The Four Horsemen 3 - Famine (10 page)

Famine splashed in the water, bathing. Since only animals lived on the island with him, he wasn’t worried about anyone seeing him. He laughed out loud. Once upon a time, he used to be one of those humans, cowering in his hut during the night as the lions and hyenas prowled the darkness. Now he was one of the beings wandering the night.

He floated on his back, and stared up into the black sky. Death had stopped by shortly after Famine had arrived at the riverbank. He needed Famine to go up into Sudan. It seemed the drought going on up there needed to be worse. Famine shook his head. How could it get worse? A horrific amount of mortals had died, and even more were living on the brink of starvation. Yet it wasn’t bad enough to make the rest of the world take notice.

He cursed his job at times like this. He hated making sure the rains wouldn’t come, and the crops didn’t grow. At times dropping one more grain of salt on any ground or drying up one more river seemed to be too much for him. Unfortunately he was stuck, and no longer had any say in what he did. The choice had been taken from him the instant he’d died, and come back as a Horseman.

A grunt caught his attention, and he rolled over to look at the riverbank. Ekundayo stood there, holding Famine’s medicine bag. Shit. Famine had thought Ekundayo would sleep for the rest of the night, which was why he’d sneaked out to bathe.

Damn! He should never have taken it off, but sometimes he didn’t like swimming with it hanging around his neck. It felt like a lodestone, dragging him down when melancholy hit him, he’d remove it. He was paying for that decision.

“You don’t know what you’re messing with. Trust me. Let me open the bag. I’ll give you back the stone, and you can leave. I won’t stop you from going wherever you want.” Famine gained his feet, and walked out of the river, holding his hand out.

