Both saluted. “Sir!”
“Remove these carcasses. Drag them into the street.”
They scrambled to obey. It took a few minutes, for the apes were fully as large as a man, if not larger, and dead weight. Even in the midst of their labor both Keltos and Makos noticed, along with the others watching, that some of the apes bore wounds only on their backs—they had died without turning around.
Finally the last bull, a splendid male in its prime, had been dragged away to reveal a hole. It was fully two cubits across and more than a cubit in depth, and the final corpse’s head and hands rested on the bottom as if the ape had dived in headfirst. Pelekarr studied the fingers of the other dead apes, noting the broken fingernails and crusting of sand.
“Mishtan above,” he said, almost in awe. “They were digging.”
“Digging? Why?” Keresh’s question was the one they were all asking.
“Why, indeed.” The captain’s eyes narrowed. “In the middle of an attack, while their fellows were fighting and dying under our spears, why would the largest and strongest come back here, away from the battle… to dig a hole?”
Perian stepped forward and squatted next to the hole. She wrinkled her nose. “Do you smell that?”
“Smell what?”
She leaned closer, sniffing. Then, suddenly, the barbarian woman began scrambling backwards so fast she almost collapsed into a reverse somersault. “Get back! Get back!”
The terror in her voice was infectious, and the men obeyed in a panic without knowing why. Swords were ripped again from scabbards.
“What is it? Perian, what’s wrong?”
The barbarian woman was snarling wordlessly, dagger gripped in one fist, pointing at the hole with the other. “Mekkilak!”
“Mekkilak? What’s that?”
“I don’t know your word for it! One that crawls! With pincers, and many legs!” She splayed her fingers out to either side and wiggled them.
Pelekarr’s mouth crooked into a tentative grin. “A centipede, Perian? A mere insect? Mishtan, you must have a great fear of them!”
Perian turned to him a face so torn by fear and loathing that the captain’s laugh died away. “You fool! You utter fool! You know nothing of this land! The mekkilak are not little. They are immense.”
“Large enough to pass as a serpent, my lady? I have heard of such things, in the jungles of the Ash Coast. Startling, no doubt, to a woman.” Pelekarr kept his expression grave, but some of the gathered sergeants laughed aloud in relief. “Even if they have poison, one of my men can dispatch it quickly enough. Trooper Kuron, bring me this insect in pieces!”
Keltos moved forward, sword ready, but Perian stopped him with a raised hand. “I have seen one cut an elk in half and eat both pieces in seconds.”
Keltos stopped in his tracks.
The sergeants stopped grinning. Pelekarr opened his mouth in surprise.
“They are true monsters. Few beasts can stand against them. Do not mock that of which you know so little! They have slaughtered entire villages!”
The captain pointed. “Are you saying there’s one in that hole?”
“No. Not in the hole. This is an egg den.”
“They lay their eggs in the ground?”
“Yes. The apes were trying to dig their way to the chamber. It makes sense now.”
“Why would the apes… are you saying the entire attack was merely an attempt to reach a buried egg supply?”
Perian nodded. “They hate and fear the mekkilak as much as we do. All Ostoran creatures destroy the eggs wherever they find them. If not, when the babies hatch and grow…”
“How do you know there’s an egg den down there? And why would the settlers build atop it?”
“They must not have known it was there, ignored the signs. All Ostoran creatures know the scent. The apes smelled it from afar and became desperate.”
“They would risk annihilation in order to kill the eggs?”
“Probably they did not know how many of us were within the fort. But yes, the apes would try to get at these eggs at any cost. To allow them to hatch is to give up their territory completely. This entire area would become a killing ground, uninhabitable by anything larger than a bird.”
Sergeant Copper stepped forward. “Captain, earlier today I set some of the boys to digging an extra latrine, over yonder. They hadn’t been at it long when one of the spades broke through into a stench from hell. Gagged me, it did. Came up from a hole beneath.”
Perian stamped her foot. “Why did you not speak of it immediately?”
