The Spook 9 - Slither's tale (21 page)

Read The Spook 9 - Slither's tale Online

Authors: Delaney Joseph

Tags: #Paranormal

NESSA

I WAS IN
Slither’s quarters, my thoughts in turmoil, endlessly pacing back and forth across the small room allocated to me. The door was locked, and would remain so until their return.

I remembered the arena and how Slither had graphically described what might happen. I saw in my mind’s eye the terrible Haggenbrood holding the grille with a taloned hand. Slither had stamped upon it and treated the creature with disdain, but it had never been defeated in previous trials. How would the mage fare when all three selves attacked him in the arena?

And what of Grimalkin, the witch assassin? She was formidable and had dark magic at her disposal. She was so confident too – so very sure of herself. But if the Haggenbrood proved victorious, then my sisters would both die.

I heard footsteps approaching Slither’s quarters, and the voices of the beast and the witch. Then a child crying. It sounded like poor Bryony. She must have been traumatized by the events in the arena, but despite that, my heart soared with joy. They were here. They had triumphed, surely . . . Otherwise they would be dead. They had won, and soon we would be able to leave this cursed city!

Then the key turned in the lock and the door of my room was opened wide. I stepped out to look at each of them in turn. Suddenly my heart sank.

Where was Susan?

‘I did my best, little Nessa,’ Slither said, and for the first time he was unable to meet my gaze, ‘but your poor sister succumbed to the terrible tawny death. Her brain turned to mush, her eyes fell back into her skull and her flesh slid from her bones. The pain was terrible, but she is at peace now. We must be thankful for that.’

‘What?’ I cried. ‘What do you mean? Where is Susan?’

‘She is dead, as I have tried to explain. One fatality was a small price to pay for such a glorious victory – surely you agree that it is better than all of us being dead.’

‘But you promised!’ I said, my throat and chest tightening
so
that I could hardly breathe. ‘You promised my father to keep my sisters safe!’

‘I did my best, Nessa, but the odds against us were great. I could do no more than what I did.’

Tears sprang from my eyes and I fell to my knees beside the sobbing Bryony and held her close. I felt betrayed. I had sacrificed myself just as my father had demanded, but for what?

‘Say nothing more,’ Grimalkin said to Slither. ‘Your words do not help.’

I was aware of their footsteps fading as they retreated to the far corner of the large room, leaving Bryony and me alone in our pocket of misery.

I was in two places at once – my imagination recreating the horror of poor Susan’s death; the other part of my mind listening to the conversation between Slither and the witch, which was still just audible to me.

‘The two surviving girls
both
deserve to be taken south to live in peace with their relatives,’ I heard Grimalkin say. She was a witch, but it was good that she took our side.

‘I will keep my promise regarding the younger purra,’ Slither replied. ‘But I intend to sell Nessa in the slave market, as is my right. After all, she belongs to me. She is my chattel. I must abide by the law of Bindos or become an outlaw. Records are kept, and after my triumph in the arena my notoriety will guarantee that I am closely watched. The High Mages will seize upon any excuse to bring me down. So do you intend to hinder me?’

I looked up and saw the witch shake her head. ‘We made a trade and I will keep to it. I always keep my word. But where is the slave market of which you speak?’

‘It is held within the large kulad called Karpotha, seventy leagues directly southwest of Valkarky, in the foothills of the Dendar Mountains.’

‘Does it hold many slaves?’

‘It is the largest of all our purrai markets, but the numbers vary according to the season. The end of winter heralds the first of the auctions. In about a week’s time the first big spring market will be held there. Hundreds of purrai will be sold and bought within its walls before being taken in chains back to Valkarky.’

Grimalkin was silent for almost a minute and seemed to be deep in thought. At last she spoke again. ‘Where do your own women dwell?’ she asked. ‘Within the walls of your city I found no trace of them.’

I saw the look of dismay on Slither’s face, and he seemed to stagger as if the question had shocked him to the core of his being.

‘We Kobalos do not talk of such things,’ he replied, clearly outraged. ‘To ask such a question is a flagrant breach of etiquette.’

‘But I am an outsider,’ Grimalkin replied. ‘One foreign to your customs and beliefs. So I ask you to answer my question so that I may learn.’

‘I too would like an answer!’ I called angrily across the room. ‘You are hiding something – I feel sure of it!’

Slither glanced quickly towards me, but his answer was directed at Grimalkin. ‘Our females were called
Slarinda
; they have been extinct for over three thousand years.’

‘Extinct? How could that happen? And how do you continue your species without females?’ she demanded.

Slither answered her second question first. ‘Kobalos males are born of purrai – human females held prisoner in the skleech pens.’

The witch nodded. ‘Why did the Slarinda all die?’ she persisted.

‘It is a tale of madness, of a time when our whole people must have become temporarily insane. All our women were executed in a vast arena; once its inner doors were shut fast, it could be flooded. And on that day of madness it was flooded with blood.’

