WOLVERINE'S WORLD: THE GRIMM AND THE GREEN BASTARD
At the riverbank, I sat cross-legged for some time, contemplating the river. My pack was on the ground next to me, with my staff propped up next to it.
Eventually, I saw a strange, swirling disturbance in the river. The color of the disturbed water was oddly green. It lasted for several minutes before dispersing, leaving a long trail of froth that drifted downstream.
That was enough. I clambered to my feet. Emma and Rahne were waiting nearby. The people of Alban were giving us a wide berth, but several locals were watching from a discreet distance.
"Where are we going, sir?" Emma asked.
"Downstream," I said.
"What's there?" Rahne chimed in. She looked puzzled... but also eager to get going.
"We'll know when we find it," I replied. That was the best answer.
Emma accepted that without any reaction. Rahne obviously wasn't sure what to make of what I'd said.
Emma was haggling with a riverboat captain. Not surprisingly, she seemed to be doing a pretty good job.
"Sir?" Rahne asked as we watched Emma rake the captain over the coals.
"What?" I responded absently. I was still looking around for signs. That is, after all, what I do. And as a result, that often makes me seem distant and distracted.
"Am I supposed to have sex with you?" Rahne asked tensely. Her blue eyes seemed more than a little worried.
I did my best to hide a smile. "Not right now," I told her. "There are a lot of people around. At my age a man doesn't like to show his body in public."
Rahne took a long moment to absorb what I'd said before responding. She didn't seem to realize that she was being teased.
"But later..." she continued hesitantly.
"No, Rahne," I said gently. "That will not happen."
"Oh," she said in obvious relief.
Then she frowned. "Wait... why not?" she demanded.
My father used to say that with women there are frequently no correct answers. Time has proved him to be a wise and perceptive man.
"You're too young for someone my age," I explained.
Rahne's frown got deeper as she unconsciously ran her hands over the front of her tunic. She was a bit underdeveloped there.
"I'm sixteen!" she said defensively.
I shook my head. "That's not true."
"Fifteen?"
"You're still lying, Rahne. I can see it in your eyes."
"Will you be sleeping with her?" Rahne demanded, suddenly glaring in Emma's direction.
"I imagine so," I said after a moment of thought. If I had to make a guess, Emma would probably want to keep to her role of a dutiful Folk servant.
"I don't understand why the priestess wants her to go with us," Rahne persisted.
Actually, that was a good question.
"Priestess Dare didn't bother to share that information with me," I responded truthfully. Of course, I could make a good guess. Rahne - and her crimes - were well known by now. Emma was staying close to Rahne in order to see if any other heretics approached her.
Emma walked back to us, a slightly triumphant look on her face. The captain looked a bit dazed. Emma was putting change back in the pouch of silver that Dare had given us.
"I see you left the man his trousers," I told Emma dryly.
"They were too big for me," Emma replied with a shrug as she tucked the pouch of silver away in her belt. Emma was carrying it for me.
"Will you be sleeping with him?" Rahne asked - well, demanded - as she pointed an almost accusing finger at me.
Emma didn't even blink. "Why, yes, young mistress. And I'm looking forward to it. It's a shame you're too young to join us."
Rahne was obviously unsure how to respond. She gave us both an inscrutable look and wandered away to the end of the dock. Our packs were piled there. She easily hefted them and carried them aboard the boat.
A smile appeared on Emma's fact and then carefully vanished.
We left Alban an hour later and began meandering our way downstream. A dozen Blood and Folk strained at the oars. The captain manned the tiller. There were no other passengers. Emma, Rahne, and I kept to our place at the fore of the boat, underneath a tarp that had been rigged so we would have some shade.
We drifted past the old city center of the ancient city of Albany. The cyclopean ruins of the giant towers were all that was left. They were acrawl with vegetation and home to legions of birds.
A few miles past the ruins, we were hailed from an isolated wooden pier. On it, a large and bulky figure waved at us.
The captain chose to dock. And our boat gained another passenger.
He was a Grimm.
"It's an honor to meet a Seeker of the Old One's will," a deep voice rumbled as a stony, orange, three-fingered hand was offered to me.
