‘Dancer’s grace,’ Tara said. She spun on her heel and crept off through the scrub, her throat strangely tight.
‘All right, lads,’ she heard Costas say almost cheerfully, ‘we’re here for one reason only.’
‘King and country?’ a soldier asked and Costas laughed.
‘Fuck King Rastoth,’ he shouted, ‘we’re here to ensure Carter gets back home. Now, the Dancer’s watching, and She’s waiting for us, but I say let’s make Her wait a little longer, because Carter’s running like a scared hare right now, and if we give her the chance, she’s going to bring the Wolves and the rest of the West Rank back here and they’re going to carve this bunch of motherfuckers’ – his voice rose into a scream – ‘into bloody ribbons.’
‘Cos-tas! Cos-tas! Cos-tas!’ they yelled as Tara made it to the treeline. She looked back and the Hundred were clashing their swords on their shields in time to the chant. She could see even more Mireces from here and knew they’d all be dead inside an hour.
‘Heroes of the West Rank,’ she heard Costas’s voice, faint on the wind, ‘it’s been a pleasure, you bastards.’
Tara wasted – or didn’t, depending on your view – a few seconds saluting the almost-fallen, then she ducked into the trees and started to run.
RILLIRIN
Third moon, eighteenth year of the reign of King Rastoth
Blood Pass Valley, Gilgoras Mountains, Rilporian border
‘Still no movement?’
‘Nothing. It’s empty, Chief. They’re not coming.’ Ash scratched his back, stretching. Long time sitting watching. ‘We’ve been here for days. Maybe Dom got it wrong.’
‘Dom didn’t get it wrong,’ Dom said without rancour, not shifting his gaze from the pale slash of the valley.
‘They’re coming,’ Lim agreed. ‘There’s Crys’s testimony too.’
‘And you couldn’t possibly disbelieve anything pretty-boy has to say, could you, Ash?’ Dom said, and now he did look at Ash. Ash grinned and gave him the finger.
‘Have we heard anything from the West Rank?’ Lim asked, worry etching lines into his forehead.
‘Only that they continue to patrol the plain and Blackgate Woods. No movement there either. Haven’t found anyone using the drop caches. Haven’t found the damn caches either.’
Lim grunted. ‘Neither have we. Your opinion?’ he asked and Rillirin looked away from the pass and at the men watching her.
Her? She flushed, and then lifted her chin. She knew the Mireces better than they did, better than anyone. And she’d fucked up once. She wouldn’t let anyone else die because she was too cowardly to speak. ‘They’re coming. If Dom says they’re on their way, I believe him. But not just that,’ she added as Ash rolled his eyes, ‘it’s third moon. The weather’s mild enough now that they could raid. The only reason they wouldn’t take advantage of an early thaw is if they were planning a big push and needed to gather the villages.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. Liris used to tell me stories sometimes, when he was drunk. Stories of great raids, of full-scale battles fought in the old days. He called them glory-memories. They’re so old even the old men weren’t part of them. There was always talk of forging a new glory-memory, but Liris was against it. Too lazy, some said, but gossip from Crow Crag always said Corvus was ambitious. He’ll want a glory-memory of his own. Plus, the Blessed One – I mean Lanta – she said they were recruiting a powerful man in Rilpor who would do more for the cause than Liris ever had. We know that much has come true. There’s no way she’ll pass up this chance now. Even if Corvus decided not to invade, she could probably get enough fanatics to follow her and come herself.’
Dom got that faraway look again. ‘They’re coming with everything they’ve got,’ he said. ‘Blood oaths and sacrifices and the Dark Lady’s blessing. No quarter, and no prisoners. They’re coming.’
The little group blinked and looked up the valley one more time in silence. They were high up in the foothills where the wind was still sharp and the trees grew twisted from its constant force.
‘What about the Gil-beside Road?’ asked Rillirin. It niggled that all their attention was focused on the Blood Pass. The obvious choice. Corvus is clever enough not to be predictable. He knows all the ways down from the Sky Path.
‘They couldn’t bring a full army down the Gil-beside,’ Ash said. ‘It’s too narrow, too dangerous. It would mean they couldn’t bring packhorses or mules, siege weapons, wagons. They’d be hauling everything by hand.’
