“I’ll help you if you like, Abednego.”
“I told you to call me Abe,” he said. “And please, Ivan, just shut up.”
“Very well.”
A horn sounded from a half-mile ahead, and the long procession of horseless carriages inched forward. Abe offered a silent prayer to the Pentus and pulled back on the handles. The Warhorse slowly lifted off the ground, wind from its mechanisms splaying the grass and raising clouds of dust. Abe pressed the handles forward ever so slightly, the oblong machine’s nose dipped, and Abe began to soar.
He passed by the carriages, countless eyes on him. The Warhorses had become objects of great interest, as any machine that hovered a foot off the ground and could dart around at amazing speeds was bound to be.
Abe heard Meesh let out a bellow of excited laughter just before a silver blur rocketed by him; a wake of dust and dirt rose and fell. Those in the procession cheered, then another blur raced past.
“Dammit,” Abe muttered. “Ivan?”
“Yes, Abedne… Abe?”
“You won’t let me crash, will you?”
“Absolutely not. My internal governor will override the manual guidance should you lose control.”
“Whatever that means. My life is in your hands.”
He leaned on the handles as much as he could, and the Warhorse raced ahead like it’d been shot out of a cannon. Wind pummeled his face, billowed his shirt, stung his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest.
“How are we feeling?” asked Ivan, his voice nearly drowned out by the rushing wind.
Abe didn’t reply. He leaned to the right, felt the world tilt on its axis as he skimmed across the swaying grasses. He then veered back to the left before straightening out. The drone of the Warhorse’s motor created a staccato-like sound that shook his bones. The world flew by him. He didn’t know how fast he was going, but when he peered toward the line of carriages to the left, they melded into a long, gray smudge.
His brothers were mere dots up ahead. “Ivan, can we go faster?” he shouted.
Abe wasn’t sure what the response was, since he could barely hear his own voice, but he assumed it was yes as a second later the Warhorse picked up speed. The excitement got to be too much, and he opened his mouth to shout out in joy, but the rush of wind ballooned his cheeks. He cackled at the careening world, for once carefree.
I’ve never felt more alive…
Old memories of Tesha drifted away, as did his crisis of faith. All that existed was the Warhorse, the ground that flew beneath him, his pounding heart, and the chase.
It took bare moments to reach Shade and Meesh, and he cut between them, playfully swerving toward one, then the other. Both his brothers grinned as wide as he did, and together they shot through the wind, three men atop screaming projectiles, leaving the world far behind. Abe closed his eyes, trusting the Warhorse to protect him should anything go wrong, and behind his eyelids he saw a black paved road bordered by thick, sturdy trees. He raced ahead, toward a large green sign that read Welcome to Greenwood!, and then that too was behind him.
Abe’s eyes snapped open, and he was back in the real world. He shuddered and pulled back on the Warhorse’s handles. His fellow knights sped by him as the machine slowed. The whining of its engine grew less intense, and it lowered to the ground.
“Are we resting?” Ivan’s voice asked.
“We are.”
“Very well. Shutting down.”
Abe dismounted and took a few shaky steps, his whole body vibrating. In the distance, his brothers circled around and headed back toward him. Abe wrapped his arms around himself and sighed.
Another day, another strange vision. A kernel of fear formed in the back of his mind.
It took mere moments for Shade and Meesh to reach him. They veered their Warhorses to the side and lowered them. “What’s up, brah?” asked Meesh with a grin. “Too old to keep pace?”
Abe forced a smile. “Pretty much.”
“Age sucks.”
“You okay?” Shade said.
“I am.”
“Really?” His bearded brother dipped his head and gave him a serious stare.
“Really,” Abe told him. “Trust me, I’d tell you if I wasn’t.” Liar.
“Just remember, I’m always here for you,” Shade said, watching Abe closely.
The echo of his own earlier words intensified Abe’s guilt. “I will.”
Meesh tapped his fingertips on the Warhorse’s shiny metal casing. “So, we gonna do this or what?”
