Curse: The Dark God Book 2 (33 page)

37

Black Harvest

SUGAR AND SODDAM ran down the lane between the houses and workshops of cobblers and tailors, Lamborn still on Soddam’s shoulder. The barking of maulers followed a few turns behind.

Sugar barreled with multiplied speed past a man pushing a cart of beets, almost bowled over a group of dumbfounded children. Above them, people, who were leaning out of windows to watch the receding skir squall, pointed and exclaimed as they ran past. Soddam knocked over a man with sausage links for sale, careened off a boy holding two dead pheasants. On his shoulder, Lamborn groaned.

Then the maulers entered the lane a number of houses back. A man shouted in panic. A mother screamed for her children to get off the road.

The maulers snarled, vicious and low, and the people on the lane began to shout and scream.

Fear surged through Sugar.

“We’ve got to lose them,” Soddam said.

Sugar’s mind raced. She didn’t know if they could outrun the beasts, even multiplied. There was no canal nearby where the water would sink the beasts in their armor. If she and Soddam took to the roofs, the maulers would just pace them. Furthermore, the kitemen would easily direct the Skir Master to them.
Where could they go? Where!

She remembered a row of sail and net makers’ workshops in this area, and an idea began to form. “This way!” she called and raced down the lane, the people scattering before her. She turned the corner into a blind end. This was it. There were only five buildings here. The end was dominated by a sail maker’s workshop.

The double doors at the front and back of the workshop stood so she could see through the workshop to a ship builder’s scaffolding down by the water. A lone woman knelt in the workshop, stitching a sail with a whalebone needle. Two kittens played with the thread at her feet.

Sugar raced toward the workshop. “Out, Good-Wife!” she cried. “Out!”

The woman looked up, alarm on her face.

“Out!” Sugar yelled.

The woman stood, backed away, then fled when Sugar and Soddam raced through the front doors.

The shape of a large sail had been chalked on the tight wooden floor of the workshop. Wide strips of linen sail cloth were laid out to fit. The woman had been stitching together two wide strips of linen about twenty feet long.

Sugar looked about and saw what she wanted. “Take Lamborn out the back way,” she said. “Bar those doors.”

“What are you doing?” Soddam asked.

“Just go!” she said. “When the dogs come in, you come around and bar those front doors.”

“You’re not staying in here with those animals.”

“I’m not planning to. Get!”

Just at that moment the maulers barreled around the corner.

“Go!” she said.

Soddam ran out the back the way the woman had gone. He shut and barred the doors behind him.

Sugar backed up, looked at the maulers and felt her heart just might fail her. They were monsters. They spotted her and charged full speed toward the workshop, baring their teeth. One bite, and they’d rip her in half.

The workshop was a large space, big enough for a sail maker to chalk out sails for medium-sized boats. Big enough to give her the room she needed. When the maulers were only a few yards away, and she was sure they were coming in, she ran to the ladder leading up to the loft. She was halfway up when the dogs entered the workshop.

They leapt for her, crashing into the ladder. She jumped, grabbed onto the banister, and swung herself onto the loft. Below, the dogs and ladder crashed to the ground.

The maulers rose and snarled at her with such volume it felt as if the bark had bite. One of the monsters jumped and almost reached the loft. She raced for the small window in the roof. At the front of the workshop, Soddam swung the double doors behind the maulers shut. Sugar shouted, hoping to keep their attention away from the doors, then opened the shutter and slipped out onto the roof.

She dropped to the ground, ran around the corner, and found Lamborn on the ground, Soddam straining with all his might to hold the doors shut against the maulers. “The bar!” he said.

She grabbed it, slammed into the door with her shoulder to knock it back just a bit, then slammed the bar down in its braces. The maulers barked. One of the animals charged into the doors. The doors shuddered, but the stout bar held. The maulers’ barks became more violent and angry. They were so loud it felt as if the sound itself would tear the doors to pieces.

“Holy Creators,” Soddam said and stepped back. “You’re as mad as your mother.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said.

“Let’s get out of here,” Soddam said.

They turned and found the maulers’ dogman standing in the lane, watching them. A grin spread across his face. He held a big poleax in a two-handed grip. He threw his head back and howled. A moment later howls from his brethren a number of streets away answered him back.

