Of Bone and Thunder (11 page)

“Shouldn't we try to go back up to the rest of the shield?” Big Hog asked.

Listowk looked toward the top of the mountain before responding. “If the slyts really do make a move, there won't be anything up there to go back to.”

CARNY WATCHED THE LC
sleeping against the dirt slope. Listowk had removed his aketon and helm and eased himself into the jungle, draping himself around the dirt and vegetation like a wet rag. The LC looked as comfortable as if he were laid out on silk sheets and a down mattress.

The only jarring note was his crossbow cradled across his stomach. Though he looked dead to the world, Carny was certain that at the slightest hint of danger, the LC would spring up ready to fight. Still, seeing the crossbow rise and fall with each breath made Carny nervous. The safety latch had to be secure—it was the LC after all.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Carny inched closer to Listowk to see if the crossbow really was safed but froze when the LC made a noise. It sounded halfway between a growl and a curse. Carny looked up from the weapon. The snarl on Listowk's face was savage. The genial father figure was gone, replaced by something vicious. His eyes remained closed, however, and Carny let out his breath and eased farther back. Whatever the LC was dreaming about, Carny had no interest in it.

“Hey, Big Hog, you awake?” Carny whispered, crawling toward the farmer's position.

“You see something?” Big Hog asked. His voice was strong and clear, even as a whisper. He was definitely wide awake.

“Naw, just checking. I can't sleep. You want to switch watches?”

“Forget that,” Big Hog said, shifting slightly in his seated position among some bushes. “I'm here 'til the bells sound, then it's nighty-night.”

“Please? I'm going crazy just sitting here.”

“Go bother Wraith then—I'm planting crops,” Big Hog said. He sounded slightly out of breath in his exasperation.

“What the hell does that mean?” Carny asked. He imagined Big Hog daydreaming about walking a field with a plow pulled by oxen, gouging thick furrows in the soil while a plump Mrs. Big Hog waddled behind him, tossing seeds into the newly turned earth.

“What do you think it means? You need to see my cock to get the idea?”

“That's disgusting,” Carny said, moving back away from the soldier. “How can you do that out here?”

“I do it everywhere. Keeps it fit and fine,” Big Hog said, the bushes around him rustling lightly in a rhythmic fashion. “As the good leaves say, ‘
spread thy seed on the wind so that the fruit of your loins may grow in fertile soil
.' ”

“For fuck's sake, I held your hand coming down the slope.”

The rustling of the leaves stopped. “Fuck, you're a thorn at times,” Big Hog said. “Can't concentrate worth a damn with your nattering. I'll have to try again later.”

“Fuck you. I'm not the one rubbing his privates every chance he gets.”

“You don't know shit. I got four kids back home now and another on the way, and I'm not even twenty years old. And they're all fit and bright. It's 'cause I keep my fluids moving. Just like water. You drink from a fast stream, not a stagnant pond. If you ever want kids, and I don't mean dullards, you should work yours more often.”

Carny scooted back more. “Are all farmers like you?”

“The smart ones are,” Big Hog said. “See, you need kids on a farm, but damn if they all don't need feeding and clothing, and now you even have to get them some schooling. You believe that? The king himself—well, I guess he's still the king—decreed all children have to learn to read and do maths like you got. Waste of time and silver if you ask me. I didn't learn to read and I turned out fine.”

“Really? And what's your plan if a horde of slyts come sneaking up on us? You gonna spread your seed in the wind and hope it gets in their eyes?”

“Think I'd get a medal for that?”

“You're a pig,” Carny said.

“Pigs are the smartest animals on a farm,” Big Hog said. “Tastiest, too.”

“Well, just keep your poker pointed away from me,” Carny said, crawling away to let Big Hog get back to his business. He turned to see if Listowk had woken up, but the LC was still flat on his back, eyes closed. The snarl on his face was gone, but Carny didn't stare long in case it came back.

He got up on his feet in a low crouch and moved past Listowk and toward the path. He almost stepped on the Weasel. The soldier was curled up in a ball, snoring softly. Carny started to lift a leg to walk over him, then thought better of it and moved around him instead. Anyone waking up in the jungle at night seeing someone looming over him was not likely to react well. He moved on, reaching the path in a few more steps.

