Kile

Tony Fogarty

It really was a bitch of a day.

Kile picked his way across the creekbed, trying to saty under cover as much as he could. He avioded the little rocks, preferring the larger ones which suported his weight better. And that were less likely to get caught between his toes. He scamperd up the far bank, and just before he reached the top of the slope, he stopped and peered over the edge to see a roadway. Well, a pathway really.

All the roads were slowly falling into disrepair since the Romans had left. Most of the brickettes had been stolen to supplement their building supplies, and the signs and distance markers had been removd or vandalised. Funny that, thought Kile, the vandals were a bunch of rabid, disorganised criminals terrorising the lands of the Teutonic Tribes, yet their reputation had reached these shores.

He was about to put his head out past the relative obscurity of the roadside vegetation when the sound of thunder from the road right in front of him made him freeze in mid breath. He could be a chameleon when he needed to be. A squad of armed riders blurred past him and continued up the road, leaving him to complete his breath with dust laden air. He coughed, gagged and coughed again.

It was really bitchy today.

He relaxed enough to lower himself even closer to the ground. He stretched out to look in each direction of this major route. It carried alot of traffic, and he didn't like surprises. He was too old for surprises. He looked to the left down the road to the East - all clear, and to the right the riders had cleared his view. He stood, and took a step onto the road.....pathway.

'Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii..' The high pitched scream tore through the still morning air. It came from the East. Kile crouched down defensively on the road verge, spun to his left and prepared to defend himself from a manic shrub. He was still predominantly behind the vegetation, but he had been seen. Dammit!! Thoughts cascaded across his mind.H e had looked. It was clear.

Damn this was a bitchy bitch of a day!

OK Kile, he thought to himself, what are you going to do next. Tactics, he thought, where is the threat? What is the threat? He had been surprised and the threat was far from obvious. He was well hidden, so he chanced his neck and very slowly put his head on the block, or so it seemed, and looked down the path.

The source of the shrill scream was a woman sitting on a cart, that was partly obscured by a tree it was attempting to pass. She had ceased to scream, though her face was still going throught he motions, and a strangled gurgle reached kiles sensitive ears. Beside the screamer, was another woman. She had infinitely more dignity, and sat quietly, and with the aloof demeanour of one in control. Kile decided she was important, she got to ride in a cart and she had a small retinue of servants.

He almost relaxed again seeing no obvious danger - but, he thought, that was strange. Almost as soon as he sensed it, he was conscious of the lack of guards. Armed horsemen should not be too far away, but he could not se any. He was immediately on guard again and he quickly surveyed all he could see. This was very, very strange. He eased his body back over the edgeof the bank, to hide himself further.

This bitch of a day was not improving.

Kile rested his head on the soft earth of the bank and listened. He could hear voices - perhaps the Lady's servants - and she was definitely a Lady, were getting themselves orgainsed. The voices though were raised, they held a note of panic.

He felt it first. Through his chin, through the soft dirt the tremour was barely perceptible, but it was getting stronger, so it was getting closer. The cadence of multiple impacts with the turf caused by horses galloping. They were still a couple of hundred yards away, but now he could hear them. The din of their hooves, the jangle and clatter of their bridles and saddles. He lifted his head and saw a group of a dozen well armed riders, the same group that had passed him not ten minutes ago, descend upon the caravan. He watched as the horsemen surrounded the Lady's wagon, as well they should, and he waited for the accusing finger to be pointed in his direction.

Kile figured he was good for six to eight of these goons in black. But a dozen. Hmmm, he pondered. He looked on, and his ponder changed to blank surprise as he saw the riders, as one, raise their swords, and slash down at the servants of the Lady. They died as one, ten servants fell tothe ground without a sound. The Lady sat in her cart as the head of the screamer tumbled to the ground, followed soon after by the torso.

Kile considered what he had just witnessed. These were not the Lady's guards. The ease of their dispatch of the servants however, did suggest a degree of familiarity. Perhaps they were her guards turned by the large wealth that would be gained by her ransom, or perhaps she had her dowry in the rear of that cart. He watched as a horseman dismounted from his black beast, his blacl leather bodice reflecting no light in the afternnon sun. As his hand released the reins of his mount, the horse fell to the ground in a mess of bones and decaying flesh. Kile's nose was immediately assaulted by the acrid odour of death. He gagged, grimaced, and then he smiled.

