The Bones of the Old Ones (Dabir and Asim) (31 page)

Enkidu stepped through and halted a few paces in front of us, looking to both left and right. It was almost like watching a feral animal suddenly on the alert. We followed, weapons at the ready. I was about to ask Dabir if he thought we should activate their magics when Enkidu wheeled to look past us. We pivoted and found Lamashtu standing between us and the exit we’d just left.

She had been so swift when last we met that I’d forgotten how thick she was. Her appearance might almost have been described as matronly save that her eyes gleamed in the darkness like a cat’s.

“Enkidu. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out chasing lions?”

“Erragal called for my help,” he said.

“And so you came, like a good dog.”

“You have gorged yourself, I see,” Enkidu replied calmly. “But I do not mind, sister. We can still be friends.”

I felt a wave of calm flood through me once more. It was good, I thought, to be near Enkidu.

Before us, Lamashtu smiled. “You know that has never worked upon me.”

“I do not wish to hurt any old friends,” he said. “You are outmatched. Withdraw.”

At that she laughed. “Not me, but you,” she said, and at that very moment something round as a barrel and black burst from behind the snowy ruins and hurtled at Enkidu. Our ally was lightning-swift, but even so the largest wooden serpent yet struck into his chest like a club. The attack would have killed a normal man, but he only let out a groan and staggered back.

Lamashtu advanced on us with a wicked smile.

“How did you know we would be here?” Dabir demanded.

“We watched all entrances,” she said simply, “to see the rats flushed out. We had long since learned most of Erragal’s defenses. He hasn’t bothered changing them in centuries.”

She looked as though she meant to say more, and with her distracted I did not think I would have a better opportunity. I drove at her, lifting back the club. She did not move, and I thought surely I would stave in her skull. There was the briefest moment of regret for killing a woman, and then she stopped my arm with a single, effortless lift of her own small hand. My strength and momentum meant nothing—the instant she caught me with her fingers, my swing stopped. She slid back a foot, but was otherwise unfazed.

She then stepped nimbly over the spear haft Dabir swung to trip her. She did not bother looking at him, but smiled into my eyes. “I will take your strength. If I feel merciful when I am done, perhaps I shall kill you. If you beg for it.”

The might of that one hand was astonishing. I could not pull free. Dabir jabbed at her again with the blunt end of his spear. This seemed only to irritate her, for Lamashtu frowned a bit as she caught hold of the haft. Dabir immediately set to tugging on it, uselessly. I lashed out with my foot, but kicking her leg was like striking a tree trunk. I winced; she but looked annoyed and did not even rock backwards.

“Allah preserve us,” Dabir whispered. I dared not look away, but I heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow behind and to right and left. I had the vague impression of lean figures ringing us.

From off to my left I heard terrific grunts and thunks and guessed that Enkidu battled still with the huge wooden serpent. Lamashtu’s eyes still stared into my own, alien and dangerous, and I thought then of Najya’s life ruined by these dark wizards, and Tarif and Jibril, and Abdul and the others, lost or frozen. All that we had endured of late passed swiftly before my memory, aye, even unto the death of brave Alexis, and an anger fired my very soul. It was not the devil of rage; it was a sense of righteous fury that so much evil had been done and that I had not the power to stop it. I wished that I’d had time to run through the form so that I might at least attempt to use the magic in the club as a weapon.

It was as I thought about the movement used to activate the club that its symbols lit with a white-gold brilliance. I had not noticed my weariness until it was lifted from me and astonishing vigor coursed through my muscles. I straightened, grinning. Lamashtu’s expression widened in surprise as I yanked my arm free of her grasp and swung.

Lamashtu’s inhuman speed kept her clear of my strike as she leapt back, but she still cried in pain, for a pulse of white light coursed out from the old weapon. She landed heavily on her side just in front of the open doorway. I had thought Lydia’s farr black, until I saw that of Lamashtu’s, which all but swallowed light.

“How—” Dabir began, but I was already turning to take in the rest of our foes.

Those who had closed upon us were dressed lightly, and possessed Lamashtu’s eerie eyes. Their whites gleamed in the glow put off by the club. For all that their clothes were nicely kept, the way that they stood, crouching with fingers held like talons, they seemed more like beasts. And with the sorcerous sight the club lent me, I saw they were cut from midnight cloth.

