Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong) (23 page)

“Is it?” Ellen asked. “Is it your nature?”

“Not mine.”

The Infidel Friend pulled himself out of the water and came to his feet. Ellen gasped, and stepped back.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

Damn, I forgot.

Even in the presence of a lady, the man showed no shame.

“Ellen,” Aaron told her, “you should avert your eyes.”

She blushed and did so.

Aaron turned back to the Infidel Friend. “Get your clothes on.”

“They’re wet,” the infidel pointed out.

“Now.”

The Infidel Friend wrapped his bandages with laborious care, tying them off expertly with his teeth as if he had done this a thousand times before.

“Where’d you hear that story?” Arturus asked.

“Why, have you heard it?” the prisoner asked as he
gingerly pulled on his pants.

“No.” There was a catch in the boy’s voice.

“You want to know if the Infidel told it to me, don’t you, boy? You wonder if I’m just quoting some ancient Sanskrit tablet, or if it’s one of the stories from the book of Gehennic Law.”

“Is it?”

“No, I saw it on an episode of
Star Trek
.”

Ellen burst out laughing.

“We go now.” Aaron said, not amused.

Michael Baker ascended the church steps. He felt as if he was carrying a pack full of lead. He tugged at the huge church door, which opened easily on greased hinges.

Dyitzu fat. The doors to the house of God are greased with the fat of devils.

He walked into the church.

Father Klein was sitting in one of the pews.

“Are you always praying?” Michael asked.

Klein stirred and stood. “No, I just sleep with my hands like that,” he said, cracking a smile, “makes me look more pious.”

Michael snorted. “Funny.”

“So, First Citizen, leader of Harpsborough and protector of her people, it has been some time since we have talked, just the two of us.”

“I came for advice,” Michael admitted. “I need to know what to do with the Infidel Friend.”

“You’ve already spoken with Mancini about this?”

Michael nodded and took a seat on the front pew.

Father Klein sat back down beside him. “And what did he say?”

“Kill him.”

“Sounds like Mancini. Well, you wouldn’t be here if you had no doubts about doing so.”

Michael shook his head and looked up at the pillars. One of the church’s crosses cast its shadow upon him, covering his face as he looked up. “Tell me, Father, what would you do?”

“Mercy is a beautiful thing, Mike. The way we treat our prisoners speaks volumes about us. Remember though, that mercy is by definition the suspension of justice. It would not be just of us to let him go that he might terrorize or kill other people.”

“Does it even matter? I mean, we’re all damned anyway.”

“That’s an excuse and you know it. We have all been good at times, not because we wanted to, but because we knew God was watching. God could tell, Mike. That’s why we’re here. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just a spit in the cosmic bucket, but I want to be a good man. I may not be able to be redeemed in Hell, but I want to try. Part of that trying is minimizing suffering. The sooner we die here, the sooner we suffer. So yes, it matters.”

“So he dies?”

“I can’t give you a good answer, Mike. Maybe this one’s different than the rest of the Infidel Friend, but it’s a gamble you take if you set him free. I wish we could afford to keep him locked up forever somewhere. Somewhere where he couldn’t hurt anyone.

“Now this shouldn’t change your decision, and I’m sure Davel told you this, but I feel I must too. If you kill one, the rest may come. Our old village was taken, Mike, after we left the Carrion, and you and the others had gone upriver to live. It was taken by three people, they slaughtered almost the entire village. Just three Infidel Friend.”

“There may not be any others.”

Father Klein closed his eyes, and dug at his eyes with his fingers. “Remember Benson?”

“Yeah,” Mike answered, “Corpsedus
t
. .
.
”

“I know you thought that it was someone in the Fore, maybe in conjunction with someone in the village. Someone intent on stealing from you, perhaps. But that isn’t the only possibility, Mike. Even the Infidel Friend would have a hard time attacking this place. There’s only one entrance. It would be hard to break through. They’d need a distraction.”

Mike leaned back in the pew and looked up to the large cross on the far wall. “I hadn’t thought of that. But that was before we found the infidel.”

“You’re assuming he wasn’t here to scout us out. They might be coming anyway, Mike, no matter what you do.”

The infidel moved more quickly, enlivened, perhaps, by his brief immersion in the river. Aaron could hear the ruckus just a few turns away from the entryway chamber. The buzz of the village had an anxious tone.

The guards had worried expressions on their faces.

“Johnny,” Aaron said to one of the hunters. “What’s going on?”

“Julian is missing.”

Damn.

Aaron drew his pistol and leveled it at the infidel. “Are your people responsible for this?”

“Can’t be.” The infidel shook his head. “I
’ll not say others aren’t coming, but they aren’t here yet.”

Can I trust anything he says?

“You’re in this village too, now,” Aaron told him. “If we starve, you starve.”

“I swear it, on the Infidel himself. I came this far south to check on the settling. I was scouting on my own.”

Jesus.

“Turi,” Aaron asked, “do you know if Galen’s home?”

“He should be.”

“Good, we’re going to need his help.”

