by S. J. Higbee
“…and the death shall be raised imperishable…” called Seth, raising his shock stick.
What happened after that was something of a blur, because my own consciousness lifted away, becoming braided alongside Felina and Vrox, who were both finding it hard to keep still. Whereas me… I’d spent years having Vrox lodged in the back of my brain and often days would go by when he didn’t say or do much, but I still knew he was there.
So I held steady, radiating calm while this unknown mantivore lord… male… I knew he was at least one of those – constructed a major Sending of a huge conflagration engulfing the pack and hurled it at the attacking nemmets.
While it didn’t daunt those right at the front, now busy trying to chew lumps out of the soldiers facing them, it stopped those massed behind them in their tracks. Immediately, they started that warbling distress call of theirs, while snapping at their surrounding podmates in their efforts to escape.
“Protect the mantivore and Felina!” bawled Seth, as he lunged across me, firing his shock stick. “They’re mind-zapping and it’s working!”
Flames leap across armoured bodies… screeches of pain… of desperation… nemmets turn on one another… wash of heat… stinging sweat drips into my eyes… keep focus… calm… sweat now trickling down my leg… burning my knee – ow!
I fell out of the MindMeld to find a roaching nemmet latched onto my kneecap, glaring up at me with those eerie red eyes. Fortunately, I had on my desert-weight tunic and trousers, designed to offer protection against dagger grass, the reinforced threads also managed to slow those needling teeth as they bored through the thick material. But now they’d reached my skin.
Ow! I plunged the shock stick into one of those red eyes and pressed the trigger. The creature stiffened, convulsed and dropped away in the press. However, we were now wading through these creatures, so I kept aiming for those glowing eyes and shocking them. It was far easier than shooting at them, as the soldiers around us were finding.
I shocked a nemmet busy biting a hole in Helston’s thigh, and the one hanging off the young soldier’s arm behind me… Time slowed. I aimed for those immediately attacking the troops to my left. Seth covered those soldiers to his right, while they unleashed short bursts of fire to discourage the now-scattered remnants of the pod from massing together to charge, again.
I kept aiming for those red, beady eyes. Bracing as the creatures stiffened, juddered, then looking for the next one before they’d even dropped to the ground. On and on. How long we were battling, to this day, I couldn’t tell you. It was a lifetime and only a handful of heartbeats all at the same time.
The copper smell of human blood… the stench of rotting meat, so thick I could taste it… the feel of Seth’s wiry strength and muttered prayers, as he, too, jabbed and shocked around and behind me… the incessant cries and screams of nemmets… Vrox’s bugling howls… the growing heaviness of the shock stick as exhaustion hit… the prickling knowledge that one misstep would probably kill me… It was both terrible and one of the most exciting times in my whole life. I certainly still dream about it.
Eventually, there came the time when I raised the stick poised to snuff out another nemmet to find they were all lying in heaps around me, deader than last night’s supper. Swaying with exhaustion, I flung down the roaching shock stick and launched myself at Seth, beyond words, but desperate to feel his arms around me. Desperate to feel anything, but the jerking death-dance of a nemmet.
I knew Felina and Vrox were both breathing and upright. Vrox’s battle-rage was still pulsing through the pair of them, to the extent that once he broke through the wall of broken bodies heaped around him, the mantivore continued flinging them around, looking for the wounded to tear to pieces. As his bloodlust showed no sign of easing down, I opted to postpone our reunion.
Helston, looking unduly pale, sank to his knees. Untreated nemmet bites are nasty. They contain an anti-coagulant, so if they aren’t treated and cleaned, they’ll continue bleeding, further weakening the bite victim. While giving any passing nemmet a big old clue as to where their next dinner is. Bites are also liable to become infected, and most of our force had been bitten.
A couple of healers accompanied our troops, and each soldier carried a wound-dressing kit. A long line snaked around the waggons as bite victims waited to be treated. While I wasn’t qualified to deal with major injuries, in another lifetime I’d regularly dealt with Osmar’s pressure sores, so cleaning minor bite wounds posed no problems for me. I was able to throw off my fatigue by getting Vrox to lend me some stamina while I helped the over-stretched healers.
