Curse: The Dark God Book 2 (12 page)

Ke picked up a sweet apple tart from Bain, and then he and River left.

“Talen,” Black Knee called and motioned for him to come over. The man was sitting over by the barracks on a chair with his wounded and bandaged leg propped up on a barrel. The wives of Rooster and Shroud sat with him.

Talen walked over to them. Black Knee had sawn off his beard and hair to mourn the loss of those two good men. Big clumps of hair still lay on the ground about him. Both women’s eyes were red. Talen loosened the purse at his waist. It contained dice and a small bit of money. He removed the money and, as was customary for a fist mate, shared it between them. “It’s not much,” he said. “But it’s what I have.” They accepted the money. Black Knee asked Talen to relate his tale from that night, and Talen did. When he finished, they talked about Rooster and Shroud and their children. Talen knew what it was to lose a parent. Eventually the conversation wound down, and the two women left.

When they were gone, Black Knee said, “I have no doubt the ancestors came to collect those two. They were good men from good lines.”

“And Felts?” Talen asked.

Black Knee shook his head. “That one I can’t explain. Half of me hopes some fright or howler shreds his soul. The other half hopes he makes it. I don’t know what turned him.”

“Does it matter?”

Black Knee shrugged.

“Sugar isn’t back yet,” said Talen.

“She carried me out of danger. You know that, don’t you?”

Talen nodded.

“She’s not your everyday girl, that one.”

“No,” Talen agreed.

“From here on out, I’m going to be looking out for her. And I won’t be standing for any louts.” He gave Talen a look meant to include him.

“I don’t think Sugar is susceptible to louts. Of course, if any suitable men find out you’re involved, it just might turn them off.”

“I’ll show you turned off,” Black Knee threatened.

“Except you’d have to catch me first. A highly improbable proposition.”

Black Knee lunged forward in his seat, but Talen danced back.

“Get back here, you runty thing,” Black Knee said. “Let’s try that again.”

“I think I like my current position.”

“Oh,” Black Knee said. “The young lad shows signs of intelligence. I’ll tally one in your favor.”

“Splendid,” Talen said, but a fat lot of good it would do if she didn’t come back.

“Don’t be fretting about her. She outran the Fir-Noy once. She’ll do it again.”

“I earnestly hope so.”

“She will,” Black Knee said. “Mark my words.”

* * *

About fifteen minutes later Talen was out with the other eight members of his fist unloading a cartful of firewood in the outer bailey, when Sugar came riding through the gate with that foreign sleth Urban, him with his fine clothes and glittering eyes. Two of his crew rode behind with three children up on their horses with them.

Talen dropped his wood on the pile and ran to meet them. Legs beat him to her. Despite his blindness, the boy could move quickly when he knew an area.

Sugar lighted off her horse to embrace her brother. Legs clung to her tightly.

“Took you long enough,” Talen said, coming up from behind.

Sugar turned. “Well, if you hadn’t shoved me, I could have gone with you and River.”

He gripped her shoulder. He wanted to embrace her, but the maddening smell of her soul called out to him, and he quickly turned and took the reins of her horse. Urban dismounted. His one eye was puffed up and dark with bruising.

“You ran into trouble then?” Talen asked.

“I ran into her elbow,” Urban said. “Or rather, it ran into me.”

Talen looked at her questioningly.

Sugar said, “I thought he was one of the Famished.”

“The Famished?”

“He grabbed my knife hand. I was half out of my mind with thirst and hunger.”

“Lucky for me she wasn’t full strength,” Urban said with a smile.

“She’s a bruiser for sure,” said Talen. “Always pummeling the candidates with her fists.”

“You think she’d look worse for the wear,” Urban said.

“Not when I fight slow boys like you.”

Talen laughed.

“Thanks for finding her,” Legs said.

“Oh, it was our pleasure,” said Urban. “In fact, you might say it’s our specialty, finding lost and abandoned things.”

They began to walk toward the inner bailey. As they did, Sugar reached out and squeezed Talen’s hand. It startled him.

“Thanks for what you did back in Plum,” she said.

The scent of her Fire and soul, her attractive eyes, they all disoriented him a bit. “What are you talking about?”

“Drawing their attention.”

“Drawing their attention?”

“The insults and loud shouting.”

