Chapter II: Vulcan

“A what?” Leech and Roinder said together, their faces twisted into confusion in the moonlight.

“I hope you haven’t just made that up, Thorne,” Roinder warned. The other shook his head irritably and explained.

A Tarbosaurus, a close relative of Tyrannosaurus Rex in the west, was a large carnivore, with serrated teeth and two spindly-looking forearms. They spoke only Dinosauria, and they were solitary animals, remaining with their mother until several months old, and then departing company of the family. Unlike Tyrannosaurs, Tarbosaurs did not mate for life, preferring to live and hunt alone. They usually dwelled on plains, or perhaps hilly areas, with large territories spanning several miles. They not only killed for food, but, like their relatives, they also scavenged and fed on carrion whenever the opportunity arose.

Thorne had seen one before. As a very young hatchling, no older than Leech, on their way to join the other colony at the swamp, they had seen one Tarbosaurus, plunging into the swamp after its prey, a duck-billed Saurolophus, that had become trapped in the thick mud. Although he had only seen it from a great distance away, Thorne had still been overawed by the size and power this carnivore appeared to possess.

“What’s the monster’s name?” Leech whispered.

“It’s not a monster. It’s a Tarbosaurus.”

“But what’s his name?”

“Never mind that,” Roinder said quickly, “What I want to know is what it’s doing here.”

The big carnivore craned its neck to look up at them, and then spoke in a weak voice.

“I was driven out of my home,” he croaked, “I was attacked by an Alioramus, and I ran for several miles to get away. My injuries forced me to collapse in this ditch, and now I am too weak to get out.” His eyes lit up hopefully, “I am very hungry – would you help me get some food?”

“Certainly not!” Roinder piped up, harsher than he had anticipated, “how do we know you’re not going to eat us? And why should we give you food? There’s barely enough here to feed ourselves!”

“Oh please,” begged the Tarbosaur, “please help me! I promise I will not harm you – and if you help me get well again, I shall reward you by protecting your colony from any danger.”

“Could you protect us from the monsters?” Leech asked meekly.

“Monsters? There aren’t any monsters, Leech,” Roinder insisted, “I’d have thought tonight would have taught you a lesson. There’s no danger around here, Tarbosaur,” he said firmly, “apart from you. So no, we don’t help you.”

“Don’t you imbeciles see?” Thorne sniped in reply, “he says he’s injured, right?”
“Yes, so?”

“So, the blood from his injuries will eventually attract other large predators. We are in danger.”

“-Because of him,” Roinder argued, “We weren’t until he came along.”

“So you are now,” croaked the young Tarbosaur, “and what I’m saying is I can protect you from any potential danger.”

“How can you?” Roinder went on, “You’re just a juvenile – what if an adult Tarbosaurus came along? Then what would you do? You say you were already beaten by an Alioramus.”

“…And they’re smaller,” Thorne added. The Tarbosaur cringed visibly; whether it was shame or anger glowing in his eyes, they could not see.

“At least I’d be better than nothing,” the carnivore muttered.

“Well, all right, then,” Roinder said eventually, “but you must promise not to hurt us.”

“I swear by The Lunar,” said the Tarbosaur, “you have my word.” He gazed up at them.

“Now could you please get me some food? I’m ravenous!”

Reluctantly, Roinder and Leech turned, Leech asking his brother about what their mother would say when she found him. Thorne remained by the ditch, looking down at the Tarbosaur.

“I told you it would work,” the blood-drinker grinned nastily, “that Leech is so gullible; tell him he’d have to eat a pile of Sauropod faeces to see a monster and he’d go ahead and do it.”

“Excellent work, Thorne,” the Tarbosaur congratulated, “you will be rewarded once I have my army.” He cocked his eye. “Was my acting good, do you think?”

“Superb, Sire,” Thorne nodded, “they truly believed you were injured, well, currently, anyway.”

“I’m worried about the younger one, Thorne,” he mused, “not the hatchling, but the other. A little too strong, I think.”

