Martin nodded.
Martin was surprised by how red the bloodwater looked. He’d known that Mancini provided a different product to the Fore than he did to the villagers, but he hadn’t tasted it yet.
Michael poured the bloodwater into two crystal glasses. He swirled one absently while he handed the other over to Martin. Martin took the glass with both hands. The idea of drinking out of one of the Citizen glasses made him feel nervous.
“Have a seat.” Michael motioned towards the couch directly across from his favorite chair.
That’s where Mancini usually sits.
Martin moved slowly across the floor, careful to keep his glass from spilling. He sat down. The softness of the couch surprised him, and he nearly spilled his drink when he sank further in than he’d expected. The couch’s frame was made of stone, but it had been extremely well padded with skins and pillows.
“I’ve been impressed with you, Martin,” Michael said.
“Thank you, sir.”
“To tell you the truth, right after we’d chopped off your hand, I never imagined that you would have been the right man for this job. I underestimated you. You’re a fine Lead Hunter.”
Martin took a sip of the blood water. The burn in his throat surprised him. He tried to keep from coughing, but couldn’t. A bit of the bloodwater spilled over the lip of the glass. He caught the liquid with his finger and then sucked it up into his mouth. “I’m not half . . .” he sounded a little hoarse from the burn of the bloodwater. He coughed again. “I’m not half as good as Aaron was,” he continued, his voice a little more steady this time. “I hope I don’t let you down.”
Martin leaned forward in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “No one expects you to measure up to Aaron. But you’ve done well. Far better than Graham. You’re the right man for this job. Now you know that all promotions to Citizen have been frozen because of the famine, right?”
Martin nodded, taking another sip of the bloodwater. He was prepared for its sharpness this time.
“Well, there’s a vote tonight. I wanted you to know that one of my motions will be your induction.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Michael pursed his lips for a second. “I wanted you to know that even if the motion fails, that your Citizenhood is guaranteed. It’s just a matter of time. You will be the very next Citizen inducted.”
If the devils ever come back, I’ll be in good shape.
Martin nodded.
I’ll be able to feed Katie!
Martin smiled.
“The other thing we’re going to vote for has to do with the corpseman.”
“And that is?”
Michael leaned back, swirling the bloodwater again in his glass. He took a sip. “He thinks he can lead a group of hunters back to where the corpse eaters live.”
Martin sat forward, feeling the cushion beneath him shifting from his weight. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“They’ve killed a few of our people, Martin. People you are sworn to protect. There are some caches out there they’ve taken over as well. Right now we really can’t afford to be losing food. We’ve lost so much with Julian’s stash. And the dyitzu are gone. There’s not much of a choice left to us.”
Martin set his glass aside on an end table. “Then we should be able to talk with them. Let them know it was ours first. We can make a treaty.”
Michael nodded. “That’s my suggestion. But I should warn you, Mancini wants war. A lot of the other Citizens do too. I’m going to make our case to them. They’re worried that the only thing negotiation would do is warn them that we’re coming. I’m going to say that the risk is worth it for the chance of avoiding an all out confrontation.”
“But you’re the First Citizen! Order us to try and work with them.”
“I won’t make it an order,” Michael told him, “but with the way things have been going, I have a lot more influence on the vote than I used to. These days, when I and Mancini disagree, things go my way.”
“Will it this time?”
“I don’t know. I have to admit that even I have my doubts on how much negotiating you can do with men who’ve got the rot. Their mind rots too, you know. Not just their bodies.”
Martin stood up. “I understand, sir. I will do whatever you order. But I beg you this, when you make your speech to the Citizens, let them know that the acting Lead Hunter recommends against going to war.”
Michael smiled. “I shall, hunter. I shall. And you should know that the words of Martin carry more weight amongst the Citizens these days than they ever have before. You’re dismissed.”
With a nod so deep it was almost a bow, Martin headed towards the stairs.
If Aaron were here, would he want to go to war?
