Valley of the Dinosaurs Read online

  The heir and would be Behemoth Master walked to the tent of the maidens who would prepare him for battle and his ascension or death. The heir walked into the tent of the maidens who had a tub full of hot water waiting for him. They would bath the heir and then cover his body in oils that would anoint him for whichever journey he was about to engage in. The heir stepped into the basin of hot water and sat down in it. Three beautiful maidens walked over to the massive basin and positioned themselves around him. One of the maidens positioned herself in front of him and began to wash his chest, one his back, and the third his feet and legs. The maidens all stared at him with desire. They knew it was his right to have his way with any or all of them if he pleased. The maidens were aware of this fact and did their best to entice the heir into choosing to mate with them. Not only were they attracted to his massive physique but also to the promise of what mating with him would entail.

  If one of them was to successfully mate with the heir, they would produce a future warrior for Hannibal’s army. As the mother of an infant sired by an heir, they would be given superior housing, food, and access to other amenities in order to ensure that the child would grow into the finest soldier possible.

  As they bathed him, the maidens moved in such a way that the most intimate areas of their bodies brushed against the heir. The heir was fully cognizant that the maidens were trying to seduce him. Typically, he would have accepted their advances but today he had no desire to tire himself out engaging in pleasurable activities when the chance to ascend to Behemoth Master was his to win.

  The heir allowed himself to rest in the hot waters as the maidens finished their task then he stood and exited the bath. He donned his pants as that was the extent of clothing allowed of the upcoming encounter. As he stepped out of the tent, he heard the drumbeat signaling that the time had arrived for the battle which would change his life or end it.

  The heir walked toward the center of the camp and the roped-off arena which would serve as his proving ground. When he reached the arena, he saw the other gathered heirs, as well as soldiers from the elephant brigade. Sitting upon a throne on a pedestal overlooking the arena was Hannibal himself. The heir entered the arena at the same time as his opponent from the opposite side. His opponent, like himself, was also a nameless heir. All of the heirs were nameless. They were trained from birth that they would either be known as an heir for their entire life or one day have the chance to earn the only name available to them: Behemoth Master. Despite not having a name, the heir was fully aware of who his opponent was. Throughout their upbringing together, the heir had watched as the man he was now facing had rivaled him in every training session and test they had endured as they reached adulthood. While the heir would never address his opponent by any true name, he had taken to thinking of his opponent as Death. The heir had decided upon this designation when it became clear that he and the man standing across from him would one day face each other in the arena they were now standing in. The heir knew that this meant either he would kill his opponent or his opponent would slay him. As such, the designation of Death seemed to fit the man, regardless of the outcome of their inevitable encounter.

  As large as the heir was, Death stood at least two inches taller than he did. He also outweighed the heir by at least twenty pounds. Despite the heir’s own prodigious physical strength, he knew that Death was stronger than he was. The heir had carefully studied the man he knew he would one day face for the title of Behemoth Master and his observations had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Death was stronger than he was.

  While the heir would never admit the fact to Death or anyone else, he accepted the fact himself. To do otherwise and convince himself of a non-truth would assure his defeat, but to acknowledge the fact and plan for it was a victory in and of itself. The heir had seen numerous other challengers to the title of Behemoth Master before him fail to accept that their opponent was stronger than they were and this often led to their defeat. The heir did not intend for that to be his fate. He intended to enter the arena as a nameless heir and to leave as the Behemoth Master.

  The heir and Death walked to the center of the arena and stared at each other for a brief moment. They then turned, stood side by side, and looked upon Hannibal who was staring down at them. The heir felt as if the great general was looking into the core of his very being and determining if he was worthy to lead his most prized battalion.

  After staring at both men for several seconds, Hannibal arose from his throne and addressed the two combatants. “The Behemoth Master has fallen in battle, and the war with the Romans still rages on! The Elephant Battalion requires a new leader! The two heirs before us have separated themselves from their peers. They have proven to be the strongest, the fastest, the most adept at controlling the mighty elephants, and the most knowledgeable of battle tactics.” Hannibal let his words echo across the gathered Carthaginians before he continued. “Both of these heirs would make fine additions to the Elephant Battalion but only one of them can be the Behemoth Master. The Behemoth Master’s sway over the Elephant Battalion and its soldiers can be second only to me. There can be no perception that another in the ranks of the battalion that one other than the Behemoth Master is fit to lead them. As such, it is our custom that the two most worthy heirs will meet in mortal combat, to determine who shall ascend to the role of Behemoth Master!” Hannibal shifted his gaze toward the two combatants. “Today, one of you will earn your identity while the other wanders the afterlife nameless. One of you will earn the right to be the sole mate of the Harpy and produce a future heir while the other will leave this world without legitimate offspring.” Hannibal shook his head. “With each passing day, the danger presented to Carthage by Rome grows. I could continue listing the rewards for which you will battle, but I lack the time to do so. Carthage needs me to lead its army to victory, and I need a Behemoth Master to lead the Elephant Battalion. Now, most worthy heirs, take your positions and either earn your name or earn a respectable death!”

