The Warrior King: Book Three of the Seer King Trilogy (13 page)

“I assume,” Mangasha said, “if this happens, we can take Traptain and Jeritza with us.”

“Of course. No one tries to negotiate with a demon when he’s ripping at your throat.”

“No,” Mangasha agreed. “Not even someone like Traptain.”

Further, I went on, I wanted him to post sentries on all the roads and tracks, so there’d be no surprise. If Tenedos attacked by magic, it’d likely be at night, so each hamlet must have watchmen out.

“Especially here, at the main compound.”

“I’d already thought of that,” Mangasha said. “There’s been sentries posted every night since you’ve been back. And there’s some other things I can do … not to fight back, for I’m not enough of a sloth-brain to think I can outfight or outthink our emperor that was, but to keep the worst from happening.”

He sighed heavily. “These are not good times, are they, Damastes?”

“No,” I said slowly. “No, they’re not. But perhaps, if we do like the rabbits, and hide deep in our burrows, we’ll be overlooked.”

“Perhaps,” Mangasha said, and there was doubt in his voice.

Two hours later, Perche and I rode away with the messenger after the Man-eater of Belya.

• • •

Belya’s district supervisor, a harried man named Hokon, met me in the refugee-crowded village of Megiddo to give me what information he had about the leopard.

He showed me on the vague maps, the best he had, where the creature had last struck, or, rather, where he’d marked his new territory, and terrorized three villages so badly that their inhabitants had fled here, where they clamored for food, shelter, and most of all, a wizard to kill the demon.

“What do you believe the creature is?” he asked.

“I have no beliefs,” I said. “I haven’t seen this leopard yet, so don’t know if it’s mortal or not.”

“And you’re not worried if it is a demon?”

“Of course I’m worried,” I said. “Do I look that much of a dunce?”

“No, no, of course not,” he said, pulling at his wispy hair. “Forgive me, but these are not easy days. I don’t know if you’re political, but Hermonassa and Ticao have both declared for the Emperor Tenedos, Cimabue hasn’t, and I’m being pressured from the governors of those other states to stand with them. I simply don’t know what to do, what to do at all.” He peered at me closely. “You look like someone I should recognize. Are you sure you’ve never had anything to do with the government?”

“Very sure,” I lied. I’d not bothered to dye my hair again but had kept it short, since the easiest disguise is the best.

“Good, good,” he said. “I wish to Irisu I’d chosen a simpler life. Now … forgive me, but I have other matters I must attend to. If you wish to speak to anyone who saw the leopard’s attacks, my assistants can locate several.”

I did, but the interviews produced little of value, for by now the villagers’ stories had grown, the more they were repeated from inn to bazaar to teahouse, and the leopard was about the size of an elephant, with several sets of fangs, the ability to leap over banyan trees, tear huts apart to get at their shrieking occupants, and so forth.

I thought of purchasing another bullock or some such animal for bait, but we were several days’ journey from the leopard’s territory, and I didn’t think much of dragging some terrified animal that distance. From what I’d been told, there were many animals that’d just been abandoned that I could use.

Early the next morning, we followed the narrow jungle trail that led into the jungle’s heart. The track was easy to follow, littered with clothes, furniture, things the villagers had thought vital for their existence that had grown heavier as the miles and fear increased.

One day, on the trail, five small men came out of the brush and watched me approach. They were armed with very long spears and very light crossbows and wore loincloths and caps fashioned from the capeskins of monkeys.

We could barely be understood, but I managed to tell them I sought the great man-eater. They looked frightened and chattered amongst themselves. The best linguist managed to say that they were sorry I was so cursed, for I seemed to be a cheerful sort, and they would speak well of me to their gods after I’d been slain. One wanted me to give him my sword now, for I’d have no use for it when I met the leopard-demon, but I reluctantly had to tell him no, I might need it in the encounter, for it’d belonged to my father, and besides, not even the gods knew everything to be for certain. I thanked them for their uplifting sentiments and support, distributed presents of salt and charms I’d bought in Megiddo, and bade them farewell.

