Raveler: The Dark God Book 3 (35 page)

33

The Harvest

BEROSUS WOKE TO smoke and fire and mist. He’d lost much blood and passed out, but a wave of pain had brought him back to his senses. He lay in the ditch outside the fort; it was filled with scorched dead men. The pain wracked him, and something was wrong with one eye, but the grace of the Mother was with him. It would take more than a sword to dispatch him.

He climbed out of the ditch, found a spear to use as support, and stood. The sun shone down in patches through ragged sheets of some unnatural mist that mixed with the seafire smoke. The fort was quiet; there were no Shimsmen on the walls, but out on the field men shouted.

He’d let his anger get the better of him. He wouldn’t do so a second time. He limped up out of the ditch and gazed at the scene before him. Great numbers of his men lay on the ground. Others stood in disarray.

A long gray thing floated toward him out of a thin arm of the mist. It wrapped itself about his arm, searching.

So this was what Argoth had encountered at Fishing. A ragged piece of ravening soul looking for flesh to inhabit. This was a rough and brutal lore, a forced blend that could not last. But it was effective enough.

The grayness attempted to enter his flesh. He let it in, and when it tried to take control, he killed it.

He exited the fort, walking past the charred men and fires. He crossed through the thinning mists and found the ground littered with soldiers moaning or catatonic in fear. Even though some of them would eventually withstand the intrusion, most of them would probably die.

But others were fending off the wraiths with burning brands of godsweed.

One of the men saw him. “Praise the Six!” he shouted. “Holy One!”

Then a figure lurched into view behind them. It was skinny and tall, covered in strands of sea grass.

Berosus eyed the creature. A son of Lammash, just as Rubaloth the Skir Master had reported.

Lammash, the Goat King, was the first man to turn from the ancient ways. He’d defied the Creators, and they had cursed him so that he would have no seed. And so in his rebellion he had sworn to raise children from the dust of the earth. Those children had ravaged his enemies. But it had been ages since any had wielded such power. Besides, those who had ruled the Goat King had been replaced.

The children of the earth had eventually been destroyed and a record kept of their weakness. Berosus had read a copy of that record before he sailed.

The soldiers saw the creature and backed away.

Strength flowed into Berosus. It was the gift of the Mothers that allowed men to wield any power at all. It was their gift that allowed men to enthrall. Their gift that allowed men to multiply their powers. And it was a gift that gave him strength well beyond those of a natural man.

He felt his stomach. It was still torn, but healing had taken place. He cast the spear he’d been using as a support aside and took a brand of burning godsweed from one of his men.

A dreadman, enthralled by a wraith, rose to attack Berosus, but Berosus knocked his sword to the side and smashed the front of the man’s face with his armored fist, knocking the man to the ground. He strode forward, gaining more strength with every step, and walked right up to the earth child.

The monster gaped open its mouth, and Berosus punched his fist through the weak spot on its chest and reached deep inside

The monster exhaled heavily and staggered back a step.

But Berosus moved forward with it, pushing his arm in deeper still until he was up to his shoulder, feeling around in the monsters innards. He latched onto something.

The earth child grabbed him by the back of the neck and tore him away. As it did, Berosus tore free whatever he’d grabbed in the monster’s chest—a gray thing that pulsed like an organ.

The monster recoiled as if struck. It dropped Berosus and staggered back a step.

Berosus expected it to fall to the ground, but the monster lunged at him instead.

Berosus danced back out of its reach, but then felt something behind. He turned and found himself facing two more of the giants. One had a face and body of coral, the other was covered all over in bits of dark stone. Berosus tried to dart away, but the coral monster struck him with a stony fist and slammed him back.

Berosus tripped over a dead man’s arm and fell. The gray organ he’d ripped from the first creature flew wide.

The first creature chased after it, then reached out its long arm and snatched the pulsing mass from where it had fallen and stuffed it back into its chest.

The earth child covered with dark stone grabbed him by the leg. Berosus tried to yank his leg loose, but the thing only shook him like a doll until he fell back. Then it started to drag him along.

Pain tore through Berosus’s gut. He needed strength.
Mother!
He cried.
Strengthen me!
But the Mother did not respond.

He cursed the Bone Faces. Cursed his own arrogance. He should have killed Shim and the others when he first infiltrated. But who could have foreseen this? He tried to twist around to attack this foe, but the creature only swatted him back down and dragged him along for another few dozen yards, then flung him at the feet of a Bone Face Kragow.

