Rise of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 2)

by Jason Halstead

  “What? No. Who are they?”

  “Look around—there are many everywhere you go. The thing is, the woman is upset because the man doesn’t change. The man is upset because the woman does.”

  Amra fell silent and, when he risked a glance back at her, he saw a thoughtful frown on her face. At length, she nodded. “I want to pinch you for being rude, but I think I see something in your words.”

  He chuckled. “It’s funny, because it’s true as often as not. No fault to either partner, merely a misunderstanding. To be fair, many a man has risen to greatness because of the woman in his life. Even if that wasn’t what he wanted, that’s what he became.”

  “And you never wish to risk becoming more?”

  “I fear I don’t have it in me to be someone better,” Namitus said. He shrugged. “Whether that’s true or not, I also fear hurting someone with noble intentions in their heart.”

  Amra considered his words and said, “In a way, this makes you even more likeable.”

  “Truly, I am cursed twice over.” Namitus moaned.

  This time Amra pinched him.

  * * * *

  Over the following two days, the hills grew taller and the roads more difficult. Namitus’s shoulder grew tense again, but as the sun began to drop behind them they saw signs of civilization beyond heavily guarded merchants. For one, spears lined the road with the rotting heads of both humans and humanoid races.

  Birds and insects feasted on the remains, plucking eyes and tearing tissue before shrieking at the disruption the riders passing by caused them. Skulls, many broken but some still whole, littered the ground at the base of the poles.

  “This is horrific!” Amra whispered. “And the stench!”

  Namitus grunted and looked back at the others. “Keep your wits about you. Don’t make anybody mad.”

  “These are trophies,” Gor said. “Bounties.”

  “What’s that mean?” Allie asked.

  “They’ve done something to upset the lord of Rosekeep or more likely, someone with enough money put a bounty on their heads.”

  “Anybody?” Allie asked.

  Gor nodded. “If you’ve got the gold, yes.”

  “That’s horrible!” Allie said.

  Namitus glanced at Amra and winked at her. “See, you two think alike. You really should be friends.”

  “Stop it,” Amra hissed.

  Namitus shrugged and raised his voice for the others. “All the same then, let’s not give anyone a reason to put a bounty on our heads.”

  Nods and grunts showed they agreed with him. He turned back and put the poles behind them, leaving a few hundred feet to the closed gates. They rode up to it and stopped outside. Guards manned towers beside the gates and, he could see, walked the twenty-foot wall that ringed the keep.

  “Ho there! We’re travelers from the north seeking passage.”

  “Then pass on by,” one of the guards called down. Another guard laughed at his rude response.

  “Passage in,” Namitus corrected. “We have business to conduct.”

  “What sort of business?”

  “The profitable sort,” Namitus said.

  “Why won’t they let us in?” Amra hissed.

  Gor moved his horse closer. “Vultures still here?” he called up.

  The guard disappeared from view for a moment. When he returned, he asked, “Why?”

  “Got business with them. The kind of business that they’re very interested in. We’ve got news for Ramesh.”

  Namitus glanced at Gor but the warrior kept his gaze up at the guards in the tower. The guards conferred for a moment and then the one speaking to them called down. “Stand back from the gate.”

  Gor grunted and motioned for everyone to move back. Namitus pulled his horse around and circled them back to give some room. Once they’d backed up a dozen feet, the doors creaked open on their heavy iron hinges. Both swung out towards them and revealed an iron portcullis that had been cranked up. The entrance was a full ten feet deep, forcing a chokepoint barely wide enough for a wagon to fit through. Four guards wearing chain armor stood in the gate. On the inside, four more waited with crossbows cocked.

  “Ramesh?” Namitus asked.

  “Wasn’t sure he’d still be with them,” Gor admitted. “Either he still is, or he isn’t and we’re in a barrel after all.”

  Namitus chuckled. “Well, at least we’ll know.”

