Extraordinary Zoology (17 page)

Edrea laced her boots on, glad to be back in her own clothing, even if it wasn’t especially clean. There had been plenty of coverage in that trollkin wrap, but her Iosan skin wasn’t well-suited to the coarse swath. Or maybe, she admitted to herself, it had less to do with race, and more with having grown to like soft leathers.

“Lynus, Edrea!” Pendrake called out across the lodge. “Let’s put our heads together. Crack the books. We are not going to fight a gorgandur without a plan.”

Lynus pulled the contents of his satchel out and began spreading them on the table in the center of the room.

“You mean ‘put Pendrake in charge’ isn’t enough of a plan already?” Horgash asked with a wry smile.

Lynus’ face fell. Edrea suppressed a grin. He really was adorable when put upon like this.

“It would be a fine plan,” said Edrea, stepping to Lynus’ side, “if Pendrake were actually in charge. Then he could very sensibly lead us on a northward or westward exodus.”

“Indeed,” Pendrake said, stepping to Lynus’ other side and putting an arm around him. “With my valor so excellently touted, I’m no longer afforded the option of exercising discretion, which is ever its most critical element. So let us dispense with wishing for retreat and figure out how to fight.”

“We’ve never seen a gorgandur in battle,” Horgash said. “Any tactics we devise are stones laid on a foundation of thatch.”

“Hmph,” said Lynus, brow furrowed. “How much stone does it take to smash the thatch flat?”

“That’s not the point,
chronicler
,
”
Horgash said.

“Okay. How much stone does it take to smash a frame house flat? Like in Bednar? How much weight does it take to cause the ground to ripple into berms? Because I think that is exactly the point.”

Horgash frowned and fell silent.

Edrea considered the puzzle and sighed heavily. “I audited Professor Kilgore’s Rudiments of Physical Mathematics lectures two semesters ago. I wish I’d paid more attention. Or brought my notes.” She looked at Lynus and shrugged. “Still, I might have something to contribute.” She pulled a blank sheet of paper free of the spread and took one of Lynus’ pencils.

“I think it can be worked out in cross-sections, using common figures for density.” She laid out the multiplication and quickly spun an answer out on the page.

“I’ve done something wrong,” she said. “It’s coming out too heavy by far. At this size and density, it weighs over forty tons per pace of length. Based on the rippling we saw, I think it’s about fifteen paces long. If it’s that heavy, the ground would have been much more torn up. Also, I don’t think any creature of that mass could move under its own power.”

Kinik cleared her throat and thumped a finger against the haft of her war cleaver. “The shaft is hollow, for strength. Maybe the monster is hollow. Needs room to eat things?”

“That makes sense,” said Edrea, “but we can’t measure that directly. We can only guess.”

“The berms,” Lynus said. “They were about three feet high. How much weight does it take to pile a berm like that?”

Edrea stared at the page. Then she looked up at Lynus. “That part where I said I wished I had brought my notes? I’m sure there’s a formula for lateral displacement, but I don’t know it.”

“Soil gets pushed like that underfoot when we’re moving stones,” said Horgash. He frowned and scowled in frustrated concentration, an unintelligible murmur rattling in his throat.

His eyes went wide. “Quarry spars!” he announced.

“Is that a formula?” Edrea asked.

“Horgash is jumping ahead, and isn’t showing his work like you did,” said Pendrake with a grin. “Good thinking, old friend.”

Edrea was no stonemason, nor had she spent any time around them. “Professor, I still don’t understand.”

“If the thatch doesn’t want to get crushed by the stone, the thatch needs a way to push back. The thatch needs leverage.”

Edrea sat on a hay bale near the stables with Lynus and Kinik, watching as six trollkin with six fifteen-foot spars pushed against a nearby house. The house was winning, in that it was not moving. Quarry spars, as it turned out, were heavy wooden poles used for levering big blocks of stone into position. Horgash and Pendrake stood to one side of the house, coaching the spar crew.

“If Horgash had said ‘polearms,’ we would have caught on immediately,” Lynus said.

“Horgash was a little put off by the mathematics,” Edrea said. “And I don’t think he understands leverage. Those trollkin aren’t using the spars as levers. They could push against the house just as hard, probably even harder, using only their hands.”

“No, no,” said Kinik. “If the house is the snake, and the snake rolls, a trollkin using hands is too close, and gets flat. A team with spars can pin it, push it. Maybe pinned, the snake can be killed.” Then Kinik sighed heavily. “But not that team.”

Edrea noticed Kinik clenching and unclenching her grip on her war cleaver, scowling and frowning.

“Kinik,” said Edrea, “Horgash and Pendrake don’t really know how to teach pole fighting, do they?”

“No. The grips are wrong. The feet are wrong. Even the eyes are wrong.”

“Get down there and take over the lesson.”

Kinik’s eyes went wide with fear. “I am a student, not a teacher!”

“Good students are also teachers, and you know more about this subject than anybody down there. Go show those old trollkin how to swing a spar and knock down a house.”

Kinik nodded, set her jaw, and strode across the village.

