Disclaimer: I do not own 'Berserk'; this is only a fanfic.
Author's Notes: My sincerest condolences to a great writer and illustrator. My heart goes out to the family, friends, and colleagues of Miura Kentaro, his name lives on. The world has derived such pleasure from his works, holding us spellbound for years. I can't imagine this series continuing without you.
Thank you, Shisoukengo, for your last update. Your reviews are always welcome and informative.
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Chapter 10: Ambush
We moved steadily, yet covertly through the forest, under a cloak of darkness. Fortunately for us, there was not much of a moon tonight. And yet, that sliver of light from the night sky provided sufficient coverage from Chuder's militia.
An owl hooted nearby, and a coyote howled in the distance. Except for the scurrying movements of the nocturnal forest, the only other sounds were Gutts and my footsteps, crunching leaves underfoot, and the sound of panting breath.
Gutts led the way in full body armor as I, also fully equipped, struggled from behind, trying to keep up with his long-legged strides. As a soldier, I usually had no trouble maintaining this brisk pace; however, although the fever had lessened, the fatigue from blood loss and the pain from menstrual cramps slowed my progress.
Earlier, back at the cave, while I was having a tirade, revealing my past and baring my soul, Gutts noticed Chuder soldiers had gathered and were conversing just outside. He shushed me and pressed my head down as we drew back into the mouth of the cave, keeping ourselves concealed.
"They're probably dead by now! You saw how they fell off that cliff."
"It don't matter. Dead or alive, Sir Adonis promised a reward for the raiders' leader and that female commander."
"Well, ain't nothin' here; let's look further downstream. The bodies might have drifted with the current."
The groups dispersed; they followed the current and moved further away from our hideaway. Chuder's armies were the hunters, and Guts and I, whether dead or alive, were prey.
My armor felt heavier as I trudged behind Gutt's broad back. I despised him more than usual because he did not, nor would he ever, have to bear such a burden. If men experienced anything similar, I would love to know that malady; it might lessen my present animosity towards them. And yet, through the cramps, the lightheadedness, the fatigue of this monthly curse, I persevered. It was the only way to re-establish myself after losing control back at the cave. I hadn't acted like a soldier, but regressed to my gender; acting like a woman. I had cried, thrown a tantrum, had revealed things I had never mentioned to any other member of the 'Hawks.'; personal things about Griffith.
It was during this tirade that I told Gutts about the death of a 10-year-old child, a young trainee serving in our unit. The boy was found dead following a skirmish, clutching a toy, a wooden soldier, in his lifeless hand. That boy had admired Griffith, who was left feeling guilty and wondering if the pursuit of his dreams had killed that child.
I told Gutts that our leader became somber after that, yet my wayward tongue did not stop there. While in the service of a feudal lord, a wealthy, haggard old man with a sordid taste for young boys, I accidentally discovered the intimacy between him and Griffith. Horses, armor, food - all provisions supplied to the 'Band of the Hawks' came from their sordid and perverse union and one I found hard to believe.
Gutts gasped at my revelation; he was shocked. I understood as I had felt the same back then. Gutt's brow furrowed, confused, and then grew pensive; he relaxed back against the cave wall yet remained silent as I continued my tale.
I believe that was the first time I saw my savior in a new light, and I had said as much aloud. In my eyes, the angelic Griffith had fallen from grace, lost his wings, and returned to earth. Now, he was just a man - an awe-inspiring leader with a dream and the ambition to pursue it, which is more than I can say for myself or any close acquaintance. Regardless of his fall from grace, Griffith was still a man worthy of being served, and I would remain his shield as long as he allowed it.
The incline and uneven ground drew me away from my thoughts. It took everything I had to focus on maneuvering as I panted heavily. I staggered, my ankle turning slightly on a rock, and fell to my knees. I didn't call out; I never made a sound, yet Gutts turned around, looking down at me from his superior height and position.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice deadpan. "You givin' up?"
Gasping for air, I was unable to answer right away. Down on all fours, I could barely fight off the waves of cramps rolling across my pelvic than attempt to speak.
"Aw, hell..." Gutts began in an exasperated voice. "Women are such a pain," he barked.
"No physical strength," he continued, ignoring my outraged gasp. "They get pissed over every little thing and periods on top of that. Just look at 'cha," Gutts sniffed. "I guess women just ain't cut out for war."
"You know nothing about women!" I hissed, finally finding my voice.
"That's right," he stated reasonably. "I'm a man; what would I know?"