I’m proud to say that between us, we managed to save every single fighter who survived the onslaught. Though during the battle, we lost five soldiers who were overwhelmed, as well as the poor soul who’d died running for the waggons.
When I finally slumped on a rock alongside Seth, a hesitant voice in my head asked, Queen Kyrillia, may I approach?
Please do! I’d like to thank you. If you hadn’t helped us when you did, I reckon we’d be another collection of bones littering up the ground by now.
“I’m unsure that’d be so,” said a boy, appearing from the huddle of weary men. Dressed in a long, hooded cloak that flickered with bioluminescence like the best-quality variweave, until I noticed the rough material was covered in beads flaring just like Vrox’s scales. As he pulled his hood down, I noticed his skin and hair was plastered with soil-coloured paste, which didn’t hide his youth. Because he looked far too young to have so deftly handled the MindMeld, and those amazing fire illusions.
I stared at his silver-flecked eyes. Is he MindLinked with a mantivore? Because if he was, the chances are that he also had excellent night vision, above average hearing and a keen sense of smell. Though right now, mine is utterly slagged by the stink of nemmets and I’m not convinced I’ll ever get the vile rotting-meat taste out of my mouth…
The boy bowed, abruptly formal. “Thank you for permitting me an audience, Queen Kyrillia, Overlord Brarian of Gloriosa an’ Arcadia. I am Jessob Jolanzo-Swellowchosenbrood, formerly of the Much-Tribute Horde.” Once more he bowed. “I ask leave to run with your horde.”
RAINDROP?
Jessob pitched forward on his face.
Felina, will you stop hollering? You’ve hoed flat the youngster who saved all our lives and I’m rotted off with being brain-deafened! “Jessob? Are you shady? I’m so very sorry… She didn’t mean…” I yabbered, while Seth helped him to his feet.
Felina came barrelling across out of the gloom, her short blocky figure looking even rounder while wearing the thick protective clothing suitable for The Arids, rather than her habitual tunic, long, strained skirt and Keeper’s apron. “My repentances, Kyrillia. Still not used to this mind nattering business, to be honest.” She turned to the blinking youth, still unsteady on his feet. “Just wanted say a mighty thank-you. We’d all be nemmet-fodder if it wasn’t for you. Vrox is mighty impressed.”
I wasn’t so sure, having the strong impression that Vrox was more daunted than anything else, which wasn’t good news for Jessob.
Given he still was swaying like a river reed, I answered for him, “Meet Jessob, formerly of the Much-Tribute Horde who’s just offered his services. Though he might now decide to change his mind, on account of not wanting his brain scrambled every time you mind speak as if we’re still in Gloriosa!”
“Truly, you have a mighty voice.” Jessob winced as he inclined his head.
I rootled in my pocket. “I’ve a painpatch here, somewhere.” I glared at Felina. “I tend to carry them around with me on account of regularly having my thoughts mushed.”
Vrox approached, his neck crest down, eyes slitted and mind sealed tighter than a security shutter. This youngling smells of mantivore and loss. He’s likely been ejected from his horde for being too weak.
Jessob marched up to Vrox, so close he was almost standing on his claws, glaring up at him. “I am no weakling. My Queen instructed me to leave our H
orde and seek knowledge of other hordes, other queens and return once I have learnt enough. I have her TributeStrike as proof. And if you say otherwise, I will fight you.” With that, he lifted his shirt, baring his back, where the livid mark of a thick, forked tongue was etched on his scarred skin. It shimmered and sparkled with bioluminescence…
Vrox reared up at the sight of the mark on Jessob’s back and I sensed his distress.
What’s the matter? Is this Jessob a threat to us?
Captain Helston approached. “Your Ladyship, I’m sending a detail to collect the remains of the force that had been encamped here and then we’ll—”
“Nah. You can’t reside here a heartbeat longer than you need to. There’s too many bodies,” announced Jessob, apparently indifferent to Helston’s glare, as he continued, “We’ll be wading through veinworms and yet more nemmets in the time it takes for them to smell dinner.”