I shook the Grimm's hand. It was like sticking my hand into an oddly warm and lively block of granite. I had the impression that the Grimm was being quite careful in order to not crush me.
"My name is James," I responded.
"I'm Abraham," the Grimm returned as he released my hand.
Abraham was a good seven feet tall and probably weighed over five hundred pounds. He looked like a small mountain of ambulatory orange rock. The most human-appearing part of him was a pair of brown eyes that were bright with intelligence. His only clothing was a huge pair of buckskin pants and a broad belt. He was carrying a large satchel.
There aren't many Grimms and they live almost entirely in and near Nyack. They are a quiet people who make a living by doing jobs that require immense strength. Generally, they keep to themselves and wise men know that they should be left alone. They are Scatter - people of the Folk who have powers. Many Scatter attempt to pass themselves off as Wilder, since Wilder are more accepted by Blood society. Grimms have always scorned that sort of thing.
As was only correct, Abraham didn't acknowledge Emma and Rahne, or even look in their direction. They were with me and I would introduce them if I wished.
Emma kept her eyes down. Rahne was staring in awed amazement.
Emma gently touched Rahne on the shoulder. Rahne suddenly realized that she was being rude and looked away.
"What brings a Grimm this far upriver?" I asked curiously.
Abraham smiled as he sat down with a solid thump. His back scraped up against the boat railing, peeling away slivers of wood.
"I'm hunting," he said easily.
Abraham wasn't carrying a weapon. Nor did he have furs or any other trophies with him.
"May your hunt find success," I replied politely.
Abraham and I passed the hours in conversation. He was knowledgeable about Nyack and particularly enjoyed talking about the politics of the city. There was a controversial new proposal to renovate the dock facilities with public funds. It struck me as just another case of the rich using everyone else's money to expand their own wealth, but Abraham was of the opinion that it would also ultimately benefit the common citizens of Nyack.
As evening descended into night, our boat anchored at a gap between the shore and a brush-covered sandbar. Some of the brush near the tip of the sandbar had been cleared away and - judging from the old fire-pits dug into the cleared area - it was often used as a stopping place for river traffic.
The crew of the riverboat cooked dinner ashore and unhesitatingly shared with us. It was smoked fish accompanied by a spicy grain and vegetable stew.
Everyone eventually went to sleep - except for a single Blood crewman who was on watch. The crew of the boat slept on or near their rowing benches. The captain went below deck and bunked with his cargo. We passengers kept to our place at the fore of the boat.
Abraham became a softly-snoring mountain range. Rahne curled up like a boneless cat in a space between two barrels. Emma lay next to me and spread a blanket over both of us.
I watched the moon rise as Emma vanished under our blanket and used her hands and mouth to entertain me - anything more strenuous would have been rude to the other people on the boat. The crewman on watch politely pretended that nothing was happening. Abraham's snoring continued unabated. Rahne's eyes glittered in the darkness as she disapprovingly studied what we were doing. Then she rolled over, firmly presenting her back to us.
When I was done with Emma - or perhaps it was the other way around - she curled up next to me, her head on my shoulder and a slim hand on my chest.
*Abraham is obviously not telling the truth,* she 'said' to me telepathically.
*Did you read his mind?* I thought back.
*Not yet. Do you wish me to?*
I shook my head. *Don't bother. He is no threat to us.*
Emma considered that for a while before replying. *I can sense he isn't hostile, but...*
"Go to sleep, Emma," I whispered aloud to her.
She did just that.
A few hours later, a battle broke out.
There was yelled warning from the crewman on watch. That was followed almost immediately by a terrific crash. The entire riverboat rocked from the impact as a loud, challenging, roar howled through the night.
I lunged to my feet. Abraham did the same, albeit slower and more ponderously. Emma sputtered curses as she rolled away - putting some distance between herself and whatever was happening amidships. Rahne leaped onto the wooden railing and crouched there like a gargoyle, the claws of her hands and feet extended as she tried to make out what was happening.
In the mid-section of the boat, where the crew had been sleeping, a savage melee had erupted.
Bone claws gleamed white in the moonlight. Folk boatmen were using oars as improvised polearms. A massive green form - even bigger than Abraham - loomed above them all, swatting at those surrounding it. As I watched, a Folk rower was caught by a powerful backhand. I heard bones break from the impact before he was knocked into a long arc that ended with a splash in the river.
