Marika and the Grelka, Part 2 by John Barker, IV Copyright: John Barker, IV 2005 Adventuring Viking Queen Marika confronts a legendary beast with her bare hands Marika crouched down, and entered the cave head-first. A last over-the-shoulder glace at the sun told her that solar noon would happen in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. She could still hear crying and screaming from inside the cave. Hopefully the grelka would not be tempted to dine earlier than the ritual seemed to dictate. It was dark inside the cave, and Marika remembered that, since the grelka was at least part-tiger, it was undoubtedly better to able to see inside the dark cave than she was, even after her eyes adjusted. Marika noted that the craggy interior would probably prevent the grelka from taking to its wings. "Good," she thought, "that way its mobility advantage is canceled out some. But what about the size advantage, fang advantage, claw advantage, and Lord knows what other advantages? Well, if I bothered calculating odds, I'd be nothing but wife to some flea-bitten headman intent on raiding the village across the fjord." A change in the animal sounds now registered in her ears. After a moment of silence, the growl that had been incessant since she first listened at the entrance as a low rumble grew markedly louder, and seemed to be getting closer. "Shit!" She realized what was going on. The grelka could detect the smell of her sweat, so copiously poured out in bending the bars of the entrance. "Get high," she told herself. A quick survey of the craggy walls told her that there were many possible handholds. She began to scramble up the wall as noiselessly as she could, while the growling grew louder and closer. She was near the turn in the cave and about ten feet off the ground when, preceded by its rank smell, the grelka came into view. "Big kitty!" she thought. The grelka was about the size of a normal tiger (and Marika had encountered captive tigers before) . Its stripes appeared to be white and black, rather than yellow and black. The head was as large as the head of a battering ram. Yes. the grelka was certainly a tiger, except for the wings. Indeed, wings protruded from just behind the shoulder blades, and should have given the grelka about a 10-12 foot wingspan. Marika was lucky that the grelka was thinking in two-dimensions at the moment. It was below her, and was looking at the bars of the entrance, obviously noting the two bent at opposite right angles from the others. "Now or never," she thought, as she did not want the grelka to begin to look around for the intruder (and why else would the bars be bent?). She had silently drawn her sword out of its sheath, and held it in the one hand she did not need to cling to the rocks with. Marika knew what she wanted to do, and fortuitously, the grelka was in the right position. Marika let herself drop onto the back of the grelka, which immediately twisted its head around to try to see its antagonist, and use its jaws on it. Instantly, Marika plunged her sword into the base of the grelka's skull. Or she should have. The sword was indeed in her hand, and she had tried to plunge it into the hide of the beast. But the razor sharp point would not penetrate. She tried again. No penetration. She tried lower down. Her sword could not pierce the hide. The grelka's hide must be proof against swords. "Damn!!!" She calmed quickly, and dropped the sword. She remembered reading in an Irish monastery she had sacked once (before her conversion) about a Greek fellow a long time ago who had a similar problem with a lion. Sometimes it was handy reading things in places you raid. You can pick up some good tactical suggestions. "I guess what's born to be strangled won't be stabbed." The grelka reared up on its hind legs, and Marika used the opportunity to throw her arms under the "armpits" of the grelka, and link her hands behind its neck. She was just able to do this. Had her arms been a half inch shorter, she could not have done it. The grelka was pawing the empty air, roaring loudly, and still reared on its hind legs. It could not bring either the claws of its front paws or its huge teeth to bear on its attacker. Marika was establishing her iron grip on the grelka quickly, but feared that it might try the back paws, and used them to disembowel her, or at least tear her legs up badly. Unlike the grelka, her hide could be penetrated by sharp things, and its claws looked mighty sharp. Just as she was worrying about the claws ripping her apart, the grelka had other ideas. "Damn!" Something heavy had just whacked the side of Marika's head. Wings. Her head was in easy range for the grelka to belabor her head with its wings. "That one is going to leave a bruise," as the other wing whacked into her head. The grelka was now flapping both wings, and had become airborne. It was landing blow after blow on Marika's head and shoulders. "This is going to be more complicated than an ordinary tiger, as if that wasn't bad enough." The grelka could not fly far inside the cavern, but it could come within an appreciable distance of the ceiling. Marika ducked her head to prevent the grelka from slamming her against the stone, which is what it was trying to do now. By ducking down a bit and burying her head between the shoulder blades, she managed to escape most of the damaging blows that the grelka's wings were trying to land on her. While Marika was trying to protect her head, her arms were strongly established, her hands holding tight to each other behind its head. She was still trying to use her legs to corral the grelka's hind legs, before it brought its disembowelling claws into action. It was bad enough being beaten by the wings. The claws ripping her legs apart was just not an option. She would need those legs to climb back down with, hopefully with the grelka's intended victim over her broad shoulder. Marika managed a burst of strength to her arms, and was gratified to find the grelka allowing her to push its neck down a bit. One of her legs had ensnared a hind quarter of the grelka. "One set of claws immobilized." Just then, the grelka smashed her leg (necessarily on the outside of its hind quarter) against a stone, and pain shot through her leg. She had to shut off that pain now, and labored to do so. Her intention was to do unto the grelka, not to have the grelka do unto her. Another burst of enormous power in her arms was met by