‘What?! You murdered all your women?’ I screamed out, clutching the sobbing Bryony even tighter. ‘What manner of filthy beasts are you?’

I saw Slither’s tail quiver upright against his back, as it sometimes did when he was annoyed or faced danger. But he didn’t so much as glance in my direction. It was as if I had not spoken.

‘The Kobalos females were dragged in groups down the steps,’ he said slowly. ‘Their throats were cut and they were suspended from chains that hung from the high roof of the stadium – until all the blood had drained out of their bodies, pooling upon the ice of the arena floor. It did not freeze, for warm air blew from conduits in the sides of the arena.

‘The work was carried out quickly and efficiently. Once a body had been drained, it was removed from its chain and carried back up the steps; immediately, another took its place. The females did not resist; most approached their death with bowed heads and resignation. A few cried out in fear at the approach of the knife; very occasionally, a shrill scream was to be heard echoing across the vastness of the stadium.

‘For seven days the work went on, until gradually the arena was filled with blood, almost to shoulder height. From time to time, the mages stirred in small dilutions of other liquids so that it should not congeal. Finally this work of madness was accomplished. At the end of the seventh day, the last female had been killed, and our race now consisted of only males. The path had been cleared; the weakness excised; the stain washed clean. That is what they believed had been achieved.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Grimalkin said. ‘Which weakness do you speak of?’

‘It was thought that females made us weak. That they softened males with their wiles and undermined the savagery that is necessary to be a warrior.’

‘Do
you
believe that?’ Grimalkin asked, staring into the eyes of Slither.

He shook his head. ‘A warrior must always guard against a softening of his nature, but it can come from many sources. It was an act of madness to kill our females, though all societies can temporarily lapse into insanity.’

I felt sick, but was astonished to hear Grimalkin say, ‘Yes, I think you are correct.’

‘Of course, such events are hard to forecast, but in the case of my own people I’m sure that the madness will return. And I know the circumstances that will bring it about.’

‘Have you seen this? Or is it common knowledge amongst your people?’ Grimalkin demanded.

‘It is a faith that our people blindly hold to. But we mages have probed the future and think that it is very likely to occur again.’

‘When will that happen?’

‘I know not the “when” but I know the “why”,’ Slither replied. ‘When our god, Talkus, is born, Kobalos strength will be tripled, and we will surge out of Valkarky in a holy war that will wipe humankind from the face of this world. That is what my people believe. They will embrace the insanity of total war.’

‘I thank you for being truthful,’ Grimalkin said. ‘The history of your people is terrible – it explains why you steal human women and practise slavery. I oppose such a thing with every fibre of my being; however, I will keep my word regarding your sale of Nessa. I will leave your city secretly, but will join you again soon. First I will escort you on your journey south to deliver the younger sister to her aunt and uncle. Finally I will accompany you as you travel towards the Dendar Mountains. I wish to see the kulad of Karpotha where human females are traded.’

Hearing her words, I could not prevent a sob from escaping
my
lips. For a moment I had thought that Grimalkin might stand up to Slither and demand that I be given my freedom to go with Bryony. Now I saw that she would honour her promise to him – a beast amongst beasts! These animals had killed their own females, and now I was to be delivered into their filthy hands.

WE LEFT VALKARKY
on good mounts, shod in the Kobalos manner so that they could walk more easily through the snow. Our saddlebags contained grain to feed the horses and, additionally, sufficient oscher to meet any emergencies. We also had provisions of our own for the journey.

There was no sign of the witch. She had done as she’d said and left Valkarky secretly, riding on ahead.

The two purrai had stopped their sobbing at last, but they looked pale, their eyes downcast, evidently still in the grip of grief. I shook my head at their foolishness. What was done was done. There was no profit in dwelling on
it
. The minds of humans were indeed weak.

At the gate the High Mage, Balkai, the most senior of the Triumvirate, said a bitter farewell to me. A poor loser, he was scowling as we parted ways. I knew that he had no love for haizda mages; he was made uneasy by the fact that we worked alone, far from the city, and thus beyond his scrutiny and control.

‘You ride away an apparent victor,’ he said, leaning close and whispering into my right ear so that those in attendance could not hear. ‘Your shakamure magic may have helped you to survive a little while longer, but your days are numbered.’

‘I did not use my magic in the arena,’ I replied truthfully. ‘However, before I arrived here I used it quite legally in order to reclaim my purrai. It is my right. It is an expression of what I am!’

‘We cannot forget what you have done – you haizdas must be taught a lesson. It is nothing personal – just an exercise of power to maintain our rule. Eblis, foremost of the Shaiksa, will come after you; he will be armed with the Kangadon, the Lance of Power.’

‘The trial has exonerated me and allowed me to go free, with my purrai acknowledged as my own. In sending an assassin after me you act illegally!’ I hissed defiantly.

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