“You have but to
think
the form!” I called to Dabir. One of Lamashtu’s fiends sprang, tigerlike, but my blow caved in his head, smashing through bone and tissue. There was a curious lack of blood. My swing carried me through into a second and I broke through shoulder bone. He dropped, screaming, at my booted foot.

Dabir then was at my side, his spear shining, and he drove it through the beast-man’s chest. Our foe wailed, collapsed, and fell into dust.

“A fine strike!” I called to Dabir, who laughed.

The others charged as a mounted figure came round a snowcapped pillar. Even in the darkness a man could perceive the odd stiff gait of the beast and the strange way it held its head. Koury’s stallion. And, from the darkly powerful glow of the rider’s farr, Koury himself. Interestingly, he was not wrapped wholly in darkness.

“Back to back!” I called to Dabir.

So we stood thus as the creatures rushed us, and I fought with a fierce pride, wielding that great club as though it were a simple toy. On they came, and down they fell. The weapon smashed through bone like paper, and its light burned these men born of darkness. I left a field of broken bodies; Dabir, though, pierced their flesh, and those who did not go reeling back disintegrated, leaving only dust and empty garments that fluttered to the ground.

Koury did not leave his horse, but cast down two items from his satchel and wooden men sprang into being.

I saw a red flare of energy from the corner of my eye and risked a glance in time to see Lamashtu wielding a whip of fire. Dabir struck this with his spear. The flame blasted into a rain of sparks, and the sorceress screeched furiously.

Enkidu had triumphed at last over the snake and, holding its tail, lashed its long broken body at the sorceress. She stepped away, but two of her remaining minions were not as agile, and they went sprawling.

Enkidu jumped and landed hard on a nearby beast-man. He grinned at us. His farr was mostly blue and silver.

“Good!” he shouted, laughing. “We shall win this!”

On came the wooden warriors. Up rose the beast-men I had downed, no matter their horrifying wounds. They slunk to the sides, away from me, and I knew they waited until we were distracted. From far behind came a man’s voice raised in a roar of fury and then a string of odd syllables. Two of the nearest beast-men disintegrated in a rain of ash. The others cried out and pulled away.

“Erragal!” Enkidu said with relief.

On my right I saw Lamashtu raise up another whip of flame. Enkidu tossed one of her lackeys at her.

Behind us, Erragal and Lydia had stepped forth from the doorway. His farr blazed with a riot of colors stronger than any others. Lydia unleased a trio of howling ghosts that came surging toward Lamashtu.

This apparently was enough for the death mother, who sneered something in disgust and winked out of existence. The handful of remaining well-dressed beast-men vaulted away over the tumbled walls.

This left only the wooden men Koury had sent forth, which were now returning to him. Lydia’s spirit creatures soared after.

“What are you doing here?” Erragal asked us. We were but ten paces apart, and he had taken a step toward us when snow women flowed forth from the walls all around, dozens upon dozens of them. I started to brace myself for attack when I realized that they didn’t mean any harm at all. They and the beautiful white animal spirits with them were friends.

I couldn’t understand why Erragal and Lydia looked so upset as a giant wolf loped up to greet them, or why they lashed the spirit elephants with magical fire. They had not come to overwhelm, but to welcome.

“Fight, Asim!” Dabir urged.

I felt Enkidu’s comforting hand on my shoulder. He stepped toward Dabir.

Erragal’s robed skeleton, suddenly there beside its master, tossed down Lydia’s carpet, which she kicked open. I did not know why Dabir looked so horrified when I smiled at him, nor why he lobbed the spear toward the retreating pair with both hands, as though he were tossing a log. I saw it fly, dreamlike, its glow fading. It passed through the snow women crowding toward Lydia and Erragal, leaving only fragments of drifting frost.

I watched as the elder Sebitti leaned from the rising carpet and caught the spear. The huge white wolf snapped playfully at the carpet as it flew up and out, the spear still dangling from Erragal’s hands, and then all cares left me and I relaxed in the companionship of my most excellent friend Enkidu.

17

Enkidu himself took my club, and we marched obediently with him through the ruins as the black night gave way to dawn. On their eastern edge we came upon a force of Khazars, many of whom were busily erecting tents in the pale, chill air. The wind brought me the scent of horses and the bawling complaints of a variety of animals.

