The sense of hostility grew, making it harder for Nyla to look straight ahead. Then the feeling of hostility no longer came from the asm thicket. Now the sense emanated from a patch of tall reeds that grew beside the foul water.
The knowledge that this someone changed locations made Nyla’s stomach churn with excitement and with fear. She was about to glance away from the reeds, to entice the last little bit. That’s when Thag surprised her. The pirate captain rose from the reeds and stepped in front of a poisonous frond, which meant the frond guarded his back from Sheba. Nyla grimaced. She was glad it was Thag, but she’d wanted him to rush her, to use all his concentration so Sheba could launch a swift attack from behind. As an assassin, Nyla cared nothing about a fair fight, but for achieving her objective in the safest manner possible.
“I’ve decided to make this easy on both of us,” Thag growled in his heavy captain’s voice. “Jump off your boat and wade away, and I’ll grant you your life.”
The pirate captain was a big man, with powerful sloping shoulders and a shaggy head of hair like the bovine beasts from which he’d taken his name. His ripped red tunic was belted with leather, and angry insect bites dotted his neck and arms. He looked exhausted and had bloodshot eyes.
“You have offended Gog,” Nyla said.
Using his forearm, Thag wiped grime from his forehead. “I piss on Gog and his sensitivities.” Thag grinned wearily. He was missing a front upper tooth. “I’m sure my words surprise you. But I’m finished with Gog and I’m finished with his city of arse-lickers. You’re one of his slinking killers, I know. But you’ve lost the element of surprise. Be a wise girl and leave me the boat. Otherwise, I’m going to kill you.”
“You have become a stench in Gog’s nostrils,” Nyla said.
Thag scowled, and with the sound of sliding steel, he drew his short sword. It looked small in his big hand, and it looked very sharp. It was said that Thag had slain eleven men in duels and likely thrice that while swarming onto merchant ships.
“Don’t you wonder why one like me who stood high in Gog’s esteem have decided to leave him?” asked Thag. He searched her eyes, and Thag’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. “Gog has gone insane. He rages at the world and lashes out at those who do him the greatest service.”
“You are adding further blasphemy to your crimes,” said Nyla.
Thag stared at her with his bloodshot eyes. He was big, he was strong and he was vicious, but he had been on the run for days. He snarled as he switched the short sword to his left hand. Then he reached into his tunic, pulling out a hurling knife by the tip. “I can plant this in your heart! Then you’ll be dead, floating face-first in the slime. Or you can jump off your boat and live. I’m not warning you again.”
Nyla calculated swiftly. Gog had given her precise instructions concerning Thag. Even more troubling, Shamgar’s god did seem to be given over to greater rages than usual. It would be unwise to fail him. That blocking frond behind Thag—
Nyla jumped off the rat-boat, splashing into the slime and wading away from Thag. She turned sideways in order to present the smallest target possible. Then she held her pole of tem wood between them, using it as a shield, slender as it was.
“You’re wise to fear me,” said Thag.
Nyla kept her eyes on the knife. His repeated offers of life surprised her. She didn’t understand that, and things she failed to understand made her cautious. It was another of her secrets, perhaps her most useful. Was another of his men sneaking around behind her?
“Seek out the Nebo tribes,” Thag said. “Tell them you’re Gog’s minion. One of them should be greedy enough to guide you home.”
Nyla gave him a slow nod. If only he would move away from the poisonous frond.
“And tell Gog I died,” Thag said, “and was eaten by a crocodile. It will save us both unneeded trouble.”
“Yes,” Nyla said.
The big man took a step toward the rat-boat. Then he shouted, and his burly arm snapped forward. The knife flew at her, speeding the short distance.
Nyla had no time to shift, but she blocked with the pole, deflecting the knife just enough. The razor-sharp blade cut a hairline scratch across her cheek instead of embedding in her throat. Then the knife disappeared behind her, plunking into the water.
Thag shouted a war cry as he splashed into the slime. Maybe he intended to wade past the boat and cut her. Maybe he just wanted to scare her away. A snarling Sheba never gave him the opportunity.
