Lycan Fallout 1: Rise Of The Werewolf Read online

CHAPTER 4 –Tommy and Azile

  “This isn’t right, Azile,” Tommy said as he tied Oggie up. The dog was whining trying to get back to Mike.

  “He needs to know what we’re up against,” she said indifferently as she tightened up her saddlebags.

  “This isn’t the way to go about it. He almost died.”

  “I wouldn’t have allowed it. You should know me better than that. We’re still talking about Michael Talbot…the man has an uncanny penchant for getting out of trouble.”

  “He has to because of his even more uncanny knack for getting into it.”

  Azile laughed. “The gods favor him, we need him, and if this is what it takes to get him motivated, then so be it.”

  “The gods?” Tommy asked.

  “They are more prevalent now than they have been in centuries.”

  “What gods do the Lycan pray to?” Tommy asked.

  “Let’s go. We need to be as far away from this place as we can when he emerges. I fear he will be blinded by anger and may not listen to reason.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Tommy replied. “Are you so sure he’ll follow?”

  “I’m not, but he will feel that some measure of payback is called for.”

  “Just what I want, a pissed off Talbot gunning for me.”

  “Relax, it’s me he’s angry at.” Azile smiled.

  They had traveled along the small trail for a few hours when they came across a felled tree.

  “You there, stop!” a voice called out from the woods. “There is a toll to pass through these woods.” A burly, sparse-whiskered man emerged from the woods. A broken sword in his right hand and a flask in the left from which he took a large swig. He wiped his mouth as the amber liquid sluiced down his chin.

  “What would that toll be?” Azile asked.

  “You’re a woman?” the man asked, raising his glassy gaze to Azile’s high perch.

  Azile removed her hood. “I’ve been told that, yes.”

  “You’re a looker.” The man leered and laughed. “The price was merely your lives…now I think I’ll have to raise it.”

  “If you pull that little shriveled thing you call a cock out of your pants I will cut it off and make you chew it. Slowly I might add,” Azile said.

  Tommy couldn’t contain himself as he snorted between his fingers.

  “Something funny, lad?” the man questioned, trying to save face as his men gathered around him.

  “I’m good,” Tommy said, nearly laughing outright.

  “Whaddaya have in the cart?” the man asked, pointing with his blade.

  “It is of no concern of yours,” Azile told him.

  “You see that’s where you’re wrong, little lady.” The man with the blade said. “I am Gregor King of the Wild Woods.”

  “Seize the horse, Jon,” Gregor told one of the men.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Azile told Jon as he approached the reins.

  Jon hesitated, her words held conviction.

  “Taking orders from our next victim, er one night stand now?” Gregor asked. “You won’t be so high and mighty when me and my men are done with you.

  “As you wish,” Azile said.

  Jon grabbed the horses’ reins. The large mare swung her head around, catching the man in the temple. The concussive force dropped the man to the ground. The horse stepped up and placed a well-aimed hoof deep into his skull, shattering it much like a person would a cockroach; and with a similar – but louder – sound. Everyone but Gregor backed up.

  “Do not leave!” Azile commanded. “You will remove this tree for my companion and me, and then you are free to go.”

  Gregor was shaken up, but it was still five on two, one being a young man and the other a woman. “It’s just a warhorse!” Gregor shouted. “We haven’t had pussy that fine in months and I’ll not let it go.”

  “Correction, you’ve never had anything this fine and never will,” Azile told them.

  “It’s always the haughty ones that are the funnest to ride. When they break, it’s a wonderful thing to watch.”

  “Move the tree or I will save you for last,” Azile replied.

  “Let’s get out of here, Gregor. She’s a damned witch if I ever saw one.”

  “The smartest of the lot.” Azile turned to Tommy, he nodded.

  “You’re an idiot. Take her from her horse!” Gregor commanded.

  The mare stomped her feet in response.

  “I will not,” the man told him.

  “Why don’t you, Gregor?” Azile asked.

  He stared at her intently, took another long pull from his buckskin flask. “I am King. Kings do not soil themselves with dirty work.”

  “Then I suggest, your majesty, that you order your men to remove this tree,” Azile said, flourishing her words with a bow.

  Gregor gazed long and hard at her. When he realized that the opportunity for harm to befall him was too great, he spoke. “Well, since you put it so kindly. Let’s go you lecherous lot and move the log for the woman.”

  Azile paid them no attention as she waited. The men grunted and groaned as they swiveled the large log from the path.

  “You are free to go,” Gregor said. He swept his arm down the path as if he had allowed it.

  “A few hours back you will find a rope tied to a tree. If you see it you’ve gone too far, a man should be on the path behind us, you can take our toll from him,” Azile said as she spurred her horse on.

  “Azile!” Tommy said. “He is wounded. We shouldn’t have left him in the first place, and now you send more to attack him?”

  “He will take what we both know he needs.”

  “He doesn’t like to be manipulated.”

  “He’ll never know we sent them.”

  “That you sent them,” Tommy clarified. With that, he followed her.