“Sorry, milady, but we didn’t know. I thought we’d found an old cesspit of the settlers, had the boys fill it in and dig elsewhere.”
“The wind was blowing steadily all afternoon, and the river gates were open,” Perian mused aloud. “That would have been enough, easily, for the apes. The stink travels for leagues, and their noses are far better than ours. They scented the mekkilak den and came to destroy it.”
She sheathed her dagger. “I fear that these eggs are close to hatching. It would explain why the apes were so desperate, so single-minded. The rest of the pack grappled with our unexpected presence while the largest bull apes found the den and tried to dig through to it. They wouldn’t have stopped even as the swords fell upon them. The eggs represent a danger far more frightening than a bronze blade, for the mekkilak would hunt them down through the trees until the last youngling was eaten.”
Keltos thought of the Silverpath prisoner. Had he smelled the buried den and understood what was about to happen?
Pelekarr, listening intently, now broke in with a question. “Will more apes come? What shall we do with the eggs?”
“We must finish what the apes started. Unearth the den, and kill the eggs.”
“What, now?” Pelekarr asked, incredulous.
“Now, tonight! Before she who laid them returns.”
“She?”
“You fool!” Perian was almost crying with frustration. “After laying the eggs, the mother returns periodically to check them, mark them with more scent, protect them from harm. Her final visit falls within a day or so of the hatching. If these eggs are almost ready then her last visit is imminent. And believe this—we do not want to be here when she arrives. One mekkilak is enough, especially when enraged. It will climb the walls easily.”
Pelekarr scratched his chin. “And the settlers built their fort over the den without ever suspecting. By Mishtan’s golden beard, of all the luck! They could not have known. Or perhaps they learned of it, and fled…”
“It does not matter. We must kill the eggs immediately,” the barbarian woman continued, “and then leave this place far behind us. If the mother catches us here, she’ll cut us down like your Ostoran farmers harvest wheat.”
The captain gave a short, rueful laugh, shaking his head. “So be it. Ostora has teeth, eh?”
Perian shouldered past him to find something to dig with. “No one asked you to come here,” she muttered.
CHAPTER 18: INTO THE PIT
The night grew grimmer still, and messier. And it stank.
It was the work of a few minutes to assemble a crew with spades, and these set to with a will under the watchful eye of Perian and the captain. Despite her insistence that no adult centipede would be found, Pelekarr posted Copper’s infantrymen with spears at the ready.
Under the flickering light of torches, the sand flew as the diggers widened and deepened the hole begun by the apes. Before long a powerful, eye-watering stench was wafting up from the pit. One by one the digging crew stopped to tie rags across their noses. One man emptied his stomach before he was able to return to his shovel. Keltos and Makos, holding torches over the pit, were hard pressed to keep from gagging.
One of the bronze spades hit a boulder, and the next few minutes were a curse-laden effort as the huge stone was loosened and then dragged bodily up and out. As it left its position, the rancid stink worsened dramatically. Several of the digging crew began vomit
ing. It was as if a gaseous cloud had been released from prison, and Keltos would have sworn that the torches burned more brightly as the foul miasma rose to fuel them.
A dark hole lay revealed to the torch-light, an inky well of vileness. Breathing rapidly through clenched teeth, Makos held his torch low over the gaping cavern. Nothing could be seen inside, just a sandy burrow leading downward at a steep angle into the darkness.
The digging team sat back, wiping their mouths and retching in turn, as a new squad stepped forward. These held torches and drawn swords. Pelekarr joined the group, with Perian creeping at his side. He eyed Keltos and Makos.
“My flag-bearers. Will you bare your swords and venture in with us?”
Makos nodded and approached the pit. Keltos followed, nostrils stinging at the searing reek.
For a moment they all stood at the edge as if drawing courage. Then Pelekarr and Makos leapt into the hole and slid down the sandy embankment. Keltos came next, and Perian behind. Then four more men followed.
