Chicken Stroll
Part Eleven
If looks alone could have done the job, the lock to the chicken enclosure would have been melted into a sad pile of metal mush by now, Dekaras thought. It wasn't even as if it was a complex lock, that was the humiliating part. In his normal body, he could have picked it in his sleep, using only a hairpin. In a chicken body, it had so far proved an insurmountable obstacle. Try again. Have to try one more time. Once again, he took a few step backwards to gain speed, then flapped into the air. He couldn't get high enough to get across the fence, but he could fly high enough to reach the lock. Or rather, he would have been able to reach the lock if he could have got close to it. Unfortunately, wings were a sad substitute for arms when it came to clinging to a fence, and they kept getting in the way. He could grip the fence with his claws, but then he couldn't get close enough with his head to reach the lock, since he had to flap his wings to keep his balance. However... Grimly, the transformed assassin clung to the fence with his feet, and this time he used his beak as well. Yes! Finally! Then, an unpleasant realization, one that his worry over Edwin and Andorel had so far kept him from making, came to him. With both claws and beak occupied, there was no way he could manipulate the lock.
“'amn 'useless 'ings...” he muttered, and then flew down to the ground again.
“At least you could get a good look at the lock,” Nalia said. “I never managed that. What is it like?”
“Nothing special,” Dekaras said. “A plain 'Farmer's Friend', the old and unrefined type too. If I could only manipulate it, I could have us all out of here in no time at all.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, that is currently not an option, but we may yet come up with a way to achieve it. How did things go for you?”
“No good,” Nalia said, showing him a few shallow scratches on the ground. “The ground here is hard, digging would take ages, even if we don't strike rock a foot down. I don't think we'll...”
Then she fell silent, and her eyes widened with fear. “Edwin? Edwin, no! What are you doing, you idiot!”
***
The two roosters tumbled out onto hard-packed ground. Edwin picked himself up, and shook the dust out of his feathers carefully. Hmm. One claw was broken. Nothing he could do about it now, he supposed...
“Uh, Edwin?”
“What? What is it?” He clucked in annoyance, and then looked up. His first impression was of legs and muddy boots, in a circle around them. Further up was a mass of faces, all angles and chins from his position. Huge, meaty fists were being waved at them, and there was a low-pitched rumbling- cheering?
“Did you ever go into the back rooms at the Copper Coronet?” Andorel asked carefully, backing into the centre of the ring.
“What? No! Of course not! What would I want with a cheap brothel like that? (They charged more than I could afford, anyway)”
“Not that! I meant the fighting rings...ya know, where they pitched people an' animals against each other.”
“A pointless activity. Did I ever see a single powerful spell cast there? No!”
“I think we're supposed to fight each other.” Edwin looked around himself again. The revolting creature was right, no question. It always irked Edwin when the obviously stupid half-orc managed to out-think him. Not that he ever did, of course, Edwin had merely been distracted.
“I'm not fighting you! I would undoubtedly catch something from that lice-infested hide of yours.”
“Uh, Eddie? That guy over there has got an axe. A sharp one. I don't think we have much choice.”
Edwin pondered for a few seconds, wondering if he could somehow manoevre them into chopping Andorel's head off and leaving his own self intact, but then another thought occured to him. “Teacher Dekaras would not approve of this.”
“I think we're gonna haveta pretend for the audience. Y'know, playfight, like when we were kids.” Edwin looked blank.
“Playfight?” Andorel flicked the green crest out of his eye, and gave Edwin a hard look. “You never scrapped with other kids?”
“No. I had little in common with the children the same age as I. Imbeciles, all of them.”
“Yeah. You would think that, wouldn't ya?” Andorel replied acidly. “We've gotta pretend to fight, or they'll axe us! Look, you do it like this...” The large rooster launched himself at Edwin.
***
Nalia staggered back. “Someone hit him!” Her head whipped sideways. “He's fighting! A cockfight- they're in a cockfight!”
“Cockfight?!” Dekaras spat the word out in a hoarse croak. He'd seen cockfights, and knew what a distasteful spectacle it was - death for entertainment, rather than as a means to an end. “Edwin and Andorel? Against each other?” Please say no. Please say no.
“Yes!” Nalia said, sounding just as desperate as he felt. “And they're...” She suddenly gave a muffled squawk, staggering backwards, and likely would have toppled onto her back if the assassin hadn't given her a steadying nudge in the right direction. “...really pounding each other,” she finished.
***
The second time Andorel came at him, Edwin wasn't as taken by surprise. Still, the other rooster's greater bulk was a serious problem, and only a swift flapping of his wings saved him from an undignified sprawl in the dirt. Hm. Flying. Yes, that would be a strategy worthy of my genius. He half hopped, half flew towards Andorel, wings spread out. The large rooster with the green crest stood his ground, a smug look in his eyes.
“Better be careful, Eddie,” he former half-orc warned, lowering his head. “Wouldn't want to have to really hurt ya in order to finish this. Don't worry, I'll only beat you up just 'nuff to make it all look convincing.” He flopped his comb out of his eyes in a way that could only be described as...cocky. “All right, maybe just a little bit more than just enough.”