“Pole fighting can’t be taught in a day,” said Lynus after the ogrun was out of earshot.

“Probably not, but let’s watch.”

Kinik stepped in among the trollkin and said something, bowed to Pendrake, then handed her war cleaver to Horgash. She took a quarry-spar from one of the trollkin, hefted it experimentally, and adjusted her grip.

She then began lunging and thrusting with it, first thumping the wall of the house, then tapping the other spars, knocking two of them from the hands of the trollkin who held them. Pendrake laughed, his enthusiasm audible from across the village.

The next ten minutes appeared to be a lesson in grip, stance, and coordination. Within fifteen minutes, the trollkin were following Kinik’s lead, thrusting together and slamming the spars into the side of the house in unison. Dust shook from among the stones. The house’s victory was no longer certain.

“Lynus,” Edrea began. “They might just be able to pin the gorgandur, but if they do, how are we supposed to kill it?”

“You remember what Pendrake wrote in the
Monsternomicon
, don’t you?”

Edrea did remember.
“
‘I’ve never heard tell of one of these beasts being slain, nor can I even imagine how it might be done,’” she said, quoting the passage as best she could.

“And I can’t imagine it either. The weight of the thing, hollow or not . . . its hide has to be incredibly durable just to support itself.”

Edrea thought about the articulated armor suits she’d seen. “If the wurm can move, then that durable hide might be segmented. It might have gaps in it, Lynus.”

“They have six of those poles, and maybe two dozen trollkin with any measure of skill with swords or axes,” Lynus said. “From the tales, the gorgandur could swallow that many people all in one go.”

Edrea opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a rumbling sound. She looked at the house the trollkin were, literally, sparring against. It still stood, but the team with the spars stared at it expectantly.

She looked at Lynus, and he stared back at her, eyes wide.

“It’s starting,” he said. “The gorgandur is here, beneath us.”

Edrea stood and pointed at the team of trollkin. “If you’re right, they need to spread out.”

Lynus ran toward the spar-bearing trollkin, patting his hands across his belt and shoulder as he ran. His sword was slung over his back, ammo for the rifle he no longer carried was pouched at his waist, and his sample-taking kit was strapped to his left hip. If they survived this, he’d be able to take and preserve tiny shavings from a creature the size of a row of houses.

“It’s here!” he shouted. “Beneath us! Spread out!”

The spar-bearers looked at Lynus, confused.

Horgash repeated Lynus’ command in Molgur-Trul, and the spar crew complied. One of them shouted, “To arms!” far louder than Horgash could, and that cry spread quickly as voices like kettledrums boomed the repeated warning through the village.

Horgash drew both his swords and passed Lynus. Lynus stopped, puzzled, then realized the trollkin was headed back to the stables. He meant to ride Greta into battle.

Pendrake slid his unstrung bow from his back, slipped the bowstring onto one end, dropped that end against his boot, bent the bow, and finished stringing it – all in a continuous flowing motion.

“Thunder beneath us,” he said. “Definitely gorgandur.”

As if on cue, the rumbling sounded again, this time shaking the ground.

Kinik shouted, “
LOW!
” in Molgur-Og, and six spars thumped the ground, held out and down, ready to be raised in defense.

“Edrea said there might be gaps in the armor,” he said.

“We can only hope,” Pendrake replied.

“It gathers, then pushes in order to move,” said Edrea from behind them. “Thunder when it pushes, silence when it—” the rumbling and shaking of the ground cut her off.

“There!” a spar-bearer shouted, pointing. Lynus looked to where her outstretched arm pointed. A patch of ground a dozen paces across had swollen into a mound about four feet high at the center.

Lynus opened his mouth to speak. The mound exploded up and out, propelled by the eruption of a black cloud of something foul. Dirt and spattering drops of the black substance scattered for thirty paces in every direction, showering several trollkin, including the pointing spar-bearer.

She screamed, and Lynus stared in horror as her bluish skin began to smoke under the corrosive sludge.

“That wasn’t present in Bednar,” Pendrake said in an even tone. “But between the thunder and the sludge, this is definitely a gorgandur.”

As if summoned by the speaking of its name, the great wurm burst from the fresh crater. It was ten feet wide, roughly cylindrical, and had zigzagged segmentations running around its girth, defined by dirt-encrusted scales. Its eyeless head was heavily scaled, and its mouth folded open with three radially symmetrical jaws.

“The picture you drew wasn’t too bad,” said Lynus, striving to match the professor’s calm tone.

For several moments, it towered twenty feet in the air like an undulating, armor-plated pillar, and then it toppled toward the spar-bearers and slammed to the ground. Lynus’ teeth rattled, and dust rose from the nearby homes.

The wurm turned to face the screaming, sludge-spattered spar-bearer. A slight bulge had formed in the creature’s body as it bunched itself up some five paces behind its head. Then, with terrifying speed, it lunged forward and she disappeared into the creature’s open maw.

“
Up!
” Kinik shouted in Molgur. She charged the beast’s flank, the point of her war cleaver about eight feet off the ground. Three trollkin ran with her, and as one, the four of them slammed their polearms into the beast’s side just behind its head.