A Shout for the Dead (48 page)

'Let's win this war quickly, eh? I've got revenge to consider.'

Chapter Thirty-Three

859th cycle of God, 36th day of
Genasrise

'Julius!' Roberto's voice echoed across the bleak face of the crag. 'Hang on. Don't fall now. Don't let go. The Omniscient will give you strength.'

Julius Barias was weakening. His position was difficult and draining. Roberto's fingers, hands and feet were on fire but he knew he could hang on. Julius was clinging to the crag face across the path from Roberto. Both men were fifteen feet from the ground. When the wave of disease or whatever it was, had washed up the slope and the panic around the crag path had dissolved into bloodshed, he had yelled for any who would hear him to climb the rock.

Ten or more had followed his lead. Three had fallen back and had died choking on spores and filth. He and Julius had clung on and climbed as far as they could. The other five, Dahnishev and four medics, had been far more fortunate, finding a ledge and secure foot and handholds. They waited twenty feet above and to Roberto's right. Roberto had refused their offers of help.

The scene at the base of the path and up inside it had been dreadful. It would live with Roberto for the rest of his life. Experienced legionaries chopping down their comrades and scrambling over their bodies to get to the path. Hauling off those already on the ropes to clear a space for themselves. Only one voice had tried to maintain order. Pavel Nunan. Roberto had seen him engulfed by his own legionaries.

And then the wave had struck them all. It had washed over those trapped on the ground and grabbed up higher and higher on the path, consuming men and women who were crammed together as they tried to get away. But the Work could not jump the gap between living and dead. It did not climb the bare rock. Silence had fallen broken only by the desperate scrambling of the survivors higher up the path.

The shouts of those on the crag reached them a little later, exhorting them to hold on, that help would come. That had been two hours ago and it had become clear to Roberto that there was not enough rope to lower down to them and he had forbidden them to descend the path to use the rope still set there.

'I can't,' said Julius, desperate and terrified.

'You can,' said Roberto. 'Yes, you can. Remember how you want me tried by you in the presence of the Advocate? Remember that? Use it, Julius. Don't you give up.'

Roberto had his face flat against the rock. He looked across the path and at the Speaker. Julius was staring at him, not knowing what to think or say.

'It doesn't matter now,' he said eventually.

'It does if it keeps you hanging on there. They'll move on soon and then we can move. Want to stop me burning more of your flock? Then hang on.'

Julius smiled, laughed. It was an incongruous expression and sound. 'You're provoking me.'

'Trying to,' said Roberto. 'Anger gives strength and determination.' 'I've misjudged you,' he said.

'I doubt it, Julius. My position hasn't changed. Neither has yours.' Roberto flexed a cramping finger. He dare not move his feet. The crack into which he'd pressed his toes was tiny and dusty. Slippery. 'But right now, we need every man and woman to live. That includes you and me. Don't become one of them, Julius, or I'll want to burn you too.'

The dead were walking across the ruined ground. The rising stench was eye-watering, appalling. It was like something five days dead in the heat. Rank odours floated from the rotten ground. Flies had begun to gather. Tsardon and Conquord dead gathered as they rose. Those Roberto had managed to glimpse were covered in boils and sores and with a sickly green tinge to their skins. When they exhaled, clouds of spores spewed out.

Ever since they had begun to rise, Roberto had been praying they would move off. The black mat of the Work had long since faded. He felt sure the ground would be safe. But right now, to drop there would be to die. Every dead man or woman had sword and shield in hand.

And there was an order to what they did. They were forming up at the base of the crag where the ground was clear.

So far they hadn't thought to climb the rope up the crag path. Perhaps the dead could only be given a single, simple instruction. Either the whole force would attempt the climb or none of them would. Roberto didn't think Gorian would waste his time. Thousands of dead were gathering along the line of the crag, silent but for the sporadic chink of metal on metal. They waited. Roberto was worried about why. He feared one of the living coming to move among them. While the dead had not looked above the horizontal, no living man could fail to see the helpless few Conquord citizens trapped on the crag.

Julius was speaking again. Roberto looked at him and his heart fell. The Speaker was leaning out from the wall, looking down at the dead mustering there. What Roberto had first heard was a muttered prayer but now his voice was rising. Roberto didn't like the way it was going.

'Turn away from the path of evil. Lie back down. Feel the embrace of God again. This is not your cycle renewed. Join me in praying for those who walk with you. Let me walk among you and show you the way to the Omniscient's bosom. He who commands you is not God but man. Set your will against him. Stop him. I will help you. I will come down to you.'

'Julius. Don't even think about it.'

'They have to listen to me, Ambassador.' Julius's voice was choked. 'Look at them. Confused. Alone even though they stand in a crowd. I cannot save myself while so many are abandoned.'

'Julius, look at me. Please.'

The Speaker turned his head. His eyes were gone, unfocused. They darted everywhere. His breathing was furious and his face held an expression that burned with righteous action.

'No one will save those who do not try to save another,' said Julius.

'You don't understand. They will not hear you. They will try to kill you. Make you one of them.'

'I have to try.'

'Save it for those who can hear you.' 'They will hear me,' said Julius. He let go his hands. 'No!'

Julius Barias dropped to the ground, landing lightly and rolling to avoid hurting his legs. He was no more than three feet from the nearest dead man. Above Roberto, Dahnishev and his medics were shouting, urging the Speaker back to the crag path, and their cries were joined by echoes from above. Roberto clung on and watched.

The dead ignored him and initially, Julius ignored them too. His eye had been caught by something else away to the left. Gorian's army continued to muster and at last, began to march away down the slope towards the road. They were clearing from below Roberto. It was as ordered as it was repulsive. And it least it gave Julius a ghost of a chance of survival.