The three villages the leopard had desolated formed a rough triangle on the slopes of a jungled valley. Through the center of the valley ran a river, and on its banks were the ruins of an ancient temple. One villager had said the leopard lived in these ruins, which proved he was a demon, for no honest creature would chance the wrath of the old gods.

First was to establish a safe shelter. The first village I went to had burnt after the villagers had left, and there were only two huts standing. I considered using the temple as my shelter, but my arrogance didn’t run that deep. If there were any of the old gods hanging about, it’d be unlikely they’d be pleased by having their home profaned.

The second, and farther, village was intact, and its inhabitants had built a stockade around it. The gates were closed, and I wondered if some brave, or stubborn, sorts were still living there. There was no answer to my halloos, but the gate was barred when we tried it. Perche shinnied up the wall as deftly as he went up a coconut palm, peered over, and almost fell back.

He came down quickly, his face pale.

“They’re … in there … dead …” he managed, then turned aside and threw up, shoulders convulsing.

I drew my sword, peered through a gap between gate and wall, saw nothing terrible. But I smelt rotting corpses. There was room enough to slide my sword through the gap and lever the bar out of the way. It thudded to the dusty ground within, and I pushed the gate open.

I’d seen more ghastly things than Perche had, but still my stomach recoiled. Sprawled inside the gate was a man, his guts ripped out and half-eaten, his face torn away. Next to him was the rusty scythe he’d tried to defend himself with. Ten feet away was a woman’s body. She was unscarred except for clawmarks across her throat. Closer to the scatter of huts inside the palisades were the bodies of two children, at least one of whom had been partially eaten, and a donkey, whose neck jutted away at an unnatural angle from the leopard’s smashing blow.

“How … how did … what …” Perche managed.

My skin crawled. The answer was horrible, and I began to believe this leopard wasn’t a natural being. The family must’ve lived distant from this village and hadn’t known of the evacuation. Perhaps they’d heard the leopard at night, as he growled around their hut, and fled to the village. They found its gates open and the huts empty, but the crude fort promised safety, and so they hurried inside, and hastily barred the gate.

Then they heard the leopard’s snarl …

Inside the stockade with them.

Perche fumbled a short spear from one of our mules’ packs, peered about, expecting the leopard to appear from the dust, from nowhere.

I examined the bodies, ignoring the stench and my revolted stomach. The blood was black, clotted not long before. I pinched flesh, found it pliable. The death stiffness had passed, so, in this heat, it probably meant they’d been dead less than a full day.

“We must give them death ceremonies,” Perche managed.

I was about to agree, then a rather disgusting notion came. I pondered it, and it made a deal of sense.

“No,” I said.

“But …”

“We’ll use them for bait. Instead of hunting the leopard, we’ll let it come to us.”

A ghastly thought, but if this monster had grown fond of the taste of human flesh and was so complacent he hadn’t even bothered to carry the carcasses away to a hiding place, unlike most leopards, that seemed my best tactic. And leopards, man-eating or no, prefer their meat somewhat on the gamy side.

What was really worrisome, which I didn’t tell Perche for fear of further terrifying him, is that the leopard must’ve slain the family in broad daylight, once more against the creature’s normal habits. So the man-eater was beyond fear and stalked these hills as their master.

Perche swallowed hard, nodded jerkily. “If that’s what you think best.”

“First, though,” I said, “we find something to put our backs against.”

We turned the largest hut into a stable, so the leopard wouldn’t be distracted from his nicely ripening meal. I made sure no real beast could smash in the door, and we blocked the windows with hay bales.

It was only a bit after midday, and so we ate. Or rather, I ate. Perche kept looking at the bodies, wrinkling his nose against the growing reek of their corruption.

I chose a hut close to the village’s entrance and laid bow, arrow, javelin, and stabbing spear next to its doorway, unrolled a sleeping mat and positioned it near my weapons, keeping my sword close at hand.

There was nothing to do but wait for nightfall.

I passed the time looking through the abandoned huts, wondering at what people had chosen to leave behind. There were preserved foodstuffs I doubted anyone would grudge me for the evening meal. But even though I saw hand-carved chests that would’ve held the people’s treasures, I refrained from looting any further.