The thought haunted Martin as he walked down the Fore’s steps, following him like a black cloud as he walked through the waiting room. He pushed through the Fore’s door curtain, entering the Harpsborough chamber.
Martin had to admit that he had no idea what Aaron would have done.
Dakota and Tamara knelt around the hole to their exit passage, eyes lowered. Four other Carrion born were interspersed between Galen, Aaron, Johnny Huang and Kelly. Arturus was surprised by how comfortable those soldiers seemed standing amidst his own crew.
And why shouldn’t they? We’re all on the same side.
Aaron was fiddling idly with his new shotgun. The weapon didn’t seem to suit him.
Avery entered the dark room. His limp was barely noticeable, but Arturus was worried about his ability to run over long distances. Like the rest of their group, he’d been given a pack, canteen, shotgun and pistol. He sat down next to Arturus.
“What are we waiting for?” Avery whispered.
“The mists to drop,” Arturus answered softly. “They’ve got a guy down in the tunnel now with a light. When the mists come in from the Lethe, they pour down into the secret tunnel. That way a dyitzu won’t see us as we come out.”
Avery nodded. He gave a long and hate-filled look to Kelly. “I can’t believe we gave her a weapon,” he muttered.
Arturus sighed. “I guess we need every gun we can get.”
Avery snorted and crossed his arms. “I guess.”
Galen walked over and knelt between them. “You guys clean your shotguns and pistols? Calimay lets them get pretty dirty.”
Arturus and Avery both nodded.
“Wish they’d given us more shells, though.” Avery said.
“I had gathered a lot more than this, but they confiscated it,” Galen said. “I guess they want to make sure we don’t make a break for home after we show them to the mines.” Galen nodded towards Dakota. “They’re sending him with us, all the way up the aqueduct, to make sure we behave.”
“We could kill him,” Avery suggested.
Arturus bit his lip and looked about to see if anyone had overheard that last statement. It appeared that no one had.
Galen frowned, scratching his beard. “No need. Calimay’s been good to us. Let’s not ruin her newfound taste for hospitality.”
Light started coming up through the hole. Arturus leaned forward.
A Carrion soldier’s head poked out. “Mist is starting to drop. I’ll give it another few minutes to make sure it’s good and thick.”
Tamara nodded, and the soldier disappeared back down into the secret passage.
Arturus met his father’s gaze.
“Are you ready for this, son?” Galen asked.
Am I?
The Carrion had no doubt left deep scars in his soul. Was he ready to face it all again? Was it a sign of how much this Hell was getting to him that he was afraid to leave Calimay’s complex? The woman had, after all, ordered he be raped just so she could possess the angel portion of his bloodline.
“Would it matter if I wasn’t?” Arturus asked.
Galen smiled. “No.”
“Then I guess I’m ready.”
Arturus heard footsteps coming
towards the room from Calimay’s complex. Kelly’s face broke into a sneer. Arturus turned to see Calista. Her eyes were for him alone. Her dark curls bounced as she hurried to his side. She held his hands in hers, almost like Maab had once done, and kissed him softly on the lips. Her tongue slipped playfully into his mouth.
She drew back. “I brought you this,” her throaty voice reminded him of the noises she’d made during their lovemaking.
She produced a thin marble dowel that had a curly strand of black hair snaking around it. “It’s my hair. Aaron told me that his lover had done as much for him.”
Arturus gave Aaron a pointed glance. The Lead Hunter shrugged as if apologizing.
Arturus accepted her gift and put it in the pack Calimay had provided him.
Calista grabbed both of his shoulders. “I want you to know I’ll keep our baby safe.” One of her hands left his shoulder, dropping to her belly. “Promise me you’ll return.”
“I will.”
Calista turned to Galen. “You’ll keep him safe?” Suddenly she seemed very sad.
Galen nodded.
Calista kissed him again, fiercely, and then fled. He looked towards Kelly. The priestess, her eyes dark burning coals of spite, were fixed on the passage where Calista had just left.
