Teo needed to fully wake up before meeting Alexander. He thought of one way to clear his head. “Bring me a woman.”
“Of course, sir. Anyone in particular?”
Teo considered the various prostitutes he housed in the Chamber of Justice. Their only job was to be at his beck and call at all times; a job they were handsomely rewarded for. “Don’t care.”
He stepped into the office and sank into his chair, closing his eyes. He had forgotten his wine on the nightstand, and clapped his hands. A new Guardian opened the door.
“Sir?”
“Bring me some wine,” Teo said.
The man appeared with a chilled jug in his hands, followed by a pretty girl dressed with a fine dress that left her shoulders and most of her breasts uncovered. She flashed Teo a grin that did not match her sleepy eyes and ran to place her arms around his neck, planting soft kisses all over his face. She was a good choice; fresh and sweet-smelling, with long, brown hair that cascaded down her naked shoulders. The Guardian filled a goblet and placed it on the desk before closing the door behind him.
“How may I please my Lord today?” the girl whispered in his ear, pouting her lips.
Without a word, he pushed her down and unbuttoned his trousers. He leaned back on his chair and placed his head on his hands. As she serviced him, his mind wandered to Hecate. This girl was twice as pretty, but it was Hecate that filled his thoughts. She had stirred something inside him, something he thought he had lost a long time ago. But if she had succeeded, as Pratin had said, then her fate had been sealed. Was it too late to change his order? To save her life?
He remembered Hecate’s passion. The woman had turned out to be as fiery as her temper, burning with desire. Her genuine eagerness contrasted with the bought one of the prostitute between his legs, and he groaned in frustration. Mistaking the sound for passion, the girl redoubled her efforts. His enthusiasm flagged and he pushed her up to her slender legs. “That’s enough.”
Amber eyes widened and she pouted. “Did I do something to displease you?”
“Just go,” he rasped.
He took a sip of his wine as she slipped out of the room, bumping on Alexander. The Head Priest gawked at the girl, ogling her behind as she moved away, a crooked smile appearing on his thin lips.
“Come,” Teo said and motioned him to sit down. Whenever Alexander looked at a woman, Teo could not help but feel dirty somehow. “I’m told Hecate succeeded,” Teo started, taking the man by surprise.
Alexander sat down and shot a curious glance at Teo.
“How did you know? I only just found out, was going to tell you in the morning.”
Teo hid a smile, enjoying the man’s bemusement. This was good; he needed to keep people on their toes. “Where is she now?”
Alexander smoothed the creases of his white robe with a hand. “Dead, as you ordered.”
Teo let out a deep groan. It was too late. “Too bad. I really liked her.”
“She knew too much,” Alexander reminded him. “And betrayed her husband. Not a woman to be trusted.”
“She hated her husband,” Teo pointed out before letting out a sigh. “You’re right, I know. But she was so… eager. I’ll miss her.”
Alexander shot a brief glance at the door, where the young girl had exited minutes ago. “Not too much, I hope.” His eyes had a mischievous look.
Teo wondered if it took the man much effort to keep a straight face. “No, not too much,” he agreed before making a lewd gesture indicating a female form, bringing a grin to the priest’s face. “But she’s the least of my worries.” He drained his goblet and took his time filling it with more wine. “We have a location for David.”
Alexander’s face betrayed his confusion at the abrupt change of subject. “David… David Rivera? Parad’s killer? He’s back?”
“He’s stirring up trouble in the North with some Antheans.”
“Antheans?” Alexander sounded incredulous. “We haven’t had any trouble with them in years.”
“Snakes always resurface after a while. That’s why we need to take care of them now.”
Alexander rubbed his chin in thought. “You know, if we captured him, he would make for a great prize.”
A smile crawled up on Teo’s fat lips. He liked the way the Head Priest thought; so much like his own. “I know. See to it that he does, will you?”
Alexander bowed his head. “It will be an honour. What more do we know?”
“He’s with a hundred Antheans. They are heading to the Old Woman.”
