In the Shadow of the Rook (The Sons Incarnate Book 1)

by JDL Rosell

  Someone shook him by the shoulders and shouted in his ear. “Erik!” a woman’s voice came. “Erik!”

  A long-missed face drifted before his eyes, ethereally bright in memory. As if it might make it appear in life, he whispered, “Ilyse…” In the darkness, he might almost imagine it her, might make her into the person he wished she could be. But he knew he’d let that dream die long ago. He had to let her go to the mud, or be dragged down with her.

  “Erik!”

  He opened his eyes to the darkness and rain. “I’m here,” he croaked, crushed windpipe barely cooperating. “I’m awake.”

  To his surprise, he felt her fall against him in a painful, wet embrace. “Thank Qel’Amode,” she whispered in her ear. “Praise be to the Mother’s graces.”

  He wearily pushed against her. “Time for that later. Now, we go.”

  Tara nodded and rose to gather Persey nearby. Erik breathed in, then out, then rose, and avoided looking at the boulder as he turned after them.

  Eighteen

  “Lucky about that boulder,” Tara mentioned some time later, after the storm cleared away and some of the moon’s light peaked out. The horizon had started to color with dawn, and Erik thought he could see the dark tops of trees somewhere ahead—north, the sun and moon told him now. Even with all that had happened, they’d managed to keep somewhat on course.

  It was easier wondering about that happy accident than thinking on the one Tara mentioned.

  “Yes,” he said. “Lucky.”

  “Did you do that?” Tara asked Persey, who tottered next to her, near collapsing out with exhaustion.

  The girl shook her head, but didn’t seem able to answer further.

  “Lucky,” Tara repeated, but she looked at Erik as she said it. See how much more you can become? he remembered the Magpie had said.

  Erik remembered the feeling of the drum moving through him, and how he had thrummed back, vibrating all the way up the hillside and into the stones beneath the boulder. At least, he thought he had—but how could he have done that? He must have imagined the whole thing—there’d been no drum, no invisible limb of his, no power. It was all just an accident.

  But that feeling that had moved through him—it had felt so real, so part of him. And it had made him feel strong, powerful, capable of anything. Almost like... a god.

  Right, he thought. You, a god—as likely a sheep be a prince. What a god you would be, Erik ven’Suden.

  But he pushed the matter from his mind as they descended the last of the Barrows and stole back into the forest. He never thought the twisted boughs of the bruns trees overhead and the large, rotting leaves below would feel so comforting.

  But he had little time to enjoy it, for Tara grabbed his arm and roughly shook the feeling from him. “Get back!” she hissed and pulled him and Persey behind a tree. Erik heard what she had, a rustle from the trees before them.

  Not again, he moaned inwardly, and was surprised to feel tears pressing at his eyes. He was so tired, so worn, so defeated, he couldn’t fight anymore. There was no drum echoing through him. He had no power to save Tara or Persey, much less himself.

  The rustling drew closer, and he thought he heard voices—human voices. And was that a glow approaching through the trees?

  “Is that…” She seemed unable to believe it.

  Erik could hardly believe it himself, but he nodded. There were indistinguishable words coming through the leaves, but definitely human. They came closer still, close enough to see the torchlight and outlines of men. “Human,” Erik confirmed finally, releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

  Then he remembered what he was, and what they looked like, and how close they must be to Lienze. And how they must have discovered what had happened to the hermit, and who had done it.

  Tara had started pulling Persey to her feet, but Erik touched her arm. “Wait,” he said with his strained voice. “Don’t let them see us.”

  “Why?” Tara snapped, though she obliged to stay hidden. “We need help, and they can help us. Persey’s about dead with exhaustion, and neither of us have had real food in days. Just because you’re Recarnate doesn’t mean—”

  The word hit him like a tree’s felling blow. “What? I’m not Recarnate.” But all he could think about was the boulder falling.

