The only other beings that knew of his situation were the Undying and their gods.
Stanna looked at Niall and frowned. “Did I see what?”
“Not you.” He shook his head. “Lexx.”
Lexx looked at him and shook his head. Then he lied, “I’ve no notion of what you speak. You are grieving. You should take a moment.”
Niall mirrored the headshake. “How do you know about that? How could you know?”
Lexx urged his horse back a few steps, and Niall moved his horse closer. “You should calm yourself, young duke. Your grief has muddied your thoughts.” Lexx’s hand touched the hilt of his sword.
Things might have escalated, but the guard they’d been speaking to rode his horse between both of them, looking first at Lexx and then at Niall. “We’ve had enough bloodshed. Don’t draw a weapon. It will not go well for you.”
Stanna looked from Niall to Lexx and shook her head. “We leave now.”
“What?” Niall turned his head so fast he pulled a muscle and felt heat run through the side of his neck. “We just arrived.”
“Yes, and then the guards explained that the city is off limits. There’s nothing we can do. There are other towns nearby where we can find an inn until whatever this is washes away.”
Niall tried to find words and instead sputtered.
Lexx tilted his head and then shook it. “This will not get better until the right people are sacrificed.”
Stanna shook her head and spat. “I’ll not be the one to go after them. I’ve a mind to have good food and a damned bed.” She wheeled her massive horse around and headed back the way they’d come, to the closest crossroads. There were towns down that way and likely the slaver knew it. As she approached the others she called out and explained, and the rest turned to follow.
Niall stared for a long moment and then also followed. His head hurt. His heart hurt. His father was dead and likely his mother too, and there was nothing he could do about getting into Edinrun, not if any who entered were struck with madness. Even at his lowest moment, the notion of losing his mind was not something he found attractive.
“People keep choosing to avoid their responsibilities. We are all given duties by the gods.” Lexx was speaking and Niall suddenly found his voice very tiresome.
“I don’t wish to hear your philosophies, slaver.”
“Not philosophies. Facts. The gods demand sacrifices. The sacrifices were taken. A gathering of fools interfered. And the next sacrifices refused their fates.”
“What would you know about it?” His anger grew the longer the lean man spoke. Scarred, battered, but unbroken, the slaver looked at him and grinned.
“I was there. I saw what you did to the He-Kisshi. I saw how you and the little blonde girl ran. I have been promised retribution for all your sins.”
“Enough!” That headache was still there, pounding at his skull. His father was dead. His mother was dead. His family was either all dead or locked away. Mosara, the best master an apprentice could ever hope for, was also likely dead. He’d been inside the city, tending to the royal gardens. All of them were gone. His world wasn’t dying, it was already gone and this lowborn wretch wanted to mock him and make threats?
Lexx’s face twisted with hatred. “It is enough. Come for me, little worm. Learn from your mistakes. I tire of watching you breathe.”
Niall lifted his spear and jammed the heels of his boots into the horse’s sides.
In a perfect world he would have charged valiantly forward and driven the spear’s head into the bastard slaver’s face. Lexx would have let out a scream and he’d have died right there.
Instead, his horse bucked hard and threw Niall from his saddle. He managed to hold onto the spear right up until the ground knocked it from his arm and loosened two of his teeth in his jaw.
Lexx dropped from his horse and came for him, a sneer peeling his lips from his teeth and his sword held tight in one hand.
“Truly, the gods are kind.” The words were a harsh hiss. The sword’s tip swept in a half circle and came back around to point at Niall’s aching face.
For his part Niall was doing his best to move, but his body didn’t seem to understand the simplest commands. His eyes worked fine. He could see the bastard coming for him. But he could not seem to breathe at all, and his arms and legs remained tangled and bent at different angles. There. A finger moved. If he could just have a few minutes, he would have a chance to kill the slaver.
Of course, the slaver had different ideas. Lexx came closer, the heels of his boots clacking against the cobblestones of the road leading to Edinrun.
Niall’s anger swelled and he growled low in his chest, tried to force his limbs to move properly. They still refused.
“Come on then, you useless whoreson.”
Lexx didn’t seem to take offense at the title. Instead he moved closer and pulled back his blade just far enough to take proper aim. The tip would go right through Niall’s eyes. He could see the trajectory. That blade would punch through bone and the soft eyeballs and probably, hopefully, would kill him quickly. The notion of being blinded for life was terrifying. To never see who he was speaking to, to never look at a beautiful woman, or a perfect bloom again.
Really, the day had started out so well and now this.
The spear that took Lexx punched through the back of his head and came out through his eyes.
Not at all prepared for the sight, Niall let out a scream and moved backward, his traitorous limbs finally moving.
The guard he’d spoken to before was looking down at him from his horse’s saddle. He looked like a giant, especially since Niall was still on the ground, his head to the stones. He sat up as Lexx fell to his knees and then landed on his face a few inches from Niall. The eyes were gone. The bastard had suffered the exact fate he’d planned for Niall. Different method, same result.
His damn fool horse snorted and looked at him. He couldn’t tell for certain, but it seemed like the beast was trying to apologize. He’d have none of that foolishness.