“Are we sure?” Alexander did not try to hide his surprise. “Why would he do that?”
“Does it matter?” Teo took another sip. “All that matters is that we know where he’s going. Can you make sure he ends up here, instead?”
“Of course,” Alexander said, then paused. “Dead or alive?”
Teo flashed him a wide grin. “Alive, preferably. But you know me. I’m an easy man to please.”
The Marshes
Marl
Marl’s head pounded. What happened last night? He tried to gather his thoughts, then noticed Valentiner’s eyes on him. “Hey.”
“Hi, Dad.”
Why the bitter tone? He frowned in his effort to remember, then memories trickled back in his mind. He had tried to take her back, leave that forsaken place. And he had been drunk at the time. His mouth watered and twitched at the memory, even as regret filled his heart. He moaned, trying to push the memory away. What else had happened? No matter how much he tried to remember, nothing more came to him.
“Dad, I know you want us to go.”
He groaned with pain, his head killing him. “We have to go, honey. It’s not safe here.”
“Soon we will. I promise.”
He hated it when she stared at him with those big, amber eyes of hers. At that moment, he hated everything, of course: himself, his craving, the First who had trapped them there. The thing that had attacked his daughter and the Fallen that had nearly killed him. The creatures that had trapped them in Malekshei. Even Xhi, for enticing him to drink to forget what a miserable turn his life had taken somewhere along the line.
“Listen, honey, about last night…” His voice trailed off. What could he tell her that she did not already know? Sometimes he looked at her and it was his daughter; the baby he had held in his hands, so incredibly tiny and fragile. Other times, he barely recognized her, her hair turned white overnight, her eyes filled with knowledge and understanding far beyond her age. This was one of these times. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She placed a tender hand on his, weaving her fingers between his. “It’s not your fault.”
“What’s not…” He shook his head, not understanding. “Well, I suppose it is Xhi’s fault, for—”
“Xhi’s dead.”
His hand jolted under hers. “What?”
She squeezed his fingers in a vain attempt to console him. “His wife murdered him.”
How can she sound so calm? He swallowed hard. “No one stopped her?”
Her eyes seemed to examine something on the floor. “Everyone was here.”
Probably trying to see what the commotion was all about. Or to stop him from dragging Valentiner away. So it is my fault. His jaw slackened. This was the third time he had betrayed the people in his charge. He felt sick at himself, sick at his craving. His gut twisted and hurt. He bolted out of the tent to empty his stomach.
When his guts stopped rumbling, he gratefully accepted the towel Valentiner offered him. He wiped his mouth, still leaning over the small pool smelling of acid and alcohol. After a moment, he handed the soiled cloth back. “What happened to Hecate?”
Valentiner accepted the towel and placed it among some dirty clothes. “She escaped.”
He frowned, trying to figure this one out. How could she escape from a hill crawling with supernatural beings and First? How much of a fuss had he made, anyway? Or were they preoccupied with something else, as well? “What else happened last nig
ht?”
“Lehmor got injured.” Valentiner saw the question in her father’s eyes and hastened to continue. “That’s all I know. They haven’t told me anything.”
Marl drew in a deep breath, almost choking. He pushed through, feeling his insides relax somewhat. “Will he make it?”
“I don’t know. Kiwi was hurt, too. And…” Her voice trailed off.
“And?” Marl pushed her.
“Abaddon,” she whispered. “They say he’s dead.”
He collapsed on a trunk outside their tent. The man lacked any social skills, but he had saved them when they most needed him. Marl considered him a friend, even if they had only exchanged a few words. Valentiner sat down next to him and placed a small hand on his back to comfort him. Marl shook his head. “He can’t be. He’s the strongest man I know. Was it Fallen?”
“I don’t know, Dad.”
He sank his face into his hands for a long moment. “If they can get Abaddon, what chances do we have?”
Valentiner started a circular motion with her hand on his back. It was surprisingly soothing. “We only need to stay here a little longer. Then we can go home. Please don’t make me leave now.”
Marl shook his head. “Will we even make it?”
“We will. I promise.”
