Reaper's Revenge (6 page)

Otaktay shook his head. He stabbed his knife one last time into the sand then hunkered there with the blade buried to the hilt, his fingers tensing around the handle.

“What became of the parasite?” Kasid asked, a cold finger scratching down his spine.

The Ceannus had ceased speaking and were looking at the Jakotai, awaiting his answer. Eleven other sets of eyes were staring at Otaktay as the
balgairs
who had accompanied their Ceannus masters to Terra turned their attention to the brave. Otaktay was staring into the fire, leaping flames reflected in his cold, black eyes. He was clenching and unclenching his fingers around the knife handle.

“What became of the parasite?” Kasid repeated, but Otaktay did not answer. Lexis Acklard was the High Lord of the Ceannus team that had been sent to Terra with the new rogues. Acklard’s was a powerful voice among the Assembly and he had been personally chosen by Raphian, the Destroyer of Men’s Souls, to lead this expedition to the backward world. He was a man the other members of the Ceannus feared, for Acklard had the great god’s ear. When he locked his penetrating glower on the Jakotai brave, everyone there held their breaths.

“What did you do when you killed Gibbs, savage?” Acklard demanded in a fierce tone that brooked no disobedience in answering.

Otaktay slowly raised his head. “It was still inside the foul one’s body when I sent it over the cliff.” He shrugged as though what he’d done was of no importance but his eyes flickered uneasily toward Acklard.

Acklard’s hostile stare bored into the brave. “Fool!” he named the brave. “You had better pray to whatever entity you worship that the revenant worm perished as the body decayed.”

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Reaper’s Revenge

Enraged at being called such an insulting name, Otaktay stood, dragging the knife from the sand. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. His jaw was clenched—a muscle working—as he glared back at Acklard.

“Try me,” the Ceannus high lord said so softly everyone there had to strain to make out his words. “You will not find me so easy a prey as Gibbs.”

There was something terrible in the gleaming black gaze of the high lord that made Otaktay think twice about engaging the man in battle. Evil such as the brave had never felt oozed from the being standing before him, and for the first time in his life, the Jakotai backed down before another man. Keeping his gaze locked on the strange one, Otaktay sheathed his weapon.

Kasid watched the brave drop back to the ground, hunkering down before the fire to stare into the flames. He let out his breath and watched as Acklard turned his back on the Jakotai, seemingly dismissing any threat that might have been forthcoming from Otaktay.

“He is not a man to be challenged,” Kasid told Otaktay.

The brave made no comment to Kasid’s remark but continued to stare unblinkingly into the fire.

Settling back against the rock behind him, Kasid shifted his attention from the red man reluctantly to the High Lord. Although he tried not to look at the Ceannus any more often than absolutely necessary, he could not stop from assuring himself where they were at any one given moment.

As was the same with the other two members of the Ceannus who had brought the
balgairs
to Terra, Acklard was well over seven feet in height and rail-thin with overly long arms and spindly legs that had far too much flexibility to them for a humanoid man’s comfort. Completely hairless, the heads of the Ceannus were very large in proportion to their body structure. Their thin—almost delicate—hands had four exceedingly long fingers and a thumb, which ended in bulbous sucker-like pads. Likewise, their feet had long toes with the same type pads. The beings did not possess ears and the slit of their mouths was lipless, opening to reveal a pale white orifice bracketed with twin rows of very small, very sharp barbed teeth. With pale gray warty flesh upon which no clothing was worn, oversized black slanted eyes devoid of pupils, a sharply pointed chin, and with a broad, flat nose with its triple row of vented nostrils, the Ceannus appearance was enough to make the hair stir on many a man’s arms. No other creatures in the megaverse were as gruesome in appearance as the Ceannus. Not even the Saurian race of reptilian beings held the same unsettling countenance. Combining their appearance and the total lack of any visible reproductive staff, the Ceannus’ look was one of malevolent strangeness.

