Maylin's Gate (Book 3) (37 page)

"It's likely," General Demos said. "Had they chosen, they could've turned their arrows on us. They could shoot us dead this minute."

Chill's rippled along his neck. He glanced across the mist hanging low over the savanna. Were they out there in the mist? Out there watching them right now? “What about the rattling sound?”

“A warning perhaps? I can’t say for sure.”

His thoughts drifted back to a word Zeke used during their last conversation. "Zeke called you sansan. Do you know what that means?"

General Demos's eyebrow raised. "I heard the word, but it sounded like gibberish."

"It means nothing to you? Zeke seemed...sure of it somehow." His gaze drifted south over the endless savanna.

A land that stretched flat to the horizon. Long and empty. Foreign in every imaginable way. A land where he might wander lost for years.

How could he find the ruins in this vast uncharted world?

"We should go back," General Demos said. The general sat beside the fire staring off into the distance.

He narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Go back? We can't go back."

"We're lost human." General Demos panned the horizon. "Can't you see? Given time, the beasts that roam this land will have us. And the faceless man too."

"For me, there is no going back," he said. "We'll lose at least two weeks returning to the swamp."

"Zeke could tell us where to go," General Demos said.

"Are you sure about that? What if he's out of guides? What if no other banthers volunteers to lead us? After what happened to Tarbin, the tribe might tear us apart."

"We have no choice. We might wander these plains for a lifetime and not find the ruins. We don't even know what to look for. What sort of ruins are these? A single piece of worn stone? A collection of rocks hidden behind overgrown weeds? We don't know."

"Zeke said the ruins lie at the world's edge."

"That means nothing."

His face flashed hot and his adrenaline spiked. "That's easy for you to say. Isn't it?” He thrust his hand northward. “Your people aren't the ones under attack or have you forgotten? You and your kind came to our country to slaughter us. We're enemies General Demos."

General Demos's shoulders sagged. "That's not what I meant."

He spit out a short bitter laugh. "You expect me to believe that? You befriended a monster. She's come to these shores and slaughtered innocent people. Women and children.” His face trembled with rage. “Whole families. You let her get away with murder."

"Let her? No." The general's words came out a whisper.

"Why?" He screamed across the fire and his eyes welled with tears. "In Elan's good name, how could you let her do it? Those people did you no harm. We've done nothing to any of your people."

"You don't understand." A profound sadness settled in the general's eyes.

"Then explain it to me, please.” He perched on the leather pack using it as a makeshift stool. “By all accounts, you're a good man. You’ve saved my life on more than one occasion. You could’ve let me die, but you didn’t. You chose an honorable path. You’re a man I would call a friend under any other circumstance." His voice reflected his long-simmering frustration. The unspoken tension had gone on long enough. He needed this in the open to either bury or confront.

Tears welled in General Demos's eyes. "Tara came to our shores centuries ago filled with a bottomless pit of anger. Long before my time of course." The general's gaze drifted to the campfire. "She slaughtered thousands of baerinese. Her anger stormed for centuries. Tara grew an army on the souls of my ancestors."

"An army of the dead?"

General Demos nodded. "We couldn't fight back."

"You raise an army and you fight. You don’t just give up," he said. "That fate is far better than death."

"Don’t you think we tried?" General Demos stared into the fire through hollow eyes. "Many times in the early centuries. We raised armies and confronted her head-on. She slaughtered those armies without mercy. She turned the dead against the living."

Haunted words spoken by a haunted man. Goose bumps flared across his arms and back, but he remained silent.

"In the course of a single battle, her army doubled while Baerin's halved."

"Why didn't she destroy your civilization outright?"

"To what end?" General Demos's eyes met his. "She kept us contained, but needed our living flesh to replenish her forces. We could not defeat her by force."

"So you befriended her?"

General Demos nodded. "We’re a proud people, defeat does not come easy. I had no choice."

"How did it happen?"

"I asked to meet with her," General Demos said. "To plead our case. We formed a…friendship."

"You fooled her."

"At first," the general said. "But, I grew to know her as the decades went by and she softened."

"We're seeing the soft version?"

General Demos smiled. "She spoke of Elan's betrayal. Of humanity's betrayal. Speaking with me calmed the rage in her heart, but a creature like Tara still needs to feed."

“Feed?”

“Without taking life, Tara withers and her strength fades.”

A sickening lump sat heavy in his gut. "You let her…feed?"

"It wasn't a matter of letting her. She could choose to slaughter hundreds or a few. She wouldn't lay down her life no matter how many times I prayed for that to happen. The plan worked for many years. Then the flood came."

"The flood?"

"Our coastal lands flooded. Many believed the seas had risen leaving our great port cities flooded. When the water didn't recede, debate raged among our finest scholars. When the flood waters came inland we understood the truth. Our continent was sinking."

"So, you came here?"

"We spent another decade building a fleet. The task consumed every available resource our land had left to offer."

"Why didn't you wait for the fleet? Why did you and Tara come ahead?"

"Because of the barrier," General Demos said. "Tara feared the barrier. She said our entire fleet would sink if we hit it."

He stared at the dry grass between his feet. A barrier he'd destroyed by rebuilding Elan's Sphere.

"When she found the barrier gone, I ordered scout ships back to Baerin."

"And, you came here intent on destroying our civilization." He shook his head. "This all could've been avoided."