Something snapped in him and sorrow melted away, burned away by a fiery rage that sprang inside his soul unexpectedly. Everyone else had been fighting for the planet, for the people there, while he had been moaning all along. Perhaps if he had been there to help Abaddon, he would have survived. Abaddon’s words, a lifetime ago, echoed in his mind. So, you were a soldier when you had nothing worth fighting for, but a farmer now that you have something worth protecting. The words stung. I won’t be a coward anymore! He swivelled on the trunk to face his daughter, taking her hands in his. “Can you really help them?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Then we’re staying here as long as it takes. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
She jumped up to place her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”
Her grateful joy brought a sad smile to his face. For what? Had I not been such a coward, maybe Xhi and Abaddon would still be alive. It’s too late for them. But I won’t leave any battle again, if I can make a difference. His vow somewhat soothed the sting out of his soul. He closed his eyes and pulled Valentiner deeper in his embrace.
December 307
The Marshes
David
David glanced at the leaden sky. The unit’s healer had stitched up his wound and bandaged his leg. Each morning, he gave him a bitter-tasting tea for the pain, to help David ride more easily. He had also recommended rest, but there was no time for that. They had to reach the Old Woman before the approaching storm caught up with them. Otherwise, they would be stuck in the marshes for days, perhaps even weeks; easy prey to anyone looking for them, whether Fallen, clones or Capital soldiers. They had eschewed the coastal road in favour of less-travelled forest paths. A number of times they had come across farms. Their burned-down ruins spoke of the devastation inflicted to the North by the invaders from the East, both Fallen and clones. They had debated burying the scarred, mutilated remains, but decided against it. They had already lost half their force on the beach, and could not afford running into their elusive enemy. At least, there had been no sign of Capital soldiers.
David and Thomas had allowed their men to take any clothes they could find, getting rid of the Anthean uniforms. Most of the clothing had consisted of heavy furs, of the kind traded by the First, but they had welcomed it, for lack of something better. With the weather turning, they had come to appreciate the warmth offered by the primitive coats.
The wind carried the sweet stench of dead cows, their carcasses littering the clearing. Before long, the narrow path took them to another burned-down farm. A dead horse, swollen and bloated, jutted its legs stiffly into space like an overturned wooden toy, mud swallowing the rest of its body. It made an obscene gurgling sound as they passed by, drowning momentarily the rhythmic clop clop clop of their mounts’ hooves.
A faraway wolf howled, causing David’s horse to whine in dismay. He ignored the pain in his leg and patted its neck, his ears peeled for any unfamiliar sounds. Instead, only the eerie silence of battle greeted him; the stillness of death. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as they pressed ahead. He could not shake the feeling of being watched. The overwhelming smell of smoke lingered on the blackened stumps that were once an orchard. Instead of golden fruit, they were now decorated by memories of lives gone, clothing and litter hanging from burned branches.
David peeled his eyes away from the sorry sight, holding his breath until they trotted past the ruins. He glanced at the leaden, pregnant with rain sky. The seeds of winter had finally broken the unseasonably warm autumn. Each season contains the seeds of the next one, he reflected. Fast-approaching clouds swallowed what little light was left in the afternoon sky. Within minutes, a light drizzle, more mist than rain, soaked their clothes and reduced the surrounding trees to dark silhouettes. Thomas draped his woollen coat around his shoulders, blowing fur strands away from his face. His fingers grabbed the silver clasp to stop a biting gust of wind from stealing the coat away.
“Is the North always this pleasant?” he asked, covering his face with a scarf. His voice came out muffled.
David chuckled and pulled his hood over his head. “Not at all.” He shielded his eyes from a few stray droplets of rain as his gaze struggled to penetrate the thickening mist. “It’s usually worse.”
Thomas muttered something under his breath and spurred his horse to reach the cover offered by the oaks ahead before the storm caught up with them. One by one, the long column of riders entered the dark forest, seeking shelter under the dense canopy. The sparing light struggled to penetrate needled branches, but gave up in exasperation as the fog congealed around them, swallowing them whole.
