The God Eaters

by Jesse Hajicek

  "Bachelor is a very kind word for what you are."

  "Your moral high ground is pretty shaky, priest. I'd say your 'duty to the church' has probably killed more people than we ever did. Were there children in that village?"

  Miyan blurted something in her own language and stormed out the door.

  "I was wrong about you," the priest told Ash. "You're a demon." Then he followed Miyan.

  "I'm sorry," Ash said, too late. He felt awful. He didn't have a lot of sympathy for the priest, but he hadn't wanted to hurt the girl. He went and looked out the window, and saw the two of them talking among the remains of the village. He turned his attention to the book the priest had left on the table. It didn't have a title printed on the cover; when he opened it, he saw why. It was a journal, and written in some kind of code. Interesting. He flipped to the front, then the back, and laughed when he saw that the last page had been ripped out. So the fellow had developed his cipher in the back of the book, and got rid of it once he memorized it. That implied a fairly simple code, maybe even a straight substitution cipher, if he could keep it in his head. What was he writing about, that he had to keep it in code?

  Another glance out the window assured him that the conversation was nowhere near over. Ash snatched up the book and took it to the room where Kieran lay.

  Kieran was asleep. He jerked and gasped when Ash woke him, staring in momentary alarm.

  "I'm sorry," Ash said.

  "What? What is it?"

  "Calm down. Nothing really urgent, I just want to hide this."

  Kieran frowned at the book. "Why?"

  "Might be able to trade it for our stuff, I don't know." He lifted the blanket and slid the book under Kieran's knees. "I'll think of a better place later."

  "You better. That feels weird."

  "I will. Go back to sleep now. Food's going to be about half an hour."

  "Sleep. Hell. Fuck sleep. I was having nightmares. Don't leave me here, I'm bored, I think I'm gonna puke and what if I choke on it --"

  "Okay," he agreed immediately, feeling as if he were sliced open by the fear in Kieran's eyes. It didn't look right there.

  But as Ash started to sit down, Kieran scowled and waved him off. "No, don't listen to me. I don't know what my fucking problem is."

  "If you're sure... I'll just be in the next room."

  "Go. Get out of here."

  The priest still wasn't back when he returned to the kitchen. He could no longer see either of them out the window or the door. After a quick check of the cupboards, just in case Miyan had hidden their things there, he went back to work.

  If I ever manage to stop being a fugitive, I think I'll be a cook. It's the only thing I'm halfway decent at besides writing inflammatory prose, and a lot less likely to get me in trouble. Wonder if there's a market for Yelorrean food in Prandhar?

  A shadow crossed the doorway, paused a moment before the priest came slouching in. He avoided Ash's eyes. When he saw the empty table, he stood still for a long time. Ash just went on working as if nothing was unusual.

  "What did you do with it?" the priest said at last.

  "What did you do with our boots and guns?"

  "It won't do you any good. It's not a fair trade. If the Watch find out I had you and let you go --"

  "What I find myself wondering," Ash interrupted, "is what they'd think of the contents of that book. Wouldn't take them long to crack a simple substitution cipher. I'm guessing I could do it myself in under four hours." The look of shocked dismay on the priest's face confirmed his guess. Ash grinned and went on, "Didn't the notice say? I was a bit of an encryption expert when I was with the Resistance. Kieran's got sort of a talent for it, too. Hell, he cracked one of my ciphers, which is damn near impossible. Granted he just guessed the key, but -- oh, were we done talking?" This to the priest's back as the man dashed into the sanctuary.

  Ash followed and watched as the poor bastard upended his bench pile, looked behind the altar, growing more and more frantic.

  "Damn you!" The priest rounded on him. "I should have let you have both barrels, you sneaky godless faggot! You're going to bring them down on us, and poor Miyan -- after everything I did to save her --"

  "They're going to get you anyway. That hadn't occurred to you?"

  The priest stomped into the room with the bed, aiming a scowl at Kieran before beginning his search. "If I turn you two in, they'll take you and go. But you'll tell them I have a book in code, won't you? Just for spite! And they'll take my little girl away and wreck her beautiful mind!"

  "Why would -- her mind?" Understanding dawned. "Oh, you poor stupid trusting son of a bitch."

  From the bed, Kieran made a sound of annoyance. "Ash, would you just break this fucker's neck for me? He's making way too much noise."

  "Only if he doesn't settle down." Ash cracked his knuckles, which got the priest to stop searching. "Look, I don't know what kind of happy world you've been living in, but in the real one, the Watch don't give a damn for you or anyone. They have no respect. What did you think, you were going to get a medal? They'll rape your mind to find out if we told you anything interesting -- which is not fun, believe me, they did it to us a bunch of times. Then they'll probably kill you for knowing too much. And I'm guessing from what you said that you suspect Miyan's got a Talent, and you've been putting off giving her up to have it burned out. That's big trouble for you right there. You're screwed either way. So much for your duty to the Church."

  "I wish you'd never come here," the priest said tightly.

  "I'd be sorry, but I saw the village."