It suddenly came to Edwin that the infuriating imbecile actually expected him, Edwin Odesseiron, to be the loser of this sordid little show. Expected him to give in and let himself get mauled in order for Andorel to stand triumphant. A rasping sound, like a fork being dragged across a dinnerplate, emerged from his throat. “So...” he said. “That is your plan, is it? To humiliate me in order to make yourself look better to...to usurp MY rightful place!”
“Uh...Eddie?”
“Oh, don't give me that! I know exactly what you're up to, you oafish clod! But you won't get away with it!” Andorel scoffed, and before the red rooster had the time to react he flew at him again, throwing him flat on his back in the dust, pinning him down.
“Oh, just shut it, ya idiot! Figures you'd only think of yerself, like the selfish bastard you are.” He lowered his head a little, glaring at Edwin with what now seemed to be true anger. “Shame Vaddy can't see you right now - he might wash his hands of ya for good, and that'd do him a world o' good.”
Fury, murderous, scarlet fury flooded Edwin's entire mind, making him see the world through a red haze, and the rooster body responded in kind, all muscles tensing, feathers rising as fear, rage and pure jealousy worked their murderous will on what little sense remained to him. Common sense lost the battle in about three seconds. Edwin's beak opened, there was a hissing noise, and then a scream of rage.
“NO! MIIIIIIIIIIIINE!” Then, he brought his spurred feet up in a sharp, stabbing, lethally efficient motion. Around the ring, the cheers rose to a loud and bloodthirsty roar.
***
Nalia's eyes widened in fear. “He's angry, Vadrak! He's really angry. I think he could...” Nalia fell back, and this time did end up sprawling in the dust. “No!” She shouted, oblivious to the fact that Dekaras could hear her. “Don't fight, stop fighting, stop fighting now! Listen to me!”
Dekaras could only stand and watch, his head bobbing in avian nervousness. He had always relied heavily on his ability to concoct a plan for any situation, but here, he was truly useless, and he didn't like it one bit. His chest constricted with panic, and he found it harder and harder to breathe, his breath whistling through his beak. No. I do not panic. Panic is unnecessary. Be calm, and think.
Nalia squawked in sudden pain and flapped her wings to keep her balance. “Why are they doing this?” She gasped, beak gaping with pain. “They always argue...but not like this!” She looked up at the assassin, begging him for an answer as another stripe of pain hit her.
Dekaras looked down at the despairing white hen. The answer seemed
obvious to him. Roosters are territorial, and they're fighting over you, Nalia. They must be.
Nalia looked into the assassin's dark eye, and realised what the reason must be: Roosters are territorial, and they're fighting over you, Vadrak. They must be.
Dekaras reached down to his soul-link with Andorel, and tried, as hard as he could, to persuade him to stop fighting, to leave his anger behind and act like a human- or, at least, a half-orc, again. But, where he could normally 'feel' Andorel's soul, there was now just a feeling of...blankness.
Nalia dropped her head slowly, closing her eyes. “He's...he's not angry now. He's pleased. I think...he won.”
Dekaras simply felt cold, icy cold. The world seemed to slow down around him, and the sounds of the other chickens were muffled and far away. The worse part of it was that there was a bit of him that was hugely relieved that it was Andorel that had lost the fight, and not Edwin.
***
The red dropped away from Edwin's vision, and he hissed in triumph over
the enemy rooster. No longer would it invade...his...territory...oh. He blinked, and swallowed uncertainly. Gods...they are going to be livid! Andorel lay on his side, his long turkey neck stretched out, brown blood sticking his feathers together- those on his body, and those scattered in clumps around the sandy ring. There were other spatters of blood around- mostly brown, but with the occasional patch of red. Andorel's eyes were shut, and he wasn't moving. Edwin realised though, with a surge of relief, that his chest was still rising and falling. Thank the Gods for that- if he was dead, I don't think Teacher Dekaras or Nalia would ever talk to me again.
Then, a extremely distasteful thought occured to him. I suppose I have to..rescue him now.
***
The spectators had all cleared off now, and the bets had been paid. Satisfied with the nice net result, Thom walked towards the two chickens, meaning to clear off the corpse. It had been a great fight - nice and bloody. Also, most folks had expected the big mutant to win, so the fact that the ferocious red had given him such a good licking meant nice earnings. Should put him up against the black one next time, Thom
thought. Now that would be a fight to see, I bet.
Pleasantly contemplating that, he reached for the large chicken lying on the ground, and then shrieked as a sharp beak stabbed into his hand, drawing blood. The red rooster was standing over his fallen enemy, hissing angrily. Eyes wide, Thom took a step backwards, clutching his dripping hand to his mouth. It's just worked up from the battle, he tried telling himself. That's all it is. But in that case, why was the bird seemingly defending the other one?
And then it happened.
The fallen rooster suddenly twitched a little, and then there was a faint blue light enveloping it from head to toes. Thom's breathing was a ragged whistle through his nose as he saw some of the wounds slowly closing, skin and tissue knitting themselves together magically.
The light had hardly faded before it flared up again, and now the chicken was staggering clumsily to its feet, bleeding no longer. It turned its head to look at him, and let out a tired squawk. As Thom started screaming his lungs out, there was only one thought in his head. Magic chickens! Magic chickens!
