World's End (27 page)

From the voices which carried through the abandoned village it was clear to Siel that in the mayor's group someone was arguing. She listened at the window in Gorb's abandoned home. Through the parted curtains she could just make out their campfire. There'd been a little preserved bread and meat in Gorb's cupboard, somehow missed by whoever had taken the rest of his store. Despite the preservation it had begun to go stale, but she ate it gladly.

She remembered Eric saying that his people in Otherworld knew none of those simple arts which kept bread and meat preserved; they had devices to do that, devices to do everything. She thought of that strange world, the brief sight she'd had of it with Kiown and the others. The strange dark sky alive with points of light, ‘stars'. Incomprehensible strangeness. Perhaps more strange than anything she'd seen in the world to the south.

How joyous and free she had been in the light of that huge suspended crystal. Ever her mind returned to it. She felt again the slow press of this weighty world coming down upon her. After coming out of those waves she'd been refreshed, cleansed of things which had caused her pain before. Memories of her
parents and their murder did not bother her any more. Yet now she was
here.
While things and places infinitely better waited elsewhere, she was still
here
…

The argument grew heated. Tauk's voice was loudest among them. Looking out the window she saw a silhouette marching away from a campfire. A short figure – perhaps Blain – hobbled after him, arms out, beseeching.

Siel let the curtain fall back. She smelled a kind of ending coming, as surely as animals could sniff out a storm. Her own life ending perhaps, or maybe the end of this world. Spending the last days hidden away like this would not do. Why walk meekly into the healing waters, when one could run and dive with flourish?

She had no bow, but there were blades left lying around, in this house and in others. Maybe she'd need no more than the murderously sharp short-sword she'd recovered from the litter of a caravan, not far from here. She laid the blades out over her bed, weighed each with care, strapped one to her ankle, the short-sword at her waist. She crept out the place's back doorway, crawled like a cat through the overgrown grass, the wind shielding her rustling movements till she was near enough to their fire to hear them.

Evelle's cackle was drunken. Siel knew little of the Hunter Evelle, but suddenly understood: Evelle was enlightened. In whatever she did, good or evil, she found divine purpose. There was great wisdom in that; Siel wished her own life had been similar.

A little away from the fire Tauk was snarling at Blain: ‘… or
your
schemes either. You're a treacherous wizard like the others, and I'm no one's general.'

Blain said, ‘Just play along for a while! We can slay him! If you or I possessed that amulet it would all change.'

‘No! No more scheming. I return to my city and my people. We have Otherworld weapons the half-giant brought us.
We
are the new rising force, not him, not you. At Tanton we shall not suffer anyone else's rule, man or beast, wizard or dragon.'

‘Dragons care not for flung rocks!' Blain cried. ‘Listen to yourself. I've had that little shit as my underling for these past weeks; I know his true nature. A wretched imprisoned thing, kicked and despised. His like should never rise to power! Not
him
as lord and master, anyone but him. Talk to Evelle! Defy him and you are stewed guts. You and your city. He'll never let you return there. Pledge allegiance, pucker up, bow and scrape. Then slay him, take his place! Take the amulet!'

‘
You
want the amulet yourself!'
Tauk roared at him. Angrily he marched away.

‘Shh!'

‘He has a
dragon
with him!' cried a third voice, one of Tauk's men who'd wandered over. ‘How do you suppose …?' Their talk drifted away as Blain scurried after the mayor.

Siel crept closer in the long grass. Stranger – a forlorn bundle – slept not far from the fire. Evelle swigged from a bottle enough liquor to put the hardest of warriors to shame. Siel could smell the bottle's contents from where she lay. Evelle swayed a little as she watched the men argue. Her smile was gleeful. Tauk's other man held a hand out for the bottle, which she passed to him.

Siel waited. She watched them all for a long while with deadly patience. Tauk's man by the fire – now as drunk as Evelle – lurched up, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and staggered past where Siel lay, seeking a tree to piss against. Silently Siel went nearer to him. Wind through the grass covered what little sound she made as she rose from her walking crouch, pulled
his head back by the hair. The man's last surprised breaths were liquid gargles. He fell and twitched for a while but died with little more fuss than that. Evelle's cackling laughter boomed out from the campfire.

