Four Beheadings and a Funeral

by Ugland, Eric

  “Maybe.”

  I nodded, and started walking toward the lake. Lee matched me step for step.

  “How are the rolegurdaüdi doing?” I asked. I peered through the arches, trying to see what was on the other side of the soon-to-be-wall.

  “Good,” Lee said. “As far as I can tell, they ask where you are and when you’re coming back. Probably want to touch base with them.”

  “Are they helping?”

  Lee was quiet a minute as we walked, then finally answered. “Help might not be the word I’d use. I think they’re trying to help. And they certainly handle security better than most anything I could imagine. Plenty of dead goblins laid at their feet. And no one wants to get out of line and face one of them.”

  “But?”

  “Well, they try to help with the building.”

  “And?”

  “They’re like toddlers. Who can rip a man in half. Accidentally.”

  “Have they?’

  “No, but they’ve knocked over plenty of walls.”

  “I bet they enjoy that, right?”

  “The first few times. But then I think they realized we weren’t happy with them. They’re eager to please.”

  “It’s not at all what I expected from them. They seemed, I mean—”

  “Monstrous.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s hard to imagine them being that way. I mean, after my interactions with them at least.”

  “Should we bring them back to Coggeshall with us?”

  “I’ve been trying to decide that one way or the other.”

  “And?”

  “I think it depends a whole lot on who’s out here with them. Gotta be someone who can keep their attention, and stay on their good side.”

  I scratched my head, wishing I had a beard to stroke. It gave me something to do while I was busy thinking. Not like it made me smarter, but at least I had something to do with my hands.

  “I’ll keep it under advisement,” I said.

  Then, just like that, we were close enough to the lake that I could see through to the valley on the other side.

  Horses and a rudimentary camp.

  “Is that an army?” I asked.

  “You’ll probably need to get closer to really see what’s there.”

  “Why don’t you just tell—”

  “Because we called you back to deal with it. So through the water, and—”

  “Deal with it,” I finished. “Fine.”

  “Might want to leave that Northwoods crest behind,” Lee said.

  I tore the tabard off and tossed it over my shoulder. Then I left Lee behind, and walked into the water.

  Freezing water filled my boots almost immediately. This was not how I wanted to spend my morning.

  I waded for a bit, then went under the arch and climbed out of the lake before it tumbled down into the river below. I looked down into the foreign camp and saw men and women on horses. Literally everyone was mounted. It was like the horses were just as important to their society as the people were.

  It took me longer than I’d like to admit before I figured it out. There were no people, and there were no horses.

  It was just hundreds of centaurs.

  My brain hurt, because suddenly it was full of physiological questions I didn’t have answers to. What did they eat? How did they pick things up off the ground? Could they use stairs? Where would they put a shirt? Pants?

  Some of that was answered just by observation. They had a rather relaxed sense of dress code, in that they just didn’t wear much at all. So I suppose they could just put pants on wherever they wanted. I didn’t see them eating anything specifically, but they were cooking things in cauldrons, so they must like soup or porridge of some kind.

  I thought about just standing there and watching for a bit, trying to learn a little more. But I also had more shit to do than I could possibly get done, so I hiked down the rocks, and made my way through the tall grass towards their camp. They were big — horses, and all — but not as large as some of the horses I’d seen back on Earth. Or even in Vuldranni. They looked more like they had been built for speed. And their coloring was really interesting. Most of it tended to match the grass, a tawny sort of amber, but the color on their coats continued all the way up their skin. I couldn’t quite tell if they had short fur on their human bits as well, but I thought it might be the case.

  Considering the camp wasn’t exactly far from the edge of the river coming from the Coggeshall Valley, it didn’t take long for me to get noticed. Sentries raced my way, spears and bows at the ready, their hooves muffled by the soft soil under the long grass.

  A svelte male centaur with a skewbald coat of nearly white spots against a darker amber called out to me. His language sounded gruff and broken for the requisite three words before it become something I innately understood.

  “... before I send you to the Darkness below!” he finished shouting.

  “Whoa, easy there,” I said. I tried not to giggle at how I’d immediately spoken to them like horses.

  And yet, it worked. They slowed down a little.

  “I’ve only come to meet with, uh, whoever is in charge,” I said.

  The skewbald centaur came closer to me, his spear leading, menacing. It had a long bladed head with wicked barbs coming off either side.

  “Who are you to speak to the Tip of the Spear?” he asked.

  “I am the Imperial Duke of Coggeshall,” I said. “This wall behind me marks the current boundary of my holding.”

  The centaur looked over my shoulder, which wasn’t hard considering that he was at least a head taller than me, and surveyed things.

  “You are the ruler of that land now?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I am. Duke Montana Coggeshall.”

  He nodded, not the slightest bit impressed. But he seemed to be mollified by me having a title, and he lifted the pointy end of his spear into the air.

  “Come,” he said. “the Tip of the Spear will wish to speak with you.”

