Torn By War: 4 (The Death Wizard Chronicles) (29 page)

WHEN AYA AND the weary Tugars finally arrived at the oasis named Wuul, Rati and Kithar greeted them. By midnight, they and the other warriors had cleaned up, eaten, and gathered around several small fires, while the noble ones slept off to the side, under heavy guard.

“What now, Asēkha?” Aya said, sipping from a skin of Beydoo wine. To the Tugar, the wine tasted watery but refreshing. “Including the noble ones, we number close to nine hundred. That’s a lot of mouths to feed.”

Rati chuckled. “That shows you just how exhausted I am by my duties as escort. Normally I would be driven to learn our exact count, but I’m too tired right now to bother. Still, I don’t intend to make light of your concern. It appears we have only two choices: Remain here and wait for aid from Anna; or gather supplies and attempt the march.”

“With most of our warriors divided between Nissaya and Jivita, there is food aplenty in Anna. In Wuul, we would have to share with many others, unless we forced them to leave, which is not our way.”

“Neither is it our way to bow our heads and do as we are told. The Beydoos will do anything within their power to assist us. Most of the others are not so cooperative, but they owe us favors. Since it is likely Anna has already sent aid, I believe our wisest course will be to remain in Wuul for a few days, at least. I don’t think the noble ones could tolerate an immediate march. As we both know, a lot of sand lies between here and Anna.”

Aya agreed. Then he lowered his head and grimaced. Rati was amazed to see tears on the warrior’s cheeks.

“I lost
fifteen
.”

Rati leaned over and placed his hand on Aya’s shoulder. “You did what you could. This is war, after all.”

“If you had been with us, fewer would have fallen.”

“Your sorrow is understandable, Aya. But your words lack merit. The plan was sound. And though fifteen fell, all the others were saved. Your warriors could not have fought much longer. You had no choice but to attempt the destruction of the pass.”

Aya’s blue eyes glistened in the firelight.

“If only
The Torgon
were here. He would have defeated the fiends all by himself. His strength is needed in Tējo, not in faraway lands.”

“His people miss him.
I
miss him,” Rati agreed. “But as our Vasi masters like to say, we have to play with the cards we are dealt.”

Aya grunted. “My master claims to have made that one up himself.”

Whether out of mirth or just relief, both laughed so loud that several dozen Tugars woke from sound sleeps.

TO ASSIST RATI and the noble ones, Asēkha-Dvipa allowed his son Appam to take ten warriors, one Vasi master, and thirty camels laden with supplies from Anna to Wuul. At the same time that Aya’s warriors were doing battle with the army of fiends, Appam and his small company journeyed southwest with as much water, wine, and food as the camels could manage. The overloaded beasts moved slowly, snorting and spitting as their hooves bit into the crusty sand.

On the second night since departing the Tent City, the refugees began to appear, fleeing eastward from things born of their worst nightmares. Most approached the Tugars and begged for food and water. But there were too many. Eventually Appam was forced to refuse them even a sip, realizing he was sentencing some to death.

“Go south to Wuul,” he told them, but many did not listen.

Rumors of a fiend grown to titanic proportions had increasingly disturbed Appam. At first the warrior discounted these stories as panicked ramblings, but after a while he began to give them credence. Too many different people described the same thing: a hideous woman, more deadly than a Kojin, with a mouth large enough to swallow a grown man whole. Appam’s desire to learn the truth became obsessive.

“Does this giant truly exist?” he said to the Vasi master during a predawn breakfast.

“Of course it exists,” the master said, surprising the warrior with his casual response. “Even so, we are commanded to reach Rati and the noble ones as quickly as possible.”

“That can still be achieved, if one short,” Appam said.

“Who will you send?”

“Myself, of course.”

“Leaving me in charge? And to think I had hoped this venture would be relaxing. There’s no rest for the weary, I like to say.”

“Yes, you do.”

“If you encounter the giant, what will you do?”

“Kill it. Do you think me incapable?”

“If you are incapable, then so are all but a few.”

Though he felt guilty for abandoning his original assignment, Appam left the company and set out westward with two skins of water and a belt-packet of food. Along the way, he encountered hundreds of refugees. At first he asked many if they had seen the giant; only a few said yes, but enough to further convince him of its existence and whereabouts. But before, during, and after answering questions, the refugees begged for food and water. Eventually he found himself hiding to avoid their heart-wrenching pleas. He had enough provisions to last a few days, but only for himself.

Near dawn of the following morning, he crossed over a dune and came face to face with a fiend, the first of its kind he had ever seen. But this was no female colossus. Instead, a man of ordinary size stumbled toward him, his left arm appearing to have been bitten off above the elbow. At the base of a dune, Appam studied the fiend for a spell, circling the monster while easily avoiding his lunges. When Appam felt he had learned enough about his enemy, he stepped forward with his right foot and made a lateral cut to the midsection. Steaming intestines, swarming with black, wiggly worms, spilled onto the sand. Though the monster was slowed, it kept on coming until Appam finally cut him clean in half with an even more powerful stroke.

