Knight of Gehenna (Hellsong Book 2)

by Shaun O. McCoy

  VENIA CCCIƆƆƆMMCIV

  “That’s Infidel sign,” Kelly warned. “Galen, where the hell are you taking us?”

  “It is indeed Infidel sign,” Galen said, “but this is also a symbol from an earlier time. The ancients used to rule this place, before the devils swallowed it and made it their own. This is something they built.”

  “What is it?” Aaron asked.

  “An aqueduct’s service tunnel. It will take us where we want to go. Wait here. I’ll open it.”

  Galen trotted off, leaving them alone by the whetstone. Arturus thought he heard a click, but he couldn’t be sure. Galen returned after a few more moments.

  “Help me,” he ordered.

  Galen got next to the whetstone wall and began pushing. Aaron and Dakota joined him. Slowly, the wall moved to the right, sliding open. When they had it wide enough to slip through, Galen motioned them in. Dakota was the last to enter. He cast a worried glance behind him as he crossed over the threshold.

  “Let’s close it up,” Galen ordered.

  Aaron and Dakota helped him in closing the wall, though Galen stopped them when it was about six inches from being shut.

  “Toss out that pepper spray,” Galen ordered.

  Dakota did so, tossing it out onto the stones outside.

  Galen raised his shotgun. “Get ready to close it.”

  Dakota and Aaron braced themselves. Galen fired, and the pepper spray can exploded. Aaron and Dakota were quick to shut the door, but Arturus felt his eyes stinging nonetheless. After a moment, he started to cough.

  The place they had entered was pitch black.

  “Ancients didn’t need to see?” Johnny whispered harshly.

  “Will we be safe?” Aaron asked.

  “I don’t know,” Galen said. “Sometimes, when the settling occurs, these passages get exposed. Devils can get in them.”

  “They’ll win, if we have no light,” Johnny said.

  “I’ll lead us a few hundred yards in, just in case the hounds recover quickly. Then we’ll get some sleep.”

  Julian looked across the room by the flickering light of their single stolen candle. There was a new face, a sixth when there had been but five. New faces were dangerous things. A new face could report their prayer services to a priestess. And if Selena were to hear this, well, Julian knew he couldn’t withstand another conversion session. His soul would simply break.

  But new faces were necessary if God was going to be brought into the hearts of the men of the Carrion. Throughout the day, Julian and the others would speak to the serfs. They would gauge their answers. They would listen to what the men said—and to what they didn’t say—and then guess which ones might be amenable to Christ.

  John, the man who had found Julian, had brought the guest.

  “What’s your name?” Julian asked the new man.

  “George.”

  “And will you break bread with us, George?”

  The question was strictly metaphorical here. In place of bread, they had some devilwheat that they mixed in a cup and drank from. It was the best they could manage under the circumstances.

  “I want to,” George said. “I really do. But Maab’s right on this one. The God I worshiped on Earth, whoever He was, is not in Hell. This is the domain of Ahriman. Look how powerful Maab and her people have become. We’ve all heard how terrible the Christians do.”

  John spoke up. “Brother Julian is from one of those cities.”

  “How many men are in it?” George asked.

  “Five hundred.”

  George shook his head. “But Maab has over a thousand in her complex alone, and those are just soldiers. She has over ten thousand slaves. That’s not even counting how many men she could call to her side from the other priestesses. Your village is but an afterthought.”

  “It’s true,” Julian answered. “But Harpsborough is pretty close to one of the minor priestess’ complexes.”

  “I’m sorry, but if you want me to pray with you, you’re going to have to show me something solid. You’ve heard those Little Ladies talk about the Bible. Everything I’ve learned from speaking to others is that they’re right. Unless you can show me how they’re wrong, unless you can show me how your God is in Hell . . .”

  The candlelight flickered for a few moments.

