Belly of the Beast

by Warren Thomas

  The priest and mercenaries blanched. Joelle looked up for the first time. Tane pretended to ignore her, praying she didn’t betray him accidentally. She looked at him a moment, then bowed her head again.

  “Don’t say anything, Your Grace,” Tane said, holding up his hand to forestall his protests of innocence. “The less I know, the better. But I’ll have to take this one right now. Maybe they’ll be so happy to receive a prisoner no one will think to question me about where and how I found her.”

  He gave the queasy looking priest a hard look.

  “I don’t think you would want any questions raised, Your Grace. Not considering the...uh...shall we say, emotional state of the higher ups.”

  Tane’s heart was hammering away, praying the priest fell prey to his own fear. It was obvious the man was terrified of upsetting those placed above him. The bits and pieces he had overheard that morning had shown him the precarious conditions that all the free-minded men and women of Dakar’s host lived under.

  “That might be best,” the priest said with a grimace. “It would seem that my messenger failed to reach Sister Arlene and her staff. I’ve been...uh...waiting for her grace to send someone down to take the prisoner away for questioning.”

  “A wise decision, Your Grace,” Tane said. “I might suggest you punish the incompetent messenger. Such dereliction can’t be tolerated.”

  “Oh, I will,” the priest said. Then turning to Joelle, he said, “You have nothing to worry about from her. The amulet suppresses magic. She can’t cast a spell to save her life as long as it remains around her neck.”

  “I understand,” Tane said. “I won’t remove anything off her person, just to be sure. You can’t trust witches.”

  Tane helped Joelle to stand after cutting the binding around her ankles, treating her a bit roughly to maintain his disguise. The others paid them little heed, turning their full attentions to the wounded. He led her away without a word.

  Once they were out of sight, Joelle said, “We have to help Armin.”

  “I know,” Tane said. He cut her wrists free and gave over his cloak. She huddled inside it gratefully a long moment. Tane asked, “Where would Armin go?”

  “He would circle around back to me,” she said. “Damn him! He’s going to get himself killed.” She reached up toward her neck, but her hands never went higher than her shoulders. “Tane, please, remove the amulet. It won’t allow me to touch it.”

  Tane felt his skin gooseflesh. If a witch couldn’t touch it, how was a simple man like him going to do it?

  As if reading his mind, “Don’t worry. It’ll have no effect on you since you can’t cast magic.”

  He quickly untied the cord and dropped the amulet into the mud. Joelle stamped on it, driving it deep down.

  “That felt good,” she said. Then, “Let’s go.”

  “I see you still have all of your rings,” he said.

  “They didn’t really do much of a search,” she said. “I doubt it occurred to anyone any of my jewelry was enchanted.”

  “What about Armin?”

  “We’re going after him,” she said, a distracted look to her eyes. “He’s my husband. I can always find him with my magic. He’s not far, and may be in trouble.”

  They hadn’t gone more than a hundred steps when they saw Armin cornered in a clump of burnt pines. Tane could see that half the mercenaries were either dead or wounded. Armin wasn’t going down easily.

  Before Tane could suggest caution, Joelle began chanting and drawing runes in the air. Tane braced himself for some truly horrific blast of fire and rage. But nothing happened, though Joelle seemed pleased, and winded. Then he realized the men threatening Armin were acting distressed.

  Before he realized what was happening, both Joelle and Armin charged the strangely struggling men. Half were dead or dying before Tane realized what Joelle had done. She had frozen the mud they were fighting in. The mercenaries were trapped in frozen mud around their feet and helpless as the Vikon couple cut them down.

  Armin changed the trapped men with his sword, while Joelle called up her bright bow of energy, and started loosing one magic arrow after another into helpless men.

  Suddenly, the surrounding zombies turned their way and surged toward them. Tane cried out a warning, turning toward the Treversax road as they killed the last man. He let them get in front, believing the zombies might hesitate in attacking someone wearing Dakar’s uniform. Of course, he had no intention of allowing any of them to get close enough to test that theory.