“We will.” Abe looked behind him, could barely see Ronan Cooper’s advancing army. “I think we should take it a bit slower, though.”
“Party pooper,” Meesh said.
Abe shrugged. “Someone has to be.”
They rode for the next six hours, twice looping back to rejoin the procession of Outriders. They stopped only once, to eat a lunch of salt pork and hard biscuits. The land changed; the grass became thicker and greener, and a smattering of small trees dotted the countryside. Finally, up ahead, the glimmer of sunlight danced off water like tongues of flame.
The brothers stopped on a rise and stared down at the raging torrent. The River Butte, which originated in the great mountains to the north, was a gaping, quarter-mile wide wound that flowed for six hundred miles until it dumped out into the Gulf of Torrin. Abe told his Warhorse to shut down and swung off it, meandering down the bank. He stood, hands on hips, and stared at the desolate grayness on the other side. The sky was a deep crimson as the sun set.
“This the place?” Meesh asked.
“Cooper’s convinced it is.”
Shade scrunched up his face. “You ever been over there?”
“Never. No one’s crossed the river since Meshach the Twelfth.”
“What do the books in the Temple say?” Shade asked.
“Just that it’s empty. Nothing can grow there.”
Meesh chuckled. “You know, I think this is it.”
“Is what?” Abe asked.
“The edge of the world, brah.” He patted the vest pocked where the Crone’s riddle was hidden. “The edge of the freaking world.”
“It’s possible.”
“It is.”
Shade screwed up his lips. “Er, how’re we gonna get across?”
“Don’t know,” said Abe.
“Wow, we’re really going on faith here, aren’t we?” Meesh said.
“We always do,” Abe replied. “And I guess we always will.”
14
“DO I KNOW YOU GUYS FROM SOMEWHERE?”
—MESHACH THE 23RD
15 MINUTES AFTER CREATION
Cooper and the Outriders reached the river just before the sun set. They aligned their chariots in a semicircle, creating a makeshift barrier against any potential danger. The rapidly waning moon lit up the night sky as the Outriders erected tents, stoked fires, and lowered horses from their trailers to feed. The three knights aided where needed and were greeted with appreciative, even fawning expressions each time. Meesh couldn’t help but laugh. We killed a hellbeast bigger than any ever seen, and you still hated us. But we zip around on impossible steel chariots, and suddenly we’re popular. Go figure.
He worked his way through the camp. People sat around their fires and chatted quietly with their neighbors; a few even laughed. It was an unexpected display of levity, especially considering the seriousness with which these folks marched, the gravity of their voices when they talked about their god. Meesh chuckled and glanced toward the head of the camp, where Cooper’s command pavilion was still being put up. For a brief moment, Meesh allowed himself to fear for these people. If Ronan Cooper steered them wrong, if he wasn’t the great leader he appeared to be…
He shoved the thought aside. Meesh wasn’t the contemplative type.
Someone cursed in the near distance, and Meesh strutted toward the sound. Laughter filled the air, followed by a woman’s shouts for them to shut the hell up. He quickened his pace and came upon a formless tent
that billowed from the inside like a leathery snake egg. The small crowd that had gathered around laughed and pointed. One of the women present jeered.
“Shut it, all of you!” shouted the formless lump of canvas.
Meesh approached the tent, leaned over, and lifted the bottom corner of the fabric. Within he saw a woman struggling with the pole that should hold the ten upright.
“Need some help?” he asked.
“Bugger off!” the woman barked.
Meesh let go of the canvas, let it fall. “Okay,” he said as he backed away.
Eventually, the pole was put in place and the sides of the tent straightened. The crowd continued to heckle, bathing in the joy of finding humor in another’s hardship.
The occupant burst through the tent flap. It was the black woman who’d greeted them on the road, the same one who’d given Abe a not-so-subtle threat after the hellbeast fell. She looked distressed, disheveled, and downright pissed.
“What’s the matter, Kamini?” asked a hefty man with red cheeks and a bulbous nose. “Trouble?”
