Curse: The Dark God Book 2 (35 page)

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Authors: John D. Brown

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Epic, #Historical, #dark, #Magic & Wizards, #Sword & Sorcery, #Action & Adventure, #epic fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Fantasy, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Curse: The Dark God Book 2
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“No true friend would ask you to throw your life away.”

“So I just leave them?”

“Warn them.”

“What? Now you want me to start a revolt against Shim and Argoth?”

“No. Respect their agency. Let them make their own choice, but do not bind yourself to a lost cause. There’s more than just one Order. The Groves of Hismayas have done good things. But the Groves were made to support the people, not the other way around. Live and fight another day.”

Sugar couldn’t believe he was just turning his back on them. They needed every dreadman they could get.

“Shim took a high-risk gamble,” Urban said. “If we could have killed all the Kains, that would have shaken them. It would have put their dreadmen at risk. If we could have taken the Skir Master, they would have had to resort to traditional tactics. And we might have been able to harry them through the winter. But there’s nothing to stop them now. You think you can beat a hammer of dreadmen on your own? Because if we’re to win, that’s what every one of us will have to do. They’ll have Walkers watching the night, kitemen watching the skies by day. And there are already traitors among us.”

She turned to Soddam. “You agree with him?”

Soddam rubbed his beard. “I think we have twenty-four hours. And then Mokad will unleash its fury. Shim’s little army will be brained like so many rabbits. There won’t be one of us left to piss against the wall. Shim’s dream is now over.”

“You can’t just slink away,” Sugar said.

“I don’t plan on slinking,” said Urban. “I plan to talk to Argoth and Shim. But I already know what they’re going to say.”

39

Ferret’s Choice

SUGAR AND URBAN left the crew at the edge of the woods and jogged down the road that led across the field to Rogum’s Defense. They entered through the gates and were met by the smell of roasting meat and found the cooks feeding the last of the troops that had returned with Shim and Argoth at the great hall.

“Get yourself some food,” Urban said. “I’m going to talk to Argoth.”

Sugar was all too happy to get herself a bowl of swamp. She’d been multiplied for some time and was famished. She made her way over to the great hall, got a bowl, and let the cooks fill it. The thick stew was warm and savory and had large bits of fatty goat meat in it this time. She ate two bowls and a thick heel of bread, then made herself stop even though her hunger had not yet abated because she needed to look for Legs.

She found him up on the edge of the north parapet petting a big calico, one of the fortress’s cats. He sat on an embrasure between two merlons, his legs dangling over the edge of the wall. There were still a number of people in the fortress below, but not near as many as there had been earlier.

“I thought you’d be by the gate waiting,” she said.

He looked up in her direction and smiled. “There was a lot of coming and going with the troops moving out, and I was only getting in the way.”

The calico cat nudged his hand with its head for another scratch. Legs scratched its head and said, “I heard the mission failed.”

“Not completely,” she said. “We killed a couple of Kains.”

“You should have taken Flax with you,” he said. “I don’t think Shim was smart to leave the only Divine killer behind.”

“Argoth hunted Divines once in his past.”

“If you’d taken Flax, you would have probably killed them all.”

“I see you’ve become one of his admirers.”

Legs shrugged. “You don’t need to be an admirer to see it was stupid to leave him.”

Sugar looked down the outside of the wall. It was a steep drop. “And I don’t know that this is a good place to sit. One bump and you’re over the edge. Come off of there.”

Legs helped the cat off his lap, then slid off the embrasure to the wall walk. “I’m weary of being left behind,” he said. “I want to fight. You and I could be our own fist.”

“We’ve only the one weave.”

“Flax says he might know how to make another.”

Flax again. “That’s a big promise, but I don’t see him much.”

“You’re not supposed to see him. He’s a spy. But he was here to kill that dreadman assassin, wasn’t he? It’s not easy to kill a slayer.”

“I suppose not,” she said. She looked at Legs and knew just what he was thinking. With a weave that would allow him to soulwalk, he could become a warrior. The Blind Warrior. That’s what they’d call him. And he could grow up to kill himself a slayer. Of course, it would take a number of years for him to train to become the fearsome thing he hoped to be. Right now he was just a boy. And if Urban was right, that’s all he would ever be. Yet another reason for her not to remain in a Grove that was going to be destroyed.

An insect moved on Legs’s hand. She looked closer and saw it was not an insect, but a ring that was black as flint. It shifted on his finger again. “What is that on your finger?” she asked a bit alarmed.

Legs stroked the ring. “Flax is teaching me the Kains’ lore.”

“When did this start?” she asked in surprise.

“Yesterday.”

“Nobody talked to me about it.”

Legs shrugged.