  “I don’t know that God is in Hell,” Julian said. “I don’t. But I can tell you that if you were to find God here, I know where you’d look. I didn’t notice it when I was in Harpsborough until I left, but there was a feeling, almost like a spirit, that bound us all together. They have their problems, that’s true. People hurt each other. There are fights. Occasionally there are even murders. But compared to this place . . .” Julian paused. “If you’re gonna find God in Hell, then it’s in community. You’ll feel it in your connection with the other people that you love. Maybe that’s what they meant when they said God was love. I don’t know.

  “But what I can tell you is that there is this bond that the people in Harpsborough share. And I can tell you that bond is here, in this very room, between those of us who have gathered together to pray in His name. You asked me, George, you asked me how many soldiers Harpsborough had. And I told you. Let me ask a question. How many slaves does Maab have?”

  “At least ten thousand.”

  “And do you know how many slaves Harpsborough has?”

  George shook his head.

  “Zero.” Julian handed him their communal bowl. “The blood of Christ. The bread of Heaven.”

  George drank from the cup.

  Galen’s torch sprang to life. The firelight danced, illuminating their surroundings.

  They were in a single cylindrical tube whose ceiling was about twenty feet high. As for how far back it went, and how far forward, Arturus could not tell. After a moment, he realized the tunnel was sloped slightly downwards.

  In the center of the tunnel ran the aqueduct itself. It was a large trough, about twelve feet tall. Along the base of the aqueduct was a series of stone cubbies which a man could lie down in. Arturus wanted to climb up those cubbies and get to the lip of the aqueduct. Then he could look down in it and see if there was any water. The cubbies and the aqueduct split the cylinder in two, and Arturus would not be able to see the other side without making that climb. There was a walkway that ran alongside the aqueduct, flattened into the otherwise curved stone. It was about four feet wide.

  That’s where we’ll walk.

  Galen led them forward, his bubble of torchlight beckoning Arturus onward. Avery had a severe limp, and the blood had made it all the way down his pant leg.

  I hope he didn’t rip a stitch.

  The stones forming the aqueduct and the chamber itself were different than Arturus was used to. Their shape was entirely uniform, and they had been mortared together. Undoubtedly, they had been treated with rustrock. As incredible as it seemed, Arturus figured this place must have been built by humans.

  As Arturus’ eyes adjusted to the flickering light, he was able to see a good ways down the long and seemingly endless tunnel. The cubbies were built about four feet high and were located every thirty feet or so. A small ladder, apparently made out of metal, was placed beside each set of them.

  We must have traveled a few hundred yards by now.

  Avery was breathing hard, but he hadn’t complained at all.

  Over the walkway was a long pipe, perhaps made out of whetstone. Arturus found it hard to believe that the pipe was made by humans. You couldn’t just chop up whetstone like it were hellstone. Hell’s architect must have had something to do with its creation . . . but that seemed counter intuitive. Why would the architect make anything of the sort? Maybe the ancients had found some way to work whetstone.

  Arturus watched his father duck into one of the cubbies.

  Avery breathed a sigh of relief. Arturus settled down on the other side of the cubby wall from his father. The rest followed suit. Predictably, Kelly lay down next to him. For some reason, Arturus felt mor
e comfortable with her there by his side.

  “We’ll sleep for a few hours,” Galen said. “We should start moving then, just in case the Minotaur sees through our little trick.”

  “You mean Unitaur.” Johnny said.

  Galen laughed. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

  “Who could have built all this?” Arturus asked. “It must have taken thousands of people.”

  “It did take thousands to build aqueducts like this one. Hundreds of thousands.” Galen answered. “The ancients were very numerous and very skilled.”

  Johnny nodded. “And this whole thing carried water?”

  “Millions and millions of gallons,” Galen said.

  Johnny put his hand up on his chin. “Those ancients, they must have been very thirsty.”

  Arturus smiled.

  “Quiet down, now” Aaron whispered. “We should get to sleep.”

  “Lights out,” Galen warned.