The Kragow wore a necklace of many dried fingers and teeth. He looked down upon Berosus. In the mists above the Kragow, the sun shone as flat and dull as an old coin.

The Kragow’s accent was thick but clear enough. He said, “A new time has come. A time for stronger masters. A time for those who were robbed of their birthrights. You will feed them.”

“The Glory will pay a vast ransom for me,” Berosus said.

“You did not listen—it is a time for new things.”

Berosus suddenly felt himself attacked in multiple places, felt the fiber of his flesh and soul being ripped apart. In that moment, something reached through him and his link to the Glory back to the Mother.
We have come for what is ours
, it said.
We have come for what was stolen!

No!
he cried. He reached out to the Mother for strength to fight. But the Mother was nowhere. She had abandoned him.

Pain wrapped his bones. Without the Mother’s grace, he felt alone, naked. “Please,” he said, dread filling him.

But the Kragow only smiled. “Today,” he said, “will be a magnificent harvest.”

34

Swarms of the Queen

TALEN STOOD OFF in the grass to the side of the moving column of defenders with Shim, Argoth, Harnock, River, and Chot. Argoth had just relayed the terrible news about Ke.

“He has to be alive,” Talen said to River.

She shook her head, trying to mask her grief and not doing a good job of it.

Ke would make it. He had to.

“What do you see?” Shim asked.

Talen pushed Ke to the back of his mind. He scanned the skies for orange skir and other possible threats, but they were still gathered back around the fortress and the shrouds of mist that clung there. They were now miles away from the fort. The main Bone Face army that had landed at the beach and river were pursuing Mokad’s army as it fled south toward Blue Towers, but about two hundred Bone Faces were following Shim’s men.

Talen reported this.

“They’re going to shadow us,” said Argoth. “That’s what I’d do. They’ll send word to the main army. And when they’re done with Mokad, they’ll come after us.”

“They won’t,” said Shim. “Because there won’t be an army to come after. There’s a clearing up ahead. Have the men form up there in tight ranks. I’m going to address them.”

About a half an hour later, the men who had survived Fort Echo packed themselves in tight along the slope of a hill. The dogmen stood off to the side, guarded by a fist of men. And now that Talen had a good look at them he realized they were small as dogmen went. They looked like youths. The Nilliamite prisoners stood next to them. The bulk of the army extended around Shim in a large semi-circle. A small breeze blew over the host, but it was nothing that would prevent Shim’s voice from carrying.

Shim stood forth, and the men hushed. He raised his voice. “Good men of the Shoka, Vargon, Mithrosh, and Burund clans. Koramite friends. We have failed to maintain our control of this land. You have personally seen the abominations of the Bone Faces. You know the fate of those of you who tried to stop them. It would be more than folly to try to fight that now.”

Talen waited for Shim’s next words. Surely, Shim wasn’t giving up.

“Over the next ten miles,” he said, “I will order fists and hammers to peel off from the column until nothing of this army remains. You will disappear. You will dissolve. You will give them no target. And each of you will need to make a choice.

“I am leaving this land where my children were sired and raised. This land, where I enjoyed your company, where the blood of so many brave men and women has been spilt. Leaving pains me, but I will never again serve those that harvest our souls.

“So here is your choice. I will not compel you. You are free to choose your own fate. You may choose to stay, to bind yourself to them, and become meat for their masters. Or hope to become a pet they do not devour. You may choose to make your own way with your loved ones from these shores, to travel south or north, by land or by sea, past the outer settlements. Or you may choose to join me. For those that choose the latter, I will rendezvous at Cold Pass in the Three Sisters tomorrow night. If you decide to come with me, you will travel light. You will leave everything but what is essential behind. I estimate we have twenty-four hours, maybe thirty-six, before the Bone Faces finish with Mokad and turn their attention to the rest of the land. I will be gone by that time. I hope you are at my side.”

The breeze gently blew across the hillside. The whole host of defenders stood silent. Talen watched the Bone Face patrol which was about a mile behind them, his roamlings hovering in the sky. He checked the road ahead. All was clear.

“I count you all as my brothers and sisters,” Shim continued. “I implore you to remember that the life of the flesh is only a preparation for what lies beyond. Remember our ancestors wait in brightness. The world of souls is treacherous. And now we know that the peril of that world has reached into our world, and, in its evil, attempts to bind us from birth. Do not let yourselves be deceived. The Glories of this world count you as nothing more than cattle. They will reward you no good thing.