Arturus found it odd to see Aaron sitting in their home. He felt that the Lead Hunter’s presence signified something important. Rick had pulled up an extra barrel for Aaron to sit on and was nice enough to provide everyone with wooden cups—whose water, of course, Arturus had been asked to fetch. He had been in such a hurry to hear the conversation that he had almost pulled himself into the Thames while he was filling the urn. He was still panting a little bit, even now, which seemed unbecoming at the dinner table. Fortunately, none of the adults seemed to notice or care.

“How much food does Julian pull in for you?” Rick was asking.

“That gets right to it, doesn’t it?” Aaron said. “It’s true, we are worried about the food. Michael’s orders to me are that this mission can be finished without Julian, but it can’t be finished without finding his devilwheat cache. There’s no urgency for the food since Harpsborough is fat on spider eggs right now, and I didn’t jog all the way here because I thought the devilwheat was going to go somewhere. I’m after Julian. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about anything else right now, no matter what Michael ordered me to do.”

Arturus watched as Rick nodded and drank deeply from his cup.

The still man, he was the one who traded us these cups.

“No shame in those orders,” Galen said. “Your people need to eat. That’s Michael’s responsibility.”

Aaron nodded. “This mission won’t stop
until we find where he was getting his devilwheat, that’s true. But Galen, I’m not asking your help for that. I want your help finding the boy. We’ll be looking for the wheat, sure, but only because we think that’ll help find Julian.”

Arturus chewed on his lip. He didn’t like the idea that Julian wasn’t more important than the food he provided. The idea of a rescue sounded so much more noble than a hunt for resources.

Because you’re fed. Because you’re not like those villagers in Harpsborough who will die if this devilwheat isn’t found.

“It’s going to be tough, though,” Aaron said, gazing at the curious machinery connected to the battery.

“How long has he been missing?” Rick asked.

“Maybe two days, by now. Things have been so busy in the village with the spider food that we didn’t really notice. But that’s not why I say it’s going to be tough.”

“Why then?” Arturus broke in.

He almost clapped his hands over his mouth. This wasn’t his conversation to speak in. He was an outsider, a child lucky enough to overhear important information at his parents’ table. Aaron, however, answered his question without a pause.

“We’ve looked for it before, while Julian was in the village. Michael Baker wanted me to do it. It wasn’t a very complete search, but we tried it a couple times. Didn’t get any leads. You can’t go telling anyone in the village this. The villagers wouldn’t like to hear that the Fore wants to know where everyone’s stashes are. Even a lot of the Citizens don’t know.”

“But you know,” Galen stated, leaning his elbows on the table.

“Of course, I was the one who went looking. We weren’t going to take any of it away from him. He pretty much taxes himself by giving everything to the Citizens for cheap. It’s just that he brings in so much food that Michael felt we had to know. Particularly now that the devils have all but abandoned this place.”

“I’ll help you. How big is the boy’s range? Do you know?”

Aaron nodded. “It’s on the Harpsborough side of the Kingsriver, east of the road fork. I know almost exactly where he goes. I followed him as far as the fork once, and he came back within a couple of hours. Area’s small but tricky. Lots of tall and short rooms full of stone blocks. Lots of uneven ceilings. Plenty of places where there could be hidden passages that go up or down.”

Galen pushed his cheek out with his tongue and used his thumb to scratch that part of his beard. “I know the place.”

“So you’ll help us?” Aaron asked.

“Yeah. I’ll want to bring Turi, though.”

Arturus almost choked on his water. Carefully, he placed the cup down and cleared his throat. “I’d love to help.”

Do I want to help? I could get shot. This is a job for hunters, not little boys.

Aaron raised his eyebrows.

“Boy’s got a keen eye,” Galen said. “And he’s just small enough that he’ll be able to scoot down tight passages that we’d have trouble with.”

Aaron nodded in agreement.

Galen thinks I should go.

The thought filled him with pride.

“Wait outside,” Galen told Aaron. “Turi and I will gather our things.”

Aaron got up and walked out of the room.

But what if I do get shot? What if I make too much noise and bring the devils down on us. Galen won’t ever let me do this again. He might not let me go to Harpsborough.

“Your rifle clean?” Rick asked Arturus.

“Of course it is,” Galen answered for him. “Turi’s old enough to keep his rifle clean.”

I could say no. I could say I’m not ready. Galen wouldn’t call me a coward.

But he’d be disappointed, Arturus knew. And there were other reasons he wanted to go besides just being an adult.

Julian’s one of us.

They met Aaron’s hunters at the fork. He had chosen five of his favorite men for the rescue. Duncan and Fitch were there, who Arturus knew had become famous lately from the spider expedition, along with Avery and Johnny Huang. Arturus recognized the face of the other guard, but didn’t know his name. He wondered if he should have.

“Why’s the kid coming?” Avery asked within seconds of Arturus’ entrance.

“He’s got good eyes,” Aaron said.

“It’s not like there’s any devils around, Avery.” The fifth guard’s voice was strangely familiar to him.

Patrick. Patrick is his name. Molly used to say his voice was sexy.

“Through there?” Galen asked, pointing down the fork marked with a purple stone.

The thought of heading near the Carrion sent Arturus’ heart rushing.

