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“I’d kill them,” Lancelot with all the arrogance that
comes to children who think they are invincible said.
“Black dogs can’t be killed except by magic.”
Even then, he had laughed at the idea of magic,
laughed at the idea that danger lurked in forests. He had
laughed at the thought of death until he faced it and lost his
world.
He sprang from the cover of the trees and positioned
himself between Mabuz and the dogs. They whined in
excitement at the prospects of a two-course meal instead of
a single entrée and advanced.
“Can you climb trees?” Lancelot asked as the three
dogs inched closer.
“Of course I can.”
“Then do it now.”
“That’s being a coward.”
“Would you rather be dog food?”
This silenced Mabuz. As the dogs got within five
feet of Lancelot, he began to shimmy up the tree. He
climbed like a snake, Lancelot thought, just sort of slithered
up the bark onto the lower limbs several feet above the
ground.
The first dog leaped and Lancelot hacked at it while
it was still in the air. The beast yelped in pain and fell to the
side. He twitched on the ground as blood seeped from his
side.
The two other hounds stopped. Seeing their fellow
dog twitching in pain on the ground had not entered their
plans. The pause was brief as they adjusted their strategy.
Instead of approaching Lancelot head on, they split up, each
circling on opposite sides of Lancelot. Attack on two fronts.
Lancelot had seen the strategy before.
He watched as the black dogs moved toward him.
He had the weird sensation he was watching mirrored
images as the dogs moved exactly in step with each other.
They had hunted together before. With that realization,
Lancelot seized on a desperate plan. He backed closer to the
tree sheltering Mabuz so that he could watch the dogs a little
longer. Their actions confirmed his original idea. They
moved with the same exact measured steps.
Trusting his instinct, Lancelot turned his back on one
and faced the other. The dog tensed and then leapt.
Lancelot dropped to the ground and the dog sailed over him
and collided with the other who had leapt at exactly the
same time. They bounced off each other and hit the ground.
Lancelot acted quickly and drove his sword into the nearer
one. It yelped and then fell silent.
Lancelot got lucky because the remaining dog did
not attack immediately but instead, backed away from
Lancelot as if to reassess the situation. If it had attached,
Lancelot would have been driven to the ground and his
throat ripped out. Instead, he recovered quickly, pulled the
sword out of the black dog and the ground, and faced the
lone survivor.
The dog snarled and licked its muzzle. It stared at
Lancelot as if to decide whether this meal was worth the
trouble.
“Kill it!” Mabuz screamed.
When the dog heard his voice, it bolted. Deciding to
seek some easier prey, it disappeared into the forest.
Mabuz shimmied to the ground. “Why didn’t you
kill it?”
Lancelot felt weary. “You don’t kill anything unless
you have to.”
He expected the boy to call him a coward, but he fell
silent and just looked at Lancelot.
“Take me home, please,” Mabuz said. Lancelot tore
up some moss and wiped his sword clean. The moss sizzled
and burned where the dog’s blood touched it.
“I want my mom,” Mabuz said.
He took Lancelot’s hand. It was the nearest thing to
a thank you Lancelot would get. He smiled and led the boy
away.
“I’d kill them,” Lancelot with all the arrogance that
comes to children who think they are invincible said.
“Black dogs can’t be killed except by magic.”
Even then, he had laughed at the idea of magic,
laughed at the idea that danger lurked in forests. He had
laughed at the thought of death until he faced it and lost his
world.
He sprang from the cover of the trees and positioned
himself between Mabuz and the dogs. They whined in
excitement at the prospects of a two-course meal instead of
a single entrée and advanced.
“Can you climb trees?” Lancelot asked as the three
dogs inched closer.
“Of course I can.”
“Then do it now.”
“That’s being a coward.”
“Would you rather be dog food?”
This silenced Mabuz. As the dogs got within five
feet of Lancelot, he began to shimmy up the tree. He
climbed like a snake, Lancelot thought, just sort of slithered
up the bark onto the lower limbs several feet above the
ground.
The first dog leaped and Lancelot hacked at it while
it was still in the air. The beast yelped in pain and fell to the
side. He twitched on the ground as blood seeped from his
side.
The two other hounds stopped. Seeing their fellow
dog twitching in pain on the ground had not entered their
plans. The pause was brief as they adjusted their strategy.
Instead of approaching Lancelot head on, they split up, each
circling on opposite sides of Lancelot. Attack on two fronts.
Lancelot had seen the strategy before.
He watched as the black dogs moved toward him.
He had the weird sensation he was watching mirrored
images as the dogs moved exactly in step with each other.
They had hunted together before. With that realization,
Lancelot seized on a desperate plan. He backed closer to the
tree sheltering Mabuz so that he could watch the dogs a little
longer. Their actions confirmed his original idea. They
moved with the same exact measured steps.
Trusting his instinct, Lancelot turned his back on one
and faced the other. The dog tensed and then leapt.
Lancelot dropped to the ground and the dog sailed over him
and collided with the other who had leapt at exactly the
same time. They bounced off each other and hit the ground.
Lancelot acted quickly and drove his sword into the nearer
one. It yelped and then fell silent.
Lancelot got lucky because the remaining dog did
not attack immediately but instead, backed away from
Lancelot as if to reassess the situation. If it had attached,
Lancelot would have been driven to the ground and his
throat ripped out. Instead, he recovered quickly, pulled the
sword out of the black dog and the ground, and faced the
lone survivor.
The dog snarled and licked its muzzle. It stared at
Lancelot as if to decide whether this meal was worth the
trouble.
“Kill it!” Mabuz screamed.
When the dog heard his voice, it bolted. Deciding to
seek some easier prey, it disappeared into the forest.
Mabuz shimmied to the ground. “Why didn’t you
kill it?”
Lancelot felt weary. “You don’t kill anything unless
you have to.”
He expected the boy to call him a coward, but he fell
silent and just looked at Lancelot.
“Take me home, please,” Mabuz said. Lancelot tore
up some moss and wiped his sword clean. The moss sizzled
and burned where the dog’s blood touched it.
“I want my mom,” Mabuz said.
He took Lancelot’s hand. It was the nearest thing to
a thank you Lancelot would get. He smiled and led the boy
away.
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