March till Death (Hellsong Book 3)

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March till Death (Hellsong Book 3) Page 8

by Shaun O. McCoy


  Then Chelsea stepped forward. She was dressed in a nightgown. Obviously she’d been sleeping when the commotion had occurred. “I’ll come with you,” she said.

  Thank you. I forget sometimes why we brought you into the Fore. Thank you.

  “You want a gun?” Michael asked her.

  She shrugged. “What good would it do me against her?”

  Probably none at all. But this motherfucker in my hands just might pierce an infidel’s armor.

  With Chelsea at his side, Michael exited the Fore. The villagers were all there, most of them gathered about the entrance. They were staring at him. Some of the ones nearest him were noticeably shaking. Worry was in their eyes. Fear.

  If I had been a better leader, my presence would have taken their fear away.

  “Move aside,” Michael ordered.

  Slowly, almost begrudgingly, the terrified villagers opened a path. Michael looked through the parting sea of humanity to the diminutive Infidel Friend that he had to face. Michael looked over to Chelsea for support.

  She smiled at him. “If we die right here, I want you to know that, for what it’s worth, I think you’ve been a better leader than Charlie.”

  “Thank you. I just wish that they’d come when we’d had more hunters around.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too convenient to be a coincidence. They must have someone on the inside. Someone spying on us.”

  Michael snorted. “Well that’s going to make me feel more comfortable while walking through this crowd.”

  It was a long walk. Michael stopped well short of El Cid, who stood a few feet in front of his two kneeling hunters. Her black hair was pulled back and bound up behind her head. A loose strand of it fell across her angular face and rested against the pale skin at her neck.

  I’ve never seen eyes so green.

  “Are you Michael Baker?” El Cid asked as he stopped.

  “I am.”

  “Good. Now you’re not cold blooded killers, so I know you won’t let your men die. And we’re not cold blooded killers, either, so we’re not going to kill them. I say we stop pretending.” El Cid turned her back on him and spoke to the other infidels. “Let them go.”

  His hunters were dragged to their feet and shoved into the crowd. The crowd accepted them with protective arms.

  “More comfortable?” El Cid asked.

  Not at all.

  “I’ve always been comfortable,” Michael lied. “I could have you shot down right now. I have snipers up on the Fore.”

  El Cid gave a laugh that sounded like a little girl’s. “They’d better not miss. Besides, you know what happened to Hellespont.”

  Fear erupted throughout Michael’s body, spreading out from his belly and settling in the small of his back. Father Klein had spoken of that city. The infidels had come and slain them, to a man. To hear Klein tell it, there had only been three infidels.

  “As you said, I’m not a cold blooded killer.” Mike sneered. “But since you mention Hellespont, we know you are.”

  El Cid stepped closer to him. Michael felt a visceral reaction to her nearness and stepped back. He could not believe he was so terrified of someone so tiny.

  She’s an Infidel Friend. You should be scared of her. She’s got a ton of heartless bastards ready to kill on her command.

  “War and murder are different things,” El Cid said. “One of ours was murdered in Hellespont. The village’s destruction was an act of war. Surely you know the difference. My scouts say that you had a war just a while ago against a pack of lepers. You killed them because they murdered some of yours, did you not?”

  How does she know these things?

  “Why have you come?” Michael demanded.

  “First, I’d like to commend your mercy. My understanding is that instead of killing one of our people for a crime they didn’t commit, you exiled him.”

  Oh, somehow I knew that was going to come back and bite me in the ass.

  There was some movement to Michael’s right and Father Klein burst in from the crowd.

  I knew I had a few friends worth a damn.

  “I assure you, woman,” the Father said, “he was most certainly guilty of his crimes.”

  El Cid gave Klein a patronizing smile. “Let me guess, was it blasphemy?”

  Klein nodded. “It was.”

  “My apologies, Father,” El Cid said, her smile sharpening, “but being a God damned idiot will not spare you from infidel justice.”