  Her eyes flicked towards the approaching voices, growing louder. “I’m not going to argue this,” she said. “We’ll die out here if we don’t go to them. Come now, Persey.” And she made the girl rise to her feet and step from around the tree. Erik stayed put a moment longer, but what was the use? She was right—they were at the last of their strength, even him, and wouldn’t make it on their own. With a sigh—the last one he’d likely take—he shakily rose to stand next to them.

  The men saw them a few moments later. “Ho!” they shouted. “Live folk!” And they rushed up to greet them. There were five in all, of various shapes and sizes, but all carried farming implements in one hand and torches in the other. The flames were held behind their heads so as not to ruin their night vision, but it cast their faces in shadow.

  But he didn’t need help recognizing the foremost man; Wil Tanner was a hard man to misplace, what with his great mass and even greater presence. Erik just hoped the big man wouldn’t recognize him. A warm seemed a fair sight unlikely at this point.

  Whatever luck they’d had escaping the lurchers was truly and well dissipated, though, for Wil recognized him anyway. “Sweat of the Mother’s teats, I’ll be damned if I expected to see you here.” His voice was cooler than before, and his words a good deal less slurred.

  “Wil,” Erik said hoarsely.

  Tara looked between them. “You know these men?”

  “I know him all right,” Wil said. “He killed our hermit.”

  Everyone reacted at once. Tara and Persey recoiled, while Wil’s companions cried out and brandished their homemade weapons. But though Erik flinched back, he didn’t retreat, and Wil didn’t move forward.

  “Yes,” Erik said. “I did, but I had good reason. He attacked me first.”

  “Him, attack you?” Wil snorted. “That slug couldn’t move off his rock, much less throw a punch.”

  Erik swallowed and tried to speak louder, but his throat couldn’t manage it. “He set his lurcher on me, as well as the animals.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Why else would I kill him? We had no quarrel.”

  Wil shrugged, and a man behind him spoke. “We oughta kill him for that. The hermit was our town’s protector, bastard! We’ve had to fight for our lives this week past because of you.”

  “True enough,” Wil growled. “First it was the hermit’s creatures. Without him around, the yungleaf sap won’t keep them off. We drove them away or stabbed their bloated bellies, and that generally settled them, as they set to eating each other instead of us. But then other nautded walked in as leisurely as they pleased. Which is why we’re here, actually. Regular patrols now, to keep informed on what’s roaming the woods near the Barrows. Pretty chance we ran into you.”

  “Would have been luckier if you had found us a bit earlier.” Erik nodded down at his ruined clothes. “We've already taken care of your patrolling.”

  Wil looked them up and down. “I suppose you have had a run-in,” he admitted. His eyes went to Persey, and even with his face in shadow, Erik could see his brows furrow. “And this girl’s much the worse for it.”

  “I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused with the hermit," Erik said, the uncomfortable words faltering on his tongue. "I was only protecting myself. And now…” He gestured to Tara and Persey, letting them speak for his intentions.

  Wil scratched at his beard. “Well, you’re a problem, and no mistake. I can’t say I’m happy you killed the slug, but the hermit was a nekromist, after all. And if your story is true—”

  “We can’t know that!” the man behind Wil protested. “And it doesn’t matter either way. He murdered in Lienze! Our town!” There were mur
murs of agreement around them.

  “Stop that,” Wil growled, turning around. They mumbled a few moments more before falling silent. “Yes, the hermit lived near Lienze, and served Lienze, but he was not one of us. And he was a nekromist—‘Lothe’s sake, he made the damn creatures that attacked us, and as good as made the other deadwalkers.” He looked back at Erik. “Now I’m not saying I like the idea of letting a murderer walk among us, but it seems we shouldn’t have to kill a man for defending his own person.”

  Erik felt the men’s anger ease, and their weapons went to their sides again. “Thanks,” Erik muttered, eyes flitting over the men.

  “Don’t thank me,” Wil said gruffly and jerked his head at Tara and Persey. “It’s for them. What’s a relict and a girl doing with such swine anyhow?”

  “He does smell like a pig, doesn’t he?” Tara looked at Erik and—did she wink? “But believe or not, Erik is our escort to Zauhn. Kuust has been attacked and overrun, and we need to inform Her Ancient at the fontary there.”