The woman pulled out a sword from her heap of belongings, the steel hissing out of its scabbard. The tip bounced inches from the large man’s neck. He stumbled backward, nearly fell. Meesh looked on in amusement. Can’t wait to see where this goes…
“Screw you, Denton,” Kamini seethed. She then waved the sword at all gathered. “Screw all of you.”
“You should calm down,” said a stocky woman with a head of short, chestnut hair. “You’re being a bitch.”
Kamini spun, pointed the sword at her. “Go away, Trish,” Kamini said. “And I suggest you all think twice before calling me a bitch.”
“It’s your own fault,” said yet another man. “I think you need another lesson.”
“Watch yourself,” Kamini said. She plunged the blade into the ground, where it teetered. “Just remember what happened to the last man who tried to ‘teach me a lesson.’”
That seemed to quiet the protestors, who murmured amongst each other before dispersing. Meesh folded his arms over his chest and stared at Kamini as she proceeded to hammer a stake into the ground. Sweat beaded on her brow, saturated her red bandana.
It seemed not everything was hunky-dory in Cooper’s army after all.
“You too,” she said without looking up. “Leave. Now.”
“I’d rather not,” he replied.
She paused her hammering and glared at him. “I’ll give you the same warning I gave them.”
Meesh shrugged. “Eh, I’m not in the mood to give you a lesson. And I can handle myself. You’re welcome to try me though. I’m pretty handy with a sword myself. And these.” He patted the revolvers on his hips.
She grunted and moved onto the next stake.
“I’m curious though,” Meesh said. “Why the hate? Why does nobody want to help you? Everyone else I’ve seen worked together. Not you.”
“I don’t need help,” she muttered.
“Ah. A do-it-yourselfer. How independent.”
Kamini dropped her hammer and leaned back on her calves. “Are you going to stand all there all day and make commentary?”
“Nah,” Meesh said. In a single fluid motion, he slipped to the ground and crossed his legs. “I’ll sit here and make commentary instead.”
“Wonderful.”
She ignored him and went about tightening the ropes of her tent, and then using a spade, she dug out a shallow fire pit. Meesh had to admit, she was an alluring woman. When she stripped off her red tabard and stood there in nothing but a sweaty, loose-fitting cotton shirt, he couldn’t look away. She was lean and muscular, her dark skin glimmering in the moonlight. She was slender, and with angular features, and without the tabard, her woman’s curves were revealed. Meesh felt a stirring in his gut.
Kamini stacked a few small logs inside the newly-dug pit and lit a match. The fire wasn’t very big, and it wouldn’t last very long, but given that the nights this far north were muggy and uncomfortable, that was okay. Kamini dumped the contents of a leather pouch into a small iron pot and dangled it over the fire.
“What’s that?” Meesh asked.
“Oh, you’re still here,” the woman said.
“That’s the rumor.”
She rolled her eyes and secured the pot above the low fire.
“Where you from?” he said.
She didn’t reply.
A recognizable, if faint, odor of spice wafted across Meesh’s nose. “Ah, sage,” he said. “Love that stuff. Got whole herb gardens back in Sal Yaddo. Not much around here though.”
Kamini pressed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to speak with you. I’ll tell you again. Go away.”
“Hey, I’m just offering company.”
“For me or you?”
“For me, of course. It gets lonely traveling with two men. I’ll tell you a secret… my brothers aren’t very interesting. And they’re not fun to look at either.”
“They’re not your brothers,” the woman said, eyes intent on the simmering pot. “They look nothing like you.”
“True enough. But we’ve called ourselves brothers since the day we were created, so I guess it’s a term defined by constant repetition.” He sniggered under his breath.
“You’re not funny,” she told him.
“I get that a lot.”
Kamini took a deep breath, swirled the pot one more time, placed it down beside her, and took the bandana off her head, revealing a springy nest of tight curls. She then leaned over, blew on the pot’s contents, and ladled a spoonful of some sort of stew into her mouth.
Meesh’s stomach rumbled. “Care to share?” he asked.
