Knight of Gehenna (Hellsong Book 2)

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Knight of Gehenna (Hellsong Book 2) Page 29

by Shaun O. McCoy


  Suddenly Calimay understood Galen. Galen knew that life could be like this. He knew that human beings could work together to fight the devils. He knew that this was the goal. This was why he fought so hard. This was why he was so strong. He just needed a chance to show other people the way.

  “I don’t agree with this,” Tamara was saying. “They’re making too much noise. They’ll draw the devils. They’re happy. You know that makes them unruly. You should have never let Galen lead them.”

  Tamara’s a fool.

  Calimay saw Calista moving along the line. She was pouring water over the serfs’ heads. And they were grateful! They actually looked at her and smiled. They seemed to trust her, not fear her. It was as if a decade of Maab’s conditioning had been erased in a day. Calista stopped before the young boy, the angel’s get, who stood in the line between one of her serfs and the short Asian man Galen had brought with him. She poured the water on the boy’s head more slowly than the rest.

  “How many times are you going to give him water?” A serf shouted.

  Calista and the other serfs laughed.

  “If he wants, till he drowns,” Calista said. “I’m carrying his child, after all.”

  There were more smiles and more laughs.

  Another of Galen’s basket carriers came running down the hall.

  “Ahriman has infected your serfs!” Tamara’s harsh voice reported. “You let that man control them and look what has happened. This damage will be irreparable. Let me stop this, my Queen. I know you like that Galen man, but let me torture him for his crimes. The rustrock is not worth it.”

  “Rose, Rose, Rose Rose, will I ever see thee wed?” her serfs sang.

  “Quiet, Tamara,” Calimay said. “This was my idea. I sent Galen to do this. This is our new way.”

  “My Queen!” Tamara’s eyes were wide. “This is the work of the God of Lies.”

  “Hush, hush,” Calimay ordered, her eyes resting on Galen’s body. “You’re making it hard for me to hear the music.”

  “I will marry at thy will, sire,” Calista’s high voice sang. “At thy will, sire. At thy will, sire.”

  As Graham opened the hatch to Mancini’s still, he looked across Harpsborough. He could see the steeples of Father Klein’s Church over the top floor of the Fore. Taking a deep breath, he lowered himself into the hole. Graham had been in the still a couple of times before while buying bloodwater, but this was the first time he’d come by invitation. It was also the first time he’d come when Mancini hadn’t been firing the still. The chill took him by surprise.

  With the hatch closed behind him, precious little light managed to filter into the stairway. By touch alone, he followed the steps down into the still.

  The stairs wound around and around until he made it to the bottom. The room below was lit by a single one of Copperfield’s torches, held up by a sconce in the wall. Mancini sat on a wooden crate nearby a small table. He poured a glass of bloodwater, the liquid gleaming in the firelight.

  “I’m here,” Graham told Mancini.

  The man’s beady eyes turned towards him. “Congratulations on your new appointment. Have a seat.” Mancini gestured to another wooden crate before pouring a second glass of bloodwater.

  Graham felt a twinge of wounded pride at Mancini’s words.

  Don’t let that weigh on you, Graham. Jealousy will poison you for sure.

  Graham’s mouth salivated as he watched the flowing bloodwater. It was a shame that Mancini had perfected his finest brew just before a famine. Mancini crossed the room with a few steps and pulled the box closer to the table. It grated on the stone floor. Graham sat down. He noticed his hands shaking. Quickly, he placed them beneath the table.

  “It’s the best I could hope for, Citizen,” Graham said.

  “Was it?”

  “It was. I failed at being Lead Hunter. Getting the Enforcer position was more than I deserved.”

  Mancini leaned forward. “The hell it was.”

  Graham was surprised by the man’s sudden vinegar. “You all made a good decision. I wasn’t doing my duties—”

  “The Fore made a terrible mistake when they demoted you. Did you know that had I not made the Enforcer position, they were going to have you return to being just a normal hunter? I made that position, Graham, and I specifically asked for you to fill it. Specifically.”

