Of Bone and Thunder (26 page)

“Sounds like a case of friction burn,” Carny said. “Maybe if you left your cock alone for a few days, you wouldn't keep aggravating the area.”

“You're full of shit, Carny,” Big Hog said. “It's the nasty jungy-fungy. I need some snow. That'll fix me up right good. You got any?”

“Not for that,” Carny said. “Ask the fawn there.”

Big Hog pointed to Dornawk. “Hey, Knockers, you still got your snow ball?”

“My what?”

“Camphor,” Big Hog said. “Damn, son, if you were any greener, you'd be sprouting leaves.”

Knockers swung his haversack around to his chest and rummaged inside it. A moment later, he pulled out a leather-wrapped ball. He undid it and showed it to Big Hog. “You mean this?”

“There we are! Toss it over here. I'll square up with you tomorrow.”

Knockers hesitated, then tossed the ball. Big Hog caught it with one hand and immediately stuffed it down the front of his trousers. “Ah, that'll put things to right. I might not need it all. You want what's left back?”

“No . . . you can keep it,” Knockers said, his eyes wide.

“Mighty oak of you,” Big Hog said.

Knockers blinked and pressed on. “Sorry, but . . . about the mountain . . . wasn't that where you fought all those slyts?”

The air seemed to chill, despite the heat. Carny looked up to the sky. “Why don't we just rest here quietly?”

“I want to hear all about it,” Knockers said, ignoring the hint. “You really showed those slyts.”

“Fucking fawns, always looking to shoot something,” Big Hog said, his jovial mood melting faster than the snow in his crotch. “Don't have a single point on your rack and you're already looking to triple S and put some heads on your wall.”

Knockers's lower lip started to tremble. Carny sighed and not too gently punched Big Hog's upper arm. “He's just cranky because he hasn't planted a crop in a week.”

Knockers sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Poor bastard, fresh off a ship from the Kingdom less than a week ago.

“I'm not looking for heads. The LOKAM says—”

“Fuck the LOKAM!” came the collective reply from everyone within earshot.

Knockers blushed. “What does
triple S
mean?”

Big Hog snorted. “ ‘Slit some slyt'? See, three S's.”

“Slit some slyt,” Knockers replied, trying out the phrase as if he were afraid it would bite. “Do you guys do that? I mean, actually slit their throats?”

Carny knew he'd never been as big-eyed a fawn as Knockers.

When no one answered, Knockers pressed on. “I heard about you guys. All about the battle on the mountain. There was that big arrow clash with five hundred slyts one night. Almost overran the command post. All the news criers back home were telling the tale. How you guys killed over a hundred slyts.”

The low, contented murmur of the shield at rest vanished. Carny sat up straighter. “That's what they say? We fought off five hundred slyts?” He turned to where Wraith was sitting. The longbowman was watching the distant jungle while slowly sharpening one of his knives against a whetstone balanced on the top of his thigh. He acted as if he hadn't heard.

“The king himself gave your unit a citation for bravery in the field. Commander Weel was personally thanked. They even promoted him for it.”

“No shit, Weel?” Big Hog said, lifting up the rim of his helm to stare at Knockers. He swatted Carny in the arm. “Hear that? Weel got a personal mention. Funny, I don't remember him being in that ravine with us, do you?”

“It was dark,” Carny said, his happy feeling of a few moments ago bleeding away. “Who the hell knows? Who the fuck cares?”

Knockers was shaking his head. “Oh, no, you're wrong. It was big news back home. A lot of people cared. There's been talk of the war not going well, but when you guys held off those slyts and only lost one guy in return, that shut some people up, I'll tell you.”

The sound of Wraith's knife on the whetstone got louder.

“Yeah, one guy,” Big Hog said, sitting up straighter. “One guy
that night
.”

Knockers looked around, obviously confused. “I'm just telling you what I heard. I was happy when they assigned me to this unit. You guys are heroes.”

Wraith was on his feet in a blur. “You use that word around here again and you'll be Kingdom-bound as a handful of ash and bone in an urn.”

Knockers raised his hands. “I'm not being sharp, I really mean it!”

“Why don't you try shutting your fuckin' mouth instead?” Big Hog said.