  Father Klein rose up and shouted. “Speak your words, infidel, but this is a Godly town. You will not speak His name in vain!”

  She looked at him slyly. “Still can’t read Hebrew?”

  “I can.”

  “Then you should know that taking the Lord’s name in vain refers to Yahweh’s true name, which tradition dictates is a sin to speak. Surely you can see my trepidation in trusting you when the thing you worship is known as ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named.’”

  Father Klein took a step closer, leaving the half circle of villagers behind him. “You have the devil in your hearts. I know what the scriptures mean because I have God in mine.”

  “If God is in the heart of the body you think the devil gave you, you are in some serious shit.”

  “You twist my words.”

  El Cid raised one eyebrow.

  Father Klein would not relent. “This body is God’s body, not the Devil’s.”

  “Let me offer you peace, then, man who would be of God. I know Maab took your genitals. I know she used a method that made them not grow back. The condition is not irreversible. I can make you whole. Will you accept?”

  Father Klein sneered. “I’m a better man for their loss. I’d not be swayed again by temptation.”

  The crowd groaned suddenly. They had not known. Michael’s jaw dropped. He had not expected Klein to admit his infirmity.

  Such a brave man.

  “Well I suppose that’s for the best,” El Cid said, “I preffer my cowards dickless.”

  Father Klein’s jaw clenched. “You come offering peace, you say? You come offering to enable my own temptation. You come trying to give back to me what the devil can use to warp my will. You come offering only damnation. Do not think your motivations are anything other than transparent to these people.”

  There was a murmur of fiery agreement from the crowd.

  Good, let them see their leaders resist the infidels. Let them feel empowered by our strength.

  “Why have you come?” Michael demanded.

  El Cid turned her brilliant green eyes back towards him. “The ‘mercy’ you showed my man was . . . admirable for people of your backward understanding. I commend you for it. Know that in the future you are to release the Infidel Friend you nurse back to health. If you are unable to do this, then simply do not attempt to aid them.”

  “And if I don’t agree?” Michael asked.

  “Then my helmet goes back on.”

  “Very well,” Michael said. “We will not exile your people through the Golden Door, but we will exile them from Harpsborough. That includes you.”

  “No!” Klein shouted. “We cannot do this, Michael. Every Infidel Friend we leave alive allows them to spread their code. Spread their ideas. They infect souls, Mike.”

  Michael put a hand over his eyes for a moment. “I know what you mean, Klein. I agree with you, I really do. But we’re all damned. I’m not going to turn my back on my morals Father, but I’m not going to put Harpsborough at war for something that doesn’t change anything.”

  Klein grabbed Michael firmly by the shoulder. “They change everything, Mike, this is our people’s last chance.”

  “I’m sorry, Father. I can’t let what happened to Hellespont happen here.”

  “If you cave on this, they’ll know they can make you do anything.”

  Michael looked to El Cid. She reminded him of Cris. She reminded him a lot of Cris.

  “I’ve made the concession,” he told El Cid. “I’m sticking to it.”
/>   El Cid nodded. “Agreed. That should fix any future transgressions, but you still need to make amends for your first one. Our man, Cris, was sent through the Golden Door. These doors were used by the ancients to block off safe passageways for their runners to bring messages between towns. Now that the ancients have fallen, many of these doors lead nowhere . . . or worse, to places held by Archdevils.”

  “He deserves that fate,” Klein said.

  “For washing up on your riverbank?” El Cid asked.

  “For being one of you. For being a member of a group that would massacre a helpless village. For being a ruthless killer no less evil than Maab.”

  El Cid’s fake pleasant demeanor dropped away. “You speak of events in ways they did not happen because of what Maab did to you. That’s where your anger lies, fool. I’ve offered in reality to repair the damage she’s left you, and you’ve turned it down because of a fiction you maintain in your own mind to protect you from that same damage. That fiction is killing you, Klein. It’s poisoning you and this entire village with it.”