David drank in the forest's smell, the earthy musk of sap and decaying leaves, his mind distracted by the biting cold numbing his fingers. The reins secure around his wrist, he clapped his leather gloves to get the blood flowing again. At least, the cold numbed the dull pain in his leg, too.
After a while, the narrow path led them into a thinning part of the forest. Leafless branches allowed the downpour through. The strong, bitter winds blowing from the north sent the downpour to slip through any opening in his clothes and trickle down his back. Thank Themis we’re well-dressed.
“We don’t have much longer now,” David said. “A few days at the most.”
“That’s what you said a week ago.” Thomas probably meant this as a tease, but it came out as a nag.
“It’s the rain,” David said, trying to hide his exasperation. “The horses can’t go any faster.” As if to prove his point, his horse slipped on the mud, breaking the monotony of the muddy trail and nearly throwing him off. He swallowed a cry of pain and clutched the saddle to hold his balance, then leaned forward to murmur words of encouragement near the beast’s ear. The horse regained its footing and continued climbing the narrow path.
Steadily, the bare oaks gave way to firs and spruces as they entered a narrow ravine. The horses fell one behind the other, the line extending for hundreds of yards. David guessed by the diminishing light that it was getting late. Soon, they would have to break for the day. The drugs the healer had given him for the pain made him lightheaded, and he smiled in anticipation of a hot tea to warm him. Perhaps even a chance to dry up – how good that would be. The rain now turned into heavy drizzle, the thick branches bearing the brunt of the storm. Mist swirled from the ground, dressing up the woods in eerie silence, broken only by distant thunder and the splashes of hooves into muddy holes. He turned to Thomas. “Once we’re over the next hill, we’re there.”
The man nodded, keeping his head bowed to avoid the water. “Good.”
“You had enough of me already, Major?” David joked. “I’m hurt.” He assumed Thomas had smiled, but it was
hard to tell from under the layers of clothes covering his head.
Sudden pain split his head as a familiar voice echoed in his mind: Duck! He instinctively jerked the reins back in alarm, and a spear skewered his horse’s thigh, missing him by a mere inch. The horse bolted and faltered, sending David to fly in the air. A thick layer of soaked leaves and needles broke his fall. His injured leg beat with pain as he pulled himself to shaking feet and extended his arm in search of the enemy. The Sheimlek-dar sprang to life, the blue eye at its centre awoken. Loud cries and a horn sounded, the sounds muffled by the rain. Within seconds, logs rolled from the sides of the ravine, coming down to crash ahead of them, blocking the path. He jumped to the side to avoid a heavy trunk that hit the ground on one end to jump over his head, crashing against the tree behind him.
“Ambush!” Thomas galloped to David, drawing his sword.
We’re spread too thin! The realization came too late. All around them, shadows congealed into men jumping from the trees and the bushes. Thomas spun his horse around and tried to pull his bow. The wet string plopped, useless. He threw the weapon down, cursing. With nowhere to go, he jumped off his horse to lunge behind a fallen trunk. More spears flew around them, impaling themselves into the rough bark of the trees.
A man solidified out of the darkness to thrust his spear at David, the mist swirling around him. David fought the urge to close his eyes as he tugged his hand. A single bolt of crackling blue light hit the man in the chest. The assailant flew backwards, a look of surprise on his face. He crashed against a tree, already dead by the time his face plodded into a muddy hole.
David gaped at the motionless body for a moment, struggling to take in the man’s white robes. His eye caught on a Themis’ amulet, shining through the brown waters. Why are priests attacking us?
A loud cry snapped him back to the present. He whirled around to see Thomas duck under a priest’s monstrous axe. Thomas slipped on the mud and landed in a small pool of water, splashing brown water all around him. The priest swung his weapon, threatening to cut Thomas in two. Wiping raindrops from his brow, David took aim and fired, but the blue sphere overshot the man and burst against a tree, setting it on fire. The priest shot David a surprised glance. With a growl, he turned his attention to the new threat.
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 80
