready to depart...”

“NO!” shouted the youth, and charged me.

Have I explained combination, or Combo, moves? It’s something that normally unlocks only with training, usually around level three or so. But I have spent time among Daurians, where they know that a properly trained System will adapt to what you can already do without it.

My right foot slid further right, stopping exactly where it touched the nearby tree root. Even as the rest of my body shifted that way, my arms reflexively coming up, my left leg pivoted so that our ankles met.

[You have failed to trip your opponent.] my System informed me, as his inertia dragged us both for about a yard or so.

He brought a bloodied cleaver around, but only a fool would have left their leg out there to be severed. “Traitor!” he screamed. “I’ll kill you.”

I sighed, and was inhaling to reply when Basilicus grabbed my shoulder, lifted me, and hurled me to the ground. I rolled, avoiding a stomp and somehow managing to partially rise, trip over a root, and roll end over end down into a gully.

The ground at the bottom was soft, and the leaves moist, but there was no actual mud to speak of.

I had solid footing to dodge first left and then right, as a crossbow bolt and then a thrown spear (longer than I was) tried to strike me.

“What are you DOING?” I asked. “I am still your guide!”

“You are meat!” screamed one of the youths. “A pity that you will no longer whisper words into the ears of Maximus. Such savages, the Deer are, to have killed you.”

“You think you can lead US?” Basilicus said, spreading his arms wide. “Show us your hidden strength, midget! Runt!”

“Snack food!” one of the youths shouted.

“You think you can eat me?” I shouted back. “Come on, then. Let’s have us a chase.”

Because, even after all of it, I did want to have some of them to present to Uma. I had hoped to present the best and brightest; but if they were going to behave like this...

I led them south, to the river, and away from the stables.

“What’s going on down there?” one of our scouts yelled at me, pointing his arrow in case I thought another person was running for their lives.

“Oh, it’s not Deer.” I said. “Just a little bit of bad blood, let loose by all the good blood spilled today.”

“Are you in need of assistance?”

“Nah,” I said, not slowing down. “It’s just five or six of the young ones. I think Basilicus was already winded when the chase began.”

“Slow down, and one of us will show you what a winded minotaur can do!” Basilicus shouted.

“Speed up!” I shouted back. “The river is this way, and from there the path is safe.”

“Oh, poorly done, Basilicus.” the scout shouted at him. “Is your Might not high enough that you can fight one little snake alone? Why do you need these lesser, unproven youths.”

“As if!” Basilicus replied. “When he leads us into ambush, the youths will need my strength to break free.”

I am not ignorant of minotaur body language, but I was too busy to assess the scout as he watched us race past, in the bottom of that fold of earth.

With a laugh, I dove headlong into the broad stream where Titanic Swimming gave me the edge. I stayed on or near the surface, encouraging (or mocking, depending on your point of view) Basilicus and the three youths who were still with him.

“Really.” I said. “I find your plentiful energy encouraging.” And then I was below the surface, dodging a thrown rock.

Three quarters of a mile east, and then I exited on the northern bank, began climbing the trail up Outlook Hill. Perhaps I should call it a ridge? Anyway, I ran up the switchback trail, rarely losing sight of my pursuers.

Four, then three, then just Basilicus, foaming at the mouth and stumbling. ” You can’t win this, or you wouldn’t be running.”

“Oh, well, I mean if a walking speed is all I need now...” I didn’t dodge the hurled stone quite fast enough, and took two points of damage for my troubles.

He was more jogging than running at this point; honestly, his stamina should have started equal to his health. I was only down by twenty four fatigue, what was his excuse? I had chosen my position well, for when he rose up the ramp, pulling his spear from his inventory.

“Heh.” he said. “Over by the ledge, I see. You expect me to plunge blindly toward you, so you can trip me over the ledge?”

“A plan for the youths.” I said. “I honestly expected them to be able to keep up.”

“Blood of my body,” he said, “source of my power, heed my call, made through training and discipline, through blood and sweat. For a few steps, let me move like the wind. Flash Step!”

And he was... right there.

“Do you need a few seconds to buy an extra use per day?”

He spat, advancing at a normal speed.

“Take in the view behind me.” I said. “At your height, it should be visible.”

“God’s. Blood. That’s no stable.”

“It is a stable.” I said.

“That’s a fortress. I must warn Maximus.”

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