The King's Watch (The Adventures of Carmen Delarosa Book 2)

by Kody Boye

  “You step into the stirrups and hold your reigns steady,” Stella laughed. “Careful not to kick on the way up. Don’t want the dumb beast to take off without us.”

  No, Carmen thought, sliding one foot into the stirrup. I don’t.

  Climbing atop him was easy enough. Staying on, however, while trying to find her center of gravity, was a feat she found nearly impossible to do.

  “Does this get easier?” she asked as she readjusted her foot, then grimaced as the boar turned with the pull of her hand.

  “Riding?” Anna asked, climbing atop her own beast of burden. She braced her rifle across her lap and nodded. “It does. It just takes a bit of getting used to.”

  “You’ll be thankful for the boars once we get into the roads,” Ignatius said, nodding as he watched the last of the feed be attached to his mount. “The road gets tougher the further we go out. The boars’ll save our feet in the long run.”

  “All right,” Carmen said, looking around as Colby, Stella and then Adrian climbed aboard their mounts. “I guess this is it then. Right?”

  “Right,” Stella said. “Ignatius—are we ready to head out?”

  “We are,” the man said, tapping his boar’s sides with his feet before starting the creature forward. “Thank you for your help, sir knight, and for allowing your squires to help us prepare.”

  “It was my pleasure,” the man said as Carmen passed, holding on for dear life. “Be careful out there in the roads. And Miss Delarosa.”

  “Yes?” Carmen asked, once again turning both herself and the pig to face the man.

  “Good luck on your first trip out.”

  Judging by the way she handled a boar, she’d need it.

  - - -

  Their path was lit by the light from the overhead sun. Dappled, here, in hues of orange and red, it guided them along the cobblestone path that extended for as far as the eye could see and then the many passages beyond. These, Ignatius said, were mostly used for maintenance by miners and other such employees of the kingdom, but the one they turned off on no more than a few moments after leaving the capital would lead to the farmlands that lay a little less than a day’s travel away.

  “These farmlands are one of the few places food is grown out in the open,” Ignatius said, adjusting his halberd across his lap as they continued onward. “Most of the food you’ve been privy to your whole life was likely grown indoors beneath sunstones, Carmen.”

  “I imagine it’s easier to tend the soil when the weather will do it for you,” Carmen mused, inhaling a breath of the clean morning air.

  “It comes with its own set of challenges,” Colby said. “The machines they use do most of the work, but there’s still a need for manual labor at times.”

  “What kind of machines are used in farming?” Carmen frowned. “The only ones I’ve ever seen have been used for war.”

  “Whirligigs to distribute fertilizer,” the machinist replied, “rototillers to soften the soil. Some farmers would like to keep automatons to keep the rats away, but that’d require too much work.”

  “That’s why you’ll hear gunfire occasionally,” Anna said, then nodded as a bark of sound went off in the far distance. “There you go.”

  “It sounds extremely complicated,” Carmen said, “and more hassle than what it’s worth.”

  “You ever wonder why bread is so expensive in places other than the city?” Stella asked. “It’s because they either have to grow it inside, which means less amounts and shorter bushels, or they have to distribute it from the city.”

  “Which costs money,” Anna said.

  “Which means inflation,” Adrian added.

  “I see,” Carmen said, then nodded as she thought back to her childhood diet, which mostly consisted of roots and other hanging vegetables. “I think I understand now.”

  “It’ll make much more sense when you actually see the farmlands and gardens,” Stella said. “It’s actually pretty amazing, especially when you haven’t seen anything like it before.”

  “I can’t wait,” Carmen said, though in the back of her mind knew that she could.

  This mission didn’t just entail checking in on the farmers and their lands.

  It meant dealing with one of the most nefarious insects known to Dwarvenkind.