A faint alarm rose in Sugar’s mind. “Does the Creek Widow know?”

Legs didn’t reply.

“Legs, we aren’t supposed to accept weaves from anyone without her approval,” she said.

“The Creek Widow and Argoth are too busy to help me. But Flax isn’t. Besides, I was going to talk to her.”

“Sure you were,” she said, not believing a word of it. She could see this was going to be a problem. Legs had seen an opportunity, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. It didn’t matter who he learned the lore from. Of course she couldn’t blame him. Wouldn’t she do the same? “I think I’m going to have a talk with Flax when he comes back. Take it off.”

“You’re going to push me aside like everyone else? You run off, risking your life, and leave me behind. Why can’t I learn just a little bit?”

“You know I’m not pushing you aside.”

“Let me keep it. I’ve been studying it, following the pattern. I’ll be careful.”

She knew it would be hard to always stay behind, fretting and worrying. Da had made sure she could fight. To be something that acts for herself, and not just something to be acted upon. He’d probably want Legs to do the same. “I don’t know,” she said.

“There’s something about it,” he said. “Something odd.”

“I should say.”

“No, not the fact that it moves. There’s something else. I can’t quite describe it. But I feel it’s important. Please. I’ll make sure Flax goes and talks to the Creek Widow. We’d do it now, but they’re both out.”

“Let me look at it,” she said.

Legs hesitated, then he wrested it from his finger and gave it to her. She held it up to get a better view. Its legs suddenly moved, and then it flipped over and latched onto her finger. She gave a startled yelp.

Legs laughed.

“Do you have to quicken it?” she asked.

“It’s already quickened,” he said. “It doesn’t do anything. It’s just a piece to learn on.”

She waited expecting it to reach out to her in some way, but nothing happened. “Did Flax make this himself?”

“I think so,” Legs said.

“It’s a powerful lore to animate such a thing. From what the Creek Widow said about that monster the Devourer controlled, it’s very rare.”

“Which just goes to show they shouldn’t have left Flax behind.”

The ring clung to her finger with its legs, but it released when she gave it a good tug. “You promise to talk to the Creek Widow?”

“Promise,” Legs said. “I’m just practicing feeling its weave. Flax says that’s one of the first lessons.”

She looked more closely at the beetle: it was a wondrous thing, and she felt a little stab of jealousy—she wanted to learn this lore as well. And what harm could this do? Flax was obviously a master. “I think it’s nice that Flax has taken an interest in you,” she said, “but we still need to be safe.”

“Flax is safe.”

“I don’t want you wearing it until you talk to her. Promise.”

His shoulders slumped. “Fine,” he said.

Satisfied, she handed it back. Legs took it and put it in his pouch.

Down below, Urban exited Shim’s quarters. He walked over to the cellar where she and the washerwomen slept. The Mistress was there with a few of the women. He spoke to them, and then the Mistress pointed up at the wall where she and Legs were. He turned to look, and the Mistress pinched his bottom. Urban jumped and backed away to the merriment of the other washerwomen.

“I’ll be right back,” Sugar said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

She ran along the parapet, then down to the bailey and caught Urban as he was coming over to the stairs.

“A man is not safe with the company you keep,” he said.

“And yet you keep returning to them,” she said. “You talked to Argoth?”

His face went hard. “Yes,” he said.

Behind them, a number of soldiers were filling a wagon with bedrolls and packs. “Let’s talk where it’s less busy,” he said and led her out of the inner bailey to the empty goat pens.

“I explained my issues,” he said.

She waited.

“And they didn’t want to hear them. Shim says there’s a woman who can get them into the fortress.”

“Do you believe him?”

“He’s grasping at straws. Even if he could get in, I want you to think about what happened on the street today.”

“I don’t fear a little danger.”

“I’m not talking about danger. A man ran out onto the road and alerted the captain of that Fir-Noy terror. He pointed right at us. How could anyone have known we were there or what we were doing? We were all just part of the crowd trying to get a view.”

“What are you saying?”

“Somebody betrayed us.”

“Who?”

He shrugged.

“Not the Creek Widow. Or Argoth or Eresh or Shim.”

“I don’t know who it is, and we don’t have time to find out. More importantly, the facts are laid out in front of anyone with eyes to see. This army is going to be decimated and their souls carried off to Mokad’s Devourer.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve learned by hard experience not to ignore my instincts. There are many who depend on me.”

“We just need to remove a few of their men.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying. Just a few men guarded by thousands of dreadmen. Not to mention their Walkers that can see at night. Or the dogmen that surely will be on patrol. Sugar, even if Shim and Argoth do take this Skir Master, they still have an overwhelming army to contend with. There will still be Divines among them. I will not waste my men. Three died this morning. It was a risk we knowingly took. But facing Mokad’s army at this time in this place serves no purpose.”