  The torchlight was extinguished and all became dark. Arturus put his pack behind him and laid upon it. It felt rather comfortable. He felt Kelly laying down next to him, touching him. He felt her lips on his neck, then his cheek, and then he was kissing her.

  “Guns at the ready,” Galen warned. “I’m about to light the torch.”

  “I thought you said it was safe?” The whisper sounded like it was Johnny’s voice.

  “Should be,” Galen answered. “Like I said, the settling can sometimes open the aqueduct to the outside of Hell. It can get very dangerous in here. Only one direction to run.”

  Arturus heard the strike of stone on stone. There was a sudden flash from the sparks from a firerock brick. Then another strike and another flash. Then a third strike and the torch caught fire. The bubble of light seemed puny compared to the seemingly infinite tunnel. Small metal bridges crossed over the aqueduct itself in places. Each one grew dimmer as they receded into the distance.

  I wonder how many bridges there are.

  Avery was slow to get to his feet. The blood on his pants had dried. There was a small patch near his groin that was fresh, though.

  “I need to check your wound,” Galen told him.

  Avery shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re bleeding. You’re not fine.”

  “I will not strip down for you.” The anger in Avery’s voice surprised Arturus.

  Avery looked at Kelly. He wanted to kill her, Arturus knew. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

  Aaron looked at the ceiling for a moment before walking over to Avery. “Galen needs to inspect your wounds, hunter. You will allow him to do so.”

  Avery crossed his arms. “I told you, I’m fine.”

  “That wasn’t a request, hunter. That was an order.”

  Avery’s nostrils flared. “Fine. Take that little bitch away.”

  Galen turned towards Arturus. “Take her up ahead, stay put for a while. We’ll be there shortly.”

  Arturus nodded. “This way,” he told Kelly.

  He led her a hundred feet or so down the aqueduct. At this distance, the light wasn’t much to see by. Arturus settled down into a cubby. Kelly sat next to him, stealing a kiss. Her hands started to wander across his body.

  “Not now,” Arturus said. “Not unless you want Avery to kill me.”

  “Who cares what he thinks?” Kelly asked. “He’s a God damned rapist.”

  He is. But he’d never rape a Harpsborough girl.

  “He doesn’t count you as human,” Arturus told her.

  Arturus heard the rustle of her robe as she shrugged.

  They waited there, holding hands in the darkness. After a few minutes, the torchlight started creeping towards them. Arturus freed his hand from Kelly’s and he stood up.

  As the group approached, Arturus could tell that Avery was waddling.

  “Everything okay?” Arturus asked.

  The torch in Galen’s hand wavered as he nodded. “Wound reopened a little, but the stitches are holding. We’re ready to go. It’s good to have a scout go first. Less noise. That way we can hear our enemies before they hear us.”

  Arturus nodded. That seemed wise.

  “You ready to scout, Turi?” Galen asked.

  “Me?”

  “You’re our tunnel rat, remember?”

  “Oh yeah,” Arturus said. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “Up the wall,” Galen ordered. “I want you on the lip of the aqueduct. That way you’ll be able to hear anything in it. There’s also a sister service corridor, just like this one, on the far side.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Arturus used one of the cubbies to help himself up. With a jump, he was able to grab the lip of the aqueduct and pull himself up on it. At that height, the ceiling was too close for him to stand comfortably. He knelt instead, uncertain of his balance. His pack shifted, almost knocking him over. He cinched it tighter around his midsection.

  In the distance, he heard a hound’s call. He hoped it wasn’t from inside the tunnel.

  “I’m going to check the other service walkway before we start,” Arturus said.

  He heard Galen’s grunt come up from below.

  The dim light from the torch wasn’t much to go by, but he could see the dark grey form of the empty aqueduct below him. He lowered himself into it. The stone was slick, not because it was damp, but because it was well polished.

  It’s whetstone too.

  Like the pipe above, Arturus wondered if it was even possible that humans could have constructed such a thing. Maybe it was. Hell’s architect made many wonders, but somehow creating a system of deliberate water distribution didn’t seem to be in its character.