“It’s true those that come with me may not survive long. And even if we do survive, I cannot promise you will not suffer. But I can guarantee we will die someplace far away from the harvesting fields of the Devourers. We will die free.”

Shim scanned the multitude before him, looking them in the eyes as if noting each one by name. “Whatever happens, may the Six bless you,” he said. “And may we one day meet in brightness.”

Shim’s last words rang out over the hill. The moment stretched long, then one grizzled man in the front stepped out. “Zu, what about our families? Surely, the Mokaddians sent troops to catch them before they escaped into the Black Wood.”

Shim said, “I sent them toward the Three Sisters, not Koramtown. And whatever troops might have gone south, you can be sure Mokad will call them back to face this new enemy.”

The man placed his fist on his chest in salute and dropped to one knee. A number of others followed, and soon the whole host was kneeling before Shim. Talen too dropped to a knee. The notable exceptions were Harnock and Chot, who stood to the side, and the prisoners.

Shim returned the salute and dropped to his knee. He bowed his head in respect and rose again. “Brothers and sisters, rise and be free.”

The multitude of defenders rose. Worry lined some faces. Some wept. But most were full of fierce determination. One man raised his sword. “For Shim!” he shouted.

Almost as one, the rest of the multitude drew their weapons and raised them high. “For Shim!” they shouted. “For Shim and glory!” Their weapons glinted in the sunlight. The sound of the multitude of voices reverberated about the hill and washed over Talen like a flood.

* * *

The column moved out, even though it seemed every man wanted to grasp Shim’s hand. Before they reached the next mile, the fists and hammers began to break off, one here, one there, stealing through the woods, disappearing, dissolving.

“The wounded will come with me,” said Shim. “I’m not going to leave one soul behind.”

“I worry about that patrol,” said Argoth. “Surely they have sent word. I fear they will receive reinforcements before the day is out. I think we should send some men back.”

“We don’t have time for battle,” said Shim.

Chot spoke up. “The painted skinmen will not come past this point. They will turn around.”

Shim and the others looked down at him. Chot bared his teeth. “The queen desires an agreement. The queen will do this thing to demonstrate her desire.”

Shim looked at Harnock. “What’s he talking about?”

Chot whistled. A reply came from the woods off to their left. A moment later, a few dozen woodikin warriors appeared at the forest edge. With them was the wasp lord that had accompanied Talen and the others before, plus a number of other woodikin dressed with the same feathered headdresses.

“Those who walk in darkness will turn around,” Chot repeated.

“That’s more than six wasp lords,” Talen said.

Harnock turned to Shim. “I’d say you have your safe passage.”

“Now you will come with us,” Chot said to River. “It was agreed.”

“Fourteen days was agreed,” said Harnock. “But I can come now to show we will keep our bargain.”

“Yes,” Chot said, “you will come.”

Harnock turned to Shim. “Play your cards right, and you might have yourself yet another ally.”

“You’re leaving us?” asked Argoth.

Harnock said, “The queen has something that is ours. When we have it back, I will find you.” He turned to Talen. “Did you feel her call?”

He was talking about the Mother. “I did.”

“She couldn’t hold me,” said Harnock. “There was nothing for her to grab onto.”

“Imagine that,” said Talen.

Harnock removed a long knife from his belt and held it out for Talen. “I owe you, brother.”

The knife was made of fine steel. The hilt was carved with beautiful Koramite designs. “You’re not going to kill me then?”

Harnock smiled. “Not today, Hogan’s son.”

Talen took the knife. He would cherish it.

Harnock reached out and smoothed River’s hair behind her ear. “You are like Moon,” he said.

“Good-bye, Harnock,” she said.

He grunted, then bid them all farewell and walked with Chot into the woods. A few moments later, they were lost in the trunks of the trees. Talen hoped to see them again.

Shim’s little band moved forward. About an hour later, Talen watched from the skies as the Bone Face patrol arrived at the point where Shim had given his speech. Strangely enough, they encountered many vigorous wasps. And as Chot had predicted, the Bone Faces turned back. The swarms harried them for quite some distance. The next trail the Bone Faces could take that would connect was up Echo Canyon. But they wouldn’t know the turns to take. They wouldn’t even know that road existed. They might try to turn to the woods, but not being familiar with these lands, they would soon find themselves lost. And so the Bone Face patrol retreated.

The shrinking column of defenders moved forward. The fists and hammers continued to break away until the column dwindled to nothing more than the handful protecting the wounded.

Back by the sea, the Bone Faces pursued Mokad.