Valley of the Dinosaurs Read online

  VALLEY OF THE DINOSAURS

  Matthew Dennion

  www.severedpress.com

  Copyright 2019 by Matthew Dennion

  Prologue

  The warriors of Carthage had just finished setting up camp as the sun was setting. The men were covered in sweat from the intense heat of the jungle. They had stripped off most of their clothes, skins, and furs and placed them in a pile on the outskirts of the campsite. In total, there were well over two dozen men and horses in the scout party. Despite the heat, the men had opted to make a campfire as they feared the strange sights and sounds, they had encountered since entering the valley only a few hours ago.

  Once camp was fully constructed, the two lead scouts known as Birilus and Ferian moved to the edge of the campsite to confer with each other. When they were far enough away from the rest of the party, Ferian shook his head in disbelief.

  “Birilus, where are we and how does this place even exist?” The scout pointed to the mountain range that surrounded the jungle they were now in. “On the other side of those mountains are the freezing cliffs and paths of the Alps. Yet, we are in a valley covered in a sweltering hot jungle as if it were central Africa!”

  Birilus bent down and picked up a handful of earth. He held it out to his friend. “I’m no alchemist, but I’m pretty sure this soil has the feel of long-dead volcanic ash in it. Perhaps there is an underground volcano which heats this place, and the mountains which surround it somehow keep the heat in?”

  Ferian threw his hands up in frustration. “Fine, a volcano heats this area, but what about the carcass we saw when we exited the passage into the valley? I mean, what on Earth was that? Even torn to pieces, it was clearly larger than any elephant I have ever seen.” He shook his head once more. “Even the Emperor would have paled in comparison to whatever that thing was.” The young scout’s body shook. “Let alone the footprints we saw of the creature that killed that thing.”

  Birilus place his hand on Ferian’s shoulder. “I don’t know what that dead thing was or what killed it, but that’s what we’re here to find out. If Hannibal’s plan to cross the Alps and invade Rome is to become a reality, then we need to know the quickest and most efficient way to do so. We only spent a day in the mountains and the chilling cold was nearly unbearable for both us and our horses. If Hannibal is going to get elephants through the mountains and into Rome, this heated valley may be his best option.”

  Ferian was about to reply when an earthshaking roar cut across the sky. The two scouts were silent for a brief moment until Ferian finally spoke up. “By the gods, what manner of creature could unleash a cry such as that?”

  Birilus was staring at the treeline as he responded. “No manner of creature that I’ve ever encountered makes a sound like that. The beast behind that sound is still far off.” He pointed to the woods. “It’s those things that currently have me concerned.”

  Ferian looked into the trees to see a flash of feathers streak by. A second flash of feathers streaked by a moment later. It was at that point Ferian was able to determine the size of the creature. “It’s as large as a horse, if not larger.”

  As the scout finished his thought, two blood-curdling cries echoed out from the campsite. One of the screams came from the mouth of a horse and the other from a man. Birilus and Ferian wasted no more time discussing the issue and sprinted back toward the campsite. When the scouts reached the campsite, they could not believe their eyes. Two large dinosaurs that would one day be identified as relatives of the Utahraptor were standing over a horse. The creatures were slashing at the dying horse with their toed claws. With each swipe, the horrid creatures tore another chunk of flesh and organs away from the screeching animal. Ferian looked to his left, to see one of his men swinging his sword at a third raptor. Ferian drew his own sword to help out his comrade when a fourth raptor darted out from the trees and used its talon to slice open the gut of the man wielding the sword. Ferian and Birilus watched as the two creatures started eating the bleeding warrior while he was still alive.

  The commotion quickly drew more warriors to the middle of the camp. As the warriors exited their tents, more of the raptors would sprint out of the woods to engage them. Each attack was the same. One raptor would charge a warrior head-on and draw his attention. While the warrior was trying to fight the creature in front of him, a second creature would dart out of the woods and deliver a mortal wound to the man. The men were falling faster than Ferian and Birilus could process what was happening. Within thirty seconds of the initial attack, more than half of the Carthaginian forces were being eaten alive in front of them.

  Ferian’s attention was brought back to himself when one of the raptors ran up to him and Birilus. Knowing the creature’s plan, Birilus pulled his battle axe from where it was strapped to his back, turned toward the treeline, and hurled the weapon into the darkness. There was a brief screech as a raptor stumbled out of the jungle with the axe embedded in its chest. The dinosaur took several steps forward before it collapsed onto the ground. As soon as the dead raptor hit the ground, a second monster leapt upon its dead packmate and began devouring it.

  The raptor that had been trying to distract Birilus turned to look at its packmate. Ferian seized the opportunity presented to him by removing his dagger from its holder on his side. He pulled back and hurled the dagger at the raptor. The warrior’s aim was accurate as his blade lodged itself into the dinosaur’s throat. A spurt of blood sprayed across both Birilus and Ferian as the bleeding monster ran back into the jungle.

  Birilus looked back upon the carnage in the campsite to see more of his scouts being eaten alive. A quick look at one of his men screaming in pain as one of the monsters tore out his intestines and began chewing on them confirmed Birilus’ thought that this was a battle they could not win. He yelled out, “To the horses! We have to make it back to the mountains!”

