Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong) (26 page)

He couldn’t believe that she could stay so calm. “We do.”

She stepped even closer to him, chest to chest. He felt her small
, soft breasts pushing into him. She tilted her head up ever so slightly. “Are you going to hurt me, Aaron, to avoid offending a God who isn’t even here?”

Aaron’s lips parted, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Are you?”

“No.”

“This is damnation, Aaron, dearest of my friends. You and I, we strangled some happiness out of it, all for ourselves. You and Alice are going to strangle out even more. You have no reason to feel shame. We did nothing wrong.”

Aaron could not believe how beautiful she looked. “I wish that were true. We could have brought a child into this Hell. No one deserves to be born into such a place.”

“You aren’t going to sleep with Alice then? And I know my cycle. It’s not like on earth. You know we don’t sleep together when—”

“That one time—”

“Then that one time was the mistake, not what you did with me. Now I’m your friend, so I’m going to talk to Alice for you. I’m going to tell her how you love her. I’m going to tell her how you came to me to end us.”

Aaron was surprised at how hard he was breathing. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” Her finger left his chin, and ran slowly down his chest. Aaron was surprised by how much his body was responding to her. She looked down, noticed, and smiled. “And I can’t say I’ll miss sleeping on your ridiculously hard mattress.”

Aaron laughed. “Thank you for talking some sense into me.”

She winked at him. “I’m not going to lie, it’s going to be hard to replace you. Only, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course. Anything.”

Chelsea’s hand dropped to her side, moving her robe a little and outlining her figure. “Kiss me goodbye.”

She was right there, only inches away from him. Her eyes looked so sad.

Aaron nodded. “Of course.”

He leaned forward, and their lips touched. Suddenly her hands were all over him. Aaron could not remember her ever being so passionate.

She wanted a goodbye something, but it sure as hell wasn’t a kiss.

The door curtain opened without anyone having knocked on it. Chelsea shot up from the sheets, shouting. Aaron rolled over to his side, reaching for his gun.

Michael stood in the doorway.

“Sir?” Aaron asked.

“You’re going.”

“Sir?”

“To the Carrion. Gather your men. You’re going.”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you! The villagers need this.”

But Michael hadn’t waited to hear the praise. The door curtain fell shut. In the quiet of the Harpsborough night, Aaron could hear the man’s heavy footsteps on the stairs.

“No,” Chelsea said. “Baby, don’t go there. You can say no.”

He realized then, for the first time, what exactly it was that he was trying to do. A chill passed down Aaron’s spine.

Oh fucking God. I’m going into the Carrion.

“No!” Rick shouted. “Why? Why would you want him to go with you?”

Arturus cringed in his room. Rick and Galen had been arguing about something, but now their voices were loud enough to carry through the home.

“It’s his decision,” Galen responded.

“Is it? Should it be? What good can he do you in there? He’s hardly more than a boy. Don’t you feel anything?”

“La’Ferve will be out there, Rick. I can’t fight him with a horde of Maab’s men nipping at my heels. I’ll die without help. I need a gun I can trust out there. Plus, I’ll have the hunters in tow. There’s too many of them for me to take care of.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

“He’s already better than you. You know that.”

“In a crisis? Are you sure about that? Is this a rational decision? When you come back with Turi dead, what are you going to say?”

“We don’t have all the time in the world, Rick. An Infidel Friend came down the Thames the other day, remember? Pyle’s back, sniffing around. We can’t hide here forever. I’m going to make sure he’s ready for when the time comes.”

“Or you’ll make him dead.”

“Or dead,” Galen agreed.

Arturus didn’t feel guilty for overhearing this conversation. Their voices had become so raised that he couldn’t have helped it. Their words sent his mind spinning.

At first he felt pride.

Galen wants me to come.

But Arturus was confused as well. Why would he be of any help in the Carrion? Why would Galen say he was better than Rick? Could that be true? What were they getting him ready for?

But one question stuck in his mind, drowning the others out.

Who is La’Ferve?

“You’re leaving,” the Infidel Friend told Aaron.

Now how in the Hell did he know that?

The man accepted his bowl of spider guts and eggs with two hands. He was sitting cross-legged in a corner. The man’s posture reminded Aaron of the way Japanese people sat in old samurai movies. “You’re too kind.”