"But, I'll tell ya what I do know," Gutts smirked. "I know we don't have the time to be stranded here by your woman's problems. The enemy don't give a shit about your condition or if you're a woman or not. Come to think of it, that's to their advantage, y'know?"
Although Gutt's words pissed me off, they rang true. We could not stay here and cater to my body's weakness. We had to keep moving; each stop was a wasted effort and played right into the enemy's hands.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep cleansing breath, pushed myself up, and forced my feet to move. Marching up the incline towards Gutts, it took everything I had to ignore the pain in my pelvis and trembling legs. "Let's go!" I commanded, my tone brusque as I brushed past with my head held high, taking the lead.
While traipsing ahead, I wondered why it had to be Gutts? Why was I cursed to be stuck with him at my most vulnerable? I wanted to believe that he rejoiced in my present state of helplessness, yet I did not sense that from him. Even now, Gutt's words, though harsh, were neither complacent nor malicious. He would be well justified; even I was forced to acknowledge that.
Gutts stayed at the rear; we walked single file, and neither spoke. I knew not his thoughts, but I cursed myself for revealing so much of my feelings earlier. Then, my mood was an emotional pendulum as I relayed Griffith's past calmly and caring in the beginning. And yet, towards the end, I became volatile, verbally attacking and accusing Gutts of things he had no control over. I threatened him (which was nothing new), and what was worse, I wept on his chest like a child. Cringing at the thought, if he dared tell any of our comrades - to any Hawks member, I swear, I would-
Suddenly, Gutts shoved me from behind with such force I toppled forward. As I was falling, I heard the whistling sound of an arrow as it flew overhead, missing me by mere inches. Crouched on the ground, I sensed we were no longer alone, and watching Gutts draw that monstrosity of a sword, confirmed it.
Chuder soldiers, heavily armed, slunk from the shadowed forest and surrounded us. The moon shining down into the clearing revealed the presence of well over fifty men, all ready and willing to make good on the promised reward. As more soldiers entered the clearing, I hastily jumped to my feet, slid over, and stood back-to-back with Gutts.
"Hahaha!" a nasal laugh resounded through the trees. "I found you!"
On the rise, through a grove of trees, a few feet away, appeared Chuder's braggart general, Adon Coborlwitz, leader of the Blue Whale Knights. Despite our situation, I took profound satisfaction in seeing Corbortwitz's head and right eye covered in bandages. So, this was the result of the skirmish earlier. It was a pity his head was still intact after Gutts' effort to crack his skull open.
"I'm glad you're still alive, kid!" Coborlwitz bellowed from higher ground, addressing Gutts.
"Hey, ol' man!" he returned the greeting and could not resist a taunt, intent to humiliate. "You're lookin' pretty good yourself."
"Shut up!" Coborlwitz spat. "It was just a fluke, but a bastard like you caused me some real trouble. However, I..." he continued, "... a proud Chudor Knight, refuse to die without rectifying the situation. I won't let you die easily," he told Gutts ominously, before launching into a long-winded rant.
Gutts and I stood at the ready as the Chudor soldiers moved in close. Coborlwitz began a lengthy and detailed description of capturing us alive, intending to torture us using some secret 200-year family technique. Even if Gutts surrendered, he promised to keep him alive, yet planned to cut off his limbs and any other parts he felt necessary, to which Gutts only scoffed.
"Well,now," he tsked goodnaturedly, "I see you're still holding a grudge."
"As for the woman," Coborlwitz began, his voice deepened, realizing Gutts was unaffected by the threats to his person; therefore, he changed tactics. "I'll make her a plaything for my men."
"Might not wanna try that," Gutts replied as I gasped. "She's one scary woman; she just might bite you off," he ended on a menacing chuckle.
Coborlwitz, thrown off by the rapid reply, stood stunned for a moment. When the pun finally kicked in, his ire rose. His nostrils flared, and one eye squinted as he roared, "Kill them!" And then all hell broke loose.
The Chudor soldiers rushed us. Weaponless, I pressed back against Gutt's huge frame. I felt his stance and imagined him angling his sword as he raised it, and I knew what came next.
Gutts swung wide, nearly forming a complete circle. From behind, I crouched low as the blade passed overhead with such force it scattered the leaves on the ground. I heard the men's cries as Gutt's blade ripped through flesh. I looked up to find mangled, lifeless bodies and weapons scattered about the ground, and I lunged for the nearest sword.
The next group attacked. Now armed, I met them head-on. Blocking an incoming strike, I realized I was still weak. I dodged and followed through, aiming my sword at my opponent's neck, slicing through the main artery. I cut cleanly under the armpit of the next opponent, and the one after that - the wrist. I thought it more strategic to target vital areas in my weakened state, but I kept fighting. Through the grunts, squeals, and howls of pain, I kept swinging my sword with decisive accuracy until I once again stood back-to-back with my comrade.