‘So it’s unlikely,’ Lim finished and Rillirin stared at the patchy snow and greening grass.
‘But not impossible? Difficult, yes, but if you wanted to take a superior force by surprise, it would be an option.’
Lim grunted. ‘No, not impossible. But we already have patrols out that way and Mace has a score of men camped at the Final Falls. We’d hear from someone if movement was spotted.’
His words were counterpointed by a faint horn call drifting on the breeze. Lim’s eyes snapped to Rillirin. She nodded convulsively, her chest tight. ‘That’s them. That’s a Mireces cow horn.’
‘The straight advance after all. Can’t say I’m not relieved,’ Lim said.
‘At least the waiting’s over,’ Dom said, but his shoulders were tense, worried.
‘Ash, Dalli, eyes on the pass. I need to know numbers. Dalli, it’ll take you two days to reach the West Rank, so try and get an estimate before you go. Ash, I’ll send someone to relieve you at dusk. We want eyes on them constantly. We’ll evacuate the village and stage at the charcoal pits at the edge of the valley, ready to move when the Rank gets there. You know the place?’ Ash nodded. ‘Good. Do not engage.’ Lim’s voice was fierce and the pair nodded, settling down in the lee of a fallen tree to watch.
‘Everyone else, back to the village to help move supplies,’ Lim said, clapped the sentries on their backs and loped off in the endless, mile-eating stride of the Wolves, Dom matching his pace, Rillirin crashing along behind.
Lim pulled ahead and so he didn’t see Dom stumble, missing his footing on the slope. He grunted and limped a few strides before shaking off the pain and carrying on, but that wasn’t what stopped Rillirin from going to his aid. It was the fact he was talking to himself, a heated, one-sided conversation with a voice only he could hear.
‘No, I won’t tell them that, I won’t tell them anything,’ he hissed. ‘No, I don’t. Stop calling me that.’ Dom grunted and clutched his right arm to his chest as he ran. ‘Fine, I promise. Just stop hurting me,’ he said and then glanced back, saw Rillirin watching him and forced a smile.
Rillirin didn’t smile back.
DOM
Third moon, eighteenth year of the reign of King Rastoth
Charcoal pit camp, Blood Pass Valley, Mount Gil foothills, Rilporian border
It was dark when Dom woke. The cavern echoed with bouncing, rushing laughter that slithered clammy fingers beneath his clothes. He shuddered and pinched the inside of his thigh to wake himself. Dream thigh. No luck.
As always, She was standing behind him, wearing a gown that revealed more than it hid; it clung to Her curves and stirred in the hot breeze to show flashes of leg and belly, the dark curve of one erect nipple. Dom swallowed and concentrated on Her right ear. It seemed the safest place to look.
‘We meet again, Calestar. Despite all your protestations, waking and sleeping, you keep on coming back. Tell me why.’ He didn’t – couldn’t – answer and She smiled, reached out Her left hand to touch the bracelet of scars around his right wrist. He yelped and tried to pull away, but Her grip was steel and the scars burnt a fierce red, an inner glow that coursed fire through his veins. He ground his teeth together, fists balled.
‘What, no screams this time?’ She laughed and the flare of pain increased. ‘You owe me screams, remember? You owe me everything.’
‘Only until my oath is fulfilled,’ Dom said through gritted teeth, tears in his eyes. ‘Once I find Hazel’s killers,
I’m free.’ The Dark Lady pouted like a spoilt but dangerous, oh-so dangerous, child. She released him and flounced away a step.
He bent over, arm between his knees. ‘Dream,’ he muttered between pants, ‘just a dream.’
The goddess’s laughter pealed off the rock as She bent down to see into his face. ‘Do you really think pain like this is a dream?’ She hissed, and for a moment he was sure Her tongue forked like a serpent’s. Her golden eyes bored into his. ‘Do you?’ She asked again, almost puzzled, as the wreaths of fire flickered again up his arm.
‘Wake up now,’ Dom gasped, ignoring the smell of burning flesh, ‘just wake up.’ When he was a boy of thirteen he’d upturned a cooking pot on his bare foot. That sizzling, branding, burrowing pain was the worst burn he’d ever suffered. It was nothing like this. He bit his tongue and forced himself upright, swallowing screams. He wouldn’t bow to Her.
