Fallen Gods

by James A. Moore

“Hide!”

  Tully swatted Niall on his arm and started moving. There was a copse of trees not far away that might do the trick.

  “What?”

  Tully pointed to the sky and despite the growing clouds, he saw them. The He-Kisshi were coming. They’d discussed this before; both she and Niall were sacrifices. They’d escaped. There was a chance the Undying would come for them. No one understood how the nasty things tracked their sacrifices in the first place – the gods alone knew – but if they were after the two of them, they’d hide and try to spare the others the conflict. Niall moved toward the closest trees. If they were that far up, perhaps they would not see their escapees.

  They needn’t have wasted their efforts. The great winged shapes, six in all, moved toward Edinrun instead.

  And Niall? Fool that he was, he moved after them.

  “Where in all the hells are you going?” Tully’s voice held a loud note of surprise.

  “If they are lifting the curse I have to know.”

  “Well, why in the name of all the kings would they do that?”

  “If they found the people that started this, the worst may be over.”

  He was hoping. Tully frowned. He was actually smiling.

  “Niall, the rains are still coming. The gods haven’t changed their minds.” Lightning cut across the northern horizon, lit the clouds with white fire and showed shapes that might also be clouds or something far worse. Whatever the case, Tully had no intention of waiting around to find out for certain.

  “But they might have, Tully. I have to know!”

  Her expression said she thought him mad. But she was too, apparently, as she followed.

  They didn’t have far to travel. Stanna called after them but Temmi waved her to silence. A moment later they followed. Not the whole lot, thankfully, just Temmi and her pet giantess.

  As they looked on with Niall, the Undying dropped from the skies and landed three to each side of the massive stone wall around the city. There were two doors, one north, and one south, according to Niall. Three of the cloaked demons settled near the northern gates and waited as the same guards approached them.

  Fair to say the guards looked less confident this time around.

  Tully and Niall stayed exactly where they were. Temmi joined them and Stanna looked ready to go closer. Temmi stopped her with a shake of her head and a frightened look. She was a fighter, Temmi, but she was also wise enough to know how deadly even one of the Undying was. It was only the one that had wounded and then killed her family, after all.

  Stanna said, “I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

  “Then shut it so I can. I’ll tell you.” Temmi looked at the other woman and scowled. Most men talking to Stanna that way would have likely had their faces shattered by her fist at the very least. With Temmi she stared hard, but finally nodded.

  Temmi listened.

  Finally she said, “The Undying want the gates taken down. They say the Tribulation is meant to spread.”

  Whatever the guards might have been saying was a waste of breath. One of the He-Kisshi stepped toward the closest log, a fifteen foot-long tree as thick as a horse’s belly, and heaved it aside. The felled oak bounced and rolled several times, taking large divots of turf with each landing.

  One of the guards reached for his spear, but the commander of the watch stopped him and motioned the rest out of the way. It wasn’t cowardice. Niall knew that. The Undying were the Voice of the Gods. Every town, every city, every country had laws that said they must be obeyed.

  It took seconds for the Undying to remove several hours of work. There was no doubt those braces required horses to move, a dozen men to lift, and that was after they’d been cut down.

  While one cast aside the obstructions, another pulled the gates to Edinrun open and stepped aside. The massive doors shuddered and slowly gave up their secrets. Niall stared, a dread filling him that rivaled when the He-Kisshi came for him in the woods.

  Niall wasn’t sure what to expect. Bodies stacked as high as the eye could see, perhaps. He’d heard stories of the plague that almost ruined Hollum a dozen years back. Thousands of bodies had been stacked along the walls and then burned in pits dug along the roads leading to the city. Tully’d seen the massive pyres, had smelled the burning meat. The taste of that smoke in her mouth was a memory she would never get away from and the source of several of her worst nightmares, from what she’d told him.

  What he saw in Edinrun were roads leading into the city beyond the gates. There were no bodies. There was no sign from where they were that anything was wrong. That actually worried him more than anything else.

  The Undying that had done nothing else pointed to the leader of the guards and spoke again. This time his words were loud enough for everyone to hear. “You are forbidden from stopping any from entering or leaving. You did not know before, but you do now. Should you try, your death will not be swift.”

  The guard dropped his spear, removed his helmet and backed away, ordering his men to do the same.

  The He-Kisshi seemed pleased. They stayed for several minutes looking over the area, long enough to make Tully very nervous about whether they planned on hunting down runaways, and then moved into the town. Whatever the problem in the city, they apparently were not worried about it.

  “Well. There it is. You can enter if you’d like.” Stanna spoke clearly. “Myself? I think not.”

  Niall stared at the open gates for several moments, his eyes unblinking, his teeth clenched and grinding.

  “No. I think not. There are other places we can be. We should find one of them.”

  Stanna nodded her head and moved back toward the horses.

  Temmi followed behind her.

  Tully shook her head and pulled at his sleeve. “Come on then. We need to be away from here. Before they come back out and decide they need something new to play with.”

  That got him moving.

  As they started away they could hear the first noises from within the great walls that surrounded Edinrun. It could have been screams. It could have been laughter. Either way, it chilled Niall’s blood.