Soddam drew his axe. It looked like a toy in comparison to the dogman’s weapon. “Fight or run?” Soddam said to Sugar.

If they were quick, they might be able to make it around the house and down to the dock.

“Run,” Sugar said.

“I think you’re right,” Soddam said. “Go!”

Sugar ran, but realized a few strides later that Soddam hadn’t followed. Instead, he charged the dogman. Sugar knew Soddam was mature in the lore, and he was big, but the dogman was bigger. Soddam flew at the dogman, a blur of fury, and struck with his axe.

The dogman countered and stepped back, clearly surprised.

Soddam twisted and struck again.

The dogman blocked his attack.

Soddam slashed him with a knife. The dogman snarled and took the initiative. He swung the bladed end of the poleax at Soddam and knocked his axe back. Then he swung the butt of the staff around, landing a glancing blow that knocked Soddam to the ground.

Sugar rushed forward with her knife, but the dogman swatted her away, and she crashed painfully into the cobbles. The dogman turned back to Soddam who was getting up.

The dogman licked his lips. “Sliced thin, your heart will be succulent,” he said with an odd accent. He swung, blinding fast. Soddam ducked under the blow and charged into the dogman, lifting him off his feet for a stride, but the dogman twisted and hurled Soddam to the ground.

Sugar rushed the dogman again. He straight-armed her, took her by the throat, and threw her on top of Soddam. He raised his poleax high for a blow that would skewer them both, and then a sword protruded from his chest. His eyes went wide.

The sword tip disappeared. The dogman turned.

Argoth stepped back, his face grim.

The dogman swung his poleax, weakened.

Argoth stepped to the side and, with one blow, hacked the dogman’s head off. It landed heavily and rolled a bit. A moment later the body toppled to the ground.

Relief washed over Sugar. She rolled off Soddam and got to her feet.

“Where are the others?” Argoth asked.

“Scattered from here to breakfast,” Soddam said, hauling himself up and feeling his battered head.

Argoth’s small fist of men were all with him, watching the street. “We need to get to the cover of the trees,” Argoth said.

“Follow me,” Sugar said.

Soddam fetched Lamborn, and they all ran past the sail maker’s workshop. Behind them maulers barked and scattered dogmen howled. Battle horns sounded up by the fortress and down at the docks.

“Look up,” Soddam said.

Sugar looked. Two kitemen soared like vultures above, tracking their progress.

Kitemen rode the winds, but were also said to be kept aloft many times by smaller skir. They were sometimes used as messengers. More often they were used as scouts, giving Mokad’s Divines eyes in the sky so they could see exactly what the enemy was doing over a huge area. She didn’t know how they communicated with the ground, but had heard they had special methods using hand mirrors, pennants, and specific aerial maneuvers. These flew in a harness attached to huge triangular linen sails. The sails were painted with the eye of Mokad.

They would have been a wonder to behold if they weren’t directing the whole Mokaddian army to Sugar’s exact position.

Sugar led Argoth and the others through the streets to one of the town’s lesser-used gates. The guards saw her and moved to bar the way, but then they saw the rest of the crew round the corner, and the guards scattered. A few moments later, Sugar and the others were through the gate and running along the outlying streets. And then they left the streets behind and ran across a field to the shelter of the woods.

Mokad would send out mounted men. In no time, this whole area would be crawling with troops. But Sugar had lived among the Fir-Noy her whole life. She’d been to Blue Towers many times for her father’s smithing work, and she knew about Sharp’s Cave.

They entered the woods and ran another quarter of a mile. One of the kitemen dropped lower to see better through the canopy of trees. He skimmed low enough she could hear the flapping of his sail and see his face. But even though it was autumn and a number of the trees had lost their top leaves, there was still enough cover that they were able to give him the slip when they entered the cave.

The cave itself was a rather simple affair.There were some dangerous holes and a few blind ends, and parents forbid their children from exploring it, but the youth explored it all the same. It ran for half a mile, branching about two-thirds the way in. Argoth had seafire soaked torches, but they didn’t need them, for they’d stumbled upon a boy and two girls who were obviously not there to listen to the bats. The men tied them up and gagged them. Then they stole their lamps and continued their journey over the wet rocks deeper into the cave.