  “But we weren’t capturing any dyitzu.”

  Mancini shook his head before taking a sip of his own bloodwater. “Of course you weren’t. The villagers were still in the wilds, they were taking your kills.”

  “But Martin’s split them into smaller units. He’s covering more area. And he’s gotten the Fore’s permission to send groups out at night to watch the Kingsriver. I’d never have done any of that.”

  Mancini nodded. “That’s true. But Martin was your man, wasn’t he? Why didn’t he suggest those things to you?”

  Graham leaned back. “Maybe you’re right. But the Molly thing—”

  “Could have happened to anybody. The way I see it, you rid us of a problem that we’d been struggling with for years.”

  Graham’s testicles ached just thinking of the woman, but maybe Mancini had a point. Martin hadn’t been actively hunting while Graham was Lead Hunter, and he was the most experienced. Help from a lieutenant of that caliber, well, it would have done him more good than Huxley had. At the moment, Martin was benefiting from all that Graham had done, and he was using his own ideas, too.

  “What’s done is done,” Graham said.

  “It is,” Mancini said. “And that’s a sad thing. Harpsborough’s coming apart at the seams. If it wasn’t for my idea of a feast day, Constance might have started a civil war already. The last thing we need are extra leadership changes, never mind changes going in the wrong direction.”

  Maybe he’s right.

  Mancini swirled the bloodwater around in his glass. “And I for one,” he said, breaking for a moment to take another sip of his drink, “Would have enjoyed your company in the Fore.”

  Graham set his jaw.

  I was that close. That close. They took it away from me.

  “That’s one of Michael’s failings,” Mancini said, looking at his wine while he thought aloud. “Sometimes he’s not the best judge of character. Hopefully that failing won’t be enough to undo us.”

  Graham drank more of the bloodwater. The fire in the back of his throat caught him by surprise. He suppressed a cough. “Is there nothing that can be done?”

  “Nothing now,” Mancini answered. “What’s done is done, as you said. But keep your eyes open. Do this Enforcer job as best you can. If there’s a way this can be righted, you have to believe me Graham, I’ll right it. You deserve better than this. Anyone can see it.”

  I knew it. I knew I was good enough.

  “Anyone, that is,” Mancini said with a sad smile, “but Michael.”

  Massan was already snoring when Ellen came back from the river. She usually felt pretty guilty when she shit in a river, but since this river was just going to flow into the Cypress swamp, she figured it probably didn’t matter.

  Her ankle was feeling pretty sore. Rick knelt beside her and began to unwrap it. As the strips of cloth came off, she could see that the swelling had come up a bit. Still, it was in good shape when compared to how it looked a few days ago.

  All of the Infidel Friend had left the camp room except for El Cid, who was inspecting its walls. Ellen watched her as she did so. The small girl climbed up in certain places.

  “What are you doing?” Alice asked El Cid in a friendly voice.

  El Cid grunted as she pulled at a rectangular brick of sandstone near the base of one wall. “It’s a good idea to check out the room you sleep in. We do it whenever there is time to. It’s not so bad in this section of the labyrinth, but in others there can be hidden openings. Occasionally they even have devils waiting in them.”

  The Infidel Friend continued her search as they watched.

  “Can
I help?” Alice asked.

  El Cid studied her for a moment. “Sure, come here. See if you can tap at some of these stones that are too tall for me to reach.”

  Alice stood up and walked across the room. Ellen closed her eyes and eavesdropped.

  “How do you think all those undead got there?” Alice asked.

  “Who knows? Sometimes they just group together in a herd, following the topography of the Labyrinth. Could be caused by a call, though. When the greater demons call the lesser ones in, they create little highly populated pockets in Hell. The undead tend to avoid dyitzu. You don’t notice it much, normally, because the dyitzu are evenly dispersed. But when they’re not, you get this effect which we call a dead ring. That’s where you get a circle of undead surrounding a pocket of devils.”

  “So it’s a dead ring, you think?” Alice asked.