Aaron watched the man eat with his fingers in that practiced way of his. The Infidel Friend ate slowly, as he had the last time Aaron had watched him.

Like a Citizen, not like a villager.

“I am,” Aaron admitted. “I’m going to a very dangerous place.”

“For a purpose?”

“Rescue.”

“The boy, Julian.” The infidel intuited. “The one you were afraid my people had captured.”

Aaron rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept much last night, so he was surprised to find sleep in them.

Don’t forget, he’s dangerous.

Aaron let his hand fall to his side, closer to his pistol. The infidel took no notice.

“That’s right,” Aaron told the man. “Julian. I’m going after him.”

The Infidel Friend stared straight into his eyes. Aaron didn’t let himself back down from the gaze.

“Dangerous. Like near the Pole?” the infidel asked.

Aaron shook his head.

“The Carrion then.”

Aaron nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

“That is dangerous,” the Infidel Friend said. “And perhaps only slightly less so, with the demons being so thin. Even an infidel takes care when entering that place.”

“But you do go?”

“Not often, but my people have been there. Perhaps I could make you a deal. I’ll escort you through the Carrion and help you find this boy. If I find Julian, then set me free.”

“Never.”

“There is a saying in the East, and it goes like this: ‘It’s okay to hold hands with a devil for a mile, when crossing a bridge.’ And to boot, I’m not even a devil.”

“You’re close enough. What can you tell me of that place?”

The Infidel Friend stood up from the floor in that funny way of his, and then sat down in Staunten’s chair. “It’s dark. You’ll need to bring torches. Huge veins of whetstone run through that place. Light can’t flow through whetstone, and you’ll find even skystone without illumination. The ancients, who knew the secrets of mining the substance, used to live there long before the Carrion’s current devils showed up. You’ll find their signs, their words of warning written in Latin. You won’t know what it means, of course, but you’ll wish you did.

Hell’s architect was busy there. There are many traps. Stone floors that fall away into pits. Ceilings that fall to crush you. And worse.”

“I think you’re trying to scare me so that I will take you.”

“I have no need, Aaron. You’re terrified already.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“A hound can smell fear, you know. Not that it matters very much. They’ll try to kill you even if you smell like a daisy, but you can tell they know. Except for the angle, a hound’s eyes are so much like a human’s.”

“I’m not afraid of hounds.”

Fitch said the hound sign was almost five feet high.

The Infidel Friend leaned back in his chair. He was healing a little too quickly for Aaron’s taste. His movements were more fluid now. He didn’t seem as stiff, or as fearful of pain.

“You’re healing well.” Aaron said aloud.

“I am. Your village has been kind to me, considering that you hold me to be your foe. I have appreciated your rations very much.”

“You’re only getting half of what the villagers are.”

“And they, only half of what you get.”

“Not everyone deserves the same treatment,” Aaron said.

“I cannot help but agree with you. But it is important to note that many men have given their lives fighting against that principle.”

“You’re just saying that because we’ve got you locked up.”

“I am.”

Aaron laughed. “I hope the Citizens are merciful to you in your trial.”

“You and I are in agreement there.”

The infidel chewed thoughtfully before handing Aaron his empty bowl.

“Why are you here?” Aaron asked suddenly.

“Endymion, one of our leaders, sent me scouting. I came farther when I heard the settling, and stayed longer, because I noticed there were so few devils.”

“I’m afraid we’ve killed them all.”

“I’d considered that as a possibility.”

“What’s he like, the Infidel?” Aaron asked on impulse.

The Infidel Friend leaned forward, and put his elbows on his knees. He looked down to the stone floor. Aaron could see a clean space on the stone, where Staunten’s mattress used to be.

Every night I sleep on bedding. He sleeps on stone.

“Have you met him?” Aaron asked.

Soon enough, if we can’t find Julian quickly, I might be sleeping as you.

“I have,” the infidel responded, his eyes still downcast. “That’s a good question. Not all of us have. I fought with him at the Well. It’s difficult to describe the man.”

“I’ve told you enough. You should give back a little.”

“Reciprocation comes between friends, not between guards and prisoners.”

“Maybe, but it looks to me like you need all the friends you can get.”

“Do you even remember my name?”

