Infidel

by Ted Dekker

  But it was all moot. Unless he found water to drink in the next few hours, he would be dead by day’s end. The sand felt better underfoot, but his cracked lips stung at the touch of his tongue.

  He’d evidently discarded his boots somewhere back along the way, and which way that was, he had no idea. His armor and tunic, as well. He’d stumbled on for hours, nearly naked, as his flesh slowly grayed and cracked.

  But looking at it today, his skin didn’t look as bad as he’d been led to believe in his hallucinatory state yesterday. Who said smooth was better than scaly, anyway? Even the smell seemed more tolerable.

  Thomas gazed about and finally decided that he was still in or near Red Valley. He’d likely walked the dunes in a great circle, for all he knew.

  Honestly, he felt rather stupid. But surely the Horde weren’t this dim-witted all the time. Maybe only during the transformation from Forest Dweller to Scab.

  Thomas began to plod on, then stopped, wondering where he should go. Did he have the strength to actually go anywhere? No, not really. So he eased himself down on the sand and sat staring dumbly into the rising sun.

  An hour or maybe two hours later, he fell backward, covered his eyes with his arms, and tried to die.

  They found him about an hour after that.

  “You there!”

  His mind was playing tricks on him, speaking like Horde.

  “You there!”

  Thomas lifted his arm off his face and squinted in the sun. Two Horde sat on pale horses, staring down at him. One tossed him a robe that landed on his scaly chest.

  “Put on some clothes.”

  “Why?” he croaked.

  “Because you’re naked. There’s a woman in this group.”

  “Oh.” He struggled to his feet and shrugged the long cloak on, lifting the hood to cover his head. They thought he was Horde.

  Was he?

  “Drink,” one of them said, shoving a flask at him.

  The water inside smelled brown. “Spit water,” they called it in the forests. But today spit water went down surprisingly smoothly. He drank half the flask before the Scab pulled it away.

  Almost immediately his head began to clear some.

  Was he really Horde?

  “She wants to talk to you,” one of the men said. They led him to a small caravan with roughly twenty horses. The woman who came out to talk to him was dressed in a white tunic unlike any he’d seen, certainly nothing worn on the battlefield. She moved like swaying wheat.

  Her eyes studied him from head to foot.

  “Why do you wear your hair like this?” she asked. True, he didn’t have the dreadlocks so typical among Horde. Long wavy hair dirtied by the desert, but no locks.

  “Does every man need to be cut from the same mold?” he asked.

  The answer seemed to amuse her. “Are you married?”

  Thomas stood there, scalp burning under the hood, and stared at the desert dweller, taken aback by her question. If he said yes, she might ask who his wife was, which could cause problems.

  “No.”

  She stepped up to him and searched his face. Her eyes were a dull gray, nearly white. Her cheeks were ashen.

  She drew her hood back and exposed bleached hair. In that moment Thomas knew that this woman was propositioning him.

  But more, he knew that she was beautiful. He wasn’t sure if the sun had gotten to him or if the disease was eating his mind, but he found her attractive. Fascinating, at the very least. And no odor. In fact, he was sure that if he were somehow miraculously changed back into the Thomas with clear skin and green eyes, she would think his skin stank.

  The sudden attraction caught him wholly off guard. Until this moment he’d never considered what a male Scab’s attraction to a female Scab felt like.

  The woman reached a hand to his cheek and touched it. “I am Chelise.”

  He was immobilized with indecision.

  “I am … Roland.”

  “Would you like to come with me, Roland?”

  “I would, yes. But I first must complete my mission, and for that I need a horse.”

  “Is that so? What is your mission?” She smiled seductively. “Are you a fierce warrior off to assassinate the murderer of men with all the other thugs?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am an assassin.” He thought it might earn him respect, but she acted as if meeting assassins in the desert was a common thing. Unless she was referring to the search for him that was underway at this very moment.

  “Who is this murderer of men?” he asked.

  Her eyes darkened, and he knew that he’d asked the wrong question.

  “If you’re an assassin, you would know, wouldn’t you? There’s only one man any assassin has taken an oath to kill.”

  “Yes, of course, but do you really know the business of an assassin?” he said, mentally scrambling for a way out. “If you are so eager to bear my children, perhaps you should know with whom you would make your home. So tell me, whom have we assassins sworn to kill?”

  He could tell immediately that she lilted his answer.

  “Thomas Hunter,” she said. “He is the murderer of men and women and children, and he is the one that my father, the great Qurong, has commanded his assassins to kill.”

  The daughter of Qurong! He was speaking to desert royalty. He dipped his head in a show of submission.

  She laughed. “You don’t need to bow to me.”

  The way her eyes had darkened when she spoke his name alarmed Thomas. He knew he was hated by the Horde, but to hear it coming from the lips of such a stunning enemy was unnerving.

  “Come with me, Roland,” Chelise said. “I’ll give you more to do than run around making hopeless assassination attempts. Everyone knows that Thomas is fir too swift with his sword to yield to this senseless strategy of my father’s. Martyn, our bright new general, will have a place for you.”

  Martyn. He’d never heard the name. This was Justin, the traitor. Or a defector at the very least. Their new enemy had a name, and it was Martyn.