‘You are awake, Calestar,’ the Dark Lady said, reaching out to his arm again. The flames danced over Her skin and She shivered with pleasure. ‘You’re as awake as you’ll ever be worshipping that old hag. You’re through the veil now, my love. You’re in my world.’ She gripped his biceps and dragged him towards Her so that their lips touched as She talked, breasts and belly moulding against him. Fire rippled around them and through the crackle and below Her voice he could hear screaming. It might have been his.
‘I could give you such power, power you’ve never even imagined. I could take your foretelling and polish it into gold. You could see everything the world has to offer, see it and make yourself rich, powerful, ruler of the whole world. People would worship you, flock to hear your predictions. Women throw themselves at you,’ She murmured, one hand cupping him. He gagged even as he stirred.
‘Such power. And such pleasure. You could charge them any price, ask anything in return for your visions. I’d even take away the pain, so that you could simply reach out and pluck the future from the shadows like a man picking an apple. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want … this? Me?’ She tightened Her fingers on him.
Dom leant back and looked into Her eyes. He could see all She promised, all that and more. His hips moved and She moaned, Her free hand sliding across his back. Images danced in his skull, of him in a crown, foreseeing flood and famine and being able to counter both, of knowing how to defeat an enemy before they even attacked, of who was responsible for Hazel and their child’s death. It was all there, just out of reach. She could give him everything.
He leant in and kissed Her, felt the hot press of Her tongue into his mouth. He thought of Rillirin. And bit.
Dom thrashed upright with a scream, pushing with one hand, gagging and scrubbing the other over his mouth. The taste of blood was strong and he couldn’t see: hair in his eyes. He scraped it clear and screamed again when he saw a figure looming over him; he stumbled to his feet, fingers scrabbling for his sword.
‘Dom, it’s us, Sarilla, Rillirin, all of us,’ Sarilla said. ‘You’re safe, at the charcoal pits by the valley, remember?’
‘What?’
‘You’re safe.’
‘Sarilla?’
‘Yes, Dom, Sarilla.’ She held out a hand and Dom shied away. ‘Sit down. Talk.’
Dom hesitated and then complied, eyes darting around the firelit camp, right hand cradled against his chest. He wiped a hand over his face, felt wet on his cheeks and sank back into his blankets. ‘Didn’t mean to wake you,’ he mumbled. ‘Can’t get comfortable.’
‘Start talking,’ Sarilla said in that special way she had. ‘You’ve told us the cause of the nightmares, now maybe you should describe what happens in them.’ Dom blushed, glad it was dark. ‘It’d help,’ Sarilla added and the others gathered close, waiting.
‘How do you know?’ Dom grunted suddenly. ‘How the fuck would you know what would help?’
‘Listen, you little piss-stain,’ Sarilla snarled, ‘there’s a war coming and no one can get any bloody sleep because of you screaming all the time. So start talking and maybe we can help you.’
Dom lurched to his feet, grabbed sword and blanket and marched past Sarilla. He got all of three strides before she gripped his shoulder. He could have pulled past but he stopped, frustrated and ashamed. He was behaving like a child and he knew it. So did everyone else.
‘Talk to us, Dom,’ Rillirin pleaded. Hands pulled him back, forced him to sit, and Sarilla kindled a candle and set it in the middle, driving back a little darkness.
‘They’re not nightmares,’ Dom said, weary beyond words. He made a cutting gesture with one hand when they began to protest. ‘They’re not nightmares,’ he repeated. ‘What I told you at the temple, that the Dark Lady visits me at night, that’s exactly what I mean. She visits me. I don’t dream Her, I get … taken to Her.’ Dead silence.
‘Taken where?’ Sarilla asked, looking as if she wished she’d never asked in the first place.
‘No idea. A cave, cavern, huge place, cold, firelit. The gods are there.’
Rillirin pressed herself to his side and put her arm around his waist. ‘The Waystation,’ she whispered. ‘The Blessed – Lanta talked of it. The place beyond the veil the Red Gods come to when They want to talk to mortals. To the priesthood. Or you, I suppose.’
‘All right, the Waystation,’ Dom said, not giving a fuck what it was called. ‘What They do to me there, I can still remember, still feel, when I wake up.’