Knockers looked at Carny. The fawn's eyes were pleading for help.

Carny relented. “Look . . . things ain't always what they say they are, you know? Up ain't always down, black ain't always white, and the war, well . . . it's not quite the way the news criers are telling you.”

“I . . . I don't understand,” Knockers said, looking from one soldier to another. “They talked about your battle for a week. Everyone was so impressed you only had one loss.”

“We lost a second man,” Wraith said. He spit on the ground near Knockers's boots, then sat back down and looked out at the jungle. He began sharpening his knife again, the blade pressing so hard into the whetstone on his thigh Carny thought he'd break the blade or his leg bone if he kept it up.

“They didn't say anything about that,” Knockers said. Sweat beaded on his face.

“He didn't die that night. It happened later, but it was an accident,” Carny said.

“What happened?” Knockers asked.

Big Hog flung himself up to a sitting position. “He ate a fucking signal star. Three days after our glorious battle, the Weasel goes and puts his crossbow in his mouth and squeezes the lever.”

Carny sat up. “Fuck that. Hog, it was an accident! He tripped.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep,” Big Hog said.

Silence reigned except for the sound of Wraith's blade on the whetstone. Carny could still see the bits of smoldering skull and brain. “Fuck,
Wraith, give it a rest,” Carny said, turning and flinging a handful of dirt at the soldier. “Any sharper and you'll be honing air.”

Wraith held the blade up and looked at the edge. “I'm going for a walk,” he said, getting up and leaving without another word.

“I . . . I'm sorry, I didn't know,” Knockers said, looking around at the shield.

“No way you could,” Carny said.

“Carny?” Knockers said quietly, scooting over so he was by his boots. “Why did you call that other soldier Wraith?”

Carny looked at Knockers and lay back down. “That's his Lux name. Just like I'm Carny, he's Big Hog, and you're Knockers.”

Knockers seemed to think about that for several flicks. “Why Wraith?”

Carny squinted, trying to spot Wraith and failing. “ 'Cause he just disappears. We get out in the deep green and you can't find him. It's like he's not even there.”

Knockers reached for his chest and Carny knew he had to be clutching a Sacred Tree pendant.

“Is he a thaum, do you think?”

“He's more dangerous than that,” Carny said. There were murmurs of agreement.

Carny lay back down and closed his eyes. He was certain he'd only closed them for a flick when he heard his name being called.

“Carny.”

Carny looked up to see Listowk sauntering over to the group. It was nearly dusk.

“We found something. I'd like you to take a look.”

The tone of Listowk's voice immediately put the hairs on the back of Carny's neck straight up.

“Me?”

“You,” Listowk said. “The rest of you, off your arses and keep a lookout. Wraith found a tunnel entrance. There are probably more.”

Carny leaped to his feet. There could be a fucking slyt aiming an arrow at him from under the rubble right now.

“Follow me,” Listowk said. He got up and moved away.

Carny scrambled to his feet and followed. Listowk moved carefully
through the debris until he reached a section of palm-frond wall. Several soldiers of the shield were crouched around it with their crossbows pointed at it. Wraith stood nearby like a cat that had just brought a dead bird home.

Listowk stepped forward and grabbed a corner of the wall. Holding a finger to his lips, he gently lifted up the section of wall. Carny leaned forward and saw the entrance to a tunnel. Carny looked at Listowk.

“I'll bet this is why we never found the little bastards on the mountain,” Listowk whispered.

Carny nodded while backing away from the entrance. “Clever.”

Listowk lowered the wall and walked a few paces away, motioning for Carny to follow him. “Someone needs to go in there and check it out,” Listowk said.

“Sure,” Carny said, unable to imagine who would be that stupid.

“Great, thanks for volunteering,” Listowk said, handing Carny a small brass lantern.

“What?” Carny looked around. The rest of Red Shield was looking everywhere but at him. “Are you mad?”

“Someone has to go down there. Sinte's been watching you. He thinks you have potential. I do, too. This is the perfect chance for you to show it.”

Carny wanted to scream.
Potential to be killed!
“What do I do if I find anything?” Carny asked.

“Hey,” Big Hog whispered, “Wraith found another entrance.” He was motioning to another pile of debris ten yards away.

