Take the body and give me the rest (2 page)

He walked up to
Seth, his black leather boots ringing across the polished
floorboards.

‘You look very
hungry my lad, very hungry indeed. But we’ll sort you out after our
little interview is over,’ he said.

‘Thank you, my
lord,’ Seth said, inclining his head.

He laughed. ‘No
“my lord” I’m a military man. But as it seems that you are also an
army lad, you can call me General.’

‘Yes, General,’
Seth replied.

‘You are an
army lad? Am I right? Short hair, good posture, relaxed stance.
Where are you from?’

‘I’ve just
spent two years on the line at Bloodcrest, sir; in the levies as
well.’

‘In the levies
as well? You’re too young to be lining up in the shield wall. But
still, it is the North. Few scraps against the neighbouring lords,
was it?’

‘Yes, sir, they
plotted expansion.’

The General
laughed. ‘They always do, son; they always do. Now, I need you to
do me a favour. You need to be quiet for a minute or two while I do
something. It may seem strange, but I want you to just listen to
what I have to say.’

The General
looked into the air and, in a language Seth had never heard before,
started to chant a string of dark and rough words. Immediately,
Seth was apprehensive. This looked like something the wise women of
the North might do. The General was chanting the short dark words
with more and more energy, pacing back and forth in front of Seth.
For the first time, Seth looked at the floor around him and saw
that he was inside a circle of strange objects, small stones, a
tiny skull, some bones and little metal boxes with runes carved
into them. He tested his chains; he was still fastened tight around
the wrists to the floor.

The words of
the General’s chant seemed to be filling with more and more power,
Seth felt as if the very air was beginning to thicken in front of
him, as if it were hard to see though. The power kept building like
a fog until the air in the circle was black and thick like a silent
storm cloud, with Seth at the centre. The fog rippled and began to
thin again; the black faded to grey. Seth could see that on the
other side of the fog veil, a large white shape was moving. He saw
it reach out. Four clawed talons ripped slowly through the veil and
into his land.

A creature that
Seth could never have imagined followed its clawed talons through
the rift to stand in the circle with him. It was in the shape of a
giant wolf but hairless. Its jaw was too long and held too many
sharp teeth. Its skin was a mottled and sickly white and its tail
was thin like a rat’s. It regarded Seth with piercing yellow eyes
and pushed its head towards him. As it did the stench of decay,
like that of a dead body left to rot in an abandoned field of
battle, reached his nostrils.

The General
looked at the both of them in the circle. The creature took up most
of the room but had the space to pace around the chained Seth.

‘Good of you to
come, creature, even if you were slow to arrive. Now, please take
the body and give me the rest.’

Seth was
breathing hard, trying to quickly manage the burst of fear and
terror the very sight of this thing had put into him. Northerners
had a different relationship with gods and other beings than the
Cravosi, and Seth knew that, above all, these beings demanded
respect but admired courage. When the creature had appeared, Seth
had gone to one knee, head lowered as a servant to a king in an
instant reaction.

The creature lashed out at the General with its awful black
talons. They struck the very air and were deflected. The General
laughed. ‘Every time you try that, beast, and every time you fail.
Now take the body and give me the rest. I’m tired of these
games
.’

The creature
stopped its pacing and regarded Seth. He felt its presence sweeping
through him, through every memory and private thought in a
heartbeat. It seemed amused by the smallness of his life. Words
boomed in his skull like a sword butt banging against a shield.

‘
Little Northern boy, at least you
know some respect and hunger too. I feel your painful
hunger,
’ it said.

Seth looked up
and met its eyes while remaining kneeling. He stayed silent but
kept looking into its eyes. Slowly, it moved its head and jaw
forward. It opened its huge jaw wide, and Seth saw into the mouth
with its double rows of impossibly sharp teeth and felt its warm
graveyard breath against his face.

