“I live for the soft words that ride on your breath, milady.”
“I threatened my daughters with torture, if they broke him.”
It was a lie, but not much of one. She had made it very clear to her three daughters that this man’s boy was to be left unbroken—though she hadn’t gone so far as to threaten them with torture.
“You are as kind as you are beautiful.”
“Stop that,” she said, pouting. “I’ll not have you speak to me like some Shakespearean lover. Then I know you’re lying.”
“You want the truth then?” Galen’s voice was dangerous.
Calimay didn’t want this moment to end, but she couldn’t keep herself from answering his challenge. “Yes.”
“I’ve missed you.”
The compliment caught her off guard. She felt tears welling up behind her eyes. There was an uncomfortable warmth spreading through her body.
Oh please, Ahuramazda, don’t curse me to love this man who knows nothing of your ways.
But maybe having his love was possible. She could subject him to an interrogation. A Little Lady might not be enough to cover it, but certainly one of her daughters could perform a conversion on the man. This one wouldn’t dare lose his manhood, not Galen. Then he could be taught how a man ought to act. He might understand how fighting the demons head on, like a male would want to, was what made Hell so dangerous. That it was this strategy, driven by the male machismo, which had torn apart the world above. Surely, if he knew those things, he would start acting appropriately. He could be a mate for her. Her prime mate. Maybe even a life mate. Maab had outlawed those, but hell, that was why she had broken away from Maab wasn’t it?
But I would not love the man I’d broken.
She sighed.
Galen nuzzled her, pushing her head gently to one side and then whispered into her ear. “Calimay, my dearest love. Why do you sigh so deeply?”
The admission of his love sent shivers of electricity through her body. The feelings inside her became so hideously strong that she was afraid she would cry. She didn’t dare let herself do that. No priestess of Ahuramazda could do such a thing. It wasn’t safe. If any one of her servants saw her crying, they’d have to be killed lest they spread the word of her weakness. Only a front of absolute strength could keep her people safe.
She breathed again, more easily, content now that she had decided not to cry. She felt something run down her cheek. Its warm substance touched her lips, and then tongue. It tasted like salt.
Her body wasn’t listening.
She couldn’t stop it, so she cried. She cried for a long time.
“I’m sorry,” Calimay said after she had regained her composure.
He wrapped her up in his corded arms. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, milove. Nothing at all.”
“You don’t understand. Everything’s falling apart. There are so many devils that we can hardly get to our food caches. The walls are coming down around my ears. Most of my people have stopped caring enough to work hard. Maab would shuffle them around to other tribes to keep them engaged, but I have no other tribe to send them to. Things are getting worse and they only have me to blame. I’m in constant fear that my daughters are going to murder me and give my head as a gift to Maab in order to realign with her. I’ve even invited an Infidel Friend to live under my roof, Galen. Galen, I’m so lost.”
Galen wiped the last of her tears away. “There is a solution, you know.”
What would a man know?
“I didn’t mean to break down on you,” she said. “Everything will be alright. It’s just difficult right now.”
“No,” Galen said. “Calimay, everything will not be alright. Your home’s walls are crumbling. You haven’t adapted to the higher devil population. And worst of all, you’re trying to use the system which Maab uses to rule several hundred tribes when you have but one.”
Is he right? Ahuramazda forgive me. Why am I listening to a man?
“I’m doing the best that can be done.”
“Things have changed, Calimay. The maxims under which you act must change too.”
She felt anger rising in her heart where only love had been previously. “Don’t pretend to know the answers. You have never experienced ruling a people, Galen.”
Galen laughed. “But the words I just said were your words. You told them to the old High Priestess. Don’t you remember? Right before Charlie’s rebellion and the exodus.”
So long ago.
“I remember what that Calimay would have said,” Galen continued. “She would have told you that your slaves have nothing to work for. That they need rewards for working hard.”
I used to think those things.
