Ez Ozel: Prologue to Perdition
Page 2
She craned her head around the back of the cart and looked over at the fat guy that Fierd had nodded to. Only now did she notice all the dead people lying around. There was so much blood in the snow. Parts of the men were scattered all around the clearing.
“What… What is this?”
Fierd glanced around behind him. With an uneasy look on his face, he stepped closer in front of her. “You don’t need to see all that.”
She pulled the boots and hat on, and she plopped down into the snow. She walked over to the closest corpse and stared at it.
“Come on, then. The place you come from sounds good and clean. You don’t need to be staring at dead folk.”
“It’s good to see it,” she said without looking away. “You read about people getting hurt and dying, but it’s just words. I needed to see it for real.”
Fierd stepped up and put the fur coats on her shoulders. She startled. “You ready to go now that you’ve seen all this?”
She pulled her gaze away. “Yeah. I don’t need to see another dead body for a while. Thanks a lot, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Name’s Fierd.”
She glanced at one of the other corpses as she pulled her arms through the coats. “Like you’re a feared man?”
Fierd let out a bemused chuckle. “Probably not wrong, but it’s spelled different. Never noticed the similarity ‘til now. And what do I call you?”
“I’m Karedess,” she said.
“Interesting name, that. All the folks down south have such fancy long names?”
Karedess shrugged. “I don’t think so?”
“Well, we’d best start moving. You all set to go?”
“Um…”
“What is it?” Fierd asked.
“I’m really hungry. I’ve been in that cart forever and they barely gave me anything to eat. If they didn’t keep all their water in there, I’d have died of thirst too.”
Fierd looked around the area. “Game probably ran away from the fighting.” He reached into his longcoat, grabbed the sleeve of salted venison he’d taken from one of the dead bandits, and handed it to her. “Have that. Should be plenty.”
She opened it ravenously, completely focused on getting to the savory meat within.
“You happen to know if they had any tools or adhesives in there? Maybe some solid wood or something?”
Karedess spoke through a full mouth. “There’s a little bit near where I was hiding. I think it’s to fix wheels.”
“Good enough.” She scooted aside as Fierd climbed into the cart and hunted for the materials. “Yoke needs some work before we can head out. I’ll tend to that while you get your fill.”
He collected some barely serviceable lumber, a near-dull handsaw, and a small bottle of coll resin. That last item was an impressive find for a little Juris wagon. Coll resin was remarkably powerful and expensive. They must’ve hit a well-to-do household or a construction outfit.
He hopped out of the cart with his supplies and eyed Karedess as she ate her meal and looked around her nervously. He allowed himself a joyless smile. He hadn’t been able to save Mag, but he’d saved this girl at least.
***
It was a little over an hour before Fierd had the yoke in working order. It still looked terrible, and it’d likely fall apart regularly without some better materials, but it’d hold for now. He gave the horses a pat and headed up to the driver’s bench. Karedess was already fast asleep under a pile of furs in the navigator’s spot. He climbed up as gently as he could to avoid waking her, but she still stirred.
“We leaving?”
Fierd grunted a yes. “You can sleep if you want. Nothing but long roads ahead for a while.”
She straightened up in her seat. “Everything is so weird here.”
“Weird how?”
Karedess closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The air is so thin and cold. The ground’s all jagged and slippery. And all these trees…”
Fierd looked at the black husks all around them. “Southern trees different than this?”
“Mmm hmm. A lot. There are some like this, but they have leaves on them instead of spindles. We have dermal trees too, which look different than this.”
“Sounds like I’ve got a lot to see.”
They rode in silence for a moment. Fierd wriggled in his seat a bit trying to get comfortable.
“Where are you from?” Karedess asked.
“Little village on the Helve. Folk call it Camston. Nice enough.”
“Why’d you leave?”
Fierd paused a moment. “Rasend attack. Killed everyone but me.”
“Oh.” She looked off to the west. “Is it always so dangerous in the north?”