The General
smiled as the creature slowly closed its mouth so the tips of its
teeth pushed against the skin of Seth’s throat and forehead. Seth
closed his eyes and said a prayer to his ancestors. He pushed away
his fear and prepared to die with a pure, fearless heart.

The creature’s laugh boomed in his mind, ‘
Very brave, little Northern boy, ready to end your tiny,
precious little life like a man. I don’t like people much, but I
like you more than him, so now do what I say and you’ll live a
little while longer.
’

Quicker than he
could see, the creature released him, with impossible precision and
grace; it slashed the metal restraints off his wrists and severed
the steel ring bolted to the wooden floor. The metal shackles fell
to the ground as Seth stood up in an instant and lashed out.
Obeying the creature beside him, he kicked out hard at a small
stone that created the circle of power. The little pebble rolled
across the hardwood floor a few paces towards the shocked face of
the General, and with it, the power of the circle faltered. The
creature rushed past Seth and leapt onto its past master.

Blood sprayed
up in a thick gout as the creature’s teeth ripped into the
General’s throat. The creature swallowed the bloody mass. Seth
stood, watching it devour the General, and felt a delicious yet
sickening feeling washing over him. With every bite the creature
took, he could feel the blood and the meat in his own mouth, sating
his own terrible hunger. He felt stronger and better with every
mouthful of the General’s bloody arm, hand, face, blood and bone.
The creature ripped, tore and swallowed until nothing was left of
the man but a pile of shattered bones, ripped open ribcage and a
bloody stain on the hardwood floor.

Seth sensed
another feeling upon him.
His muscles and body were heating up as if on fire, the heat
extending upwards into his skull. He experienced a torrent of
memories that were not his own but had been claimed as his. He
remembered another childhood, another life, other skills and
thoughts. Everything the General had seen and done was all there,
within him now, to call up at his will.

Seth stood as
the creature idly licked the remaining blood off the floor and
crushed a leg bone in its powerful jaw. His hunger was gone,
replaced by a feeling of absolute strength and vitality.

‘
You must run now, boy. They loved
this one and they will come for you for this. Take the
pieces
so
they can’t call me and only you can. They need them to protect
themselves when calling me but you won’t. I’ve chosen you’
it said in the booming, painful, wordless
talk.

‘Thank you for
your help, but, with respect, I won’t be calling you again,’ Seth
said.

The creature’s laughter boomed in his mind.
‘
Oh, you will. There are many kinds of
hunger, and I can help you sate them all.
’

Chapter 3

It was a good thing that the General’s mansion was near to
deserted of
people.
Seth crept cautiously out of the door he’d come in from. Walking
casually, he retraced the way he’d come into the house. On a row of
brass pegs, along the wall next to the back door, were a few
outside
coats
for the guardsmen and gardeners. Seth grabbed a long but
nondescript coat and threw it over his dirt-covered
clothes.

Grabbing the smooth brass handle, he opened the back door
without a sound and stepped out. The night air was crisp and cool,
and he still felt a rush of energy and power through him
.
It was like a deep reserve of strength like he’d never felt within
himself. He wasn’t scared to be caught and inside he felt as if he
could battle ten men. Still, he knew the creature was right and the
steward would soon raise the alarm and set out looking for the
newly bought slave who had left some shattered metal cuffs behind
and a bloody stain and ripped clothing where the General had
stood.

Seth walked
slowly but assuredly across the dark grass of the manicured lawn at
the back of the mansion until he reached the tree line. The back
wall was a large red brick affair. Seth jumped up, with his boot
kicking against it, until his hands made the top. No spikes or
broken glass, thankfully; he pulled himself over the wall easily
and dropped into the alley running behind with a small grunt as he
landed. Following Northern wisdom, he turned in the alley and
headed down towards the water and the sea. He had to find a place
to stay for the night and then make some plans for getting himself
homeward bound.