Oh, hell. I’m going to be a father.
At first the thought seemed innocuous, but as he continued to think about it, the idea grew like a cancer in his mind. Everything that Galen had ever done for him, had ever taught him, hit him all at once.
That’s what I have to give to that child.
What a cruel thing, to make him a father. To make him give so much without him even consenting to the coupling. Since his seed was taken against his will, did that mean he was justified in denying any responsibility for his child? And what of his responsibilities to Hell? What did the Infidel want from him? What did Maab want from him? What could he possibly do to make a difference in a place so filled with devils?
“Father,” Arturus said. “I’m not ready.”
The Carrion soldier’s head came out of the hole again. “The mist is nice and thick. It’s safe to go.”
Arturus was suddenly reminded of the words Rick would say during one of his childhood games.
Ready or not, here I come.
Martin leaned back against the Fore’s wall next to ole Bense. Then, with a sigh of exhaustion, the acting Lead Hunter let his knees bend so that his back slid down the wall. His hoodie bunched up as he did so, and he felt the cool stone touching his back. Eventually, his rump met with the cold, hard floor, and he straightened out his hoodie. He’d been out hunting on the Kingsriver for several hours, and this was the first time he’d gotten to sit down since he’d made his report to the First Citizen about Caval, the corpseman. Absently, he put his hand into his hoodie’s front pocket and scratched his belly.
“You know, Bense,” Martin told the still man, “sometimes I’m thinking you’ve got the right idea here. Just chill out. Let other people worry. Nothing bothers you, does it?”
Benson’s bloodshot eyes kept their fixed, unblinking stare.
“Famine? Nah. Who gives a damn, right? You don’t even fucking eat. Tribe of corpse eaters? Don’t bother you none. They ain’t going to eat you. The Fore wants to go to war? How are they going to draft you, Bense? Shit.” Martin spat. “You got the easy life alright. I’m tellin’ you. I’m jealous.”
Martin chewed on his lip. Some villagers were leaving, probably heading towards the river room. Martin watched them go and then took a look at Benson. The still man’s wan face seemed skinnier than usual.
“You losin’ weight, Bense? Hell of a diet. You just sit here, don’t eat a thing, and watch all the fine ladies go by. I envy you. Look man, I know you ain’t much for talking these days, but I got some questions for ya.”
Martin stopped talking as a pair of villagers walked by. They were two of Constance’s goons. They each wore blue t-shirts. That was becoming the Constance gang’s de facto uniform. Martin had never liked gangs. There had been a pretend one in his high school where he grew up. They had delusions of being Bloods. Of course, it was sort of hard to think of them as hardened criminals when they all went home to their mothers after school.
Still, the idea of Constance’s gang bothered Martin.
Maybe it’s because the Fore’s got me on their side, now. I wonder if I would have supported them before I was put in this Lead Hunter position.
The two men were pretty damn well armed. Each had a belt of ammo around his waist. They carried 700 Remingtons, the same as Martin’s hunters. When they were out of earshot, Martin leaned over and whispered into Benson’s ear. “I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to be doing. I told Mike I didn’t want to go to war. But maybe, maybe I’m just . . .”
Martin stopped talking as he saw Katie. The girl was looking much healthier now, after the feast. The dark circles were gone from under her eyes, and Martin didn’t know if it was just his imagination or the cut of her blue tank top, but it looked like she’d packed a little weight back into her bosom. She had a white sarong wrapped around her waist, too, which added to her curvaceousness.
“Hey!” Martin said.
“I thought you might need someone to talk to,” Katie’s smile covered her face.
“How’d you know?”
Katie walked past him and then sat down. She scratched the back of her head, causing the extra skin under her arms to jiggle. “You’re talking to Benson. That always means you need to talk.”
“Oh yeah? I guess it does.”
“And frankly, I need to talk to you, too.”
She did look a little worried.
“What’s on your mind?” Martin asked.