These horsemen were the Lady's guards. But they were dead. He watched as the rider reached out to take the Lady from her cart. The rider touched the white knuckled hand of the Lady, and he became a memory as he dissolved into smoke and debris, a pile on the ground beside the cart. Kile smiled as the other riders milled around the woman who was beginning to look a might uncomfortable. Another Miscreant ignord the fate of its fellow and went the same way as it tried to grasp her hair.

Now there were but ten, and as they were obviously not human, the scales were tipped his way. The guards were very much alive when they had galloped up the road but minutes before, but now they were Miscreants. Dead, but still as if alive. The tools of a sorcerer of the dark path. They had been lurd away from the Lady, and their souls had been cast out. Their life light extinguished. They were useful, dispensible and very stupid. They could not harm the Lady, for they could not touch her. The merest hint of contact with a virgin, pure of heart, rendered their evil bodies smoke and bones. They did learn however, and another had boarded the cart, being careful not to touch her, it picked up the reins, and with a flick, had the wagon in motion.

Kile was in a quandry. Now he owed this Lady nothing. In fact, her lady-in-waiting had almost betrayed her to these un-men. He idly picked at his chin, pulling a bit of grass from his mouth. He was pure of heart himself was Kile, he could not let this happen. Virgins of such high breeding were scarce, and the sorcerer that needed her chastity would not be too far away.

Dammit, thought Kile. He stood up, and with a flourish, stepped out onto the road. The horses pulling the cart stopped dead, whinnied and reared back in their fear, constrained by the straps and buckles of their rig.

The rider which had taken the reins brushed against the Lady in the abrupt halt, and he disappeared in a puff of smoke...his bones falling to the ground. The other riders came about, confused. They had not been prepared to meet any opposition. The Lady looked at Kile and smiled. Then, she screamed. The Miscreants horses spooked, and several were dismounted...immediately, their horses became smoke and bones.

Kile opened his stance a litle as he prepard to meet these creatures. The first four were easy, one afetr another, they they charged him, and one after another Kile hit them with a solid backhand that broke a part here, another there, but which effectively, put them in the debris pile.

There were five left. Kile circled carefully, keeping at least four in his field of vision at all times. He smiled as two of them took up station upon either side, their spears held in a menacing posture. Another was making a lot of threatening movements that amounted to nothing, distracting him from the two either side. Kile looked directly at the distracter, which was the riders cue to attack simultaneously. As the spears appeared certain to skewer him, he stepped back, and helped both riders onto his opposite number's spear with a tap behind the head. Once more there was a clatter of old bones, and a puff of dust.

The three remaining Miscreants had a mission. They needed that something extra, and it appeared that one of them had that little bit of life in it, that allowed him to be creative. He jumped up to the rear of the cart, and picked up a spear. He held it but a hairs breadth from the Lady's heart.

Kile watched as the rider made little circles just above the Lady's breast, inferring that the spear would enter her at that point. He held his attack, and allowed the two other riders to get in a little closer with their weapons. They could not hold him physically, for he was larger than them, and still very mobile, but they also had him surrounded. Kile smiled, well, they thought they did. Their spears were pointed at his heart as the thinking Miscreant nodded at the two. They herded Kile around behind the cart, the horses , still wild eyed watched him go.

Kile was impressed. These had been clever these three, and Kile knew that was unusual. He must find out who the sorcerer was, though he was pretty sure it would be Scoumage. The evil one was particularly adept at creating Miscreants, and had numerous of the creatures in his 'employ'. He must have made quite an evil compromise to master twelve horse soldiers in one swift motion.

The cart started to move as the rider took the reins, the spear still held at the Lady's heart. As it moved away, the two guarding Kile looked in its direction, and failed to see Kile snap his wrists forward, which revealed two twelve inch steel blades anchored beneath a wide leather gaiter. He swung left and right, snapping the shafts of the spears of his guards and driving the blades into their leather bound stomachs. He turned and completed the stroke - opening them up from stomach to neck. There was no gore, no scream. Just a puff, and they were no more.

The cart started to pick up speed.

Kile knew he would have to get the lead out, so he put down his head, and charged after the cart. Bitch days were bad at the best of times, and this was definitely not the best. His feet padded rhythmically on the roadway, not unlike a horse, he thought, as he gradually made up ground on the cart.

