The End for Sabre Tusk
Mis’tashe was a large and strongly built trading station, remote from all the lanes of normal commerce and frequented only by those trading beyond the law. But in a land where the “tidy little trades” were active, the station provided service to many a slaver or shadowy merchant. Built of sturdy gray stone, Mis’tashe had four wings, completely enclosing an open central square where slaves or trallés were held and displayed for sale. Windowless, except for double-grated openings in the single enormous iron door that served as the main entrance, Mis’tashe had an appropriately dismal and forbidding appearance, consistent with its work.
When Red Whale, Katteo, and their Wrecker escorts arrived at the station, the Wreckers, true to their promise, put on the performance of their lives.
“BEASTS OF THE TRADE! HEAR US WRECKERS! COME OUT AND HEAR US! ALL YOU BEASTS OF MIS’TASHE WHO WANT TO LIVE LONGER THAN AN HOUR! BEASTS OF THE TRADE! HEAR US WRECKERS! COME OUT AND HEAR US! WE WARN YOU OF POWERS THAT EVEN WE FEAR!”
This electrifying announcement brought beasts pouring out of Mis’tashe. The Wreckers were well-known to all the beasts at the station. Wreckers were tough, fearless, and strong—if they were fearful and had warnings to give, every beast wanted to hear about it! As the Mis’tashe beasts gathered, the Wreckers continued their frenzied yelling.
RUN! CLEAR OUT! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THE CRAZY BEASTS RIDING THE DRAGON ARE POWERFUL WIZARDS AND CONJURERS!” yelled one.
“THE DRAGON’S UNDER THEIR SPELL! THEY TRICKED MILKY JOE AND THE DRAGON ATE HIM! SNAP-CRUNCH-SLURP—AND HE WAS A GONER—CLEAN AS A WHISTLE, NOT A SCRAP LEFT—NOT EVER A GREASY SPOT ON THE TRAIL—GONE—GONE—GONE!” moaned another, his eyes rolling in terror.
Another wailing Wrecker, drooling from his mouth, and shaking at the knees, yelled, “THE DRAGON-CONJURER CAN MAKE THEM FLY—AND SHE CAN MAKE AS MANY AS SHE NEEDS TO EAT US ALL! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! SHE’LL KILL US IF WE DON’T LEAVE THE SLAVES AND GET OUT OF HERE!”
Another fell to the earth in a trembling mass of flesh, blubbering and jabbering incoherently. “DAA-DA-DU—DRAGOOSE—DRAGOOSOON—DARGOTON—CHOMPED JOWEE—AIEEE!” The poor beast began spinning on the ground like as if possessed by banshees. AIEEEEEEEE! DRAAGOOOOOOSOONE! ME GONEY!”
The effect of this dramatic performance was electric. Seeing the astonishing transformation of the burly, normally steel-nerved, Wreckers into a lot of blubbering, insane with terror beasts, drained every ounce of courage and reason out of the Mis’tashe guards and workers.
White-faced, the Mis’tashe beasts were frozen in terror for an instant. Then another most amazing thing happened, which sent them running pell-mell across the hills. One of the Wreckers, as part of his frenzied performance, cried out, “AND THE WORST OF IT IS THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT OTHER STRANGE BEASTS SHE CAN CALL IN ON US! SHE CONTROLS THE VERY LEGIONS OF HELL—WHAT OTHER TERRORS CAN SHE CALL UPON US?”
At that very moment, all eyes were suddenly attracted to a curiously humorous, yet, for the Wreckers, terrifying, sight: A troop of nine beasts marching a stark, raving mad Rummer Boar before them at the point of a cutlass.
“By the powers of hell!” the Rummer yelled “Take me back to the King Lizard, you scalawags! Return me to my savior and protector! The lizard armies will keep the birds from pooping on my hat! Don’t take me away from my King, my Lord!”
D’LoodD shouted, “SEE THE POWERS OF THE SHE-HELLION! SEE WHAT SHE’S DONE TO SABRE TUSK D’NEWOLF! THAT BE THE RUMMER BOAR CAPTAIN—AND NO DOUBT ABOUT IT! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”
“SHE CALLED BIRDS DOWN ON HIM AND DESTROYED HIM!” another Wrecker screamed.
The more the Rummer Boar loudly raved, the more terror his insane ranting caused in the Wreckers and their fellow ruffians.
“AIEEEEEEAHHHHH!” The scream broke from each of the Wreckers and all the Mis’tashe staff as if in one voice. Breaking free from their frozen terror, every muscle went towards full-throated, fully active, terrified flight. In a few moments, Mis’tashe was empty—except for Red Whale, Katteo, their monitor, and the dozens of slaves being held inside the way-station slave dock.
“What now?” Katteo asked quizzically. “What’s that all about?”
“I have no idea,” Red Whale replied, “but a Rummer Boar’s bad news wherever he shows up. I assume all those holding him captive can only be friendly beasts and we should aid them. I’ll ride out and greet our visitors. You stay here and see to the slaves—let them know what’s happening. They may be pretty worked up by all they may have heard.”
“Aye, aye, Capt’n!” Katteo grinned.
Mounting up, Red Whale gave Katteo a determined look and kicked the flanks of the monitor hard. Rearing back, the monitor slashed at the air with its jaws, then tore off like a bolt of lightning, heading straight toward the Rummer Boar and his escort.
Riding directly at the Rummer Boar was a stroke of genius, Red Whale realized as he closed on his prey. The massive dragon-lizard, jaws flashing and snapping, snarling and snorting, coming on like a hurricane from hell, broke the Rummer down completely. Collapsing to his knees, rambling on about bird’s pooping on his feathers and pleading for the Lizard King’s mercy, the Rummer looked blankly into the face of the fearsome monitor as Red Whale pulled up on the dragon’s reins, stopping the monitor directly in front of the now-docile Rummer Boar. Not a word was spoken. Nothing need be said, as the razor-sharp teeth glistened inches from the Rummer’s lowered head, and the dragon snorted hot breath nearly directly into the Boar’s face. The days of Sabre Tusk d’Newolf, terror of the seas, were over.