The Spook 9 - Slither's tale

by Delaney Joseph

  ‘I declare war on the Kobalos. I go to forge the Star Blade, but once my business with this is done,’ she cried, holding up the sack, ‘I will return with my sisters and we will pull down the walls of Valkarky and kill all the Kobalos within! So remain at your haizda, mage! Keep away from that cursed city and you might live a little while longer! But now, lest we fight to the death prematurely, I would ask you a question. Why did you return to Karpotha and witness what I had done?’

  ‘I returned to the cliff and sheltered from the storm,’ I answered.

  ‘That necessitated your delay but you did not need to return to the kulad. I know why you went back. You intended to buy Nessa’s freedom. Is that not so?’

  I was shocked by Grimalkin’s words. How could she know this?

  I nodded.

  She smiled. ‘So in that case, what has been lost? Nessa has the freedom you intended for her and it has been achieved at no financial or legal cost to yourself. Now I will return some of these women to their own lands. Others, even if born in the skleech pens, will be found homes amongst humans. As for Nessa, I will reunite her with her sister. In the meantime you will go home and prosper. You are looking forward to returning to your haizda – is that not true?’

  I nodded again; then, finally finding my voice, I lifted my sabre and pointed it towards her. ‘One day there will be a reckoning between us – I promise you that!’

  ‘And I return that promise, so go in peace, Slither. One day we will surely meet again, but there is no need for us to spill more blood this day. I will go and attend to my own business. In the meantime, ready yourself for my return. Gather your resources, hone your fighting skills and strengthen your magic. Then we will meet and fight to the death, thus proving once and for all which of us is the stronger. I will take great pleasure in defeating such a formidable warrior. Is it a trade?’

  ‘Yes! It is a trade!’ I cried, lifting my sabre in salute.

  Her words were wise. My magic was gone and must be replenished with blood. Better to face her when I was once again at the height of my powers. I looked forward to it.

  She smiled, showing her pointed teeth, then rode her horse back to the head of the column.

  Nessa remained where she was. ‘Is that true? Did you really intend to buy me back and give me my freedom?’ she asked.

  ‘It is true, little Nessa. Grimalkin does not lie, although I think she finds too much freedom within the terms of a trade. I am more concerned with the precise letter of the contract.’

  Nessa smiled. ‘But I think she kept closely to the spirit of the agreement. Is that not true?’

  It took me almost a week to reach my haizda again. The journey was delayed somewhat because, on the evening of the third day, I suddenly grew exceedingly thirsty. So great and immediate was my need that I was forced to plunge my teeth into the neck of my horse and drain its blood.

  Usually I am able to resist such impulses, but the long days and nights of restraint – when I had stopped myself from leaping on one of Nessa’s plump sisters and drinking until she died – suddenly took their toll. After such prolonged discipline there must be release. It is only natural for a Kobalos.

  Winter is approaching once more, and I am preparing for my customary hibernation. I have spent the short summer in my haizda, drinking blood, reaping souls, sharpening my skills as a warrior and strengthening my magic. Now the final stage of my preparations will take place as I sleep.

  I will be ready for the return of the witch. Whatever the outcome, I look forward to combat with Grimalkin. It will mark the pinnacle of my endeavours as a warrior mage. She has threatened the city of Valkarky. Although there is little love between me and certain of its inhabitants, I have an allegiance to my own people.

  Perhaps I will be the means to end that threat.

  Slither

  Each day the sun crosses the sky a little closer to the horizon; soon the short summer will draw to a close.

  Now my uncle knows the full story of how Susan died and how I was carried off to be a slave. It made him angry but also fearful. He says that the world is cooling and it makes him apprehensive. He remembers the tales of his grandparents; ancient fearful stories passed down through the generations.

  When Golgoth, the Lord of Winter, last awoke, the ice expanded and the Kobalos beasts travelled south with it, slaying the men and boys but sparing the women and their daughters and carrying them off to be slaves. My uncle believes that it will happen again; but he prays that it will not be in his lifetime.