She shook her head. “Their survival is reward enough. It’s foolish to think a man would work for anything harder than he would for his own life.”
“What does a slave have to live for?”
“His life. A serf is not so bad off that he wishes a worse Hell than his current one.”
“I don’t think that serf is that smart,” Galen said. “Do you? Or more importantly, did you before? It seems to me like this is a patriarchal idea, this punishment and slavery. Just like you’d expect out of an old military. I’d imagine that it was ideas like that which caused you to leave Maab.”
“They were, Galen. But Maab was right about a great many things. I can’t give them rewards they care about without giving them autonomy. There is no margin for error in Hell. What’s to keep them from hurting us with their freedom?”
“The same thing you expect to be their reward. Their own survival. Only when you give them actual rewards, they might really want to survive.”
Calimay sat up, letting the sheets fall away from her chest. New tears fell on her bared breasts. “My priestesses will never accept it. Any autonomy given to the serfs takes away from their power.”
Galen stayed where he was, relaxed. “They’ll be sure that the serfs will become dissident. They’ll be sure that no leader could be strong enough to keep control over such undisciplined males. They’ll think not even Maab could be that powerful. Imagine how afraid of you they’ll be when it works. When all the serfs love you. When the soldiers and serfs adore you for your love and spite your underlings for resisting the changes.”
It might work. It’s the kind of thing I used to think of. Maybe Maab’s style is too masculine still.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, and laid back down into his arms.
These arms which were about to leave her. But why? Why was Galen so interested in what happened in the Carrion? Why did he not simply want to flee to Harpsborough? And how had he gotten the angel’s get out of the hands of the Infidel?
What kind of man am I sleeping next to?
“You’re afraid,” she said aloud. “You’re afraid of what’s happening in the City of Blood and Stone.”
“Of course.”
“It’s not Lucreas, is it? It’s something deeper. Something more horrific. Does it have to do with your son? Why did the Infidel want him anyway? And how the hell did you steal the boy away from the Infidel?”
“Calimay, there are things a man tells a woman, in bed, that he should not say aloud. Things that you can’t tell another soul. Not Maab. Not the Infidel Friend. Not anyone.”
“Tell me! What is the boy for?”
“I fear the Infidel is going to use him to find his mother. Or to get something from his mother.”
Galen turned away, covering himself with one of her silken blankets. The slight breeze this produced helped dry the tears on her chest.
She pulled the blanket back off of him, rolled him over on his stomach and began to massage his shoulders. “That’s possible, but I have another idea, as well.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve got Malkravyan in my court, Galen, so I’ve heard the histories as the Infidel Friend tell it. But they don’t say everything. They pile secrets on secrets, and I think even they can’t untangle it all. But I’ve
got help. You know I used to sleep with Lucreas, too, and he’s very old. Very, very old. He knows the history from the demons’ side.
“They tell a very different story. In some ways both tales are the same. The devils couldn’t conquer the Infidel’s empire until Saint Wretch came along. Saint Wretch became the focus of all the Archdevils the Infidel hadn’t managed to kill yet, and they became a force powerful enough to topple the empire.
“But what the Infidel Friend won’t say is that St. Wretch was once one of their citizens. That half of his army was made up of the Infidel’s own men.” Calimay stopped talking for a moment while she worked on a knot in Galen’s shoulder. She leaned over and used her elbow to massage the tight spot when her fingers began to tire. “There’s something else the Infidel Friend and Lucreas disagree on. Malkravyan says that the Infidel wounded Saint Wretch’s pet Archdevil, and that this somehow threatened Saint Wretch’s invulnerability. The demons claim something else. They say the Infidel found a substance that could actually hurt Saint Wretch. And not just Saint Wretch, but any devil, anywhere. Icanitzu, dark dyitzu, Archdevils . . . a Fury, you name it. They say he made a sword out of it. They say he left it in Sheol.”