  The guards motioned for them and Namitus put his heels to his horse. They rode forward and passed between the guards and into the keep with glares from the soldiers, but no more troubles. Once they were through, the guards pulled the gates back and barred them. The portcullis stayed up as they returned to their posts.

  “Now what?” Namitus asked as he looked around. The courtyard was small, large enough for half a dozen wagons arranged in an orderly fashion. From there he could see a smithy, a building that had the looks of a barracks, a baker’s shop with an outdoor stone oven, a tavern, and a healer’s building. Along the walls to the east of the gate, stables were built.

  “We can’t take the horses in any farther,” Gor said. “I expect the Vultures have one of the private houses turned into their headquarters. We can find out there,” he said, pointing at the tavern. The sign had a broken sword on it and the words Broken Blade carved into it.

  “Good enough for me,” Namitus said. He glanced at everyone and then tapped Amra’s knee with his hand. He slid off the horse and offered his hand to her. She took it, smiling and blushing a little, and stretched her legs after she landed beside him. “Head into that tavern. I’ll board the horses.”

  The others dismounted and followed Gor. Corian hesitated and then nodded to his sister. “I’ll help Namitus,” he offered.

  Namitus hid his groan. After the troll’s disclosure, he’d admitted he was part elf, but hadn’t said anything more than that. They’d been on the trail and too busy. Now, of all times, looked like the end of his peace and quiet.

  “Thanks,” Namitus said as Corian led three of the horses alongside the three Namitus had the reins of.

  Corian grunted and left it at that. They walked the horses to the stables and haggled a price with the stablemaster that Namitus was sure was outrageous. He paid it without complaint and turned away.

  “I’ve always wondered about half-blooded elves,” Corian said as they walked. “What with my sister’s bastard daughter.”

  Namitus grunted, hiding the sudden desire to punch the elf in the face.

  “I can’t say I approve or agree of a lot of your methods, but you are a man to contend with. What elven blood you have serves you well.”

  “You know, I’ve danced with some arrogant men and women in my time. Holy and righteous or evil and tyrannical. I can’t recall ever meeting anyone as conceited as you are. I’m sure I have—I just can’t remember such a meeting right now.”

  Corian’s eyes went from being big and round to narrow and angry. “I compliment you and this is the response I get?”

  “I know a lot of humans and even a dwarf who are ten times the man I am. I feel pretty comfortable saying that even I have you beat.”

  Corian’s lips moved and noises came out, but they were half-formed words that he couldn’t turn into proper thoughts.

  “I’ve watched men stand and fight when they had nothing left to give. They fought and fell because if they broke, someone else would die. They made the ultimate sacrifice for their wives, their children, their sisters, and their brothers. You don’t strike me as that type. You’d let the rest of the world burn as long as they weren’t elves. And even then, if you came out on top it might be okay.”

  “No!” Corian managed to finally get a word out. He stood still and glared at Namitus. “I risked it all to save my sister and Gildor’s daughter. And elf and a human! And what of you? A thief and a con artist, you claimed.”

  Namitus ignored his deflection. “I don’t know much about elves, I’ll grant you that, but I’ll have you know that you’
re not better than any of those people. You talk down to them and disregard your tasks as if they are beneath you. That’s not the case.”

  “I have done my share,” Corian defended.

  “Try doing more,” Namitus suggested. “Prove to them that they mean something to you.”

  “I’m here—isn’t that proof?”

  “Not by the longest shot your bow can take,” Namitus said.

  Corian glared at him and then glanced away. “You don’t know who your ancestors were?”

  “What?”

  “You said you don’t know much about elves.”

  Namitus chewed the words over before he admitted, “No, I don’t. I’ve seen wild elves once or twice, and a rare elf in passing in Mira or the realms north of there. My mother was half elf, but she never spoke of them.”

  Corian nodded. “My people frown on children of mixed blood. It is impure.”

  “See, there you go again,” Namitus said. He glanced around and hissed. “Keep in mind you’re in a place where the next closest elf, outside of your sister, is hundreds or thousands of miles away.”