Thorne shook his head. “No, Sire, he isn’t really. Believe me, I’ve known him all his life. He’ll fall into line when it comes to it.”

He glanced behind him.

“You’d better go off with them, Thorne,” the Tarbosaur advised, “or else they’ll get suspicious. Go now.”

“Yes, Sire,” Thorne obeyed, bowing gracefully before heading off after Leech and Roinder. The Tarbosaur chuckled softly, and ducked back down into the trench.

*

Vulcan was his name, and he was a mid-juvenile Tarbosaurus. He had a couple of metres’ growing to do before he reached his adult height, but he was still large enough to intimidate most. He was a deep chestnut, with a white underside and brown stripes across his spine. His eyes were crimson and his claws and toes were a dirty white, smothered in mud from the ditch. He had come to be in this particular area after a fight back home.

He had been the youngest of the clutch of six, with three other brothers and two sisters. His mother, Kayne, had looked after them well, and raised six strong young Tarbosaurs. They had lived happily in the territory, food was in plentiful supply, and there were few or no enemies to contend with.

Vulcan had been the last to be taught how to hunt and kill, but once he had acquired the skill of ripping prey apart, he had used it as much as possible. In a few weeks he had wiped out a large family of mammals that had lived near the nest site, and attacked one of his brothers so viciously in ‘play’ that he had sustained an almost fatal injury to his throat.

Then at last the time came for the young Tarbosaurs to leave the nest. Vulcan’s two sisters had headed off, but Vulcan and his brothers had remained in an adjacent territory to their mother’s. Vulcan, hungry for power, had slaughtered all three of his older brothers, by separating them and battling each one, until the territory was his. It was at this point that the dark fire, hungry for power, had kindled inside him, driving him to kill any living thing that stood in his path.

For a while he had stayed in his new kingdom; little did he know it was already claimed, by a male Alioramus who had just left temporarily to answer a female’s call. When he returned, he was furious at Vulcan having taken over, and attacked him savagely. Vulcan barely escaped with his life, and fled from the land, until at least he had reached the swamps. Exhausted after his journey, he had collapsed in the trench, where he had later been discovered.

Vulcan growled as he wallowed in his memories of degradation; the fight with the Alioramus and his defeat had frustrated both him and the fire that raged within him; he must somehow regain his self-confidence and pride by ruling a territory of his own by fear. He grinned evilly at the thought of everyone cowering in his shadow, and shuddering when they heard his name or roar. Patience, he told himself, that will all come soon. He looked up towards the bank, and waited for the blood-drinkers to return with some food.

The weeks went by, each day with Vulcan becoming stronger and stronger. Leech, Roinder and Thorne hunted excessively whenever they could; Roinder made their excuse to their mother by explaining that him teaching his little brother to hunt would save her from the task. She was a little suspicious at first, but glad anyway that for once she did not have to watch over Leech.

But as the time passed, the mammals became scarcer and scarcer. Other blood-drinkers in the colony were beginning to wonder what was going on, and sooner or later, the three blood-drinkers knew the others would find out. There certainly had to be a reason for Thorne, Leech and Roinder going into the copse to hunt, since the mammals in there were the scarcest anywhere, and they did not seem bothered about the many hundreds of mosquito bites adorning their bodies afterwards. And why did they take their catches in there to eat?

Since Vulcan appeared to be fit and well, Roinder decided he would take up the problem with the Tarbosaur at every opportunity. He was apprehensive, however, as Vulcan was now as strong as he had been before the fight, and he was afraid of being attacked and eaten because of his protests. Nevertheless, something had to be done, if not by he, Leech and Thorne, then by the rest of the colony.

It had just passed Lunar-zenith, and The Lunar hung high in the sky in crescent form. The stars burned and spiked through the night, and wispy violet clouds drifted silently by. Insects cheeped in the bushes, dragonflies and moths whirred, and mosquitoes buzzed angrily. The trees rustled in the light breeze, and tiny mammals darted here and there between the shrubs.