  My aunt and uncle are good-hearted and have given shelter to Bryony and me; this is my home now. We work hard, but I also worked hard on Father’s farm. Little has changed in that respect.

  The time since my poor father’s death has been terrifying and traumatic, but it has opened my eyes to just how big the world is and shown me that there are so many unknowns, so many new things to learn.

  In a way that has made me restless and discontented with the routines of life. I would like to travel and see more of the world.

  Maybe I have not seen the last of Grimalkin or of Slither. It is just a hunch, but I believe that one day our paths will cross again. I hope so . . .

  Nessa

  Slither’s Dream

  Little Nessa beckons me

  By tapping on her silken knee.

  She’s trapped behind a prison grille

  So I think to bend it to my will.

  That iron grille is tall and wide

  And spans the room from side to side

  From floor to ceiling and wall to wall,

  And though at present I am not tall,

  My haizda magic’s very strong;

  It coils and twists and flicks the grille

  Until the metal quivers, twists and yields

  Like poppies dancing in the fields –

  For that grille’s alive, no doubt of that;

  It’s lithe and stretchy like a cat.

  Now it opens very wide

  And I beckon Nessa to my side.

  As we climb the twisty tunnel stairs,

  Nessa holds my hand and purrs,

  But a shadow begins to grow and coil

  Like a serpent slick with poisonous oil,

  Like the withering breath of a daemon lord

  Or a thing un-blest that raps on boards.

  But my silver blade is very sharp,

  It weaves strange patterns in the dark.

  Its curvy point is sharp and long

  More thirsty than my slithery tongue.

  A fainter heart might here have prayed,

  But I stand my ground

  And draws my blade!

  One shatek screaming in the night

  Has startled armies into flight,

  For a shatek’s brood share a single soul

  Taking many forms with a single goal,

  And its whole’s a creature called a djinn

  An entity that’s spawned to spin

  A web of darkness round the sun

  And puncture with a probing pin

  All pleasures that be clothed with skin;

  It’s nursed its envy in the dark

  And clothed its hope with a leprous bark

  Like the dark Jibberdee of Old Combesarke!

  And little Nessa it did see

  And carried her off against her will

  To imprison her behind that grille.

  By that it aimed to summon me

  To a final battle ’neath its tree.

  For above this pit a great tree stands

  That casts a shadow across the land;

  It grows above the shatek’s lair

  At the very top of the thousandth stair

  And bears fruit of such slimy green

  That would taint the womb of a virgin queen.

  Its leaves they twist and turn and glower

  And fall each spring in a malevolent shower

  To poison soul and wither breast

  And churn the soil so the dead can’t re
st.

  But my silver blade is very sharp,

  It weaves strange patterns in the dark.

  Its curvy point is sharp and long,

  As thirsty as my slithery tongue.

  So I wield my blade

  And my blade’s my song!

  Six feet begin to tap on stone

  With a click and a snap of flexing bone,

  As with agile flesh and cunning leers

  They seek to multiply my fears.

  But I whirl my blade with a swish and hiss

  Because I’ve been there and I’ve done this;

  I’ve seen the sand that hides the stains,

  I’ve seen the corpses bound with chains,

  I’ve seen the daemon lord called ‘Hob’,

  And I’ve heard the falling virgins sob.

  For I know the pit where his mother lies,

  Smelled the blood, heard the drone of flies,

  Seen the vultures haunt the skies.

  And I know this dance,

  I know its pattern well,

  Even better than the path to Hell!

  So I lift my blade and licks my lips

  Until six eyes pop like orange pips

  And I shuffles left and I shuffles right

  And weaves strange patterns in the night.

  First blood to me as I takes a head

  With a blow so swift it out-speeds dread,

  Then quick as thought I strikes again,

  And two heads roll now as a pair,

  And squelch and bounce from stair to stair

  Deep down in the bowels of the shatek’s lair.