  Though the zombies were silent as ever, a general clamor rose up all about them. The camp was coming alive with zombies and free-minded alike. Every face turned their way. Thankfully they were close to where the Treversax road vanished into the forest, but there were still hundreds of zombies between them and safety.

  Twice more, Joelle cast her frozen mud spell. She took out over a hundred zombies and one mercenary like that, but more appeared, traveling faster over the frozen mud.

  “I only have the strength for one more spell like that,” she quietly warned them as they raced for that slit in the woodline where the road vanished.

  She called up her magic bow again, and quickly put down three more mercenaries. The slower zombies didn’t worry them as much. Then they ran straight into another group of zombies, fighting their way through quickly. The carnage reminded him of his first battle.

  Suddenly, Joelle cast her spell again. The last remaining group blocking their escape came to an abrupt halt.

  “Run!” Joelle cried, not waiting for them before she set off.

  Tane felt exaltation building as they neared the trees. The zombies would follow, but the more dangerous mercenaries would be hampered in their pursuit. Horses were no advantage in thick forest. And he was confident they could outrun the zombies.

  Armin cried out a warning as a mercenary stepped out of the trees. He had a bow and arrow ready, aimed straight at Joelle’s heart.

  “Halt!” the mercenary called.

  They stopped. Tane’s first thought was to take the mercenary’s attention off Joelle.

  “I’ll distract him. Split up,” Tane said under his breath. His throat tightened almost too much to speak the next words. “He can only get one of us, at best.”

  Armin and Joelle nodded slightly, their bodies tensing for the coming sprint for safety. Tane noticed Armin prepare to leap in front of his wife.

  “What do we have here?” a woman’s voice called.

  A priestess came charging through the immobilized zombies astride a horse. Tane cursed his luck, his heart sinking. The priestess would have magicks that Joelle couldn’t match. The only good aspect of her arrival was that the zombies halted and waited for orders.

  “Your Grace, these folks were trying to escape the camp,” the mercenary said. Then more proudly, “I stopped them.”

  “Yes you did. Very good job, soldier,” she said, sidling up close to him and slipping out of the saddle.

  She paused, turned to face Tane, and pushed back her hood.

  Raven winked at Tane, and then turned back to the bowman. Tane saw the glint of steel in her hand as she stepped close. The man suddenly tensed, grunting loudly, then slumped to the ground.

  Raven gave her friends a woeful look, “I think he has a back ache, right up through the kidney.”

  As one, Tane, Joelle, and Armin charged the woods. Raven seized the reins of her destrier and followed. They charged through the underbrush until the sound of horses brought them to a stop.

  Raven took to the saddle again, and rode forward to scout out their foes. She was gone so long that Tane began to fear she was dead or captured, when the sounds of horses came to them again. The horses grew closer and closer.

  “Tane! It’s Quinn,” Raven called. “Come on.”

  When the Vikon couple started to surge forward joyfully, Tane reached out and stopped them.

  “Wait. It might be a trap,” he whispered. “I’ll go first. Cover me.”

&
nbsp; They eased forward, Tane some ten paces ahead. Soon enough, he found Raven sitting her bay mare next to a nervous Quinn on a black gelding. There were another four saddled mounts behind them.

  “I see you, Tane,” Quinn said.

  “Really?” Raven said, studying the forest shadows intently. “Where?”

  “Over here,” Tane said, standing straight and waving Armin and Joelle up. The fact that he got so close to Raven, if not Quinn, without being detected was strangely satisfying. Indicating all the horses, “I see you two have had a profitable day.”

  Quinn shrugged, “I wasn’t certain everyone would find a mount. Better too many mounts than not enough.”

  “Isn’t he wonderful?” Raven said, eyes atwinkle as she regarded him. For his part, Quinn squirmed in the saddle.

  To save his friend, Tane said, “You haven’t done too badly yourself, Raven. You make a great priestess.”

  “Not as good as Joelle,” she said, shedding the gray robes and tossing them to the witch. “With her magic, she’ll be more convincing.”

  “You have robes and a uniform?” Armin asked in amazement.

  Raven laughed merrily.