Wraith was gone.

Carny's stomach turned icy.
No, no, no, no!
He reached down and fumbled with the safety latch on his crossbow, finally getting it off.

“Wraith?” he whispered, peering into the jungle for any sign of the longbowman.

Stay calm
.
Breathe
. “C'mon, Wraith, don't fool around.”

It was as if the jungle had been plunged into a glacial lake. Carny started shivering. His strength evaporated and he was convinced he'd never move again. He gritted his teeth until he thought he'd break them and forced himself to take one more step forward.

“Lingletti, where the fuck are you?”

“What?” Wraith said, his breath tickling Carny's right ear.

Heat washed over Carny in a tidal wave. His legs spasmed and he tumbled down hard on his ass. Warm piss trickled down his thighs and puddled on the ground.

“Holy fuck, don't do that!” Carny whispered. He was no longer shivering but shaking.

“Me? What about you?” Wraith whispered back. “This ain't the latrine. If you gotta take a piss, go out in the jungle, not beside me.”

“I—never fuckin' mind me, where the hell are you?” Carny asked, quickly getting up and moving away from the wet spot on the ground. He reached out a hand toward a bush and grabbed Wraith's upper arm. “You're being harvested!” he hissed. “You're turning into a tree!”

Wraith jerked his arm away and took off his helm, revealing his face. Palm fronds dangled from the helm so that it looked for all the world like one more plant in the jungle. “You chewing Wild Flower out here? Don't go all mystic LOKAM on me. I'm not turning into a tree, I'm just making sure no slyt can see me, same as the LC does. All that shiny metal we wear is just a big flag saying ‘Here I am, come kill me.' ”

Steadying his breathing, Carny focused his eyes and saw that Wraith was indeed still very much a man. The High Druid was not, in fact, harvesting Wraith's soul and turning him into a tree after all. “Sinte would probably court-martial the entire shield if we did that.”

“His book of rules isn't any good out here,” Wraith said, turning away from Carny to scan the path. “Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?”

Carny shook his head. “Can't. Too keyed up. Tried talking with Big Hog, but he's planting crops.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and stuffed it into his cotton undergarment to sop up the piss.

Wraith let out a snort. “One of these days, he'll set his cock on fire with all the rubbing he does.” He turned again and studied Carny. “If you're going to stay here, then start putting some leaves on your helm and armor.”

“I'm not dressing up like a bush,” Carny said, pulling his hand out of his trousers and rubbing it on the ground.

“Then get the fuck away from me. I'm not dying out here because of someone like you.”

That stung. “Fine, I'll wear some damn leaves if that will make you happy,” Carny said, setting his crossbow down and grabbing some ferns and other leaves from around him.

“Not like that,” Wraith said, swatting at Carny's hand. “You've got to place the dark side out. It ain't windy, and you only see the underside of leaves when it gets windy.”

“There's a wrong way to wear jungle plants?”

“Watch the path; I'll get you sorted,” Wraith said, leaning his bow against a swath of fat, drooping leaves. “The slyts have lived here forever. They know this land. If we're going to beat them, we have to think like them . . . otherwise
we're
going to be leaves in the eternal wind.”

“You don't really think the slyts could beat us? We don't lose,” Carny said, his chest swelling. “Look at all those ships that just arrived. The slyts don't stand a chance.”

“I remember hearing that a year ago, but here we are, and they keep sending more ships. Why do you think that is?”

Carny had thought about it, but he saw it as a sign of confidence and strength. “What, you honestly believe the slyts are any match for the Kingdom? They shoot a few arrows and scamper. That's all they do. Well, that and there are the whores and beggars outside the main camp.”
And the peddlers of greasy meat chunks on bamboo sticks, those copper and tin good-luck trinkets in the shape of tiny palm fronds, and Wild Flower
, he thought to himself.

“All I know is,” Wraith said, tucking a handful of long, slender leaves in the cloth pockets of Carny's aketon, “I ain't taking no chances. Out here, it's a lot like hunting. You get one shot. When I hunted, if I missed, I just went hungry. Here, you die.”