  The people of Carthage cheered as the heir took three steps away from Death and faced his opponent. As the heir stared at his larger opponent, he clenched his fists and then loosened the rest of the muscles in his body. If he was to win this encounter and ascend to the role of Behemoth Master, he would have to do so using his speed and agility, not through brute strength. The heir had watched his opponent in numerous battles. The heir understood while Death’s physical size and strength were his greatest asset, but it was also his greatest weakness. Death overly relied on his size and strength and put little emphasis on studying his adversary. The heir had sparred with the man called Death on numerous occasions and each time, the heir had allowed Death to force him to the ground and then beat him into submission. Time and time again, the heir had taken a beating at the hands of his nemesis all with the knowledge that those beatings would lead to this day. The heir was hoping that the dozens of beatings he had taken at the hands of Death would lull the giant into a false sense of security. The heir had spent countless hours practicing a method to stop Death’s charge but he dared not utilize it in training or sparring, as even a dumb brute like Death might devise a way to overcome the heir’s counter.

  The heir shifted his thoughts back to the present. He briefly took his eyes off his opponent to see Hannibal raising his hand into the air. As the general brought his hand down to signify the start of the battle, the heir took a deep breath, then he and Death charged each other.

  The larger Death did exactly what the heir expected him to do. He rushed at the heir and tried to tackle him to the ground. To avoid allowing the heavier Death to pin him to the ground, the heir splayed out his legs behind him and wrapped his arms around Death’s throat. The heir felt his entire body shift backward with the force of Death’s charge. While the heir was forced back, his plan had worked. He was still on his feet and his right arm was secured around Death’s neck.

  Death was not expecting such a tactic. As the heir dug his chokehold deep into Death’s thro
at, the confused warrior continued to try and drive him backward and into the rope which represented the boundary of the arena. With each step Death took, the heir strained the muscles in his arms even harder, slowly causing Death’s neck to constrict even more.

  The heir felt his back press up against the rope around the arena. The thick twine bent beneath the combined weight of himself and Death. While the rope bent, it did not break. When the heir looked down to see Death’s face turning red from lack of air, he thought that the rope bending but refusing to break was an apt analogy for himself. The heir planted his feet and used his own powerful muscles to strangle Death as hard as he could. Realizing what was happening, Death started trying to pull away from the heir.

  The heir tried to steady his breathing and his arms screamed out in pain as he held onto his powerful opponent. Hoping that he would be in his current position, the heir had spent hours holding on to objects in his arms in as tight a grip as possible. He had even taken to applying the hold to horse and cattle to strengthen his grip and improve his stamina. The heir had once managed to hold onto a large horse for several minutes before it managed to break free from his grip. As Death continued to use his immense strength to try and break free, the heir began to fear that his opponent may actually be stronger than the horse. In order to keep the hold applied to his opponent, the heir began to move with Death, taking a step forward for each step back that his adversary took. By moving with his opponent, the heir was able to prolong the amount of time he kept Death in the hold.

  In an act of desperation, Death began to deliver punch after punch to the heir’s ribs. While the first strike shifted the heir’s ribcage, every subsequent punch was delivered with less power. The heir did his best to ignore the pain in his ribs and focus on choking Death. As the minutes passed, Death’s blows were slower, as well as fewer. When the heir felt Death’s, body go limp in his arms, the soon-to-be Behemoth Master pulled up and back as hard as he could. A sickening crack could be heard across the arena as the heir broke the neck of the man whom he had designated as Death.

  When he heard the snap, the heir finally relaxed his exhausted arms and let the body of his opponent fall to the ground. There was a hush over the gathered crowd for several seconds until Hannibal stood and declared. “People of Carthage, I give you the Behemoth Master!”

  The newly named Behemoth Master stood awestruck as the people of Carthage shook the very ground with their cheers of admiration. Hannibal walked down to greet the new Behemoth Master. The newly crowned and exhausted leader of the Elephant Brigade couldn’t help but smile when the legendary general placed his hand on his shoulder.

  Hannibal nodded in approval at the Behemoth Master. “While I can see that you are powerful, a true leader wins a battle not only through his own strength but by exploiting the weakness of his enemy.” Hannibal gestured toward the corpse of Death. “Clearly, you have studied this man’s tactics and developed countermeasures for them.” The general looked back into the eyes of the Behemoth Master. “If you are able to replicate these tactics with your enemies on the battlefield, I foresee many great victories in your future.”

  The Behemoth Master nodded in reply. “Thank you, general.”

  Hannibal waved toward the podium on which he was sitting and as he did so, a well-built woman with raven-black hair and scars on her arms, shoulders, and even face approached the arena. The Behemoth Master recognized the woman as the Harpy. This warrior woman was the leader of Hannibal’s fierce horse-mounted division of female warriors. When the Harpy approached them, Hannibal grabbed her hand and placed it into the hand of the Behemoth Master. The general then proclaimed, “As Behemoth Master and Harpy, the two of you are given the honor and responsibility of not only leading Carthage’s two most elite brigades, and defending the city and its people, but you are also expected to produce future heirs who will one day contented with the city’s other warriors to take your place.”