If Urban, who was brave and skilled, saw no hope, then how many lesser men would be seeing the same? For the first time since the caves, she began question Shim’s odds. But running just didn’t feel right.

“Your hesitation does you credit, and I wouldn’t expect less. But consider what’s to be gained and lost. I’m a fair master. You’ll have equal rights with all the others.”

He reached out and lifted her chin with two fingers so he could look her in the face. “Purity’s daughter, carry on your mother’s legacy. Don’t waste her gifts.”

She looked into his glittering, but weary eyes. He’d never given her any reason to doubt his intentions or abilities. And it was true that he cared for his men and put them first. If she went with him, she could travel away from all these dangers and worries. She and Legs would finally be safe with people who accepted her as she was. And yet, it still felt like betrayal.

“Tomorrow the armies of Mokad will spread out,” he said. “Their ships will move away from Blue Towers and lock up the ports. My ship is faster than most, but I can’t outrun a chaser racing with a skir wind. Tonight is our window to escape. I’m all for fighting and risking my life in a good cause, but I’m not going to participate in a mass suicide. Meet me at Potter’s Crossing. Bring Legs.”

She couldn’t believe he was saying this.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’ll wait until sunset.”

She didn’t know how to respond.

He released her hand, smiled, then put on his hat. “Think about Legs,” he said. Then he turned and walked away, leaving her standing by the pens, the remnants of his kiss still tingling the back of her hand.

She watched him stride out the gate, and then she looked about her, at the men still on the wall, and the fortress where she’d spent the last months learning the lore. She thought about Legs. When all was said and done, her first duty was to protect him. And if Shim fell, that task would be impossible.

She walked back through the inner gates and into the inner bailey, lost in thought. All about her, the remaining soldiers and support folk were preparing to leave, but she didn’t really notice them. Nor did she notice the Mistress and two of the other washerwomen until they were almost upon her.

“There she is, ladies,” the Mistress said. She and the others were carrying baskets of rosemary for the laundry.

Sugar looked up. The Mistress smiled. “And are his lips honeyed? His bum certainly is.”

“What?”

“Honey, indeed,” the rotund one said. “Look at her. His presence has put her in a daze.”

The Mistress tsked. “I can’t blame you; he tempts the best of us.”

Sugar shook her head. “I’m not in a daze.” She turned to the Mistress. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh,” the rotund one clucked, “it
is
serious.”

Sugar gave her a look.

“I suppose we can’t talk here,” the Mistress said.

Sugar shrugged.

The Mistress read her look. “I suppose not,” she said and stacked her basket in a wagon. She took Sugar’s arm, then led her away from the others.

“I warned you,” The Mistress said, patting her hand. “Foreigners are tempting. You haven’t been rash, have you?”

“No,” said Sugar. “Nothing like that. He’s been nothing but considerate.” And kind, and helpful, and about as decent as any man she’d ever known.

“Well then?”

“Did you hear about Mokad’s army?”

“Honey Cake, nobody’s talked about anything else since Shim and Argoth rode through the gates.”

“There are some that say it’s hopeless to fight them.”

The Mistress looked down at her, gave her hand a squeeze. “It was bad this morning, wasn’t it?”

“It was close. The men were burning. We fought a dogman who struck with the force of a sledgehammer.”

“A dogman of Toth?” The Mistress said and raised her eyebrows. “Lords, girl, but you’ve got guts. Probably more than I do. You’re going to have to tell us this tale. I insist on it. And I think the ladies and I deserve the first audience.”

“You’ll have the details in full.”

The Mistress nodded, then took on a reserved air. “Were the dogmen at all”—she paused—“fetching?”

“Lords,” Sugar said, “you’ve got to be joking.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Only a little?”

“A woman can be curious,” the Mistress said.

“Of course,” Sugar said. She shook her head to herself. Where in the world would she find another like the Mistress? And how could she leave her? Or the others? How could she not fight to give them a chance?

She’d run away once before, when the odds were against her mother and Da, and she regretted it every minute.

Sugar said, “So if you thought this fight was hopeless, what would you do?”

The Mistress narrowed her eyes.

“We’re outnumbered ten to one,” Sugar said.

“Aye,” said the Mistress, “that’s what I heard.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“I’ve faced ten to one odds before.”

“You have?” Sugar asked.

“You’re not the only lass who’s had to pick up a sword. Or know that men are coming for you with murderous intent. I know what’s going through your head. Don’t let it take you. Don’t give into the battle dread. Everyone’s feeling it. But you hold on; it will pass.”

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