Siel crept back to the hut to clean off the blood. She felt calm, even pleased. Perhaps what she'd just done had been murder, since the kill had not been in open combat. If so, it was the first time she'd murdered. Once, such a deed would have bothered her. But the man was in a happier place now, washing free his soul just as she washed his blood from her arms.

Something occurred to Siel for the first time as she dried herself: of all the creatures and life forms she'd seen marching to bathe in the crystal's waters, she had seen no dragons. Not one.

She went back to watch the others, maybe to catch them on their own too. Hunting game for food had never been this gratifying, nor had it made her feel this alive. None of the prey seemed to have noticed yet that a man was missing. The arguments went on: Blain persuading Tauk of some plan, or attempting to; Tauk's speech growing angrier and more violent. ‘I've seen you off in the woods,' said the mayor. ‘Just what in the fire god's
flames
are you doing there?'

‘Shh!' Blain pleaded. ‘Because of
him.
The bastard sapling means to rule us. That's why I go. I never know when he's coming back here, he and that dragon of his. I must keep my powers sharp for when he returns. Try it yourself, there's
power
to be had. But keep it quiet from the rest of them.'

With a nod Tauk sent his man back to the fire. ‘What power?' he demanded. ‘Try what?'

‘Come! I'll take you, you'll see.'

Blain hobbled as fast as his short legs would take him. Tauk
followed, a hand on his sword hilt. Siel followed them both, risking a dash out of the grass into the open, skirting around to the path leading into the woods. No one saw her. Soon they were in the same woods the dragon had drawn her to, down from the tower. The waters had cleaned away any shame or anger from that memory.

Blain and Tauk crouched now in a small clearing, murmuring quietly. Blain was digging something up, and there was nothing frail about his movements now. It was an opportunity to dash in, cut their throats, but she held off when an
arm
flopped out of the ground. Pale and slender. Blain washed the dirt off it with a canister of water. ‘Should it … should it not be cooked?' Tauk said.

‘No need. Blood's better, if it's fresh. O, it's worth a pretty sum too, the risk one takes to harvest it. Flesh will do us. Still potent magic in it, though not as sharp, nor lasting.'

‘How long has it been here? Why hasn't it rotted?'

‘They're not like people, these Invia. Their flesh lasts longer. This is not an attempt to poison you, Mayor. Watch. I'll eat first, if you like.'

‘No. I shall.'

Siel turned away as Tauk leaned forwards. There was the sound of chewing, then gagging.

‘Needs salt, eh?' said Blain. He chuckled.

‘I feel something,' Tauk whispered. He stood, exhaled deeply, laughed. ‘I feel it! I could pull these trees out with my hands.'

‘Good! Now you know why I come to these woods every few hours.'

‘And every time you return with dirt on your hands,' Tauk laughed. ‘Now I see why.'

‘I've had many lifetimes' worth of years in this rusting old
body. It's not going to culminate in being that little bastard's slave. When the little shit returns, we get him away from his dragon, Tauk. Then we have him. Some story. We'll concoct it together, you and I. Don't tell your men! They'll follow your lead when the battle starts. Don't tell the women either. Evelle, she's mind-controlled like he is. They'll be of the same purpose when the swords come out. Don't be fooled by the tits! She's deadly. Keep her drunk. No more beating your chest, Mayor. No shouting. Even drunk, even sleeping, she
listens.
When we get back there, we argue as before, or else she'll know we've a plan to act on.'

Tauk murmured something Siel didn't hear.

‘Every few hours,' Blain replied. ‘We come back here, eat some more. Understood? We need allies. I've bared myself to you. This dead Invia's my last good card to play until we get his amulet. I'd rather you wore it than me or any other among us. You are all I have left. Return my trust, Tauk!'

They covered the Invia with soil and leaves, not troubling too much to make the ground look undisturbed, then headed back to the village. When they were gone Siel dug up the corpse. She had no idea how long it had been buried, but the flesh indeed seemed well preserved, without even a smell to it. In death its scales were more pronounced, so much it hardly looked human at all. They'd taken their bites from its upper arms.

