Upon a Savage Shore Ch. 17

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The castaways are wronged and there is a reckoning.
5.2k words
4.85
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Part 17 of the 23 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 06/29/2014
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RipperFish
RipperFish
2,508 Followers

Author's note 9-1-2014: Chapter 22 is well underway and I feel like I'm on a downhill run for the finish line. Feeling good about my progress in last two days, I decided to submit this chapter a little ahead of schedule since the events contained in it will not affect any of the chapters I still have to write.

To anyone sending me emails or commenting anonymously, please be sure you include your Literotica penname if you want me to read something of yours or give you advice. Anonymous means anonymous on this site. I do not reply via email to any messages sent. I reply only through the contact function of Literotica. Call me paranoid, but that's how I roll.

Thanks again to everyone leaving comments or sending messages. Thanks in particular to the anonymous reader who alerted me to the issue with chapter 16. I've sent a message to LE admin and hopefully things will be straightened out soon.

*****

"Why do you wish me to do this?" M'pel E'kmel asked. Liam was seated on a stump under a tree in the orchard and she was standing behind him with the flint knife the chief of the nomads had given him the day before.

"Because it's been too long since I had a haircut or a shave," he said simply. "Just look at this mess. I'm a Marine. We have to maintain our grooming. And I would like to get this done before the girls get back from fishing, so please just get on with it."

"I think the beard suits you, Sergeant," she replied. "And there is nothing wrong with your hair except that it could use a good combing."

"I haven't had hair this long since I was in grade school," he moaned. "And I never liked beards. Mustaches either. Not my kind of thing."

"I strongly disagree," she said in a chiding tone. "You look vastly more handsome with both."

"Says the woman with a coat of fur," he sniped.

"You once told me you liked my fur," she said in a theatrically sulky voice. "Shall I shave it all off?"

"Oh come on," he sighed. "No. Don't shave your fur. Shave mine."

"Allow me a free hand for the moment and if you do not care for the results we can always shave you the way you prefer."

"A free hand?" he snorted. "You?"

"I must remind you that I have never shaved even the least bit of fur," she replied. "Do you really want me running such a fine edge over your flesh?"

Liam hadn't really thought about that. Likely, very few jZav'Etch had ever shaved anything. Maybe surgeons or nurses would have some experience, but the average jZav'Etch?

"Fine," he sighed. "Just... don't make me look, you know, stupid."

With a pleased purr and a flick of her tail, M'pel E'kmel began. She raked her claws lightly through Liam's hair until it lay smooth and neat. Then she used the stone blade to nick the ends off the longest and most straggly patches, giving shape and order to his hair. It did not look like the fur of a jZav'Etch by any stretch of the imagination, but it was now more presentable and suited the shape of his face. She hoped she could convince him to grow it out longer. There were male Thahn 'Den from a large island in the southern hemisphere of jZav that wore manes of wonderful, lush fur and Liam would look very attractive with his hair in that fashion.

His beard was much easier for her to attend to. It was stiffer than his hair and held its shape better. The stone blade had no difficulty making quick work of it. She brushed away the trimmings, humming happily. She had not groomed a male in many years and this was all the more enjoyable for the discomfort she had just put Sergeant Carter through.

"There," she said with a last rake of her claws through his beard, sprinkling a few more loose whiskers on the ground. "Done. Now, if your mates do not care for that, they have no taste in males."

"You didn't shave anything," Liam grumbled.

"I shaved the back of your neck and portions of your cheeks," she said sedately. "This is a very fine little knife. Nice of the chief to give it to you."

"I wanted a shave," Liam said. He was about to go on when the radio on M'pel E'kmel's hip beeped loudly and a panting squall of jZav'Etch came over it.

"What was that?" Liam demanded, forgetting his beard and haircut.

"Clot'ilda," M'pel E'kmel said and snatched the radio from her belt. "What is wrong? Are you injured?"

"Atttacked!" Clot'ilda said. "I'm hurt! Tem'Ma'tel is gone!"

"Where are you?" the commander asked. At her tone, Liam surged to his feet and she pulled him towards their stacked weapons.

"On the path," Clot'ilda gasped. "I can see the gate. Rover is carrying me."

"Are you pursued?" M'pel E'kmel asked, changing course for the gate.

"No. They took Tem'Ma'tel. I couldn't stop them."

"What the hell is going on?" Liam demanded as they got to the gate.