  He turned toward where the horses were only to see a pile of blood, bones, skin, and organs encircled by five of the raptors who were greedily slurping up what remained of the animals.

  Birilus was transfixed by the horrific sight until he heard Ferian yell, “They are avoiding the fire! Grab torches from it and run toward the mountains!”

  Birilus and the remaining 10 men who were still alive sprinted for the fire in the center of camp. Birilus reached toward the base of the fire, and though the heat from the flames burned his hand, he pushed through the pain and pulled out a torch. He then turned to see another of the dragon-like creatures making its way toward him. The Carthaginian thrust the flaming end of his torch toward the beast, causing it to back away. He then turned toward the jungle and waved his torch in front of him as the inevitable secondary attacker from the side had almost made its way to him. Once more, the flaming torch was enough to cause the dinosaur to back away.

  Birilus turned toward his right to see Ferian grabbing up whatever clothes and furs he could with his hands. Birilus thought to himself, Good idea. If we had rushed out of the valley without those, we would freeze to death in the mountains. Better to die quickly here fighting for our lives than to freeze to death in the Alps.

  Birilus then looked to his left to see another member of his group flashing a torch at a raptor in front of him. When the beast turned away, the man let his torch down as a wave of relief came across his face. Birilus was about to yell at him to watch his blindside, when a second raptor leaped out of the woods and sliced the back of the man’s legs across his hamstrings. The man fell to the ground screaming and before Birilus could move to help him, the raptor slashed her talon across the man’s neck, sending a stream of blood shooting into the air.

  Birilus saw Ferian and several of the other men running toward the nearby mountains and he to
ok off after them. As Birilus ran out of the campsite, he used his torch to set fire to every tent that he passed. As the flames spread throughout the campsite, Birilus caught brief glimpses in his peripheral vision of raptors running out of the campsite and back into the jungle.

  As Birilus exited the campsite, the last remaining scouts joined him. Each of them had a torch in their hands and they were all running as fast as they could. Birilus quickly estimated that even at a full sprint, it would take him and the survivors at least twenty minutes to reach the base of the mountain.

  As the thought of the time frame needed and what it meant crossed his mind, his fear became a reality. He watched in utter helplessness as a warrior running 10 paces ahead of him was tackled to the ground by a leaping raptor. One of the men who had been running behind Birilus turned and went to help his fallen comrade when the scout leader grabbed him by the arm. Birilus was still running as he shouted, “Leave him! There is nothing we can do to save him. The creatures have changed their hunting tactics. They are no longer trying to divert our attention and strike. They are simply taking us down as we flee. Our only hope now is that some of us reach the mountain, before these dragons slay us all!”

  The man whose arm Birilus had grabbed nodded in reply. Birilus had just released his arm when he was knocked to the ground by one of the raptors. The beast stayed on top of the man as he skidded several feet in front of Ferian. The scout leader had a brief glimpse of the raptor clamping its jaws onto the man’s head. As he ran past the monster, Birilus saw the raptor pull upward, tearing the man’s head and the upper section of his spine from his body.

  Perhaps it was the years of training or his time as a scout and a spy that had honed a sixth sense for Birilus, but he was sure he felt something coming up behind him. As soon as he sensed the beast behind him, Birilus threw his body to the ground. When the young scout’s face hit the jungle floor, he rolled over to see a raptor sailing over him with his claws extended. Birilus knew that had he dropped a second later than he had, those claws would have been embedded in his back and sticking out of his chest.

  When the raptor landed, it immediately turned around and hissed at its prey. Birilus quickly scrambled to his feet and charged the beast. He hoped the creature was not accustomed to such a tactic and that the move would confuse the monster. As Birilus ran toward the raptor, waving his torch in front of him, the raptor hissed and leapt back into the darkness of the surrounding trees.

  With the immediate problem behind him, Birilus continued to run for the mountains. As he ran, the horror he had already witnessed continued to repeat itself. Every few minutes, another man would fall under the claws of a raptor leaping out of the jungle to claim its meal. By the time Birilus and reached the base of the mountain, only Ferian and a handful of men had survived.

  As the exhausted men stood panting before the mountain, Ferian yelled, “Climb as fast as you can and make your way around the side of the mountain!” He then began scaling the base of the mountain, Birilus quickly behind him. Birilus had just reached the base of the mountain when three of the raptors ran out of the jungle and made their way toward him. Birilus tossed his torch at the charging monsters to try and slow them down as he frantically scaled the mountain. Birilus had made it several feet up the side of the mountain when the jaws of one of the hellish creatures snapped shut just below his feet. The scout moved a few more feet farther up the mountain, when he turned around to see the raptors trying to scale the mountainside only to slide back down it unsuccessfully. He took a deep breath, as he was comforted by the knowledge that he was temporarily safe. He looked up the mountain to see that Ferian and the few remaining survivors were still making their way up toward the side of the mountain.