The Speaker was kneeling near the freshly filled graves. Roberto strained to look. There was a shimmer in the air over them. Either that or Roberto had some tick in his eye because it looked like the earth was moving. Julius spread his arms wide and spoke words that Roberto didn't quite catch. A hand sprang from the earth, grasping at the air, and Roberto all but lost his grip. He felt a wave of nausea roll over him. Julius cried out too and began to shout.

'O God, the Omniscient, let your people rest. Blessed by your servant, they should be safe in your embrace and yet still they move. Do not punish them further for their misfortune. They come to you damaged of body but whole in will. God the Omniscient, I beseech you.'

The whole grave was rippling now as if the dead below responded directly to Julius. Headless corpses but still Gorian had given them life again. They were useless to him and yet he tormented them. Though surely they could feel nothing, the violation of their rest was enraging Julius. Roberto felt the same way.

Adranis
...

Roberto began to move down the crag face. Dahnishev was shouting at him to stop but he wouldn't hear. The dead had moved from below him and even had they not it would have made no difference.

'Roberto. Stay where you are.'

'My brother!' he shouted, voice catching in his throat. 'That bastard has brought my brother back.'

'No, Roberto,' called Dahnishev. 'It is not. It is just flesh made to move. Your brother is gone. Hear your own words. Please.'

'My brother,' he repeated and dropped the last few feet to the ground.

He ran towards the graves. Julius was praying now. Roberto slid down next to him, making the Omniscient symbol at his chest. Across this grave and the others further right, the fresh piled soil vibrated. Roberto could see a dozen arms and parts of torsos that had broken through the shallow layer covering them.

'Keep going, Julius,' he said. 'Please give them rest. Give
my
brother rest.'

'They can't hear me, Ambassador. I have begged them to lie still and seek our Lord but they won't. I don't understand.' He looked at Roberto. Tears stained his face. 'What are you doing down here?'

There was renewed shouting. Dahnishev again. Roberto saw him waving and pointing away in the direction of the road.

'Saving you, I think. The dead are coming back.'

'I can help them. They will listen because they can see.'

'You will do no such thing.'

But Julius was already up and moving. Back along the base of the crag. Roberto strode after him. He drew his gladius and felt totally vulnerable. Armour but no shield. Moving back up the rise, Roberto could see thirty or more of the dead heading towards them. They would reach the crag path before the dead but Julius was not interested in a climb. A small unit of dead, acting independently of the mass.

Roberto frowned. 'How is that possible?'

'Faithful of the Omniscient. Come to me.' Julius had his arms outstretched. 'Pray with me. Turn back from your path.' 'Julius, stop,' said Roberto. 'This is madness.'

And it was. Dahnishev was bawling at him from his ledge above the action. The rest of his medics wanted Roberto to climb the crag path. The dead were ten yards beyond it. Julius was marching towards them, blind to the risk, lost in his belief.

'They will kill you. You can't help them.'

'The Omniscient's arms will always be open to you. I know you believe. The voice in your head is not your God.' 'Julius!' roared Roberto.

He stopped. Julius was not listening. Roberto stood at the base of the crag path. The Speaker was a few paces ahead and a few more from the advancing dead. The sight of them did not deter him. Within his madness he had courage at least. The dead were focused on Julius while others still moved across the slope to join the mass heading for the road.

Roberto found the scene surreal. In this lifeless landscape, standing on the sludge of rotten grass among the debris of trees destroyed, he watched dead people, blistered and green-hued, stride towards a man who wanted to save them. They might even be aware of that but a compulsion within them took the compassion from their eyes. Each had a sword. Many had shields. Conquord men were at the head but in the group, Tsardon walked too. Roberto's mind screamed at him to get up the path while he still could but a stronger force forbade him move.

Julius had stopped walking now. His head was held high and he spoke directly to them. He was praying for them, speaking the names of those he recognised, willing them to stop and see. But they just kept walking. A blade slashed out. Julius leapt backwards, the edge missing his stomach by a hair. His voice did not falter. Indeed it strengthened. The dead began to close around him in an arc. They would surround him. Cut him down.

'Back off, Julius. Don't throw your life away,' said Roberto, moving towards him once more, meaning to grab him and pull him bodily from his own demise.

Another blade stabbed at Julius, and another. One caught his arm, cutting through cloth and into flesh. The other whistled just above his head. Julius stumbled backwards, slipped and fell. Roberto ran the few paces to him. The dead were on them. He hacked at the nearest leg, chopping deep into flesh. The legionary fell sideways, catching another and bringing her down. The march was disrupted for a heartbeat. Roberto grabbed Julius's uninjured arm and hauled him backwards towards the crag path.

'Julius, get up, get up.'

Julius turned his head to Roberto, displaying a face from which the veil of confusion had been lifted. Now he was blank with fear,
‘I
don't—' 'Up!'

Robetto was still dragging him over the slick ground. The dead advanced at their even pace. The man whom Roberto had chopped down could not walk but dragged himself across the ground, still intent on his perverse duty. Julius was trying to get to his feet but couldn't get them under him.

'Up, Speaker Barias.' Roberto wrapped an arm around his chest and hauled him to his feet, half choking him as his arm slipped up to the Speaker's neck. 'And climb. Don't look back.'

Roberto pushed him towards the path and stepped up to face the dead. He ducked a slash and kicked the feet from under his attacker. Keeping himself moving forwards, he stayed in a crouch and turned his body in hard, shoulder impacting with a second dead. The woman overbalanced, fell backwards. Roberto threw himself to the right. A sword struck the ground next to his left foot. He rolled further. The dead turned to face him. An idea spawned.