  O boastful lord of this ancient tree,

  What a fool you be to mess with me!

  For I’ve tortured sharks in the deepest seas

  And made them vomit boggarts’ knees;

  I’ve savaged eagles in their nests

  And bit the bones from ogres’ chests;

  I’ve hunted vampires in the east

  And laughed in the face of Satan’s priest.

  O boastful lord of this ancient tree,

  This is what Nessa swore to me:

  That our love was like a petal tree,

  And ere the sun falls in the sea

  I’ve promised Nessa she’ll be free!

  But he tries once more to cut me down

  With a twist, a leer and an evil frown.

  But I shuffle left and I shuffle right,

  And strike a blow with all my might.

  And through helmet, hauberk, shield and breast,

  My blade it cuts from east to west.

  Faster than falcon stoops to prey

  My blade it cuts that fiend away.

  O boastful lord of this ancient tree,

  What a fool you were to mess with me,

  For even in death I’m bound to win

  Despite my darkest secret sin,

  For I’ll go to a world called Kinderquest,

  A sphere where even the damned are blest.

  Where they can rest for a thousand years

  In a deep warm sleep beyond all fears,

  Until when bored with ‘safe and dark’

  They spread new wings and soar with the lark

  High into a heaven of the deepest blue

  Where all their secret dreams come true.

  The battle’s over, the victory’s won

  But the final deed is not yet done.

  For little Nessa I do see

  Still tapping on her silken knee!

  So I carve her flesh in succulent slices

  And add a pinch of pungent spices.

  Then boil her up to make a broth

  And soothe away my latent wrath.

  For although I loved our downy bed

  I’m happier still when I’ve been fed!

  An Extract from the Notebooks of Nicholas Browne, a Spook from Ancient Times

  GLOSSARY OF THE KOBALOS WORLD

  Anchiette: A burrowing mammal found in northern forests on the edge of the snow-line. The Kobalos consider them a delicacy eaten raw. There is little meat on the creature, but the leg bones are chewed with relish.

  Askana: This is the dwelling place of the Kobalos gods. Probably just another term for the dark.

  Baelic: The ordinary low tongue of the Kobalos people, used only in informal situations between family or to show friendship. The true language of the Kobalos is Losta, which is also spoken by humans who border their territory. For a stranger to speak to another Kobalos in Baelic implies warmth, but it is sometimes used before a ‘trade’ is made.

  Balkai: The first and most powerful of the three Kobalos High Mages who formed the Triumvirate after the slaying of the king and now rule Valkarky.

  Berserkers: These are Kobalos warriors sworn to die in battle.

  Boska: This is the breath of a Kobalos mage which can be used to induce sudden unconsciousness, paralysis or terror within a human victim. The mage varies the effects of boska by altering the chemical composition of his breath. It is also sometimes used to change the mood of animals.

  Bindos: Bindos is the Kobalos law that demands each citizen sell at least one purra in the slave markets every forty years. Failure to do so makes the perpetrator of the crime an outcast, shunned by his fellows.

  Bychon: This is the Kobalos name for the spirit known in the County as a boggart.

  Chaal: A substance used by a haizda mage to control the responses of his human victim.

  Cougis: Dog-headed god whose red star can be seen in the sky.

  Cumular Mountains: A high mountain range that marks the northwestern boundary of the Southern Peninsula.

  Dendar Mountains: The high mountain range about seventy leagues southwest of Valkarky. In its foothills is the large kulad known as Karpotha. More slaves are bought and sold here than in all the other fortresses put together.

  Dexturai: Kobalos changelings which are born of human females. Such creatures, although totally human in appearance, are easily susceptible to the will of any Kobalos. They are extremely strong and hardy and have the ability to become great warriors.

