by T. C. Edge
“Is he really that petty? He has been told, hasn’t he? About what’s going on?”
“The basics only - that we need to talk with him. Rhoth doesn’t care much about ‘the big city with all the lights’,” he says, mimicking the big man’s manner of speaking and strange accent. It’s good enough to draw a chuckle from my throat as he goes on. “He just wants us to help secure his territory and deal with the Bear-Skins and Skullers. He’s a big guy, but he has small ideas.”
“Yeah, but he’ll be dragged into this too if Cromwell’s telling the truth.”
“He doesn’t see it like that. The tribal people, around here and much further, do a lot of fighting. But they’ve got one shared enemy above all others…”
“Us? Haven?”
He nods.
“Exactly. So don’t put too much trust in Rhoth, sis. He’s got a quirky charm to him, I know, but he can be dangerous and unpredictable too. We can rely on ourselves, and ourselves alone.”
“What are you trying to say? That Rhoth would join forces with whoever comes here? He wouldn’t do that…would he?”
“He might. Rhoth knows us, and he knows some of our secrets and weaknesses too. At the end of the day, he’ll side with whoever he thinks will give him what he wants. We need to make sure that we convince him that’s us. That’s why he’s doing all of this today. He’s testing us, and exerting some of his power. He plays the big, simple hunter, but he’s got a sharp mind for getting what he desires.”
“Right, gotcha. Don’t trust the Fangs,” I say, tapping my temple. “So, what’s the plan now?”
I arch my eyes from one path to the next, before settling on the one with, apparently, Rhoth’s footprints.
“We’ll follow this one,” says Zander. “But I reckon they’ll all converge up ahead anyway. Like I say, this is just mind games.”
We press on through the dense woods, hurrying a little faster now as the day eats up the final morning minutes and reaches out to grab midday. Clearly, Rhoth had no intention whatsoever of returning by then, luring us out into his territory where he has a little more power to bargain.
It makes me wonder what he might know. In order to negotiate, you have to hold some cards. Zander just mentioned his knowledge of us and basic knowledge of the city. That’s one. Should he choose to team up with another, foreign force, that’s a good place to start in getting help wiping out the Bear-Skins.
It’s also a good deterrent for us, and a good motivator to keep us sweet. But beyond that – and, I have to admit, I still consider Rhoth and the other local tribes as a minor threat, given the sorts of soldiers we have at our disposal – he surely has something more to offer. Since we’re coming to see him in search of information, I can only assume he’s got some knowledge of the wider world that’s going to prove fruitful.
If that turns out to be true, I’m not entirely sure what I want to hear. Would I rather he completely debunk this idea that some force is gathering to march on the city? Would I rather the prospect of teaming up with Cromwell is tossed aside, and we can return to the very appealing prospect of destroying the man once and for all?
I muse on the point, and by doing so probably lose some focus. Out here, that’s not a good thing.
A sharp crack of wood, and flutter of leaves pulls me back to the here and now, and I swing around. I do so with such force that I almost twist my ankle, catching my foot on a root and tumbling to the ground. Zander’s quick enough to rush in and break my fall, hauling me quickly to my feet and planting me back down with a strength that defies his age and size.
“What is it? What did you see?”
“Oh…nothing, just a bird I think. It just caught me off-guard.”
Always wary, he doesn’t take my word for it. For a few minutes, we sink towards the trunk of a large tree and lift our pulse rifles ahead, using the thick bark to defend our backs. Nothing happens for those few minutes, and soon enough my conclusion that it was merely a flapping bird is accepted.
We move on, tracing the invisible track, veering a little further northwards until the earth begins to climb just a little. The rattle of water begins to sound, a stream trickling down from the mountain passes above, and we emerge into a little clearing where the brook cuts right through.
The sun beats down, and the air seems to clear a little around the water’s edge. Zander checks the bank and once more calls me over to take a look at a series of footprints that I’m still struggling to see.
“He was definitely here,” says Zander. “Definitely…”
At that exact moment, as if awaiting this particular point in time, a spear comes surging from the high branches of a nearby tree. It comes with a pace and precision that even the two of us, with our super-powered vision, are unable to react to time.
As it is, we don’t need to. The tip of the spear cuts into the earth a metre or so ahead of us, before several more pepper the ground on all sides, encircling us in some hastily erected wooden cell.
After the first couple of spears come, the surprise in Zander’s face fades and he stands up tall and merely awaits the final javelins as they stick in the dirt. I don’t share his calm. My eyes dart up as the lances appear from the surrounding trees, and I lift my pulse rifle instinctively with the aim of lighting the place up.
My brother’s hand comes down on the top of my weapon and pushes it away. He shakes his head and calls out into the air.
“All right, Rhoth…you got us. You can come down now.”
From the trees, figures emerge, leaping and swinging from high branches with incredibly dexterity and speed. I recognise the faces and outfits immediately, and if nothing else gave them away, the clinking of teeth and claw necklaces would have done just that.
