Free Casca 17: The Warrior by Barry Sadler Page A

Am I falling in love with life?" He recalled his bout of seasickness when the curse of an eternity of soldiering looked positively inviting compared to one more minute of seasickness, and any form of death more inviting still.
    He picked up the great war club and raced up the rest of the slope, heading for the last man in the rear rank. A few yards short, the man heard or sensed him and half turned. Casca let out a great whoop and hurled himself forward, the great club swinging for the thick helmet of black hair.
    The blow never reached home. Taken by surprise as he was, the Lakuvi warrior just had time to bring up his club and block the blow.
    The shock of the impact very nearly wrenched the club from Casca's grasp. The warrior was knocked out of the line and a little away from his comrades.
    Sonolo couldn't see Casca and didn't know what was happening, but realized there was some disturbance in that corner of the enemy's ranks and feinted for the other side.
    The Lakuvi squad danced away, leaving Casca and the single warrior on their own.
    The warrior hurled himself at Casca. He managed to block the blow, but again almost lost the club.
    "Shit, this isn't as easy as it looks," he muttered as he aimed another flailing blow at the black head.
    Again the muscle-wrenching clash, and Casca felt his arm growing numb. And the nearest of the enemy warriors was now turning in his direction, their front ranks having succeeded in parrying Sonolo's blind feint.
    Casca wearily brought up the club as his enemy swung for his head. At the last moment, instead of parrying the blow with his club, he pivoted on his heel, swaying out of the way. The momentum of his effort carried the warrior past him, and Casca continued his pivot and brought a crashing blow down on the back of his head.
    Too late , he thought, as he saw three more enemy rushing toward him. He dropped the club and pulled the revolver from his belt.
    But the enemy warriors stopped dead as they saw their comrade fall. They dropped their clubs and turned and ran away down the slope. In another second the rest of the Lakuvi men realized what had happened and ran too. The war chief, last to see the defeat, turned and ran after them.
    Now Sonolo realized what had happened and came running to Casca, whooping delightedly as he hugged him. In a second he was surrounded by gleeful warriors all trying to hug him.
    They picked up the unconscious enemy and lifted him above their heads. From the palisade came a great cheer, then a louder one as everybody inside the village realized that they were victorious.
    Half a dozen warriors carried the body to the village while the others raced after the retreating enemy to secure some of their canoes. Abandoned clubs were all over the field. Casca accompanied the body into the village, surrounded by the entire population cheering lustily.
    Casca noticed that the body was carried with respect, almost with affection. As it was placed on the ground in the square he saw that some of the women who had been cheering so lustily only a moment earlier were now crying.
    A number of men were digging a hole and others were bringing stones and firewood and pots full of hot coals. Women were bringing great armfuls of banana leaves and calabashes and gourds full of water.
    Semele squatted cross-legged on the ground, and the unconscious warrior was placed before him, the feet toward him. Those who had carried the body ended their slow chant and also squatted beside the body. Casca stood looking down at the man's head. He seemed to be in a deep coma, and would no doubt be dead very soon.
    Semele beckoned Casca, and when he approached the old chief stood up, indicating that Casca should sit in his place. Casca did so and a great cheer went up from all the village people.
    Sandy had appeared from somewhere. "He's just made you a chief, mon," he said. "You're a war chief now, I'm thinkin'."
    Casca realized that Sandy was right. "Hell," he muttered, "I don't want the