Roinder, Leech and Thorne approached Vulcan, who was managing to stand strong in the trench. The two younger Saurornithoidi felt intimidated by his great height towering above them, but Thorne did not flinch.

“Lunar-zenith,” Roinder said meekly, “I…we, er, need to talk to you about…something…we…”

“The colony’s becoming suspicious,” Thorne butted in, reluctant to wait whilst Roinder stammered away, “because the mammal population is at an all time low. They also want to know why we keep going in here all the time; it does seem odd since the mosquito bites are enough to keep even a Sauropod away.  They’re becoming suspicious, and we think it’s time you moved on, now you’re fit and healthy.”

Vulcan narrowed his eyes.

“How many are there in your colony?”

“Plenty,” Roinder replied, edging slowly backwards should the big carnivore strike unexpectedly, “mostly males, but lots of mothers and hatchlings, too. And juvenile females, about our age.”

“Too many for the mammal and lizard populations to support,” Thorne said bluntly, “and it doesn’t help with you being here, either. The amount you eat…” Roinder gave him a warning look, but Thorne sneered.

“I have an idea,” Vulcan said quietly, “that will solve all of our problems. But I shall need to call a meeting, you and your kind. As many as will come.”

“We’re not going to fall for that, Mr. Monster!” Leech called out bravely, “you’re going to eat us all, aren’t you? Enough to cut our population, and enough to whet your appetite!”

Vulcan looked shocked.

“What, after everything you’ve done for me? No! Of course not! Besides, all of you would bring me down easily, before I could bat an eyelid! No, seriously, where is an appropriate meeting place for you all?”

Leech and Roinder looked doubtful, and a sparkle of fear danced in their eyes. They looked to each other apprehensively, and then to Thorne. The larger blood-drinker turned to the Tarbosaur.

“There’s a dry, rocky area,” he said slowly, “just above the swamp. It’s quite central, so you’d be able to address everyone who goes to the meeting quite easily.”

“Is it far from here? My leg’s still not as good as it used to be.”

“Not far, no.”

“What are you going to do?” Leech asked with fearful eyes.

“Nothing that will cause you harm,” Vulcan assured him, “just something that will help both me and your colony.”

“How?” Roinder pressed him, dissatisfied with the response, “How could a Tarbosaur help our colony?”

“All shall be revealed in the meeting,” the big carnivore nodded, “If you’d care to summon everyone.”

Light-Kalm the next day saw the entire Saurornithoides colony gathered about the swamp. They had never been clustered all together before, and so none had realised just how cramped the place was; it was not a wonder why the mammal and lizard populations had dropped so drastically. All apart from three knew nothing of the Tarbosaur, only that a meeting of extreme importance had been arranged, and that everyone was expected to attend.

The tension in the air was buzzing, like the flies over the swamp-water, and everybody was impatient to find out the reason for this summoning. Mothers were anxious to search for food for their hatchlings, who had also been expected to make an appearance, and young males were itching to resume their play-fighting games. Older males were bored, idly snapping at the occasional flies that whirred about their heads, and young females were reluctant to be disturbed from their hunting.

 Leech, buzzing with excitement, had eagerly dragged his mother and sisters along; at least they would be proved wrong, there were such things as monsters! They were at the very front of the assembly, before the largest of the rocks on the dry area, beside Roinder, and Thorne resumed a place adjacent to the rock. It seemed that he was the one to introduce Vulcan – much to Leech’s despair – and lead the whole meeting until the Tarbosaur took up his position.

As Thorne approached, a thousand snakes seemed to hiss and then everyone fell silent. Leech craned his neck to look over the top of the rocks, and back, over the crowd, should the monster come from behind, but there was no sign of Vulcan. Strange, he thought. In this vast space, a creature as big as him would easily be spotted; where was he hiding?

The rocks were too small for him to even crouch behind, let alone stand, so where was Vulcan? Perhaps he would rise out of the swamp, Leech thought, like a real monster; yeah that would be fun!

