(5,681 words)
(I draw inspiration for my stories from The Chronicles of Narnia in all it's manifestations, both canon and non-canon.)
(revised)
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia are the intellectual property of Clive Staples Lewis and his legally recognized representatives. We come here just to play in his garden.
Warning: M rated for violence and drug use but mostly to give me some wiggle room.
pages 4-9
The Narnians
"The Lion, the Witch, the Wardrobe and Beyond"
~~~ chapter2 ~~~
"For Narnia"
Tem watching his son scale the cliff face thought to himself, 'He'll make a fine standard bearer for the cause some day if he'd just get past his self-doubts.'
The snow starting to drift down again, Tem tried to act nonchalant strolling over to join Grunram and Kinoe. The caravan captain's pride in his son was legend among the folk of Midway so this subterfuge fooled no one.
"We passed the southbound village resupply train yesterday,' Tem informed them, 'so they're probably on their way back by now. If you like we can rest for awhile at the Inn and then come back as an escort."
Grunram plucking the unlit pipe from his mouth pointed it stem-first at the sleigh, asking. "What chya' hauling this trip Tem."
"Well', the satyr began, 'with early spring arriving folks will be itching to get out and about. Gathering firewood or maybe chopping holes in the thinning ice to do some fishing. You know what that means, cuts and bruises and maybe a few broken bones here an there. We're carrying mostly medical supplies along with some crates of dried fruits and vegetables and a few other sundries this trip."
"I be thanking yea for your offer of help Tem but the folks up in beruna will be needing these supplies far more then I need a bunch of bone-weary renegades galavanting all through these hills," The dwarf assured him.
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Merbos. The fox nodding a greeting to the others was informed of a possible threat from the White Witch's followers. His ears flattened back, Merbos took this news as a quiet condemnation of his considerable tracking skills before he picked up on the relaxed banter passing back and forth between the others.
Tem pointing to the pickax tucked behind the minotaur's belt asked in jest, "Thinking of taking up mining brother?"
Kinoe with a chuckle slapped the tool with his hand. "This? Well you see, we were at the Inn when news of a possible incursion reached us. Our glorious leader here practically dragged me out of the place by the hairs of my chin." Kinoe stopped to rub the back of his hand under his jaw for emphasis. "The only weapons at hand were a stack of pickaxes piled next to the door - "
"I only pressed ye into service as I might have need of a bodyguard," Grunram interrupted. His voice increasing in pitch as he continued. "I did nae expect to be hauled here like a bundle of kindling, all I said was we had ta make all haste crossing the valley."
Merriment ensued as a picture formed in their minds of Kinoe striding over the snow with the infuriated dwarf tucked beneath his arm. His face turning red, Grunram stabbed at the snow with the toe of his boot trying to regain a measure of composure.
It dawned on Tem Grunram carried no weapon and had only his stout leather daywear for protection. The dwarf true to form had put aside thoughts of his own safety in order to bring others a warning of possible danger.
Wishing to spare Grunram any further embarrassment Tem tried steering the conversation in a new direction.
"I had planned to surprise you with two firkin of Anvard whiskey when we reached Midway,' he said with a touch of mirth, 'that just happen to find their way onto my sleigh before we left. I'm guessing the spirits served at the Inn must be pretty watered down by now!"
Grunram looked up, his face beaming. "Sure'n thats mighty thoughtful of you lad."
"O, and here's another little token of esteem from us contrabandists to the gracious host of Midway valley," Tem proclaimed with great fanfare. Fishing round in the script looped over his belt, the satyr pulled out a package he tossed to the village headman.
Grunram's eyes widened into small saucers watching the package arc towards him. Plucking it from the air, the dwarf turned over in his hands a washed-leather pouch. He paused a moment to examine the royal tax stamp of Calormen branded into it's flap. Raising the parcel to his nose Grunram inhaled deeply before letting it out in a long low whistle.
"Fresh cured Calormen tobacco! Sure this be no free-given relief aid,' Grunram breathed. Eyeing the satyr with suspicion he demanded to know. 'iffin ye don't mind me asken, how exactly did a worm poor smuggler come by the coin for such a lavish gratuity."
"No-no, nothing like that,' Tem said with a reassuring wave of his hand. 'Those Archenlandish relief managers love to haggle as much as a dwarf trader does"-
Kinoe, his voice filled with distain, broke in. "Free-Given, it's to laugh. Anvard's the one getting the relief while we pay with our dearest blood keeping the Witch off their backs."