  El Cid shrugged. “Could be. They’re not really in a ring shape though. Feels more like a straight line. Still, if the call were very, very large, the outside of the ring might look like a line.”

  They continued searching the walls in silence for a few moments.”

  “It must feel good to order those men around,” Alice said conspiratorially.

  “Why so?” El Cid answered.

  “Well, you know.”

  “Do I?” El Cid’s voice seemed almost disinterested.

  “You’re a girl, like me. Men don’t like taking orders from women.”

  El Cid grunted, perhaps as she was reaching for a rock. “Ah, I see. You think it is ironic because from your perspective, there is a change in gender roles.”

  “I guess.” Alice’s voice wavered.

  “We are not people of God, however, so we did not notice when He told you that women should be quiet or subservient. To us, it would be a little appalling to discover that a girl was getting some sort of rush from ordering her fellows around.”

  Ellen struggled to keep from giggling. Infidels, it seemed, didn’t engage in small talk.

  “There are women in power in Harpsborough,” Alice said, seeming defensive.

  El Cid grunted again. “So what you’re saying is that all broad reaching generalizations are wrong?”

  “Huh?”

  “Little joke. Here, can you try that stone there, the one with the chipped corner?”

  “Sure.”

  Suddenly everyone was quiet. Ellen opened her eyes to see that Rick was still by her. He and El Cid both had their heads cocked to one side. Each of them were slowly moving their heads back and forth.

  All the infidels listen that way. Rick does, too.

  And if Rick did it, he’d learned it from Galen.

  The infidels say there’s a traitor. Someone who used to be one of their own.

  Ellen heard footsteps coming from one corridor. Molly and Q entered the room. Alice had drawn her pistol and it was pointing straight towards Molly. El Cid put her hand on the gun and guided its barrel down.

  “She’s not bad, sir,” Q reported to El Cid. He pointed to Molly. “She kept up nicely, and she has a good sense of direction.”

  Molly nodded, giving no response to the compliment she’d received. “We might have found a place for the crusher, Cid.”

  She’s estranged herself from us. The infidels are going to make her one of them.

  “Good,” El Cid answered. “We’ll check it out in the morning. If it doesn’t look like it will take too long, we’ll be able to clear that lake.”

  The serfs sat at the long woodstone tables Galen had set up in the fountain room, their faces illuminated by the ceiling’s wavy blue light. Because Calimay had no extra chairs to spare, Galen had everyone sitting on the lips of the fountains. This meant that the tables were set up in two lines on either side the carpet, and that each table only had serfs sitting on one side. The workers’ faces were still red from exertion. The salty smell of sweat filled the air, though it did nothing to calm Arturus’ furiously hungry stomach. Many were dipping their cupped hands into the fountain’s water and were splashing it on themselves to help cool down.

  There was a buzz of conversation in the room. The serfs were laughing and smiling. Arturus could hardly believe that these were the same people he’d seen this morning.

  They stopped talking immediately as Galen entered the room.

  “My furious ants!” Galen cried.

  The serfs’ laughter echoed throughout the room. They seemed so carefree, here, out of the mines, in the relative open and with no priestesses around them.

  Galen took no pains to hide his pleasure at their response. Actually, knowing Galen, the man had probably taken pains to make sure his face had a grateful expression on it. “I promised you that you would only work until the room was clear. We have cleared the room, and I have kept my promise. But I have more to give you. I have been allowed to leave Calimay’s compound these last few days in order to gather weapons and ammunition for the Harpsborough hunters. In so doing, I have killed many dyitzu. While you’ve been working, they’ve been cooking.”

  Many of the serfs stood up at their tables. Their shouts were so loud Arturus feared they might travel through the stone walls and into the wilds. Johnny Huang and Kelly entered, each carrying plates of steaming meat. Arturus’ mouth watered as the sweaty odor of the serfs was overpowered by the smell of cooked dyitzu. He felt his stomach tumbling.

  Galen pointed to two of the serfs. “You and you, help them pass out the meat.”

