Pilgrim (26 page)

“Gone,” Xanon said. She sat back on her heels, and reached for a rough bandage she’d torn from a robe. “Wounded, but not dead. They have flown into the distant night. For the moment.”

“Well, at least we know they, too, can bleed,” Axis said, and then looked at Adamon. “We have no time to waste.”

Adamon nodded. “I know.” Then his eyes brightened, and he leaned forward and rested his hand on Axis’ shoulder, his excitement flowing down through Axis’ body and arm into Caelum.

“We have found something!” he said.

H
e strode down through the palace corridors, ignoring the glances of those he passed, down to the courtyard, across to the stables and to the bracket of two loose boxes that held his stallion and the placidly munching donkeys.

All Zared could think of was how he’d lost Isabeau.

If only he’d been more careful. Not let her ride to the hunt while pregnant. Restricted her to the palace and gentle walks about the garden.

If only…if only he’d been able to keep her from death.

And now he’d lost Leagh, too. If only he’d kept Leagh with him.

If only he’d not trusted his wife to her Demon-rotted brother!

And now, was Leagh also…? No! He could not think of it.

“I
will
rescue her,” he said to his stallion as he threw a saddle across its back. “How far can Askam have run?”

“Don’t be such a fool, Zared!” Herme cried, running into the stable. His face was red and sweating. He had dashed all the way from the audience chamber of the palace where a guard had told him of Zared’s stern-faced march through the corridors and down to the stables.

Thank all gods in creation he’d got here soon enough. He began to say something else, checked himself, then continued
in a moderate voice that was nevertheless tight with frustration.

“Sire, I entreat you to listen to reason. There is no shelter beyond Carlon’s walls, and dusk fell many hours ago. Leagh…Leagh would have succumbed—”

“No!” Zared jerked the girth of his saddle tight and reached for the bridle hanging on a hook nearby. “Askam and his men had shade cloth with them. They could have…they
must
have…”

Theod entered the stable, his own face flushed, and looked mildly surprised that the older Herme had managed to get there first.

“Zared,” he said, somewhat breathlessly, “you know as well as we that Askam and his command must have been infected by the Demons. They would not use the shade cloth. My friend, Leagh is…is…”

He could not continue, and turned away, his hand over his eyes.

Zared stared at Theod, then shifted his eyes to Herme. “I
will
rescue her,” he repeated. “Damn it, I cannot let her lie out there.”

“For the gods’ sakes, listen to reason!” Herme roared, startling the other two men. “You owe responsibility to your people before you do to your wife. Have you forgotten already who you are? You are a
King
, Zared, and married to your people as much as you are married to the woman who is your wife.”

Zared stared at him flatly, almost hating Herme for his words, and hating his own mind for dredging up the memory of using almost the exact words to Leagh when he was trying to persuade her to marry him despite her doubts.

Herme swung an arm dramatically towards the stable door leading to the courtyard and the streets beyond. “Your people need you to help
them
, Zared. The very last thing they need of you is to waste your own life trying to
rescue a woman who is already surely as mad as her brother.”

“
How dare you say those words to me!
” Zared screamed, and would have lunged forward had not Theod seized his shoulders and held him back.

“How dare you say to me she is mad,” Zared said again, this time in a whisper. “How dare you say to me she is lost.”

Again Theod’s and Herme’s eyes met, and they were almost as despairing as Zared’s were.

“We can do nothing,” Herme murmured. “Nothing.”

Very gently he eased the bridle from Zared’s trembling hands.

“Nothing,” he whispered again, and then gathered Zared into his arms. “I am so very, very sorry, my friend.”

Zared stood stiffly for a moment, and then he broke down, sobbing.

Herme stood there and held him as he wept, Theod standing close to one side, a hand on Zared’s shoulder.

Theod raised his eyes and looked at Herme, and neither man was surprised to see that the other had tears sliding down his cheeks. For his part, Herme knew that Theod was thinking of his own wife and two young sons far to the north. Gwendylyr was of an age with Leagh.