Galen interrupted her massage, turning to one side. He looked up at her. “I’m not sure how that has anything to do with Turi.”
“Hear me out.”
“Speak on, milove.”
“So let’s say this is true. If the Infidel left something in Sheol, and he hasn’t gone back to get it, that means he can’t get to Sheol again, for whatever reason.”
Galen nodded. “Well, that reason is the Erebus. Or more importantly, the Furies which guard the Erebus.”
“Right! And if that’s the case, it would almost have to be that sword, because without it, he wouldn’t be able to fight his way across anymore. His only other alternative way into Sheol would be to die, and that’s too risky. Now you know that the Furies will attack anything that tries to cross the River of Darkness.”
“That’s right,” Galen said.
Calimay smiled. “But they might not attack an angel. What if that’s why the Infidel wants your boy? What if it’s because the angel’s get can cross the Erebus?
“Turi’s half human, Calimay. Even if an angel could cross that river, Turi couldn’t. For instance, a Fury won’t attack a normal corpse, but as soon as Minotaur takes control of it, that Fury’s coming. Sometimes they’ll go miles into Gehenna just to kill the Minotaur that dared send their undead that way. And a magic sword? Surely you don’t believe that’s true. Devils have immunities to classes of material. There’s not going to be one class that can hurt every devil.”
“Think of it, Galen! Think of it. With a weapon like that, we could kill the Archdevil who rules Londinium. We could retake the city. Think what it would do to Maab’s priestesses? They’ve been told that Mithras is the one who will conquer Londinium. Think what would happen if we took it? They’d flock to us in droves!”
Galen sat up and kissed her. “I don’t think he can cross the River of Darkness, Calimay.”
“Maybe not, but when you’re scouting, you’re going to see if he can.”
His eyes narrowed. He had a dreadfully stubborn look on his face. “I can’t protect my son from a Fury. I won’t send him there.”
“That wasn’t a request. You do this, or you’ll never make it home.”
He met her gaze.
Who are you, Galen? Where did you come from? How did you steal my heart?
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “If you don’t want to send your son into Sheol, that’s fine. I understand. I won’t force you to do that. I just need to know if he attracts the Furies. If he does, then run from the river. If he doesn’t, just let me know. I’ll have his seed soon. I’ll send his child in to get it if I have to.
Galen nodded his agreement.
“Sing me that song, Galen. The one about the marriage.”
“Another time.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like the way it ends, Calimay.”
“You never sang more than the first verse.”
He nodded.
Tears were coming down her cheeks again. This time she didn’t even bother to try and stop them.
“You really love your boy, don’t you?”
“More than I ever imagined I could love anyone.”
“Stay with me!” she begged. She knew that it was an impossibility, that such a romance could never work, but she didn’t care. “Stay. Don’t go back to Harpsborough. Be my lover. I’ll love only you. I’ll help you raise Turi. We’ll keep him safe from Hell. Safe from Maab. Safe from the Infidel. Safe from Lucreas.”
Oh, Ahuramazda. Malkravyan has seen Turi. He’ll summon the Infidel.
Cold fear took her breath away. “Malkravyan. You’ll have to leave.”
“I will. And so long as Malkravyan thinks I’m not coming back, then I can come back, at least for a short time.”
“I love you. Promise me you’ll return.”
“I love you, too. I’ve missed you very much. I promise you. I promise you that after I’ve gone to the City of Blood and Stone, after I’ve looked across the River of Darkness and onto the Shores of Sheol, after we see if Arturus can cross the Erebus, that I’ll come back to you. No devil, no Fury, no Infidel Friend will stop me. I swear it.”
Her hands shook as she took his face in her hands. She could not help but be her dominant self. She leaned forward and kissed him as tenderly as if she were kissing a young and helpless boy. She pushed him back on his back and put her lips by his ear. “I can’t tell you how much I love you. I can’t describe it. I know you’ll—”
Her door opened. Light poured into her bedroom. One of her Little Ladies had come.