stiff resistance. The wings of the grelka were flailing, flapping without much rythym. Flight was no longer its objective. It wanted to punish its bold antagonist with the wings. It lost altitude. Soon, the grelka and Marika crashed to the ground. In the thrashing of wings and legs, and forepaws, Marika managed to hook her other leg around the grelka free hind quarter, immobilizing it. The wings continued to beat at her, but seemed to be doing little damage since she had ducked lower. The grelka was on the ground, thrashing and rolling. Soon, its whole weight, at least 800 pounds, was on Marika, and trying to squash her, but she was tougher than that. Now that both hind quarters were immobilized, Marika concentrated her efforts on killing the grelka, and sent wave after wave of strength coursing into her arms, drawing reserves she was not consciously aware of. The forepaws of the grelka were clawing the air helplessly. The might of the grelka was stupendous. Each titanic effort to force its head lower that Marika had made in the last 80 seconds was stopped cold with no gain. The grelka was still thrashing around, trying alternately to crush or throw off its opponent. But no creature could dislodge Marika's steel-hard arms once they had a firm grip. More and more strength she poured against the back of the grelka's neck, trying to force its head lower. The two antagonists were on their sides now. Marika had clearly gained the upper hand, but the strength of the grelka was unbelievable. Despite the advantages of position that Marika had, and the fact that it was wasting a lot of effort trying to crush or throw Marika, and roaring and pawing the air, it was stopping her cold. It was now a question of whose strength would give out first, the blonde Norse amazon's or the grelka's. If Marika tired enough to allow the grelka to break the full nelson hold she had on it, there was no question that it would kill her, devour the child, and then her later. The battle lasted a full five minutes, before the tide turned irreversibly. The grelka continued to thrash about and paw the air, and it was this waste of effort that gave Marika the advantage. After those five minutes, in which Marika had summoned up reserves of strength again and again to launch against the back of the grelka's neck, finally, one of her efforts was rewarded by the slightest downward movement of the grelka's head. Not much, but just perceptible. The grelka rolled on her again, but Marika did not lose the gain she had made. She gathered herself, and poured a huge amount of effort into another push. Again, she was rewarded with a small gain. Now, every ten seconds or so, Marika made a new effort, and the grelka's neck bent forward just a fraction of an inch more. The grelka now was no longer rolling around or thrashing. The pawing of the air with forepaws had stopped too. The roars were becoming weaker, at least to Marika's hopeful ears. Another tremendous effort, and another gain. Was she imagining it, or was she gaining more with each effort? Her next effort was a full 15 seconds later, and had more power behind it than any of her previous efforts. The grelka's neck moved forward a full half inch this time. Lower and lower went the grelka's head. Further and further down pressed the palms of Marika's joined mighty hands. Her arms were corded knots of mighty steel, her biceps seeming as big as footballs with softballs half-embedded in the tops. More and more strength she poured into her effort to break the grelka. And each new effort was now rewarded with a slight gain, and the grelka's head lowering a bit more. The grelka now was silent and still, marshalling all its still-enormous strength to resist the killing pressure of the Viking woman's powerful arms. Never before had the grelka fought such an opponent. Nothing in its experience prepared it for Marika. Humans had fallen easy prey to its claws and fangs for generations. It had easily killed hundreds, not counting its ritual victims. By glances, it thought its attacker might even be a human she. Now it was full of rage to be held at such a disadvantage by such a despised creature. The rage gathered, and, channeled into resistance, allowed the grelka to reverse some millimeters of Marika's gains, but almost immediately, Marika made a new effort, which gained back what she had lost, and a millimeter or two more. She had bested the grelka. But she was not sure of that yet. Another great effort 20 seconds later brought the grelka's neck to the very limit it could be pressed down. It was trying with all its strength to force its neck straight again, but Marika was mastering all its efforts. She gathered herself for a supreme effort. She threw more strength into this effort than she knew she had. She was quivering from the exertion. She made a sustained push. She could hear the vertebrae of the grelka's neck creak with the strain. She had certainly sweated out every drop of water in her system. Her skin was red. Her breath uneven. If it had been a mere man in her grip, he would have been broken thirty times over by now. She had been pushing down on the grelka's neck for twenty seconds now, with stupendous strength. This huge and unparralleled effort was finally rewarded, after being resisted with the last vestigaes of the grelka's own awesome might. There was first a sound like popping, then, there was a great crunchy snap, as if a tree branch had been broken. At least one vertebrae had popped out, and then was broken by the unrelenting pressure of her powerful hands. There was no more resistance from the grelka. Marika pushed its jaws into its chest, far past the point of resistance. She had broken its neck with just her bare hands and mighty arms. The grelka was limp now in her arms. A great exhalation of breath came at the same time that its bladder and intestines voided. Marika somehow kept the pressure on her fearsome opponent some twenty seconds longer. The grelka's chest was no longer rising and falling. It was not drawing breath any longer. It was dead in her arms. Marika released the grelka's corpse. "I hope it doesn't have any regenerative powers." Then she collapsed on the ground, oblivious to the cries of the girl child, which were now the only sounds in the cavern. Clean-up, water, and rescue could be completed later. Now her incredible physique demanded at least some minutes' rest, or Marika would join the grelka in the shades.