Niall rolled over and sat up, his head swimming, his jaw aching. Stanna was riding back toward him with Tully on her tail, both of them riding hard. The guards moved into formation again, their helmets hiding most of their faces.
The guard who’d killed Lexx dismounted and moved to his spear, pulling it from the dead man’s skull.
“What happened here?” Stanna made no threatening moves, but instead asked her question as calmly as she could. She did not draw her weapon. She was not a fool.
Tully stared down at the dead slaver with wide eyes, but said nothing.
“The duke was thrown from his horse. This man,” the guard pointed to Lexx’s corpse, “was preparing to attack. I stopped him.”
“Indeed you did.” Stanna stayed on her horse and waited for Niall to get up. “Are you coming? We’ve a ways to go.”
Niall nodded and stood on slightly wobbly legs. The horse nuzzled him and rested its chin on his shoulder.
Niall sighed and petted the long face. “Yes. Let’s get away from here.” His voice sounded raspy and very nearly hollow.
Lexx’s body rose into the air. It did not stand. It did not try to stand. It simply rose into the air, mouth agape and long hair whipping in a frenzy. A sound came from it that was far too thunderous to be a human thing. The arms and legs flailed, the sword dropped and was left behind.
Niall’s horse did the only sensible thing, and bolted. The guards, Stanna, and Tully all had trouble controlling their animals. Niall had a moment where he thought he’d surely lose control of his bladder. And then Lexx’s body, which had risen to a height of nearly seven feet, flopped back to the ground.
There was a blur of motion above Lexx’s corpse, and that blur once again let out a peal like thunder and then rose into the air and soared to the west. Whatever it was, Niall could only see a distortion. Wherever it was going, he was grateful not to be heading in that direction.
The guard who’d killed Lexx
looked around and gripped his spear. After a moment he relaxed a bit and shook his head. “Did everyone see that?” Several people muttered their acknowledgment and he relaxed. “Then be grateful. I thought perhaps the madness was spreading.”
Niall had no answer to that.
Bron McNar
Bron McNar watched the dark clouds sweeping over the mountains. They carried with them a savage wind and a cold that bit deep, like a hound tearing at raw flesh.
The other kings watched with him. The Brundage Highway and the Brundage Cairns were swallowed by the coming storm. He could not see the actual event, but the clouds overtook where those landmarks to his kingdom rested.
Next to him Opar shook his head. “This is an ill omen.”
Parrish cleared his throat, reached for the wine and said, “This is a storm. A vast storm, to be sure, but it is a storm. Stoneheart is as sturdy as castle as I’ve ever seen, and the mountains will allow proper drainage; there will be no floods here. We will endure, provided our host does not send us away.”
Opar did not argue the point. Currently, at his request, Parrish was sending a small army to retake Edinrun. Parrish assured him that his Marked Men would not be affected by the madness and could, therefore, get him back his capital city. That left him with little will to debate the man who was his best chance at restoring his fortunes.
Bron chuckled as they watched the clouds rolling closer. They’d reached the edge of Journey End, the city he called home. Stoneheart was well past the walls and higher up, besides. The clouds obscured the Broken Swords, and the trees and plants whipped and swayed in the harsh winds.
“You’re all welcome here. Besides, we have business to discuss.”
“That we do.” Hillar Darkraven looked toward the clouds and scowled. “This will not abate. We have to find them. We have to work together. I don’t care much for glory. I’m too old to consider testing my strength against any of you. What we need is cooperation. Together we can offer a reward too sweet for any wretch to overlook.”
Jahda nodded his silent agreement, his dark eyes taking in every detail of the storm. “The Galeans tell me the madness has taken Edinrun. The city is sealed against any fools who would enter. If this is the anger of the gods, then we must act quickly to avoid any more cities being swept away. We have lost Saramond and now Edinrun. This cannot continue. There are other towns, of course, but we need to protect the cities. Hollum is preparing to abandon itself and move south. There is no choice; the floods are too great and the storms threaten to sink whole buildings into the mud.”
Pardume nodded his agreement and so did Opar.
“How do we stop this?”
“We find the bastards responsible.” Parrish spoke plainly. “And we consider who we might have to sacrifice to keep our lands safe.” Even as he spoke the winds slapped against the great castle and the clouds boiled past the heavy walls as if they did not exist.
“In all my life I never thought I might consider killing my own kin.” Pardume spoke softly. “I have lost thousands to this madness.”
Parrish spoke again, his voice as calm as still waters. “We have allowed this. We have accepted what the gods decreed and never once sought another way.”
“What other way? What else is there?” Hillar cast her eyes toward him and shook her head. “We’ve doubtless all heard stories about what you’ve done to keep your soldiers at their best. Would you have us ask your demons for help? Would they have that sort of power?”
Parrish stared out the window and was silent for a long while. When he spoke, Bron nearly jumped out of his own hide. “I cannot say. I only know what you know. Demons have roamed these lands before, as punishments from the gods. We have lost cities. We have lost kingdoms in the past, but that was demons acting as agents of the gods. Now the gods themselves are the ones attacking. How can anyone know what a demon can do in these times?”