“Now, everyone!” Thorne cried, attempting to make his voice travel far enough so everyone could hear, “you are all wondering why I’ve brought you all here tonight, at Light Kalm. My reason is this; we have an extremely serious problem facing us at present. I’m sure you’re all aware of it, I doubt it has passed any of you by.”

“Look, just get on with it!” someone yelled. Thorne threw an icy glare in the direction of the speaker, who shuffled their feet and fell silent.

“It is the problem with prey,” Thorne continued, “there is a drastic shortage of prey. And since there are now young hatchlings in the colony, it is important that we do something about it. There are too many of us here for the mammal and lizard populations to support.”

“What are you suggesting?” a mother called out, “That we eat our own? Our own hatchlings?”

“No…I…”

“Listen, what is this about, young’un,” a tiresome voice cried, “look at you, you’re near enough a hatchling yourself! Why have you called us here? One of your pranks, is it? We all know the problem,” he continued, “what we want is a solution. Not a juvenile like you lecturing us on what we already know.”

“If you’d let me get to the solution,” Thorne’s eyes flashed dangerously, “then perhaps I could help. But only if you listen.”

“All right,” said the same voice, “we’re listening. So tell us, what is the solution?”

“There are too many males here, to start with,” the blood-drinker resumed, “so, if a lare group of those males, young or old, went off with me and…someone else, we could relieve this territory of its falling prey population. The males, in the group that leave, could find new lands, and new foods, and have their own vast territory. As for females, we could not afford to take any from here,  but in the new lands, there are bound to be other, smaller colonies, who could join up with them. That way, there would be less crowding here.”

“He’s got a point,” some closer crowd members muttered amongst themselves. The gathering hummed for a while, considering the option, when Thorne stepped down, asking the males willing to depart to meet him in the copse before Lunar-zenith tonight. The meeting was over.

Leech was thoroughly disappointed; why hadn’t Vulcan turned up? Perhaps, he thought, Thorne had decided against it; displaying a carnivore like that to the colony would surely cause panic, especially for the parents and their hatchlings.

 “Mother,” he said, “can I go?”

“Certainly not!” she exclaimed, “whatever gave you such an idea? You wouldn’t survive!”

“Oh, come on, Mother,” Roinder said, favouring the idea of discovering new lands and journeying in a group, something he had never done, “I’d like to go. I could look after Leech. If there’re lots of males going, we’ll be safe.” The mother remained unconvinced, but did not answer her son.

As The Lunar clambered into Its throne in the sky, a huge group of male Saurornithoidi grumpily assembled at the copse, wincing and scratching at their mosquito bites. Almost every male in the colony was there, save for the fathers and the old, and there they stood, in the shadows, waiting expectantly for Thorne to appear.

Roinder and Leech had managed to persuade their mother to let them go; sorry as she was to see them leave, but Roinder was almost old enough to leave the colony anyway, if need be. Although he was not particularly good at watching over Leech, after she had seen how many other males were going, she relented, knowing that her young son would be well looked after. Besides, it would save her the trouble of watching him and bringing him up; her female hatchlings were more important as there were fewer females in the colony.

Leech was brimming with excitement, as was Roinder; neither had ventured out from the swampland before, and the idea of discovering and claiming new lands for themselves was greatly looked forward to by both. Leech could at last satisfy his craving for exploration – without his mother watching his every move – and Roinder had finally claimed complete independence from her. At least now he would not have to look after Leech all of the time; there were more eyes watching him now and ensuring his safety.

They all stood in the darkness, on the whole rather quiet, only small groups chattering enthusiastically. Most of the males were young, about Roinder’s age, with only one or two adults who had remained unmated, owing to the lack of females in the colony. Leech of course was the youngest, still quite dependent on others for food, but the hunting for Vulcan’s prey had certainly paid off; Leech was well on the way to acquiring the skill of stalking and killing.

