The Orb In the Sword: Chapter 8 Copyright 1998
	------------------------------- By Ben Christie.
					All Rights Reserved.

	Night had fallen on the dismal Grayden Hills. The
breeze from the east was cool and crisp, a final reminder of
the winter passed. The night was still young and the moon
had risen little into the sky, still concealed by the mountains
to the east, casting the valley into darkness. With a night so
strong, it was hard to believe the sun could ever have
penetrated through. Simple obstacles visible during the day
were now masked by the blackness, except for the
Traveler's camp. A bright orange glow flickered from the
fire, the strongest source of light in the valley. It cast
shadows of the tents across the grass and illuminated the
three cats who sat next to it, guarding the girl. They tore
their teeth savagely into a deer, which one had caught only
hours before nightfall. None of them offered the girl food
and she had watched with envious eyes. Moments ago she
had dosed off, asleep to dream of the pleasures she may
never see.
	The cats, however, were awake and continued their
feeding frenzy, coming close to finishing their prey. They
chatted and laughed amongst themselves, most likely the
talked about the girl's worth to wealthy buyers.
Occasionally, one of them would look over at the girl and
lick their lips, giving her a toothish grin. Like characters of a
play, they acted like slave pirates to the letter. The
descriptions that were said and the tales that were told
matched them exactly.
	Trakt had been watching the camp from a distance.
He had slept for most of the day and woke close to dusk.
From there on in he starred down upon the pirates and when
night fell he slowly moved closer to the camp.
	Trakt wasn't as stealthy as a master thief, nor was he
as oafish as an ogre, but he managed to make his way
silently to the edge of the fire's ring of light. The grass was
spotted by strange plants which gave off a strong aroma.
This would help to mask Trakt's scent from them. Hidden in
the bush he studied the pirates, watching how each of them
moved and looking for the quickest and easiest way of
entering the camp to free the girl. He gathered that the tiger
was the leader of the three. Unlike the other two cats, the
tiger was generally somber. He talked, but rarely did he
engage in the foolish and often tedious banter of the two
cats. And twice already Trakt had watched the tiger break
up brawls between the others.
	The remaining two felines didn't seem to hold any
rank among the pirates. The gray furred, skinny fellow was
indeed a dirty one. Even though cats are known to clean
themselves, this fellow looked as though he had abolished
the habit. Around his head he wore a red band which passed
over the right ear then below the other. Under his belt he
carried a small mace. He sat most of the time with his back
to Trakt.
	The final cat had brown fur. He was taller then the
dirty one and many details about him made it look as though
he'd been in battle before. His ear was chipped. His nose
disfigured. Along his upper right arm there was a bare strip
of skin where a red scar lay. A few other scars decorated his
body. On the ground next to him was an impressive sword.
It looked over four feet long. At the sword's guard the
curved blade was small, but by the tip it had grown as wide
as Trakt's head. Trakt noticed that he kept one hand on the
sword at all times.
	Trakt waited patiently. Soon the moon was had slid
out from behind the mountains and was beginning it's trek
across the open sky. The camp fire had begun to die down
and the ring of light was growing smaller, allowing for
Trakt to move closer. At last the felines settled down and
entered into their tents. Only one of the cats stayed behind,
the dirty one. He walked passed the girl who was still asleep
and grabbed her jaw, pointing her eyes at him. She tried to
free her face from his hands, but he held fast. Giving her a
wicked grin, he bent over and licked her snout with his
raspy tongue. Releasing her head, she looked away to the
ground. He smiled, pleased with her reaction. The cat stood
up against the tree which hung over the camp intent on
guarding it from there. He looked out towards the sky.
	Trakt was pleased. He couldn't see how this could
be more perfect. Carefully and quietly, Trakt made his way
into the grass around back of the tree. The tree trunk was
large enough to conceal his body as he rose up slowly from
the grass. Slipping out his curved blade, he took in a deep
breath of air then spun round the trunk.
	The cat had little time to reacted. Before he could
utter a word his throat was slit and his blood spilt down his
chest. A faint gurgling sound emitted from his mouth as he
feel to his knees then landed face first in the dirt.
	Wasting no time, Trakt went to the post the croc
was latched to. He placed his finger to his mouth and she
nodded in agreance. Gripping the cuffs which bound her to
the post, he pulled with all his strength, but to no avail. He
would need to break them open.
	At that moment, the brown feline emerged from his
tent.
	"Kirlof! You stole my rations you son of a b--" the
cat said, interrupted by the view of Trakt bent down next to
the female croc. Trakt was frozen in place, his eyes locked
with the cats until the feline looked away and to the tree. He
could see the shock in the cat's eyes as he looked upon the
body of his fallen comrade.
	The feline wasted no time. He cried out at Trakt and
swung his mighty sword forward.
	Trakt pushed back from the post as the curved blade
came slicing past his face. It connected with the wooden
post and lopped off the upper most part. The croc, luckily,
was untouched.
	Trakt had to act fast to safe himself. He too drew his
sword off his back. At this point, he noticed, from behind
the feline, the tiger whipped back the flap of his tent and
starred out at the battle.
	The brown cat swung again, coming closer then
before and slamming into the ground. Trakt could see that
the anger inside the feline was clouding his judgment. He
was leaving himself too open and Trakt knew he had a
chance against him. Swinging his broad sword, it connected
with the cat's blade and was pushed back. Trakt too pushed
back with his feet, missing the third swing of the cat's
sword.
	Trakt swung again.
	It missed the cat and dug into the trunk of the oak.