Tem reaching out gently squeezed the minotaur's arm. "Keep good heart brother" He said. Gazing off into some unseen tomorrow, he avowed. "Don't judge them too harshly, Kinoe. If not for Archenland's generosity our dream of a free Narnia probably would have died long ago."
page 5
The minotaur's contempt for Anvard seem to ebb as he listened to Tem speak so respectfully of their neighbors to the south.
Grunram again stabbed the tobacco pouch at Tem demanding to know, "Yes-yes that's all well an grand but how exactly did you come by this!
Tem stammered. "Ah yes,... that, yes - well you see, at the moment Narnian folk art seems to be all the fashion in Anvard. The depot agent down there was more then happy to trade me this,' He said touching the tobacco pouch, 'for a satyr made bow and quiver."
The old dwarf spinning round looked down the ravine to where the sleigh set. "Tem! Not your son's right of passage bow," He gasped.
"Well, the kid cares more about that old short bow it would seem, besides it was just taking up room on the sled so all in all I'd call it a pretty fair trade," Tem with a touch of sadness in his voice said.
"Aye, and iffin he shows the lasses as much attention as he does that horn bow, you'll be a venerated elder before you know it," Grunram contritely noted.
Wishing to spare Tem further unhappiness Grunram held up the pouch of tobacco. "Would the thanks of an old fool who'll probably be spending the rest of his days on this mountain carry much weight with you Tem," He asked.
Tem resting a hand on the dwarf's shoulder replied, "No but it means a lot coming from you old friend - "
Arrow nocked to string, bow drawn taut, palm pressed to cheek all in a blur of motion, Tem sighted over the tip of the arrow. Their attention had been drawn to a scream of rage. He watched through the sight window of the bow his son plummet to the ground followed by a dark gray streak, no, a wolf! Nausea filled Tem watching the wolf land on his son, compressing the youth's chest in a most unnatural way. Tem, in a fatherly way, could feel his own ribs collapsing in a like manner.
The wolf scrambling off Fain rounded for the kill. Tem whispering "NO," released the arrow along with a silent plea for Aslan to guide it true.
His frustration bubbling over Tem watched the arrow kick up snow just in front of it's intended target. A desire for revenge gripping him he cast the bow aside, killing this lackey of the Witch with his own hands was going to be the only way he'd sate his thirst for retribution. Drawing his cutlass from it's scabbard Tem let slide away the mantle of civility and embraced the savage beast within.
Filling his lungs with crisp mountain air, Tem loosed a roar that shook the very stars in the heavens. "Try me, you mangy lap dog!"
The satisfaction of the kill denied him by this new challenge the wolf growled back curtly. "With pleasure, MEAT!"
The distance closing between the two combatants, Tem became aware of a second wolf. This interloper leaping off the ledge his son had just fallen from landed on the snowy ground a few strides behind it's companion.
Tem rushing forward lowered the point of his sword aiming for the heart of his mark. A sudden burst of speed by the satyr just as the wolf lunged impaled the surprised brute on Tem's cutlass clean up to the sword's guard. A wail of misery escaping his lips, the wolf dropped to the ground at Tem's hooves - dead.
The knell of the dying ruffian mustered his troops as several howling wolves detached themselves from their hiding place among boulders littering the base of the gully's west wall.
Skewered on the sword blade, the weight of the dead wolf held fast the cutlass as the satyr tried pulling it free. Tem knew time was running out.
The second wolf attacked before Tem had a chance to recover. Biting down on the bracer of Tem's right wrist the wolf began twisting and turning, tugging and thrusting, thrashing about in a dance of death as it tried to pull down its quarry. The satyr in response to this assault drew his arm along with the lower jaw of his adversary tight against his chest.
The wolf emitted a muffled yelp when Tem hooked a fist against the right side of it's head with so much force he could feel the bone around the wolf's eye socket begin to collapse.
"That was for my son," He whispered.
Looking up to see the white witch's minions nearly upon him, Tem could hear behind him the din and clamber of his approaching companions. Time was growing short.
Tem threw another left hook with so much force it tore the right ear of his adversary nearly all the way off. Blood droplets misting the air the wolf responded to this new assault with a sharp growl and a redoubling of it's efforts to escape. Desperate to be free the wolf frantically clawed at Tem's belly and hips with it's front paws leaving behind long bloody gouges.
"That was for my friends," Tem hissed through the pain.
The executioners had arrived. Time was up.
