by J. Thorn
Shane snarled and knocked the pipe from Kin’s hand. “Your soul will be mine, you lecherous scum.” He left the four men as they pierced his back with cold stares.
***
The Serpent King and Shane moved to the front of the regiment behind Harvi and Kin. They wanted an unobstructed view of Risenachen as they broke through the jungle, and the sight did not disappoint. The jungle prostrated itself before the mountains. Above the horizon, craggy peaks cut rigid wounds into the sky. Risenachen sat at the base of the valley, a precious mineral poking through the weathered floor. From their elevation, the men could see the protective wall slithering around the city, its head and tail meeting at a central gate. Ivory towers jutted up from behind the barricade. The size and scope of Risenachen rivaled any metropolis in the Eastern Kingdoms, and dwarfed the coastal village of Concothy.
“Behold, the eye of the People of the Eagle. Our ancestors explored the jungle, and a prophecy foretold of a great capital. The scripture said that the holy ground would reveal itself to us through the sign of the eagle, clutching a serpent in its mouth. As our ancestors came into the valley dying of starvation and exposure, they saw that sign. The bird stood its ground in defiance of the human invaders, and it held a writhing snake in its beak. Generations have lived and perished in this great city,” said Kin.
Shane spat upon the ground. “Your fables mean nothing to me. Let us approach the gate and get on with our business.”
“I would like to hear more of this tale over a pipe and a flask,” said the Serpent King. Shane huffed and started down the slope towards the gate.
The company descended into the valley, reaching its floor as the Sun God fell behind the peaks. Pinpoints of light snapped into existence along the top of the great wall surrounding the city. The ivory towers reflected the dying rays of the Sun God, shimmering like a polished sword. On the floor of the valley, a paved road emerged from the ground, each stone polished and proud, one of millions needed to complete the causeway. The men from the Eastern Kingdom reached down to touch the highway with trembling fingers, seeing that it spanned a great distance to the city.
The Lady of the Night winked at the expedition as she took her place above the mountains in the dusky sky. The moon appeared as a curved blade, red with the blood of its fallen enemies. The heat and humidity of the jungle made it impossible for the party to light torches, but as they marched, they noticed that torches were not necessary. Crushed oyster shells from the Great Sea covered each stone in the highway. Mixed with an adhesive, the shells reflected the meager light of the moon. Darkness crept into the valley and the causeway glowed as a magnificent ribbon of light leading to the gate.
Two guards stood at the entrance as Shane and the Serpent King cleared a path to the front of the gate. Archers perched high above the wall did not escape their attention; if the guards wanted them dead, they would be.
“State your business,” said the one on the right.
The Serpent King smiled and evaluated the sentries. Both men wore pounded metal helmets that came to curved beaks on their foreheads. Their armor gleamed from a recent polish, all the way down to their greaves. Various metals and ribbons adorned their chests, and solid gold formed the hilts of their swords. The People of the Eagle knew the key to their security. Instead of placing young, inexperienced soldiers at the gate, it was garrisoned by their most decorated and fierce warriors.
“I am the Serpent King. I have traversed the Great Sea to seek the council of the coalition. Your compatriots escorted us here from your outpost. I have information for Lord Major Acatel that is critical to the destruction of the People of the Sun.”
The guard replied, “Sir, while we are in a loose confederation with the Dog People, mentioning their leader will not gain you favor with ours. I suggest you not repeat that name until you have received an audience from the council.”
Shane put his hand on his sword and drew it. The Serpent King never took his eyes off the sentry, but raised his arm and placed it over the sheath on Shane’s hip, preventing him from using the weapon.
“I meant no disrespect, sir. You know our business and our intent. Do you plan to open the gates for me and my men?” asked the Serpent King.
The sentry looked at his partner, who remained speechless. He nodded, never releasing his gaze from the distant horizon. “We grant you entrance to Risenachen. We will monitor your movements. Any actions that threaten our infrastructure or our citizens will result in your immediate removal.”
The guard signaled to an unseen operator, and the gate swung inward. A scraping noise pierced the ears of the men in its wake.
“My lord, I will have his head for the disrespect he showed you.”
