Tauren Tale, Chapter 7

Story by gre7g on SoFurry

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#7 of Tauren Tale


"I offer you your own worthless hide!" the Centaur shouted in Theodore's face. The rogue seemed unruffled by the sweaty half-man.

Sanja and her brother tightened their grip on the stones they prepared to throw. Kazbo fidgeted nervously behind the campfire.

"Leave the Tauren and walk away. Unless you would rather perish with them..."

The following moments unfolded in the blink of an eye.

The enraged Centaur foolishly lowered his spear as he shouted, and the spearhead nearly touched the sandy ground.

Theodore launched off of his right foot and brought his left boot down square on the end of the spear. The sudden leverage snapped it out of the Centaur's grip.

"Oops!" Theodore laughed, but the sound was far deeper and ominous than it should have been. He had become the beast once more, both huge and menacing.

"Wha...?" gasped the Magram, but before the Centaur could react, the Worgen had already jumped on his back and wrapped his long legs around the creature's horse-waist.

"You should have taken my deal!" the werewolf laughed. He gripped the Centaur's braid in his left hand and an unsheathed dagger in his right.

The Magram whinnied and reared up high in the air, trying to knock the rogue from his back. Sanja dashed forward. She snatched the spear and rolled out from under the Centaur's hooves in one fluid motion.

"Fifty pieces of silver!" the werewolf shouted.

He could easily have driven his knife into the terrified beast's back, but instead he slashed at the horse-flanks behind him. The steel knife had to have been razor sharp, as the gashes it opened looked both huge and deep. For a moment, it looked like some sick parody of a rider whipping his mount to go faster.

The Centaur let out a scream of pain unlike any the Tauren had heard before. It was a horrible sound, somewhere between that of a man and a horse. Sanja almost dropped the spear and covered her ears. It seemed to last for hours, and even after the man stopped screaming, the sound seemed to echo inside of her head.

The horse-man grabbed at a knife on his belt. But Theodore slid his dagger into the man's armpit and slashed viciously upward, instantly severing a number of crucial tendons. "Just look at that merchandise!" The Worgen shouted. "They would be a bargain at twice the price!"

The Magram reared up again and flopped over on its back, trying to crush his rider or at least trap the werewolf's leg under his weight. His left hand waved furiously, trying to grab on to the slippery rogue.

Theodore leapt from the beast's back at the last moment and rolled smoothly to his feet. "Why, the boy could fetch water for you." He grinned at the wounded man.

"You bastard," the Centaur muttered. He pulled his knife - awkwardly with his left hand - and struggled to climb back to his feet.

"So you don't like little boys?" the Worgen chuckled and slashed with his dagger. "Perhaps I guessed wrong about your tastes!"

The Centaur charged at Theodore and tried to trample him, but with one wounded haunch, he moved slowly enough to allow the leather-clad monster to slide past the crushing hooves. An outstretched dagger drew a long bloody line down the length of his horse-body.

"The girl, perhaps," the Worgen said as the Centaur made a quick turn. "Why, she could muck out your filthy hovel."

The Magram charged at Theodore once more. He reared up and tried to bring his hooves down on top of the beast.

"You will regret missing this deal!" the rogue laughed as he ducked under the Centaur for a final time.

The Magram staggered where he landed and his horse-belly opened wide, spilling giant loops of intestine out across the sand.

Theodore, looking human once more, strode casually around until he was facing the dying Centaur. The half-man/half-horse beast struggled to stay upright; his dagger fell from his hand.

"No one cheats a Gilnean of what is rightfully his," Theodore whispered. He raised his dagger in both hands and prepared to show the Centaur a merciful death. But then changed his mind and slid the knife back in its sheath.

Theodore turned his back on the Magram and faced the wide-eyed Tauren girl. She held the spear in front of her with a death-grip. The head had snapped away at the start of battle and it shook in her hands with a palsy.

The rogue paid no more attention to the weapon now, then when the Centaur had held it. "There, I saved your life. Now you owe me!"

Sanja's jaw went slack for a long moment and she stared at him - speechless. But the words came flowing back, pushed ahead by a flash flood of hate. "We owe you nothing!" she screamed. "You... you didn't kill that man to protect us. You killed him because you wanted to kill him. You are either a wholly corrupt, evil, evil man or..." She stopped and her brain raced for any other explanation. "Or a man who is so stupid that he doesn't even know why he does what he does."

Theodore shrugged and dismissed her words. "Tauren are so ungrateful."

He turned back around and relieved the dying creature of his purse. The Centaur reached up at him from where he laid with a blood-slicked hand, but the rogue just batted it away.

"Well here's why he didn't counter-offer," Theodore exclaimed. "One... no two pieces of silver and a handful of copper. Well, have no fear, little cow," he patted her furry cheek with a bloody hand as he walked by her, "not everyone in Desolace can be this poor. We will find someone who can afford to own you."


The rogue walked off into the darkness without another word.

Sanja collapsed to her knees and the desert went silent, save for the crackling fire and the rasping breaths of the dying man behind her.

After a few long minutes, she regained her composure. She put the dropped dagger in the sheath at her hip and threw her pack back across her shoulders.

"You can't be leaving," Kazbo shouted in Common. "Where are you going?"

"We have to leave," she said. "His family will come looking for him. The body is too big to bury. By morning the skies will be filled with swoops and vultures. More Centaurs will follow."

"Please... help..." the dying man gasped through bubbles of blood. She had to look away. There was nothing that could be done for him.

"We cannot proceed, I swear, I lament! I pushed hard all day and my energy's spent," Kazbo complained. "Is there fruit or any meat? I need some rest and have to eat."

Sanja looked around the campsite to see if Theodore had, in his haste, left any meat behind. But there was none.

