Perilous Jaunt Chapter 30

Story by Gnosis on SoFurry

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Chapter 30


Dante


I stood a few steps behind Osric, who still stared at the ruins of his hideout, not appearing to notice my presence. The back of his tunic and trousers were still covered in a sheet of soot. I was surprised he didn't smell me, but I realized that the crackling purple fire must have suppressed my scent.

_ This is for Esme and Rhona._ "Osric!"

Osric's tail twitched and he slowly turned around to face me. A jagged scar ran across his snout, starting from his left cheek and ending at his nostrils. Through the sizzling air between us that was heated by the fire, I could see the hate in his golden eyes as soon as he gazed at me. "You fucking bastard,"

I raised my sword and pointed it towards the Talth. "My friends were murdered by you and your men. And now, I'm here to avenge their deaths with your blood,"

Osric smiled. The never-ending miles of his sharp teeth glistened like a thousand freshly forged daggers. "You saw what we did to your shopkeeper friend?"

"Yes," I said. "And you'll wish you never laid a finger on her as I kill you,"

"You're one to talk, you piece of shit, using fire to do all the work for you. What kind of man are you?"

"I could ask you the same question, on account of you overseeing a bunch of thieves and rapists," I spat.

Osric drew his bastard sword and released a low growl through his teeth. "I'm gonna enjoy cutting your head from your shoulders,"

He suddenly raised his sword into the air and lunged at me as he brought it down. Luckily, he was slow, due to his size. So I was able to dodge his attack simply by sidestepping it.

I tried to attack, but Osric blocked my sword, only to rapidly bring his sword up and aim from my head with a horizontal slash through the air. I ducked and felt the top of my head beginning to sting. After hopping out of the reach of Osric's sword, I felt the top of my head with my left hand. Blood crept down the left side of my face and my neck. I then discovered that my left ear was missing and had been replaced by a geyser of blood.

Osric let out a battle cry and rushed at me, sword ready to run straight through my ribcage. I did another sidestep and swung my rapier at him. He let out a screech as my sword slashed across his face and he slid to a stop, just after running by me. He turned and faced me, allowing me to see that his cheek had been divided into two pieces by a horizontal red gash. The slit on the side of Osric's face was so big that I actually could see some of the bloodstained teeth in his mouth.

The crocodile spat some blood onto the ground. "Cocksucker!"

I yelled like a madman and leapt forward, bringing my sword down through the air above me. Osric blocked my attack and parried it to the side. He then attempted to stab me in the chest again, only to miss and barely nick my right side as I dodged the attack.

Resisting the urge to jump back and examine my side, which I could already feel starting to bleed, I lunged at Osric with my sword coming down through the air above me once again. This time, he was unprepared. Osric's shoulder was split almost in two as my sword dug into his body. I moved so swiftly that I was able to pull my now red sword back just as Osric began to scream. Osric's sword was pointed down at the ground and was held loosely in his right hand, while his left hand attempted to cradle his bleeding shoulder. Seeing that his defenses were down, I sprinted towards him and ran my rapier right through his belly, which was so soft that it felt as though I were stabbing water. As my blade entered him, Osric gasped in surprise and his eyes widened in terror.

"Burn in hell, you fucker," I hissed and pulled my sword out of Osric's stomach.

Osric fell down onto his knees and began gasping for air, which caused a waterfall of blood to pour onto the ground and slosh around him in the dirt with every breath he took.

I pulled my sword back and held it ready to attack once again. "This is for Esme and Rhona!"

Rapidly, I wedged my sword through Osric's right eye, the tip popping out the back of his skull with a fresh coat of red. I then pulled my sword back through Osric's eye, nearly tugging it completely out of its socket, and watched him awkwardly fall back into the blood around him.

With my heart rushing and the memories of my dead friends pouring through my mind, I stood over Osric's body and continued to stab him in his skull with rage. "You killed my friends! I would give up my eyes if it meant I could watch you suffer the same fate as they did, you cunt. At least then there would be some fucking justice in the world!"

I continued to stab him all over his face, which was now missing various scales and began to ferociously bleed so much that I could no longer see any green on it. Yet, I resumed my wild frenzy of attacks on the corpse, hoping he felt every stab that I inflicted upon his body.

"Dante?" a voice whispered from behind me.

My rapier slid into Osric's forehead and I froze. Slowly, I turned around and saw Peter staring up at me as he held my gun.

All the rage that had been boiling inside of me for the past day seemed to vanish as I looked into his concerned eyes. I then looked back at Osric's head and drew my sword out of it.

After cleaning my sword on one of Osric's trouser legs, I sheathed it and ripped off Osric's right tunic sleeve. Then, I placed the fabric over the bleeding portion of my head, where my left ear use to be.

Then, I turned back to Peter. "We should leave,"

After he gave me my gun and we went back to collect the rest of my things from amongst the trees, we left the burning pile of wood behind us while we headed south once again.

It had been a mile before we stopped to rest for a moment. I had kept Osric's sleeve on my head the whole way. But, when I sat down on a large rock, I asked Peter, "Could you look at my head?"

"Oh," the otter said, just before he could sit down. "Sure,"

I withdrew the soggy rag from where my ear use to be and I tiled my head down so Peter could examine it. The prince then approached me and silently gazed at the top of my head.

"Is it bad?" I asked, after Peter was silent for a moment.

"Well..." Peter said. "The brothels might charge you a little extra from now on,"

I happily laughed at his joke, assuming that if my wound were serious he probably wouldn't be teasing me about it.

"Dante?" Peter asked, his tone now more serious than before.

I raised my head and tossed the blood-soaked sleeve on the ground once I realized my bleeding had ceased. "Yeah?"

"Are we...friends?"

"Of course," I said. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," he began, "I like talking to you and would try to save you again if we're attacked like we were on the Fanged Peaks. But, I was wondering, do you feel the same way?"

"Yes," I told him. "We can have a serious conversation and I enjoy your company,"

"But I'm still your prisoner," Peter reminded me.

I sighed, realizing he was right. "Tell you what. I won't tie your arms together when we walk and I won't tie you up to a tree at night anymore. And I'll even teach you how to use the sword of yours,"

His eyes lit up like stars. "Really?"

"Really,"

Suddenly, his eyes grew sullen again. "But, once you hand me over to my father, you'll leave?"

"No," I assured him. "I have a friend in Lowpive that's an innkeeper. He owes me a favor for dealing with some Talth that were harassing him. Whenever you get a chance to escape from your father, you can come get me and we'll leave together with more gold than both of us can carry. Sound like a plan?"

"Do you..." Peter said in disbelief. "Do you really mean that?"

I reached out my right hand and placed it on his shoulder, which was warm to the touch. "I do,"

The prince smiled and his eyes were shinning with hope once again. "I'm glad that you're my friend, Dante,"

"And I'm glad that you're my friend, Peter," I said, rising to my paws and withdrawing my hand from Peter's shoulder. "Now, my friend, we should probably start walking again,"

"Okay," Peter said and walked beside me. "How much further do you think we should go?"

"Only three or four miles at most," I said. "I doubt anybody would follow us that far,"

"Good," Peter squeaked. "And, if anybody does try to attack us, I'll try to help you fight them off!"

"I'm grateful for your assistance," I thanked him.

"Don't mention it!" he told me.

And, for probably the first time since we had met, I was happy to be in Peter's presence.

To be continued in:

*Hopeless Liberation *