“There is no need, young bull. He honors his duty. Spilling his blood would have meant the end of us, but I commend your loyalty.”
As the gate opened, Risenachen revealed itself. Motion and sound filled the air. Shane and the Serpent King stood on the threshold of the metropolis as people moved in and out of their field of vision. A cacophony of noise circled their heads. Tendrils of smoke from the marketplace carried the aroma of cooked meats. The Serpent King turned to face his regiment as most of the men stood in awe.
“Your duty has been fulfilled. Should you desire to continue to serve me, we will reconvene in this exact spot when the Sun God rises on the morrow. You are free men in the eyes of the One World.”
Men stirred. Walking as if in a dream, they moved in different directions, the city streets pulling them in like the high tide of the Great Sea.
“We do not need them, my lord?” asked Shane.
“The ones we need will return. Risenachen will seduce the others and keep them from service, regardless of my threats. Let the city eat them alive.”
A merchant with a cart pushed his way through the crowded thoroughfare and bumped into Shane. He drew his sword, but armed officers appeared at his side before he had the time to strike the rude merchant.
“Sheath your weapon. If you draw it again on the streets, it will be confiscated.” Four guards surrounded Shane, each resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The Serpent King broke into a chuckle. “Put it away. There will be plenty of opportunity to thrust in this fair city.”
A guard cracked a smile and erased it from his face. Shane put the sword back into its sheath, and the officers slipped back into the swirling mass of humanity.
“I should have taken them all,” he said.
“To what end? We dance on the threshold of a glorious city. I do not want us revealed for the sake of one rude merchant. Follow me.”
The Serpent King fell into the current and let it take him into the city. Shane followed, dodging the Serpent King’s black cape as it swung with every step. The main thoroughfare faded into an open plaza, and in the middle stood an enormous statue of a rider on horseback in a shallow fountain. Jets of water shot into the air at various intervals. Chiseled stone blocks fit together under their feet, all covered with the same oyster-shell mix as the road to Risenachen. Glowing patches revealed themselves through the legs of the passersby. Ivory towers loomed on all sides of the statue at the edge of the plaza, some reaching three stories into the air. Silhouettes of people danced to the rhythm of the city in the open windows. As far as the men could see, the buildings spread towards the valley.
Shane followed the Serpent King into the plaza, glancing over his shoulder for any sign of the armed officers. Torches threw reflective light off the paved stones. The Sun God retired, yet the city bustled. Merchants sat on their carts, selling wares to people on the street, and men and women moved through the tight spaces with children in tow. Politicians came in and out of a government building to their right.
The Serpent King and Shane of Gisanti circumnavigated the plaza, making a mental note of the dozens of side streets originating from it like spokes on a wagon wheel.
“I think it is time we enjoyed some of the finer pleasures Risenachen has to offer. We will bri
ng our official business to the leaders of the People of the Eagle at first light.”
Shane followed his lord without word. They stopped in front of a two-story house. Each window held the figure of a young woman selling her wares in the heart of the city.
Chapter 28
Sianta left the remains of her smoldering village. Gathering what few supplies she was able to salvage, she followed the tracks of the invaders. Her mother’s voice rang in her head. If she were to get to the lord major of the Jaguar Knights before the army of the Dog People, she would need to cross some rough terrain. The forest beyond the Great Waste sloped down towards the heart of the Empire. If she broke from this path two leagues from the city, she might be able to beat them there. Sianta would have to cut south and traverse a mountain pass, but this would spare her at least two days of travel.
She trekked through the alien forest, her back slumped and her head down, weeping as she checked her traps. The snare she set had snagged a rabbit, providing her with decent foot coverings. In the remains of the village, she found some clothing, and she cleaned the blood off a dagger, sticking it inside her rawhide belt.
The first nights in the woods proved to be difficult. She did not sleep, even while clutching her weapon. Sianta scavenged from the remains of the camp, using burning embers from their fires to light hers. She made sure not to outpace the regiment until she broke from their trail and headed south.
