Curse: The Dark God Book 2

by John D. Brown

  Despite his name-sake appearance, Scruff was a stellar animal, one of the few horses being made into a firesteed. Talen walked over to the smithy. Scruff nickered at him for a scratch, but Talen wasn’t going anywhere close to another living thing. He skirted around and looked in the doors. Two farriers stood at the fire forming horseshoes. He asked where Ke was, and they directed him to the great hall.

  Like all of the buildings in the inner fortress, the great hall was built snug against the inside wall. It was a large building with a high ceiling and four hearths big enough for men to stand in them. When Talen entered the hall, he found two of the long tables laden with leftover food from last night’s festivities. Twenty or thirty people milled about, eating. Ke was among them, standing next to one of the tables.

  Talen made his way over. Ke looked up, chewing some morsel with delight. “You’re a little black thunder cloud.”

  “We’ve got to talk,” Talen said.

  Ke, the big bull, shooed a few flies away and picked up a pie, a small thing no bigger than a plum. He held it out to Talen. “Try this. It will make you feel better.”

  Talen didn’t want to eat, but he accepted it and took a bite and immediately regretted it. It was a nasty little wad of leek with a few miserly grains of unidentifiable meat hiding in the corners. “Who brought these?”

  “The rat catchers from Lind,” Ke said. He picked up another and plopped the whole thing in his mouth. He chewed, let out a sigh of satisfaction, then picked up another.

  Talen shook his head—there was no accounting for taste.

  Ke’s hair was cropped short. He wore a rust cloak. The gash on his face from the battle down in the bowels of the ancient stone-wight warren had healed. The stitching made from sheep guts had been removed weeks ago, but a scar from the gash and suture holes remained. Scars remained on everyone that had been there, and not all of them were visible like Ke’s. Or as lauded. He looked like he had some brutish pin cushion for a head, yet that seemed to attract quite a number of the women.

  A small black and white dog sat very politely by the table. He looked up at Talen and wagged his tail.

  Talen tossed him the remainder of his leek wad and turned back to Ke. “Something’s wrong.”

  Ke folded his muscular arms.

  Talen motioned for Ke to step to the side, away from the others in the hall. Then he related the events as he knew them, including Felts’s betrayal. Ke shook his head when he heard about Rooster and Shroud. He rubbed his face. “Felts won’t be the last to turn traitor.”

  Talen said, “The next one might be me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lust,” Talen said.

  Ke looked down at him. “What?”

  “It’s overrated. I can tell you that. Maybe the Divines are speaking a little bit of truth about becoming sleth. My passions are running amok. Goats and horses. Black Knee.”

  Ke looked at Talen as if he’d sprouted another head.

  “It’s not natural,” said Talen. “And don’t look at me that way.”

  “Brother, you’re a strange little man. If I were going to go that way, it wouldn’t be with Black Knee. He’s as ugly as they come.”

  “No,” said Talen. “It’s the Fire. I can feel it in every touch. It isn’t normal lust. It can’t be.” There was no blood-thumping glamour in it. He knew what it was to desire someone physically, and this was different. “Here,” he said and grasped Ke’s big hand. His hunger surged. “There, do you feel that?”

  “I feel nothing.”

  “Exactly. You feel nothing. But I feel an appetite. I can smell your soul like I can that ham roasting over the fire. It doesn’t matter who or, apparently, what it is. I just finished milking goats, and the whole time it was there, looping about me like the smell of freshly baked bread. I’m not right.”

  “Well, that’s not news,” Ke said. “You’ve never been right.”

  “Ke,” he said, exasperated.

  River entered the hall. She spotted them and walked over. “What are you two stewing?” she asked.

  Ke shrugged. “Our brother here fancies Black Knee.”

  Talen groaned. This wasn’t funny. “Something’s off inside of me,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I can feel the Fire in those I touch. And I want it. It calls to me. I’m telling you: I don’t think the monster put all my pieces back correctly.”

