MENAGERIE
Ten – In which Red Sonja fights a rather mixed-up opponent
It was a bear; or at least, mostly a bear. It had a bear's body and limbs, and thick black fur; and had it raised itself up on its hind legs it would've been eight feet tall. The nightmarish part, however, was the head. It was that of a monstrous crocodile, jaws slightly agape, revealing dozens of sharp yellow teeth. The creature made a strange sort of gurgling sound and advanced on its visitor.
Sonja turned to face it. She was horrified, but not unduly alarmed. The world contained many powerful and dangerous creatures, but few of them had an answer to three feet of tempered steel.
The creature paused in front of her and issued its gurgling challenge again. Then it did rear up to its full height in an instinctive show of strength. In so doing, it exposed its abdomen to Sonja, who took a step forward and lunged –
- and then realised that things were not going to be as straightforward as she had at first supposed. At the last moment the creature had twisted its huge body aside; and instead of burying her sword to the hilt in its vitals, she had only managed to graze its flesh. She'd drawn blood; but it was no more than a deep scratch.
The creature gave a sort of choked gulp and looked at Sonja; looked her in the eye. With a shock she realised that its eyes were like those of the serpent. Not reptilian, but human; staring at her, evaluating her. Merciful Gods, this creature was not only four times her size and five times as strong, it was also capable of rational thought.
Even so, she still had her sword, which she held firmly in front of her. Come on, she thought; your move. But the creature made no attempt to attack the she-devil. Rather, it backed away slowly.
"What's the matter?" Sonja asked it. "Don't you like the taste of steel?"
Whether the creature understood her or not she never knew; but it suddenly turned and seized a rough wooden table. Its paws were awkward for the task, but when it turned back it had equipped itself with a crude shield.
Now it was Sonja's turn to back away, noting as she did so that (whether by chance or design) the creature was backing her up against a wall with neither doors nor windows.
If in doubt, attack. She took two quick paces forward then leapt high into the air and thrust vigorously. She'd hoped to surprise the creature by striking over the top of its defences; but the creature wasn't so easily fooled. It raised the table, and Sonja's sword struck wood instead of flesh, biting deep.
The creature hurled the table aside. Still embedded in it, Sonja's blade was wrenched out of her hand. She reached for her dagger; then realised with horror that it was still at the bottom of the river where it had been knocked out of her hand by the first of Galud's pets. She wasted half a second cursing herself for such stupidity; and the creature cuffed her back-handed with one of its paws.
The force of the blow lifted her off her feet and sent her sprawling on the floor. Nevertheless, she got the impression that the creature had struck her with less than its full strength. No time to wonder about that. There was a stool by her and she picked it up and threw it at the creature's head – not with any realistic hope of hurting it, but simply to distract it as she dived for her sword.
She never made it. Moving with surprising speed, the creature dropped to all fours and intercepted her as she reached for her blade. She beat at it desperately with her gloved fists, but she might as well have been punching rock. The huge jaws closed around her midriff. She commended her soul to the Gods. She could feel the strength in the creature's jaws; knew they could snap her spine like a twig.
The jaws didn't close. They held her firmly enough so that she kicked and struggled in vain; and here and there she felt that the tip of a tooth had punctured her skin. But she still lived. Erlick's beard, the creature wanted her alive.
Holding its squirming prize in its jaws, the creature made for a corner of the room where a stairway led upwards. The room on the next floor was as cluttered as the one below had been bare. Shelves and tables overflowed with books and rolls of parchment. Scores of candles dribbled and flickered. There were rows and rows of glass jars filled with horrible things the nature of which she dared not guess at.
And in the midst of it all stood a man. He was of slightly less than average height, and could've been aged anywhere from thirty to seventy. He was bald, dressed in a shapeless brown robe, and busy heating something in a small cauldron. He looked up as Sonja was brought in.
"My goodness," he said, approaching her, "what an absolutely splendid specimen."