The Brass God

by K. M. McKinley

  “To the east, Valatrice!” Antoninan called. He pointed toward a group of square shapes clustered around the base of a massive boulder, alone on a stretch of rocky ground between the beach and the dunes.

  Wordlessly, Valatrice obeyed. He adjusted his course, and the rest followed him. The boulder grew improbably huge. There was nothing else like it in the bay, it was as if a giant had carved off part of a hill preparatory to making an immense sculpture, but been called away before he could commence his work. Ilona watched as the shapes at its feet grew and took on details of their own. Stiff tarpaulins covered piles of supplies. Ice-caked ropes held them in place. Several of the coverings had torn free in winter storms, and quivered in the sea breeze, revealing stores of timber and wooden crates, lashed together with yet more rope.

  By the time the sleds came to a halt by the stores, the dogs were panting happily. Long pink tongues hung like wet flags from their jaws. A whistle from Antoninan’s groom, and they collapsed into the snow, revelling in cold that would chill a man to death.

  Antoninan jumped down from the halted sled. He selected four men; always, Ilona had noticed, he chose from a mixture of Trassan’s and Persin’s group. At his direction they made for the crates. The rest of the party clambered to the ground and worked out stiff limbs and clapped together cold hands. They talked cheerfully, the two groups united in their relief at reaching the bay.

  Ilona shouldered her rifle, took Tyn Rulsy’s hand in her own and followed the polar explorer.

  In the shade of the boxes it was cold. Antoninan was busy inspecting his supplies, calling out orders in his native Low Maceriyan. Axes cut ropes that shattered more than broke. Crates were dragged out.

  “He is an impressive leader, isn’t he?”

  Persin’s voice at her elbow took Ilona by surprise. He walked softly for such a large man. The supplies were located well past the highest tide marks, where ocean rounded pebbles gave way to rougher, ice shattered rock, and yet he made no sound when he approached.

  “To tell you the truth, I wish I had such a facility with others. There is something inspiring about him. He is a national hero at home in Maceriya, and rightfully so.” Without thinking, Persin reached out and ruffled Tyn Rulsy’s hood. She growled at him.

  “Charming,” said Persin uneasily.

  Bannord strode past. “Come on soldier,” he said to Ilona. “No hanging about. There’s work to do.”

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  “Of course,” said Persin with a small bow.

  Ilona caught up with Bannord, Rulsy trotted behind.

  “Thank you for that,” she said. “I find him unctuous. I would despise him even had he not killed my cousin.”

  “The man’s a prick,” said Bannord brightly. “A nasty, envious, foreign prick. Still, we’re all in this together. Best be nice. We can kill him later. Hey! Antoninan! How goes it?”

  Antoninan turned gleefully to Bannord. Ilona had never seen him so happy.

  “Lieutenant!” he said. “My cache here has weathered the past two winters well. We should be able to discard some of our less useful assets and collect better tents, food and other necessities. There is much in these stores one needs to survive in these environs, although not so much as I stocked the holds of the Prince Alfra with, regrettably.”

  “The tide is high,” said Bannord, nodding at the gentle waves washing the shore. They were not due a great tide, whose limit was delineated by yet more blocks of shattered ice a hundred yards further toward the sea. “This a is a major tide coming in now, but should it come so far in?”

  “My guess is the normal run of tides is being thrown off by the nearing Twin,” said Antoninan.

  “Maybe,” said Bannord.

  A group of men were pulling out long boxes, taking out the tents from within and checking them. A cheer went up as Ranost pulled out a clinking crate, pried off the lid, and pulled out a bottle of Maceriyan apple brandy.

  “You have brandy. Is there any food?” said Bannord.

  “There is not,” said Antoninan. “It would keep well in these temperatures, but it is my custom to feast with the men before we return and use up our remaining supplies. The sea drays are inquisitive and hungry. They break open the stores if there is the faintest whiff of sustenance. I have seen them bite through sealed tins to get at the contents. If I had left so much as a ship’s biscuit here, all you see would have been scattered about the beach.”