“I wish they’d hurry up,” one blood-drinker was saying, “if I have to stand here any longer I’ll be eaten alive by these damn mosquitoes; Lunar curse them!”

At last Thorne emerged from the shadows. A great sigh of relief was released from the crowd like a gust of air, whispering away into the night, and Thorne cleared his throat and stared amongst them.

He could not believe his luck; over three hundred had turned up, perhaps more, all young, only a couple of full grown adults, all enthusiastic and energetic like himself. He fought hard to hide a snigger as he saw Leech amongst them. That one ‘ll be the butt of everyone’s jokes for a while, he thought. He turned to face the onlookers.

“Right,” he said briskly, “is everyone here? Good. Now, I need to reveal something to you that I didn’t mention at the meeting.”

A load groan rose from the crowd; they knew there had to be some sort of catch to this.

“This something,” Thorne continued, “is the very commander of our group; army, if you like. We’re joining forces.”

“Army?” Roinder piped up, “you never said anything about an army, Thorne.”

“You can’t expect to conquer new lands without fighting for them, can you?” Thorne glared at him. The crowd murmured, and Roinder and Leech felt suddenly uneasy.

“This commander of ours,” the blood-drinker went on, “can be highly dangerous, but trust me, he will not hurt any one of you. You need him, he needs you. It’s a balance; once we’re out there, anything can happen. We must all depend on each other.”

Behind Thorne, ready for its cue, a large shadow hovered about the mouth of the copse. Those who saw it began to edge away, unsure of what to expect; was that big shape meant to be there, or did Thorne not know about it?

“I present to you,” Thorne declared, stepping to the side, “the leader of our army: Vulcan, the great Tarbosaurus.”

The crowd shivered and cried out uncomprehendingly. Only three figures stood their ground, but two of those gave each other a worried glance. Those at the front of the crowd backed away, cautious, unnerved, whilst others looked about themselves apprehensively. What was a ‘Tarbosaurus’?

Their question was soon answered, for out of the copse stepped a huge dinosaur, about the height of a giraffe and the length of a small bus. Its head was boxy, its teeth sharp and its two forearms spindly. The Saurornithoidi were simply hypnotised by fear; none could move, transfixed. They had never, like Leech and Roinder, encountered any predators bigger than themselves before, and were both fascinated and terrified.

“Do not fear me,” Vulcan boomed, sensing their terror, “I am here to join you in you travels to find new lands. I will not harm you; any of you. We are all children of The Lunar,” he assured, “and we shall help one another. I shall fight for you, you shall fight for me. I am the commander of you, and in return I shall help you conquer lands rich in prey. I promise you a good life if you come along and be my army.”

For several moments, only the singing of insects could be heard. The group were frozen to the spot, bowled over not only by the Tarbosaur and its voice, but the nauseating stench issuing from its colossal jaws. Vulcan waited, expectantly. When there was no answer, he continued.

“I am grateful for the huge amount of you here,” he said, “it shows you all have a sense of adventure and craving for domination, as have I. Believe me, we shall make an unstoppable team.”

“What’s in it for you?” someone piped up, but immediately ducked out of sight. Vulcan glanced in that direction and narrowed his eyes.

“I too wish to conquer lands,” he replied, “but I cannot do it alone. I need the assistance of you all. I promise you, in the lands we conquer you can hunt to your hearts’ content. I too wish to hunt to my heart’s content, but as I said, I cannot conquer a land alone. We must co-operate to achieve our goals. I want the same thing you do.”

Once again the crowd began to murmur, the excitement and enthusiasm having returned. None of these blood-drinkers had ever been allowed to hunt to their heart’s content; at the swamp, food was scarce, so only the bare minimum of prey was allowed to be eaten, and this often meant scavenging from others’ kills. But Vulcan had opened up a whole new world for them, where they could hunt for sport and spite as well as food. A tongue of flame began to grow in each one of them, as slowly as the dark fire raging inside both Vulcan and Thorne began to consume them from within.