  Eblis: This is the foremost of the Shaiksa, the Kobalos Brotherhood of assassins. He slew the last King of Valkarky using a magical lance called the Kangadon. It is believed that he is over two thousand years old and it is certain that he has never been bested in combat. The Brotherhood refer to him by two other designations: He Who Cannot Be Defeated and He Who Can Never Die.

  Erestaba: The Plain of Erestaba lies just north of the Shanna River within the territory of the Kobalos.

  Fittzanda Fissure: This is also known as the Great Fissure. It is an area of earthquakes and instability that marks the southern boundary of the Kobalos territories.

  Galena Sea: The sea southeast of Combesarke. It lies between that kingdom and Pennade.

  Gannar Glacier: The great ice-flow whose source is the Cumular Mountains.

  Ghanbalsam: A resinous material bled from a ghanbala tree by a haizda mage and used as a base for ointments such as chaal.

  Ghanbala: The deciduous gum tree most favoured as a dwelling by a Kobalos haizda mage.

  Haggenbrood: A warrior entity bred from the flesh of a human female. Its function is one of ritual combat. It has three selves which share a common mind; they are, to all intents and purposes, one creature.

  Haizda: This is the territory of a haizda mage; here he hunts and farms the human beings he owns. He takes blood from them, and occasionally their souls.

  Haizda mage: A rare type of Kobalos mage who dwells in his own territory far from Valkarky and gathers wisdom from territory he has marked as his own.

  Homunculus: A small creature bred from the purrai in the skleech pens. They often have several selves which, like the Haggenbrood, are controlled by a single mind. However, rather than being identical, each self has a specialized function and only one of them is capable of speaking Losta.

  Hubris: The sin of pride against the gods. The full wrath of the gods is likely to be directed against o
ne who persists in this sin in the face of repeated warnings. The very act of becoming a mage is in itself an act of hubris, and few live to progress beyond the period of noviciate.

  Hybuski: Hybuski (commonly known as hyb) are a special type of warrior created and employed in battle by the Kobalos. They are a hybrid of Kobalos and horse, but possess other attributes designed for combat. Their upper body is hairy and muscular, combining exceptional strength with speed. They are capable of ripping an opponent to pieces. Their hands are also specially adapted for fighting.

  Kangadon: This is the Lance That Cannot Be Broken, also known as the King Slayer, a lance of power crafted by the Kobalos High Mages – although some believe that it was forged by their blacksmith god, Olkie.

  Karpotha: The kulad in the foothills of the Dendar Mountains which holds the largest purrai slave markets. Most are held early in the spring.

  Kashilowa: The gatekeeper of Valkarky, which is responsible for either allowing or refusing admittance to the city. It is a huge creature with one thousand legs and was created by mage magic to carry out its function.

  Kastarand: This is the word for the Kobalos’ Holy War. They will wage it to rid the land of the humans, whom they believe to be the descendants of escaped slaves. It cannot begin until Talkus, the god of the Kobalos, is born.

  Kirrhos: This is the ‘tawny death’ that comes to victims of the Haggenbrood.

  Kulad: A defensive tower built by the Kobalos that marks strategic positions on the border of their territories. Others deeper within their territory are used as slave markets.

  League: The distance a galloping horse can cover in five minutes.

  Lenklewth: The second of the three Kobalos High Mages who form the Triumvirate.

  Losta: This is the language spoken by all who inhabit the Southern Peninsula. This includes the Kobalos, who claim that the language was stolen and degraded by mankind. The Kobalos version of Losta contains a lexis almost one third larger than that used by humans, and perhaps gives some credence to their claims. It is certainly a linguistic anomaly that two distinct species should share a common language.

  Mages: There are many types of human mage; the same is also true of the Kobalos. But for an outsider they are difficult to describe and categorize. However, the highest rank is nominally that of a High Mage. There is also one type, the haizda mage, that does not fit within that hierarchy, for these are outsiders who dwell in their own individual territories far from Valkarky. Their powers are hard to quantify.