  “So a hunting party then,” said Bannord. “We’re going to have to move quickly. The men are quite well rested after that last run of snow.” He looked at the sky. “We should set out immediately to find meat. The better prepared we are to run if we have to, the happier we will be.”

  “You insist on making camp here,” said Antoninan off-handedly.

  “I do. We will wait here as long as we can. I will not brave this passage that might not exist if we can sail out of here in comfort.”

  “The Prince Alfra is lost to us. The Draathis still pursue us.” Antoninan pointed to the west. The party had drawn well ahead of the enemy. The steam marking the enemy’s progress had diminished to a thread, finally disappearing over the horizon a few days before.

  Bannord signed and kicked at the loose stone.

  “Antoninan, we have talked about this. The expedition council has voted to wait, so we will wait. We need to gather food anyway. If we don’t, we’ll surely starve seeking out this route of yours.”

  Antoninan made a show of not paying much attention to Bannord, exerting his authority by directing the men in their unloading.

  “Antoninan!” said Bannord, riled.

  “Yes, yes.” He finally deigned to look to Bannord. “There is a large colony of sea drays at the end of the bay. Naturally, their presence is one of the things that makes this site so attractive. A sheltered anchorage, often free of ice, herds of animals to hunt. All these factors determined my selection of it for my base of operations many times.” He nodded, pleased with himself. He had discovered the bay. He did not need to remind the others of it again. “It is a shame the ice prevented our landing here.”

  “Then I shall get together a group of men and go now. How many sea drays should we take?”

  “Five should be enough to feed us for a week. You will only need one sled that way. In my years here, we have ridden back upon the meat. Stay close to the edge of the colony. Pick off those that are isolated. The sea drays will not stray far from the edge of their territory. If you venture too deeply within, they will turn on you. We have no zoologist with us, but those I employed before tell me this herding is common in animals who rely on safety in numbers; it can be exploited, if you make sure it does not work against you.”

  “Safety from what?” asked Bannord with a half laugh. “Iron monsters?”

  “Answers to questions like that are why people like me come to places like this, my friend. At the moment, I cannot say. It is a glorious mystery, like all this marvellous continent. You can be sure that where there is such a high number of prey, there will be predators”

  “So we might not be the only ones with meat on our minds,” said Bannord.

  “I have seen nothing but drays in the bay. Here though, nothing is certain. Be on your guard.”

  Bannord and Ilona left Antoninan to reorder their supplies. Bannord tapped her on the shoulder, and leaned in close.

  “He was a miserable bastard on the boat,” said Bannord quietly. “Now look at him.”

  Ilona glanced back.

  “You know what I think?” continued Bannord. “I think he’s enjoying this far too much.”

  “DARRASIND, FORFETH, ARETIMUS, you’re with me. Corporal Ranost, keep this rabble occupied while I’m out. Make sure the children play nice and,” he added conspiratorially, “don’t let Antoninan’s ego crush anyone.” He clapped his hands together hard. “I need volunteers, a hunting party. Who is for it?”

  “I have hunted many beasts in the forests of the Olberlands,” said Crut.

&n
bsp; “You’re a very talented man, Crut,” said Bannord. Crut executed a clipped, Olberlander’s bow. “You’re coming.”

  They were all speaking Maceriyan, for the benefit of those in Persin’s party who knew no Karsarin. Bannord’s grasp of the language was cheerfully incorrect, but good enough.

  “I will come, mesire,” said Favreau.

  “I’ll come too,” said Jeuney.

  “Well done. Now I need drays.”

  “I go,” said Labarr, the larger of Persin’s two Sorkosan pack leaders. He growled his words so much less beautifully than Valatrice spoke.

  Valatrice rose up and stretched languidly, displaying the full length of his enormous body for all to see. “Then I too will come,” he said.

  “No need, two leaders,” grumbled Labarr.

  “I desire to hunt.”

  The hackles on Labarr’s back rose.

  “We can both go,” said Valatrice. “You and I. We shall have a contest, and see who hunts the best.”

  “Right, fine,” said Bannord. “We need two sleds anyway, one for us and the other for our kills.”