Thag twisted around, and he shouted, stabbing his sword at the leopard. With her claws extended, Sheba jumped from a nearby tree. The graceful beast sailed through the air and over the poisonous frond. The leopard twisted as the sword cut her side. Then she thudded against Thag’s shoulders, raking open his flesh. Her weight knocked the pirate captain off his feet, and together the two splashed into the murky waters beside the rat-boat.
Nyla was already wading forward. “Move,” she said, hip-checking Sheba. The leopard bounded out of the water, hissing, and shaking her front paws, obviously trying to dry them.
Nyla whipped the strangling cord from her belt and threaded it around Thag’s meaty throat. Bubbles rose from his mouth and he desperately pried at the cord. In seconds, he began to thrash. Nyla rode him, noting how the blood from his shoulders stained the waters and her leathers. He attempted several wrestling moves, but she held all the advantages now. Soon, Thag slumped unconscious in the water.
The pirate captain was big, but in Nyla was the blood of the high. As such things went she was of the fifth generation. Being fifth generation meant her celestial heritage was badly diluted. But she still had abilities and strength not granted to those of lesser origin.
She dragged Thag onto shore and bound him tightly. Blood seeped from his wounds. Those would likely rot if he stayed out here, but unluckily for him he wouldn’t stay. Gog wished to receive Thag alive. Flesh-tenders would seal the pirate’s wounds and ensure he came fit and lively into Gog’s merciless care.
As Nyla hoisted Thag into the rat-boat, the wet leopard slunk back and forth on shore, snarling and lashing her tail, and licking at the blood dripping from her cut side. From in the boat, Thag groaned, and his eyelids flickered. Nyla watched impassively. The pirate captain glanced right and left, and seemed to understand where he lay. He struggled, and soon discovered the uselessness of that. He twisted his head and spied her then.
“Untie me,” he said in a raspy voice.
After the sting of the strangling cord, few could talk afterward. Most were dead.
“Gog’s wishes trump your own,” Nyla said.
Thag struggled harder, rocking the rat-boat. Sweat began to ooze from him. His wounds bled more freely. Finally, he panted. He seemed like a beast then, trapped and afraid.
“You don’t understand,” he rasped.
“Make me understand,” Nyla said. She planned on building up his hopes until he was ready to ransom himself. Thag’s greatest haul had been a moon-barge of Dishon, and the rubies, opals and emeralds pried from the vessel’s inner chamber. None of those treasures had been on Thag’s galley or hidden in his former fortress in Shamgar. It was likely he’d buried the gems for safekeeping. Nyla planned to work on his fears until he told her the whereabouts of his stolen treasure. She would collect, and then she would hand him over to Shamgar’s god. Only a fool trusted an assassin of the Order of Gog to turn against her paymaster. Fortunately, the prospect of imminent death or frightful torture made fools of most people—even hardened reavers like Thag.
“I know your ways,” whispered Thag. “You think you’re clever. And you think because you’re of the blood that you’re immune to Gog’s rages.”
“I’d worry about yourself, if I were you,” Nyla said.
Thag gave a strangled laugh. “I’m doomed, but so are you, assassin. They say Gog has lost his sight, and it has driven him insane. He destroys those nearest him because his rages are cold and merciless, devouring his devourers. Why do you t
hink he turned against me?”
“You are a worm who displeased Gog. Think about that as we travel to Shamgar.”
“You tread a poisoned path, assassin. You think to please Gog, but he will devour you in turn. I could almost pity you.”
“You’d do better to think how much your life is worth,” Nyla said.
“Ransom myself by paying you?” Thag sneered.
“It’s me or Gog.”
“You are doomed, assassin. Gog—”
Nyla kicked Thag in the side, stilling his speech. Then she gagged him. It was many days to Shamgar. She would let him marinate in his fears. Then he might be ready to sing a different song.
Nyla picked up the pole of tem wood and whistled for Sheba. After the leopard boarded, Nyla pushed off the muddy, bloody bank, beginning the long trek back to the pirate city.
Gog (Lost Civilizations: 4) Page 21