"I... I don't…" I panted heavily, looking over my shoulder at Gutts."I won't - hold you back,"
"Now you're talkin'," was the gruff and straightforward reply.
It was strange how his nearness settled me. I felt the heat from Gutt's body as it permeated my back, and I sensed his heightened awareness. And yet, amid this chaos, not to mention us against many, I felt a sense of unanimity with him.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Coborlwitz shouted. "It's only two of them; dominate them in a single charge!"
His words set things in motion, and once again, Chudor soldiers attacked. Their boots were stepping on and over their comrades that lay dead or dying from the first charge. Gutts and I engaged them head-on, with him muscling through, mowing down anyone in his path. At the same time, I maintained my current strategy - focusing on vital points and incapacitating when unable to kill. We plowed ahead, taking out the entire group bold enough to approach first.
After slicing through the main artery under the armpit of a burly soldier, I stepped away for a short reprieve and second wind, with my sword at the ready, only to feel that familiar presence at my back.
Gutts looked over his shoulder and down on me, his eyes seemingly asking if I was okay. I answered with a nod before turning my attention to the advancing soldiers.
"Hmmm...," Coborlwitz groaned, seeing the number of dwindling soldiers surrounding us. "Useless... every one of them," he muttered and then cried out, "Samson! Samson!"
"Here, brother!"
Heavy footsteps pounded the forest floor, and a garish, overly-armored soldier entered the clearing. Before Coborlwitz announced it in his pretentious, verbose manner, I recognized the one called Samson.
Coborlwitz's younger brother and vice-general of the 'Blue Whale Armored Knights,' the man brandished a flail, a ball, and chain weapon that could crush the skull of an adult ox in one swing. At this moment, the weapon swirled over Samson's head as he bore down on us, moving steadily with destructive intent. It was then that I realized that if we had any dog left in this fight, it would soon be shattered to pieces and die a violent death.
In my condition, there was a slim chance of dodging that hunk of iron, nor could I deflect it with my sword. I envisioned it snapping my weapon in two, not to mention mangling my wrist, and I experienced the first feelings of panic.
My body froze, and my eyes were glued to Samson's figure as he charged towards us. Although physically still, my mind raced to find a way to evade his weapon. My anxiety must have communicated itself to Gutts as he moved around me and positioned himself directly into the path of the incoming swirling ball of fury. Before I could form a word, I heard a hiss of indrawn breath followed by Gutts' battle cry as he raised his arms high overhead with his sword clasped in both hands.
The clanging sound of iron connecting with steel rang through the clearing. Gutts swung his giant sword, striking the ball of Samson's flail weapon, and sent it flying. It hit the ground once, bounced, and struck a nearby soldier. The ball caved in the man's skull, who collapsed on the forest floor with blood pooling beneath his helmet.
"What the hell? He deflected it!" Coborlwitz gasped in surprise, but I also detected a note of awe in his voice. Although I shouldn't, I too was astonished. Gutts was known for outperforming the average mercenary soldier, much to my annoyance and envy. However, on this occasion, I could voice no complaint.
Angered by the maneuver, Samson released a flurry of attacks, swinging his flail with wild abandon. Gutts held his ground; with feet planted firmly apart, he raised his sword, repeatedly knocking away every one of Samson's strikes. The exchange was like a game of stoolball, with Gutts acting as a batter to Samson's pitch.
Although impressed, I stood behind Gutts, perplexed at his actions. He could easily evade and then go on the attack with his skill. There's no need for him to damage his sword unless - I gasped as reality dawned.
"He's protecting me!"
Why hadn't I noticed before? My bull-headed comrade's fighting method was more aggressive than this. When I first met Gutts, he strove to dominate every fight. From his domination and killing of the feared mercenary, Bazuso, to the insane battle with Nosferatu Zodd. Gutts never held back in any of his scrimmages with me, Griffith, or any other unfortunate Hawks member before joining us. It was one of the reasons for my hostility towards him and why I felt he needed discipline. While swinging his sword, I always felt there was never a thought in his head; he simply ran off instinct and adrenaline.
With Gutts swinging wildly, I noticed blood spurting from his body armor from where I stood.
"He's injured!?"
I could not recall when that had occurred; Gutts never said anything, and I was mindless of his condition. The fabric beneath the steel plates splattered each time he swung his sword, and my negligence and guilt gnawed away at me.