“And you’re responsible for Her Ladyship’s safety,” said Seth. “If we wait much longer, no one will be safe.”
“Of course, Your Lordship,” said Helston, expressionlessly. “Load up, people! We’re headed back to Cnicus.”
On the way back to our waggon, through soldiers murmuring their thanks, I was also startled to see several men saluting Vrox, who stomped through the milling crowd, pulsing friendship colours, not that they realised it.
Once we were sitting on the hard benches – I’d insisted on scrambling into the waggon myself, with Seth giving me a hand to step over the safety rail as my knee had stiffened up – Jessob looked around as the waggons roared into life and began the jolting journey back to Cnicus. “Are these men all part of your horde?”
“I s’pose you could say that.”
He gnawed his lip, still gazing around and clearly unhappy. “Something doesn’t smell right.”
Felina snorted. “It plain stinks! Don’t reckon I’ll ever get the stench of nemmet outta my nose again.” She leaned forward, “This Much-Tribute Horde – how does it work?”
“Where I live… it’s a long way from anywhere else,” said Jessob, clearly picking his words with care. “Our village… it has a deal with the nearby horde – we exchange cubs… nippers… Some villagers raise a cub an’ some of the vores… they raise us. Children.”
“Why?” asked Seth.
The boy shrugged. “It works, mostly. The old queen before twice over – she started it. Left a cub by the South Gate, along with a dead nemmet. Family had died, leaving a nipper no one really wanted, so the vores took her in. An’ treated her just fine till she was grown, returning to her village an’ showing the Elders there what she’d learnt. So the village took to keeping them hidden them from your Murder Squads. Life is hard. An’ vores – they’re mightily clever finding ways to stay alive. Like fire Sendings for nemmets.”
Felina was staring at him as if he’d sprouted horns and a tail. “So it’s true,” she breathed. “Lemme guess, your village is called Haven, isn’t it?”
Jessob sighed, suddenly looking as if he’d all the cares of the planet resting on his cloaked shoulders. “That is how it has come to be known, aye. An’ now more people know ʼbout us, the queen reckons it’s past time we knew more of what’s going on in the rest of the world. An’ to tell the new Queen of the human horde of our plight.”
“That’s a mighty quest for a youngling,” said Felina, blunt as always. “Why you?”
His silver-flecked gaze met hers coolly. “Why not? I got no wife nor nippers to weigh me down. I can fight if I must. I MindSpeak well enough. An’ I wanted to leave.”
“What jer think of what you’ve seen?” asked Felina, darting a look at me.
“It’s a drab-scaled mess.”
I winced, while Felina laughed. “Can’t argue with that. ‘Drab-scaled mess’ Hah!” She leaned forward, her own silver-speckled eyes gleaming. This was meat and drink to her. “So why not move on? Find another forgotten corner – there’s more than a few along that stretch of coastline – and disappear again.”
Jessob shifted. “Things are changing. Too few vores elsewhere. Far too few. Jer know in most parts they’re extinct? That’s why the nemmets are outta control. Way back there was a big horde roaming outta those caves. Keeping nemmet numbers down – they’d never have dared mass-attack like they did tonight. An’ they’re killing off jaspers, too. So the likes of veinworms, voreleeches, hookticks an’ blood shrews are increasing. Soon it’ll be too dangerous for humans to live anywhere near The Arids.”
I sucked in a breath, appalled. That will make swathes of Acinos Province uninhabitable, including Cnicus…
Seth shook his head and muttered.
Jessob swung round to him. “What – you don’t believe me?”
“Oh yeah, I believe you, alright. Just didn’t realise it had got as bad as that,” said Seth heavily.
Jessob turned to me. “I now lay this problem at your feet, my Queen. How will you fix it? What may I do to help you?”
Good question – how will I fix it? I looked around at Seth, Felina and Jessob, also aware that Vrox was also paying attention to the conversation, all looking back at me, all expecting some clever answer. “Don’t know. Yet. But leastways now I know there’s a problem, I can give it some thought.”
“Sounds like you better come up with answers to this one sooner, rather than later, Raindrop,” said Felina. “And this time around, your roaching Node can’t be part of the solution.”