In the adjoining loose box the donkeys had stopped their munching and were staring at the three men. One of them shifted her gaze slightly, and the single lamp hanging on a post glinted in her eyes. For one instant the donkey’s eyes reflected the carnage of dead seals atop the ice-pack.

The donkeys stayed still long after the men had gone.

Then one turned to the other and spoke with the mind voice.
It has been a very long time since we have hunted, sister.

That is so.

And meanwhile the man-Zared laments for the woman-Leagh.

That is so.

We have been quiescent too long. Shall we hunt the seal tonight, sister? Aye!

The streets of Carlon were still, deserted. Nothing moved, save the grey terror that hung down in thick veils from the sky and the two white donkeys who moved silently between the tenement buildings.

The terror did not touch them…it did not even notice them.

The donkeys plodded forward, their heads nodding with every step, their ears drooping amiably.

Their tongues hungered for the wetness of blood.

Eventually, the donkeys drew close to the postern gate. It was bolted shut, and heavy beams were propped against the door as further protection against invasion.

One of the donkeys stepped forward and nudged one of the beams gently with her nose. It fell soundlessly to the ground, and the two other beams toppled with it.

The other donkey nudged the bolt, and it slid soundlessly into its carriage.

The gate opened and the donkeys walked through. It swung shut behind them and the bolt slid home.

The donkeys ambled forth placidly into the night.

Askam had not moved his party since the previous evening. The badger was coming from the east, and would not ford the Nordra until the next morning.

And so Askam sat and waited. His maniacal command sat with him, forming concentric circles that rippled out in the night, at their edges hemmed in by their horses standing legs akimbo, heads down, drool roping from slack jaws to the ground.

In the centre of the circles lay Leagh, her eyes wide, staring at something no-one else could see. Her limbs moved slowly and purposelessly, her hands alternatively
scrabbling at the dirt she lay in and picking at invisible scabs on her belly.

She was completely naked.

None among this mad company cared, or were even aroused by the sight.

Their minds communed with that of the brown and cream badger, dreaming of the day when all in this land lay under the sway of the Demons.

The hours passed.

Dawn filtered from the eastern sky, and Mot’s hunger ravaged the land. Some of the men who sat with Askam absently carried handfuls of dirt to their mouths, chewing happily on the dry, crumbly earth, their teeth cracking and shattering on the rocks within the soil. They swallowed this breakfast without apparent effort. Again and again they lifted their hands to their mouths, stuffing their bodies with so much earth they eventually groaned and fell over, writhing silently as their stomachs and then guts burst with the pressure of the rocks and soil.

Eventually blood trickled from their mouths and they lay still, although their bellies continued to swell with the fluids and gases created by the internal destruction. Some one or two, their internal build-up so extreme, looked like ghastly parodies of women who had died in the extremities of childbirth.

Askam paid the swelling corpses no heed. The badger was only a few hours away, and soon Askam would be reanimated with its purpose.

Everyone save Leagh, who still writhed under the weight of her own internal agonies, sat completely still. Likewise, the horses stood motionless on their skewed legs.

Waiting.

Something else found them before the badger did.

The donkeys had trotted through the night, unerringly headed straight for the spot where Askam and his demented
force waited. As they drew to within a quarter of a league of their quarry the donkeys broke into a canter, and their heads snaked forth before them.

The donkeys’ bony spines padded out and their flanks thickened. Their hooves grew larger and flattened into platesized paws, wicked talons curving outwards in the anticipation of dealing death. Their heads, snaking ever lower to the ground, broadened and shrunk back towards shoulders that had attained the bulkiness of bears.

Icebears.

One of them opened her massive jaws and snarled, and her sister replied with a full-throated roar.

Far, far to the north, Urbeth raised her head from where it lay on her paws before the fire. If she had been any less drowsy, she would have smiled, but as it was, she only listened, then let her head drop back to her paws and sleep. She dreamed of the time, fifteen thousand years earlier, when she had walked the Underworld on two legs, and with the man who had once been her husband.

Noah.

Then, Urbeth’s mouth had spent a great deal of its time curved in laughter and hardly any of her nights in sleep at all.

The icebears burst through the outer ranks of horses and men with the full fury of a winter storm on the Icebear Coast.