Ekundayo shook his head. “No. I can’t wait any longer. I can’t believe I actually caught you not wearing it.”
Famine inched closer to Ekundayo, not sure if lunging for the bag was the right thing to do. It might cause Ekundayo to jerk it out of the way, and if even one grain of salt dropped onto the ground the island was screwed.
He cringed when Ekundayo got the pouch open, and dug around to find the diamond.
“Here it is.” Ekundayo pulled the diamond out. “Why do you have salt in here?”
“Don’t let any of it drop to the ground, Ekundayo. Your life and the well-being of this island depend on it.” Famine hated threatening Ekundayo, but he didn’t know any other way to ensure nothing bad happened from his mistake.
“My life depends on not letting a grain of salt drop into the dirt?” Ekundayo held up the pouch and the diamond in his hands. “Exactly what kind of salt is this?”
“You don’t want to know, and I can’t tell you. Just make sure there’s nothing on your fingers or that rock before you hand me my bag.” Famine didn’t care about the diamond any more. His pulse pounded as Ekundayo stared at him.
“I’ve always wondered what made you different, aside from your all-black eyes. I didn’t insist you answer me before this because I was too busy trying to heal and get strong. Now I’m better, and I have my diamond, but I think I’d like some answers as well.” Ekundayo wrinkled his nose. “Truthful answers. Not evasive ones, telling me you work for a humanitarian group trying to keep the world in balance. You’re not doing a very good job at it.”
Famine halted just out of Ekundayo’s reach. He folded his arms over his chest, and glared at Ekundayo. “Are you blackmailing me? You’re risking so much to find out some answers you won’t believe to begin with. How would you know if I was telling you the truth or not? There’s no way to prove anything I say.”
Ekundayo pursed his lips as he thought. Famine watched him, seeing several bits of salt glistening in the moonlight on the diamond and Ekundayo’s fingers. There wasn’t any way he could convince Ekundayo to be careful.
A drought would hit the island. Thank the Gods, only animals lived on the island. They could make their way to the mainland or another island while this one recovered. Famine would have to move. He would leave, and go back to wandering Africa like he had for centuries before he’d settled down on the Zambezi River. Served him right—to have thought he could have had any kind of home after all the damage he’d done throughout the world.
“True, but I think you’re really concerned about this bag, and the salt. So I’m pretty sure you’ll tell me whatever I want to know.” Ekundayo transferred the leather strings from one hand to the other.
Moonlight flooded the spot where Ekundayo stood, as if some power wanted Famine to see what his foolish actions had wrought. Famine groaned as he watched one small grain drop from Ekundayo’s fingers. He’d dive for it, but the possibility of it hitting his hand was minuscule at best.
Death was going to kill him…or at least try to kill him when he found out about this whole debacle. Famine didn’t look forward to hearing the Pale Rider brag about how he had been right, and how Famine should have left Ekundayo to die in the desert.
At that precise moment, Famine did regret his decision to save Ekundayo, yet in the next second he realised he would probably do it again, even knowing the outcome. Famine dropped to his knees as the salt hit the dirt. Staring at the spot, he saw the tell-tale signs of the magic working. The salt leached water from the ground, drying it out like the Sahara Desert.
Ekundayo studied Famine for a minute before glancing down to see what he was looking at. He frowned when he saw the ground in front of him slowly cracking. Famine sighed, and bent forward to press his face to the dirt.
“What’s going on? Why is the ground drying up?”
Famine touched the ground once before surging to his feet and yanking the pouch out of Ekundayo’s hand. He quickly tied the bag, then hung it around his neck. Grabbing Ekundayo’s arm, Famine whistled. No matter whether he whistled or called for the horse out loud, his mount would show up when he needed him.
“Why are you whistling? What aren’t you telling me?”
Famine dragged Ekundayo to the clearing. “Stay right there. I’ll be back.”
He climbed into the tree house then grabbed the extra bits of clothing he’d gathered for Ekundayo, stuffing them in a bag. Famine put on some shorts before slinging the bag over his shoulder and returning to the clearing. He didn’t even look at his lover as he stalked over to the storage bin he’d hidden under some brush. He filled the bag with fruit and dried meat.
He tossed Ekundayo the bags as he approached him. “Here. Take these with you. I’ll take you back to Botswana. After that, you’re on your own. I should have listened to Death, but no, I thought I knew better. Taught myself a lesson. Don’t trust the voice in my head.”
Ekundayo caught the bags, and tucked the diamond inside one of them. Famine paced from one edge of the clearing to the other. Where was his mount? Why hadn’t the horse shown up yet?
“Tell me what happened back there. I deserve an answer.” Ekundayo grabbed his arm and yanked Famine to a stop.
Famine turned on him. “You’re kidding, right? You deserve an explanation about what’s going on? I told you not to look for the diamond. Were things so bad here? Did you want to leave that much? Why didn’t you trust me enough to understand I wouldn’t have stolen the rock from you? I don’t have any need for a diamond.”
“You don’t need a diamond? Who doesn’t need a gem worth thousands of dollars? Here, even twenty dollars would get me food and water for everyone in my village. Yet you don’t need any money at all.” Ekundayo shoved him. “Who the hell are you, Fami?”
Famine exhaled loudly. Well, why not tell Ekundayo? Death was already going to be pissed off. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.
“My name is Famine, and I am the Black Rider.”
“Famine?” Ekundayo frowned.
“Have you heard of the Four Horsemen?” Famine went back to pacing.
Ekundayo lifted a shoulder. “I might have. It’s a Christian belief, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. The Christian Bible speaks of us, but we exist outside any religion. We are here to keep the world in balance. When there is too much evil or too much good, we ride, and try to even things out.”
“How can there be too much good?” Ekundayo clutched his bags to his chest. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. It was strange to me as well, but there must be good and evil in equal amounts. If there’s too much good, humans lose the incentive to try harder, to make their lives or the world better. That’s why there must be wars, diseases, and famine. It’s why Death rides the pale horse, and collects souls along the way. It’s why the Horsemen exist.”
“And you’re Famine?”
Famine wandered the clearing, already mourning the trees and brush edging the area. “Yes. There’s a special salt in the pouch around my neck. If even one grain touches the ground, all the water evaporates, and plants and crops begin to wither and die. You saw what was happening by the river.”
Ekundayo looked over his shoulder back towards the river. “You’re joking, right? What kind of salt does that? I mean, I’ve heard of sowing the earth with salt to keep your enemies from being able to grow crops after they’ve taken your land, but this is a little extreme.”
“Everything I do is extreme. Unfortunately, a lot of the time it doesn’t matter what I do, humans are going to ruin each other’s lives. I’m tired of doing this, Ekundayo. I simply want to go to whatever is waiting beyond for me. Yet I’m not allowed to die.” Famine ran his hand over his braids, wishing his horse would arrive so he could take Ekundayo back and find some other place to be.
“I’m having a hard time dealing with this. You’re one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I thought they were legends or myths, whatever you want to call them.” Ekundayo looked at him, studying Famine like he was a bug under a microscope.
“What else do you need me to tell you? Trust me, I’ve already told you more than I should have, but I figured since you helped turn this island into foul ground… It’ll take several years for it to recover. I’m hoping, since it was only one grain, it won’t do too much damage. As long as it lies fallow for a year or two, the trees will start growing back.”
A snort from behind them made them turn around. Grunting, Famine stalked over to the black stallion. He touched the horse’s neck, and it bumped him with its nose.
“Where have you been? I thought you’d show up the minute the salt hit the ground.”
If horses could shrug, Famine would have sworn his mount had done so.
“You’re right. In the grand scheme of things, this little island doesn’t really matter. It’s not like anything except the foliage will die. The animals can move to another island or whatever. No humans live here.” Famine ran his fingers through the horse’s mane. He leaned closer to the stallion’s ear. “I was an idiot, wasn’t I?”
The stallion lifted its head and eyed Famine. It snorted, but, when he heard footsteps behind them, Famine wasn’t sure if his mount was reacting to his question or to Ekundayo’s presence. Famine turned to meet Ekundayo’s gaze.

