Preordained

Preordained.

Just because it has already been woven does not mean that is how it will be.

There is no sex in this story.

The blade moved smoothly across his skin with no drag or pull, the sword shaving the hairs off his arm better than any razor. Satisfied with the blades sharpness he sheathed his sword. Having finished mending his battered armor as best he could and seeing to his blades he looked after himself. With water heated in a small iron pot over his campfire he scrubbed himself down cleaning and rewrapping his wounds in the process.

Using a highly polish bit of metal he set to trimming his beard and hair. Looking at his reflection he saw a lot of gray, his beard, hair and eyes. His face would have been more wrinkled had it not already been heavily scarred. Finished with his grooming he glanced at the sky an estimated he had another two hours till sundown so he pulled out the last of his food, a few strips of salted horse meat, and began to eat while awaiting his expected guest.

His quest had begun three weeks ago. As a senior warrior in the kingdom he had been dispatched on a mission to deal with a beast that had been ravaging the remote farms and settlements of the North region. The beast had been feasting on both human and livestock causing an exodus from the area.

The King's command had been clear, destroy the beast. Why send only one warrior? Well there was only one beast and he was arguably the best warrior and certainly the most experienced. At least that is what the King told him.

For sixteen days he had tracked the beast catching only occasional fleeting glimpses of it as he followed it deeper into the unexplored Norr Forest. By day two he was convinced that the beast was deliberately drawing him deeper into the forest and further away from any assistance. During his pursuit the weather grew colder; no snow yet but in the morning it was bitterly cold and everything was covered with frost. The vegetation under his feet crunched when he walked upon it being brittle with frost. During this time the warrior had noticed there was no wind, not even the slightest breeze and the sky was perpetually overcast. The nights were dark as a mine without the stars and moon to provide light. His only fires were small ones. He built one in the evenings to fix himself a warm meal after which he put it out and traveled for another hour before settling in for the night into the cold dark camp of a warrior. He did not feel the need to advertise his exact resting location to the beast with a fire and the smell of food. He also did not need a fire degrading ability to see in the darkness. He had a fire in the morning to warm himself.

The game began to decrease till finally there was none; not a deer, rabbit, bird or even a squirrel did he see. He also thought that it was odd that he had found no sign that the beast was stopping to feed. He began to become concerned about his own food supply since there had been no opportunity to replenish it by hunting.

Five days ago the beast attacked. He had been forced to dismount because of terrain and had been following the beast on foot for hours and it was near dark when it attacked. With a roar it had leaped at him from the high rocks that were above and behind. Being an experienced warrior and recognizing an ambush situation he was prepared. He swung around quickly planting his spear shaft firmly into the ground. The beast having already launched itself at him could not change course in mid-air was impaled on the spear. The beast's massive weight drove the spear through its breastbone, heart and then spine ending with the half the spear protruding from its back when it finally came to rest on top of the warrior. It was dead almost instantly.

So heavy was the beast that it took the warrior a full five minutes to free himself from under its dead body. This was his first good look at the beast. The fleeing peasants' descriptions we varied and, as was normally the case, widely exaggerated. Their descriptions had been of a creature anywhere from twenty to fifty feet tall that resembled either a two legged wolf or bear with massive claws and teeth. The one description that was universal was its eyes of fire. He knew from tracking it that it always moved about on two feet.

The warrior examined the beast before him. It was about the size of the larger white bears of the north but its torso, arms and legs were closer to that of a man except for the matted grey and brown fur and the long claws at the end of its hands and feet. He could also see that it was a very muscular animal despite the fur covering it. The beasts head resembled that of a large wolf though the teeth were longer and more closely set together. Its eyes were solid red orbs that seem to glow even in death. It did not escape his notice that if the creature's arms were but a sword hilt longer it would have sunk its claws into him before his spear had done its job.

He contemplated taking the creatures head with him but that was a lot dead weight to be carrying and he had far to travel so he settled for its hands. He returned to where he had his horses tied; a war horse and a pack animal. As it was quite late he went without a fire and made another cold dark camp. The next morning he hiked back up to where he had left the beast body only to find it gone. He checked and found the hands he had taken were also gone. All that remained was a dark spot on the ground where its blood had seeped into the soil. The tracks showed that it had not been dragged off by scavenging wolves or bears but had walked off on its own. Even more disconcerting was the second set of tracks, similar to the beast's that left with it. He could not see where the second set of tracks had come from to join the beast but there were definitely two sets that departed. He followed the tracks for the better part of the day before he lost them in the rocky terrain and diming light. It was almost dark when he had returned to his camp and the beasts attacked. One went straight for his horses while the other attacked him.

The pack animal was beheaded with a single swiped of the beast's claws. His war horse gave a better account of itself kicking and biting at the beast before it was disemboweled as it was rearing up.

The warrior charged the other beast with his spear but it grabbed the shaft and snapped off the spear head. Tossing aside the now useless spear he drew his sword and continued to pressed his attack. This seemed to catch the beast by surprise as it back peddled to try and gain some space. It tripped over some rocks and as it was falling the warrior planted his sword in its skull like a cleaver. The second beast seeing the other one go down launched itself at the warrior from a distance of 30 feet. The warrior ducked underneath the beasts hurtling body at the same time drawing his knife from his boot and thrusting it up. The second beast was disemboweled in a manner similar to the war horse.