One last righteous blow broke the jaw of his tormentor. Releasing The dazed thug, Tem glared down contemptuously on the encircling ring of death. Drawing himself up to his full height the satyr took a deep breath and roared defiantly. "And that was - For Narnia!"
The pack fell upon their prey in a frenzy of biting and clawing as Tem, son of Landus, sire of Fain, departed for Aslan's country.
...
Perhaps it was the fatigue of the day's long journey or perhaps it was the pleasure of being in the company of old friends. Perhaps it was a little bit of both that wrapped a blanket of serenity around the little group freezing them into confused inaction when the violence came.
page 6
Grunram was trying to make sense of what was happening. A wolf, friend or foe he had no way of telling, stood over the motionless form of their scout. Tem rushing to his son's side? That question was answered strait away when the smuggler drew sword. Hurling challenges and taunts at one another the combatants crashed together. The agonizing howl that followed proclaimed the winner of the duel just as a second adversary rushed Tem. A baleful proclamation arising from the west revealed the truth to Grunram. The Witch's secret police had found them.
...
Kinoe desperately wanted to join Tem but his first duty was to the leader of Midway valley. Unable to take action he was forced to watch as each new aggressor dared challenge his friend. The rival force fast approaching from the west, all he could think to do was cast pleading eyes down on the dwarf. Grunram staring straight ahead uttered in a monotone voice three words that sliced through the chain binding Kinoe to his oath. "Have... at... um," the dwarf intoned. Tugging the pickaxe from his belt Kinoe charged off towards the bloody battlefield.
...
Merbos was dumbfounded by the events swirling round him. 'How could I've missed so many signs,' he chastised himself.
The old dwarf chose that moment to give the command "Have... at... um," before he lumbered away. Bounding up along side Grunram all the fox could think to say was, "I'm... sorry," self-loathing heavy in his voice. Something then clicked in his head. The wind - the wind. "They had the wind in their favor," Merbos tried to explain through gulps of breath.
"Forget it son," came the old dwarf's sympathetic reply.
A feeling of redemption spreading through him spurred the fox on to greater effort. A plan began taking shape with each stride he took. He would make his way northwest then turn south where he would take up a position on the enemy's northern rear flank. He knew he had little chance against their numbers but using his natural gifts of speed and agility, he would try harrying and confusing them and maybe, just maybe he could draw one or two of them away from the others. 'A satisfactory ruse' he thought.
...
Mosus was brought to his hooves by a shout. Asuls was at his side an instant later.
"That sounds like Fain. Wonder what trouble he's gotten himself into now," Mosus smirked.
"We better go have a look-see, don't you think," Asuls noted.
Pulling their belt knives almost at the same time, the two fauns started up the hill.
...
Cheeks cradled in his paws, Azron sat in the snow watching Fain pick his way along the ledge over head. A cry rang out as the young satyr toppled from the shelf along with another form. Azron's view beyond that point was blocked by a rise in the land so he could not tell what had become of their scout. the badger deciding to investigate further shoved aside the sled's doubletree and set off for the spot where he believed Fain had landed.
'This cant be good' he thought to himself as he started barking commands over his shoulder to the others. "Tobruk with me! Mosus, Asuls this may be a diversion. You two stay with the sleigh."
Azron could see from his new vantage point Tem and what appeared to be a wolf. The two merged together as a howl of pain put a name to the winner. A second wolf attacked Tem straight away but the badger's attention was drawn to the hue and cry coming from the west.
The bear coming up along side him, Azron said, "Tobruk listen to me. What ever happens, I want you to guard elder Grunram. I'll see what I can do for the others."
...
An anguished cry roused Tobruk from his nap. A blow to the ankles from the doubletree as it pivoted round on the sled's tongue brought him full awake and feeling grumpy. A little slow witted, Tobruk had always relied on Azron for guidance so he paused not an instant when Azron bid him follow. Catching up to his sled mate the bear was wise enough to see they were running towards some sort of trouble. Pacing the badger he was instructed to take care of that nice old dwarf Grunram no matter what. Their paths diverging, Tobruk prayed Azron wouldn't take too many chances.
Mosus and Asuls had gone only a few steps when Azron's orders stopped them in their tracks. The sleigh's lead team raced off up the ravine leaving the fauns looking down at their woefully inadequate belt knives.
'"If this is - just... a diversion." They repeated at almost the same instant. Fear began welling up in them but was immediately tamped down by the comforting thought that they were together, brothers in all ways but blood. The stories they bandied about how they would stand together, shoulder to shoulder fighting against overwhelming odds in some epic battle seem eerily prophetic just now.