  River considered him. “It’s not uncommon to go through a period of confusion, although that usually occurs when you go from candidate to full dreadman. I told you the awakening triggers a second change in the body, not unlike the change from boy to man. Your body becomes different. You feel different things. We all go through it. That’s probably all this is. You’ll just have to ride it out.”

  “You say that, but did you feel this when you awakened?” he asked. “Do you know anyone who has?”

  “I remember when I was first awakened,” said Ke. “For me it was euphoria followed by moods as black as the underside of night. One day Da found me in a corner of the barn loft. I had just learned to diminish, to slow the rate of my Fire until I was barely breathing. It’s a very hard thing to do, but can sometimes save your life. Imagine being trapped under water. You can diminish yourself to the point where you almost don’t need breath anymore. So I should have been celebrating my accomplishment, but there was no joy in me. I wanted only to be smudged out, forever. Once in a while the darkness still comes, but I’ve grown past it.”

  “You’re telling me it doesn’t go away?”

  Ke said, “I’m telling you that when the wild patterns fall into place, brother, you’ll never want to go back. It’s like trying to learn how to swim and you’re forever struggling and choking. And then one day you finally relax, and you’re suddenly diving down to the emerald weeds in the pool below the falls like an otter.”

  “For all we know,” River said, “this is right as rain.”

  “And what was your trial?” Talen asked River.

  “Trial?” Ke said in disgust. “I think she suffered a burp and a bit of indigestion. It always comes easy for her.”

  “Oh, it does not. Look, the storm will come, and then it will pass.”

  “We hope,” Ke said.

  “And if not?” Talen asked. He’d been changed, guided by the Devourer herself from conception to fit her terrible plans. His own mother had tried to fix the changes, but had died trying. Nobody had any idea of what he was or what he would become.

  “We roll with it,” said Ke. He put his strong hand on Talen’s shoulder. Talen flinched at the delicious smell of his soul, but Ke’s eyes bore into him. “I know you’re a little disoriented. That comes with the territory.” He motioned at River with his chin. “Trust us. Nothing’s going to happen to you. And if it does, we’ll be there.”

  “Right,” Talen said.

  “And if you turn into something abominable, well, we’ll get it over quick. Cut your head off just to be sure the job’s done right.”

  River gave him a look.

  “He knows I’m joking,” Ke grinned, “mostly.”

  Mostly was right. River herself had tried to kill him down in the caves. He had no doubt, if it came to it, that both of them were prepared to try it again.

  Ke elbowed him. “Come on, smile. Life’s meant to be lived. Even when the seas get high.” He pointed at some boiled crawfish a good five inches long. “There’s some living right there.” He picked one up and cracked it open with his thumb and forefinger, exposing the red-tinged flesh inside. He sucked a bit of meat out. “Lovely,” he said and chewed. “Have one.”

  Talen sighed.

  “Fill your belly,” Ke said. “And I’ll tell you what I found today. Because dreadmen and goaty lust aren’t the only odd things to show up in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “It wasn’t goat lust,” Talen said.


  Ke waved the comment off. He pointed at a small pie filled with cheese, onion, and mushroom. “Eat that.”

  Talen picked one of the pies up. He took a bite. It didn’t help.

  Ke said, “We had a report this morning of something in the Sourwood River. It came sniffing about the hot pool. We went to investigate.”

  The Sourwood was the river that ran next to Rogum’s Defense. A hot spring ran down the bank at a bend in the river, and a pool had been at the confluence. It was a favorite spot for Shim’s dreadmen to relax. “And?” Talen prompted him.

  “Two miles up we saw it. A massive shadow under the water. It was huge, thirty or forty feet long at least. And it was a good thing the men in the pool had gotten out. It certainly had the other fish spooked. The carp sprang in bunches into the air, trying to get out of its path.”

  “A whale?”

  “None that we see around here. And when have you ever heard of a whale coming up the Sourwood or even the Lion and scaring the fish?”

  “Never,” said River.

  “We followed it for a mile or so,” Ke continued, “and then it was gone.”