The metallic smell of blood was nearly overwhelming. Sanja had helped prepare meat so many times in the past, but the hunters had always drained and gutted the carcasses before returning to camp.

She couldn't bring herself to say the words, so instead she gestured to the horse flank and gave Kazbo a meaningful look.

He seemed confused for a moment and then waved his hands in front of him. His skin looked very pale. "I hope you are joking; surely you jest! How is it you could even suggest...?"

She ignored him and looked to her brother. His eyes went wide.

"The... the cactus wasn't that bad," he stammered.

Sanja nodded and returned silently to gathering her stuff. She was relieved that neither of the others had to have meat for dinner. They had eaten regular horses many times before, but this was very different.

Despite her own hunger, she was certain she couldn't have carved into the dying man's flank. And she doubted she could have hastened his death.

Could I do it if he was already dead? she wondered, but had no answer. She wanted to leave before his final breath, so she wouldn't have to find out.

Sanja picked the spear back up and studied the broken end for a moment. "This could be useful. Perhaps we can use my broken knife as a spearhead.

"Is everyone ready to go?"

"I could summon intense flames with my words." Kazbo lit up. "Then there will be nothing left to attract the birds."

The Tauren looked at each other without emotion. The Gnome's magic was quite impressive, but they wouldn't even be in Desolace if the little mage could control the power he wielded.

"Inferno I command; consume as if tinder," the little man chanted. "Burst forth now and leave only cinder."

There was a bright flash and a low, bass "foop!"

Kazbo's eyes readjusted to the darkness and the body was gone. He grinned to his companions, but the Tauren had their hands over their heads and were scrambling for cover.

For several long seconds, warm, wet chunks of meat continued rain down.

Sanja and Jorga stared in both shock and horror at the little man as he stood motionless amid the gore. He opened his mouth and searched for words.

"Yuck."

Eventually Jorga elbowed Sanja.

"Ow! ...Well, um, our only hope is to walk through the night, and get a head start." She wiped her face with her hand. "Centaurs run fast. So let's hope they can't track the smell of blood."


The trio walked for another hour before Kazbo fell behind. "I fear I must stop, my strength is done. I can no longer walk, much less run."

Sanja knelt before him and put her hands on his arms. "We have to keep going," she said. "Our only hope is to make it to the road before the Magram can track us to it."

"Without me, I'm sure help you will find," he moaned. "You have no choice but to leave me behind."

"Listen to me! No one gets left behind," she said. "Here, Jorga, I need you to carry the pack." There was precious little left in it, so he took it without complaint.

Sanja picked the little man up and put him on her shoulders. He was a lot lighter than her brother, but much, much heavier than the pack. "Just until you catch your breath," she explained.

They continued walking across the darkened desert. Sanja used the spear as a walking stick.

When he could take the silence no longer, Kazbo was compelled to speak. "I'm sorry to be such undue... of a burden upon both of you."

"It's okay. Your legs are short," she said. "You have to trot, just to keep up. I'd be tired too."

After several long minutes, Kazbo whispered in her ear. "I know that we both live in a time of war, but have you ever seen someone killed before?"

Sanja was thankful that he spoke in Common, but she did not answer immediately. She looked over to her brother and patted him on the back. "Are you doing okay, Jorga?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Wish we could camp."

"Yeah, so do I," she replied. "Perhaps we can rest a bit in the morning."

Sanja let her brother get ahead of her a little ways before she whispered back to the Gnome. "No, Kazbo, I haven't. Have you?"

He dropped his voice too. "I have not been exposed to such strife. So, no, never before, in my whole life."

"I've hunted small game. I've seen the sentries come back with blood on their weapons. But this was different." She shook her head. "I can't stop hearing his scream."

She could feel the tiny man nod his head. "Yeah."

"I keep wondering, what if it had gone the other way?"

"On this, do you think you could expand?" he asked. "For I am certain that I don't understand."

"Well, what if a Centaur had rescued you, back on that mountain," she said. "What if the Centaur was helping you and a Tauren sentry had stopped you?"

"I don't know..."

"What if the Centaur and the two of you had crossed paths with Jorga and myself, huh?" she asked. "Would you be running from my family, now? In the morning, would they be racing to avenge us?" There was a tremble in her voice.

Kazbo sighed in her ear. "Listen to me, I know what I say. Please don't torture yourself in this way."

"In what way?"

"You're letting these thoughts play in your imagination; and wondering 'what if, in a different situation'," he explained. "You can't blame us for choices that we haven't made, or base it on a past that hasn't been played."

Sanja turned her head and the little man leaned around so she could see some of his face.

"It is impossible for anyone to say; our friendship happened this way." He gave her a reassuring smile. "I have concern for 'what next' we might find; so let's worry not, and leave 'what if' behind."


They walked through the night. Sanja carried the Gnome some of the time and he walked the rest.

The sky started to turn pink and Kazbo slipped into a sleep so deep that even shaking him would not wake him for more than a moment.

Sanja picked a low spot where they'd be well-concealed by scrub brush and they made camp for a few hours.

By mid-afternoon they had reached a wide, north-south notch in the sandstone that could only be the Trail of Woe.

Kazbo stretched his arms out wide and spun in place. His bright-red tunic and pale blue pants contrasted sharply with the grey, lifeless trail. "I can not believe we made it!" he shouted in Taurahe.

But the Tauren paid him no attention. They were both focused on something further west of the road, something that the tiny Gnome could not see.

"Is that what I think I smell?" Jorga said, his voice full of awe.

"It has to be," Sanja replied in a similar tone.

And then, without any warning, the two were off and away like jackrabbits, bounding over and around the scrub.

Kazbo watched the two sprint into the distance. His jaw hung agape and his relief at having reached the road, faded.

He sniffed the air.

"Smell what?" he screamed at their backs.