Fierd shrugged. “Wasn’t until the Rasend showed up that it got real bad, and they only turned up a few years ago. Other than that, it’s pretty peaceful up this way. But there’s gettin’ to be more and more of those mad fucks.”
“What are Rasend, anyway?” Karedess asked.
“Do people in the south not read the Propter? Rasend look like regular folk, but they act like animals. Seen one walk into town once, normal as you or me. Minute later, they charge the smith’s apprentice on all fours. Ate the skin off the boy’s left arm before someone managed to hack it off.”
“They eat people?”
Fierd spat. “They eat anything. Reckon that’s all they really do. Eat, fight, and fuck. Animals.”
They rode in silence a bit longer, Karedess looking at her feet. “I think you’ll like Ildia,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“Yeah? Tell me about it.”
“Well, it’s big and shiny. Lots of people there. The streets always smell of sweets and tasty foods, at least in our quarter. It’s warm and sunny most of the time, and Mount Fulsome is super pretty.”
“You folks got mountains down there too?” Fierd asked.
“Yeah, but it’s different than up here. It’s the only mountain around, and nobody lives on it. The royal keep is built into the side, and the foundry is inside. It’s real hot inside, so they use it to make coins and metalwork.”
Fierd turned at that. “Metalwork. Like weapons? Lots of fightin’ going on there?”
“Oh, no. Weapons are mostly for the city Ward. Well, except recently the army made a lot of stuff to go to war.”
Fierd grimaced. “A war? Doesn’t sound too peaceful to me.” He looked out at the frosty northern landscape.
“It’s really not that bad. They sailed over in summer last year to stop a bad city full of god worshippers.”
“Worshippers? Who would do that? They don’t read the Propter either?”
“Lots of people don’t believe in the Propter anymore, though it’s hard to think about actually forgetting its warning about worshipping gods. Our king’s on a mission to stamp it out before more people start doing it.”
“Reckon that’s a noble cause, but I don’t want to get caught up in any fighting.”
Karedess looked upward in thought. “I don’t think they do that. Mama says that most of the army is volunteer, and they only conscript people when things are really really bad.”
“Volunteer?” Fierd shook his head like he’d never heard such an incredible word. “Why would any sane person volunteer for fighting?”
“Well, the kingdom gives you stuff if you serve for a while. You get money and a title, which makes it a lot easier to buy a house and stuff.”
Fierd grunted. “Lot better system than we got.”
“What do you guys do?”
“We pay regular dues to the Halefort. In turn, we’re supposed to get protection and trade. But if trouble starts elsewhere, they call us in to go fight with their regulars.” Fierd grunted. “The trade always worked out well, but there weren’t no protection that saved us from getting mauled by a pack of Rasend.”
“You should yell at your king! He’s supposed to help you when stuff like that happens.”
Fierd shrugged. “Doubt she could. Suz
erain named Palt rules the Halefort, and I think the Rasend are just too quick and erratic for her to respond to.” The cart bounced over a rocky patch in the road, and Fierd tensed up, hoping the yoke wouldn’t break. It didn’t. “Could be worse, I guess. Our dues ain’t much, the trade lets us set up and live wherever we choose, and she did send her regulars to fend off a group of Gelid prisoners that stole a trade ship a while back. Didn’t lose a single settlement, she sent ‘em so quick.”
“Sounds weird,” she said, looking a bit confused. “Have you guys asked Ildia for help with the crazy people? All the cities in the Commonwealth are supposed to help each other.”
“Now, there’s an idea,” Fierd said, smiling. “Though we tend to be proud folk. Didn’t choose to live so far remote without the desire to handle our own issues.”
“Oh.” Karedess fell back into silence for a time. Various animals hopped around as their cart crunched its way through the fresh powder on the road. There were some rabbits, foxes, and qinders that would run as soon as they saw the cart. She looked back up at Fierd. “Do you have any pets?”
“Crap, but you’re a chatty one. I’m not used to talking much. You mind if we ease up on the conversation?”