  “Back to the bay?” asked River.

  “Or down so deep in the river we couldn’t see it.”

  “So much for the pools,” Talen said. He’d actually been thinking about going to take a dip.

  “Wurms have been sighted at the borders of the land as well,” said River.

  “So we have our hands full of things to worry about,” Ke said. He turned to Talen. “Hold your course. It will pass. And now I need to report to Uncle.”

  Ke picked up a sweet apple tart from Bain, and then he and River left.

  “Talen,” Black Knee called and motioned for him to come over. The man was sitting over by the barracks on a chair with his wounded and bandaged leg propped up on a barrel. The wives of Rooster and Shroud sat with him.

  Talen walked over to them. Black Knee had sawn off his beard and hair to mourn the loss of those two good men. Big clumps of hair still lay on the ground about him. Both women’s eyes were red. Talen loosened the purse at his waist. It contained dice and a small bit of money. He removed the money and, as was customary for a fist mate, shared it between them. “It’s not much,” he said. “But it’s what I have.” They accepted the money. Black Knee asked Talen to relate his tale from that night, and Talen did. When he finished, they talked about Rooster and Shroud and their children. Talen knew what it was to lose a parent. Eventually the conversation wound down, and the two women left.

  When they were gone, Black Knee said, “I have no doubt the ancestors came to collect those two. They were good men from good lines.”

  “And Felts?” Talen asked.

  Black Knee shook his head. “That one I can’t explain. Half of me hopes some fright or howler shreds his soul. The other half hopes he makes it. I don’t know what turned him.”

  “Does it matter?”

  Black Knee shrugged.

  “Sugar isn’t back yet,” said Talen.

  “She carried me out of danger. You know that, don’t you?”

  Talen nodded.

  “She’s not your everyday girl, that one.”

  “No,” Talen agreed.

  “From here on out, I’m going to be looking out for her. And I won’t be standing for any louts.” He gave Talen a look meant to include him.

  “I don’t think Sugar is susceptible to louts. Of course, if any suitable men find out you’re involved, it just might turn them off.”

  “I’ll show you turned off,” Black Knee threatened.

  “Except you’d have to catch me first. A highly improbable proposition.”

  Black Knee lunged forward in his seat, but Talen danced back.

  “Get back here, you runty thing,” Black Knee said. “Let’s try that again.”

  “I think I like my current position.”

  “Oh,” Black Knee said. “The young lad shows signs of intelligence. I’ll tally one in your favor.”

  “Splendid,” Talen said, but a fat lot of good it would do if she didn’t come back.

  “Don’t be fretting about her. She outran the Fir-Noy once. She’ll do it again.”

  “I earnestly hope so.”

  “She will,” Black Knee said. “Mark my words.”

  * * *

  About fifteen minutes later Talen was out with the other eight members of his fist unloading a cartful of firewood in the outer bailey, when Sugar came riding through the gate with that foreign sleth Urban, him with his fine clothes and glittering eyes. Two of his crew rode behind with three children up on their horses with them.

  Talen dropped his wood on the pile and ran to meet them. Legs beat him to her. Despite his blindness, the boy could move quickly when he knew an area.

  Sugar lighted off her horse to embrace her brother. Legs clung to her tightly.

  “Took you long enough,” Talen said, coming up from behind.

  Sugar turned. “Well, if you hadn’t shoved me, I could have gone with you and River.”

  He gripped her shoulder. He wanted to embrace her, but the maddening smell of her soul called out to him, and he quickly turned and took the reins of her horse. Urban dismounted. His one eye was puffed up and dark with bruising.

  “You ran into trouble then?” Talen asked.

  “I ran into her elbow,” Urban said. “Or rather, it ran into me.”

  Talen looked at her questioningly.

  Sugar said, “I thought he was one of the Famished.”

  “The Famished?”

  “He grabbed my knife hand. I was half out of my mind with thirst and hunger.”

  “Lucky for me she wasn’t full strength,” Urban said with a smile.

