Dragon's Blood -- Chapter Two
Author's Notes: Not much. :grabs sword: Onwards, men! Tally-hooo!!!
Disclaimer: Notta thing.
After about an hour of running, the moon was high in the sky, and Iolaus couldn't believe he was the only one following this gleaming trail of silver blood. Surely the group of hunters had to have seen it…
In the silence of the night, Iolaus heard a twig or branch snap loudly. He stopped and turned, scanning what he could in the darkness (which wasn't much). Satisfied for the moment, he began to run again.
The blonde hadn't gone more than a few steps when he heard another branch break, louder this time. Iolaus turned and looked around again.
'Someone is here,' thought Iolaus; he bent to retrieve the knife from his boot, completely forgetting about the sword sticking out oif his leather travelling pack.
On his way back up, something hard cracked across the back of his skull and Iolaus saw stars. Instinctively, the hunter's arm shot out behind him and he slashed with the knife. Someone grunted, then hot blood washed over his hand.
"Sonnuva bacchae!" another voice yelled, "He killed 'im without a thought!"
Iolaus blinked hard to clear his vision. He took a couple steps back while the rest of them were still stunned about their fallen comrade. He managed to count eight guys, including the one on the ground, holding a bleeding gut.
'Nine guys,' he amended, buckling when something mashed into his right side. He fell to his knees, gasping and holding his ribs.
"Cheap shot…! Attacking from behind!" he panted.
He feigned being dizzy and leaned forward, bracing himself with his right hand flat on the ground. Iolaus stay there for a moment, letting it all sink in. Then he threw himself into a backwards donkey-kick. His left foot connected with what felt like a kneecap and he felt it crack. The guy howled and was on the ground. A club thudded to the dirt next to him.
Two guys hauled him to his feet by his shoulders, relieved him of his pack and made him face one of the ugliest, smelliest men Iolaus had ever laid eyes on.
He stood about three heads taller than Iolaus and was wearing the most armor. The man smiled, baring crooked, yellow-and-brown teeth. He stepped closer. He pulled his arm back and let a punch fly straight at Iolaus' nose. Blood began to gush from it almost immediately.
"Why are you tracking our dragon, boy?" he demanded, yanking his head back by the hair so that Iolaus was forced to look up through watering eyes.
"Who says it's your dragon?" spit Iolaus, spraying the leader with scarlet.
That little comment earned him a hard knee to the stomach from one of the guys holding him. He doubled over, trying to breathe through the pain in his stomach and the pain in his chest.
"I say it's our dragon, you little piece of dung," the obvious leader hissed, yanking Iolaus' head back up. His face was close to Iolaus' and his breath made him want to puke. But that 'little' comment was the last straw.
"Okay, that does it."
Iolaus launched himself into a back-flip, using the guys holding him as leverage. His boot heel caught the leader's head and everyone heard a loud 'SNAP!'.
Once he landed, Iolaus grasped a handful of each man's armor and yanked down with all his weight, smashing their heads together. All three men hit the ground at the same time, unconscious.
The other five looked at each other, then at the blonde warrior standing in the center of four sprawled out bodies. They looked at each other again. For a moment, Iolaus believed they would run.
Then they all smiled that same menacing smile.
'Never fails,' he thought, bracing himself.
A split second later, they all roared as one and charged at him. The first guy swung a club over his head, which was easily dodged and used against him as it thudded against his greasy scalp. He was then slammed to the ground with another backwards kick as he went by.
Two came at him at the same time, slashing wildly with swords, one of which he recognized as his own. Iolaus ducked underneath them and feinted right. The one on the left spun around and swung his rusty blade so widely, his buddy in front of Iolaus had to block the blow.
Iolaus reached over the man's shoulder and grabbed his hand, finally gaining control of his own sword. The blonde blocked another blow from below, then ducked under an overhead jab, taking his human shield with him. Iolaus jerked the sword away and jabbed it into the other swordsman's gut. He drove an elbow to his shield's head while he was still bent over, dropping him to the ground next to the other groaning man.
Something pinched his left leg hard, making him swear. He went to brush it off, and his hand hit something hard. Iolaus looked down and saw a crossbow bolt sticking out of the leather of his pants; it was embedded in the flesh below the back of his knee.
He gritted his teeth, took hold of the bolt as close as he could to the head and yanked it out. He choked back a strangled sounding yell and spun around with fire in his eyes as he looked for the shooter.
There. Abut fifteen paces to his left, the guy was fumbling to reload the crossbow.
Quicker than the eye could follow, Iolaus flicked his knife up and sent it shooting into the bowman's throat, as deadly and as accurately as any bow the hunter ever shot. The last guy gurgled as he fell, and the partially prepared crossbow clattered as the string snapped loose.
'Finally,' thought Iolaus, going down on one knee, panting. 'Now to find that dragon.'
He glanced around the area until he located the things the men had taken from him. Iolaus gathered them up, sutffed them back into his bag, slung it over his shoulders and was off.
Author's Notes: I am fucking proud of this fight. And that knife throw was just S.E.X.Y. I saw that in my mind so clearly.. Lol. Review please!