  “I’m telling you what my people believe,” Corian growled. He took a deep breath and let it out. “And yes, I once believed that way too. I’ve learned much since I left my homeland. Gildor opened my eyes to many things. Gor and Allie continue to do so. Even you, when you’re not busy trying to push me aside.”

  Namitus stiffened. Was he doing that? He relegated Corian to a support role whenever he could, but he was an archer. Someone best suited to being in the background. And he tried to keep him away from him for other, complicated, reasons. “You’re right, I do. I will try to be better.”

  Corian raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a good start. For both of us then.”

  Namitus nodded. “It is. Come, let’s find out where we need to go. I suspect things are going to get interesting very soon.”

  They turned and walked into the tavern side by side. Gor and the others sat at one of the many empty tables, drinks before them already. Namitus moved to the spot that Amra had made sure was available beside her and took the full cup she handed him. He sniffed it and smelled the warm ale. A moment later, it was washing the dust of the road out of his mouth.

  “Any word?” he asked.

  Gor nodded. “Gone. To the south, some ruins.”

  “Inhabited ruins or...”

  “Yes, of a sort,” Gor said. “Old signal towers line many of the hills so they can warn of threats. Most are broken down, but some remain. One of those they’ve gone to clear out.”

  “Clear out?”

  “Taken. A pack of weres.”

  “Weres?” Amra asked.

  “Shapeshifters,” Gor said. “Men who turn into wolves, rats, cats, bears, and other beasts by light of the moon.”

  “Saints,” Namitus muttered. “Such thing is common down here?”

  “Common? No,” Gor answered and took a drink. Namitus had no idea if it was water or ale, but the scowl on Gor’s lips hinted at the former. “But there are several packs that roam the hills and forests. Mixed packs, at that, though usually a bear or a wolf leads them.”

  Namitus took another drink. “I’ve heard of this curse, but never known someone who has it. Isn’t it spread by being bitten by one of them?”

  “It can be,” he said.

  “Can we wait until they get back?” Allie asked.

  Namitus considered the question and then shook his head. “I think not. Time is against us.”

  “They have potions here that are said to protect a man from the bite of a were. As long as they’re drank before the first full moon comes.”

  “Do they work?”

  Gor shrugged. “I think so, but I’ve never tested one myself.”

  “Sounds like it’s worth it to me,” he said.

  The bartender emerged from behind the bar with a platter. He brought it and set it on the table next to theirs, and then delivered plates and bowls filled with steaming meat and stew.

  “No barmaid?” Namitus joked.

  The barkeep looked at him and shook his head. “You’ve brought more women than Rosekeep has seen in a fortnight.”

  Namitus winced and paid the man for the food. “If it helps, you do a fine job. I imagine you’d look good with a barmaid’s skirts on, too.”

  The barkeep chuckled and studied one of the odd coins before he bit it and gathered his platter.

  “You’re so odd,” Allie said while staring at Namitus.

  Namitus grinned and bowed his head. He lifted his hat and then sat it back on his head.

  “The hat doesn’t help,” she added.

  Amra snickered and shot him a quick look before she turned on her stew and dug into it. Namitus did likewise with his and watched Gor set to devouring a plate of steaming venison steaks. Conversation fell short while they ate. It had been days since a proper meal had filled their bellies.

  “I think the hat looks good,” Amra whispered after they pushed their bowls back and began to relax.

  Namitus smiled and then turned his attention to the others. “It’s early enough yet. Shall we ride on?”

  A chorus of groans was his answer.

  “I recommend it,” Gor said, vetoing the others.

  “Why?” Corian asked. He caught Namitus’s look and softened his tone. “If these lands are so dangerous, is it wise to risk it?”

  “You heard the barkeep,” Gor said. “No women in a fortnight. We’ve got three of them, all young and tender looking.”

  Namitus nodded. “The sort of men in a place like this are the men who like to take what they want.”

  Gor set his cup down and wagged his finger at Namitus. “That, sadly, is the truth of it. The difference between the men in this keep and the weres is that the shapeshifters will admit they’re part animal.”