He made his way over to what was left of his scattered supplies and pulled out a torch. It took some time to get it lit in the darkness because of the horses blood on it but once lit he examined the beasts' bodies. The one he had killed first had the markings of healed wound centered in its chest and back. This was the one he thought he had killed earlier. He sat back to recall the old legends of various monsters and demons and what one had to do to destroy them. He could recall no tale of such creatures he now faced so he decided to improvise.

He built a large fire then severed the heads of each beast from its body and threw the heads into the fire. He piled tender and wood around the bodies of each beast, as they were too heavy to drag to the fire. He ignited both piles of wood and watch as the bodies burned.

He gathered up a few supplies and moved up into the nearby rocks watching the fires burn down from a distance. He woke the next morning to find himself and everything else covered in a light dusting of snow. He shook the snow of his muskox cloak and moved down to where the fires had been. He found nothing but ashes, the remains of his horses and supplies. He poked around the ashes and found no sign of the beast remains, no bones or anything. He did find four separate sets of the beasts' tracks leaving the scene. This time he did not attempt to follow.

He sat down to prepare a meal and think. He had several problems. First was that his enemy was no dumb beast but had some intelligence. They had drawn him deep into their own territory where he could not receive assistance. Once doing so they killed his horses trapping him here for he could not walkout through the forest as long they lived to hunt him down. He was trapped here at the only defensible terrain till he killed them all.....or they him.

Second was that while he could kill them they did not stay dead and seem to double in number after they returned to life.

Third, they seem to have their limitations. They only attacked in the dark or near dark, not the light of day. They also seem use to attacking but not being attacked. He could attempt to track them and kill them during daylight but they seem too smart to let that happen. Yesterday they seem to deliberately wear him down tracking them and then followed him back to attack him as night fell.

He finished his meager rations and began to gather his scattered supplies. It took two trips but he was able to find a place high up in the rocks accessible only up through a single narrow path. He was surprised that the beast had not feasted upon the remains of his horses. The cold had preserved their carcasses so he cut off some meat to supplement his meager supplies. He was no overly fond of horse flesh but it beat starving. He used the reaming salt from his supplies to preserve what he had cut from the horses.

He had retrieved the head from his broken spear and fashioned a new shaft from the forest. He also cut four more shafts, sharpening the ends and hardening them in the fire. He figured he would need the reach advantage. He inventoried his weapons; besides the spear and four make shift spears. He had his sword, a three foot straight sword with a rounded tip, making it safer to use from horseback. His knife was also a straight blade with an 8 inch blade. He had a simple wooden bow and 17 arrows. He was not particularly skilled with it but it came in handy for hunting. He assumed he would be engaging the creatures at close range so he would not have to be particularly skilled to get a hit. The darkness, woods and surrounding terrain ruled out any chance of long range shots.

His protection was a coat of plate armor, alternating strips of metal and leather sewed together with a wool shirt worn underneath as padding and for warmth. A skull cap helmet with leather hanging down covering the neck and ears offered protection for his head. He also had a simple two foot wooden shield.

Both weapons and his armor were unadorned with jewels, or precious metals. He was after all a warrior not some perfumed prince of the court or southern realms. His armaments were not for decoration but for battle.

Unusual for his people was the lack of inscriptions or decorations on his armaments offering prayers to and praising their Gods. He maintained it was better for a warrior to use his time training and perfecting his skills than to offer prayers that may never be heard much less answered. A strong sword arm was better than a prayer he often said.

That this was upsetting too many, particularly the temple priests, was to be expected and there were whispers of blasphemy and even heresy. However his skills as a warrior made him of more value to the kingdom than his apparent lack of faith and he made sure to attend all the required observances and ceremonies. The truth is that there are no non-believers on the field of battle and he would offer his own silent prayers as he headed off into battle.

There were two more attacks by the beasts. The first was relatively easy to counter. The beasts came up the narrow trail he could hear their approach by the growls and snarls and soon was able to see their red glowing eyes. This gave him a place aim his arrows. He was not a skilled archer but the eyes gave him a reference to put his arrows were he guessed center of their body mass would and he was shooting at 50 yards or less. Through a combination of arrows and spear he was able to kill all for beasts. The narrow path forced them to engage him one at a time. One thing was obvious; one on one he was a match for the demons.

At the end of the battle he retrieved his arrows, dismembered the bodies of the beasts tossing them into a deep ravine hoping that would be the end of them. The next day he replenished his water form a nearby stream and hauled up more fire wood for his fire. He spent time trying to figure a way to permanently kill the beasts. He could think of no solution.