  "Miyan's done nothing to deserve any of this."

  "You're right, we owe her an apology. You, though... well, I just don't like you. Come on back to the kitchen, priest. We've kept Kieran awake long enough."

  With a final glare, the priest stomped out of the room. Kieran chuckled and said, "You're gonna be the mean one, huh?"

  "How am I doing?"

  "Not half bad."

  "I better go keep the pressure on."

  He went back into the kitchen, just in time to meet the priest coming in from the yard, shotgun at the ready. The end of it was shaking a little, but at this range he couldn't miss. Sweat beaded on the priest's forehead as he nerved himself to shoot.

  "That's one solution," Ash said, his voice level even as his stomach dropped through the floor.

  "Going to make Miyan help clean my intestines off the wall?"

  Slowly, by inches, the priest lowered the gun. "God help me, I can't." He leaned in the doorway, weariness dragging down every line of his frame. "You can't understand. Life is cheap for you, you outlaws. You kill and leave. And I have to live with the evidence every day... it's like having a corpse in your bed. You just don't understand. I had to send reports, I had to report my progress, I never thought it would condemn them..."

  Ash sighed, bowing his head. He was suddenly very sorry for everything he'd said to this man. "I shouldn't have thrown it in your face. You have no excuse to be naive again, though. If I were you, I'd watch for riders, and if you see dust on the horizon, take Miyan and run like hell. Or if you can stand our company, we could all leave together before they come for us. I don't agree with that 'life is cheap' comment, but we can defend you two better than you can defend yourselves."

  "Oh, certainly, I give you those guns and you immediately murder us."

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  "You killed women, why not a child and a priest?"

  "Women?" Ash shook his head slightly. "Can I see that notice you mentioned?"

  "I -- I suppose." Warily, keeping a close grip on the shotgun, the priest edged past. He went to the locked room, and came out a moment later, locking it behind him. He'd exchanged his weapon for a sheet of cheap cardstock, which he held out to Ash at arm's length.

  Ash's first reaction was a smile at the portraits. There must have been a sketch artist at the prison, because whoever drew these had obviously seen them in person. The pictures made them loo
k much meaner than Ash thought they did in real life, and showed Ash with his old squarish specs instead of the round ones he had on now. Nevertheless they were quite recognizable.

  Then he read the text. No charge of practicing unlicensed magic was listed, nor was concealing a Talent. The Watch were apparently keeping a lid on that one, which meant the priest didn't know. But they were wanted for the murder of eight people. Eight. Six of the names were male, and looked like the names of city-bred natives -- names like Addy Tallgrass and Laine Breakrocks. Probably the gangsters Kieran had shot in Shou-Shou's yard. But two were female: Jinnie Harkes and Amica Welard. His teeth creaked, and he had to force himself to stop grinding them. "Those -- those liars, those unimaginable shits!"

  Despite a flinch, the priest said bravely, "You expect me to believe you didn't kill those people?"

  "Not the girls! Those men attacked us, Kieran shot them, but not the girls! The Watch must have taken them or killed them in questioning. Oh god. Amica Welard; I think that's Ami. She lent me her bathrobe. Oh god."

  "I see. You killed those women simply by existing. Now you know how I feel."

  Ash stared at him in astonishment. "Are you going to stand there and feel sorry for yourself? I pity Miyan for having to live with you. Look, there's only one way out of this. Go find her, get our weapons, and let's all get the hell out of here. The sooner we go, the colder our trail gets."

  "If I do -- imagine for a moment that I do -- is your... friend in any shape to ride?"

  "I don't know. We can ride double again, or rig a litter."

  The priest dragged his hands down his face. Then he nodded. "I'm afraid you're right."

  Ash folded the notice and put it in his pants pocket; Kieran might want to see it, later. "Hurry, now. We should go right after we eat."

  "It's very strange to be taking orders from a boy half my age."

  "Oh for -- would you climb out of your rut already? Get moving!"

  Chapter Twenty

  He cried out as he woke, and was immediately ashamed. Pain surged in waves, through his arm and neck and back, a tight feeling in his lungs, a headache, shivers. The sound of Ash's voice made him angry; the smell of food nauseated him.

  No stranger to pain, he knew he could conquer it if he could only concentrate. If he could only find that place in his mind again, the one where he stood alone on top of things and looked down on his own suffering from a great height. This was Ash's fault. No, it was Kieran's own. He'd let himself sink for a while into dependance, and now he had to fight with himself to win back his heart's solitude. Because no one else could ride this pain for him. No one else could still his shivers and relax the tenseness they brought, keep from breaking his stitches, hold his rising stomach down when bone ends grated. Comfort was an illusion; but it had looked so real yesterday.

  "Get that away from me," he growled, slapping at the bowl Ash thrust at him. "I can't eat. I feel sick."

  "You feel sick because you haven't eaten."

  "I feel sick because I am sick, you idiot."

  "And you'll get sicker, if you don't get something in your stomach." The patience in Ash's eyes was infuriating.