“Queen Calimay,” her slight voice said.
“Why are you here?” Calimay snapped.
“You told me to keep you updated on the angel’s get.”
Oh Mithras. I did.
“Did the boy remain unbroken? And which of my daughters did he choose?”
“He’s unbroken, my Queen. And . . .”
“Which daughter? Little Lady, you had better answer my question.”
“He didn’t exactly choose one, my Queen.”
Calimay glared at Galen. Hadn’t the man given proper instructions to his son?
“That wasn’t an option, he had to—”
“I mean, he did choose one, it’s just that—”
“Well spit it out girl, did he choose one or didn’t he?”
“All of them.”
“What?” Calimay sat up again.
“He slept with all of them.”
Calimay leveled a second glare at Galen. The warrior’s brow furrowed as he pondered this. Then he smiled and gave out a soft grunt.
The hellscape changed dramatically on their way to Tucumcari. The walls and ceilings, previously made of various hues of hellstone, were now a grey substance more akin to hardened pottery than rock. Ellen could see in many places where these had shattered. She wondered if this substance had somehow been retooled, perhaps ground down and mixed with water, for use as the stucco on the outside of the houses in Macon’s Bend.
In many places there were solid rectangular blocks of granite between the sheets of grey pottery stone, evenly spaced and set at the corners as if they were some kind of frame. The ceiling often sagged inwards around those blocks, as if it were possible that the substance was melting ever so slowly.
Ellen was happy with her progress. At times she would use the paddle as a crutch to give her ankle a rest. Usually, however, she was able to simply use it as a walking stick. Her missing toes threw off her balance much worse than she had supposed they would, but the paddle’s constant support kept her from falling.
After what she guessed to be around eight hours of travel, she began to hear the sounds of people echoing in from distant corridors and rooms. Sometimes she could hear them talking. Other times she could hear them chippin
g away at the walls. She checked her pistol to make sure its safety was on. It was.
Here and there she saw where the pottery rock had been quarried, sometimes hundreds of square feet of it, exposing a bedrock of granite below.
A few men, perhaps Tucumcari hunters, would greet them with a wave. They weren’t nearly as talkative as the Harpsborough people, and their skin seemed to be tinged with grey. At first Ellen thought that they must simply have been dirty, but as they passed each new person, she started to second guess that explanation.
“Why are they all so grey?” Ellen asked Rick as they traveled.
“It’s the clay,” Rick said, pointing to the pottery stone. “They grind it down and mix it with water. It forms a paste they consume.”
“It’s safe to eat?” Alice didn’t seem convinced.
Rick shrugged. “Safe, yes. And it does soothe one’s hunger. Still, it doesn’t give you much energy. A good way to get the stilling, if you ask me.”
“Then why do they eat it?” Ellen asked.
“Lady,” Massan said. “I’ve been lost up this way before, and I ate it. I was so hungry, I’d have eaten hellstone if my teeth had been hard enough.”
Ellen shrugged.
It was only a few more minutes before they entered Tucumcari’s chamber. It was bright, so bright that it almost hurt her eyes. The people here all wore light clothes, dirty whites and soft greys, all sewn out of similar sheets of burlap. Many wore the same black sewn together boots as she’d seen in Macon’s Bend. The houses were made of clay bricks, which Ellen figured were almost certainly mined out of the quarries she’d seen earlier. They seemed to be in much better repair than those of either Macon’s Bend or Harpsborough.
Ellen thought she could identify other strangers like herself, people who did not live here, moving through the town. Their skin was less grey, for one, and many weren’t wearing burlap. Children were playing tag in the street. The sight of them almost made her cry.
There was a shop to her left. There was even a charcoal lettered canvas sign above it that read “guns.” A set of woodstone steps led up to it.
“Is it always this nice, here?” Molly asked.
Knight of Gehenna (Hellsong Book 2) Page 23