  “Antoninan said we should take one sled,” said Ilona.

  “Antoninan can go fuck himself,” said Bannord. “He’s not going to be happy anyway, with his prize pup coming with us, I’ll wager. So what’s a few more dogs?”

  Labarr curled his lip and slunk off to his own pack. Unlike the leaders, the other drays had been pegged out. Morsia, the third leader dog, lay in the snow, her white coat camouflaging her perfectly. She was smaller than the males, but wiser. Her tongue lolled in amusement at the others’ behaviour.

  Antoninan was unhappy about Valatrice’s inclusion, and displeased with Bannord taking two sleds, but would not argue with his dog or with Bannord in front of the expedition.

  Persin sat apart while the hunting party prepared, the satchel on his knees. Neither Bannord nor Antoninan wished for his help, and he poked at stones with a plank of wood taken from a crate until, with a final jab, he stood, and made his way over.

  “Balls,” said Bannord under his breath. “He wants to come with us too.”

  Persin called one of his mercenaries to him, and after a brief argument, relieved him of his gun, swapping it with the satchel.

  “I can shoot,” said Persin.

  “It looks like you can eat too,” said Bannord, with a look at Persin’s gut.

  Persin’s face hardened. “This expedition would be far more pleasant if we were polite with each other, mesire.”

  “I’ll settle for surviving. If you’re coming, fine. Don’t expect me to be your very best friend.”

  They harnessed the dogs. Ilona helped Antoninan’s groom, Gestane, put on their tackle.

  “The sea drays are like dogs,” said Ilona to Valatrice. “Does it not trouble you?”

  “Not at all,” he replied. “I have eaten them many times before. They are not drays, but of the dracon-kind. Their coats look like fur, but they are made of feathers. They resemble we dogs superficially, but it is coincidence. I have no compunction at killing them at all. And, my little stowaway, you should know, I would have no issue in eating my colleagues here, were they dead. And no issue in eating you either, if the situation called for it. No offence meant.”

  “None taken,” said Ilona, though she looked at the dog with fresh eyes.

  Valatrice’s long mouth grinned.

  “But only if you were dead.”

  “WELL WOULD YOU look at that,” said Bannord

  The hunting party headed away from the sea a little and approached the sea dray rookery from the landward side in order to scout the ground. The hills were higher toward the headland, and they looked down from a hundred feet or so onto their quarry.

  Thousands of sea drays roosted at the northern end of the bay, nesting on conical piles of rocks the height of Ilona’s waist. They were large animals, half the size of a dray dog, with glossy black coats and pointed, whiskery faces. Valatrice’s assertion that they were a type of dracon was clear enough. They had six flippers. The two forward pairs were muscular, and allowed them to walk in a clumsy fashion. The rear pair pointed backwards, and they carried these off the ground, almost like a tail.

  Sea drays came and went from the ocean half a mile from the rookery. They looked to be taking advantage of the major tide to bring as much fish as they could up to their brooding partners, dropping mouthfuls of it in piles to be consumed later. Nearly every nest had a dray atop it. They never left their perches, but when they moved a flash of pale blue betrayed the presence of eggs. Dracon-skuas screeched above, hovering for a few seconds then darting away, on the lookout for exposed eggs. Those that came too close to the nesting creatures were chasing off by bared teeth and angry barking.

  “Look there, lieutenant,” said Crut. “We should go back down and attack from the ocean. These are sea creatures, they will run for the water. If we come at them from the sea, they will be panicked and be easier prey.” He pointed to a towering lump of ice in the process of being sculpted out of existence by the sun. It chilled its surroundings, allowing a patch of snow some hundred yards across to persist around it. “There is snow there. We can run the sleds over the sand dunes right to it. It is perfect. The wind is blowing toward it, they will not smell us, and we can load our kills easily once we are done. We can make this easy for ourselves.”

  “Everyone agree?” Bannord asked. No one objected, and so they came from the hills and down onto the sand. The dogs strained at the increased friction, but they were back on snow soon enough, coming at the sea drays from the southwest.

