Lod the Galley Slave (Lost Civilizations) by Vaughn Heppner Read Free Book Online Page B

have to be in my day ? I don’t want the responsibility . Those were thoughts unworthy of a king, but they were his thoughts. He must fight in order to save this unique reasoning capacity for future generations of great sloths, leopards and archaeopteryxes. Old Slow roared hoarsely, seeing no way out of the responsibility. Then he set his head down and shuffled with a will.
     

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    With his massive claws, Old Slow moved a branch. He lowered his snout and squinted into the distance. His eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. He saw the stockade. He also saw movement along the top. Those were indistinct shapes. According to the archaeopteryx, those were soldiers in red armor. It didn’t seem right that the ancient archaeopteryx should see better than he did. The parrot-feathered bird was three times his age. The toothed archaeopteryx—the only toothed bird Old Slow knew—would probably survive many years longer, too.
    Old Slow grunted as a chill swept through him . He hadn’t felt such a thing since his early years as a young male. The older males then, as now, fought for the privilege of mounting a choice female. His loins had stirred back then as the ripe musk of a female in heat had played havoc with his higher thoughts. As a younger bull, he had shuffled out of hiding and challenged an old bull for the privilege of mating with the gorgeous female who had wriggled her rump in a clearing. It had been a short fight. The old bull had smashed him back and forth until Old Slow had bawled in terror. When the old male let him up, Old Slow had slunk away in shame. The feeling he had felt then smashed one way and then another by that great old bull…some of that awful feeling returned now.
    From within the jungle, Old Slow squinted. The brown monster out there had the shape of a great sloth, but moved faster and seemed more dangerous. The beast was huge and moved with a rolling gait.
    The archaeopteryx had given Old Slow a name for the creature: cave bear . The wise old bird had also told him that there had never been a creature like that before. That cave bear was unique, a beast altered by magic.
    A few of the dire wolves had seen the monster several days ago. The wolves believed that big as the bear was that a hardy group of great sloths could slay it.
    That was wolf thinking, all right . Gang up and attack. Old Slow had never ganged up on anyone. But then again, since he had become the old bull, he had never faced creatures bigger than himself. The cave bear out there…
    The leopards had agreed with the wolves, which was a first . The reasons were easy to remember. The offspring of the celestials had strange powers. With enslaving magic, the offspring controlled creatures. The offspring had built that wooden palisade in a day and would shoot spines from it. Unlike porcupine spines, those spines killed.
    The leopards wanted revenge for the guardians slain several days ago . Old Slow just wanted the invaders gone. The cave bear would be a problem.
    The longer he stared at the stockade, the more Old Slow came around to the leopard plan . The stockade was similar to a sea turtle’s shell. To eat the soft meat, one had to crack the tough shell. To kill the two-legs, they had to crack the stockade. Old Slow believed he could tear down those upright logs. Let him get his claws hooked around one and down it would go. The problem would be timing, and if they should wait for more great sloths to arrive. The celestial offspring tore vines off the ancient galley. Once they floated the galley in the bay, it would be too late to stop them from reaching the sacred isle. There they would remove the magic-that-gave-animals-thought.
    The giant cave bear waddled into the stockade . Soon, the gate swung shut with a boom.
    Old Slow realized the attack might cost him his life . He was the king. He had to lead. He had to fight in the front. What he really wanted was to go home. He wanted to mate again, one more time before he died.
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