The flesh was hard to cut. When finally she got an arm separated at the elbow she did not bother burying the body again. She carved a rune in the ground which actually meant nothing at all, so far as she knew – it was only to confuse them if they returned here. She took the arm to a place where she could watch the others from the cover of trees.

*

She watched them as day broke, as they began to search for the missing one. She watched them find the body, drag it to camp, inspect it. Watched Tauk's and his other man's tears, watched them strip from the body the armour and weapons. She watched Tauk point an accusing finger at Evelle while Blain stood between them, trying to calm things. Tauk's other man accused Stranger. Rushing to her feet, Evelle agreed it
had
been Stranger! She'd seen her lurking over there where the body was found! She'd seen her earlier with a blade in her hand!

Stranger, backing up, palms raised, pleading. It did no good. Tauk's man screamed as he cut her down.

With no sadness Siel watched the death of the woman who'd sold herself, and sold out her kind to the dragons. She felt no pleasure in Stranger's death, perceived no justice or crime, felt no guilt or pity. The waters awaited Stranger, awaited them all.

Many times Blain and Tauk went back to the woods to eat from the Invia corpse, in case Kiown should return. They'd noticed the missing arm, for they came back from that first trip nervous indeed. Frequently they went off to chat in private. Siel went as close as she dared to listen in.

Blain whispered, ‘Nothing's hunting us. Maybe it
was
Stranger.'

‘There were none of her prints near where he died.'

‘With all that long grass? Of course not. It had to be Stranger. Someone greater than us would have battled us. Someone in fear of us wouldn't have bothered to kill him at all! A bandit would have robbed him, but no one took what was in his pockets. The sword's clearly priceless yet they left it with him. Yes, Evelle probably lied about seeing a knife, I agree with that. It doesn't mean there wasn't one! Stranger was insane – love-mad for a dragon who didn't love her back. You know how they get. He – Fithlim,
was his name? – gets drunk, forgets his honour, makes an offer, perhaps grabs at her. She grows angry. Hides it. Off into the grass she goes with him, eager for fun. Or so he thinks. Out comes the knife.'

Tauk digested all this. ‘That symbol gouged in the ground …' he began.

‘Never seen its like, I keep saying. No reason to think it's related to the death.'

‘Who made the rune, wizard?'

‘Could be a dragon cultist; they were never completely wiped out. Could be the new people. A mourning symbol! That may be it. They're sentimental beings, the new folk, not the type to murder. That's what happened: they come through, meaning to find the tower, not knowing Domudess had gone from here. They see us … but, fearing attack, pass us by. By some means they find the Invia's body, perhaps sensing the thing's trace of magic. They dig, find a body, grow sad, and make a mourning symbol.'

‘Why did they take its arm?'

‘I wasn't there!' cried Blain. ‘I don't know their ways.'

‘I begin to think
you
made the rune as a play against me.'

Blain emitted a growl of frustration. They both moved out of earshot.

Siel was enjoying herself. She went to her hiding spot, chewed a little of the Invia flesh. It was tough and had little taste to it, thankfully. But her whole body seemed to vibrate after she'd swallowed it, seemed to fill with strength and heat. She had to do something, anything, with this energy. She dashed down and carved more meaningless runes on a part of the path the men would surely see on their way back to the Invia's body when it grew light. One of the phoney runes looked like a human
arm, cut off at the elbow. Back in her hiding place she kept her laughter silent.

Since the group put out their campfire Siel had been lightly sleeping in her hiding spot among the trees. She had been dreaming of the lake, its crystal light, and the multitude of beings around her as she'd walked with Far Gaze towards its shores.

Something rustled the undergrowth in her hiding place, waking her up. Day was close. A glimmering green light bathed her hiding spot. Something whispered to her words in a tongue she hadn't heard before, and yet found she understood. An image came to her mind: a man with a sword – Valour. Riding across World's End, the ground seeming to rattle with the hoofbeats pounding down. Across the boundary, blade raised high, his steed veering to run over haiyens who could not flee quickly enough, a thousand men or more from the city of Tanton riding behind him. Through the haiyens' stone-shell homes his horse stomped, crushing them to shards. Onwards Valour rode, the war cry from his throat an eerie, dreamy trumpet call, echoed by the men behind who followed and mimicked him so uniformly they were surely in his thrall.