It was Pardume who spoke again. “Can you ask them?”
Parrish did not turn to face them. His hands were behind his back, and while he looked serene, those hands clenched together with enough force to whiten fingers. “Do you know what demons have in common with gods?”
Pardume frowned. “No. What?”
“Like the gods, they always demand payment. Like the gods, that payment is normally in the form of lives.”
“We must consider all options, King Parrish.” Hillar’s voice was low and soft, choked with suppressed emotions. They all understood. The gods offered a delay if they sacrificed kin. If the demons could make a better offer, it had to be considered.
“I shall see what I can manage.” Parrish spoke softly and studied the storm.
The winds roared and the curtains that blocked the open windows left behind by the He-Kisshi rippled and spilled frigid air into the chamber.
For a while they were all silent. Like Bron, they had to carefully consider their options.
When the silence grew too much for him, Bron left the great hall and moved toward the kitchens. There was food to be prepared and he was fine with that, but he was hungry and wanted to see for himself what fruit might be available, or even just a piece of good, hard cheese.
Before he reached his destination, Ulster Dunally stepped to his side, moving so quietly that Bron very nearly felt his heart stop when he spoke. Ulster was the very finest of his soldiers, trusted above all else. He was, despite the lack of blood relations, a brother.
“Majesty.”
“Stop that shit. I’m dealing with enough of it already. Report to me. Have you caught the bastards?”
“No, Bron.” He shook his head and his voice was low with regret. “I met up with slavers instead. They killed most of the men. Would have killed me, for that matter, if I hadn’t been sick. Reeds took my place and died for his efforts.”
Bron scowled. Reeds was a good man. The men he’d sent were among his best. “Why did slavers come for you?”
“They didn’t. They came for Brogan McTyre, who seems to have offended the whole of the world.”
“What did the man do now?”
“Apparently he sold them false goods.” Ulster shook his head. “McTyre and his lot have a witch with them. A Galean, or trained by one. I came back for more men. I’ve lost too many to them and I need hounds.”
“You had hounds.”
Ulster shook his head. “I don’t want trackers. I have enough of those. I need war dogs.”
Bron stopped in his tracks. “The problem with war dogs is they’re trained to kill.”
“Ours are trained to listen, too. They can be made to stop before a death occurs.”
“You’re very confident of that, are you?”
“Worst case, I’ll kill the damned things before they can take a man’s life. But we’ve lost too many to Brogan McTyre. I would rather not lose any more men when we can sacrifice a few dogs.”
Bron nodded his head. “Have Red Lester gather them then. He’s the best chance you have of actually getting the damned things to listen.”
“Aye, Bron.”
“Don’t fail me, Ulster. I need this done the right way.”
“I’ll not fail you. I have too much need of getting payback on a few of the people with them that aren’t actually part of the problem.”
“You mean the witch?”
“That I do.”
“They say salt is good for witches. Take some from the larders and then get on your way. The clouds are here. The start of the storm is too.”
“I’ve been dreading it. The cold out there is already enough to scrub a man raw.”
Ulster made a half-hearted bow and moved on.
Now the catch was what to do about the rest of it. The storm was here. People would soon be coming for shelter, if they could manage to leave their homes.
The anger of gods was a strange thing. He could not stop it without Brogan McTyre, the man he’d freed. But he could delay it. All he had to do was burn one of his children.
To lose even one to the gods… mo
re than ever he understood why McTyre had defied the laws.
Niall Leraby
“What will you do?”
Tully spoke softly. She didn’t need to yell. That was Temmi. Temmi was always loud when she was happy. Currently she was heading in that direction, and nothing could have made Niall happier, but the girl couldn’t manage a whisper when she was cheerful and Tully knew Niall didn’t need screams any more than Temmi had when the Undying killed her family.
Niall looked her way. He was struck again by her looks. Her eyes, the way she studied everything around her as if her life depended on it.
Not that it mattered. She wasn’t interested in him.
“I’m not sure yet. I can’t go home.” He gestured toward Edinrun. “I hadn’t thought beyond the city.”
That was all he had to say. They had stopped only a short time after the fight. Stanna was still trying to work out why Lexx had gone mad. She couldn’t understand it. He was not a man who fought without provocation, according to her. Now, he was dead. There would be no more fights, to be sure.
Stanna had told them all that Lexx was healed after a long time being ill and suffering infection. Temmi suggested his mind was injured and never healed properly. It made enough sense. The problem was sorcery was involved. There were enough people who could cast spells and protective runes. Niall wanted nothing to do with them. Tully shared his sentiment and once said you couldn’t pick a pocket with a spell cast on it, not without having something horrible go wrong. As an experienced thief, she found that notion unsettling.
Niall paced and scratched at the back of his neck as if he had ticks. He didn’t. He’d been raised by his parents, not abandoned. He’d lived in the same place all his life and never had troubles. If all of Hollum burned or sank, he suspected Tully wouldn’t much care.
Tully’s eyes grew wide in her head and her pale skin grew paler.
Fallen Gods Page 9