Even if he was still alive, I doubted that he would be able to make it to shore.
"ABRAHAM!" screamed the green invader. It was so loud, that in the aftermath my ears were ringing.
Abraham's return roar was inarticulate, but just as angry.
I knew what had attacked us.
We were in trouble.
It was a Green Bastard.
"GONNA KILL YOU, ABRAHAM!" the creature roared as it waded through the Blood and Folk who were trying to fight it.
Green Bastards are a product of the deranged time when the Folk ruled the Earth. The Folk's experiments with perverted science had a habit of ending badly. The traditions say that the first Green Bastard came into existence when an attempt by Folk scientists to create a great bomb went awry. Others were created later. Eventually, there was enough of them to form a breeding population.
They are stupid, incredible powerful, and almost always angry. After the Creed, they are the second great racial enemy of the Blood.
I vaulted from the fore of the boat to the lower deck of the midsection. Abraham went down a low flight of wooden stairs - charging straight towards the Green Bastard. Rahne balanced along the railing, putting one foot in front of the other as she moved quickly and precisely to outflank our foe.
The Green Bastard was still screaming his hatred at Abraham when the two collided mightily. The impact rocked the boat again and knocked everyone else away. I almost went overboard. Rahne somehow managed to keep to her precarious position on the railing - I don't know how.
Abraham and the Green Bastard began throwing punches. Abraham was controlled and precise - looking for weak spots and openings. I could tell he was a practitioner of the old Folk martial-art of boxing. The Green Bastard, on the other hand, was wild and raging. Both were scoring on each other.
Scrambling back onto my feet, I came at the Green Bastard from the side. My claws snikted out and I raked the Green Bastard across the side of his face, slicing off his ear.
I dodged a wild backhand and struck for the exposed chest, but my claws skittered along the creature's thick ribs and couldn't find the purchase to plunge deeper. Rahne hopped down to the deck and circled behind our target - her hand and foot claws becoming a wild blur. Abraham found an opening and smashed a fist into the Green Bastard's face, staggering it. Some crewmen who'd been knocked down before were back on their feet and rushing back into the fight.
Green blood flew. It burned where it touched me and seemed to sizzle when it hit the wooden deck.
With a howl of pain and anger, the Green Bastard slammed his hands together. The resulting shockwave knocked everyone down.
Everyone except Abraham. He was just as immobile as he looked.
I smashed against some cargo crates that were piled up on the deck. I couldn't see Rahne anywhere. I hoped Emma had jumped to shore and was running as fast as she could.
Abraham and the Green Bastard were still hammering at each other. I saw an opening and went for it.
My claws ripped open the back of the Green Bastard's right knee, ham-stringing him. He collapsed to the deck and Abraham was almost immediately on him, raining blows down on his foe that were so powerful that the deck began to splinter to pieces beneath them.
I tried to go for the Green Bastard's eyes, but was clipped by a flailing arm. I went flying again and everything went gray and red when I hit.
As I came to my senses, I saw Abraham and the Green Bastard vanish under a pile of enraged Blood crewmen. I staggered to my feet and limped painfully back to the fight.
I was almost there when the Green Bastard made a supreme effort. Bodies went flying as he pushed up onto his knees and swung his arms wildly. He and Abraham grappled, their powerful hands tearing at each other. Abraham was obviously the worse off of the two. Blood - red and normal - was flowing from multiple places on his body. Chunks of his rock-like hide had been peeled away.
Then the Green Bastard got his good leg underneath his body and tensed to jump away.
Lunging wildly towards the two enemies, I tried to yell a warning to Abraham. But I knew I wouldn't be able to get there in time. If the Green Bastard carried Abraham away, he would be able to kill the wounded Grimm at his leisure.
But it never happened. Suddenly, a strange, shocked look appeared on the Green Bastard's face. Then he stopped fighting and his mouth fell open as he slowly collapsed onto his backside. He still had Abraham in a death grip, but he wasn't struggling any longer. Abraham broke free, staggered back a few steps and then fell onto his back.