“No. But you can tell me if you like.”

“Cris Caledon.”

“Can I call you Cris?”

“You’re the one with the gun. You can call me Susan for all it matters to me.”

As always, Aaron found himself disarmed by the man’s sense of humor.

“We infidels worship nothing but humanity. Did you know that? We consider people and their wants to be more important than God’s or Satan’s—”

“You’re not answering the question.”

“I am, be patient. We call ourselves infidels because Hell was made by some devil. We don’t accept morality by fiat. The Creator of the universe doesn’t decide what it is. As soon as there is sentience outside of a God’s, then morality becomes an opinion. That the consequences of this universe are dictated by Satan is merely an accident of power.”

“I’m not here for preaching. I’d go to Father Klein if I wanted that.”

“Very well. The Infidel is a hero. Like Achilles when he slew the river, except not blinded by rage or put off by jealousy. He’s like Wotan, standing against Fenris and the tides of Frost Giants as they assault Valhalla. He’s like Aeneas marching forward to slay Turnus. He’s like your David, facing Goliath, except that he would never send a man to die that he might have his woman.

“I fought for him in the Well. That’s when I met him. The Icanitzu kept coming down like rain, and we had to fight them from the walls of the cliff. I despaired. I broke, inside, like people do sometimes. When the devils were gone and defeated I was still broken. When the Infidel came to me I lied to him. I told him my lover had fallen in that battle. I couldn’t bear the thought of being so weak in front of him.”

Aaron felt as if he was paralyzed by the man’s words. He had never imagined that he would ever be face to face with an infidel, let alone that he would be receiving war stories from one.

“He told me his lover had fallen, too,” the infidel was saying. “I was lying, you see, to try and express the truth. I was trying to express to him how much I was hurting. My boulder was more than I could bear, and I should have told him that rather than make up some fantasy. I admitted my lie to him, then, so that I could say that I told the truth.

“You lovers of God, you claim that unconditional love is some great virtue that you aspire to. But it’s useless. Even your own God doesn’t practice it. Look at us down here, tortured. Taking the pain of this universe and turning it inwards towards ourselves. Imagine what it would be like if God or Satan really loved us. If they actually
had our best interests at heart. If they cared about our achievement or self-actualization. If they wanted to help you attain greatness rather than claim it for their own. That’s how the Infidel loves people, Aaron.”

Something about the infidel’s words made Aaron unnaturally angry. His ears felt hot. “Who are you, to judge God?”

“Who would I be, not to?”

“How could you look at our failures, and attribute them to Him? Are you not willing to take any responsibility for your actions on earth? We’re here because we failed.”

“At what?”

“Loving Him.”

“Why on Earth would we have wanted to love Him?”

Aaron shook his head, clenching his fists at his side. “You fool! He sacrificed His Son for us.”

“Well not us, per se. We’re in Hell. But I must admit, even on Earth, I was a bit bemused by the Crucifixion. He absolved me of a crime, Original Sin, which I did not commit by means of a sacrifice I didn’t make, and then creates some big ado over the whole thing. But hey, I thought at the time, if ole Yahweh wants to sacrifice Himself to Himself to save us from Himself, bully for Him—so long as He does so responsibly and without hurting anyone. Looking back at it now, He probably didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt.”

“He loved you, Cris.”

“He did not! He didn’t love you either. He sent us to an eternity of punishment for a finite crime. At least if we sent Him to an indefinite punishment, He’d deserve such a thing for having inflicted it.”

Aaron’s rage boiled over. “You’d damn God?”

“I doubt it, actually. I consider myself to be a good man.”

“God is good. He is the source of all that is good. You cannot claim that he is evil since he is the one who defines what evil is.”

The Infidel Friend laughed. “Perhaps he is good, but he would send people here while I would not. Which is more likely, do you think? That I am more merciful than an all loving God, or that you are somehow mistaken about his nature?”

Aaron had never before heard such blasphemy. His gun flew from his holster into his hand. The infidel was on him before he could look up, gripping his wrist with both hands. The world spun as he was forced down to the ground. He felt his elbow pop and he shouted as the gun fell out of his hands.

He shook his head, not sure how he had been dazed. Sweat dripped down along the side of his face.

Not sweat. Blood.