  - - -

  She smelled it before she actually saw it. The leaves; so sickly sweet; the bark, smelling of earth and dirt; then the fruits. They were what touched her the most, as with the brief wind that came from the crater came the scents of apples and oranges, of cranberries and strawberries and almost every other fruit imaginable. It was, in a word, delectable, and as they neared, Carmen’s stomach rumbled with the thought of sinking her teeth into such juicy morsels.

  Not now, she thought, swallowing, her mouth watering as the smells continued to assault her senses.

  Still—she couldn’t help it, and as they continued to draw closer, she began to think of her childhood and their trip to the capital. It’d been ten, maybe even fifteen years or more since she’d sunk her teeth into apple pie, into an orange so sweet it’d lit her tongue ablaze. They were such a rare treat within the Dwarven kingdom, yet here they were, almost within arm’s reach.

  And her stomach was growling—so loud that, at her side, Stella began to laugh. “My,” she said. “It seems like someone’s hungry.”

  “It’s been so long since I’ve had any fruit,” Carmen replied. “The last time had to have been when I was a child.”

  “You haven’t been this far north in a while then,” Colby said. “They’re trying to pioneer faster systems of transportation, but nothing beats fruit when it’s fresh.”

  “I can only imagine,” Carmen sighed.

  “Keep your wits about you,” Ignatius said. “We’re in enemy territory.”

  Carmen had almost forgotten about the task at hand through the haze of delicious smells, but after hearing Ignatius’ voice, she instantly sobered and straightened in her seat. The pigs were beginning to grunt amongst themselves, as if smelling the very things she was, and Carmen imagined that they too were likely getting hungry. She hopped they’d stop to camp for the night. Maybe she could even barter with the farmers for some fruits and vegetables for their dinner.

  Ignatius, at the front of their party, raised his hand to stop them.

  Carmen, having pulled back on her reigns too hard, grimaced as the pig squealed in protest.

  “Shut that thing up!” Ignatius barked.

  “I’m trying,” Carmen said, loosening her grip on the reigns and allowing them to fall slack within her hands. “Shh, buddy,” she said, stroking the creature’s mane of fur along the back of its neck. “It’s ok. Everything’s going to be all right. Everything’s—”

  With the next wind came the smell of death.

  She retched once, then twice, nearly vomiting as the smell entered her nose and snuffed every ounce of joy from the matter. It was obvious what it was from the smell alone—from the acrid odor, to the tang of pus, to the coppery scent of blood. It was even worse as it appeared on the horizon, with its skull caved in and the back of its head now adorned with a fixture that at first looked like a crown but soon was revealed to be six long and spindly white legs. Anna raised her blunderbuss and fired without hesitation, ending the creature’s life without cause or reason, then lowered her weapon and waited for the smoke to clear before saying, “Are there any more?”

  “I’m not sure,” her brother, Adrian, replied, lifting his hand to the strands of hair that had come free of their braids from his eyes. “I—”

  A second creature appeared, followed by a third, each bringing with them the odor of death. In the distance, someone shouted and fired a weapon, but their aim wasn’t as true. The bullet struck the corpse’s abdomen and sent blood and stomach bile spewing from its guts, but did little to deter it as it continued onward.

  “Tell them to stop shooting,” Anna said as she raised her weapon once more.

  “Hold your fire!” Ignatius
cried toward the farmgrounds.

  The second creature went down, then the third.

  As Carmen edged her pig forward to view what remained of the creatures, she grimaced as one of its legs twitched, then as it withdrew itself slowly to reveal what looked like a bulbous head of cabbage, swollen with blood and weeping like a baby whose parents had just been killed in front of it.

  “That,” she said, “is absolutely fucking gross.”

  The creature—still weeping blood form its porous grey skin—extended its legs and lifted bone-white eyes to view her. That was when Carmen drew her mace, leaned down, and crushed it with a meaty thwap. She groaned as the gore dripped upon her mace.

  “Something’s wrong here,” Ignatius said, drawing up alongside Carmen.

  “You’re damn right something’s wrong!” a new voice replied, appearing from the distance with a blunderbuss, followed shortly by two other younger man who were armed the same. “These things keep coming out of the rocks and we keep having to shoot them down.”