“Nope, this way.” Aaron motioned down the other corridor.

Arturus breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Aaron went on. “We’re going to break up into two groups, so keep your weapons safetied. That means you too, Duncan.”

“Funny.”

“He’s been missing for two days or so. We’re probably not going to find him alive. Hopefully we will. Maybe he just took a vacation, I don’t know. Julian’s a little guy, so check the corners of the ceilings and the floor. I’ve been through here a few times myself, and I’ve never seen any devilwheat stash. Not even a little one, let alone one big enough to feed us. My guess is he found a chute which leads up or down. Michael says we had better find it before the spider food runs out, or he won’t have a vote about our different food rations. Maybe we can convince him that we should get ten percent of Julian’s stash rather than the Fore.”

“Good,” Patrick said. “If that’s true, I’ll shoot the little fucker on sight.”

Arturus disliked him already. He looked towards Galen, but the warrior didn’t seem to care.

Not that I’d be able to tell if he did.

“Galen, myself, Patrick and Avery will check on the far side. Duncan, Fitch, Johnny, and Turi, check near Harpsborough. Two shots if you find him or the wheat. Anything more or less, and we’ll assume you need some help. And remember, safeties on.”

Aaron stared Duncan down.

“Who’d care if I fucked up and shot an infidel?” Duncan asked. “Huh? Who’d care?”

“If I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it.”

“And if you were Michael Baker, I’d expect I’d do it, too.”

Fitch sucked air through his teeth. Avery crossed his arms.

“Look—” Avery began.

“And, if I were Michael Baker,” Aaron responded over Avery, “I’d have the kid already home, found a second store of devilwheat, and fucked Kylie twice by now.” The men laughed at that. “So unfortunately we’re going to have to get a bit sweaty. You good?”

Duncan nodded. “I’m good.”

Aaron knows what he’s doing.

But then he thought of Aaron and Alice, spending time together. He imagined them kissing. Usually he felt for Alice in his chest. Now he felt for her in his throat.

Jealousy.

“Jealousy is God’s sin. Pride, the Devil’s,” Galen had told him. “We’re humans, so we’re lucky enough to have both.”

They divided into their separate groups of four and began their search.

Huang was the quietest as they marched through the endless winding corridors, earning Arturus’ respect immediately.

“Should we call out for him?” Arturus asked the group.

“No, boy,” Fitch said.

“There’s a reason Julian didn’t come back,” Duncan whispered, “and we have no idea what that was. Maybe he’s lost. Maybe he broke his leg. But maybe something got him. You know, an Icanitzu, a Minotaur, maybe even a Nephilim. You want to call those things down on our heads?”

Arturus shook his head.

Soon they paused at Duncan’s direction. The room they stopped in was red, dim, and had uneven brick walls interspersed with jutting formations of natural rock.

“Let’s check this place,” Duncan said. “Wouldn’t be surprised to find a tunnel here.”

Arturus ran his fingers along the stone as he searched the uneven wall. He noticed Huang standing next to him.

“How do I say your name?” he asked the hunter.

Arturus’ hand glowed, colored with a fiendish cast as he ran it over the red stone. He looked for disruptions in the light. This was the best way, Galen had taught him, to search for passages in illuminated rock.

“Johnny,” the man answered.

Arturus laughed as softly as he could. “Not that name.”

“Whowang.”

“But that’s not how everyone else says it.”

Johnny shrugged. “They mistook me for my cousin.”

“Did not.”

“Sure did. His name was Johnny Wang. It’s just they couldn’t tell because we all look alike.”

Arturus laughed again.

“God made everyone unique and special, Turi. He just got tired when he got to China.”

“Quiet,” Fitch ordered.

“Found something,” Duncan reported.

He had climbed up nearly to the ceiling on one of the sections of natural rock. The right half of his face was lit up from the light of the wall.

“Looks like someone can crawl through here.”

At first it was hard to see the small opening, but as Arturus neared it and held a hand up before his eyes to block out the glare of the red rock, he could see the passageway. It was a small one. A dyitzu would have to struggle to fit in there.

“Can you check it out, Turi?” Johnny asked.

I have to be brave.

Duncan and Fitch helped him climb up the stone.

It’s tighter than I thought.

He looked into the hole. The red light of the stone slowly faded away as the passage continued. He passed his pack back to Johnny, and after eyeballing the passageway a little more, handed his rifle to the hunter as well.

Arturus stood on Fitch’s back, drew his pistol, and crawled in.

“I may need a torch,” he said back over his shoulder.

His voice sounded muffled in the passageway.

“Let us know,” Fitch answered, his head framed by the square entrance. “I’ve got a couple. I’ll pass one to you.”

The crawlway was so small that Arturus found it difficult to use his legs to propel himself forward. His knees simply could not bend far enough. His pants were pulled tight by the friction, restricting his movement. The air was warm, and seemed empty. He couldn’t get enough of it.

He placed his pistol down in front of him and started pushing it ahead of himself.

Is it getting tighter?

Johnny’s voice echoed down the crawlway, but it was too soft for Arturus to make out. He couldn’t turn his head back to look. He seemed to have been talking to Duncan or Fitch.