The burrow slanted steeply at first, but quickly leveled out, and the captain was able to stand erect in a large, open area directly under the building above. In the light of the torch which Keltos still held, they could all see that the cavern was formed naturally. It seemed that the centipede had utilized a pre-existing subterranean cave, merely enlarging it here and there as needed. Indeed, sizable boulders formed three of the four walls of the cave, and some portion of them obviously rose aboveground, for Keltos recognized the stone as forming part of the walls of the magistrate’s headquarters.
Behind him he heard Perian arrive inside. The barbarian woman dusted herself off and stood gazing about her. She pointed at the large upright boulders that extended through the ceiling of the cavern.
“That is why they built here. The magistrate saved labor by founding the walls of his quarters on them. He thought he was wise, building a sure foundation for his stone house. He had no idea.”
“Gods, what a stench!” one of the men swore.
“You’d think they would have smelled something when they began to build.”
“Probably thought it was river mud or swamp gas.”
“Smelling that day in and day out,” a man muttered. “No wonder they cleared out.”
The captain and his flag-bearers moved deeper into the cave to make room for the rest of the men. As the light revealed more of the walls, Pelekarr suddenly grunted with surprise and horror. There was something awful in there with them, revealed by the torch-light. The others were too shocked to make a sound.
Hanging from the walls were seven humans, four older men and three young women. One of them was barely out of her childhood. All were encased in slime, which hung from them in glistening stringers and gobbets. Their mouths were open in silent screams, but Pelekarr could not tell if they were alive or dead. He stumbled backwards, bumping into Perian, who gasped and then gave a little shriek, cut short. Behind them the men cried out in loathing.
“Mishtan have mercy!”
“Rukhal’s guts! What horror is this?”
They stood in sick dread for a moment. Perian moaned softly, face pale. “They usually use beasts, animals they hunt.”
Pelekarr snarled. “By the gods above! This foul spawn is the work of demons!” He paused, and Keltos saw what he saw. Round eggs, slightly translucent in the torchlight and each as large as a melon, were scattered about the cave, stuck to rocks and walls in haphazard fashion. They were clustered most densely around the hanging people, and on the ground at their feet. “Mishtan’s blessed mercy. These poor souls are to serve as…”
The captain hung his head, then straightened, chest heaving. “No. Not this end. We will get them out of here. Cut them down, all of you! Cut them down!”
The men stepped forward over the uneven ground to pull the humans from the walls. Perian ignored them and laid her hand on Pelekarr’s arm. “They never wake up. These people will live, perhaps a while, but… they will never wake. The mekkilak’s venom keeps them alive, barely. Just long enough for the eggs to hatch and the larvae to feed.”
“Not these larvae!” Pelekarr was livid. “Not this time! By all the gods in heaven, these people will be spared such a fate.”
“Cut them down as you wish,” the woman said. Her voice shook. “But it will be a mercy to kill them. They are already living a death. Their minds are gone, their bodies destroyed.”
Slowly the men cut through the slime and ropey webbing with their swords, and with sickening thumps the imprisoned bodies slithered out and fell limply to the ground. They did not move from where they landed, and a quick examination showed no visible sign of breath.
In the torchlight the captain’s face writhed with emotion. His jaw muscles worked soundlessly. Finally he spoke.
“End them swiftly,” said he, hoarsely. “The other men do not have to see it. Then we will take their bodies up to be buried under the sky, away from this stench.”
Keltos swallowed hard. At his feet lay a young woman, pale hair streaked with slime. The face was gaunt and hollow, skin stretched across cheek bones. Her eyes, covered with a glistening film, stared sightlessly at his boots. Her simple dress had slipped off one shoulder, a bloodless white in the flickering gloom. Keltos met Makos’ gaze.
No one had moved. The captain repeated his order. “Kill them!”
Still no one moved. The captain opened his mouth, face turning red with passion, when the barbarian woman placed her hand on his chest. Startled, he held his tongue. Perian addressed them all.