“I guess not,” she replied. She hung her head, a bit dejected, and let loose a long sigh.
Fierd rolled his eyes. “No. No pets.”
She smiled. “I have a ment! She’s adorable. You’ll have to meet her. She… She…” Karedess sneezed and wiped her nose with the back of one of her oversized fur sleeves.
“Not surprised,” Fierd said. “You traveling in that cart for who knows how long with nothing but rags on. Bound to get sick from all that cold.”
“Do northerners have any secret cures for sickness? You must get it all the time with it being so cold up here.”
“Rest and warmth is all there is for it. Northfolk are people just like anyone else. You make us sound like a different species.”
“Sorry,” she said, sniffling at her runny nose.
“We’ve got plenty more time to chat about the north, and I’ll tell you more later if you really care to hear it. How about you bundle up in those furs for now and get some more sleep? I know you can use it.”
“Yeah, that does sound like a good idea. Wake me up if there’s anything interesting. Or if I can help. Or if you want to talk more. Or if—”
He waved his hand at her. “I will. Now get some sleep.”
She leaned back on the bench and was lightly snoring within minutes.
CHAPTER THREE
Merrik walked down the wealthy district’s main road toward the Conclave’s courtyard. Summer in Ryten was just about the furthest thing from comfortable, but he scarcely noticed the heat. His mind was elsewhere. A part of him wanted to stop and look at the latest iteration of the courtyard’s garden. They always changed things so elaborately with the seasons, and it was a big enough draw to get travelers to come from all over to see the latest arrangements. But his brain refused to relax. He stayed lost in his own mind.
“Master Merrik,” a voice shouted from behind him.
He ignored it and kept walking. His fingers pulled unconsciously at a scab on his wrist while his mind raced to no particular destination. He felt a deep muscle pain in his left hip, which caused him to wince and breathe in sharply, which in turn started another horrible coughing fit. He wandered over to a large planter and leaned on it while he got through his fit. It took him a moment, but he recovered and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“Master Merrik.” Alregon, the head steward of House Severil, clasped his hand on Merrik’s shoulder.
He spun. “Yes, I hear you, Al.”
“What are you doing out here alone? What if you have an episode or fall down?”
Merrik waved a hand dismissively. “I’m a grown man, and I’m perfectly fine to take a short walk by myself.” His violent cough punctuated his lie. “I just need to clear my head.”
“Dr. Olin is still at the estate. He said you shouldn’t be up and about, and he another test he’d like to—”
“Fuck his tests. He doesn’t know how to make me better any more than the rest of the retinue we have marching around the grounds with aliments, tinctures, and therapies. Just send him home. While you’re at it, clear the schedule of all the other doctors, apothecaries, and chemists.”
“Are you…giving up?”
Merrik growled deeply to clear his throat and swallowed a large, foul-tasting glob of sick. “No, not giving up on me. Just giving up on them.”
There was a moment of silence between them. Alregon looked on him with pity and sadness. A mourning gaze of premature bereavement shone in his eyes.
“Stop,” Merrik said. “I have an idea of my own to ease…all of this.” He gestured to his bony and ailing body. He flicked his head to move the few sickly strands of hair from his eyes, and his neck cracked, uncomfortably loud. “And it doesn’t involve their bullshit medicine. They’ve been promising relief and recovery since I was a boy. They’re a joke.”
“Well then maybe a short walk is for the best. You’ve been locked in your study for weeks, and you could use the fresh air.” He flung a piece of his dark gray chiton over his shoulder before adjusting Merrik’s.
Merrik swatted at his hands in a fussy manner. “For shit’s sake, Al, I’m not a baby. I know you’ll always see me as an incapable child, but I’m closing on thirty years. Now either follow me or leave me be.”
“Maybe I can help. What have you been working on exactly?”
Merrik gave a deep, defeated sigh as he pushed off the planter and continued walking. “Some kind of puzzle. Every part of it is a moving piece, and I haven’t made much progress the last couple days.”