  They untethered the dogs. Men and drays fanned out. Ilona was close by Ardovani and Darrasind, who, following his drunken pass at her on the ship, still found it hard to look her in the eye.

  She took position behind an abandoned nest, right at the edge of the rookery. The pebbles were roughly stacked and cemented together with droppings, so it stank. Feathers lined the bottom. Inside were broken eggshells, their white insides smeared with blood dried black. It was built far out from the rest, perhaps a young dray’s first, unsuccessful attempt at parenthood. The drays at the periphery of the rookery seemed smaller than the ones nearer the middle.

  Valatrice and Labarr led their packs past the ice block to the water. The hunters were completely silent. Darrasind leaned against a tumbled nest. Apart from his back and hooded head, Ilona saw none of the others. She could have been all alone.

  The honking barks of the sea drays was a physical wall ahead of her. Their stink cloyed her throat. Small black flies buzzed around, feasting on the guano cement. This was the sea drays’ world, not hers.

  For several tense minutes they lay in wait.

  Howling broke the calm, and uproar reigned.

  Ilona stood up. Men appeared from their hiding places. The sea drays barking became deafening. Pebbles clattered as they slipped off their nests. A black ripple emanated from the hunting ground as the sea drays fled in slithering stampede. The sea was white with the entry of so many bodies into the water, but the dogs came barking and snapping up from the ocean, turning many about. Several large males attacked the dogs. Valatrice led the fight back. Canine bodies tumbled over slick, black, sea drays. The ferocity of their battle was awe inspiring. Such energy unleashed. Their warring knocked down nests. Blood, feathers and fur flew everywhere. The sea drays ran from the dogs. The dogs pulled down stragglers, and tore out their throats. Many came toward the men’s position. Now was the time to act.

  “Fire!” bellowed Bannord.

  It seemed an age had passed, but only seconds had. The sea drays stampeded. Nests tumbled. Dracon-skuas cried and dove, spearing abandoned eggs with long beaks.

  Gunfire intruded into the contest of tooth and claw. Ilona drew a bead on a sea dray surging toward her. It was magnificent. Muscles rippled under protective fat.

  A single shot made it still. The men were all firing. Only Ardovani restrained himself, his weapon too powerful for hunting. He came, he said, to o
ffer protection. Ilona thought he did not want her to spend time alone with Bannord.

  “Cease firing!” shouted Bannord.

  The sea drays were calming. Those further away followed nature’s cold calculations and remained atop their nests, seeing no danger to themselves. The ones driven off into the sea bobbed about in the low swell, baying mournfully as the dracon-skuas pecked into their young.

  Several score of nests were vacant. The eggs would freeze. Already Bannord was calling Valatrice back from his kill, getting the dogs ready to haul the dead sea drays away from the colony to where they might be safely butchered. Nine were dead. Hundreds of eggs would fail so they could eat. Ilona was saddened. All her life she had read of these places, but now she despoiled them.

  A frantic honking came from the sea, and the sea drays were suddenly returning to land, swimming so fast they jumped out of the waves and landed awkwardly upon the rock. At first Ilona had the absurd idea the sea drays were seeking revenge, but then she saw they fled a greater threat.

  The broad blue head of a sea dragon emerged from the ocean, not five hundred feet from her position. It leapt up, and dove under the surface. A second appeared some hundred yards further away. She saw their arrowed bodies as pale ribbons under the sea, and they burst out of the water with even more power than the sea drays, screeching loudly, scattering their prey before. Now the entire colony was in uproar. More animals abandoned their nests, even those far away that remained on theirs craned their necks and swayed nervously to keep watch on their hunters.

  But the dragons were nearest to the men.

  THE FIRST DRAGON came out of the sea close to Forfeth. At ten yards long it was more than five times the size of the sea drays. Light blue scales covered the upper half of its lithe body, white banding covered its belly. A long head supported a snout lined with recurved teeth and backward-pointing spines. Frills depended from its jaw, four horns crowned its head. It too had three pairs of flippers, rhombus-shaped things that ploughed long, curved furrows into the mix of ice and stone at the shore.