  “I did do pretty well, didn’t I?” Raven said. She graced them with her brightest mischievous smile. “I haven’t had this much fun since...uh...maybe I better not tell you about that one. I was a real bad girl that time.”

  Chapter 75

  “What’s all the commotion?” Jessy asked Nizar as he entered their tent.

  She was almost finished arming herself. Despite his warning not to leave the tent, she was going to see what was happening. Being shut up inside the tent was starting to fray her nerves.

  “Your cousin just passed through,” Nizar said. “Damn him! He went right through the middle of the damn camp!”

  Breathless, “Really?”

  “Yes. Tane and his friends killed at least twenty-eight men doing so, with twice that many wounded.”

  Suddenly it registered. Nizar was angry. And even more strange, why did Tane have to fight his way through the camp if Dakar wanted him to succeed?

  “I don’t understand why you’re so angry, Father Nizar,” Jessy said. “They are Dakar’s people who died, not Ashtar’s.”

  He tensed, just a heartbeat’s reaction, and then relaxed.

  “In truth, my child, I care nothing for the people who died by your cousin’s hand,” he said. “I am angry that he passed us by while we were stuck here. The commander of the host has orders from Dakar to hound Tane, but to allow him to escape. The mercenaries and zombies know nothing of this, so there is the very real chance Tane could be killed.”

  “But wouldn’t that solve your problem?” Jessy said, sorry there was so much venom in her voice and words. She still had trouble with the idea of killing Tane to save the world. Though the priest said he wanted to capture and save Tane from Dakar’s unholy influence, his attitude indicated he would be happier with him dead. “My cousin is not evil, Father Nizar.”

  “Don’t call me ‘Father’ here, or ever,” Nizar said. “If you’re overheard, we’ll both be sacrificed before the sun sets. And Dakar will eat our immortal souls. Always call me Brother Nizar.”

  Jessy swallowed the lump in her throat at his words. Gods, to have her soul devoured! Her whole world shook when she considered the prospect. How could anyone support and worship such a beast? They were forsaking an afterlife. Dakar wanted only to make the world His “farm.” They would be nothing more than Dakar’s harvest. And He would feast on the souls of His devotees with the same relish as the souls of enemies.

  A loud burst of shouts and curses interrupted her reverie. She had no right to worry about her own soul, while Tane’s soul was in much greater danger. He had always been there for her. Now it was her turn to save him.

  “I’m ready to go,” she said.

  “Good,” Nizar said, turning to lead the way out.

  Jessy gathered up their gear, draping bridles and saddle blankets over her shoulders and arms while casting a scowl at Nizar’s retreating back. The priest was worse than a highborn lady at expecting “lesser” persons to do everything for him. Then under the weight of saddles and tack for two mounts she staggered after Nizar.

  She found Nizar waiting impatiently beside his horse when she arrived. Annoyed, he accepted his mount’s saddle and tack. They quickly had the horses ready and mounted up. The milling zombies silently opened a path for them, so Jessy soon found herself alone with Nizar and surrounded by thick, dark forest.

  “What a relief,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t realize how stressful being in that camp was until now.”

  Nizar glowered at her a moment, then glanced around with distaste.

  “I’d rather face Dakar’s mindless minions than the men and women riding with Tane,” he said. “They are free-minded mercenaries who have turned to evil, and are capable of anything. Prepare yourself, Jessy.”

  She nodded and turned to study the road ahead. The snow and ice had been churned into muddy slush by countless horses. Between them and Tane were an unknown number of Dakar’s mercenaries hounding her cousin southward. If what Nizar said was true, then Tane wasn’t in any immediate danger. Tane himself was the danger, to both Arisen and the world.

  A sudden flood of dreadful memories assaulted her. Memories of her short time as an enchanted slave of Dakar, a time of cold and hunger, fire and death. She couldn’t allow that to happen to the entire world. Tane had to be stopped, no matter what.

  Nizar reined up. Jessy stopped beside him, following his line of sight to the point where most of the tracks veered off the road and into the forest.

  “They escaped again,” Nizar said.

  When he started to follow, Jessy held up her hand.