“Erica says the Fore’s considering going to war. Says they are going to vote on it.”
Martin straightened his legs from where he sat, feeling a bit of a pull in his hamstrings. “Yeah, princess. That’s true.”
“If they vote for war, they aren’t going to send you, are they?”
My God, this girl really cares for me.
The idea of someone actually loving him seemed a foreign one. It was an idea he’d left behind long ago. Hell, he hadn’t even found someone to love him in the old world—except for his dog.
“I’d send myself,” Martin told her.
“Don’t go. Send Graham. No one would care if he dies.”
Martin laughed, but he noticed that Katie wasn’t making a joke. She was dead serious.
“I’m afraid, princess,” Martin admitted to her. “I don’t know what’s right. I keep trying to think about what Aaron would do. Aaron wouldn’t want to hurt a fly. He wouldn’t even let Mancini kill ole Bense.” Martin pointed a thumb at his friend.
“Then don’t go!” Katie said. “Don’t let the Fore send you.”
Martin shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “But Aaron wouldn’t be afraid, either. Corpse eaters are unpredictable. They’ve killed some of our people. I don’t know if we can afford to let them alone. Maybe I want peace because I’m a coward?”
Katie leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. “You’re the bravest man I know.”
Martin snorted. “I hope not, princess. I can feel my balls rising even just thinking about going after them corpse eaters. I wish Aaron was here.”
“Look at me, Martin.”
Martin stared into her dark brown eyes.
She put a hand on his arm. “It doesn’t matter what Aaron would do. He might have wanted war, or peace. Either way, it doesn’t mean a thing. You’re Lead Hunter, Martin. The people in Harpsborough are asking themselves what you’ll do now, not what Aaron would have done. You decide what you want.”
Martin looked back over to Benson for a moment. “Well I fucking want peace.”
“Is that what you told the Fore you wanted?” Katie asked him.
Martin nodded.
“I love you, Martin.”
Martin turned towards her in surprise.
“Really?”
She smiled.
He grabbed her arm. “I love you, too!”
She stood up and then bent down, kissing him on the forehead. “You better.”
Martin watched her walk away, her white sarong swishing back and forth with the motion of her hips.
“Did you hear that, Bense?” Martin asked his still friend. “She said she loved me.”
Martin jabbed a friendly elbow into Benson’s arm. The still man slumped over from the force. Horrified, Martin reached over and grabbed him. He looked about to make sure no one was looking. Thankfully, no one was.
The passage that Q led them to was a square one, about ten feet wide and ten feet tall. The floor was sloped at an odd angle which Q had described as being about ten degrees. To Ellen it seemed a lot steeper than that. Traveling here was made even more treacherous by the fact that a small amount of water, perhaps only an inch deep, flowed down it. The sound of the trickling water filled her ears.
Ellen stood at the base of the corridor where it bottomed out into the Cypress swamp. She looked out into the trees, searching for any sign of the corpses. She didn’t see any.
“Ellen, dear,” Rick called to her. “Stay away from the entrance. There could be corpses.”
Ellen nodded and started coming back. Aiden gave her a hand, and pulled her past him. She felt a twinge in her ankle from the way it had to keep her moving up the corridor, but the pain wasn’t bad.
“Since we don’t have much time,” Q was saying, “and since there are so God damned many of them, I figured the river would be a good way to clear out the crushed corpses. We can cut away this part of the ceiling, here.” He pointed over Ellen’s head. “Put a large rock there. We can raise it with a waterwheel. We’d have the lure behind a grate here.” He motioned to where there was a jut in the otherwise mostly straight corridor. “Only tough part would be the gear switch. After the rock was pulled up all the way, the waterwheel would have to switch to the lure. Maybe fifteen minutes later or so we could rig it so that the rock would fall, crush the corpses, and then the process would repeat.”
“Crush ‘em and Flush ‘em,” Eagan said.
Knight of Gehenna (Hellsong Book 2) Page 30