  Birilus’ muscles ached and his lungs were screaming from pain and exhaustion as he made his way up the mountain and toward its side. For another thirty minutes, the Carthaginians continued to climb. They were about twenty percent of the way up the mountain when they finally reached the side of the formation and started moving around it. After another twenty minutes of making their way around the mountain and to the freezing slopes of the side opposite the valley, Ferian held his hand up for the men to stop.

  Those who were still alive were freezing on the snowy slopes of the mountain. Ferian gestured for the men to come over to him. When the men reached him, the scout began handing out the extra clothes and skins he had grabbed prior to fleeing the camp. As Birilus approached him, Ferian handed him one of the several skins he still had in his arms. Ferian shook his head in disbelief. “When I was fleeing camp, I tried to grab as many skins as I could. At the time, I was worried I hadn’t grabbed enough of them.” He looked down at the pile of skins still left in his arms. “With so few of us making it out of there, I seem to have grabbed too many.” Ferian lifted his head and looked into Birilus’ eyes. “What were those things?”

  One of the men yelled out from behind him, “Isn’t it obvious? They were dragons of some manner! There is no other explanation for them. We need to leave this place and never tell anyone of what we saw here. If we do tell people what happened, we’ll be called insane, or worse.”

  Birilus shook his head. “No. We are not leaving.”

  A collective gasp erupted from the remaining men.

  Ferian looked at his friend in silence for a moment before walking up to him. “Birilus, those dragons just killed more than two-thirds of our men and we were hardly able to defend ourselves. Let us also consider that as large and terrifying as those creatures were, they were not nearly big enough to account for the footprint we saw near that huge carcass. Nor were they big enough to have unleashed the roar we heard earlier! It is entirely possible that the creatures who just slaughtered us were infants!”

  Birilus pointed to the side of the mountain heading back into the valley. “It doesn’t look like those creatures can climb or stand the cold. We will complete our mission by moving along the side of the mountain facing the valley. If we come across another threat, we can climb higher up or move to the cold side of the mountain. If we proceed in this manner, we can map out this section of the valley and then return with news of what we faced here and report it to Hannibal. From there, it will be for him to decide if the perils of the valley or the Romans present the greater threat.”

  Chapter 1

  Teratos, Northernmost European Stronghold of Carthage 264 BC

  The sun had not yet risen when the young man sat up, scratched his short beard, and exited his tent. As he stepped outside of the structure, he took a deep breath of the hot desert air. He imagined the breath filling up his six and a half foot tall bronze body, enriching it from his head down to the bottom of his feet. He then walked over toward the mountain behind which the sun would soon rise.

  The young giant arched his back and stretched the bulging muscles which ran across his shoulders. He was not one for contemplation or admiration of the world’s natural beauty. He had not been born nor trained to entertain thoughts such as those, but today was a unique day. One way or another, today would be the last day of his life. The Behemoth Master had died. The warrior who had won the legendary name had fallen in battle against the Romans. While the man had died, the Behemoth Master would live on. For while man was mortal, the Behemoth Master was undying. The Behemoth Master lived on through the ages to wage war throughout history until the gods themselves would rise up from the depths of the Earth, to challenge mankind itself in the final battle.

  As the sun rose over the mountain, the warrior mused that perhaps the sun in some way represented a reflection of him. On the previous day, the sun had set, giving way to the night. At the end of the night, the sun was once more rising into the sky, banishing the darkness from Carthage. The warrior ran his hand through his wooly hair as the sun peeked over the mountain. He continued to look toward the mountains and wondered if he was to be the sun that would chase a different kind of darkness away from Carthage, or like the night, would he fade from existence?

  Like
all heirs, he was the product of a mating between a previous potential Behemoth Master and a warrior woman, known as a potential Harpy. For centuries, the Carthaginians had entertained the practice of selective breeding to create a brigade of ultimate warriors. When the process had first started, the largest and most skilled fighters of both sexes were selected to mate with each other in order to ensure that their offspring would be colossal in stature and unmatched in strength. Over time, the most powerful male warrior was given the title of Behemoth Master and the strongest female warrior was given the title of Harpy. The original Behemoth Master was skilled in the use of war elephants in battle and as such, he was placed in command of the city’s elephant brigade. The original Harpy was the finest horse rider in the city and as such, she was placed in charge of Carthage’s mounted division.

  The original Behemoth Master and Harpy would mate with warriors of the opposite sex and produce what would be known as the heirs. The heirs would be trained from birth to be prepared to take the role of either the Behemoth Master or the Harpy when the previous holder of the name died in battle. The potential warrior classes of both genders would mate with each other to ensure a line of powerful warriors. The pairing of the warriors was overseen by a figure known as the Patriarch who ensured that no warriors mated with someone who was closely related to them. Additionally, were an unusually gifted warrior to be born out of the citizenry, they also would be allowed to mate with the warriors to help keep the bloodlines diluted.

  The heir shifted his head to the left, causing his neck to crack, and as he did so, he left his philosophical thoughts behind him. He had more pressing matters to attend to as today was the last day of his current life. He would either earn a name and become the new Behemoth Master, or he would die and be left out for the animals to feed on as had the other heirs who had tried to attain a name and failed.