“Is this your horse?” Ekundayo asked, not sure what to say.
“Yes. I’m Famine, and I ride the black horse.”
“Right.” Ekundayo nodded his head.
How should he act when it was apparent that Fami was delusional? Everyone knew the

Horsemen were just legends. Even Ekundayo knew it, and he didn’t follow the Christian religion. He met the red gaze of the stallion Famine was standing with, and a shudder trailed down his spine.

Horses didn’t have eyes that colour, at least none of the creatures Ekundayo had encountered did. It was fitting, considering that no man had eyes the same colour as Fami’s.
“Okay. Say I believe you, and accept the fact you’re Famine. How did you become a Horseman?”
Keep the crazy man talking, and maybe what he said would eventually make sense— that was Ekundayo’s plan.
“I have been a Horseman for over a thousand years. I was eighteen when I died. Was actually killed by the shaman of my village. I was a sacrifice for rain.” Fami tugged on one of his braids. “I fought against human sacrifice. I thought there had to be a different way to appease the Gods, and bring the rain. We had suffered droughts for three consecutive seasons, and my tribe had grown frightened.”
“Seems rather harsh,” Ekundayo commented.
Fami shot him a glare. “They believed in gods that controlled everything from the weather to the migration of animals across the savannahs. It’s not a surprise they would believe the shaman when he told the villagers the Gods wanted a human sacrifice to make it rain. I don’t blame them for that.”
“Who do you blame then?”
Because something in Fami’s voice told Ekundayo he was bitter, and if it wasn’t about being sacrificed, then something else must be bothering Fami. Maybe Ekundayo should start thinking of him as Famine, considering that’s who he thought he was.
“I blame the shaman who was jealous of my power, and sought to get rid of me so he could remain the most important man in the village. He confessed it to me as I bled to death and the rain came down, washing his guilt away.” Fami curled his lip in disgust. “He stabbed me in the side to ensure I died.”
Fami laid his hand on his side where the vicious scar Ekundayo had noticed before was. Well, that could be one explanation of how Fami had received the wound.
“But you didn’t die. You’re standing here talking to me, so, unless I died as well, we’re both alive.”
Fami shrugged. “I don’t know how it happened. I did die. I felt my life force leave me as my blood dripped to the ground beneath me. My vision went black, and when I opened my eyes again I was in a barren place. It was a landscape I’d never seen before or since. Death was there to greet me.”
“Really? He’s been around that long?” Death didn’t really look that old.
“It’s not the same Death. The one you’ve seen has been the Pale Horseman since the seventeen hundreds. I’m not sure what he did to be selected to be Death.” A frown marred Fami’s forehead as he thought.
“Maybe it was the same way you got chosen.” Ekundayo didn’t know if he was encouraging Fami’s mental instability by asking questions.
“It’s doesn’t matter.”
Both Ekundayo and Fami jumped as another voice joined their conversation. Turning, Ekundayo saw the pale-haired man staring at them, disgust and annoyance clear in his black eyes. Ekundayo fought the urge to bow his head, as though he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.
“I see you didn’t take my warnings to heart, Famine.” Death curled his upper lip. “I wonder why I talk to anyone if no one listens to me.”
“Quit bitching,” Famine snapped. “You were right. Is that what you want to hear? You’re always right, and we should always listen to you.”
Ekundayo glanced between the two, wondering if he should leave or not. He even took a step in the direction of the river. Death held out his hand, and shook his head.
“You stay right where you are. You’ve done enough damage and I don’t trust you not to do more if you’re out of my sight.”
Ekundayo lifted his hands to shoulder height and asked, “What else can I do? I’m still not sure what I did in the first place.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you, but you don’t believe me.” Fami turned to look at his comrade. “Let me take Ekundayo back to the riverbank. Let him see what one grain of salt from my medicine pouch has already done to the land.”
Death contemplated both of them before nodding. “Go ahead. Maybe seeing what the ground looks like now will give him enough of an idea that you aren’t delusional.”
Fami grabbed Ekundayo’s arm and dragged him down the trail, back the way they’d come. Ekundayo didn’t say anything, deciding it was the best option at the moment. While he might not believe Fami, there was something about Death that made Ekundayo hesitate to do anything else to annoy him.
They rounded the curve in the trail, and Ekundayo gasped at the desolate sight greeting him. Where there had till just recently been vibrant foliage, there was now nothing but brown, dead leaves and cracked soil. It was like the drought had somehow jumped the river, and affected the island. He blinked, and then stared as the brown seemed to spread at a noticeable pace.
“It’s not possible,” he murmured, taking a step out into the affected area.