Rahne, dripping wet from a plunge in the river, was on the other side of the now-still Green Bastard. With a disgusted hiss, she yanked loose the single claw that she had driven through the creature's ear and into his brain.
The captain was trying to get his boat in order. His rattled crew responded to his orders, beginning the process of repairs and reorganization.
Rahne was standing with her back to the railing, her eyes on the dead monster. I could tell that she was in the awesome presence of her first kill. It was a moment that demanded solitude.
I was kneeling next to Abraham. He obviously wasn't going to survive and somebody had be with him on his way to whatever lies beyond this life.
"Is it dead?" he whispered to me.
"Yes," I answered.
Then Abraham smiled crookedly at me. "It was mad. It killed for sport - all up and down the coast. Dozens of innocent people died. I left home to hunt it down. I chased it here."
"Why did you go after it?" I asked.
"An ancestor came to me in a dream," Abraham whispered so low that I could barely hear what he was trying to say.
"I understand," I said. Far better than most, I know that dreams have meaning. And that when the ancestors demand our service, we are obliged to obey.
Abraham's eyes began to glaze - the end was near. "He said I wouldn't be able to kill it on my own. He said I would need help."
"He was correct," I replied. "But we wouldn't have got him without you. You have served your ancestors well, Abraham."
And then Abraham was gone. I don't know if he heard my last words. I hope he did.
We threw the body of the Green Bastard into the river. It drifted off with the current, looking strangely small as it floated away into the dark.
Two of the Folk oarsmen were dead. One's head had been crushed. We searched for the one who'd been thrown into the river, but couldn't find him.
Another Folk rower was badly injured. He huddled in the aft of the boat, his body curled around a multitude of broken bones. Some of his friends were trying to help him with the medicines of the Folk, but I didn't give much for his chances. The Folk are a terribly fragile people.
All of the Blood were, of course, fine. The great gift of the Old One was with us all. Any injuries we had received during the fight were either already gone or well on their way to being healed.
When morning came, the boatmen buried their Folk comrade respectfully, just a few yards from the river bank, on a small rise that had a view of the river. They were unsure what to do with Abraham - his body was so unwieldy. They were about to settle the issue by also throwing him into the river when I intervened.
A reminder that Abraham had fought beside us - and fought well - was all it took.
"The day that is not respected by the Blood, we will no longer be the Blood," I told them. They all nodded in solemn agreement.
Some of the crew helped us drag Abraham off the boat and into a rocky outcrop. There, we piled stones around his body. Then I asked the boatmen to leave us.
I carved a six-pointed star on the largest of the stones covering Abraham's body. Emma and Rahne looked puzzled, but didn't ask me to explain. Actually, it's a symbol of a very old faith - most of the Grimm I've met have been adherents.
"Are you willing?" I asked Emma.
She understood that I was asking for the final ritual of the funeral of a Blood male. Some would say that such a thing done for one of the Folk was an offense to the divine. I suppose that many priestesses of the temple would have refused my request.
Emma nodded without hesitation. "Of course. He was a brave man."
I was beginning to get the measure of Emma. There was much about her that a man could admire.
I turned to Rahne. "Emma and I need privacy."
Rahne knew what was about to happen. She nodded and vanished into the trees.
Emma and I cleared a spot next to Abraham's simple grave. Then we made love there.
It was a particularly intense. Emma's final scream was born both of pleasure, mourning, and wild defiance. She gave life a voice in the presence of death. When we were done, Emma knelt naked in the dust and said a heart-felt prayer to the Lady of Fire, asking her to protect and guard Abraham's spirit as it left our world.
"Thank you," I said when she was done. I meant that as much as I have ever meant anything.
Emma nodded, and then took my hand in hers. Somehow, that seemed more intimate than the sex we had just shared.
"I tried to help," she said sadly. "But it didn't seemed to matter... the creature just kept fighting. Its mind was so crazed that I couldn't get inside."
"There was nothing you could do," I told her quietly. "This was all decided beforehand. Abraham and the monster were going to die. Nothing could change that."
Emma gave me a puzzled look, "What do you mean?"
I smiled sadly as I remembered an ancient war-cry that is only mentioned in the oldest of the traditions. Yet I suspected that Abraham would have known it.
"It was clobbering time," I told Emma.