"She's injured," M'pel E'kmel said, hauling the heavy timber panels open in time to let Rover barrel through in a ground-eating lope. Nestled among his quills, Clot'ilda held on for dear life. The big creature slid to a stop, his claws scraping over the pavers of the plaza, and lay down rolling his shoulders to deposit the little Pah'Tht gently on the ground.

"Fuck!" Liam cursed dropping to his knees next to her. "Get a med kit! Now!"

Clot'ilda had a knot on the side of her head the size of a chicken's egg. Her eyes were open but glassy and there was a bolas wrapped around her shoulders and neck.

"Babydoll? Clot'ilda, can you hear me?" Liam asked desperately, unwinding the bolas.

"Liam," she said weakly and patted his thigh. "Tem'Ma'tel gone."

"Who did this?" he asked, though he was sure he already knew.

"They did," she said and pointed vaguely to the west.

"How is she?" M'pel E'kmel asked urgently, dropping to her knees next to him. She opened her medical kit and began examining the Pah'Tht's wound. Her ears suddenly laid back as if she were getting ready for a fight. A clear sign things were not well.

"Not good." Liam rose, checking his gun belt to be sure both EP 12s were in their holsters, and turned for the gate. "Take care of her. I'll be back as soon as I deal with this."

The commander rushed to cut him off, placing a strong hand on his chest.

"Sergeant! You can't kill them!" she said intently.

"The hell I can't," he growled. "I'll settle this, Commander. Get out of my way."

"You can't go alone," M'pel E'kmel said desperately. "There are too many of them. At least put on your armor."

"No time. They might already be torturing Tem'Ma'tel." Liam stepped forward, throwing off her hand and pushing her aside. He was forced to stop again when Rover cut him off. Liam was about to kick him, but Rover flexed the muscles in his back and the long quills on his shoulders spread. Rover snorted and looked at Liam.

"Get Clot'ilda patched up and lock this fucking gate," Liam said, straddling the big beast the way he would a horse. "We'll be back soon."

"Take a rifle!" M'pel E'kmel yelled after him, but he ignored her as Rover broke into a run.

***********

"What is happening?" demanded Seschiqal, coming out of his hut. "Why are the people shouting like this?"

"I don't know," said Sneisqlik, coming from his own hut. "Someone has just come into the kraal. Riders."

"It is Stilmnah," Seschiqal spat. He reached inside his hut and came out with his spear and club. "He has done something unwise."

"What do you mean?" asked Sneisqlik, but then he understood what his cousin meant. The huntsman and one of his hunters bore between them a ruddy furred creature like the one he had seen in the grass with the being on top of the hill. "He has broken the peace."

"I will break his head!" snarled Seschiqal. "Curse his horns! I will break every bone in his body."

"Cousin!" Sneisqlik said desperately, reaching out a restraining hand. "Think first. He challenges your decree. You may not simply attack him."

"The tribe will not object!" the chief snapped and tore away from his cousin.

"They might," Sneisqlik said rushing after him. "Look at how he encourages their spirit. He has brought in a thing unlike any they have ever seen. They will want to see it. They will think he is a great hunter for bringing it here. You must make plain to them why this is a bad thing!"

"I'll do that after I lay Stilmnah in the dirt."

"No, cousin! You must not. Heed me. The tribe will throw you down if you do this thing. Counter Stilmnah's challenge with words and then demand the tribe allow you to fight him. Kill him if you must, but only after the tribe agrees."

Seschiqal stopped in his tracks, breathing deeply. He wanted blood. His peace was broken. It was broken because a fool was offended by the creature on the hill. And as chief he must either restore the peace or abdicate to a more worthy leader.

"I will convince them, cousin," Seschiqal agreed. "I will teach them all a lesson. After I kill Stilmnah, you and I must repair the peace. If the thing on the hill comes to fight, we may all live to regret Stilmnah's foolishness."

***********

"What is it, mother?" Chhal asked.

"I do not know." Sscuha had never seen such an animal. In fact, she was not sure it was an animal. It appeared to be wearing clothing like the High Grass folk wore when the snows came. She thought it had breasts and the wide hips suggested it was female, but she could not be sure. What was plain was that the captive was dazed from a blow to its head. It could barely stand and its eyes could not focus on anything. "Where did it come from?"

"The Old Place," said a youthful voice behind her, hardly audible over the hoots and cheers of the rest of the tribe now gathered around Stilmnah, Qlikchissal and their captive.