  “Do you know what direction they’ve been coming from?” Carmen asked.

  “From the Old Grounds,” the farmer replied. “In the north.”

  Carmen directed her gaze toward the depthless distance and frowned.

  Though nothing could be seen from here, especially beyond the perimeter of light from beneath the crater, she could already imagine the massive grave site that most of the Dwarves in the far north either interred their dead within or sent their cremated ashes to.

  Something is very, very wrong, Carmen thought.

  Was someone, or something, disturbing the graves, thereby exposing them to such sickly creatures? It wouldn’t be unlikely, given that some Dwarves were buried with personal belongings, but what use would a grave robber have in exposing the corpses after they were done with their work, especially if they were pursued by the newly-reanimated dead?

  Stepping down from her mount, Carmen wiped her mace on the back of the decaying corpse’s shirt and clipped it to her side before turning to face the farmer. “Hello,” she then said.

  “Aye, lass. Thank you for taking care of that one.”

  “How long have you been dealing with these creatures?” she asked, reaching up to take hold of her boar’s reigns.

  “They’ve been coming for about a week now. Damned near frightened me to death when I woke up one morning and found one on my doorstep. I thought it was a person at first.”

  “How?” Adrian asked. “They look nothing like people.”

  “Not in the light they don’t. But in the dark?” The farmer signed and balanced his blunderbuss against his shoulder. “I thought it was a ranch hand coming in to report that rats had gotten into the barns again. I opened the door and the first thing I smelled was death.”

  “What’ve you been doing with the corpses?” Ignatius asked. “Burning them?”

  “It’s not as if I can return these poor souls to their graves. Besides—I don’t want to risk my safety going somewhere they’re obviously coming from.”

  “Burning them is the best course of action,” the leader of the Fifth Battalion agreed. “You’ve been doing well, sir.”

  “Thank you, sir Watchman.”

  Ignatius turned to the group—but particularly Anna, who continued to scout the horizon—before clearing his throat and saying, “We’ll stay here for the night before we begin journeying toward the Old Grounds.”

  “That’s where the dead are taken from the city,” Carmen said, wanting to make sure her facts were correct before speaking further, “right?”

  “Right.”

  “I was thinking,” she continued. “If they’ve been coming for a week… and if we’ve killed three just now… how many have you farmers been dealing with?”

  “We’ve stopped counting after a point,” one of the young men—presumably the farmer’s son—said. “We’ve just been killling, dragging and burning them.

  “Can we see the burning pit?”

  The farmers led them, pigs and all, to a massive pit within which there lay the ashen remains of what Carmen assumed were corpses. Charred firewood lined the pit and a distinct smell she had trouble describing greeted her almost immediately as soon as she inhaled.

  “Sir,” Ignatius said after a moment of stooping to examine the remains. “Do you have a barn where the five of us could stow our mounts for the next few days?”

  “If you can solve my problem,” the man said, “then we’d be more than happy to board your pigs for the time being.”

  “We’d be more than happy to deal with it,” Ignatius said.

  - - -

  Fireglass was poured into a makeshift pit from an insulated tube before camp was made later that afternoon. Though not needed for light, the warmth it provided was an enormous comfort to Carmen—who, not used to the strong winds from this part of the mountain, was burrowed into her covers.

  “So,” Stella said as she passed around fresh fruits picked from the orchards. “We need a plan.”

  “The plan is simple,” Ignatius said. “We journey, by foot, to the grounds, and eliminate any walkers we come into contact with.”

  “It won’t be that simple,” Colby said. “If someone is purposely leaving graves open in order to allow the corpse bugs inside, there’s no telling how many of them we might have to deal with when we arrive.”

  “Are they even particularly dangerous?” Carmen asked, leaning forward to accept the bowl of apples and oranges provided. “I mean… considering how decayed most of them are likely to be?”