As if in response to the killing, Appam heard screaming beyond another tall dune. He trotted to its crest and stood slack-jawed. In the middle of a level area far beneath him, a monster as large as a Kojin was pursuing a lone woman. Despite its enormous size, the beast was fast, gaining ground on its prey with every stride. But the size and speed were not what stunned Appam; instead, it was the giant’s face that disturbed him. Though discolored and bloated, it remained barely recognizable as Sister Tathagata, whom the high-ranking warrior had guarded at the havens for several months.

Having left Tathagata and Asēkha-Tāseti soon after reaching the mesa, Appam knew nothing of what had occurred to the High Nun and other noble ones. Now he stood on the crest of the dune and stared, unable to move, his mind racing through a myriad of possibilities. Had the fiend army somehow attacked Tāseti and the noble ones? That didn’t seem possible; it could not have traveled that far south that quickly. Were rogue individuals spread all over the Gray Plains? Appam could not fathom it. But when the terrified woman screamed and stumbled, Appam overcame his daze and started down the dune, shrieking as he ran in hopes of distracting the monster from its prey.

This tactic saved the woman’s life, but not for the reason Appam might have imagined. Upon hearing his shouts, the fiend came to a halt just a pace from the woman, turned toward the Tugar, and smiled. Appam’s heart froze. The monster bizarrely resembled the smile of the one he so fondly remembered.

Ignoring the woman, the giant strode toward him, fangs glistening. Appam drew his
uttara
and prepared for a fight.

A quarter-mile farther west, a small group of what appeared to be more fiends stumbled toward them, but Appam paid these others little heed. If they died as easily as the first one he had encountered, they would present little problem. But the giant that approached was another matter. She was at least twice his height and four times his weight; yet despite her gargantuan size, she moved on the surface of the sand with eerie fluidity. As the sun crept above the horizon, a wave of heat rushed over the sands. Appam began to sweat profusely, though he wasn’t sure what was more to blame: the temperature or his horrific opponent.

The giant came within ten ordinary paces—though only two of her own—and stopped. Thick strands of drool dangled from the corners of her bulbous lips. An odor, fouler than rotted flesh, caused Appam to gag. The giant smiled again, eerily resembling a blown-up version of the High Nun of Dibbu-Loka.

“I do not fear you,” Appam said loudly, “but neither do I wish to harm you. Do you remember me,
Perfect One
? I am Appam of the Tugars, keeper of the havens. Often we spoke. Often we laughed. Always I respected you.”

Within the more-obvious lust and anger, an expression of puzzlement emerged on the giant’s face. Without warning, she screamed so intensely that Appam took a step back. Then the fiend placed her huge hands against the sides of her skull and pressed with tremendous force. A grotesque assortment of growls, cackles, sobs, and shouts came from her mouth, as if more than one being resided inside her head. Then the cacophony abruptly stopped, and he shuddered as the monster whispered, “Appam . . .
flee
.”

THE EAR CANAL was cramped, greasy, and wretched. The moth incarnation of Vedana felt right at home. To coerce the fiend into doing her bidding, the demon alternated sweet whispers with barked commands.

Still, without Peta around to refresh her memory, Vedana was having a difficult time keeping track of the proper sequence of events. Appam’s appearance erased her doubts. Vedana remembered precisely that this desert warrior was to be the first Tugar victim. Once he was devoured, the evil that resided in Sister Tathagata’s flesh would grow irresistibly strong. After that, Vedana’s lone remaining duty would be to guide the giant to Anna. The fiend would take it from there.

However, Vedana continued to find it disconcerting that Peta had remained uncertain about what would happen once Tathagata reached the Tent City. The Simōōn already would have been lowered, that much was clear, but once Anna was under assault, what then? There appeared to be several potential scenarios.

“If you’re keeping the truth from me, there will be severe consequences,” Vedana had said to the ghost-child.

“I’m not lying, I’m just unsure,” Peta had replied. “Lately, it’s happening more and more. Regardless, what does it really matter?”

“I want the Tugars weakened . . .
more
than weakened . . .
decimated
! You know that as well as I. Why do you ask such stupid questions?”

“Won’t what happens at Nissaya and Jivita be enough to satisfy you?”

“
I’ll
say what’s enough!”

Still, Peta had been correct when she said that the destruction of Anna was just an added bonus. And to be honest, Vedana was having fun. What could be better than a front-row seat to carnage?
Like grandmother, like grandson
, Vedana mused.
Invictus would enjoy this too. Though the irony is, he’s so wrapped up in Bhayatupa and Mala, he’s unaware any of this is happening.

Speaking of fun, Sister Tathagata’s constant nagging was anything but. No matter how hard Vedana tried, she couldn’t stop the High Nun from making occasional appearances. Everything Tathagata said from her hidey-hole deep inside the fiend’s splattered consciousness irritated Vedana.

“If you do not care for others, who will take care of you?”

“Shut up!”

“If you harm another being, it is the same as harming yourself.”

“Shut up!”

Each time these inner debates occurred, the beast clenched her skull. But Vedana was not alone in her attempt to eliminate the remnants of Tathagata’s sanity. The collective will of the
undines
that swarmed within the High Nun’s flesh also wanted her to keep quiet, making it easier to tap into her mental library for their own benefit.