“Ah,” Talen said, and realized he had done that. He took on a feigned noble air. “I was rather heroic, wasn’t I? I don’t suppose your dainty-nosed weaver would have thought of that.”

Sugar groaned, rolled her eyes, and tossed his hand.

Despite his hunger, he wanted to grab it back again. “Who knew my mouth could prove to be so useful.”

“The weapon of kings,” Legs said.

The oldest child with Urban rubbed his eye. His tattoo proclaimed him a Fir-Noy. “Who are these?” Talen asked.

“We found the children and Sugar in Redthorn,” Urban said.

“Redthorn? That’s not the most direct route out of Fir-Noy lands.”

“I wasn’t thinking of direct,” Sugar said. “I was thinking of not dying.”

“But why bring them?” Talen asked.

“It was awful,” she said. “The village was slaughtered. Talen, some great evil is abroad. We need to find Argoth and Shim.”

They hurried into the inner bailey and gave their horses to grooms to take to the stables. Then Talen hurried with Sugar and Urban to Shim’s quarters. On the way, Black Knee saw her and rose up on a crutch. He tried to hobble over, but Sugar ran to him instead and gave him a hug. “You didn’t play the fool after all,” she said. “I’m so happy you avoided yourself a curse.”

“Aye,” said Black Knee. “I didn’t dare disobey.” He grimaced from the pain in his leg and sat back down. “I’m going to be wanting to hear your tale,” he said.

“You’ll have the long version,” Sugar promised.

Then Sugar went into Shim’s clerk and had him call the lord. A little while later, Talen, Ke, River, Argoth, Shim, and the Creek Widow all assembled in Shim’s chamber.

12

Plan of War

ARGOTH LISTENED to Sugar and Urban make their reports. When they finished, Argoth knelt down in front of the children and took the girl’s hand. “I have a daughter about your age. What are you? Five years old?”

The girl nodded.

“She’s four,” the oldest boy corrected.

Argoth looked at them. “I need you to tell me everything. We need to stop whoever did this. Maybe you saw something that can help us.”

“You’re Shoka,” the oldest boy said.

“You’re right. The Fir-Noy and Shoka are angry with each other. But we’re all still Mokaddians, aren’t we?”

“We want to go to our Uncle’s,” he said.

“We’ll take you back, I promise. But I need you to tell me what happened. I need you to start from the beginning and not leave out any details. Will you do that?”

The boy nodded.

Then he told the story. The whole village as well as some neighbors had turned out for the Apple Dance festivities. It had been a celebration like all the others that had been held with dance and food and laughter. But just at dusk that all changed. The heart of the cherry orchard had turned black. Nobody had noticed until the pained cry of a hound drew their attention. They thought the darkness was a trick of the evening shadows, so a man went into the orchard, calling for his dog. He disappeared into the blackness and never came out.

They were about to send more men in when long ragged arms of black vapor began to stretch out between the trees and down the rows. The arms of vapor reached out to the grassy spot where the villagers were celebrating. Snakes of it curled up and around people’s limbs. At first nothing happened, and then one of the old farmers cried out and fell. The whole village turned to run, but it was too late. The mists attacked them.

The children’s mother hid them in the upper reaches of their barn. But she wasn’t able to close the barn doors and the mists caught her. One slithered into her mouth and she fell to her knees. The second boy had wanted to go to her aid, but other mists flowed into the barn. And then a pair of men came along, hauled their mother to her feet, and dragged her away. The mists in the barn did not bother the men, but the children didn’t trust it for it lay along the dirt at the bottom of the barn, moving even though there was no wind.

The children peered through a knot hole to see where the men were taking their mother.They saw something come out of the orchard, something tall with horns. Odd lavender flames flashed around the thing, but they never could get a good look at it. The children soon turned from the peephole, pressing deep into the hay and plugging their ears. But it didn’t block out the cries of pain that rose throughout the village. Sometime later the cries ceased.

“And the men who took your mother,” Argoth asked, “what did they look like?”

Tears began to spill from the little girl’s eyes.

“Their faces were painted red and yellow,” said the boy.

“Did you see their tattoos?”

“Like Bone Faces,” he said.

Argoth asked them a few more questions, but it was clear the children had told all.

“I bet you’re hungry,” Argoth said.

They nodded.

He called Shim’s clerk in to take them. But the children wouldn’t go with him and clung to Sugar and Urban.