“You might not want to think so, but this is what I do. I travel the world, sowing drought and famine. I’ve never really taken any time off. The longest time I’ve ever rested was while I took care of you.” Fami gestured towards the dying section of the riverbank. “Do you understand why what you did was so terrible? It will take months—if not years—for this island to return to what it once was.”
“How is that possible? It was just one piece of salt.” Ekundayo was shocked.
“And yet it was a piece of salt from my pouch, which is different from normal salt. It must be, since I sow something far more terrible than simply keeping the ground from growing a crop for a year or two. I can keep anything from growing for decades or centuries, if I so wish.” Fami’s expression grew grim. “Do you understand the responsibility I carry? The awful power I command? This isn’t something I make up because I want people to feel sorry for me.”
Famine snorted, and Ekundayo realised he had to start calling him by that title, because it looked like he was the real thing. It never crossed Ekundayo’s mind that Famine might have taken him to a different part of the island where the plants had died, simply to try and make Ekundayo think he really was Famine. It had been the one place Famine had taken him to every time Ekundayo had needed to wash.
“Who would believe me enough to feel sorry for me? If you hadn’t seen the proof with your own eyes, you would have continued thinking I was crazy.” Famine sighed, and motioned for Ekundayo to follow him.
They made their way back to the clearing, and Death stood next to the black horse, arms still folded. When they approached him, he speared them with his gaze, and smirked.
“By the look on your face, I see you believe us. Now it’s time for Famine to take you back to where he found you. You have your diamond back, and it’s none of our concern what you do with it.”
Ekundayo could tell Death meant what he said. There wasn’t any lenience in his tone. Of course, when you’re Death, there really shouldn’t be any. Earlier, Ekundayo had removed the diamond from the bag and stuck it in his pocket. He touched the lump, making sure the diamond was still there.
“We didn’t take it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Famine commented as he approached the black stallion. “How would we? Neither one of us has been anywhere close enough to you to pick your pocket.”
“I could, if I wanted to.” Death bragged to Ekundayo.
“Stop it. I’m taking him back to where I found him, and you can tell me you were right later.”
Famine swung astride his horse, and held out his hand to Ekundayo, who glanced over at Death. The pale-haired man rolled his eyes before stepping away from the stallion. Ekundayo reached out and grasped Famine’s hand, letting Famine pull him up behind him. He sat there for a moment, trying to decide what to do with his hands. Should he wrap his arms around Famine’s waist? Should he rest them on Famine’s hips, avoiding any more intimate touches?
“You should put your arms around him,” Death suggested. “It’s going to be a rough ride.”
“Isn’t it impossible for your horse to get us back to Botswana? I would think carrying two people would be very hard on him.” Ekundayo didn’t know why he’d said anything. It wasn’t like Famine would even care what he thought.
“Don’t worry about the horse. He’ll be just fine carrying both of us.” Famine looked over his shoulder at Ekundayo. “Encircle my waist. I don’t want you falling off before we even get going.”
Ekundayo did what he was told. He put his arms around Famine, letting his hands rest on his stomach. He did his best to ignore Famine’s hot skin and the scent of sunshine wafting by his nose. There wasn’t any point in finding Famine attractive. The Horseman would dump Ekundayo back near the mines, and disappear again.
Famine nudged his stallion with his heels, and the horse whirled around on its hind legs. Death moved out of the way and nodded as they raced past. Ekundayo tried to move with Famine, bending with every movement of the horse. They shot down the trail, dodging tree branches and rocks. Ekundayo had never moved so fast, almost at the same speed of the battered truck he’d ridden in as a child.
He heard the splash of water and, when he lifted his head, he gasped. They were running across the surface of the river towards the fall. How could that be possible? Yet, if Famine really was who he claimed to be, nothing he did would be impossible.
Ekundayo shifted his gaze from the water rolling under him to the quickly approaching drop-off. Famine wasn’t going to jump off the top of the falls, was he? All three of them would die, and what would that accomplish except killing them? Of course, as a Horseman, it appeared as though Famine couldn’t die, so maybe it didn’t matter to him.
He hoped the horse, at least, had more self-preservation than to let Famine ride him over into the chasm. Ekundayo swore he heard a snort right before the horse leapt from the ground and into the air. They plummeted towards the chaotic water below.
Ekundayo screamed in sheer panic, and clung to Famine’s solid body. He buried his face between Famine’s shoulder blades and prayed the Horseman knew what he was doing. When he thought he couldn’t take any more of the anticipation of hitting the water and dying horribly, everything went black.