  Before they’d reached their horses the city guards came toward them on horseback. They had gathered their spears and their helmets and they looked plenty eager to be elsewhere.

  “Bit of advice. Take to your horses and ride. What comes out of there is nothing you want to encounter.”

  “How do you mean?” Niall looked his way with a frown on his face.

  “Whatever is still in there and moving is what’s been killing everything else in the city, Duke Leraby. I’ve seen mad dogs with less desire for violence.” Without another word the group rode on. They looked back several times.

  Stanna spat. “Mount up! We ride!” She looked to Niall. “Sorry for your troubles, but we’re not here to save anyone. We’re moving on. You can come with. You can stay.”

  Niall nodded. “I’ll come with.”

  Tully nodded too. Staying would have seen him dead. Of that she had no doubt.

  They rode to the west and then to the south. There were plenty of smaller towns where they could stay, and anything that got them away from the approaching storms was a benefit.

  If they had to, they’d ride all the way to Kaer-ru and beyond. There were other places where they could be.

  Interlude: Theryn

  The rains did not stop. They grew worse, if that was possible, until the streets of Hollum began to flood. That shouldn’t have been possible. The rivers had been low for months, and even to reach boats had required a ladder down to below the depths where the water should have been. It was the dry season. It was expected. So having the waters rise by almost ten feet was not a blessing. It was a curse. There were some boats, to be sure, but the rivers kept climbing and the waters grew more violent. Most of the small vessels would be sunk if they tried to ride the storm out.

  The city elders fretted and fussed and tried to decide what should be done. The Union of Thieves took acti
on instead. If it was something of value, it was collected. Sometimes taken by force, sometimes stolen in the night. Whatever the case, the Union claimed it.

  Every boat that could float on water was seized. Only the foolish protested. The Union was strong, had always been strong, and as they were taking care of the important people in the city, they had numbers beyond their usual.

  City elders thought about strategy and how to move their households. There were slaves to consider. There was property that they would lose, no matter how hard they willed it to come with them. Houses that had held generations of wealth could not rise above the floods and become seaworthy, and so those generations of belongings had to be considered carefully.

  Shopkeepers, blacksmiths, bakers, butchers, all knew better. What was there could be replaced; it would be unfortunate, but it could be taken care of. Those who were wisest paid the Union of Thieves to help them out. The Union was good at moving things that weren’t easily moved. The slavers moved people. The Union moved possessions.

  All of that, while the city elders contemplated and bemoaned the situation they found themselves in.

  Hollum was still there, but the storms had grown to devastating proportions and Theryn, with the other rulers of the Union, got busy moving. It was twilight when the caravans started moving.

  The people of Hollum fled the disaster. They escaped like the rodents that left Hollum. They were not proud. They were desperate. Desperate people seldom argue.

  The city elders tried to take control of the situation. They demanded that people pay extra taxes. They told the leaders of the city guard to gather their forces and prepare to protect the goods they collected.

  There were no wagons waiting to take their supplies. The commanders of the guard nodded and bowed and then ran home to gather their families. The rivers rose and the streets of Hollum were swept clean of debris for the first time in decades. Some left before Hollum collapsed. Some did not. That is the way with disasters.

  Those that left did not discuss locations. That decision had already been made. The Union of Thieves had no desire to go to Edinrun. Even before the madness that city would have never accepted them.

  They rode for Torema. If ever a city and country had been prepared to embrace still more thieves and desperate people, that was the place.

  Torema was to the south.

  Theryn knew that Tully had gone south, too. He got that much out of Rik before she finished peeling his flesh away. Rik had underestimated her desire for revenge. He would never have the chance to do so a second time. She was not called the Blood Mother without good reason.

  Chapter Five

  Alone in the Dark

  Harper Ruttket

  They were fast, they made obscene noises, and they took down the first of the horses like it was the tiniest of lambs and they were wolves.

  The horse screamed as it died, alerting everyone else in the camp. The other side effect of the scream was that most of the other horses went into a blind panic, as did half the men.

  Mosely said, “What are those things?” even as he pulled up his bow and took aim. He loosed an arrow into the side of one of the withered things and it hissed but otherwise failed to acknowledge that it should have been dead. The arrow had been true and pierced both a rib and its heart.

  Laram called back, “Well, I don’t fucking know what they are. Just run!”

  Rather than listen, Mosely looked and tried to find a weak spot. He couldn’t take out the eyes of the damned thing as the entire face hid behind some sort of metal mask. There was just that vile mouth screeching and biting air and the thin white hair above. The rest of the thing was almost as pale and looked like a starving beggar who’d gone without eating for at least a fortnight.

  When the thing opened its mouth to scream, he shot and the arrow punched through the cheek of the face just under the mask and came out the other side of the mouth.

  It kept screaming and it charged for him and that was the last of brave Mosely. He turned tail and ran. If it could be killed that was one thing. If it kept coming after it should have died, he wanted nothing to do with it. Sorcery was never a good enemy to run across.