“If you're going to be all morbid, I'll go back to Big Hog. At least he's focused on living, even if it is disgusting.”

“So go,” Wraith said, threading a final palm frond with some thin vine and draping it around Carny's helm.

“Fine,” Carny said, vowing to take off the jungle crap as soon as he did. He started to turn to leave, then turned back. “Wiz said he traded you for his snow. Can I borrow some?”

The bushes around Wraith rustled for a moment, and then a hand reached out from the dark with a lump of camphor in it. “How about if you promise to not come back the rest of the night, you can have it all?”

Carny tried to think of a comeback but decided he'd rather have the snow, so he grabbed it from Wraith's hand and turned to go. “You're a pal.”

“You still here?”

Fuck you, too
. Carny got two steps away when he remembered his crossbow and backtracked to pick it up. If Wraith saw, he didn't say anything. Carny flipped the safety latch back on and made his way past the sleeping Weasel. He was going to swing around Listowk when he realized the LC was gone.

He hurried past the empty spot and made his way to Big Hog's position. “Psst, Big Hog, you see the LC? He's not here.”

Big Hog turned and looked at him before turning back to keep watch. “Yeah, said before he was going to stretch his legs and see what he could see.” Carny was relieved that the bushes weren't rustling around him.

“I didn't think he was serious. Out there all alone . . .” The thought made Carny's back shiver.

Big Hog grunted. “He was made for this place, you know? One of those folks that you wouldn't look twice at on the street, but out here . . . damn, he's more slyt than human. Wraith's like that, too.”

“What about me?” Carny asked, rustling his vegetation loud enough to get Big Hog to turn around.

Big Hog glanced at Carny and shook his head. “You? You make more noise than a herd of cattle going to market on a cobblestone street.”

“Oh,” Carny said. “Well, I'm going to get some sleep, so try to keep it down.”

Big Hog didn't bother to respond.

Carny worked his way back to his little nook along the dirt slope and settled in.

I can be just as good as Listowk or Wraith
, but why bother?
The slyts were peasants, whores, and a few rebels who shot off arrows and then fled. The Kingdom would restore order and before long they'd all be on the next ship home. Learning to live in this jungle would be wasted effort.

The cool feel in the palm of his hand reminded him of the ball of snow there. He brought it up to his nose and drew in a deep, long sniff. His nostrils flared as the icy smell raced through them into his skull, making his eyes water. He started rubbing it over his exposed flesh and sighed as the snow touched his skin. All he needed now was a pipe full of Wild Flower and he'd be set . . . but there was no way he could risk lighting up.

He settled on mixing a little of the weed with a healthy pinch of snow and sticking it in his left cheek. The whole left side of his face immediately went numb and he smiled, ignoring the drool dripping down his chin.

He reached up and slid his helm up and off his head, letting it roll down his back and off to the side. He laid his crossbow on the ground
beside him and leaned his head back against the dirt slope, crushing some earth with the back of his skull, forming a perfectly shaped rest for his head. He closed his eyes, savoring the cool, sharp tang of momentary bliss.

Fuck the Lux
, he thought, smiling to himself.
Fuck the Lux.

“YOU SURE HE'S STRONG
enough for this?” Jawn asked. He held up his small brass-framed oil lantern with its glass panels, marveling that it had survived the trip in his luggage. He trained the light on the wizened creature yoked to the two-wheeled cart that was to be the conveyance into Gremthyn and Rickets's special bar.
So this is a slyt
.

Scrawny
only began to describe what Jawn was looking at. He'd seen corpses before at the RAT, including those cut up to reveal the innards and muscle and bone. This slyt reminded him of one of the skeletons. Every joint was knobby and large compared to the limb it was attached to.

“He might look like a bundle of sticks wrapped in parchment, but these slyts are tough,” Rickets said.

Jawn was more focused on the appearance of the slyt. The poor thing looked like death in waiting. He stood silently in the yoke, chewing on something and periodically spitting out a dark stream of juice. Jawn stepped forward, bathing the slyt in light.