As the Fangs appear, their leader drops with a lightness of foot from a high perch that you’d never expect from a man of such size. He hits the earth, bends at the knee, and lifts to his full height in a single, powerful motion. With mighty strides he comes forward, grips his spear – identified from the rest via its slightly longer length and thicker girth – and pulls it from the earth with a big, yellow smile.
“Ah, the twins,” he roars. “You got lured right into our trap. Good thing it wasn’t Bjorn, my boy. He’d have you on a spit in no time at all.”
“We knew it wasn’t Bjorn. I’d know your prints anywhere.”
“Ah, how sweet of you to say. I feel all bubbly and warm inside.”
A gurgle of cluttered laughter coughs up his throat. Then a short silence falls; some brief standoff between the two very different men.
“So, I see you decided not to stay at the church,” says my brother eventually. “Apparently you told Alfred you’d be back by midday. Brie, what’s the time?”
I check my watch.
“Um, it’s nearly 1 PM.”
“Timekeeping not your strongest suit, it is Rhoth.”
“I keep time by the sun and the stars and the feel of the air, boy,” counters the hunter. “And I will return to my woods as and when I wish to. Your Lady of the Nameless will not set orders into my mind.”
A rumble of assent lifts from the surrounding group. They close in a little with a hint of threat. I haven’t felt this intimidated by them since we met. And probably not even then.
“I agree with you,” says Zander, lightening his tone. “You can go where you want…”
“I know I can,” growls Rhoth. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
Another silence. The larger man glares, the smaller dips his eyes. It’s clearly what Rhoth wants, some show of submission. He rolls back his shoulders and heaves his chest out. Then he turns to me, and his sharp-toothed smile reappears.
“Lovely Brie,” he says. “Sorry to drag you all the way up here. The wilds call to us at strange times. We have no control over that. But come, take a drink from the spring. The water is good this high, sweet as a songbird’s tune.”
He opens up his large arm, draped in furs and macabre jewellery, and his men ste
p forward and retrieve their spears. I walk through the space towards the stream, cup my hands, and take a sip. He’s right. It’s invigorating.
As I fill my palms once more and take a further gulp, I hear him speak again above me.
“Now, I hear you’ve come to talk. So…let’s talk.”
218
Rhoth leads us away from the brook towards the far end of the clearing, where the canopy above gives some shade from the steadily warming sun.
He gestures for us to take a seat, and I eye the stream with a note of desire. Damn that water was refreshing.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” says the hunter, noticing my avaricious gaze. “Didn’t I say? Zander, have a gulp, go ahead…”
My brother shakes his head.
“I’ve tasted it plenty of times before. Now come on Rhoth, stop delaying. You’ve dragged us up here so the least you can do is tell us what you know.”
The tribesman sets his eyes around the group with a dramatic frown.
“Know? What I know? I…don’t know anything.”
The men all laugh, revealing their sharpened teeth as their necklaces jingle against their hirsute chests. Rhoth’s eyes gleam, enjoying the attention, before returning to Zander. My brother’s don’t gleam, but roll. He’s getting restless already.
“Rhoth,” he says, nice and calm, “you just said you wanted to talk. You know what this is about.”
“I know some things, yes,” he says, the laughter around us fading. “I know that you wish to hear of the happenings beyond this place. But, what makes you think I know about any of that?”
“Well, that’s just what we’re here to find out. You’ve had dealings with all sorts of people from all over this country, and probably further afield by my reckoning. We’re merely here to confirm something we’ve been told…”
“And that is?” cuts in the great Fang.
Zander fills his lungs with a breath of clear air.
“Apparently,” he begins, speaking slowly, “there are many people beyond these lands who covet this city. Whether to take it for the purposes of living, or merely sacking and pillaging, we don’t know. But, with our war on-going, and the High Tower falling, it seems they’ve sensed an opportunity and have decided to band together. We are simply looking for evidence of this. We hoped you might have some.”
Rhoth’s dirty and sharpened fingernails lift to his long brown beard as Zander speaks. His digits begin twirling the rough hairs pensively, something he continues to do for a few long moments after my brother’s voice is consumed once more by the trickling of water flowing from the passes above.
After those long moments, his bushy eyebrows fall into another questioning frown.
“Who gave you this information?” he asks.
“Director Cromwell,” says Zander, with a hint of reluctance. He clearly knows what’s coming, and duly Rhoth throws his shaven head back and laughs to the heavens.
“Cromwell! This man you’ve been trying to kill?! You’ve been speaking with him, have you? What an interesting people you are.”
“No different to you and Bjorn,” I suggest. “You’re enemies, and yet there’s a truce between you. Or…there was,” I add, remembering the last interaction between the two men.
His laughter once more tumbles away down the hill and into the woods, and he sets his face back into order. I seem to have that effect on him.
“The girl speaks some sense,” he says. “But, the great tower has just fallen. You have just destroyed it. How can you speak on good terms so quickly after such an act?”