  I took notice of how he chose to frame things — his leader wanted to speak to me, not the other way around. Politics. I hate politics. It’s always fucking politics.

  Moving through the camp, despite the large, armed escort, I felt a little like a tourist. This was unlike anything else I’d experienced in Vuldranni. It was one of the first places I’d been where it was full-on single species. Here there were centaurs, and only centaurs. And therefore all the pathways, arches, everything, was perfectly tailored to a horse-man.

  I tried to get a general count of the group — the herd? — but there were too many to keep track of. The camp just went on and on and on. They had tall round tents that were round, a bit like the tents I’d set up the time I had a circus gig, the ones we worked out of, and the ones the artists practiced in. There weren’t any wagons, nor anything I could pin as a hauling animal, so I had to guess that everything was carried on their bodies. Which, I suppose, made a certain amount of sense. They were large creatures, they could afford to carry a lot of gear without much trouble.

  Finally, we came to the largest tent in the settlement. Like everything else, it was the same amber and light brown as the plains. But there was a carpet leading to the door, and two guards out front. They had what looked a bit like leather armor on their bodies, a mixture of, well, regular armor and barding, you know, for their horse half. They had polearms instead of spears, with heads that had long waving axe heads on them. They stood at attention, eyes scanning everywhere for danger.

  One of them glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. Then, I suppose because of my escort, he decided I was not worth more attention.

  The escort pulled away the curtain entrance, revealing a beautiful interior. The furniture was low and flat with lots of cushions, but nothing really anything like chairs. There were no candles anywhere; instead the light was came from above, and was somehow being transmitted from the outside to the inside, some sort of sun-powered light. Or a translucen
t skin on the top of the tent. Whatever was happening, it was bright enough to see, but still a drastic difference between inside and outside.

  The tent was empty.

  “You wait here,” my escort said, pointing at a spot on a small red carpet.

  “Thanks for the escort,” I replied, taking my position.

  He grunted, and then turned around and left. I noticed that his turn around took some real room. He couldn’t really spin in the same way a human could, and, once again, I started to wonder about the life of centaurs. If they had some place that was more, well, civilized isn’t really a polite way to phrase it, but a place that was more like a city. Could they make cities? So many questions and so few answers. At least, so few satisfying answers.

  Since I was alone, my initial impulse was to wander around and explore, but that seemed rude. I noticed a faint scent of cinnamon and some other spices I couldn’t identify, and eventually saw a brass incense burner over on the side.

  After a few minutes, by which point I was definitely getting ready to step off the red carpet, I heard the unmistakable clop of horse hooves outside.

  I stood up a little straighter.

  Across from me, the two tent flaps were pulled to the side, and a gorgeous, slim centaur, uh, cantered in. Or, whatever horses do when they’re walking and trying to impress people.

  He wasn’t very big, only slightly taller than me. And he didn’t have a whole lot of upper body muscle, but his, uh, haunches were clearly strong. I never spent much time at the tracks — really just went there to collect from certain lowlifes who hadn’t paid back losing bets — but I could spot a fast horse. This guy looked like just that. He wasn’t wearing anything, which was a little odd, but then, I mean, it’s not like horses needed to wear anything. But it was pretty cold out, and I wondered how he stayed warm. His human half was smooth skin, not a single hair below his eyebrows until, you know, his horse half started. Then there was hair. His coloring matched everything else around: amber. Questions...

  He looked me up and down, coming closer and then walking around me.

  “Human,” he said, “We are told you claim to be of some import.”

  “I am an Imperial Duke of the Glaton Empire,” I replied, annoyed that he was using the royal We, but also choosing to ignore it. I also assumed this asshat was the one referred to as The Tip of the Spear.

  “We have heard nothing of this empire you speak of,” he said. I didn’t believe him. He got very close to me, like was about to push me with his horse body.

  “That doesn’t matter,” I said. “I just wanted to come greet you. Being that, you know, we’re neighbors.”

  “Neighbors?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that’s my land right, uh,” I quickly fixed in my head which way was south, where Coggeshall was, and I pointed, “that way.”

  “Behind the arches,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “And you are the owner of that land?”

  I nodded.

  “So if we kill you, does that become our land?”

  “I think it goes back to the Emperor, and then he will decide.”

  “Hrm,” he said, and smiled a thin-lipped sort of smile. Clearly patronizing. “I am not sure I like you.”

  “I mean, first dates are a bit rocky.”

  “A date?”

  “Never mind.”

  “We find that we are surprised to see humans here,” he said, looking at his human nails. “It is far from anything you might think of as home.”

  “We are making a home here.”

  “Humans spread like an unwelcome mold.”

  “Or a welcome mold. We’re thinking about starting a brewery, by the way. I think we could be friends.”

  “You have no designs on our plains?”

  “Nope. Not really the life for me. I like mountains.”

  “There are plenty of mountains,” he said, almost to himself, almost thinking.

  “Exactly. No need to step on each other’s, uh, feet.”