While I slumped back, suddenly exhausted, my knee dully aching and feeling like I’d, indeed, been chewed by a roaching nemmet. And wondering how I could become the kind of Overlord that people were more mindful of how they said what they had to say, but without turning into Uncle Trislen...
*
Seth shook me awake. “We’re approaching Cnicus. So we need to get down and return to Felina’s without being spotted.”
Blearily, I turned to Jessob, but before I opened my mouth, Felina said, “Don’t worry about the youngster, Raindrop. We had a chat while you were out of it and he’s going to make his way to Ajene’s. She’ll look after him.” She then leaned over the safety rail and in a loud whisper they could probably hear in Reseda, she said, “Oi! Nemmet-killer, you up for sneaking back into the Security Suite and making like we never left?”
Vrox’s answering snarl wasn’t brimful of pleasure at the prospect.
“I now see why she is quite so loud in my head. She would make a wonderful vore-talker,” murmured Jessob, standing up in the waggon. He turned to bow. It’s been an honour to meet you an’ run with your horde. Keep your neck crest up and your senses sharp – I smell treachery close by, though not exactly who. Always yours, until I’m not.
And you, Jessob. Stay shady. I Sent, wishing I had his way of saying things. And wondering what he meant about the treachery.
He jumped off the side, landing gracefully and although I watched him, still without my goggles, one minute he was eeling through the crowd of soldiers, nodding in acknowledgement of their murmured greetings, the next he was gone. I looked for rustling leaves… a tell-tale movement in the darkest shadows… nothing. As if he’d never been.
This time around, I wasn’t about to grumble about being lifted off the waggon, as muscles ached in places I didn’t know I had, my nemmet wounds throbbed and I was cold and stiff.
I hobbled along the path alongside Seth, flanked by the inevitable escort.
“Captain Helston,” I whispered.
“Your Ladyship.”
“Please, when you get back to your quarters get those bites properly seen to. I’m worried about the one on your arm – you lost a lot of blood last night. If necessary, get someone else to head up the detail, later today.”
“Thank you, Your Ladyship,” he said, expressionlessly.
We tottered through the door, where Jerick welcomed us back like long-lost heroes, tutting over the state of our clothes, which to be honest, were a disgrace. Not only were they covered in rips and holes, they were splashed with… stuff,
most of which belonged inside a nemmet. It probably didn’t smell all that good, then. But once it got outside a nemmet, the smell had a chance to develop new depths of dreadfulness. I was impressed that despite watering eyes and a bit of involuntary retching, he still managed to look pleased to see us.
We both hurried off to change out of our stinking clothes. While using up every scrap of my water allowance on the longest shower I’d ever had, I reflected that I was glad Helston had made me change out of my variweave garment. Given what it cost, I’d have hated it to go for burning.
I could still smell nemmet on my skin once I was changed into my sleep robe, probably because the stink was lodged on the inside of my nostrils and though I considered washing them out with hot soapy water, it seemed a waste to drown myself just after surviving a nemmet massed-attack.
Seth and I grinned sleepily at one another and crawled painfully onto the bed. I don’t recall pulling the sheet over me or my head hitting the pillow.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Seth was in the shower, when I finally surfaced to see that daybreak had been and gone. Pulling on my goggles, I winced when flexing my knee, which was puffy and sore. I was easing the plaster off the nemmet bite when Seth walked back into the room. “That’s messy. Better get it sorted,” he said.
“Reckon I’ll send for Beneth Healer, she’s good with wound infections.”
“That she is. But you’ll never hear the end of it if you do.” He jerked his head in the direction of Healer Prime Ellern’s room.
“First, I’m having a shower.” The nemmet stink still hadn’t abated, and the thought of enduring it a nanosec longer than necessary was unbearable.
“Why not get the leg seen first? Wetting it in that state isn’t the way to go.” He looked concerned, but the irritable, controlling version I’d dealt with in Gloriosa was gone.
“Alright,” I said, dismayed at how much I didn’t want to be treated by Ellern anymore.
Seth went to get her, while I climbed back on the bed to save her the bother of ordering me there.