Shivering, Kasid tore his scrutiny from the trio of Ceannus. He considered himself to be a brave warrior but the sight of the beings troubled him so greatly he knew his dreams would be filled with them that night. Even his parasite shrank down into the protection of his body and did not move when one of the beings was close by. 31

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

* * * * *

Cynyr could not sleep. Aingeal lay beside him but she appeared restless, her dreams apparently disturbing her as she slept. He could feel the edginess of both Arawn and Bevyn and knew the Reapers were as wide-awake as he. Lying with his head cupped in his laced hands, Cynyr stared at the ceiling. He was listening intently to the night sounds coming in through the open window. A light breeze wafted at the lace curtains and on it came the scent of evil that had plagued the Reaper since his arrival in Haines City.

“What is that smell?”
he sent to Arawn.

“I’ve no idea,”
Arawn sent back.
“But it disturbs me.”

“It disturbs me as well,”
Bevyn interjected.

Easing out of the bed, Cynyr was careful not to wake his lady. She needed rest for both herself and the child growing in her womb. Tucking the covers securely around her, he padded to the window, closed and locked it, shutting out the stench of evil that drifted upon the wind. Stealthily, he picked up his boots, shirt and britches and dressed quickly, not wanting to expend any energy in using his Reaper powers to clothe himself. When he was dressed, he retrieved his holster, laser whip and hat and left the room. Like a cat, he descended the stairs and was out of Moira’s house before anyone knew he was gone.

Arawn and Bevyn were waiting for him on the old woman’s porch. Although nothing had been said of it, the implication was clear—the Reapers had to find out what was causing the vile odor that so disturbed them.

“Which of us stays to guard the town?” Bevyn asked.

“You stay,” Arawn said. “Cree and I will hunt done this foul stink and see what is causing it.”

Cynyr was buckling his holster low on his hips. “There is death in that smell,” he commented.

“Aye, but it is neither human nor animal carcass we smell,” Arawn said. Bevyn looked out over the still prairie. “I’ve never smelled anything so tainted or vile. Be careful out there. I sense great malevolence coming from whatever is causing the stench.”

“And it is coming this way,” Cynyr said.

“I sense that too,” Arawn agreed.

While Bevyn took up guard at the outskirts of the town, the other two Reapers walked to the stable to get their horses. Being as quiet as they could, they saddled their mounts and rode out, taking the trail that led toward the mountains. 32

Reaper’s Revenge

Chapter Four

Otaktay sat brooding by the campfire, his powerful legs crossed beneath him. Stripped down to only his breechclout, the night wind chilled his bare back while the flames of the fire heated his chest. Around him, the rogues were sleeping fitfully. Now and again a wretched cry would be torn from their throats as hideous dreams invaded. The Ceannus had retreated back into the shiny interior of the strange coach that had brought them down from the skies. Kasid—the rogue appointed leader over those who had traveled from the stars with him—lay a few feet away, twitching in his uneasy sleep.

Measures had been taken by the Ceannus that would alert them to the stealthy approach of a Reaper. Those measures included several outlandish beings High Lord Acklard had called cybots that kept vigilant watch over the winding trails and access ways leading up into the mountains from the prairie stretched out below. Despite the bravura Otaktay presented outwardly to the other rogues, he was afraid of Acklard and the two other Ceannus beings. Their appearances not only frightened Otaktay, it sickened him that such things could exist. As disturbed by the Ceannus as he was, he was as equally unnerved by the four cybots that kept sentry around him. He did not trust the small sand-colored beings that moved so quietly along the ground they could not be heard. Their bulbous eyes bothered him for they saw everything—even that which could not be seen by human eyes. From their hands sprang lightning that could kill a venomous sidewinder in a flash of fire, reducing the serpent to ashes. When the strange coach had descended from the sky, Otaktay had been terrified and had hidden among the rocks, trying to make himself as small as possible so as not to be seen. The beings who had stepped down from the shiny coach had so stunned the brave, he had squatted there shivering, urine running down his bare legs. When the Ceannus had turned those horrible black eyes in his direction, he had felt his parasite taking over his body and despite all his efforts he had stood up, allowing the beings to see him.

“Greetings, brother,” one of the gray monsters said to him. “We are here to aid you in your destruction of the Reapers.”

Then the rogues had stepped from the bizarre coach. They did not look that much different from Otaktay, though they were obviously white men—except for the one called Kasid. Realizing these men hosted parasites inside their bodies, Otaktay had crept forward, wary of the strangers from the sky but curious enough about them to thrust his fright aside.