  He wasn’t listening to me anymore. He was thinking, looking at one of his tent walls. I figured he was probably imagining the landscape on the other side.

  “If that is your land,” the centaur finally said, “then it must fall upon your head to complete the Cull.”

  “I’msorrywhat?”

  “You speak strange. Even for a human.”

  “What’s the Cull?”

  “It is the Cull.”

  “Okay, but is there, I mean, can you explain some more about it to me?”

  “If you speak the tongue, how is it you know nothing of our culture?”

  “Bad luck, I guess.”

  He grunted at me, then snapped his fingers. Within a second, a very slim, very good-looking, and very naked female centaur came into the tent. She gave the guy I was talking to a silver cup. The leader centaur took a sip, and then passed the cup back to the woman, who bowed her head, and darted back out of the tent.

  “The Cull is the means by which we maintain the purity of the Herd. The means by which we are able to rule the Endless Grains and the means by which we are able to deal with the Behemoths.”

  “Bit to unpack there. These are Endless Grains? That’s what you call these lands?”

  “Yes,” he said, looking at me like I was an idiot.

  “And there is something out there you call behemoths?”

  “We are not alone in calling them their name.”

  “What are they?”

  “Behemoths.”

  “Yes.”

  “They are Behemoths.”

  “I don’t suppose you can be any more clear than that?”

  “No. How else would I describe a human than calling him a human?”

  Immediately, I thought of a million ways I could describe a human to someone or something that hadn’t seen one before. Like, I don’t know, smooth skin, bipedal, hair on the top of a head, two eyes, one mouth, that sort of a thing. But I was starting to see that this guy didn’t possess much in the way of intellectualism, and that he might not like me trying to point out his shortcomings. Most dumb leaders are like that.

  “Good point,” I said. “But I’m not sure I understand what you mean by the Cull. You want me to cull your herd for you?”

  “No. You will not be asked to make any decisions. You will only be responsible for the full cull.”

  “Killing your herd members.”

  “They will no longer be worthy of being part of the herd.”

  “So I’d be killing centaurs?”

  “Would we even consider them real centaurs at that point?”

  “I mean, you’d have to tell me.”

  “The answer is no,” he said with an incredibly patronizing smile plastered across his pretty face. He brushed a ringlet out of his eyes, and stared at me.

  “I don’t want to be anyone’s executioner,” I said. “I’m not really into killing things.”

  Which was kind of the truth in a way. It’s not like I went out with the sole purpose of inflicting death. Often.

  “We are not concerned with your feelings on the matter,” he said. “It is simply a matter of what must be.”

  “Nope.”

  “You cannot deny our right.”

  “Actually, that’s exactly what I’m doing. We are neighbors, regardless. We can decide what kind of neighbors we want to be. The kind that loans each other sugar on occasion, maybe hosts some barbecues, or the kind who calls CPS on each other.”

  “Your words have little meaning to us, and we are growing tired of our conversation.”

  “Hey buddy, takes two to tango here.”

  “You will do the Cull. You have no choice. We are done.”

  * * *

  You have been offered a quest (by person if applicable):

  To Cull, or Not To Cull

  Complete the Cull as requested by the Centaur Herd. Or don’t.

  Reward: unknown

  This quest is mandatory.

  * * *

>   He turned and walked out, ignoring my attempts to get him to stay and continue our admittedly shitty conversation.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I exited the tent, and immediately my escort trotted over to me to take me back out of the camp. They delivered me right back at the arches. They seemed rather skittish looking across the lake. I noticed their gazes stop at the rolegurdaüdi cave, like they knew what was living there.

  As soon as I was in the lake, they all galloped away. More than one looked over their shoulders at me, and at the cave beyond.

  I waded back across the lake where Lee was sitting and eating a second, or maybe third, donut.

  “Kind of a bunch of assholes,” I said.

  “I’ve never had much love for horses,” he replied. “Though how many did you really meet?”

  “One. The leader.”

  “Can’t really say they’re all assholes just because the leader is.”

  “I mean, you’re right, but maybe let me generalize them for now?”

  “Nah, you’re better than that.”

  “Okay, well, fine. The leader is singularly an asshole.”

  “Are we at war with them already?”

  “No,” I snapped. “Really? You think we’d be fighting after one conversation?”

  “I’m just saying, it’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

  I shrugged. he had a point. “He expects us to handle his herd culling for him.”

  “What does that entail?”

  “I don’t exactly know. Killing it seems. He made some comment about keeping the purity of the herd. So I guess he expects us to euthanize all the weak and sick or something like that.”

  Lee shook his head, took another bite of his donut, and sipped his coffee. “You think they used send their unwanted ones here, and they’d get eaten by our new friends?”

  I looked across at the cave, and then back at the centaur herd.

  “I mean, that makes sense. I just, makes me feel weird.”

  He nodded.

  “Okay,” I said, “I need to get back out to Osterstadt.”

  “Already?”

  “I have to deal with a whole bunch of unpleasantness there. This was all you needed me for, right?”