  “I beg to differ,” he said, “but I’m the one assassin who can find the murderer of men and kill him at will.”

  “Is that so? You’re that intelligent, are you? And are you bright enough to read what no man can read?”

  She was mocking him by suggesting that he couldn’t read?

  “Of course I can read.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “The Books of History?”

  Thomas blinked at the reference. She was speaking about the ancient books? How was that possible?

  “You have them?” he asked.

  Chelise turned away. “No. But I’ve seen a few in my time. It would take a wise man to read that gibberish.”

  “Give me a horse. Let me finish my mission; then I will return,” he said.

  “Can you teach me to read the Books of History?” she asked directly.

  “Will you give me a horse if I say no?”

  “I’ll give you a horse,” she said, replacing her hood. “But don’t bother returning to me. If killing another man is more important to you than serving a princess, I’ve misjudged you.”

  She ordered a man nearby to give him a horse and then walked away.

  Thomas mounted stiffly, took a full canteen and a sword from one of Chelise’s guards, and rode toward the sun.

  Not until he was out of sight did he stop to realize his incredible fortune. He was going to live, he knew. He still had to reach the forest and bathe in the lake without being killed by his own Guard, but he was confident he could accomplish that much.

  Then again, did he really want to return to the forests? Why not turn west and find the Horde city? Or return to Chelise and let her guide him to the city where a million others had embraced the disease on his skin?

  Then he thought of Rachelle and the prophecy and the Forest Guard and the war with those who would slaughter his family.

  Thomas took another long pull of the spit water, turned the horse to the north, and rod
e for the Middle Forest.

  he sun was setting over the western dunes, and still Silvie couldn’t make up her mind. She and Rosa sweltered in the hot sun overlooking the city through the day, discussing a hundred options, but each was riddled with impossibilities. Given the slightest hope for success, she would throw herself at whatever obstacles stood between her and Johnis.

  But there was no such hope.

  “Then let’s just go in,” Rosa said, standing. “The darkness will cover us, and we’ll have a chance. If we don’t try tonight, the disease will get us!”

  But Rosa didn’t know about the Shataiki. True, Witch would be waiting for some kind of rescue attempt and would surely catch them. True, the temple was surely locked up like a chest, prohibiting any entry by one and a half fighters—Rosa was only half in her weakened condition.

  But truer than either of these were the Shataiki bats who’d descended into the city and not emerged.

  “If we die, then he’ll die in vain,” Silvie said.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” Rosa snapped. “That’s my son down there!”

  “And that’s the man I love!” She continued quickly to cover her frank admission. “But we can’t rush into death blindly!”

  Rosa suddenly reached for her arm, eyes fixed on the boulders below them. “Someone’s there!”

  Silvie dropped to her knees and spun. Four horses stood behind the boulders that had hid them when they’d first found the city, two with riders, two tied behind. Guard horses.

  Even in the dimming light she recognized the two riders. “Billos and Darsal!” she cried. “They’ve … they’ve found out!”

  “Guard?” Rosa ran for her horse. “Then we have a chance!”

  Silvie stared at the two fighters, then at the city. Her heart soared for an instant. Then settled. No, we still don’t have a chance, she thought. Two or four, it hardly matters. They might kill more of the beasts, last a little longer in a full-on fight, but they would never be able to break into the temple and take Johnis out with Witch expecting them, much less the Shataiki.

  She whirled back and tore after Rosa.

  “WHAT I‘M SAYING IS THAT WE HAVE TO STOP AND THINK!” Silvie cried.

  Billos paced the sand behind the rocks, gearing up for battle. She’d never seen him so eager for a fight. Darsal still sat on her horse, eyeing both of them and deep in thought.

  “But you said the books are there, right?” Billos said. “In the city. Probably in that temple.”

  “It’s Johnis we’re after,” Silvie said, “not the books.”

  “Johnis, of course. But it’s the books that confirm we should go after him. There’s a power in those books, Silvie. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it!”

  What Billos said was true. She hadn’t thought too much about the dark vision they’d all shared when touching the Books of History with blood. Billos seemed obsessed with the books. Or was she misreading him?

  They’d approached the rocks carefully, calling in when they were close. Billos and Darsal had embraced them with relief and listened while Silvie hurriedly told them what had happened with as much detail as she could cram into mere minutes.

  “How did you find us?” she asked Darsal.

  “Johnis’s sister, Kiella, found Billos yesterday morning, and she said she’d seen him and that Rosa was alive—a Scab, but alive. We knew then that Johnis had gone after the Horde city and was in trouble.”

  “But how did you find us?”

  “Michal, the Roush. He tried to warn us off, something about Johnis learning the truth of the Horde. We’ve been worried sick, you know?” Darsal said. “We had a vow, and the two of you disappeared on us. Billos has been frantic! And you took the books, and now it turns out you not only took them but lost them to the Horde.”

  “Don’t you see, Silvie?” Billos said. “It’s not just Johnis who’s chosen, but all four of us. He said so himself. We have to go in, just like he went to the Black Forest. We’re sworn to recover the books.”