That had been several days before and with each passing day Otaktay grew more and more uncomfortable around the strangers from beyond the stars. 33

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

The Jakotai was out of his element with both the Ceannus and the rogues. He did not like being where the eyes of the cybots could observe his every move. The one called Kasid irritated him, for that one thought to govern what Otaktay was allowed to do and the high lord made the brave’s testicles tighten each time his dark stare settled upon Otaktay.

Making up his mind to leave the company of the strange ones, Otaktay uncrossed his legs and got quietly to his feet. His knife was strapped to his lean thigh and only his bow and quiver needed to be fetched. He dared not get near his horse for fear the beast would nicker a greeting and give away its master’s approach. After slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulder, the brave silently made his way from the camp and toward the lone cybot that patrolled the section of the trail leading down the mountain. Holding his breath as he neared the creature, he glared at the thing—daring it to interfere in his leaving—but the sand-colored being had been set to keep Reapers out and not to stop a rogue from departing. It ignored the Jakotai. Feeling sweat dripping down his chest, Otaktay did not relax until he was well out of range of the cybots and their unwavering stares. He was making good time down the trail for the moon was high and lit a pathway that kept him from tripping over strewn rocks. The only thought in his mind was to get into Haines City and retrieve the woman who belonged to him.

* * * * *

The stench was getting stronger. Cynyr and Arawn shifted in their saddles, the odor falling over and around them like a sodden cloak. It gave them a violent headache, made their eyes water with the pain. Even their mounts were skittish, being hard to keep under control.

Musky with a biting acridity that burned the lining of their nostrils, the smell so overpowering it beat at the Reapers.

“By the gods but I can feel it sliming my skin,” Arawn said, dragging his palm down his face.

“What the hell is it?” Cynyr asked. “I’ve smelled rotting corpses that smelled better than this shit.”

“Whatever it is, it’s making my horse tremble.” Arawn reached down to pat the steed’s neck. “And it’s close by.”

Overhead, the moon drifted behind a bank of clouds, casting the trail in partial darkness. A shriek sounded off to their left and the Reapers looked that way. The cry had come from a small animal and from the sound of it, the yelp would be its last.

“Look there,” Arawn said, pointing then tugging on the reins to halt his horse. A ripple of bright blue color lit up the sand about twenty feet away. The intensity of the hue faded almost immediately but it had been enough to garner the interest of the Reapers.

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Reaper’s Revenge

Cynyr dismounted, tossing his reins to Arawn. “I’ll check it out.”

Arawn felt a tremor of apprehension shimmy down his back. “Wait up, Cree,” he said. He swung a leg over his horse’s head and slid to the ground. “I don’t like this.”

Something moved off to Cynyr’s right—scratching against the rocks—and he stopped, looking that way. His night vision was excellent but that which had caught his attention had stopped moving. He kept his gaze locked on the place where he had heard the sound, however, there was nothing but stillness and a crawling feeling along his spine that made him tense.

“Whatever it is, we’re right in the middle of it,” Arawn said softly as he came to stand to Cynyr’s left. The left-handed Reaper was fingering the hilt of his laser whip.

“Aye,” Cynyr agreed.

Both Reapers remained perfectly still. Their acute hearing and heightened eyesight played over the sand. The malevolent odor wafted all around them, enclosing them within its vile perimeter, left an oily feeling residue on their exposed flesh. There was movement to their left and they slowly pivoted their heads in that direction. Then there was movement behind them—drawing closer, closing in. Their eyes met, their hands moved in front of their bodies to the laser whips hanging at their sides. Thumbing away the retention strap to release the dragon-claw whip handle on their gun belts, they eased the deadly weapons from the silver sheaths.

“You take the left and back,” Arawn said. “I’ll get the right and front.”

Cynyr nodded, gripping the whip tightly in his right hand. He shifted so his weight was on his left leg then pivoted quickly, the whip shooting out behind him in a fiery arc that lit the area around them as bright as the vanished moonlight. Arawn did the same and as the sizzling glow from his whip shone light upon the ground, both Reapers’ eyes went saucer-wide.