  It was Klein’s turn to smile. Michael could not understand what fortitude the man must have to turn down such an offer because it was the right thing to do.

  “You are poison,” Klein said.

  “Let me help you,” El Cid offered. “No payment required. No strings. Let me do what good I can.”

  For a moment Father Klein looked down.

  Are you right, Klein? Are you being tempted by the Devil right now? Has Satan wormed his way so deeply into these infidel hearts that he’s able to use them to get to you?

  Father Klein’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a better man this way,” he said around clenched teeth.

  Michael nodded, pride swelling in his heart. They needed to make a stand, to show these infidels that Harpsborough wasn’t going to be pushed around, no matter what had happened to Hellespont.

  El Cid shrugged and Michael felt her attention as it rested back on him.

  “You were saying?” Michael asked politely.

  “We need the ability to save our man. Or if he’s dead already, the chance to prevent his body from becoming a corpse.”

  Michael Baker nodded his head. “That you may do. I’ll have one of my men show you the Golden Door. We’ll even show you the walls around it so you can try and find a way in.”

  El Cid pursed her lips. “I meant that you would open the door.”

  “Don’t give in to her,” Klein said. “We don’t know what terrors lie beyond that door, but if they have a key, they might well leave it open. I know these infidels. They would kill us if we threaten their people, but they won’t kill us to save themselves a long walk—even if it is through the Carrion.”

  “He’s right,” El Cid said. “I’ll not slaughter your people because you won’t open a door, but a man’s life is on the line here. You never even have to give us the key, just open the door for us. And Cris’ work was important. Many more depend on him. Even you. Have you not been in famine lately?”

  Michael raised his chin. “I will not be fooled into thinking that you infidels can control the comings and goings of devils. I will not let you through that door.”

  “I thought throwing infidels through the Golden Door was kind of your thing?” her faux-pleasant demeanor returned.

  “Surrender your weapons and throw yourself at the mercy of the Citizen Court, and I’ll see what I can do,” Michael quipped right back.

  Mancini would be proud of that one.

  El Cid shrugged. “Very well. You have made the concession we seek.”

  “We’d ask a concession of you as well,” Michael said, his words stopping her as she turned around.

  “Oh?”

  “Come to our church. Listen to Klein. Try walking in the way of God. You all could do so much good if you were only fighting for the right things.”

  El Cid gave a rueful smile. “We fight for humanity, all of it, and that includes you. The fact that you oppose us should give you a hint as to where your self-destructive impulses lie,” she turned to her soldiers. “Move out.”

  El Cid watched her men exit Harpsborough. She paused in the entryway, and turned back, looking over her shoulder at Michael. “We’ll be in the hungerleaf copse that your people have stripped. We’ll be there for the next couple of days to keep as many of the trees from dying as we can. If you change your mind, bring the key to us, and we’ll see that it’s returned.”

  “There’s no chance of that,” Michael answered.

  “I’ll tell Cris you said so.”

  Arturus had chosen a larger room with two stone bedlike blocks. He made sure it was close to the passage Galen had ordered him to retreat through—just in case.

  Kelly leaned against one side of the small doorway. “This where you’re going to bunk up?”

  Arturus sighed and nodded.

  “A chance for rest, Turi. You should be happy.”

  Arturus nodded again, even more glumly. “The Minotaur will find us, I know it.”

  “Why do you think that?” she asked.

  Arturus was looking towards the back of the room, but he heard her as she came closer to him. “Because that’s how things have been going. Every time we think we’re going to get a chance to go home we end up going deeper in. It just figures that we’ll run right into the City of Blood and Stone.”

  She walked past him and sat on one of the stone bunks. “Well, if we run, we don’t have to go that way.”

  “We do, actually,” Arturus said. “Galen showed me a secret escape. He ordered me to take you with me down a corridor which will lead into the City, if the devils come.”

  “Why did he want you to take me?” Kelly asked.