Hopping up onto the tier of cargo Mosus shaded his eyes with his hand, scanning a full circle.
"See anything noble knight," Asuls quipped.
"Not a battle in sight epic hero," Mosus nervously joked. "No wait I see something. There's a wolf and it looks like the captain's going to engage him in combat," Mosus breathlessly announced.
Asuls turned to look just as their captain's booming challenge fill the air. He felt a thrill watching the wolf fall on Tem's sword. The wail of the dying villain meld with a howl that would stir fear in the hearts of any decent Narnian, The Witch's troops were out for blood! A wolf unnoticed till now attacked their leader in savage hand to jaw combat.
A force of blackguards materialized soon after and fell upon their captain. His dying declaration fill the fauns to overflowing with pride and purpose. Tem's final words had yet to be carried off by the wind when they were renewed by Mosus and Asuls as they set about taunting the filthy malcontents. Their shouts of "For Narnia!" were repeated over and over, longer and louder, in shrill almost fanatical voices.
page 7
The minotaur's heart sank as he realized he was not going to reach his dear friend in time. Tem's final pronouncement instead of waning came back to Kinoe seemingly from every direction at once. he came in that moment to realize he was an outcast no longer. Tem and Midway had redeemed him, had made him part of something bigger. Something beyond his own self-interests. Something worth fighting for. Something that was worth dying for. Yes, he told himself, he would go on fighting for as long as he was able. He'd go on fighting for his Helria, for his friends but most of all he would go on fighting... "For Narnia!"
Making Tem's oath his battle cry Kinoe wade into the maelstrom of frenzied devils where malevolent eyes turned gore smeared muzzles in his direction. The pack's de facto leader making a leap for his throat, Kinoe swung the pickaxe. Impaled clear through the lungs this adversary was swept aside. Fate and the mass of the dying wolf pulled the smooth pick handle from Kinoe's grip. This would prove to be a stroke of good fortune however as it positioned his right arm to fend off the next attack.
Another wolf latching onto his forearm forced Kinoe to use his free hand to support his wrist less the brute pull him off balance. Two more underlings who had been flanking him darted in, biting and twisting they tried to tear off chunks of thick hair and tough flesh in an effort to disembowel their quarry. A fourth member of the pack circled around behind leaping on the minotaur's back. Their combined weight succeeded in dragging Kinoe down under a riving blanket of death.
...
Grunram felt crestfallen by the sight he beheld. Tem whom he treasured like a son was hacking and clawing his way towards the person he cherish most in all the world. A sudden desire to flee the witch's servants nearly overwhelmed the old dwarf making him feel old and tired, tired and ashamed, ashamed and angry with himself. Mostly he was just tired of being afraid of Her.
'Well, he was done hiding and he was done cowering,' he thought to himself. He had to admit casting off his fears and doubts was a liberating experience. 'All in all it had been a pretty good life.'
The dwarf felt he had no right to ask his companions to put themselves in jeopardy so when he gave the command, "Have... at... um." The words he spoke with so little emotion were directed mostly towards himself.
Lumbering towards the battle the old chieftain of Midway Village glared at the approaching mob. One of the brutes raced ahead of the main body aiming directly at him. His date with destiny fast approaching he became aware of Merbos at his side seemingly begging forgiveness, as if all this was somehow his fault. Grunram's attention was focused else where so all he managed to get out was "Forget it son " and before he knew it, the fox was gone.
The dwarf reached the point he figured he would engage his opponent. Skidding to a stop at the last second as was his plan, Grunram back peddled in a burst of unanticipated speed that left the wolf biting at empty space. He aimed the cuff of his leather tunic at the wolf's face as the brut lunged again. A twitch of it's head and the wolf bit down on the dwarf's less protected upper forearm and got quite a shock!
"That be the gnarled old root of a dwarf's arm' he sneered, 'not some plump field bunny... pup."
The carnivore rocking its head and jaw back and forth tried to bore through Grunram's tuff flesh. Pain shot up the headman's arm just as Tem's oath fill the air. The dwarf, almost selfishly implored the great lion to allow his friend a few more seconds in this world so Tem might know his dream lived on.
Grabbing a fistful of scruff from the wolf's throat with his free hand, Grunram added his voice to the rising chorus. "Aye lad - For Narnia!" he shouted.
The gray-haired old dwarf surprised the wolf by spitting in it's eye, startling it so much it loosened it's grip. Grunram used the opportunity to jam his wrist still farther into the wolf's mouth. This action triggered a reflexive gag in the wolf causing it to open it's mouth even wider and again the dwarf shoved his arm in even deeper. The two combatants, twisting and turning, found themselves locked in a tug of war to the death.
