Brick & Mortar 5 (Patreon)

Hey guys! Sorry I've been quiet. I've managed to catch a cold—at least I hope it's just a cold. I did take a Covid test, and it was negative, but who knows, right? It's so frustrating. I've been so careful, but I had a dentist appointment, and you can't exactly tell them not to put their hands in your mouth...

Oh well.

Since my brain is too foggy to work on anything new, I polished up another chapter of Brick and Mortar. When last we left them, the duo had split up, and Brick had been spotted by a patrol!

Brick & Mortar (ver 4.1)
Brick & Mortar 2
Brick & Mortar 3
Brick & Mortar 4

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A patrol must have spotted me!

The humans must not have been positive that a minotaur was hiding here in the dark, or they’d be shouting and calling for their allies to prepare for an assault, but I could hear them coming closer to investigate. Though I couldn’t see them, they definitely saw or heard something.

I gripped my hammer’s shaft tightly and prepared to defend myself, but it was hopeless! It was far too dark out here to stand a chance in a fight. I knew that I should try to run away from the hold and lead the guards away from Johnny … but then what?

If I ran, I’d only fall flat on my face or maybe break an ankle. Without Johnny to lead me, I could do little more than feel my way to safety. The patrol would have no difficulty catching up with me.

That only left me one option—to run toward the torchlight and campfires. I’d be outnumbered for sure, but at least I’d go down swinging. Perhaps, I could take one or two of the invaders out with me.

So, I set off toward the hold as quickly and as quietly as I could manage. I tried to stick to the inkiest shadows and as far away from their men as I could. I felt that I was starting with a good lead on the patrol, but I doubted it would last. If they could see well enough to patrol without a torch, then they were probably running a lot faster than I was and without a worry about making noise.

I slipped around a crumbling wall and into the outpost’s central hold itself. Today’s battle must have raged right here, as I could see bodies—of both the pirates and the defenders—littering the floor. At least there were no living guards … yet.

A silent figure stepped from the shadows, and I gasped, but the light hit his face and reflected off his translucent skin.

I let out a tiny sigh of relief, and Johnny pointed toward an alcove behind me, so I backed into it as far as I could. At least, I was unarmored. Despite how my hooves clomped against the stone floor, I still moved a lot quieter than my pursuers. I lifted my hammer over my head and worked to slow my breath. I tried to be as silent as possible and readied myself to get one good swing in before they could mount a counter-attack.

Thank goodness the ceiling was high! I don’t think I could fight inside an orcish building if I had to.

Johnny was standing less than ten yards in front of me. He stared into the darkness with both daggers at the ready … watching … waiting.

Suddenly, he collapsed to the grass like a marionette with its strings cut! I gasped in surprise. I hadn’t seen what cut him down—a crossbow, perhaps? Some dark magic? He lay there, motionless among the dead. I wanted to call to him but resisted.

A moment later, two guards rushed in. Could these be the two from the patrol who had spotted me? I hoped so. If not, then more were surely coming.

I studied the two for the briefest of moments—a man and a woman, both dressed in leather armor and armed with short swords. It didn’t look good—two against one, and I was unarmored. I hoped they didn’t see me.

Though they spoke in hushed tones, I had no difficulty hearing them inside the keep’s oppressive silence. “Look there.” “Check there,” I guessed they were saying. Their words were harsh and foreign.

My pulse pounded in my long ears, and sweat rolled down my arms. My knuckles ached from the death-grip on the hammer’s shaft.

My hammer was no thing of beauty. In fact, it was little more than an oak log on a stick. My father and I had made it two months earlier, back when I’d first learned that I’d be leaving for the capital. It had been a good day—the sun was shining, the sky was clear, our conversation natural. I felt closer to my dad than I had in a long time.

When we finished making the hammer, I had wanted to carve some images into its sides. Our people don’t have a written language—we say that anything worth telling someone is worth saying in person—but we believe in the power of pictures.

My father told me not to.

He said, “This weapon suits you well. It may not be fast, and it may not be graceful, but it uses what we minotaurs have in abundance—pure strength. Keep it close, and it will protect you all the way to Honor’s Home.”

That seemed like a strange thing to say.

“Today was a wonderful day, and we’ll think back on it fondly while you are away, but this hammer is just a tool. Do not get attached to it just because it reminds you of home,” he explained. “When you get to the capital, they will be able to provide better weapons for you—better than anything our humble village can offer. And that is what you should use, the best weapons you can find. Use them to protect your fellow soldiers. Use them to protect your sisters and yourself.”

He hugged me, tightly and without reservation. “That way, you can return to us in one piece when all this fighting has passed.”

Chaska was a very quiet man—even by minotaur standards—but when he chose to speak, his words were well thought out. I hoped he was right, that the hammer would protect me this day.

Suddenly, a blade flashed in the torchlight, and Johnny cut easily through the man’s calf muscle. He wasn’t dead at all!

Well, no more than usual, at least.

The guard cried out in pain and began crumbling to the floor, unable to support his weight on his ruined leg. This was my opportunity, and I knew it.

I leaped forward, toward the female guard, and my hammer arced slowly through the air. I know it’s cliche, but time slowed to a crawl. I saw her face, her surprised expression, the simple necklace she wore. I smelled the sweat in her hair.

She turned, and in one well-polished move, she brought her sword up over her head at the perfect angle to deflect an overhead strike. She did not hesitate. Clearly, she had far more training than I did.

And had her attacker been more like herself, the parry would have worked flawlessly. A sword comparable to her own would have slid harmlessly along her own and left her weapon poised to strike back.

But I was not like her, not in the least. I stand nearly nine feet in height and weigh eight hundred pounds. I’m not trying to brag, just make it clear how dissimilar the two of us were. My biceps were as big around as her chest, and either of the fingers on one hand were as thick as her arms.

The hammer continued its slow-motion arc toward her. If I had to take a guess, I’d say that it weighed twice what she did.

Oak hit steel. Then, as one, they crashed down on her head, on her spine, her chest, her torso. The weapon came to rest with a sickening thud, and I stood there, stunned at what I’d done.

I had hunted. I had killed for food, but I’d never intentionally hurt another person.

When I looked up, Johnny was pulling a dagger from the man’s back. He had dispatched the guard with as little emotion as he did everything.

The battle had been brief. We listened but heard nothing.

Well, perhaps Johnny was listening. He could have been just standing there, waiting for me.

Regardless, the noise hadn’t alerted the others. Perhaps, they had mistaken the crash for something toppling over and not realized it had been combat.

“Johnny,” I said, and he turned his hazy eyes toward me, “do you remember our mission? We need to find the plans—a scroll or perhaps sheets of vellum—something they’d checked recently. Can you do that?”

He pointed to a flight of stone steps leading up.

“Yes, try up there. Don’t let anyone see you,” I reminded. “I’ll wait in this alcove. Hurry back.”

He left without a word, and while I waited in the dark, I prayed. Please guide Johnny quickly back to me, I asked the spirits of my ancestors. I need his help to get out of here.

———

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CBJK9kxBzQQeHvVVn5kcfhMimn9QNy5e7l5bwB9kwwQ/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?