  “What books?” Rosa demanded. “What’s all this about books? It’s my son we’re after!”

  They all looked at her, then exchanged furtive glances. They’d already said too much in her presence.

  Silvie covered for them. “The library in the temple is full of books, which the Horde seem obsessed with. If we could take them, it might give us an advantage over them. But no one can know this. And you’re right: if we go in, it’s for Johnis only.”

  Rosa looked at Billos. “You said there was a power in the books. What is that?”

  “That’s the power to manipulate, because the Horde is so taken by them,” Billos said. “Of course, it’s all about Johnis, but ifwchad the books, we might even be able to exchange them for Johnis. You don’t think that’s power?”

  She seemed satisfied by his convoluted explanation.

  Billos took a step closer to Silvie, pressing his point. “We entered hell and lived; I say we enter it again and bring our boy out!”

  His enthusiasm was infectious. “If we had fire—”

  “We do!” he cried, rushing for his saddlebag. He pulled out the fire sticks and held them up. “You think I’m a fool?” He grinned.

  Now this was the Billos she knew, screaming for a fight when he wanted one, and he most certainly wanted this one.

  Silvie looked at the Horde city. “You can’t burn the city; it’s made of mud. Besides, Johnis would likely have a fit.”

  “What does he care, as long as we get him out?”

  She hadn’t told them about the Horde girl, Karas, only that Johnis had been trapped after setting them free.

  “He’s taken a liking to the Horde,” she said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Billos snapped.

  “You can’t burn the city anyway. But the temple has enough books in it to make a nice bonfire.”

  “Books?” Billos said, lowering his sticks. “They’ll burn?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then we can’t burn the temple,” Darsal said. “We’ll have to burn something else to get at the Shataiki.”

  “Carts,” Silvie said. “They have thousands of carts made of wood and straw. And I know where there are enough to put a sun in the middle of this city.”

  “That’s it!” Billos jumped into his saddle. “It’ll work.”

  “Then let’s go,” Rosa said. She and Silvie had already taken a spit bath in some of the extra lake water Darsal had brought. “Leave the rest of the water hete; we can’t risk losing it.”

  Darsal considered the suggestion, then nodded.

  “Hold up. Going now is suicide,” Silvie said. “They’re waiting for us. Johnis is their bait, dead or alive. Fire might protect us for a while, but I’m telling you, there’s no way out of the temple. We have to think this through carefully.”

  Darsal lifted a hand. “She’s right. Slow down, Billos, or you’ll get us all killed. We wait till the city’s asleep before we go, but then we do go with our best plan.”

  “It’s our vow,” Billos said.

  Silvie dipped her head. Honestly, she could hardly stand to wait another four hours till midnight, but she could stand the thought of losing Johnis even less.

  “Agreed.”

  ilvie stopped at the corner of a mud house to still her breathing. Crickets sang in the night; a light breeze carried the Horde stench west and rustled the thatch here and there. Many of the houses had dogs, but they seemed adequately fooled by the smelly cloaks.

  The plan was a compilation of ideas Silvie had painstakingly rehearsed during the day and innovations Billos and Darsal had thrown in the mix. They would secure four cloaks with hoods—it was the only way to remain under cover even in the darkest hour.

  Silvie and Billos had gone in for the cloaks and found them in two different stables on the city’s outskirts. So far, so good.

  Horses were out of the question. It was one thing to drive up the middle of the city unexpected, but this mission had to be executed with
stealth. Their objective was the temple, and studying the city from her high vantage, Silvie had identified several primary streets that angled toward the city center. She and Rosa would go down one. Billos another. Darsal the third. Each was visible from the dunes above Thrall by the light of a thousand burning torches along the way.

  How each managed to reach the temple was his or her own business, but they would meet at the stables behind the tall structure, knowing well that a hundred Shataiki eyes were likely looking for a sign of rescue. “Stay away from the main road,” Silvie warned, “They’ll have it watched for sure.”

  Getting to the temple was a task Silvie thought they could manage. The plan to get into the temple took a turn to the side of shaky. The plan to get out of the temple was hardly better than throwing a dozen ideas into the air and deciding to use the one that touched the ground first.

  Still, so far, so good.

  She felt Rosa breathing at her elbow. “We have to hurry.”

  Silvie lifted a hand. She’d tried to convince Rosa to wait behind at the boulders, but Johnis’s mother would have none of it. She’d recovered most of the spunk that had gotten her taken the first time, particularly now with water at hand.

  She pointed to the temple spire rising into the night sky. “The stables are on the far side,” she whispered. “Stay close to the buildings.”

  They had come into the city from the west after an hour’s hike around rhe outskirts. Billos was coming from the north near the main route, and Darsal from the east. They figured it would take them about three hours each to find the city center.

  Silvie slid down the alley between two pale mortar buildings, whether warehouses or residences she could hardly tell—all the buildings were the same basic rectangular shape. Then they were at the back of the stables without having raised a single alarm. What’s more, Billos and Darsal were waiting.

  “Don’t spook the horses,” Silvie warned.

  Darsal indicated a long row of carts along one wall. “These are all of them?”

  “There are more on the other side. Quickly, exactly as planned.”