  “Kuust overrun?” Wil shot a glance at Erik, and Erik tried not to let his guilt show.

  But it was all but forgotten the next moment. “Sounds like you need a ride,” the tanner declared. “Alright, men, we know what happened here. Let’s get you back to your wives and beds. And you three, I’ve got two asses and a cart to take you, if you don’t leave me waiting all night.” He turned away, and the other village men followed.

  Erik felt his knees go weak with relief. “You… you’re helping us?”

  Wil half-turned back. “I’m helping them. But you can come along, too. I…” He swallowed. “That was a fine thing you did for my family, it was.”

  The silver coins he’d dropped in the doorway—somehow, the tanner had figured it out. “It was nothing.”

  “It was everything,” Wil growled. “No matter how I might dislike the way things happened, you’re the reason I’m not slobbering over a mug right now. If you hadn’t killed the hermit, hadn’t given coin to my family like we were paupers, I might have never walked away from drink.” He sighed. “Or mostly so. Still weaning off, but soon, it’ll just be ale for meals like other folks, and no libations after supper.”

  It was a bit premature to hope he was off the spirits, Erik knew, and he doubted he was much to thank. But he hardly had so much goodwill that he could afford to waste any. “We’re grateful for your help, Wil."

  The tanner nodded and turned away, while Erik turned to Tara. With her obliging nod, they followed after.

  Erik had thought riding would be more pleasant. After all, they’d been on their feet for days on end, with wounds carved over wounds, and little in the way of water, food, or rest.

  Was he ever wrong.

  Sitting in the bed of the cart with Persey and the tanner’s hides, the back wheels found bumps as numerous as the Maidens in the night sky. Persey just bumped up and down, arms crossed, smiling slightly. She’d become remarkably cheery after her meal of cold lentils and stale bread, and seemed even happier to see Erik mauled half to death by the rebellious road.

  Could be worse, he thought. Could be you were confronting your father about why he gave you up for dead. His grimace wasn’t all for the bumps in the road.

  His only distraction was another agony: how he was to enter Zauhn. By now, one of the Eyes at least would know Erik should be dead, and wouldn’t be much inclined to let a lurcher in, powers of speech irregardless. He could try the river gate, but it would be daylight when they arrived; not exactly a subtle time to float in. And if he could even manage the swim, he couldn’t wait for night, not with what was hunting him.

  He got another whiff of tannin, and it came to him: the hides. It seemed unlikely they’d check the skins for contraband, much less lurchers. He settled back, feeling ever so slightly easier, until his bones were nearly rattled loose by another bump.

  Spurts of conversation broke out between the tanner and the relict sitting up front, though they never lasted long. Wil, for one, still seemed sore at Erik, for more or less valid reasons. As for Tara, he wondered how she took the news of his activities in Lienze. They’d walked behind Wil and his fellow villagers so exhausted they could barely walk, much less discuss past transgressions. Did she see him the same? Or did she imagine him cutting the man’s throat open? For, nekromist or not, the hermit had still been a man.

  But do all men have the right to live? The king’s rule declared both nekromy and murder punishable by death. That meant the hermit’s life was lawfully forfeit, along with Vodrun’s and Oslef’s. And his father’s—he was apparently the leader of them all.

  And you? The devilish voice inquired innocently. What would happen to you, if you subjected yourself to the law?

  He tried not to dream about fiery death as he drifted to sleep.

  “Zauhn, ho!” Wil announced in his booming voice, and Erik’s stomach leaped as he jolted awake.

  “Wait!” he hissed. “Stop the cart! I can’t let them see me.”

  Wil halted the donkey, but he turned around, an incredulous look on his face. “En’t this your home?” he demanded. “What the hell did you…? No, don’t tell me. You murdered a man here, too?”

  Erik swallowed. “Never mind that. You’re doing this to help Tara and Persey, right?”

  Tara also stared and reached for Persey so that she crowded up next to her. The girl peered at him through her curtain of hair, the first glimmers of anger in her eyes.