The second attack went worse. There were eight beasts this time. He killed six in the path but two managed to force their way out of the pass and into his campsite. As a skilled warrior he maneuvered to keep both in front of him and as best he could one in front of the other to keep them from both attacking him at once and from different directions. This meant he had to attack. He was able to successfully dispatch both of them but only at great cost. His shield was destroyed, his plate armor coat shredded and his right leg severely injured. He was now out of arrows and spears. After bandaging his wounds he only disposed of the two bodies in his campsite knowing the ones I the pass would be gone in the morning. Besides his injured right leg barely supported his body weight and he could not make it over the rough terrain of the path.

As he sat eating an awaiting the visitor he took stock of his situation. He was down to a sword, knife, battered body armor and helmet. He had bandaged his right leg so that it now supported his body weight, barely, but he could not bend the leg and he was far less mobile. He was out of food and he could not make it down to the stream to replenish his water carriers.

It was then that the expected visitor appeared in his camp. The warrior stood gave a slight bow and said "please take a seat" pointing to a log near the fire "May I offer you some mead?"

The visitor shook his head remaining where he was saying "I am not such that I would take the last of a man's mead" looking at the almost empty carrier.

The visitor was seven foot tall, clad head to toe is silver full plate armor. Over this he was draped in a cloak of raven feathers and a raven feather plume on his helmet. "You act as if you were expecting me?"

"Not you in particular, a messenger of Death, but I figured some explanation would be forthcoming before I died. After all what would be the point of all this?. This is obviously part of some plan." He then sat down on the log. "Not to be an ungracious host but I need to rest my leg for I will need it soon so I must sit."

"Of course do not worry about offending me. You might say I am one of your admirers".

The warrior looked at him in surprise. "Admire, then why all this?"

"Well, you have only yourself to blame for all this."

"Me? Are the Gods offended because I refuse to dress up my weapons and pay homage; could they not just simply strike me down?"

"Nothing so simple, your offense is your refusal to die."

A look of confusion washed over the warriors face as Death's Messenger explained further.

"When Fate wove the tapestry of your life you were to perish during the raids on the Western Islands, during the storming of the Tjoryan castle. Remember you were the first through the breach in the wall. You should have died there but you did not. You took couple of arrows but you fought on and survived."

"But that was over two years ago, there have been many battles and hazardous journeys since then."

"Exactly, and you have refused to die each time. Fate has been forced to reweave your tapestry more than once. Your stubbornness have even caused some of the other Gods too question her powers and to call for you be struck down immediately. You have been the cause of much consternation, frustration and debate among the Gods."

"So why all this, why not simply strike me down?"

"Believe me there were many calling for just that, Death foremost. You have caused not only your tapestry to be rewoven but that of many others you have done battle with. You have called the power of the Gods into question amongst themselves. But Fate was most insistent that if you would not die where and when she ordained you would at least die how she ordained, with a sword in your hand."

The messenger recalled to himself the controversy this warrior had created. Fate and Death traded accusations that the other had failed to do their part. Death claiming Fate had failed to set the warriors demise correctly while Fate claimed Death had failed to harvest him as he should. Other Gods whispered among themselves that perhaps the other two Gods were losing their touch. The Messenger noted that Death's protests were only made half heartily while the other Gods never openly questioned Fate's power. Even the Great Father showed some difference to Fate that he did not show to the others.

When others including Death demanded that the warrior be simply struck down the Great Father listened to Fate's protests and it was her, not requests but demands, that held sway. But even his patience was limited. For two years this warrior had defied what had been ordained. The Warrior had become a sport that captured the attention of all the Gods to the extent that they were betting among themselves each time his death was presumed to be imminent. The Great Father hated nothing more than the disruption of what he considered the routine order of things so he finally told Fate that he personally would see to the warrior's death and told her how to weave the tapestry.

"But why take so long, it has been two years?" Asked the warrior.

"The Gods have not waited two years; you have just survived the other attempts. Some have become legendary. Such as when you single handedly held the crossing of the river Ljkori for two days against 300 raiders from the Eastern Steppes and your killing of the Frost Dragon in the Timber region. They have begun to sing songs about you in the taverns and halls."

The warrior recalled those fights and how he regarded it as a miracle he had survived. Even more so now that he realized that the Gods had deliberately stacked the odds against him. He also knew about the songs which were embarrassing as those songs were normally reserved only for Gods, Kings and dead heroes. He had stopped going to the taverns and halls because of them. They sort of made sense now as he as supposed to be dead already. Something occurred to him.

"How are you sure that I will not survive this fight?"

"Because the Great Father has run out of patience and set this up himself. He planted the jealously in your King's mind so that he would send you out alone in hopes you would perish on this quest. These creatures are a creation of the Great Father."

"So there is no way to kill them?"

The Messenger smiled, Yes, there is but I cannot tell you and once they have served their purpose they will vanish unless the Great Father has need of them again"

"What is to become of me after all this "

"You need not be concerned, only Death and a couple of the other Gods that have lost a great deal betting against you hold any ill will toward you. The Great Father has decreed that your place in the Great Hall is secure and the tapestry of your life will be hung from the wall of heroes. No act of retribution is to be taken against you. It would seem that even Fate has no hard feelings toward you as she is completing your tapestry with her finest thread and I have heard her singing the songs about you as she weaves it, a rare honor indeed."