  “You’ve tried that already, and failed miserably,” she said. “This is the closest we’ve gotten to them, and that was by forsaking their trail and striking out for the camp we knew was ahead of them. You said you know where they are headed, so why not stay on the road and try to get ahead of them again?”

  Nizar considered a moment, then nodded.

  “Sound advice, Jessy,” he said. “They won’t expect us to come at them from the south.”

  ~**~**~

  Tane sat, back against a thick pine and a wineskin resting in his lap. It was still early afternoon, but they had ridden all the previous night and all that day, with barely any rest stops.

  Tane smiled at the thought of “riding” all day and night. Before this, when he heard horsemen discuss riding all day he thought they literally were riding the whole time. In truth, he spent most of his time walking, leading the horse. Horses couldn’t endure nonstop riding. They needed relief, and that involved walking for Tane and his friends.

  Once their camp was set up, and Quinn posted on guard, Raven began teaching Joelle her many massage secrets using Tane and Armin as the subjects. Once he was taken care of, Raven tossed him a wineskin before she and Joelle started on Armin.

  “You should see the look on your face, Armin,” Tane said. It was the Vikon’s first massage. Both pleasure and shock was present in Armin’s expression. “I know how you feel. But wait until they’re finished, for its true benefit becomes obvious then.”

  Joelle slanted a look at Tane, “You sound too relaxed. How much of that wine did you drink?”

  “Not enough,” Tane said, setting it aside. “But until we finish our task, I’ll not drink to excess.”

  Standing, he turned his attention to their horses. All were huddled at the edge of camp, their saddles and tack set off to the side. They had already decided to stay through the night, so the horses had to be fed now that they were cooled down.

  “I’ll tend the horses if Armin will relieve Quinn after his massage,” Tane said.

  “I’ll help you,” Raven said, starting to rise.

  “No, you tend to Quinn,” Tane said. “I need some time alone, and might as well make myself useful while I’m at it.”

  �
��Alone?” Raven said. “Gods, that’s the last thing I ever want.”

  “You are a people person, Raven,” Tane said. “I need time alone to think. Crowds and tight quarters stress me out.”

  Raven glanced around. “What crowds? What tight quarters?”

  Tane chuckled as he retrieved the single horse grooming kit they shared. “I know. It’s all in my head, but I’m feeling trapped, hemmed in. Just give me some time to myself.”

  “Fine,” she said, casting a speculative look Quinn’s way. “I think I need some privacy, too. I won’t need your help with Quinn, Joelle.”

  “No problem, Raven,” Joelle said with a big grin. “I can keep Armin company on guard.”

  “Thanks,” Raven said. Then, “Quinn. Your turn.”

  “Poor Quinn,” Armin said, standing.

  Chapter 76

  Nizar silently thanked Dakar as he stopped his mount. The steady sleet had stopped. The wind was no more than an occasional whisper in the treetops, and he felt the biting cold easing, becoming almost bearable.

  Jessy stopped beside him and pulled off her helmet and leather hood to scratch at her head. Steam swirled up from her damp hair, bringing a scowl to Nizar’s face. The barbarian girl-child was hot! He was freezing in his woolen robes, turban, and veil, while she sweltered in thick leather and armor. After a moment of intent scratching, she suddenly shuttered violently and donned the hood and helmet.

  “Cold,” she said. “Can’t we keep moving? I’m fine as long as we’re moving.”

  “No,” he said, looking up. He wasn’t about to admit it, but he had reached the limit of his endurance. His father might be a sultan, but Nizar wasn’t raised in the saddle like his half-brothers. The thought of walking the horses for a day or two was becoming more and more appealing every minute. “We can’t wear out the horses before we really need them. Besides, I think we might have gotten too far in front of your cousin. We can afford to rest tonight.”

  “Sounds great.”

  A lone owl passed high overhead, his gray plumage almost lost in the dreary pre-dusk cloud-cover. Nizar reached out with his God-given powers to the owl. The bird was weary and half-starved, so offered no resistance when Nizar sought control. It was over in a heartbeat, with Nizar’s will controlling the owl’s every move.