  “She’s a bruiser for sure,” said Talen. “Always pummeling the candidates with her fists.”

  “You think she’d look worse for the wear,” Urban said.

  “Not when I fight slow boys like you.”

  Talen laughed.

  “Thanks for finding her,” Legs said.

  “Oh, it was our pleasure,” said Urban. “In fact, you might say it’s our specialty, finding lost and abandoned things.”

  They began to walk toward the inner bailey. As they did, Sugar reached out and squeezed Talen’s hand. It startled him.

  “Thanks for what you did back in Plum,” she said.

  The scent of her Fire and soul, her attractive eyes, they all disoriented him a bit. “What are you talking about?”

  “Drawing their attention.”

  “Drawing their attention?”

  “The insults and loud shouting.”

  “Ah,” Talen said, and realized he had done that. He took on a feigned noble air. “I was rather heroic, wasn’t I? I don’t suppose your dainty-nosed weaver would have thought of that.”

  Sugar groaned, rolled her eyes, and tossed his hand.

  Despite his hunger, he wanted to grab it back again. “Who knew my mouth could prove to be so useful.”

  “The weapon of kings,” Legs said.

  The oldest child with Urban rubbed his eye. His tattoo proclaimed him a Fir-Noy. “Who are these?” Talen asked.

  “We found the children and Sugar in Redthorn,” Urban said.

  “Redthorn? That’s not the most direct route out of Fir-Noy lands.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of direct,” Sugar said. “I was thinking of not dying.”

  “But why bring them?” Talen asked.

  “It was awful,” she said. “The village was slaughtered. Talen, some great evil is abroad. We need to find Argoth and Shim.”

  They hurried into the inner bailey and gave their horses to grooms to take to the stables. Then Talen hurried with Sugar and Urban to Shim’s quarters. On the way, Black Knee saw her and rose up on a crutch. He tried t
o hobble over, but Sugar ran to him instead and gave him a hug. “You didn’t play the fool after all,” she said. “I’m so happy you avoided yourself a curse.”

  “Aye,” said Black Knee. “I didn’t dare disobey.” He grimaced from the pain in his leg and sat back down. “I’m going to be wanting to hear your tale,” he said.

  “You’ll have the long version,” Sugar promised.

  Then Sugar went into Shim’s clerk and had him call the lord. A little while later, Talen, Ke, River, Argoth, Shim, and the Creek Widow all assembled in Shim’s chamber.

  12

  Plan of War

  ARGOTH LISTENED to Sugar and Urban make their reports. When they finished, Argoth knelt down in front of the children and took the girl’s hand. “I have a daughter about your age. What are you? Five years old?”

  The girl nodded.

  “She’s four,” the oldest boy corrected.

  Argoth looked at them. “I need you to tell me everything. We need to stop whoever did this. Maybe you saw something that can help us.”

  “You’re Shoka,” the oldest boy said.

  “You’re right. The Fir-Noy and Shoka are angry with each other. But we’re all still Mokaddians, aren’t we?”

  “We want to go to our Uncle’s,” he said.

  “We’ll take you back, I promise. But I need you to tell me what happened. I need you to start from the beginning and not leave out any details. Will you do that?”

  The boy nodded.

  Then he told the story. The whole village as well as some neighbors had turned out for the Apple Dance festivities. It had been a celebration like all the others that had been held with dance and food and laughter. But just at dusk that all changed. The heart of the cherry orchard had turned black. Nobody had noticed until the pained cry of a hound drew their attention. They thought the darkness was a trick of the evening shadows, so a man went into the orchard, calling for his dog. He disappeared into the blackness and never came out.

  They were about to send more men in when long ragged arms of black vapor began to stretch out between the trees and down the rows. The arms of vapor reached out to the grassy spot where the villagers were celebrating. Snakes of it curled up and around people’s limbs. At first nothing happened, and then one of the old farmers cried out and fell. The whole village turned to run, but it was too late. The mists attacked them.