"From the Old Place?" she asked, turning to find the young hunter, Stolk, looking worried, his ears laid behind his head and his lips popping nervously.

"Stilmnah has broken the peace the chief made with the thing on the hill," Stolk said, unable to tear his eyes from the spectacle. "This will be bad luck for the tribe."

Sscuha looked back to see that the huntsman was tying the dazed creature to the village hitching post. As soon as its hands were secured it slumped to the ground, blinking uncomprehendingly at the crowd. Instantly, children stepped forward and began jabbing it with sticks. Jeers and hoots of laughter rang out from the gathered crowd. Someone threw a stone, striking the poor thing in the chest. A foolish youth whirled and struck it with the butt end of a spear, then pranced away, strutting as if he had just slain a mighty beast. People hooted and whistled merrily at his antics.

"This is terrible," Sscuha said and took hold of her son, intending to leave these fools to their sport.

"I want to stay and watch, mother," Chhal protested.

"This is no thing for decent folk to watch," she scolded. "The chief comes in wrath. See him there?"

Chhal looked to where his mother pointed and indeed Seschiqal was striding through the crowd with his spear and club, his arms upraised.

"I should like to see the chief put Stilmnah in his place," Chhal said. "May we not stay?"

Sscuha hesitated, thinking her son had a point. Before she could decide, though, her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a strange creature striding into the kraal with a very large plainswalker at his side. She had never seen such a being before, but one thing seemed clear: It was angry.

***********

Liam strode into the crowd of Fauns as if he owned the ground on which they stood, Rover close on his heels. Several Fauns sprang away from him, alarmed at his sheer size compared to their slight frames. Others he pushed aside, knocking them to the ground or into their fellows, he didn't care. Rover snorted and used his long head to shove more nomads out of their way. When the two broke into the center where the hunters had tied Tem'Ma'tel to a post, Liam almost drew his pistols, but these were not evil people. They just needed an education in who not to fuck with.

Several adults snatched their children from the group poking Tem'Ma'tel with sticks and other kids had the good sense to flee at sight of the big creature and the plainswalker, but the youth who had pranced around after hitting Tem'Ma'tel with his spear decided to give Liam a shot, too. The marine caught the spear as it descended and yanked it from the boy's hands. Too surprised to react, the youth screamed when Liam grabbed him by a horn, spun him around and laid three quick blows across his back with the haft of the spear.

"I don't play that shit, boy," Liam growled then kicked the kid in the ass, sending him tumbling into the crowd.

By the time the youth scrambled to his hooves rubbing his injured backside, the crowd had backed off, leaving Liam and Rover at the center of a wide circle. The chief approached, placing himself between them and the hunters who had abducted Tem'Ma'tel. The chief evidently wanted to avoid trouble, but Liam didn't care. The hunters were responsible for this situation and if the chief couldn't control his people, Liam damn sure would.

"Tell them to let her go," Liam said grimly and pointed at his wife.

The chief looked at Tem'Ma'tel and then said something to the hunters. In their turn the hunters hooted and gestured at Liam, shaking their spears.

"Get out of my way, Chief," Liam said in a hard voice. "I don't want to hurt you. Just them."

The chief looked at him and then at the hunters. He snorted and flapped his long ears, stepping aside. The hunters frowned at that, but they brought up their spears, ready for a fight.

"Last chance, Elmer," Liam grated out. "You and Wile E there, step aside and nobody has to die."

The hunters shook their spears and chattered in response, apparently refusing to give up their captive. The expression that crossed Liam's face as he stepped forward could not accurately be called a smile. The hunter on the right, the one he'd dubbed Wile E, sprang at him, driving his spear at Liam's midsection. Liam slapped the thrust aside with the haft of his appropriated spear, stepped inside Wile E's guard and hammered a fist into his jaw. Wile E collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut and Liam turned to face Elmer who blinked at him incredulously.

Before the Faun could shake out of his surprise, Liam thrust his spear in a feint and closed the distance, but Elmer was quick on his feet. The hunter dodged back and sidestepped. Liam recovered his spear to guard in time to block Elmer's thrust, but took a kick to the ribs. He shrugged it off and reposted, jabbing at Elmer's face. Again the Faun was too quick, dodging to the side and following up with a jab of his own. Liam felt the flint tip pierce his side and turned out of the thrust, swinging the butt of his spear in a short, chopping arc, catching Elmer in the jaw.