“Through necessity,” says Zander. “He’s killed thousands of innocent people. Now we have too. He called for a meeting and we attended. That was only yesterday. He told us that he’s been monitoring threats far from here for a long time, and that we’ve weakened each other to the point of being vulnerable. If we continue to destroy each other, whoever’s left will be unable to withstand whatever comes next.”
“Ah, yes. You kill them, they kill you. Now, there are few of you left, and you are weak. The city has lost its beacon, and the lights have gone out…”
“That’s what he said,” I find myself cutting in. “Cromwell, he said almost the exact same thing.”
A ripple of distrust fuses through me. The grip on my pulse rifle grows tighter, and I scan my surroundings with a more wary eye. Rhoth merely smiles as he watches me.
“So, you think I’m in league with this man, because we share a few words? Don’t be so nervous, girl, words are common.”
I look at Zander, who doesn’t seem so concerned. He gives a little reassuring nod and I start to relax.
“Well, perhaps your enemy is right,” continues Rhoth. “I told you before, Brie, that people come to your city and are shot at the door. Many know of this place, and from far and wide they travel here.”
“So you’re saying it’s true?” asks Zander. “There are soldiers, warriors, hunters coming here?”
Rhoth’s thick neck inches right and left.
“I cannot speak for certain, boy. I hear things on the wind, but I have heard no tales of a grand gathering heading this way. This war of yours has only been going for a short time. It will take a little while for anyone to realise that they have a chance to attack.”
“Maybe, or maybe not. What if they’ve been planning something for a while? What if they knew war was coming?”
“And how would they know?” Rhoth asks.
“Well, you say people come here to the gates of the city and are shot. We heard the same thing from the horse’s mouth…”
Rhoth’s eyes twitch in a manner to suggest he doesn’t understand the phrase.
“He’s saying we heard it directly from Cromwell,” I tell him, leaning in.
“I see…”
“Yeah, from Cromwell,” continues Zander. “He confirmed what you said. People come, and are turned away. That’s a nice way of saying he kills them. But, he often takes them in for interrogation first, finds out what they know and where they come from. It’s helped him build a picture of what else is out there, but there’s no reason why the reverse can’t also happen.”
“The reverse?”
“As in, while some are caught at the gates, others might just come here and scout the place, keep a watch. We know there are other Enhanced out there, and they’ve probably been keeping a close watch on things over the years. And if that’s the case, they might just mobilise quickly if they sniff a chance to strike.”
Rhoth’s fingers continue to work patterns in his stringy beard. A gradual smile begins to accumulate on his craggy lips.
“A compelling case, but nothing I don’t know. These are my woods, boy, not yours. I know of the happenings here.”
“Then you can confirm or deny what I’m saying. Have you heard of scouts in the area? People coming and keeping an eye on the city?”
“I wouldn’t call them scouts. But yes, people are sometimes seen, creeping through the shadows. It could be as you say.”
Zander claps his hands together.
“Right, as I thought.” He turns to me. “The evidence is gathering, sis.”
He’s right, it is. That’s undeniable, even for someone like me who’d so love to deny it.
“Right, Rhoth, what else do you know?”
The big man stiffens at the tone of my brother’s question. I sense he’s not getting the respect he requires to continue, and so makes a point of reacquiring it.
Zander seems to notice, and quickly reframes his words.
“I mean, do you have anything else you can tell us?” he asks. “It would be of such help.”
His retrofitted wording has the desired impact. The hunter’s posture loosens up a fraction, and his eyes swing towards the northern edge of the clearing, where the earth continues to rise at the base of the mountain.
“I have lied to you,” he says coolly. The reaction in the pit of my stomach is far from cool, but boiling hot. His eyes swing over, darkened and hawkish beneath an
gled brows. I once again find my fingers gripping tight at my weapon. Then, his façade melts again, switching from frightening to jovial with the calm composure of an accomplished performer. “I lied when I said I came here to hunt.” He looks around to his men. “Do you see us holding any kills?”
I turn my eyes to the gathering. Zander doesn’t even bother. We both shake our heads.
“You can be well assured that, had we been hunting since early this morning, we’d have accumulated enough meat to feed our whole tribe for a week. No, we are here for another purpose.”
“And that is?” asks my brother suspiciously.
“To take you a little higher,” he says. “I was well aware of why you were coming to see me today. I knew what information you were seeking. And, if you want the best information around here, then it isn’t the Fangs who can provide it.”
He saunters away to the far end of the clearing, stepping from the patch of rocks and crossing the stream with a large stride. My brother and I share a look before rustling after him. His men fall in, spreading into their positions.
Rhoth stops at the treeline again, and lifts a great paw to the climbing earth.
“Up there,” he says, “the Roosters dwell. If you wish to see far, then you go high. And they live high.”
He steps under the canopy and out of the blazing sun, and we follow right after.
219
“So, you just lured us up here to get a head-start?” questions Zander as we move through the forest. “You do like your games, don’t you Rhoth…”
A whimsical smile that has no place on such a face as his appears.
“I was testing you, boy. Seeing if you could follow my tracks. I had expected you to spot us among the trees. Clearly, you aren’t quite as skilled out here as you think you are.”
