Maverick dommer's Arc

Chapter 2 of 8

Maverick had a home now. What he needed was a mate. But no woman would enter this grove while a killer waited at the door. The beast came at dusk. Maverick heard it first, claws scraping stone outside the arched entrance. He looked through a round window. The glowing caps had shifted to a warning red as clouds rolled in, and their light spilled across the thing prowling below. It was huge. Its body ran long and low like a lizard's, but thick plates armored its back and sides. Six trunk-like legs carried its weight. A barbed tail dragged behind it. The creature lifted its snout toward the glow and opened a mouth full of teeth. It had followed the light. It meant to stay. Maverick's plan for courting could wait. No mate would follow him here while this thing hunted his door. He had to kill it or drive it off tonight. He took no spear. Against those plates a spear would snap. He looked at the well in the corner, its wide cap roof over clear water, and the wooden pillars that held it. He set two hands on one pillar and pulled. The wood cracked free. Now he had a club as thick as his leg. Maverick shoved the door open and stepped out. The beast swung its head toward him and hissed. It charged. Its legs pounded the ground. Maverick did not run. He waited until the snout nearly reached him, then dove aside. Teeth snapped shut on empty air. He swung the pillar down onto its skull. The blow cracked loud. The beast staggered but did not fall. Its tail whipped around. A barb tore across his ribs. Blood ran down his side. Maverick grabbed the tail with his lower two hands and heaved. The creature's back legs left the ground. He spun and drove it into the stone wall of the grove. Plates buckled. The beast screamed. It scrambled up, dazed, and Maverick struck again, both upper arms behind the pillar. The wood shattered on its skull. The creature dropped. It lay still, then dragged itself upright and fled into the dark, tail limp behind it. Maverick stood in the red light, chest heaving. The wound at his ribs stung. He pressed a hand to it and felt the bleeding slow. The beast was gone. It would not come back soon. He looked at the broken well. One pillar lay in splinters. He would have to mend it before the roof sagged into the water. But the door was safe. The grove was safe. Maverick washed his wound in the clean water. As the caps faded from red toward calm blue, he thought again of the empty rooms behind him. The threat was gone. Now nothing stood between him and the true problem. He had a safe home and no one to share it. Tomorrow he would leave the grove and search the valley for a mate.