Matiga said to Sugar, “Leave the things you retrieved here. Find them food and a place to sleep and where their uncle lives.” She pointed at Urban. “You go with her. And you, Talen, tell your brother I want a chat.”

Sugar led the childred out with Urban. When Talen shut the door behind himself, Shim said, “We’ve fought the Bone Faces for years. This isn’t Bone Faces.”

“Maybe the Bone Faces and Mokad are in league,” said Matiga. “We pose a common threat to both.”

“It’s clear our plans need to be speeded up,” Shim said.

“Argoth’s original time table was already too short to build an army of dreadmen by next spring,” said Eresh. “You can accelerate some learning, but the body can only be stretched so far. Developing someone into a dreadman takes time. Rush it, and you’ll just end up with a lot of broken men.”

“What other options do we have?”

“You can’t fight them here, bottled up in a fortress,” said Eresh. “You have no Skir Masters. If you try to stand against them toe to toe, they’ll pin you down with a barrage of wind. You’ll shoot your rain of arrows only to have their skir winds throw them off course. Then the winds will pound you with sand. You can wear goggles to keep it from blinding you, but mixed in with the sand will be shards of shale that will cut like knives. And then they’ll bring up the larger skir. They’ll slam hundred-pound stones into your gates and knock them to splinters, blow your men off the parapets. You cannot beat them by playing their game.”

“That was never our intent,” said Shim. “We always meant to fight them with ambush and raid, with sabotage and subterfuge. We meant to assassinate the Divines first. And when the snake’s head was cut off, we would then chop up the body. Without the Divines, the weaves of their dreadmen would soon run dry. Our army, on the other hand, would never run dry because we would teach each man and woman the lore. Because we wouldn’t be relying on weaves, Mokad would grow weaker as we grew stronger.”

“Killing a Divine is not as easy as it sounds,” said Eresh.

Argoth said, “We could flee. As distasteful as that option is, it must be on the table.”

Shim shook his head. “You can’t disappear a whole people. We’d have to leave the bulk of our clans behind. Leave our fair wives and children to become like Redthorn. I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“It might be your only option,” said Eresh.

“No,” said Shim.

“You cannot send candidates to contend with the terrors of Mokad,” said Eresh.

“Then let us force them to the next level,” said Argoth.

“I just told you,” said Eresh. “You’ll end up with broken men.”

Argoth said, “That’s not entirely true. It can be done in a way that minimizes the loss.”

Ke and Matiga raised their eyebrows in surprise.

“I’ve done it before,” Argoth said.

“How big is this loss?” asked Shim.

“Ten percent. Maybe a bit less.”

“Or maybe a bit more,” said Eresh. “Maybe a lot more.”

Forcing a man was like stuffing a burlap sack with something that was much too big for it. Some sacks stretched. Other sacks broke instead, ripping along a seam or some weak part of the weave. Likewise, some men could bear, up to a point, a sudden multiplication of their powers. In time their bodies and the bindings of the three vitalities matured and strengthened, and they could be forced again.

Others could not bear the added stress. Their bodies and bindings tore. And through the gaps their Fire poured forth in a rush. If it was not stopped, those who broke would die, sooner or later, in a muggy haze of firejoy. Of those that didn’t die, some of them could heal over a few months or years and try to wield their Fire again. Others became brittle and had to wear a governor the rest of their lives.

Shim sighed heavily. “I don’t want to lose one of our candidates.”

“That’s not your only problem,” said Eresh. “Three hundred weaves eat a prodigious amount of Fire. I’ve looked at your weaves. They are starting to run dry. I don’t think you have two week’s worth of Fire.”

“Then I will make another sacrifice,” said Shim.

Shim had already given huge amounts of Fire. Argoth didn’t know how much more the man had.

Shim saw Argoth’s look. “These soldiers follow me. They risked everything trusting my word. If I have to sacrifice all my Days in their service, I will do it.”

“I didn’t speak against it,” said Argoth.

“I will,” said Eresh. “You pour too much of yourself out, and you’ll be dead. Then who will lead them?”

“If this fails,” said Shim, “we’re all dead anyway.”

Up until this point, River had stood in the corner keeping her silence. She spoke now. “We’ll all make another sacrifice. And we’ll pray the ancestors bless us. But there’s more. Harnock has Fire,” said River. “He has the Book of Hismayas. There might be lore there that could help. We should send someone one more time to fetch him.”