  “Remember, Carmen: these are creatures of magic. Though they aren’t necessarily dangerous on their own, they have been known to overwhelm and then devour travelers in groups.”

  “I can only imagine getting eaten alive,” Stella said. “Damn. What a way to go.”

  “It doesn’t happen often,” Ignatius said, “but it’s a possibility we have to be aware of, especially since we’re heading into a burial ground.”

  “They’ll be drawn to grounds that are easily accessible,” Anna said. “I don’t know much about them, but from what I’ve read, they communicate with one another.”

  “Which means there’ll be opposition,” her brother added. “Which means a fight.”

  “They’re nothing we can’t handle. We pop their heads and they’re done for. They’re only as strong as they are fresh, and considering how long it takes to deliver a corpse to a cemetery, it’s highly unlikely that many of them will be fresh.”

  Carmen sighed and sunk her teeth into one of the apples, nodding as its juices poured down her throat and into her belly.

  Though she knew she should’ve enjoyed it more, she just couldn’t, what with the all-too-real possibility of another fight coming up.

  Her knee was just beginning to heal.

  Would she be able to handle a confrontation with a mass of undead creatures?

  Not alone, she thought, but with them?

  With that in mind, Carmen leaned forward and continued to eat her meal, all the while knowing that she would never be alone again, not so long as she was with the watch.

  - - -

  They rested until the early evening and then set off for the burial grounds. Knowing that they would have to stop again eventually but not sure when they would be doing so, Carmen kept her steps steady and tried not to push herself too far, but knew that it wouldn’t help due to the fact that she was unaccustomed to the armor. Growing tireder by the moment and unable to continue on, she collapsed near the edge of the crater—where daylight was just beginning to wane and darkness was becoming supreme—and choked out several dry heaves.

  “We have to stop,” Carmen said, defeated, no longer able to stand or get up. “I can’t go any further.”

  “All right.” Ignatius said, turning. “We’ll stop.”

  The fireglass poured previously near the farmlands was deposited onto the ground and poured anew in the space just before the crater ended. Once lit, the world was filled with glorious ora
nge light, prompting Carmen to curl onto her side and sigh as the cramps that were taking hold of her body began to dissipate.

  “I’m sorry I’m so weak,” she said, grimacing as the words came out of her mouth but knowing that they were true.

  “You’re unaccustomed to walking around in heavy armor,” Stella Fryer replied, setting her greatsword down before seating herself beside Carmen. “You did good, considering.”

  “Can I take this armor off?”

  “The better question would be: can you bear to stay in it?”

  Though heavy, it wasn’t completely unbearable. Carmen considered the fact that moving hurt worse than actually being in the armor and nodded to answer the other woman’s question just as Anna raised her rifle to scan their surroundings.

  “Do you see anything?” Adrian asked his sister.

  A light from a handheld gadget suddenly illuminated the surrounding area. The device—shaped like a bat and held at its center—was moved about in Colby’s hand to corroborate Anna’s scouting.

  “No,” Anna finally said after a moment of response. “I don’t see anything.”

  Colby settled down next, followed by Adrian and then Ignatius. It was Anna who remained standing—scanning, through the attached scope of her blunderbuss upon which an intricate magnifying device lay, their surroundings. When it seemed as though she was content with their situation, she, too, settled down and sighed before running a hand through her lengthy red hair. “I’m on edge,” she said.

  “Obviously,” her brother replied. “Corpse bugs spook ya?”

  “You know I don’t like anything that crawls on more than four legs,” Anna replied, settling her blunderbuss across her lap. She slid open a compartment and then withdrew from within it a long cylindrical piece of metal before passing it over to Colby. “Everything looking in order?”

  “Everything’s looking fine,” Colby said. “Why? Are you still worried about this old thing breaking down on you? I already told you: this model is a sturdy one. And I fixed the problem you had with it before.”

  “I just don’t want it going dead on me when we’d need it,” Anna replied as she accepted the weapon back. “Like now, for instance.”