Merbos reached the spot he had planned to launch his assault from but hesitated at the sight of the wolf pack arraying itself around Tem. Mounting his assault anyway the fox charged into the throng from the northwest. Dodging through the forest of legs he nipped and clawed here and there at every opportunity.
Tem's invocation reached his ears just before the forest of limbs collapsed in an avalanche of thrusting bodies that threatened to bury him. Breaching the southwest corner of the free for all Merbos turned to watch as his captain disappeared under a blanket of fir.
He felt his soul being gripped as if some unseen force was trying to crush it. Merbos sharp bark of - "For Narnia!" mingled with his comrades in a final salute to the most honorable smuggler he ever worked with.
Merbos the master tracker, Merbos the arrogant, Merbos the outsider was no more. Consumed in a fire that produced no heat, leaving behind unseen ashes that were scattered by an unfelt breeze. Rising up in their stead was Merbos the humbled. Merbos the tool, Merbos the arrow. A tool to repair an injustice. An arrow, one of many arrows drawn taut, hoping for the chance to take down a tyrant.
Merbos the arrow galloped north a short distance before pivoting to face the opposition. Two malefactors at the edge of the pack showed some interest in him. The larger one of the two turned it's attention back to the vivisecting of it's trophy.
The smaller of the two slinking towards him said in an undeniably female voice. "So, the glory of this kill goes - to me".
Merbos Cocked his head regarding her with mock adoration. "Tis' a pity such an attractive fruit does possess such a venal stone - Wench," He jeered.
Experience had taught Merbos that most creatures of Narnia favor their right side so the fox dodged to her left. He had guessed correctly. Confused, she pivoted to follow him spiraling in closer with each step. Stopping dangerously close to that toothy maw, Merbos danced left and right, forward and back trying to keep the villainess occupied. Stepping on a patch of ice hidden under the snow, his hind quarters twisted out from under him. Merbos hit the ground hard as she bounded in to stand triumphantly over him. He was caught.
The bear climbing the hill in search of the elderly dwarf, as he had been instructed was touched by the words of his kindhearted captain making him feel... happy. "Yep", Tobruk had to agree. In a deep rumbling voice that threatened to dislodge the snow blanketing the nearby pine trees, the bear lent his voice to the others around him with a roar of - "For Narnia." Tobruk feeling enraptured resumed his search for that nice old dwarf elder Grunram.
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Azron watched the minotaur charge across the snow trying to reach Tem. The Satyr's final call to duty filled his ears, squeezing his heart like a hand. He could not have resisted swearing the oath his dying friend held so dear even if he wanted to and he did not. Azron joining the others raised his voice in a heart felt salute of - "For Narnia!"
The badger pausing to survey the battle field realized Kinoe was out numbered. He was sure though the shaggy great mountain would comport himself valiantly in the time he had left. His mind racing, Azron tried coming up with some sort of plan to help them all out of this mess. Their best hope as he saw it was to adopt the enemy's strategy of ganging up on one opponent at a time.
Gauging their position, he counted on Kinoe to take down one or two before he'd succumb. The ancient dwarf was probably spent by now but you can never be sure with dwarves. This left Tobruk as their last rallying point. He had no doubt the fox would be more then happy to spread confusion among the enemy's ranks. This would leave only Mosus and Asuls to fall back on. The two in the past had proven themselves in encounters with brigands but if the battle got that far they'd probably be on their own anyway.
Azron's mood brightened a little when he saw Merbos draw one of the invaders away from the main body. Skirting the primary engagement he was hoping to reach the fox and try this new strategy. His plan began to unravel when the minotaur went down. Next Merbos appeared to slip on some ice, the wolf hovering over him ready to pounce.
"Aslan help us," Azron gasped.
Grunram cursing his advanced years, huffed. "Iffin I'd a been a few seasons younger wolfy, you'd be hash by now!"
The contest was smothered by a blanket of fir as massive bear arms wrapped around each opponent. Grunram hugged to his chest, Tobruk stood to his full height then dropped down slamming the wolf into the frozen blanket of snow. The dwarf, his arm freed by the impact, was tossed aside by the bear to land on the seat of his britches with a grunt.
Tobruk raking a claw crowned paw along the semiconscious wolf's head slough off skin and muscle down to the bone. Rearing back, the bear drove a balled up fist into the glistening white skull of the wolf. The ensuing explosion of bone fragments and brain matter cast a fan like pattern out across the frozen snow.