“He will not leave the Wilds,” said Matiga. “Especially not with Divines here.”

“The book of Hismayas?” asked Eresh.

Argoth sighed. The book was supposed to contain great treasures of lore, the crown great treasures of power. Many had fought and killed for it. The Divines had stolen it; the Order had stolen it back. But the Book was beyond any of the Order.

“Lords, man,” said Eresh, “where is it?”

“It cannot be opened,” said Argoth. “It has killed all who have tried.”

“It hasn’t seen the likes of me,” said Eresh.

“And it won’t,” said Matiga. “It’s in Harnock’s hands. If you try to go there, he will slay you. I’m telling you: it is not an option.”

River shook her head. “He didn’t act that way toward me when I went with my father.”

“Harnock and your father had a bond,” Argoth said. “If we had time, we could work it out with him, and I would send you. But even if you got in, the book is sealed. What we need are Fire and dreadmen. We need you here helping us raise the candidates, not chasing a dicer’s dream.”

River sighed.

“Let us do as we planned at the beginning,” said Argoth, “although our chances are now stretched even thinner.”

“You cannot take retreat off the table,” said Eresh. “I suggest a time limit. We fight not just for the people in these lands. If we lose, there will be no mercy. They will exterminate every living thing associated with us. And the truth about the Divines will be lost.”

Matiga said, “The truth will only sound like lies until we can prove it over and over. What mankind needs is proof. We can shout the truth from the rooftops, but until we can prove it in their eyes, the truth will be labeled as just one more vile sleth heresy and turned against us.”

Eresh learned over to Argoth. “That one has some brains. A nice form. I think she’ll do nicely.”

“Careful,” said Argoth.

“Indeed I shall be,” said Eresh, delight shining in his one eye.

Matiga raised one eyebrow and gave him a look that pegged him somewhere slightly above a toad.

Shim said, “We’ll prepare to carry the truth into the wilderness. But now is not the time to retreat. Now is the time to kill the snake that is before us.”

“We’ll need reconnaissance,” said Ke. “And tactics. They’re going to bring a Skir Master or three in. The chief Skir Master is the one we need to target first. He’ll have rings of security about him. And you can be sure he’ll bring kitemen. It’s going to be very tricky approaching him with them watching everything from the skies.”

“And,” said Argoth, “if I know Mokad, they will have a few dogmen on the ground.”

“Toth,” Eresh spat. “I never liked that country.”

“It’s going to be very difficult to find a weakness,” said Argoth. “Especially if we only have a matter of days to do it.”

“What about the Victor’s crown?” Shim asked. “Have you repaired it?”

Argoth sighed and shook his head. They had thought it impervious, but later found that the Devourer had damaged it in the battle in the cave. The lore was ancient, and none that now lived fully understood it. “We have tried everything we know; it still eludes us.”

“What about that Flax of the Hand?” River asked. “Why don’t we bring him into this council?”

“No,” Eresh bristled. “The Hand thinks only of itself. You will rely on them to your sorrow.”

“Surely they have dealt with this before,” said River. “More than any of us, they know how to hunt Divines.”

“What they know is how to turn their backs on their allies. That is all they know.”

“They have killed Divines,” said Shim.

“They have killed loremen as well.”

“Master Kish,” said Matiga. “You’re going to have to get along.”

Eresh licked his bottom lip. “Oh, I’ll get along, your most formidable loveliness, right up until the time he and his betray you. And then I’ll be there with my knife to carve out his throat.”

“I’ll take that as an oath,” said Shim. “And seeing how much you protest those who break their oaths, I expect it will be worth something.”

“Aye,” said Eresh, “worth my weight in Hand blood.”

“We still don’t have a decision,” Matiga said.

Shim said, “We will prepare to move out and break into smaller units that can hide more easily. Two days from now there will be nothing but a small number left here to make the enemy think this is still our base. For the rest of us, our mission is to locate the Divines sent against us.”

“The Skir Master must fall in the first stroke,” said Eresh. “He must be the prime target. We’ll be lucky if we get one chance, and we don’t want to be wasting it on lesser targets.”

“Agreed,” said Shim. Then he turned to the pack Sugar left on the table. “Now let us see if Purity left us anything that might be helpful.”