  Erik relented. “Fine. Another nekromist.”

  Wil threw up his hands. “That just takes it, doesn’t it?”

  “So what? Are you just going to leave me out here?” He knew he shouldn’t be angry with the tanner, not after the favors he’d done them, but he was on the verge of abandoning him just when he needed him most. Haven’t you taken enough? part of him asked, but he ignored it. “You said I saved you. Whether I knew it or not, I helped save you.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment until a bump in the road intervened. When Erik looked back up, the tanner had turned forward, head shaking.

  “I don’t know why,” he said slowly, “but I think I’m going to help you. Must not like nekromists much.” He studied Erik from the corner of his eye. “Just answer me this. You planning on murdering anyone else?”

  Erik thought of his father. “No.”

  It was apparently enough for Wil. “Get under the skins then. And Persey, you sit right on top of him.”

  The little imp had a gleam in her eye that Erik didn’t like, but he obeyed all the same. “Thank you,” he mumbled as he wriggled under them. “I owe you a great debt.”

  “Damn right you do,” Wil muttered, his voice muffled by the skins.

  His breath sounded loud as they set off again, and the air was too thick to properly breathe, but he kept his eyes closed and tried not to panic. When he heard the sharp, prompt voice of an Eye, though, it took all his self-control to keep hidden under the hides.

  “Halt! What’s this here?”

  “Hello!” Wil answered, jovial as a festival-goer. “A good morning to you, sir.”

  “Traveling the night through, tanner? Beaver-eager to put your wares on the market, is that right?”

  “Hard work keeping five bellies full—six-and-half if you include my own.” Wil gave a little laugh. “When you can’t lose out on a day’s work, you give up a night’s sleep, that’s how I see it.”

  The Eye grunted. “And you, sister, you don’t have the look of a carp. What brings you here?”

  Erik swallowed. He hadn’t thought mere town guards would question women of the Font, but Tara sounded nonplussed. “If you must know, I bear urgent news from Font Amode of Kuust for Her Ancient of Zauhn. What news, it is not your privilege to know. It has already cost me in clothes and dignity, as you may tell yourself, and I will not waste it on you.”

  “Not so urgent a task you couldn’t tote the girl around though, eh?” The haughty Eye accused.

  The leathers above shifted, and Erik wond
ered if Persey herself was going to answer, but Tara quickly said, “My novice goes where I do, and is none of your concern.”

  “Everything and everyone that goes through this gate is my concern.” The guard’s voice cracked like a whip. “So, if you’ll move over, Little Mother, I’ll take a look at the tanner’s goods here.”

  Erik’s throat went dry as sand. He was done for. How could he avoid detection with the guard rummaging around in the cart bed? He slowly moved himself away from the man’s voice, hoping his hands would somehow miss him, hoping for another miracle like in the forest.

  “I’m a regular trader here,” Wil protested.

  Tara also voiced her irritation. “Must this really delay me further? My news is of the utmost importance—”

  “Fine, sister,” the Eye snapped. “If you’re in such a hurry, we’ll escort you. Dedrich!”

  “Sir?” a hoarse man replied from a distance.

  “Take the relict and her girl directly to the fontary. They bear important news.”

  “Yessir,” the hoarse man said. “With me, if you please, goodwoman, Little Mother.”

  There came the sound of the gate cranking up, and Erik cursed Qel’Amode for the stroke of misfortune. Then again, they’re better off not around me. He still had a bitter taste in his mouth, and it wasn’t from the tannin.

  “Now that that tight-mouthed bitch is out of the way, we can attend to you, tanner.”

  Erik bristled inwardly, but Wil seemed collected. “Check if you like, but I’d have to be a damn fool to try and sneak anything in as a tanner, as you ought to know.”

  Right on the second account at least. He was glad he was his fool, though.

  “And why’s that?” the Eye snapped.

  “You know as well as I do, sir, that my leather is practically contraband already, what with the tight grip Zauhn’s current tanner has here. I’m out on a limb already.”