“Go away, you idiot.”
“You know, a simple no would’ve worked just fine. What’s your problem with me anyway?”
“I hate you.”
“That’s a little uncalled for.”
She scowled.
Meesh lifted his leg, hugged it to his chest, and stared intently at the angry woman, trying to soften her. It wasn’t working. “I’ll bite,” he finally said. “You hate me. Why?”
Kamini spat into the fire. “Because you’re just like the rest of them.”
“Rest of who?”
“Them,” she said, and proffered her arm out wide.
“Wow, you really don’t like nobody, do you?”
“I liked Garret.” She turned away and continued eating her stew.
Garret? Didn’t ring a bell. “I get it,” he said. “You lost someone.”
Kamini paused mid-bite and peered at him.
“No, I get it, I really do. I won’t tell you I feel your pain. I’ve been lucky. Most of those like me… like my brothers… they’ve lost everything. Abe, the bald one? He’s buried something like fourteen brothers. Even had to do in a couple himself. But me? I’ve been blessed. Six years, and the only people I love, those two cranky bastards, are still here. So I won’t give you advice, I won’t tell you I understand. But I like you. I like your spirit. Tomorrow we’re gonna be crossing the river… not something I’m really keen on doing. If you wanna have a friend to talk to before we’re all worm food, just let me know.”
Kamini gawked at him, seemingly confused.
A horn sounded. “Well, that’s my cue,” Meesh said, slapping his knee and standing up. “Guess your fearless leader wants us to put on a show tonight, so if you’re curious what real music sounds like, c’mon by the big tent.” He winked. “Love to see you there.”
He walked away without another word, and felt Kamini’s eyes on him the whole time. Meesh whistled, imagining an optimistic end to the evening. She’ll change her mind, he thought, hopefully.
The area in front of Cooper’s command tent was packed. One of the steel flatbeds had been lowered, and the knights’ instruments rested atop it, along with three chairs. A large crowd had gathered; thick wooden casks filled with cornmeal moonshine were being passed around. There was a buzz in the air that Meesh hadn’t felt in a long time. It almost felt like
these people were celebrating the last night they would ever know.
Abe and Shade awaited him by the makeshift stage, chatting with Cooper and Asaph. The older man seemed far beyond excited, his eyes wide and hands flailing about as he spoke. Meesh went up to the four of them, threw his arms around his brothers’ shoulders.
“So, we doin’ this or what?” he asked.
“We are,” said Abe. Cooper nodded in appreciation; Asaph clapped his hands. The two of them stepped away from the stage as the three knights climbed atop it.
“How’re the common folk?” Shade asked. He seemed to be in a much better mood now, and when he picked up his guitar, he looked as close to happy as Shade ever got.
“Eh, it was okay,” Meesh replied, lifting his eyes to the river that raged in the distance. “Anyone figure out how we’re gonna cross that yet?”
“Cooper said he has a plan,” Abe said. “But he’s being a bit… guarded about it.”
“Any ideas?”
Abe grinned. “Not really. Not worrying about it now. Let’s just play.”
“Yeah, lets. And let me take the lead this time. Tonight, I wanna sing.”
“You got it,” said Shade.
The brothers took their seats, and the music began. Shade and Abe took turns strumming out melodies, and Meesh’s hands were a blur as he slapped his bongos. Meesh threw back his head, belting out heartfelt tune after heartfelt tune. Their songs overwhelmed the night, brightened it; it was almost like they’d ripped apart the fabric of this harsh world and infused every particle of it with beauty.
They performed for nearly an hour, and never once did any of the knights show they were tired. The crowd exploded in applause when each song ended, only to fall into a rapt silence when the next began. When things went like this, Meesh felt powerful. He felt like a god.
Another song ended, and Cooper stepped onto the stage. Behind him was Bertram carrying another chair, followed by Asaph with a beaten-looking guitar in his hands. The knights paused, the crowd quieted. Bertram placed the chair beside Abe.
“Our friend from the north wishes to join you,” Cooper said.
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