Men and horses scattered, bowled aside by a combination of the bears’ weight and the force of their huge paws.

Those not directly affected by the bears’ intrusion leapt to their feet, hands reaching for swords or stones, their faces contorted with howls of hate.

Who was this, come to destroy their contemplation?

Askam himself jumped up, jerking about to see what it was that caused such a commotion.

Even in his preoccupied madness, his face slackened in momentary disbelief before he grabbed his sword.

Askam ordered the compliant Leagh to her feet, swinging her body around so that it covered his, and he placed the sword against her throat.

She did not protest, nor move away.

One of the bears stopped several paces away, her head moving slowly from side to side, deep growls rumbling through her throat.

The fur of her neck and chest was stained bright red, but Askam was way beyond fear. His sword tightened against Leagh’s throat so that a trickle of blood crept down to circle one breast. Still she did not move, nor give any sign that she knew a great icebear stood before her.

“Go away,” Askam said to the icebear, “or she dies.”

The icebear sat down with a thud, and tilted her head to one side. “I can eat her dead or alive,” she said, “as I can you.”

“Why do you not listen to the badger?” Askam asked, the first hint of puzzlement infusing his voice.

The icebear grinned. “Oh, but it
is
the badger who has sent me.”

“It is?” Askam asked hopefully. His arm slackened slightly and the sword point drooped.

“The badger of death,” the icebear said, and laughed.

Askam frowned, and his arm twitched as if he meant to lift the sword, but in the heartbeat before he did so, the other sister slunk silently up behind him and seized his head in her jaws.

Askam screamed—the sound horribly muffled—and dropped the sword as he desperately grabbed at the slavering mouth that encased his head.

It was useless.

With three quick movements the icebear savaged Askam’s head from his shoulders, and then dropped his corpse.

She bent down and snuffled Leagh lying unperturbed on the ground.

“I like this not,” she said to her sister.

“Nevertheless,” said the other icebear, ambling over, “she will make a lily yet.”

And then she grinned, and looked about at the slaughter that surrounded them. “The hunt was a good one, sister. Shall we feed before we go back?”

The badger stood and surveyed the scene of carnage.

What had happened?

He snorted and nuzzled the remains of a soldier. There was not much left.

What to do now?

He raised his head and gazed southwards. He could just make out the rising walls and spires of Carlon—the stone maze where the two-legs hid.

Many two legs…more two-legs than his mind could grasp. All hiding from his masters’ hunger.

He looked back over his shoulder. Several thousand creatures of all varieties stood waiting his instructions.

His eyes swivelled forwards again, and the Demons spoke in his mind.

Carlon! Carlon!

The brown and cream badger grunted, and started forward.

Behind him his force followed in blind, obedient madness.

At noon that day a shout from one of the guards brought Zared rushing from palace to gates.

Outside stood the two white donkeys, Leagh’s still form draped across one of them.

In the ensuing rush no-one had time to even
think
about how it was that the two donkeys had not only escaped Carlon in the middle of the night, but now stood here in the noon chill with Leagh. Zared broke several fingernails in his desperate attempts to get the bolts drawn back from the gates, and had hauled Leagh from the donkey’s back with no other thought than to get her inside.

No questions asked.

No thanks given.

No-one even remembered the donkeys who stood watching with great sad, dark eyes as the gates slammed and bolted shut again in their faces. They sighed, and wished Zared luck with what was left of his wife.

After a moment they turned and trotted north, their duty done.

Theod stood with Zared, surrounded by Herme, Gustus and several other captains and anxious servants, staring at the closed door to the bedchamber.

Nothing had been said as Zared carried Leagh back to their rooms—save for a shout for the palace physician—and there were few words to be said now.

And so they waited in silence, all eyes on the closed bedchamber door. Zared had wanted to go inside with the physician, and the five soldiers he’d needed for safety, but both Herme and Theod had held him back.

Now they stood, and watched, and waited.

The door opened, and the physician emerged. His face was grey, and marked as if scratched. His eyes searched for Zared, then he walked over and dropped to one knee before his King.