Carny hoped that revelation would save him, but Wraith dropped down to his hands and knees and dove into the tunnel without a word.

“You'd best get going,” Listowk said.

Whispering a prayer to the High Druid, Carny walked back to the tunnel entrance. The Wiz lifted up the wall and gave Carny a smile and a nod. Carny ignored him and, crouching low, eased his way headfirst into the tunnel. His ass puckered to the point that he doubted he'd ever shit again. Visions of snakes and spiders filled his head as he willed his body all the way in the opening. When nothing immediately presented itself, he pushed the lantern ahead of him with one hand while he held his crossbow in front
of him with the other. The arms of the crossbow scraped the sides of each wall. There wasn't room to crouch, either, so he inched his way forward on his belly.

The tunnel walls were surprisingly smooth. The dirt was clearly hand-packed. Carny could only see a few feet ahead with the lantern as the tunnel took a sharp right turn.

The sound of the shield above vanished as he worked his way forward, aware of the gentle downward slope. Within a few yards the feeling of absolute loneliness gripped him and he started to shake.
I'm going to die here!

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to crawl to where the tunnel turned to the right, vowing to stop there and then back his way out. He counted to five, then eased his head out past the corner and looked down the tunnel. After a yard or so, it was black. Satisfied that nothing and no one was there, he started to pull back his head. A scratching noise made him stop.

Sweat poured down Carny's face, stinging his eyes. He didn't dare move his hands to wipe his forehead, keeping a death grip on the lantern and his crossbow. He strained to see deeper in the darkness, but nothing appeared.
Wraith.
It had to be Wraith making the noise.

A scream ripped through the tunnel. Carny jumped and squeezed the firing lever on his crossbow. The arms sprang forward, digging into the dirt walls and driving the stock of the crossbow back at Carny. A
thunk
echoed off the walls and the scream changed pitch to a low groan. Despite his mangled shot, he'd still managed to hit something.

Carny scrambled to back up and knocked over the lantern, extinguishing the light. The sound of scrabbling dirt advanced on Carny in the dark and he flailed to get away, but he couldn't get his crossbow unstuck.

“Wraith! Wraith!” Carny shouted, jacking his right arm back along his side and frantically feeling for the small dagger he kept in his boot. He tried bringing his knee up toward his hand, but the walls of the tunnel were too narrow. The end of the dagger handle remained a foot out of reach.

“Grab him!” Wraith shouted. He voice was muffled, but it came from somewhere in front of Carny.

“Grab who?” Carny asked as something touched his left hand.

Carny screamed. He sensed the presence of something directly in front of him and did the only thing he could. He lifted up his head until his helm hit the ceiling, then lunged forward. His helm hit something hard. Whatever it was groaned and something grabbed on to his wrist.

Screaming at the top of his voice, Carny head-butted the thing in front of him over and over until the groaning stopped. He ripped his arm from whatever had grabbed it and again tried to back up. His ears were ringing and his neck throbbed with pain.

“Carny, did you get him?”

The sound of Wraith's voice halted Carny. “Wraith? Holy fucking High Druid, what is it?”

An orange glow filled the tunnel from Wraith's lantern and the unconscious form of a slyt lay on the tunnel floor in front of Carny. Blood pooled beneath his head and Carny's crossbow bolt protruded from the top of his right collarbone.

“I got him. Son of a witch, I got him!”

The slyt moved, his head lolling from side to side. Carny lunged and hit the slyt again in the head with his helm.

“I smell blood. Are you hit?” Wraith asked.

Carny tried to slow his breathing. “No. But I got him good.”

“You pull and I'll push,” Wraith said, holding up his lantern.

“You want to bring him out?” Carny asked. He grabbed his lantern and unhooked his crossbow from where it had become wedged.

“Sinte'll want to see him.”

Fuck.
“Fine,” Carny said, feeling no such thing. He placed the handle of the lantern in his teeth and reached out with both hands to wiggle his crossbow free. Twisting the weapon at an angle, he placed it on the back of the slyt. Carny then grabbed the tunic of the slyt by its shoulder and pulled. The slyt slid surprisingly easily across the dirt floor of the tunnel.