“It is hard. I know. The mekkilak have preyed on my people since the dawn of time. It is always thus when one falls to the poison in their pincers. The earth gods have decreed it, but it is still hard.
“I share your shame, your disgust, your fear. I share your anger. We tried to heal a child we found paralyzed like this, once. It was the nephew of a chieftain, and we kept the boy alive for several days. But it is useless and cruel. They are as dead as though your swords had already fallen upon them. They have been poisoned and there is no cure. Please believe me. It is a mercy to slay them and free them from the fate that awaits them.”
“What fate?” Makos whispered. “What fate is worse than what they have suffered?”
“When the accursed eggs hatch, the larvae will eat these seven people,” Pelekarr growled. “Swarm them and eat them alive, bit by bit.”
Perian nodded. “It would likely last for days. I do not know if they can feel anything or understand what is happening to them. But it is a fate no man should suffer.” She looked straight at Keltos. “If you cannot strike, there is no shame. I know you hesitate to strike against the innocent. You may all leave and I will kill them myself.”
Keltos wanted to vomit. Across from him, Makos gritted his teeth, breath hissing between them.
“Mishtan keep her soul,” Keltos murmured. He knew what he’d expect from someone that found him in such a condition, and he could not fail the poor girl at his feet. He turned his blade downward and touched its point lightly between the girl’s breasts, where her heart lay feebly circulating just enough life through her to prolong the inevitable.
His eyes blurred suddenly. This one was the same age as his sister, Nealtha. He sank to a crouch, wiped the slime away from the girl’s sightless eyes, and whispered a prayer.
Makos looked away as Keltos slammed the blade home.
After that they worked in silence, save only for their sick, gasping breaths.
Three men stumbled back out of the cavern, unwilling to witness or participate in the grim task. Pelekarr drew his own sword and joined his remaining men and Perian in silently finishing what needed to be done. The only consolation, which eased their horror some, was the certain knowledge that they’d want it done for themselves, were they ever forsaken by the gods in such a manner.
All seven victims were slain as quickly, surely, and painlessly as possible. Then they were dragged to the tunnel entrance for removal.
The workers fanned out,
seeking the eggs, and vented their seething horror in the utter destruction of the nest. The eggs were deposited in seemingly random places across the cave, although most had been clustered near the poisoned victims. They were a sickly greenish yellow in color, most about the size of a human head, and when the torches were held close, a dark worm-like shape could be seen floating within each of them, tiny legs visible along each body. They were held in place on the walls by the same slime that had enwrapped the hapless human victims, or resting on the sandy floor itself.
They soon discovered that the stench came from the eggs themselves, and when the first one was ripped apart by vengeful bronze and the creature inside hacked to tiny broken pieces, the reek that filled the cavern grew overpowering. The next few minutes were a gut-wrenching ordeal of stumbling, coughing men, gagging and retching even as they chopped and stabbed the vile eggs into oblivion, tears streaming from stinging eyes as the air within the cave grew thick and unbreathable.
“That’s it! All dead! Get out of the cave, everyone,” the captain finally bellowed, and they scrambled for the exit.
Keltos sank to the cavern floor near the exit as he waited for his turn to scramble out. It was a difficult climb upwards. Ahead of him, Makos had to kick footholds in the damp sand and he seemed to slide back two steps for every one forward.
Keltos waited miserably, mute, eyes smarting, sick in his soul with what he had done. But he gestured for Perian to go ahead of him, seeing that she too suffered. The White River woman dropped a hand to his shoulder and touched it in passing. It was a soft, quick touch, but it was enough. It was human; she understood.
Keltos swore to himself that no matter what he thought of her people, he would count Perian among his friends. The lone exile of the White River clan had done a little thing which counted for much, and Keltos would not forget it.
They passed the bodies of the dead out to the men waiting above, and finally clambered out themselves, assisted by spear-butts held down to them. Keltos lay gasping in the clean air. The soldiers who had remained aboveground drew back in revulsion at the reeking slime that spattered the clothing of those who had gone below.
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