"Hahaha!" Coborlwitz's laughter drew me from my musings. "That arrow wound I inflicted on you earlier seems to be giving you trouble," he chuckled at Gutts as both warriors took a short reprieve. "That's what you get for protecting that woman," he spat. "Stop dawdling, Samson!" Coborlwitz informed his brother. "He's injured; finish him off quickly!"
"Hey!" Gutts voice pierced the fog in my brain.
"Huh?" I responded stupidly.
"I'm gonna clear a path for you," he murmured. "Make a break for the woods."
"What?" I gasped. "But..."
Before I could utter another word, Gutts once again stepped into the iron flail's path. Feet shoulder width apart, I watched him grind his boots into the soil to strengthen his stance. Suddenly, he launched himself forward with sword raised, meeting Samson's flail mid-air. The sound of steel clashing on iron resounded through the clearing for the final time.
Gutts sword shattered the iron ball; the thing seemed to explode with fragments flying everywhere, and Gutts did not stop there. Another flying leap; Gutt's muscular body was poised as he unleashed one furious strike, cutting clean through Samson's shield and - his skull.
"Go!" Gutts roared, addressing me as he stood over the body. "Get out of here - now! Move your ass!"
"But..."
"Don't jus' stand there and stare! Get the hell outta here!"
There was no movement from the side of the enemy. They were stunned into silence and paralyzed. I can only assume it was their astonishment over the absolute defeat of their most formidable warrior.
"I - I can't!" I cried, confused.
"What're you doin'? Run!"
What was Gutts asking of me? He wanted me to leave a comrade behind to save myself? The notion was absurd; I would never consider such an option, be it Judeau, Rickert, Pippin, or any other member of the Hawks (maybe Corkus being the exception).
"No! I won't leave without you!" The words came out in a rush; they were spur of the moment, yet surprisingly, I meant them.
"Damn it all!" Coborlwitz growled and turned to his archers. "Aim for the woman! Kill her!"
I took a step back upon hearing the order. My eyes widened in horror as a line of soldiers readied their bows and took aim. Gutts appeared before me instantly, halting the barrage of arrows that seemed to come from every direction. I watched arrows bounce off this armor from behind, and he swatted away a few with his cape before one sunk the flesh of his bicep.
"Gutts... why?" I gasped, reaching out to touch the firm muscle.
"Don't get me wrong," he snapped, snatching his arm away. "Get lost; you're sick and of no use here. I gotta score to settle, and it ain't my nature to run," Gutts continued.
"Like you said, I'm happy as long as I can swing my sword, right?" He said and then turned to look down on me.
He would recall something I spouted in anger months ago.
"You wanna die here?" he asked. "Is this where it ends? You dying in a place like this. Are your dreams - that cheap?"
"A sword returns to its sheath," Gutts stated as he held his in a tight grip. "Go back to the sheath that protects you; go back to Griffith."
So many things went through my mind at that moment. Gutts was right; he was wrong, yet did any of that matter? Yes, it wasn't his nature to run from a fight; No, I didn't want to die, not today and definitely not here. I not only questioned whether Gutts was happy simply swinging his sword but also if I even had a dream of my own. And the biggest question, which I could have answered easily yesterday, yet couldn't now was whether Griffith was the sheath to where I should return.
Time seemed to slow as Gutts ripped off his helmet and tossed it high in the air. The moment the headgear hit the ground, he began a full-scale attack on Chuder's soldiers, single-handedly mowing down the first line in a matter of seconds.
"Hurry!" Gutts shouted. "Run! Get outta here, now!"
I swiftly came to a decision. I gripped my sword, turned, and dashed toward the opening Gutts provided. As he said, I was no good to him in my condition.
"I promise to come back with our comrades!" I threw over my shoulder as I plunged into the woods. "Until then, don't you dare die!"
My feet felt like lead, but I kept moving. I felt a surge through my body that propelled me forward as the sound of clashing blades rang in my ears. Gutts was going all out, but there was only so much one man could do. And what was more daunting, were the footsteps and panting breath of my assailants in pursuit. Was it fear or anxiety that kept my weakened body upright and moving?
"Stay alive, stay alive... alive," I chanted over and over. My legs ached, my stomach cramped, and my heart slammed against my ribcage. I ran as if hell hounds were at my heels; I ran to save Gutts; I ran for the man who was endangering his life to save mine.
In less than a day, I had changed my opinion of a man I once considered an eyesore. Something was developing between Gutts and me. It wasn't a bond, no - not that, not ever. Just two people finally understanding each other and finding common ground. Whatever this was, I had to make sure we were both around to explore it.