  “Be quick, son,” Galen’s whisper carried into the aqueduct. “You heard that hound’s call. We may not be alone in here.”

  Arturus climbed up the far side, the tread of his boots slipping on the smooth whetstone.

  The other service tunnel looked the same as the one his friends were in, though it was only illuminated from the unsteady torchlight reflecting off of the cylindrical ceiling. Arturus spent a moment searching the place carefully while his eyes adjusted. It seemed safe.

  What people could have built all this? How long ago? How could a people so powerful have fallen?

  Arturus returned to the right lip of the aqueduct and looked down at his father and the hunters. “Ready.”

  Galen extinguished the torch.

  “Keep pace with us, just stay a few hundred yards ahead.” Galen said.

  “How can I know where you are?” Arturus asked. “It’s pitch black.”

  Galen didn’t respond, but Arturus knew the answer anyway. He listened as the sound of the moving Harpsborough hunters filled the chamber. Slowly, careful not to fall from where he was perched, Arturus moved ahead. At times he started to get too much of a lead and was forced to slow his pace. Avery must have been slowing them down.

  My father is wise. This aqueduct cuts in a straight line right through the labyrinth. Even running, there’s no way they’ll get Tamara to the City of Blood and Stone before us.

  He thought about this some more.

  If only they’d built an aqueduct that led to Harpsborough.

  Martin opened one of the church doors for Chelsea, letting her in before closing it behind them both. The heavy thud of the woodstone running into the granite doorway sounded strangely comforting. Martin knelt for a moment in the aisle, crossing himself—up, down, left, right. He could never remember whether left or right was supposed to come first.

  Doesn’t really matter now, does it?

  Graham, Constance and Huxley were waiting for him before the pulpit where Father Klein gave his sermons. He and Chelsea strode side by side down the long walkway, his boots clopping purposefully against the stones. Their echoes made him feel important. Chelsea’s footsteps were as soft as a rabbit’s.

  Or as a lion’s. She’s got her hair down today.

  When he approached the trio, the church door opened again. He looked back over his shou
lder to see Hidalgo. The man had dressed more appropriately. He almost looked like a villager might, wearing a sleeveless black vest to carry his ammo. Hidalgo had worn no undershirt, but his pants were respectable. His dreadlocks had been pulled back and tied neatly, though their beads still rattled as he walked. Hidalgo’s long arms swung wildly as he hurried to catch up. Martin could not help but smile.

  Thank God he brought nicer pants.

  “I be,” Hidalgo reported, catching up with him and bowing towards Chelsea.

  “Yes you do,” Chelsea said, giving the man a hug.

  Martin was surprised by their show of familiarity.

  They joined Graham, Huxley, and Constance.

  “Why’s he here?” Graham asked.

  Hidalgo poked Martin in the side. “Me, I be thinking he not coming to kill the rotten people.”

  “He’s not,” Martin answered.

  “Then him, why he be here?”

  Chelsea laughed.

  “He’ll be defending Harpsborough with his collectors in case of a counterattack.”

  Hidalgo’s beads rattled loudly as he nodded his head. “Yes. Graham, he be having a very important job.”

  Graham snorted.

  “It is important,” Martin turned towards Graham. “Katie will be back here. I love her, and Graham, I must tell you I feel safer with her in your hands—and that’s no joke.”

  Graham nodded solemnly.

  How come everyone in Mancini’s pocket looks so depressed all the time?

  “Constance, I asked you to come because I’ve been speaking with Michael. He says it’s okay for me to deputize you and your men. You all did such a good job when we were saving people from hunger that I knew I could count on you.”

  Constance grimaced. “You know my people follow me because they’re not happy with the way things are around here.”

  “I know it. They don’t like the way the Fore has been acting. But things are changing. You won’t say no now that the Fore’s giving in to your demands, will you?”