With one exception. Hanging on the wall of a large hut whose well-kept furniture indicated it belonged to one of the village’s more prosperous residents was a sword. It was very old-fashioned, such as I’d seen in museums, probably as much intended for ceremony as use. It had a curved, single-edged blade that was still fairly sharp and an ivory handle inset with gold. It was perfectly balanced, and the smith who’d forged it had known as much about fighting weapons as craftsmanship. But I took it because its hilt and pommel were of silver, and silver had been worked into the blade for its full length. I studied the engravings, warriors and demons fighting, the soldiers dressed as they would’ve in my grandfather’s grandfather’s time.

The shadows were growing long as the sun sank below the valley walls. I heard birdsongs, then the outraged squabble of monkeys, disturbed at their meal. I went to the gate, listened closely. Suddenly, there was complete silence.

Far distant, I thought I heard a soughing cough.

The leopard was out there.

• • •

I put Perche in the shed with the animals, told him to keep the door braced shut and not come out unless I summoned him … and make sure it was really me who called, although how he was supposed to make sure of that, if it was some shape-changing fiend, I didn’t know.

I crept to my chosen hut and lay down just inside the doorway and waited. One thing soldiering forces is patience.

The moon rose, and its light crawled through the door toward me. Dust tickled my nose, but I didn’t cough. A homeless flea from one of the hut’s former residents bit me, and I didn’t move.

It grew late, and still later. But I wasn’t sleepy, nor restless, for the jungle beyond the village was still silent, listening to the killer in its greenery.

I don’t know what brought me to full alertness — an almost unheard sound, a smell, something out of the ordinary.

I looked out at stillness, trying to determine where the leopard was lurking. There, close beside that hut? In the lengthening shadow of the wall, approaching the corpses? To my right, within the village?

There was a rustle from behind me, from
within
the hut, a soft thud onto the dirt floor, and a
rrrowl.
I spun, going for my sword, but late, too late, and a medium-sized, scrawny, abandoned tabby cat meowed plaintively.

• • •

Before either my heart stopped or I exploded in hysterical laughter, the night rumbled, and the leopard clawed over the walls.

There was nothing out there, nothing at all, but then darkness moved. If my eyes hadn’t been flickering here, there, as I’d learned to see at nighttime, I might not have seen it, and the beast slid forward, toward the woman’s body.

I was up, out of the hut, javelin in my hand, and I cast hard. The spear whipped through the air, buried itself a hands-breadth from the creature. A normal beast would have been gone, but this monster crouched forward toward me, jaws gaping, growling menace. It was big, far bigger than any leopard I’d ever hunted, and I stepped back into the hut, grabbed a short stabbing spear, and started toward it, braced for its leap.

I vow, in that instant, the stars flickered, as if something had moved across them, and then a voice rumbled across the valley, and I knew the voice:

“You should have chosen when I gave you the chance,” and the leopard changed, rose to its haunches, grew until it was twelve feet tall, and became a man, but a man with the dripping fangs of a leopard, and its hands were taloned and flames flickered where its eyes should have been. It came toward me, in a strange walk, like a dog trained to cavort on its hind legs.

I feinted, and it batted at the spear tip, then a clawed arm lashed out. I ducked aside, and the other claw ripped at me, tearing across my chest, and pain seared. I dropped to my knees and rolled, came back to my feet, spear still in hand, and jabbed, one-handed, taking the monster just above the thigh, but no more than a superficial wound.

Again it slashed, and struck me full on with its pad, sending me stumbling back, spear flying. The leopard screamed, like a woman in anguish, but this wasn’t its pain but mine, soon to come. It dropped to all four legs, was about to spring, and the door to the other hut opened, and Perche ran out, spear leveled like a battering ram. The leopard spun aside, came up with a slashing right into Perch’s guts, and he screamed, went spinning away.

But his death gave me the moment, and my father’s sword was in my hand. I cut at the leopard-man, and it screamed again, its own agony this time, struck, and I cut at its foreleg, cut it deeply, then jumped back like a fencing master on the mats as the monster’s fangs sliced, didn’t see the lashing paw that knocked my sword from my hand, spinning through the night.