As they went, Sugar prayed the ancestors that Urban and Ke and the others had escaped.

* * *

Berosus felt after the captain of his dreadmen, then waited patiently for Ke to rouse. His hammer of dreadmen guard soon arrived and formed a perimeter around the barn and drive. Not long after, Ke opened his eyes. He was none too happy. Shouts rose in the distance about them in the town. The chase for the attackers was still in progress.

“You and I are going to chat,” said Berosus. “I’ll give you credit. This was a breathtaking strike. And you yourself are a surprise. An equal to any of my dreadmen in might. In fact, I’m sure you surpass a good many of them.”

“Shim will hound the Divines that hold your chain,” said Ke. “When they’re dead, you’ll be free. And I’ll try my best at that time to forgive you and not run you through with a sword.”

“Divines?” Berosus asked. He smiled. “My dear boy, I don’t think you understand who I am.”

Uncertainty shown in Ke’s eyes. “Your honors tell me nothing.”

“Of course, not,” said Berosus. “It would not do to walk into a nest of sleth and proclaim that the chief Guardian of Mokad was among them.”

Ke expression changed from alarm to fear.

“Yes, now I think you finally see your situation.”

Ke renewed his struggle against his bonds.

“I need some information,” said Berosus. “And you’re going to provide it. Do not chastise yourself when you give in. Resistance is not something you or anyone else is capable of.” He pulled back the sleeve of his right arm. In the palm of his right hand the symbol of the eye of Mokad glowed red. He placed his hand upon Ke’s forehead. The boy’s resistance was strong, but this was not a power to be withstood. He tore open the boy’s doors and pushed into his mind.

“Tell me what happened in the battle in the Mother’s cave. Tell me who the real power of the Grove is.”

Anguish wracked Ke’s face, and he resisted, but even this bull could not hold out for long. Not with the hooks of the Sublime already deep within him. Berosus asked questions about the history of the Grove here; he asked about the current war plans. And Ke answered.

When he’d retrieved all the information he wanted, Berosus sat back on his heels satisfied but somewhat disappointed. These sleth had not killed Lumen or Rubaloth. Nor had they really killed the Sublime Mother who had been behind everything. They’d had a stroke of luck, that was all. That Mother’s own thrall had failed, and her creation had turned on her. The dark killing mists at Redthorn and Fishing were also not of their making. All of which meant that there was nothing in this Grove to fear.

He had been looking forward to a true struggle, but that was not to be. Which meant there was no need to wait. Tomorrow he would destroy Shim and his army.He motioned to the captain of his dreadmen.

The man approached. “Holy One,” he said.

“Take the gloryhorn to the harvesters. Tell them to begin today.”

He wouldn’t have the fight he’d been hoping for, but the weather was still holding—it was still going to be a magnificent harvest.

* * *

Sugar’s body lay hidden next to Soddam who crouched behind an outcropping of rocks on a hill with a good view of Blue Towers. They had traveled through the cave without incident and joined up with Shim’s escort. Urban and the survivors in his group had also joined them. Only Ke’s group was missing.

“What do you see?” Argoth asked.

Sugar had soulwalked to an open bluff that looked across the river. She had a clear view of the surrounding area. “I don’t see Ke’s fist anywhere.”

“Come on, boy,” Argoth said. “Show yourself.”

But they’d already waited as long as they could; Mokad’s forces were starting patrols on this side of the river. Down below, two packs of dogmen debarked from a boat.

“We need to move,” Urban said.

Argoth sighed heavily. “Come back, Sugar.”

But one of the immense blue urgom was flying up the river toward her. She dove under the cover of some rocks. The mountain-sized creature blocked out the sun, filled the sky. Other smaller things flew about it, but even these were large. She quailed at the creature’s sheer size, and made herself as small as possible. The air filled with the clicks and tones it made.

The front edge of the wind passed over her position throwing debris in her face and hair. Moments later the massive skir followed, and for four long breaths all she could see was its belly and the creatures that accompanied it. Then it passed by, heading up the river. The tail end of its wind tossed the tops of the trees, and then was gone.