  "Piss off, will you? Why can't you let me sleep? I need sleep."

  "You can't, I'm afraid. We're leaving as soon as you've eaten. I persuaded the priest to give our things back and leave with us."

  Scowling, Kieran tried to see if Ash was serious, if he was bragging, if he was still wearing that sappy expression of forbearance, but all he could see were the owl-like circles of reflected light on Ash's glasses. "You persuaded him?"

  "He's resistant to logic, but not fully immune. Unlike a certain someone, whom I will have to force-feed if he doesn't cooperate."

  "The hell you will."

  "I will. I said I'd be the mean one and I meant it. I'm going to keep you alive whether you help or not, you overgrown adolescent, so stop wasting time."

  The effort to keep frowning was too much. Kieran closed his eyes with a sigh. "Fine. It'll come right back up, but fine."

  "Fine." A hand that felt chill by contrast wrapped the back of Kieran's neck, lifting his head so something could be placed behind it. Rougher and stiffer than a pillow, maybe a rolled rug. The sound of metal against crockery. Something touched Kieran's lips; he allowed the spoon, swallowed something warm and salty with chunks in it, coughed. There was pain. Once his face relaxed from grimacing, the spoon came back.

  It tasted wrong. Too salty, not salty enough, metallic, he wasn't sure. There was a slight burn of peppers growing in the back of his throat as he ate. Good for the head, bad for the stomach.

  Whatever it was had a canned taste to it. He remembered taking a stack of tinned goods at the store in Smith without looking what was on the labels. For all he knew he was eating dog food.

  "What's in this?" he asked between swallows.

  "Rice, corn, sausage, stuff like that. We have one can of beans left and a couple cans of olives.

  Why'd you get olives?"

  "Dunno. Wait..." He turned his head away from the spoon and coughed again. A gob of something thick and nasty-tasting came up, and he swallowed it rather than make Ash deal with it. "Stuff doesn't taste right."

  "That's because your fever's back, but you won't get over it if you don't eat. Come on now, you're halfway through."

  After a few more bites, he heard light footsteps, the rustle of Miyan's skirt. "All ready. You come now."

  "We'll be a few more minutes," Ash said. "Did you and the priest eat the rest?"

  "Yes, all gone." Then she added in Iavaian, to Kieran, "You don't look in any shape to ride. What are you going to do?"

  Kieran opened his eyes. That damn silly cheerful girl was gawking at him while he let himself be fed like an infant. He was gearing up for an angry reply when the humor of the situation struck him. "Whatever my nursemaid tells me to, I guess."

  "That's good. He's strong, for all he looks like a baby chickenhawk. He made Father Ilder agree to run away before the white coats come."

  "What are you two talking about?" Ash asked.

  Kieran ignored him. "Any idea where we're going? I doubt I can make it very far. It might be better to stay and get my strength back so I can fight."

  Miyan shook her head, serious-faced for once. "Your edeime is a smart man, and the only thing in the world he cares about is you. If you don't listen to someone like that, everything will go wrong."

  "I'm very sorry to interrupt," Ash said, "but this is the last hot meal he'll get for I don't know how long, and I'd like him to eat it while it is hot."

  "Okay," Miyan chirped, and dashed off.

  Resigned, Kieran looked to Ash, waiting for the next spoon of wrong-tasting glop, and noticed something he hadn't before. "Where'd you get a shirt?"

  "Bummed it from the priest. I have one for you too, but first you have to finish eating."

  "I want my gun."

  "I'm going to smack you in a second here. Then I'm going to hold your nose and pour this down your throat."

  Kieran gave up and let himself be fed.

  When he'd swallowed the last spoonful, and washed it down with warm water, he let himself be pulled to a sitting position, though the pain of it nearly brought all that corn and rice back up, and he managed to stay sitting while Ash helped him dress. Because of the sling, the shirt had to be draped around his right shoulder, he couldn't put his arm in the sleeve. His leather trousers smelled of horse and stale Kieran, so he didn't want to wear them, but was just cogent enough to stop himself from complaining.

  Ash took the book he'd hidden earlier and slipped it into a pack already full of food and ammunition. Then he knelt and started stuffing Kieran's feet into his boots. "My god, you have enormous feet. I've never seen such gigantic feet in my life. How on earth did Shou-Shou ever find boots to fit you?"

  "She's a clever woman. And you have a big nose," he added in a surly tone.

  "I didn't mean it as an insult. I was just observing."

  "So w
as I. You just have a big nose. Maybe it looks bigger because it's red."

  "You think my face is red, you should see my back. It's coming off in patches."

  "Oh, that's attractive."

  "Yeah, I'm thinking I'll start a new fashion. The flayed look. Tell me if I'm buckling these too tight."

  "Pull it all the way, they're a bit loose."

  "Better?" Ash finished fastening the last buckle. He stood and put his pack on his back. Then he bent to lift Kieran's left arm around his neck.

  "What, now?" Kieran froze in alarm, then made himself relax. Of course it was going to hurt.