point down in the dust and knelt before her.
Orlana stepped up to him and her eyes raked over the two hundred riders. The horses were stamping and skittish, and she smiled, and touched Tuboda on the shoulder, and lifted her right hand, fingers outstretched. A man screamed, and the horses began to stamp and snort and whinny, and then there came a terrible crunch and the beast and its rider, along with saddlebags, sword, bow, clothes and boots all folded in together , flesh and clothing merging and melting and folding over and through itself; blood bubbled, muscles grew and the horse hit the ground, trembling, hooves kicking violently as man and beast merged into one. Muscles filled out, swelling, becoming thicker and rippling, and the horse’s head, screaming an equine cry of pain and terror suddenly mouthed silently, great strings of saliva connecting the great stretched head as the eyes turned from brown to golden, and the face stretched wider still, and the horse, and the man, became one.
Tuboda, who had turned at the screams and whines, stared in stunned disbelief as the other beasts reared and whinnied, bloating, screaming and pawing the air. They folded together with their riders with crunches and breaks, snaps and slopping sounds, as blood ran and bones broke and shifted and reformed; and then he glanced back to Orlana and her own eyes were a softly glowing gold, her fingers straight, rigid, as she channelled power from the earth and the rocks and the mountains. Down through the columns every single man and beast crunched and writhed together in some great orgy of bloated flesh, screaming men, crying horses, and the grass turned slowly crimson, and was churned into mud, and grooves filled with blood and bits of useless bone were left scattered around the carnage like useless pulled teeth. Slowly, from the mess, from the mud, from the pulsing bloated bodies rose panting, drooling creatures, thick with muscle and with jaws broken open, showing huge fangs. Many eyes glowed softly golden and had a haunted intelligent look; like human eyes after witnessing a mass killing.
“Walk with me.”
Tuboda was drawn to his feet by Orlana and with open mouth followed his new mistress, down through a column which had become a charnel house; and each new creature, an amalgamated entity of horse and man, some with hooves, some fingers, some with bulging human appendages erupting from blistering horse flesh like boils, all stood large and bulky with muscle and thick strong bones. Heads were twisted and broken and wide, eyes disjointed, jaws lop-sided, and all eyes followed Orlana as she strode confidently forward, patting a beast here, stroking a flank there, her smile wide, eyes beaming in admiration for these, her creatures, her warriors, her new family.
She halted near the back of the column. During the savage transformation, most families had scrambled from carts and fled, children screaming and weeping, mothers holding babes close to their chests. Many of the oxen had broken free and stampeded, leaving a sudden ghost town of lost wagons. Those that remained stared on with dull, bovine stupidity, their bodies trembling, waiting to die.
Somewhere amidst the abandoned wagons, a dog barked. Orlana made a small gesture, and one of the great horse creatures turned and leapt with incredible agility, disappearing between the wagons. There came a crunch and a squeal, and it returned with a bloody limp dog carcass between those great jaws, head hung sadly to one side, great doleful brown eyes glazed.
“Your thoughts?” said Orlana, and faced Tuboda.
“I… I… I…”
“You are speechless. Perhaps understandable. I have improved your tribesmen, Tuboda. They have merged with their mounts, but in joining have become so much more powerful, and vicious, and obedient. No longer do they pursue petty rivalries and grudges; no longer do they lust after women and liquor and gold. Now, they obey me. Without question. These are the splice.
Orlana stepped up to him and her eyes raked over the two hundred riders. The horses were stamping and skittish, and she smiled, and touched Tuboda on the shoulder, and lifted her right hand, fingers outstretched. A man screamed, and the horses began to stamp and snort and whinny, and then there came a terrible crunch and the beast and its rider, along with saddlebags, sword, bow, clothes and boots all folded in together , flesh and clothing merging and melting and folding over and through itself; blood bubbled, muscles grew and the horse hit the ground, trembling, hooves kicking violently as man and beast merged into one. Muscles filled out, swelling, becoming thicker and rippling, and the horse’s head, screaming an equine cry of pain and terror suddenly mouthed silently, great strings of saliva connecting the great stretched head as the eyes turned from brown to golden, and the face stretched wider still, and the horse, and the man, became one.
Tuboda, who had turned at the screams and whines, stared in stunned disbelief as the other beasts reared and whinnied, bloating, screaming and pawing the air. They folded together with their riders with crunches and breaks, snaps and slopping sounds, as blood ran and bones broke and shifted and reformed; and then he glanced back to Orlana and her own eyes were a softly glowing gold, her fingers straight, rigid, as she channelled power from the earth and the rocks and the mountains. Down through the columns every single man and beast crunched and writhed together in some great orgy of bloated flesh, screaming men, crying horses, and the grass turned slowly crimson, and was churned into mud, and grooves filled with blood and bits of useless bone were left scattered around the carnage like useless pulled teeth. Slowly, from the mess, from the mud, from the pulsing bloated bodies rose panting, drooling creatures, thick with muscle and with jaws broken open, showing huge fangs. Many eyes glowed softly golden and had a haunted intelligent look; like human eyes after witnessing a mass killing.
“Walk with me.”
Tuboda was drawn to his feet by Orlana and with open mouth followed his new mistress, down through a column which had become a charnel house; and each new creature, an amalgamated entity of horse and man, some with hooves, some fingers, some with bulging human appendages erupting from blistering horse flesh like boils, all stood large and bulky with muscle and thick strong bones. Heads were twisted and broken and wide, eyes disjointed, jaws lop-sided, and all eyes followed Orlana as she strode confidently forward, patting a beast here, stroking a flank there, her smile wide, eyes beaming in admiration for these, her creatures, her warriors, her new family.
She halted near the back of the column. During the savage transformation, most families had scrambled from carts and fled, children screaming and weeping, mothers holding babes close to their chests. Many of the oxen had broken free and stampeded, leaving a sudden ghost town of lost wagons. Those that remained stared on with dull, bovine stupidity, their bodies trembling, waiting to die.
Somewhere amidst the abandoned wagons, a dog barked. Orlana made a small gesture, and one of the great horse creatures turned and leapt with incredible agility, disappearing between the wagons. There came a crunch and a squeal, and it returned with a bloody limp dog carcass between those great jaws, head hung sadly to one side, great doleful brown eyes glazed.
“Your thoughts?” said Orlana, and faced Tuboda.
“I… I… I…”
“You are speechless. Perhaps understandable. I have improved your tribesmen, Tuboda. They have merged with their mounts, but in joining have become so much more powerful, and vicious, and obedient. No longer do they pursue petty rivalries and grudges; no longer do they lust after women and liquor and gold. Now, they obey me. Without question. These are the splice.
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