He pulled at his sword, but it remained stuck, the blade
buried in the wood.
	Again the feline wasted no time lunging at Trakt. He
felt as the cat's sword slammed into the lower half of his
blade.
	Trakt had little choice but to release his grip and roll
back away from the cat.
	By now Trakt had lost track of the tiger. He could
have returned to his tent to retrieve his weapon and then
Trakt would surly be dead.
	The sword smashed into the ground, a cloud of dirt
sent into the air.
	Trakt coughed and was blinded for a moment until
the sword sliced through the haze nearly striking his head.
The cat swung the sword around and before he knew what
happened Trakt had lunged at his legs with full force.
	The feline's body toppled over Trakt's. The curved
sword struck hard into the fire pit sending burning ashes
into the air. The fire had dimmed slightly. Trakt could
hardly see the cat, save his eyes which glowed yellow
reflecting the fire's light. He watched the cat for a moment
when he realized that he wasn't going to attack.
	The tiger came from behind Trakt both arms
wrapping around Trakt's shoulders and pulling back. Trakt
was completely open to attack from the brown cat.
	And attack he did. His fist came from the darkness
and slammed into Trakt's chest. The wind now knocked
from him, the cat continued to beat at Trakt's chest.
	When the cat stopped, Trakt was gasping for air.
The tiger continued to hold Trakt back, but he knew it he
wouldn't be held back much longer. In front of him the
feline had picked up his sword from the fire and gripped it
firmly with both hands. Trakt would be dead soon.
	The cat pointed the sword inches from Trakt's
throat, swung back and Trakt's foot kicked up and
connected with the feline's crotch, hard.
	The brown cat slumped over a moment before
collapsing backwards. His head smacked into the tree and
he twitched a moment, then relaxed.
	The tiger threw Trakt from his grip and he landing,
chest first, onto the dying fire. He felt the ashes burn at his
skin and rolled off.
	The fire was dead. It would take a few seconds for
Trakt's eyes to adjust to the night, but it would also take a
few seconds for the felines to kill him.
	He could hear them move around in the dirt, but not
see them. Trakt slowly backed away from where he had
seen them last, scrapping the ground with his hind paws. He
gripped the handle of his curved dagger and slid it out from
under his cloth. He held the blade firmly in his hands,
pointed out in front of him.
	He heard a cry from one of the cats and then, for a
brief instance, the moon hit the feline's eyes perfectly and
Trakt knew he was running at him.
	Trakt swung the blade through the air and felt as it
caught something a moment, then slid free.
	A cry, nothing Trakt had ever heard before, echoed
from the lips of the tiger. He heard the body topple over in
the dirt.
	Trakt paused a moment. With each breath he took,
his chest stung, but it was not over. Still the brown cat lay
against the tree, possibly unconscious. His eyes having fully
adjusted to the darkness, Trakt walked to the tree.
	The brown cat was not there.
	Trakt swung his head left and right then circled
around.
	The brown cat had gone out of sight.
	He gripped the blade firmly and listened.
	In the distance he could hear and owl and from the
grass came the chirping of crickets, but nothing more.
	Having slipped the curved dagger back into his
cincture, he grabbed the hilt of his sword still lodged in the
tree and pulled back.
	The sword ripped lose, but not without tearing away
bits of the tree's bark. Trakt carried the sword in his hands.
He knew the brown cat couldn't be far away and was
probably waiting in the tall grass like he had done before,
stalking Trakt. But Trakt could not let the croc stay latched
to the post any longer. He held his sword over his head and
swung down hard against the shackles. They broke
instantly. The croc girl was now free from her bonds.
	The attack came from behind.
	He felt the cat's elbow strike the ribs on his back.
Trakt flinched in pain and fell down on all fours. It was not
over. The feline hit his shoulder hard and Trakt's elbow
buckled. He toppled over on his left side. The cat was
relentless. He slammed his foot into Trakt's arm, causing
him to release his grip on the broadsword then kicked down
on his chest where it hurt already from the blows before. He
kicked hard into Trakt's side sending pain across his ribs and
he finally kicked Trakt in the crotch like mirroring what had
been done to him.
	Trakt rolled into a ball. Pain surged through his
body. The cat watched over him a moment. He bent down
and plucked his curved sword which lay next to the tree. He
turned back to face Trakt who still lay on the ground.
	"This was too easy," the cat remarked. His deep
voice would be the last thing Trakt remembered as he
swung the sword back.
	The feline wasn't ready for a punch from behind. It
caught him off guard and he stumbled forward a bit.
Regaining his footing, he turned.
	The croc had punched him. A meager attempt at
saving her savior. It was useless.
	The brown cat pushed her away and she tripped
over the body of the gray cat. He turned back to Trakt
ready to finish him, but his eyes widened as he watched the
fierce blade of Trakt's broadsword thrusted at him. The
blade entered the cat's chest and exited through his back.
Blood spurted into the air. The feline was stunned. He
looked down upon the cold steel which penetrated his dome
and the blood which slide down his body. The sword
dropped from his hand and he gave a final gasp for air
before his body went limp. Trakt hadn't the strength to keep
the body up, so he released his grip of the sword and it
came crashing to the ground with the corpse.
	He pushed himself up from the ground and looked
over at the croc. She looked shocked, as if the other two
felines had not likewise been killed before her eyes. He
looked at her a moment longer and she finally looked away
from the body and met with his eyes.
	Exhausted, Trakt fell back to the ground and soon
he was sleeping underneath the sky, blanketed by stars.