  He made twelve paces before Harper walked in the opposite direction, weapons drawn and face set with that nasty half-smile of his. “You’ve got a bloody axe, you weak bastard. Come use it.”

  Mosely flushed with shame. Much as he wanted to run, he reached for the axe on his hip and started back.

  The thing with the arrow in its face came for Harper and swept one clawed hand at him. His left hand blocked with the hooked sword he carried; the hook caught the thing’s wrist and with a flick of his hand the arm of his enemy was extended. The other sword came down and hacked the arm away just below the shoulder.

  The creature screeched and Harper spun, using his right-hand sword to chop into the hamstring of the closest leg and down it went. It was alive, it fought. It reached for Harper and he stepped back with ease as it came for him.

  Harper stepped back a second time and cut through the tendon on the one leg that still worked. It could crawl after him if it wanted, but the process would be slow.

  “Grab your weapons! If you can’t kill the fucking things, cripple them!”

  One of the damned things came for Harper as he spoke and the man turned, parried the hand reaching for him and then ran his blade along the length of that arm. Muscle and tendon slid away from bone and as the thing fell forward, crying out, Harper hacked through its neck.

  The next two approached with a great deal more caution.

  “They can’t kill us! They need us alive. Everyone needs us alive if they want to appease the gods.” Harper retreated along the rough terrain as the two of them came for him, half slithering over the ground, moving their legs and arms in ways no human could without being crippled. They learned.

  Mosely came forward and brought his axe down on the back of one of the beasts. It shrieked as the axe cut through the spine just below the shoulder blades and then it collapsed. It was still alive, still trying to move, but everything below the blow was motionless. The face of the thing turned toward Mosely and those teeth snapped again and again as it lunged.

  Harper knew what was going through Mosely’s mind. He punished himself regularly for being a coward, despite the fact that he almost never backed away from a fight. It was a struggle for him each and every time. Harper knew that, but said nothing about it.

  Still Mosely swept the axe around and caught the thing in the mouth, shattering the jaw and sending teeth scattering over the rocks.

  Harper moved like a dancer, cutting and dodging and blocking with that same smile on his face. He loved to fight. He lived to fight. That was the only time he ever seemed alive.

  Mosely grunted and used the haft of his axe to block one of the things that seemed to come from nowhere and tried to eat his face. The hands of the thing grabbed his axe and tried to pull it from his grip. Mosely kicked out with one heavy boot and caught it in the knee, breaking the bones there. On most opponents it would have been enough, but the thing persisted anyway, leaping with its one good leg and pulling on the axe with all its strength and weight. Mosely was a big man but he was not braced for the action. He and the iron-faced beast went down together in a tangle.

  The teeth came at him again. He shoved his forearm into the path of the biting creature. The heavy sleeve took the worst of the bite, though he felt the teeth worrying at his arm even through the layers meant to fight off the cold.

  He couldn’t drop the axe. He didn’t dare. What if the scrawny beast turned it on him?

  It tried. The iron-face pulled as hard as it could and it likely would have taken him, but Bump hit the fool thing with a hammer and shattered its skull from behind.

  Bump didn’t wait around. He was off already as Mosely tried to recover. The thing was not dead. He could feel it trying to move, but with most of its brains splattered across the ground and over Mosely, it was having troubles. Brogan’s cousin gr
ew pale and Harper knew he was close to vomiting, but he rolled away from it and tore his axe free.

  Meanwhile, Harper was surrounded by four of the damned things. Two were down and cut to the crippling point. The others crawled over their fallen brethren and did their best to break the man’s defenses.

  Mosely followed Bump’s lead and hit one of the vile things on the top of its head with his axe. The metal driven into the face did not yield. The skull did. Once again it continued to move, but its limbs jittered and danced and flopped.

  Harper feinted at one of the things and it backed away warily. Five feet away, Mosely moved from one he’d downed, looking for the next. He didn’t have to look far. It came in low and caught him at the waist, lifting his bulk with ease. Mosely was larger than most men. That ran in the family. The thing carried him off the ground and ran toward Harper, screaming the entire way.

  Mosely tried hitting it in the back with his axe but he couldn’t get a good angle; it was too close and he was too busy not panicking. His feet were off the ground and all he felt was air. He was traveling backward and tried to see where he was going, while calling out to Harper to warn him.

  Harper grunted as Mosely ran into him. For one instant he thought the man would cut him in two and then the sword moved out of his way and he was smashing into Brogan’s cousin.

  They both went over. The thing drove them into the ground and ripped at Mosely, pulling his axe away. He screamed, cuffed it on the head and watched the blow do nothing. He’d punched larger men out with one blow but as he’d already seen the metal-faces felt no pain, or if they did, they ignored it.

  Harper grunted and drove a dagger through the thing’s skull. It flopped down over the both of them.

  “Get off of me! Get up, damn it, there’s more of them coming!” Harper’s words were harsh but Mosely listened, rolling to his knees, grabbing his axe and looking around just in time for the next of the things to smash into him. Down he went again. This time his head didn’t bounce off Harper but off a rock instead, and Harper heard the bone in his cheek break.