He finally reached out and grabbed the rear of the cart and held. He dug his feet in and created two furrows in the road as briquettes and earth were ploughed up under his feet. The drag began to tell on the horses as they faltered and reduced their canter to a walk, and finally, they stopped beside an old inn. A drinker stood in the door way, apparently disinterested at the spectacle.

The final Miscreant took up his spear and swung to face the Lady, as at the same instant, she swung to face him. The Lady reached out, and Kile was not sure, but he thought they smiled briefly at each other as he lowered the spear, and she touched his brow. The rider sighed as he dissolved to nothing and the air was suddenly very still. 'Very impressive My Lady.' The voice came from the doorway of the inn. ' And you Kile. Very well done.' Scoumage, sorcerer and dealer in souls and deeds most foul, walked out into the sunlight.

Kile walked around the cart, glanced up at the Lady, and continued til he fronted Scoumage. The Lady seemed a little unsure on whether she was saved or was been pushed from the pan into the fire. Was her fate with this man who reeked evil and cast no shadow, or this Kile creature who showed no fear as he addressed the mage.

Kile smiled at Scoumage. ''Tis a smell thou doest bring with you to this place scum sucker that this Lady should not endure. T'would be better for all methinks if thou didst leave now, and not turn back to look, else I shall make thy journey most uncomfortable.'

The mage sneered at Kile, but said nought as Kile flashed his concealed blade, and casually severed a leather strap restraining one of the terrified horses in its yoke. It fell in two as if butter, and with a snort, the horse leapt free, and was gone.

The mage was clearly considering Kiles offer. ' I cannot kill you Kile, and you cannot kill me,' he smiled, 'but we can give each other such grief. Would it not be better, if you come to me as an equal. Join my endeavours.'

The look of disgust on even Kiles impossible to read face was enough.

'No matter Kile. One day, one day….' Scoumage turned and walked away. He walked into the shadow of the inn and was gone.

Kile turned to face the Lady. 'My Lady, I must ask, how did that evil man lure away your entire guard?'

She blanched a little at his question, but her high breeding showed through, and she bowed her head. 'My brother led the Household Guard for my father, and was leading our caravan. He received a summons and word that Prince Coln of Garthshire was but a league away and requested his presence immediately. They had hardly departed, when my lady-in-waiting saw you and screamed,' she blushed, ' but I saw my brother return and was relieved, until I saw his death mask.' A tear left a trail on her dusty cheek. She brushed it away, stood straight and proud, and addressed Kile. 'And now I assume you are going to eat me!'

Kile opened his mouth to speak, a retort ready for some banal little rich girl bleating. Once more he was caught off guard. He mumbled under his breath about the degrees of bitch day and where this one was. He was again on the defensive. ' Why on earth would I want to devour a skinny little runt like you?'

He was indignant, and feigned have been offended.

'Well,' she said, 'isn't that your reward for defeating the mage?'

Kile flapped his wings, he turned his face away, and snorted a lungful of etheric flame. He sat back on his hind legs, and he spoke, sternly. ' You are misinformed My Lady. You have been saved. Not for my dinner, and not for your martyr's attitude. I can smell the pure and chaste a mile away, and you are so chaste, even the flowers defer to you.' Kile smiled. 'My Lady, I am Kile, Dragon Lord of the House of Pen. I am obliged to honour thee and protect thee as law invoked by the High King. As your caravan is wasted, I shall escort thee to thy destination. Where were you bound M'Lady?'

'This has been an experience that shall have consequences I think. I wish to have an audience at Caerlott. I have a petition to the Merlyn from my father.' She said quietly, her voice returning.

Sweet , thought Kile, she would certainly be sweet. He shook his head and banished the thought. He dipped his shoulder, and beckoned the Lady to jump up behind his neck. ' Come on M'Lady, stop draggin' your feet!' he smiled to himself, at his little pun.

Ahhh, he thought, this is how it is meant to be. He stretched out his wings, and he gracefully left the ground. Borne by magic breezes, they soared up into the afternoon sun. On they flew, until as the sun prepared to ease below the horizon, they descended toward a cluster of lights.

'Doest My Lady have a name?' Asked Kile.

'I am Lady Nimue, my Lord Kile. I travel to see if the Merlyn can aid in our search for a reliable supply of water for our small estate.' She sat upright, pride evident.

'Ahhh,' Kile growled, 'be sure to tell the Merlyn, I sent thee'

And at that, they dipped into the mist on a quiet lake.

The end