It was a camp for a small army of Khazars. We two followed Enkidu beyond their line of fur-clad sentries. The snow women had drifted away or wandered off—because of my own altered state I paid them no mind.

I don’t remember feeling especially worried about the Khazars, even though the numbers impressed me. “There must be a thousand or more of them,” I said to Dabir.

He did not respond.

I had heard that Khazar women sometimes rode to war at the side of their men, and as we passed deeper into the camp we saw some of these female warriors tending gear and standing about the fires. They considered us with fierce ice-blue eyes, and I sensed that they would kill us, joyously, on the instant if given the word.

Finally we came to a huge round tent fashioned of animal hides. I had seen smoke curling from the openings at the peaked roofs of other tents, but none rose from this one. Two huge warriors, hulking in their dark furred robes, stood before its entrance. They bowed their heads to Enkidu and held the tent flap open for us.

Inside was a gloomy space hung with colored curtains and floored with many rugs. I realized that other parts of the tent must be sectioned off by the curtains into separate chambers, for the tent was much larger than this single area. It was very cold within, and while there was a brazier, I had the sense it was more for light than warmth. It threw twisted shadows on the fabric walls.

And then my breath caught in my throat, and my heart raced like a rabbit’s.

Beyond the brazier, in front of three kneeling Khazars, Najya sat upon a slim chair. Her hair was unbound and hung back in a cascade. She was garbed now in a brown dress with yellow diamonds, and it was of curious style, for while it was formfitting about her waist, it was flowing below, and had long sleeves that tightly sheathed her arms.

And her eyes were blue, a bright, piercing blue that glowed from within. At sight of that, the joy that had thoughtlessly leapt forward at sight of her fell suddenly, like a gazelle struck dead in midgallop.

Enkidu went down on one knee before her, and his influence fell away. I stood blinking as the reality of what had happened washed suddenly over me. I was aware then of great fatigue, and anger that Dabir and I both had been manipulated.

The Khazars sitting before Najya grew agitated and rose, pointing to us. I recognized one of them as the woman we’d encountered in the frozen village north of Harran.

Guards strode forward, hands to weapons.

“Down,” Dabir said to me, and dropped to his knees. I was a moment too late, for the Khazar warriors arrived to point insistently at the ground in front of me, and one put a hand to my shoulder.

Almost I knocked his fingers away and drew, but I fought the impulse and did as I was ordered, even if I did not understand the words they spat.

After a short while Najya spoke to us. “You may rise.” Her voice was commanding, calm, but with nothing of its usual warmth.

Enkidu stepped to our side and showed the club he had taken from me. “As you foretold, so has it come to pass.”

At this Najya smiled coolly. She spoke to the trio nearest her. “I am done with all of you except Bersbek.”

They rose and bowed, backing away from her. The Khazar woman smiled at me, short, thick, but clear-eyed, with a weathered complexion. Her male counterparts stared as they left us. They were garbed like all the Khazars—leather and fur, mostly—but were lean where the others were thick, and wore necklaces heavy with clanking symbols, bird claws, and what might have been mummified fingers. They were red-haired, a peculiarity of many in their race. A strange sweetness clung to them as they passed. I know it was not soaps, for they reeked of unwashed flesh.

“Where is the spear?” Najya asked Enkidu.

“This one,” he gestured to Dabir, “passed it over to Erragal, who escaped. I am sorry, Daughter.”

At the look on Najya’s face it was easier to think of her as someone else, for her lip curled as she frowned. After a moment, though, her expression cleared, and she eased back. “We have dreamed that Asim will once more wield the club in a great battle, in our presence, when we seek the spear. We shall have both of them at that time.”

“‘We’?” Dabir asked. “Not ‘I’? Are you one now, spirit and Najya?”

Enkidu and the round shaman woman, Bersbek, looked over at him, then at Najya, as if they expected to hear a reprimand, or an order to strike him for speaking out of turn.

But no such order came. “I cannot be rid of her,” Najya’s voice answered. “Her thoughts are useful to me, for she knows things that I do not.” She turned her lovely face to the Sebitti. “Enkidu, take their swords, for these two are crafty.”