  “Because I told him . . .” He looked at her.

  Because I told him that I love you.

  Kelly was supernaturally beautiful in the dim light. Her tattered robe fell around her slender shoulders, open in the front. Her black hair made her inviting ivory colored skin stand out. Her cruel cheekbones and sharp features drew him to her.

  He sat down beside her on the cold stone bunk. “I told him we’d been kissing,” Arturus lied.

  She scooted back across the bed until she was leaning against the chamber’s wall. “Well I’ll tell you something, Turi, One Horn will not come. He can’t pick up our trail at the source because of the Furies. Galen brought us along the halls of the City of Blood and Stone. The Minotaur won’t think to come here, and even if he did, our trail will be crisscrossed with hundreds of other groups of men and devils. Your father made a terrible gamble, but it paid off. So this is what’s going to happen. Your father is going to rescue Tamara. Your father is going to return. Your father is going to lead us back to your home . . . so you can be reunited with whatever little girlfriend you’ve got back there . . .”

  Arturus shook his head. “I don’t have anyone waiting for me back home. Except for Rick, of course. Not a girl, I mean.”

  Her cruel lips formed a soft smile. “Do you think I could live where you live, Turi? Would the people accept me there? Or would they be like Avery?”

  I have no idea.

  “They’d accept you,” he said. “I’d make them.”

  She slid her legs under herself so she that was kneeling next to him on the bed. “Say it again, Turi. Say it like we’re going to make it.”

  “They’ll accept you. I’ll make them.”

  She reached out her hands. Arturus took them in his own.

  She drew him close so she could whisper down into his ear. “It’s not fair.” Her nearness was causing Arturus’ heart to beat faster. “It’s not fair that you had to be given to Calimay’s daughters as part of a deal. You and I, we were supposed to do that.”

  Arturus swallowed. “I don’t care for them.”

  “I know,” her whisper continued. “It’s not the same when two people don’t care about each other. Don’t love each other. I know that better than anyone else, believe me. Turi, I’m being torn up inside. I feel so angr
y at them. How dare they take you? You’re mine.”

  Arturus’ blood was pumping. He didn’t know what was happening to him. He felt his body responding to Kelly in the same way it had to Maab. Was there some magic about this woman? He drew back and looked into her eyes, her dangerous eyes.

  He was new to this. His emotions were an uncontrollable flood. First he’d loved Alice, then Maab, and now her. Kelly’s blue eyes looked like black pools in the dim light. This woman was seducing him. This woman knew what she was doing. This woman was certainly not in love. She was using him, manipulating him, bending him to her will so that . . .

  “I need you, Turi,” her words interrupted his thoughts. “And I need to tell you why. I was someone different in the old world. I didn’t enslave men and torture them. Watching your father work, well, I think maybe our way isn’t the only way. Maybe men don’t have to be slaves. Maybe their mindsets don’t bring about ruin. Everyone needs a second chance, Turi. I didn’t lead the life I wanted to before I died.

  “I wanted to get married, but . . . well . . . that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you are pure, Turi. You are innocent. You really care for people. You really love people. You could really love me. And I want that. I want you to love me because then I can love you back. Then I can admit to you the way you make me feel. Please make them accept me in your home, Turi. Let us find something here, in Hell, that . . . I’ve said too much.”

  Maybe I’ve misjudged her.

  Galen always said that people could be redeemed. There was nothing Galen loved more than humanity.

  But Galen had also warned him about women. Rick didn’t agree with that, though. Of course Kelly would want something different than what Maab’s people had offered her. She wanted to be loved, didn’t everybody? She must now know that the slaves who’d given her attention before didn’t love her, couldn’t love her, because she held them in thrall. This would be different for her. This would be a chance for her to really feel loved. And even if there was some part of her hedging her bets, using him, wouldn’t it fade?

  “I’ve scared you off,” she was saying.

  “No,” Arturus told her. “No you haven’t.”

 

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