Blackjack Wayward - By Ben Bequer Page 0,4

my expense. Stepping closer, I came right up to the captain and pointed at the big fellow again, then at myself. Then I smashed two fists together.

“I fight him,” I said. “I win, you let me go.”

There was no emotion from the green thing. It was more concerned with a small bit of moss at his feet.

The captain smiled and cocked one eyebrow, revealing a playful streak. She spoke in a strange and melodic tongue, reminiscent of the French language in its fluid elegance. But I couldn’t understand anything she said. The crew laughed as she finished, then, explaining to me with physical gestures as one would a small child, she agreed, but she pointed at the big green bastard and shook her head, instead stepping aside to reveal the meanest sonofabitch I have ever seen in my life.

The captain’s champion was a creature of death, its face stricken in a rictus grimace of partially denuded bone, lacking lips to cover his toothy maw, too little flesh spread over a massive skull, staring at me with a trio of emerald eyes that were like chiseled stone alit in flame. While not as imposing as the warrior I had chosen, this fellow was almost as tall as I was, with a long, stringy mane of oily hair spilling down his back like a cloak. His armor was more medieval than futuristic, unpolished and damaged, with shoulder spikes that jutted forth, rotting skulls impaled on them, trophies that boasted his prowess. His right arm was a vascular river delta wrapped around raw muscle with which he wielded a two-handed mace carved from heavy bone and adorned with bits of dried blood and flesh. The handle was wrapped with rotted skin, and a ten-inch spike projected from the working end. His other arm was vestigial, half the size of his muscled right, but with it my opponent wielded an armored claw that was almost camouflaged by his chest armor. He held back deceptively, as if inviting me to attack from that direction. But it was his lipless mouth that was most disturbing; a permanent drool of brownish pasty mass, like a mixture of peanut butter and crackers, spattered all over his beard, chin and chest. The congealed goo swayed in thick ropes as the creature attempted to talk with a hissing gruel, more like two rocks crushed against each other than a form of conversation. He had a stop-and-go gait, with an odd neck bob; his upper body was still every half-step, while his feet rushed to steady him.

“This the guy I have to beat?” I asked the Captain, and she smiled, replying in her language with what I figured was an affirmative.

They were an odd couple, the tall, elegant alien that led them standing beside the armored warrior, savage and feral. She was confident, and why shouldn’t she be? Her champion was a juggernaut, built low and strong, a veteran of countless battles, and undoubtedly undefeated in single-man combat.

The Captain said something the others found hilarious, and it goaded them to start their terrible death chant again, inciting their warrior and trying to intimidate me. But my attention was steeled on the three-hundred-pound monster that ambled closer to me. I wasn’t fooled by his old-man shuffle walk for one damned second. It was a lie, more trickery from a foe I wasn’t about to underestimate. I stepped forward and the crew circled around, forming an arena for our impending combat.

I had not used my strength in over a year, kept mostly in shackles under power dampeners, and now I had to fight for my life, weaponless, against a foe as imposing as any I had encountered. He scampered closer, working the crowd and reveling in their adulation. To his companions, this fight was a foregone conclusion. A smallish imp-like female wormed through the throng carrying an open wooden case into which the crew would throw stone coins and receive a wooden chit to quantify their bet. I doubt many put money on me. The imp came into the impromptu arena, moving with a graceful gait that accentuated her shapely figure, to the cheers and roars of all those gathered. Their warrior and I were of no concern to the crowd amid the beauty’s enrapturing moves.

She strolled into the no man’s land between her crewmate and me and spoke in a language as strange as any I had ever heard. Her voice was as seductive as her pose and demeanor, and she worked

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