The city was
just coming awake now that night had truly begun. Men had started
their drinking early and down near the docks, where Seth had walked
himself, the taverns spilled out warmth and noise through their
rough plank walls. He spotted one with a sign of a buxom mermaid
which had jaunty friendly music issuing from inside. He could
certainly do with a cold drink after what he’d witnessed—a nice ale
to wash down the taste of the General, he thought with a
grimace.

A wave of
warmth hit Seth in the face and his slightly cold, numbed hands as
he walked inside. The music and talking didn’t stop as he entered,
and soon he found himself seated at the dark wood and highly
polished bar, on a tall stool. The room was filled with a good many
people, all arranged at tables and booths, with attentions cast to
a small rough platform where two fiddlers and a singer performed.
The fiddlers were two older men who seemed like they were brothers,
and the singer was a younger man around Seth’s age of nineteen. He
was telling the tale of the current king and how he’d united all
the dukes of Cravoss and the North. It was a nice epic song that
spoke of the years of peace that had followed and the happiness of
the people. Border wars between the dukes be damned; nothing to
ruin a good song.

Seth ordered a
tall glass of beer, though nothing compared to the lidded tankards
he was used to, and took a large draw. It tasted like bliss in his
mouth. The first real drink or flavour he’d had in his mouth for
nearly a week. In a few quaffs, the beer was down to the dregs, and
he looked at the bartender ready to get another. The bartender was
a large man with a trimmed black beard and scuffed leather apron.
He was heavily built and had a nose that looked like it had been
broken more than a dozen times in his life. He and Seth looked at
each other as Seth realised he had not a copper to his name and
couldn’t pay for the beer he’d just drained. The bartender must
have seen the panic written on his face.

‘That’ll be two coppers for the beer lad.’ That was an
expensive drink, two coppers
too
many. Seth just looked at him with a guilty expression. ‘You can
read the bloody sign, can’t you?’ The sign, which was the work of a
fairly talented wood-cutter, hung behind the bar, said, ‘Not even
the king drinks for free’—the joke being, of course, that Seth
along with most any other man you’d meet in this city couldn’t
read. Seth looked at the carved letters and was shocked that he’d
just in fact read it. Knowledge he’d never known came spilling
forth. He’d never been taught how to read in the Northern runic,
let along in Cravosi letters. Now he could clearly see each letter
and its meaning as the words seemed so clear and easy to
understand. He couldn’t imagine not knowing what they
meant.

‘Not even the king drinks for free,’ Seth read
in a flat tone, unsure if the owner had ever read it himself,
but just took the word of the carver on its accuracy. ‘Well,
friend, I’m not the king and clearly not even that would help
me.’

‘Why’d you order a bloody drink if you can’t pay? Are you a
thief? Planning on running when my back’s turned? Bad idea in this
tavern, lad,’ the owner said, starting to work himself up to
do
something
violent.

‘That wasn’t my intention, just a thoughtless act by someone
having a very bad night. What can I do to make it right?’ Seth
said. He started to breathe quickly
;
deep breaths, getting ready to fight.

‘You could pay
two coppers or maybe you can pay with some of your teeth,’ the man
growled.

‘I don’t want
to fight you,’ Seth said.

‘Not many do,’
the man replied.

‘It was my
error, but I’ll not sit still for a beating. If it’s a fight, then
let’s get it started.’ Seth stood up from his stool stared into the
man’s eyes, fists clenched. In the background, the room had fallen
silent, with even the minstrels stopping, and everyone turned their
eyes towards the bartender and the show about to unfold: him
thumping some pup was an almost nightly sport in this tavern.

The man stared
at Seth for a moment and then started laughing. He bellowed so the
whole room heard. ‘See the bloody balls on this lad?’ The room
broke out laughing as well. ‘So you can read, can you?’

‘I can write as
well,’ Seth said, knowing it was true, yet still amazed that it was
he, a soldier’s son, saying it.

‘Right, my
bloody copper-less scribe, you read me a letter and I’ll let you
off the hook for your drink and the teeth,’ the bartender said.