The Fallen World

War Rules - Part 2

      When he came to, he was surprised to find that he was still alive, but not surprised to find that he was bound hand and foot and that all his weapons had been taken.

     His first sensation was of sweet, blessed warmth, and he opened his eyes to find that he was in a tent, with sheets of hide stretched across a framework of wooden poles. Another sheet of leather covered the floor, and a large slab of stone in the centre of the tent had a small log fire blazing merrily away on it. Fletcher lay nearby, also tied up and still unconscious, and from outside came the sound of a raging snowstorm.

     He looked down at his stomach, where the sword wound had been, but felt no pain there and saw that all the blood in his clothing was long dry, with no sign of any recent fresh bleeding. He squeezed his thumbs and fingers together, finding that they felt quite normal, and he knew that if he could see them, he would find them pink and healthy, with no sign of frostbite. In fact, he felt fine all over, except for the pain of his bonds. The sholog priest had healed him, it seemed. Almost certainly so he’d make better sport and last longer when he decided to play with him. Priests of Skorvos, the God of Conquest, relished the chance to torture a priest of Samnos to death, and he no doubt he meant to make the most of this rare windfall.

     He struggled in his bonds, quite uselessly, and tried to wriggle closer to the Beltharan soldier. “Fletcher!” he hissed as loudly as he dared. “Fletch! Wake up!” The soldier was still out cold, though, and looked likely to remain that way for some time.

     “Damnation!” swore the young priest in frustration. If they’d both been awake they might have been able to free themselves and escape before the shologs came back. There was still a chance, though, so he pushed the soldier with his head and shoulder, rolling him over onto his front and bringing his bound hands uppermost, then began to work on the knots with his teeth. If he could untie Fletcher, and if the soldier woke up before the sholog priest came back...

     He’d barely started, though, when there was a blast of cold and a flurry of snow, and he looked around to see the huge sholog standing there, heavily wrapped in several layers of snow-encrusted furs and leather. He cast aside most of his furs, revealing his priest's uniform beneath, then grabbed Drake by the shoulder and threw him across to the other side of the tent.

     “There’s gratitude for ya,” he said with a toothy grin. “I saves yer life, and ya can’t even stop t’ say thanks before trying to go.” He laughed then, a horrible sound like a cross between the barking of a dog and the braying of a donkey.

     Drake struggled into a sitting position and glared defiantly at the sholog, but he said nothing, knowing that nothing he said would make any difference to his situation. He was determined to die with honour and dignity.

     The sholog waited for a few moments, then shrugged indifferently and picked up Drake’s helmet from where it lay on the floor a few feet away. “I see you're a Defender of the Faith now,’ he said, running a hairy, clawed finger along the gold stripe. “Gone up in the world, have we?”

     Realisation suddenly came to the young priest. “You’re the priest I met in the Overgreen Forest last year,” he said. “I thought I’d killed you.”

     “Liar!” roared the sholog angrily. “Ya thought at the time that I was dead, or else ya would've made sure o’ me, but ya found out later that I were still alive ‘cos ya sent out patrols after me. They didn’t catch me, but I caught you, didn’t I?”

     Drake didn’t reply, and the sholog suddenly burst out in wild, hooting laughter; a kind of laugh that surprised the young priest because the creature seemed to be laughing at himself, something he’d had no idea shologs were capable of. Shologs laughed while they were pulling someone’s arms off, or when they were burning someone’s eyes out. Shologs laughed at other people’s pain, especially if they were the ones inflicting it. But a sholog who laughed at himself? It was unheard of.