As the Faun stumbled away, Liam glanced down at his side. Blood trickled out, soaking his shirt. It wasn't bad. He could patch it up when the fight was done.

Elmer came in again with a thrust at Liam's face this time, following up with a kick at his belly, but Liam was on to him now. He ducked his head to the side and brought his knee up to intercept the kick, then threw the butt of his spear into an upward arc that clipped Elmer on the chin, sending the hunter back a couple of steps. Liam recovered and drove in with a classic bayonet thrust only to have Elmer hop aside just in time. The Faun reversed his spear and came down with the point, meaning to skewer Liam through the neck. The hot sting of the flint point gouging his shoulder made Liam hiss as he evaded the worst of the strike. He flicked a backhand stroke of his spear at Elmer, but the hunter countered with another kick, splitting Liam's mouth open. More kicks, jabs and punches followed. The two exchanged a pair of spear thrusts, both drawing blood, but neither scoring a crippling wound. Elmer leapt into the air, kicking at Liam's head with both hooves and Liam barely avoided them, countering with a thrust of his spear that failed to sink home as Elmer twisted away.

Panting from all his exertions Elmer pressed his attack and made another thrust for Liam's chest. The marine turned it aside with his spear, but Elmer kicked him again. Before Liam could respond the Faun jabbed at his belly, forcing Liam to give ground. He stepped back, making space to recover his weapon and change his tactics. The Faun was too good at this sort of spear play to risk fighting on his terms. As the Faun came in again Liam ducked his head aside letting Elmer's point go by and brought up his knee to block another kick aimed at his groin. Liam crosschecked him with the haft of his spear, throwing the much lighter combatant backward into the crowd.

As Elmer scrambled to his hooves Liam spun, extending his spear and whipping it through a long arc that ended on the side of Elmer's head. The Faun bleated in surprise and pain as his cheek split open, but he didn't hesitate to attack. Liam dodged a flurry of jabs and thrusts, giving ground, waiting for the right opportunity. When he saw his opening he accepted a kick to his face in trade for a thrust of his spear, catching Elmer a grazing cut across the ribs. The Faun jumped back a full two meters and looked to his wound. That was what Liam had been hoping for. He dropped his spear and closed the distance, grabbing the hunter by his horns, yanking him forward and kicking him in the belly hard enough to break a board. Elmer folded in half. Liam slammed his knee into Elmer's face, two quick shots, and then threw him across the open space. Even as Elmer was struggling to get up, Liam grabbed his ankles. He hauled the hunter up and over his shoulder then with everything he had, Liam slammed him into the hard packed dirt. Like a three year old in a pillow fight, Liam whipped him back into the air and down again. Bones broke with every impact. Finally, when the hunter stopped bleating, Liam slammed him into the ground one last time, knelt on his chest and grabbed him by the horns.

"Did you think you'd get away with it?" Liam snarled, bloody spittle dribbling from his split lip to stain the Faun's fur. "Did you think I'd let it go? That I wouldn't do anything? You attacked my wives! You fucking piece of shit! Did you think I wouldn't kill you?"

The crack of Elmer's neck as Liam twisted his head over his shoulder sounded like the breaking of a thick branch in a storm. The tribe all stood silent and fearful. Hunters pushed the females and children behind them, holding their spears ready to defend their families as he rose to his full height and glared at them. Liam snorted back and spat blood and snot on the dead huntsman before going to Tem'Ma'tel. With a stroke of his long knife he parted the ropes holding her. Gently he lifted her chin, examining the lump on the side of her head. It wasn't as bad as Clot'ilda's, but it wasn't good. There was a second lump on the back of her head and Liam ground his teeth.

"Rover," he said. "Come here, boy. I need your help."

The big animal cast a warning look about the crowd of nomads and ambled across the open space to his friends. He flexed his quills out of the way, allowing the male to lay the big female on his back. To keep her from sliding off Rover flexed his quills tight around her and made to leave, but the male wasn't ready to go yet.

"Chief," Liam said in a thick voice, turning to the elder. "I don't think you meant for this to happen. If someone else comes looking for trouble, though, I'll burn your village down around your ears and kill everyone here. You, your women, all your animals. I'll kill every fucking thing that walks or crawls and I'll piss on your ashes. You understand? No more of this shit. I ain't playing."

RipperFish
RipperFish
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