  The Behemoth Master looked at the Harpy. She was clearly several years older than he was and she had been the mate of the now previous Behemoth Master. While not as strikingly beautiful as some of the maidens he had previously mated with, the Harpy had ferocity about her that he found alluring. As far as he knew, the Harpy had not given birth to any children from the previous Behemoth Master, despite the fact that they had been coupled together for several years. The answer as to why this was the case was only one of dozens of questions the Behemoth Master had for his new mate.

  Hannibal pulled their hands apart and said, “Now come. We must go and see the new Emperor.” The Behemoth Master knew that questions for his new mate would have to take place at a later time.

  Chapter 2

  Hannibal led both the Behemoth Master and the Harpy across the city of Carthage to the fields where the war elephants were grazing. No matter how many times he beheld them, the newly named Behemoth Master was awed by the magnificent beasts. The creatures were both powerful and graceful with each of their movements. It was the combination of strength and dexterity that exhibited the intelligence of the behemoths. As Hannibal led the way through the gathered elephants, the animals trumpeted loudly. It was as if they knew their king and general was in their midst. The calls of the mighty beasts fell silent as a trumpet loud enough to drown out the calls of the rest of the animals echoed across the sky.

  When the troop of elephants heard the loud trumpet, they all turned in the direction of the call. Hannibal smiled as the troop parted to reveal an elephant of enormous proportions. As the massive elephant walked through the troop, the other animals bowed their heads in a show of submission to the alpha that strode through them. The Behemoth Master gasped when he saw the Emperor walking toward him.

  Like the potential heirs, the largest, most intelligent, and most fleet-footed elephants were entered into a selective breeding program. This program ensured a steady supply of war-ready elephants and each new birth cycle gave rise to several potential Emperors. The people of Carthage had decided to refer to their most powerful elephant as the Emperor, both as a compliment to the beast and an insult to Caesar.

  Like the potential heirs, the colossal elephants who were in contention for the title of Emperor engaged in battles to determine who would assume the role of alpha male. Aside from ruling the other elephants, the Emperor also served as the personal mount of the Behemoth Master. When the previous Emperor had died in battle along with his master, through what seemed like some profound extra sensory input, the bull elephants that were still in Carthage seemed to suddenly realize that their former alpha had perished. The normally calm bulls suddenly became enraged and began clashing with each other.

  It only took a few skirmishes for the two largest males to assert themselves. Much like the new Behemoth Master had to vanquish his lifelong rival, so did the new Emperor have to destroy his nemesis. After a long and bloody battle, the elephant who had attained the role of Emperor slew his enemy. The massive creature’s body was now covered in scars that he wore as badges of honor.

  Hannibal pointed at the creature as he addressed the Behemoth Master. “Go and introduce yourself, to the creature who shall lead my forces with you.”

  The Behemoth Master lifted his hand in front of himself as he walked toward the massive pachyderm. The young warrior made sure to convey a sense of strength and command to the creature while also making it clear that he had no desire to harm the animal.

  As the Behemoth Master approached the Emperor, the mighty elephant lowered his head toward the ground. When the Behemoth Master placed his hand on the rough skin of the elephant’s trunk, he immediately felt a kinship with the creature. They had both been born and bred to fight for the positions they had recently attained. Both the Behemoth Master and the Emperor had transitioned from a life with only the possibility of having purpose to the greatest position that either of them could hold.

  The Behemoth Master was fully aware that Carthage had placed the Behemoth Masters and Emperors of the past on similar paths so that they wo
uld feel a connection to each other. Despite the fact that the connection the Behemoth Master now felt toward the Emperor was contrived, it was still real. The warrior knew that he and the elephant had lived nearly the same life, and he also somehow knew that the elephant felt the same way.

  The sense of the connection with the creature was solidified when the Harpy walked up beside him and said softly into his ear, “The relationship between the Behemoth Master and the Emperor is one that is built over generations and passed down through the ages. The two of you have been both been bred and trained to work together. Each of you has proven yourself worthy of the position you have attained. Throughout the rest of your life, you shall never have an ally who is more loyal or powerful than you now have in this beast.” She took a deep breath. “Your predecessor’s elephant died defending him.” She closed her eyes. “I can still see him, skewered with a spear lying on the ground, bleeding to death. As he bled out, the former Emperor stood over his master and crushed countless Roman soldiers as they rushed to land the killing blow on my lover.”

  The Behemoth Master looked away from the Harpy as she bit her lip and breathed through her nose. In the city of Carthage and perhaps the entirety of the world, there was no warrior as fearless as the Harpy. The scars on her body indicated that she had been injured several times in battle over the years. Still, the people who spoke of her prowess as a warrior insisted that despite being stabbed by spears and shot by arrows, the merest whimper did not escape her lips. The slight look of pain on her face at the thought of her former husband indicated to the Behemoth Master that his predecessor was more than the Harpy’s mate. It was obvious that she clearly loved the man she had been coupled with.

  The Behemoth Master ran his hand across his brow as a new thought crossed his mind. He had been striving for this role his entire life and the responsibilities that came with it. He was prepared to lead men and animals, he was anxious to fight the tyranny of Rome, and he was excited to travel to new lands and see the splendor of the world.