"Could it?" General Demos glared. "My people fled Meranthia long before Tara arrived. Forced from her shores by humankind."

"If that's true, no one living knew anything about it."

"Tara stoked the fire of debate with her hatred of humanity. She confirmed every fear and suspicion from the ancient past. Our war council decided against greeting humans as friends. We couldn't trust humanity."

"The stories I've heard of that time paint a different picture," he said. "The baerinese invaded Meranthia. They were the aggressors. A man named Gabriel forced them away."

"Is that what you'd like to do? Force us away? Am I helping you toward a prize that will end in our destruction?"

He recalled the images of the baerinese family out for an evening stroll. "No, that's not want I want."

"I viewed humans as monsters. A tyrannical race without compassion. An aggressor." General Demos’s gaze fell to the ground. “But, now….”

"Do you still believe that?"

General Demos met his gaze.

He held the general’s gaze for a long, tension-filled moment. Neither man spoke.

"I do not. Not anymore," General Demos said.

He let go a held breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “How do we stop the invasion?” He gazed north across the mist toward the swamp and the river basin beyond. Toward the danger facing them all. “We all face a greater threat. The world has to know.”

"I'm uncertain the war council will listen to me," General Demos said. "Keeping the alliance intact for so long has proved difficult. Without my presence, I fear the worst."

"We’ll finish here then force them to listen.” He met the general’s gaze. “Together."

"Will your people listen? Can we trust your generals?"

Could they? He imagined men who shared Merric Pride's worldview, but times had changed. "I believe there's room enough in this world for us all. I’ll convince them."

"Then I'll stand with you," General Demos said.

A warm smile spread across his face. "You're a good man Gregor Demos."

General Demos moved around the fire and stopped before him. The general offered a handshake.

He stood and took the general's hand.

"You are a friend to me and my people Ronan Latimer,” General Demos shook his hand. “I stand beside you."

He turned his gaze south toward the world’s edge. Would they have a chance to save the world?

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

A Lady About Town

Across the town square a soldier gazed in her direction. A wagon clattered past the inn and a the soldier and his friend staggered across the lane avoiding a near collision.

Tara clutched the pale-blue dress in her fists and stepped from the porch. Soft mud squished beneath her polished leather boots and she whispered a silent curse. How would she explain the mud to Jo? She would wash her boots in the horse trough if she had to, but she might not have another chance to find General Demos.

She peered in both directions and walked east toward the camp on the town's outskirts.

The drunken soldiers paused a dozen feet away and stared in her direction.

Her face flushed and the short hair on her neck bristled. Did they recognize her?

The taller of the two men staggered toward her hand raised.

She stifled an urge to scream. She could take both men and leave them for dead on the street. Their deaths might not even raise a suspicion.

The second soldier, a head shorter, followed behind. The soldier whispered words lost in the clatter of noisy travelers.

She dismissed the notion. With Lora's children and soul knights clogging every house and room she would suffer a quick death. Besides, these men had done her no wrong.

"Hello," the taller soldier said in a drunken slur. The man removed a hat stained with dried gravy and red wine. The soldier's lecherous gaze roamed the deep cleavage straining her bodice.

She stifled a burst of laughter. He found her attractive? Jo had performed a feat she hadn't managed in two thousand years.

The shorter soldier tugged on the taller man's sleeve. "Come on, Theron. If the captain finds out you've made a pass at a noble lady he'll have you shoveling horse manure all the way to Prynesse."

Theron pulled away from the smaller man's grasp. "I told you Jimmy, this is a fine lady and I'm a gentlemen." The soldier's words came out a rough uneven slur.

Jimmy's cheeks reddened. "I'm sorry m' lady. He means no harm."

She held her chin high and stared down her nose. "Your friend smells like a horse's rear end and looks like he's wearing last night's dinner." She glared at Theron teetering before her. "Kindly peel your eyes from my bodice and stand clear."

Theron glared and staggered sideways. "There's no need for all that."

"I'm sorry m' lady." Jimmy bowed and wrapped an arm around Theron's flailing body.

She brushed past the soldiers and allowed a grin after she'd left them well behind.

"You don't know what you're missing," Theron said staggering after her.

She pressed forward along the muddy lane past murky shops and gawking townsfolk. The wind stirred bringing with it horse dung mixed with cold spring mud. Glistening puddles stood in the lane reflecting light from a tavern. No doubt where Theron and Jimmy had spent the greater part of their evening.

She slipped past the shops and the few houses on Harlech's outskirts.

A pair of guards bustled by. The lead guard nodded. "Evening m' lady." The guard's bushy red beard stirred in the wind.

"Good evening sergeant." She offered the warmest smile she could muster.

"Will you need an escort home this evening?" The guard said.

"I'm fine sergeant, but thank you." Was this what it felt like for beautiful women everywhere? She could get used to this sort of attention. But, she couldn't linger. General Demos needed her now more than ever.

The guard nodded and continued toward the town square.

She slipped past the barren trees hovering like night watchmen over the empty road.

Beyond Harlech's last cottage, rows of white canvas tents stretched in long lines. Campfires dotted the rows where soldiers lingered. Blue shield light flickered beyond the tents and patrolling guards.

She pulled her cloak tight and walked past the tents and loitering soldiers keeping her head down.

Catcalls and whistles came from soldiers warming by a campfire. "I'd like to have her warm my bed tonight," a soldier said. Chuckles and leering whistles followed.