  How different these men seemed from the ones that had screamed so madly at Maab’s ritual. Avery limped into the chamber, taking his seat at one of the tables. Aaron entered shortly thereafter, giving Arturus a smile. Johnny Huang, Kelly, and the two helpers Galen had picked continued divvying up the meat amongst the hundred and fifty or so serfs. With a show of willpower, the serfs did not immediately devour their food. Each one looked at Galen for permission.

  Johnny smiled at Arturus as he placed a still sizzling plate of shaved meat in front of him. Arturus leaned forward, closed his eyes, and let the steam condense on his face. The smell was intoxicating.

  When all of the food had been spread out, Galen nodded. “Gentlemen,” he said, “dig in.”

  Arturus did not need to be told twice. The meat had been prepared simply, lacking any of the spices, salts, or sauces that Rick might have added to it, but this was the first hot food Arturus had eaten since he’d entered the Carrion. Arturus felt a groan escape from his mouth as he devoured his first piece. He picked up a second, this one too large to eat all at once. The hot meat was burning his fingers a little, but he didn’t care. He ripped off a smaller bite with his teeth. The juices rushed into his mouth as he chewed. He paused after a quick swallow and took a deep breath. He looked up suddenly as he noticed everyone had stopped eating. They were all looking towards the curtain at the end of the red carpet.

  The golden priestess and bull curtain was waving back and forth. Calista had entered the room. They watched in silence, a hundred and fifty odd heads swiveling as she walked across the room. She sat down next to Turi. No one spoke.

  She gave him a peck on the cheek.

  Suddenly everyone was laughing and eating again. Arturus smiled. Her hand wormed its way into his.

  I can’t really say no to her, can I?

  Still hungry, he returned to his food, eating one handed.

  “Is it going to be this way from now on?” Arturus overheard a serf asking.

  “I don’t know,” Galen’s voice answered. “I’ve spoken with Calimay about having you all trained for soldier duty as well. About giving you all a life worth living. I think the results of today were very promising. We shall see what she has in mind.”

  A shadow came across the table, blotting out the blue light from the ceiling. Arturus looked up to see Kelly.

  Kelly was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile, and it was aimed at Calista. “Would you like some dyitzu?”

  Calista nodded, not taking her eyes away from Arturus.

  Kelly passed over a plat
e, her eyes boring holes into the oblivious princess.

  Arturus wanted to give her an apologetic look, but Kelly’s eyes didn’t leave Calista for a second.

  “I hope you enjoy it,” Kelly said. She turned quickly, her all black robe swirling around her.

  She’d been able to repair it, Arturus noticed. He watched it cling to her figure as she walked away. Arturus could not help but remember how her body looked when Calimay’s soldiers had stripped her.

  He turned back to Calista to see that the girl’s deep blue eyes were still focused entirely on him.

  I have got to talk to Galen about this.

  Galen stood up, walking between the tables. “I have one more gift for you all.”

  The talking and eating stopped.

  Galen walked out of the room.

  “Should we follow him?” A serf asked.

  Arturus shrugged his shoulders. He thought about standing up, but then he felt a strange vibration coming from the stone lip of the fountain on which he sat. There was a low pitched noise as well. Arturus stood up and looked all around, trying to figure out what the sound could be and where it was coming from.

  The fountain’s marble soldiers and the swirling stone women on their shoulders started shaking violently. Then the noise stopped, and everything became still.

  Arturus looked around the room.

  Suddenly water was everywhere, filling the air. A mist of droplets descended around him. Galen had turned on the fountains.

  Martin entered to find Michael alone in the parlor room, sitting in his favorite chair. For once, there was no chess game set up. The room was brighter as well, and more blankets than usual lay around the base of the light orbs which served to illuminate the room.

  “I’ve been talking to Klein,” the First Citizen said. “He’s given me the same reports you have on the corpseman. You did a good job interrogating him.”

  “Caval wasn’t very hostile,” Martin said.

  “No, he seemed pretty nice for a leper.” Michael stood up and walked across the plush dyitzu skin carpets. He stopped by the liquor cabinet. “You want some of Davel’s new brew?”

 

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