  Corian pushed his stew back and glanced around the table. “Well then, let’s saddle up and be on our way then?”

  Namitus smirked. Maybe the elf had some merit to him after all. Maybe. He suspected he was running out of time to find out, so maybe giving him a little more rope was the way to go. Either he’d tie it off and help them all, or hang himself with it.

  Chapter 11

  “Namitus!” Corian hissed.

  Namitus turned in his saddle enough to look back. He raised an eyebrow, confused and instantly wary by the young elf’s tone.

  Corian pointed to the ground. “Tracks. They look recent and I’ve not seen their like before,” he continued in a loud whisper.

  Namitus looked at the tracks and nodded. He saw them, now, but might never have noticed them if not for Corian. “Good eyes,” he told him. “Just the one or...?”

  Corian looked around, his eyes narrowing as he began to wave his finger. “Several,” he said. “I can’t be sure, but they all look fresh. The grass would have popped back up and covered the marks in the ground otherwise.”

  “What’s that mean?” Amra asked. “Are we following someone else on the road?”

  “Someone with clawed feet,” Namitus said. He felt her stiffen behind him and slide her hands farther around his sides. “Several someones.”

  “Should we wait?” she asked. “Let them get ahead of us?”

  Namitus turned back and motioned for Gor to ride up next to him. “You’re sure this is the way to the ruins?”

  Gor shrugged. “It’s been a long time, but I think so. Another hour’s ride, maybe less.”

  Namitus nodded and said, “Then we’re all headed in the same direction. Let’s hope we make it before the Vultures are being eaten by vultures.”

  Gor snorted. “A pack of ratkin won’t take them.”

  “Ratkin?” Amra asked.

  “Cross a goblin with a rat and that’s what you get,” Gor said. “Furry and nasty little beasts.”

  Amra’s face twisted in disgust.

  “Then let’s be ready. If we can take them from behind by surprise, we might build some goodwill with the Vultures.”

/>   Gor snorted again but kept his counsel to himself.

  “Too late!” Corian cried. The elf sprang from his saddle, startling his horse even as he landed beside it.

  Namitus watched Corian and then turned to see what the elf had reacted to. Snarls and squeaks announced a rush of brown shapes scrambling towards them on two and four legs. Several had short swords and daggers. A few bore small wooden or metal shields.

  “Stay on the horse!” Namitus snapped over his shoulder before he lifted one leg and slid off to land on the ground. He drew his scimitar and turned to face the small horde rushing them. Gor moved to Namitus’s right, giving himself room enough to swing his axe. Allie rushed to the right of Gor as the first of the ratkin running on four legs reached them.

  The ratmen leapt, gnarly fingers with sharp talons extended. Namitus heard grunts and curses from his companions. Metal struck flesh with the wet slaps and muffled cracking of bones. The storyteller spun and cut, hewing one ratkin’s arm off near his shoulder before another grabbed onto his leathers from behind and tried to yank him to the ground.

  Namitus staggered on his feet, struggling to keep his balance at the same time he tried to knock free the ratman trying to trip him up. Squeals and blood filled the air. A second ratkin crashed into his leg and forced his knee to buckle. He fell to his knee and one hand. He chanced a wild swing with his sword and felt resistance, but a second wave of four more of the ratkin were swarming him already, weapons raised to carve him up for dinner.

  Namitus cried out as the ratkin on his leg bit through his leathers and into his hip. He punched down at him, pushing the vicious creature back enough so Namitus could draw his dagger and plunge it into his neck. The ratkin scrambled back and ran away, teetering and crashing into a sword-wielding ratkin.

  Allie screamed from nearby. She wasn’t crying for help, but it was a scream in itself. Namitus swung his sword in front of him and tried to regain his feet so he could look. The ratman clinging to his back climbed higher and sank his teeth into Namitus’s shoulder. His armor kept him safe from the short but sharp teeth, but it was only a matter of time.