Alregon waved to the south. “Why don’t we go to the market? We can find a craftsman to force it to cooperate.”
Merrik shook his head. “This thing is far too fragile, I think. It’s all made of ceramic or polished stone.”
“Fascinating…”
Merrik looked back at him and gave a weak smile. “Isn’t it?”
They reached the center of the courtyard. Merrik took a seat on a bench and gazed forward at the statue of Senrigal the Realmwalker. Alregon joined him. They gazed at the large stone statue in silence. The brightest arrangements always used it as a centerpiece, so it was often the most beautiful part of the garden. The figure of Senrigal stood tall with an open book in one hand and a pen in the other, which pointed out to the horizon. The more insufferable art enthusiasts would say he was creating a new world with his pen or changing all of Hejira to make it more beautiful. Merrik had never understood artists.
“I come here to think when I get stuck on that thing.” He nodded at Senrigal’s statue. “I try to think like he did.”
“What does Master Senrigal have to do with this puzzle?”
Merrik grinned. “It’s his. I think it’s what he used to travel to other worlds.”
Alregon looked at Senrigal’s statue long and hard. “You do know those are just fairy tales, right?”
“I thought so too. But you know that new annex behind my study?”
“You blew a hole in the wall. I’d hardly call that an annex.”
Merrik waved his hand dismissively. “Regardless, it’s filled with all of Senrigal’s original journals and research. Those fairy tales about him are farces, but I think he actually traveled to these strange worlds. His journals give detailed accounts without all the fluff and pomp of the children’s books he published.”
Alregon took a long breath and gave a concerned glance in Merrik’s direction before looking back at the statue. “So what’s the plan? You want to follow in his footsteps? Get a statue of your own?”
“There is no plan yet. I can’t figure out this stupid puzzle.” Merrik stood and turned to face Alregon. “Go home, Al. I’m trying to clear my head, and you’re cluttering it up with all manner of bullshittery and downtalk.”
Alregon opened his mouth to speak, but he
quickly shut it when he saw Merrik give him that look. It was the same look Merrik had always used as a child right before he threw an epic tantrum. He was too weak and sick to kick and scream these days, but he did always manage to find a way to make Alregon’s life a nightmare until the grudge was lifted.
“Fine,” Alregon said, briefly raising his palms in acquiescence. “I need to head to the market anyway. Do you need anything?”
Merrik thought for a brief moment. “Get more of those effervescents you got last time. Those seemed to ease my innards a bit.”
“Will do. Please try not to stay out too late. The whole staff gets worried.”
Merrik nodded, not really hearing him. A few moments later, Alregon was gone and he sat back down on the bench. He stared at Senrigal again. How did he work through everything so easily? He’d found this stone puzzle, solved it perfectly, traveled to the various worlds it unlocked, and then disappeared. Was nothing a challenge to him? Why hadn’t Merrik gotten any of those genes? He grew frustrated, and his stomach roiled in anger.
That wasn’t a good sign. Alregon may have been right. It was probably time to head home. He needed something better than this to clear his head. He needed to take his mind off of his goal instead of stewing in it here. But what could divert his attention from the possibility of finally being able to—
His stomach screeched and his pants began to fill. He sighed and started his walk home, anus leaking a horrendous liquid down his leg the entire way. He turned some heads, inspired some gasps, and heard some surprised remarks, but he was used to that. Nobody ever dared to approach him about it when an incident like this happened, but he could feel their judgment. Fuck them anyway.
He continued home, taking solace in the fact that one day he might have a way out of all this.
CHAPTER FOUR
Casselle sat at one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen, breathing heavily with her elbows on her knees. Her shoulders rose up and down as she tried to calm her nerves, and she watched her long braid sway in an ovoid pattern, lightly scraping the floor. She was starting to feel a bit nauseous. She’d been in situations much more dangerous than this, and yet speaking to a group of her subordinates for the first time was pushing her close to a panic attack.