‘And what do They do to you?’ Sarilla asked. Their faces were haunted in the feeble light, and Dom wondered what his must look like.
‘Whatever They feel like. Normally it’s the Dark Lady, but Gosfath shows up every so often. He’s … more straightforward. It’s just pain with Him.’ He coughed a laugh at the utter inadequacy of words. Just pain.
‘And the Dark Lady?’
‘That’s where it gets interesting,’ Dom said, trying for glibness and falling far short. He gave up and just said it. ‘She’s playing with me, trying to wear me down. Each night Her offers are a little bigger, a little grander. And each night Her punishments for my refusal are a little harsher. And that’s when I start screaming.’
‘What are the offers for?’ Lim broke his silence. ‘Why is She offering you anything at all?’
‘I told you before, She wants my soul. It amuses Her to think I’ll betray the gods,’ he put his hand over the scars, ‘and pledge myself to Her.’
Lim rubbed his chin. ‘Surely She’s going to a lot of effort just for one soul. Is torturing you really that much fun?’
Well, yes, probably, but mostly it’s because if She gets me the veil tears and They can return. But I can’t tell anyone that, can I? Because this is all my fault. Everyone who dies in this war is dead because of me. Because of that blood oath I swore.
Dom groaned and pressed the heels of his hands into his stinging eyes. Hold on … He lowered his hands. ‘Maybe it’s not that,’ he said slowly, thinking it through as he spoke. ‘Maybe She’s doing it for another reason.’
Lim snapped his fingers. ‘Distraction,’ he said.
Dom nodded. ‘Distraction. She doesn’t want me finding out something else. She’s trying to keep something hidden, hoping that if She occupies the godspace in my head, the Dancer won’t be able to get in and tell me what I need to know.’ Rillirin sat up straight, breaking contact with his ribs, and cold flowed in between them.
‘Something about this whole thing stinks,’ Dom said. ‘We’re missing something.’
‘The situation in Rilporin?’ Sarilla asked. ‘You said poison could burn us all. It could be Rivil.’
‘Could be, but I don’t think so. I think it’s closer; it’s something here. Or coming here.’ He hissed in sudden pain, clapping his hand over his right eye. ‘Guess I’m right, then,’ he muttered, looking away from the tiny candle flame and concentrating on the blackness.
‘Why didn’t you say anything before?’ Sarilla asked.
‘Because I don’t want this to be all I am,’ Dom muttered. ‘And I’m sick of the fucki
ng pity in everyone’s faces.’
‘Perhaps this is your war,’ Sarilla said with uncharacteristic diplomacy. ‘Perhaps you’re not meant to fight physically, but to try and find out the Dark Lady’s secrets.’
‘No,’ Rillirin said before Dom could protest. ‘If She realised what he was doing, She’d tear his soul out and eat it. He can’t; it’s too dangerous.’
Lim locked eyes with Dom and Dom’s heart sank. ‘Is it something you could try?’ he asked. It wasn’t an order, and that just made it worse. Dom could refuse an order.
Rillirin was squeezed against him again and he put his arm around her shoulders, resting his chin on the top of her head. Lim’s eyes were apologetic and firm – he wasn’t retracting the question and Dom would have to answer it.
‘Yes,’ he said and Rillirin tightened both arms around his waist as though trying to squeeze sense into him. He kissed her hair. ‘I can try.’
MACE
Third moon, eighteenth year of the reign of King Rastoth
West Rank headquarters, Cattle Lands, Rilporian border
The horse slithered to a halt outside the gates as the sun rose behind the mountains, bowmen in the towers on either side calling for identification. Mace watched from the tower, wrapped against the cold and eyes burning from lack of sleep.
‘Dalli Shortspear of the Wolves. They’re coming!’ Her voice was faint with distance, but still he heard the rust of fatigue. She’d ridden hard, then.
The sentries waved her through and she urged the horse through the wicket gate as Mace ran down the stairs from the tower. A soldier took the lathered mount and held it still so she could jump from the saddle, staggering as she landed. Mace met her halfway across the killing ground.
‘Lady Shortspear. Dalli. They’re coming?’ Her eyes were moss green and veined and rimmed with red. She wiped mud and sweat from her cheek and nodded.
Godblind Page 25