Shaking the gore from his paw, Tobruk turned his attention back to elder Grunram. The dwarf struggling to his feet planned on rejoining the battle but found his way blocked by the bear. First to the right then to the left the dwarf tried to dodge around Tobruk only to be met each time by large paws.
Sputtering curses the old chieftain commanded. "Let me by, ya big ox. Can ye not see they need me help!"
Allowing the exhausted dwarf to pass, Tobruk quickly spun and scooped up the feisty little warrior.
Pressing Grunram to his chest the bear settled lightly to the ground saying. "Azron told me I got to protect you."
The fight gone out of him Grunram could only manage a sigh as he and Tobruk became spectators to the unfolding tragedy.
The She-devil towering victoriously over Merbos inquired with sham concern. "Have nothing more to say my dear?"
Casting desperate glances left and right, Merbos returned to gaze deeply into her eyes. "Care to dance," he asked just before she was swept from his sight.
Azron crashed broadside into the villainess sending them both tumbling over the snowy ground in a ball of fir, fang and claws. Coming to rest the badger found himself sprawled on his back prone for the wolf's next attack. The beldame seizing the opportunity bit down on Azron's left hind foot tearing flesh and crushing bone.
Azron blind with pain stabbed powerful front paws into the soft underbelly of his tormentor. Piercing through flesh with wickedly sharp claws he rend open the belly of the she-wolf spilling her guts, along with her life onto the snows of midway valley.
Merbos arriving hooked paws under the badger's front legs trying to pull Azron free of the still twitching corpse. Venting a savage growl the badger used his one good foot to pedal free of his burden.
His head coming to rest in the fox's lap, their eyes met. "Thank you my friend but its best if you go now. Seek out Tobruk, he's your best chance," Azron said to him.
"You pulled my chestnuts out of the fire back there so now it's time to settle the butcher's bill and please, don't tell me to leave you here," The fox said as he tried lifting Azron to his feet.
"Get up, you can lean on me," The fox pleaded.
Azron patted the smaller paw resting on his shoulder. "Your a good friend Merbos but I'm done, besides I'd just be putting you and the others in more danger. Go now, I'm as good as dead anyway."
Standing, the fox rounded the badger and started tugging on Azron's wrist, imploring him. "Come on get up, we can do this."
Looking over at the dead she-wolf and the near by pile of writhing thugs, the fox had an idea.
page 9
Leniently pressing the back of the badger's paw to his chest, Merbos asked. "How'd you like another go at them, Azron?"
Puzzled, Azron asked. "How?"
"You play dead, see and I'll try to get some of them to chase me back here then we'll show them a jolly old time. What a you think," the fox asked, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"A fine plan Merbos, you'd have made a splendid general. For Narnia," he asked.
"And for Fain and Tem too," Merbos said with a nod.
Violence for the second time this day caught them off guard. The remnant of the wolf pack, getting in each others way was in fact doing little real damage to the minotaur.
Under the pile of chaos Kinoe with a touch of gallows humor thought. 'I've got them right where they want me.
The minotaur issuing a throaty roar launched himself skyward scattering the pack every which way. The brute still dangling from his wrist became the focus of his irk. Pinching the fingers of his left hand together he drove it like a spearpoint into the wolf's belly just below the sternum then forced it up through the wolf's diaphragm into it's chest where he clutched at hart and lungs.
The mortally wounded foe releasing it's grip on Kinoe's wrist slid off the minotaur's other, blood soaked arm. Crumpling to the ground at his hooves the dying lump of flesh and bone struggled to draw breath that would never come again.
The two flankers returned trying once again to disembowel their pray. This time he seized them by the scruff on the back of their necks and yanked the knaves up to shoulder level. Displaying an adrenaline fueled strength that surprised even himself, Kinoe bashed the two brigands together in a neck snapping, skull crushing impact.
The back-biter of the group having recovered it's wits returned to try this time to hamstring the minotaur. Kinoe's left hoof kicking back reflexively caught the unprepared dastard under the chin knocking it senseless. Releasing the two dead-weights the minotaur launched himself into the air. Coming down toes first, he stabbed into the wolf's chest and belly sinking up to his fetlocks in blood and bile. Stepping out of the cruor Kinoe, still half blind with rage, looked around for his next opponent.
The battle was over. The foe had been bested but no one cheered or felt victorious just bloody, bruised, exhausted and thankful to Aslan they were still alive.