***
Acatel had watched his messenger leave camp on the back of a great steed, having been instructed to stop at no costs. Coalition forces would be gathering soon, and Acatel needed to cement his position as their leader. The message he sent to the commanding officer of the lord major of the People of the Eagle laid claim to the capital of the People of the Sun, and invited the rest of the coalition to follow him. He ended the communication by urging the lord major to throw off the shackles of the oppressor and defend his ancestors, although he knew the lord major did not need motivation to fight.
“My lord, our scouts have interesting news to report,” said the commander.
Acatel exhaled blue smoke over the fire. He did not remove his eyes from the Star of the North. “Now? Is it crucial?” The commander sensed the lord major’s anger and began to stutter a response, but Acatel cut him off. “Stop your blabbering and speak to me.”
“Sir, the scouts believe someone follows us.”
“Of course, every tribe abused by the People of the Sun.”
“Yes, that is true, sir, but they report that a single person tracks our movements.”
“What evidence do the scouts have for this?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Send them to me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Acatel continued to smoke his pipe while thinking about the possibilities presented. Two of his best scouts appeared before him, bowing their heads out of respect to his rank.
“Tell me of our follower.”
One guard spoke. “We’ve circled back a number of times since we left the last village. There is evidence that someone follows our trail.”
“Could it have been a survivor from the village?”
“We did not leave any, sir.”
“Well, someone tracks us, right?”
“That appears to be true, sir.”
“Do you have any sightings or descriptions of this person?”
“No, sir, we do not.”
“Then get me some.”
The scouts ran deep into the night. Acatel heard the whine of the horses and the thundering of hooves through the camp. A tinge of apprehension found its way into his thoughts.
***
Sianta thought she heard thunder in the distance, but looked up at a clear night sky. She realized that the rumble was caused by four-legged beasts, and she jumped up from the ground, kicking dirt and debris on the fire in an attempt to strangle it. Smoke billowed up, defeating her efforts at concealment. She ran from the remains of the soldiers’ camp and hid behind a tree, prepared to flee. The pounding of the horses’ hooves grew louder until she saw the flame of their torches flickering though the trees.
***
“There. That fire still smokes.”
The two scouts dismounted and crept through the remains of the camp.
“I sense a presence,” said the lead rider.
“Could it be the girl?” the other asked.
“If she lives, it will be her head or ours. Acatel will spare no mercy in our torture if he discovers that we lied about her escape.”
***
Sianta heard voices but could not understand the conversation. She shifted her body position in order to draw the dagger from her belt. She did not have combat experience, but she had the element of surprise on her side. At first, the men searched the other side of the camp, but she knew they would come in her direction.
“Mother, help guide me,” she said to the tree.
***
“I spotted movement on the other side of the camp. Do not look in that direction. We will make it appear as though we are leaving and then double back behind her. Are you clear on that?”
“Yes.”
The two scouts walked toward their mounts. With deliberate motions and exaggerated speech, they climbed the horses and trotted off towards the trail.
Sianta remained still. She tried to ignore the sound of the blood roaring through her veins and closed her eyes, hoping that her pursuers would disappear. Panic seized her and she ran towards the remains of her village. She did not see the gnarled root at her foot as it grabbed her ankle and sent her tumbling to the ground. When she looked up, four eyes staring down at her.
“You cannot reach the Rokin from here, you little bitch.”
Something struck her head and darkness followed.
***
The first rays of the Sun God pierced Sianta’s eyes. She tasted bitter copper on her dry tongue. Blood trickled down her cheek and her head exploded with pain. She heard the crackle of dying embers, and saw the two scouts still asleep in their bedrolls. She thought it odd that they had not risen with the Sun God.
“I’m thirsty,” she said.
No answer.
“Hey, I’m thirsty,” she repeated, this time louder.
Still no answer.
As the cloud lifted from her eyesight, she noticed two dark pools underneath the men. Sianta lifted her hands as the rope that bound them fell to the ground. She stood up and vomited, then wiped her mouth and staggered towards the men. She stopped, staring into their dead faces and open necks. She saw no sign of struggle and had heard nothing in the night. Sianta knew she had very little time before a larger and more determined scouting force came looking for these two, and then her.
Chapter 29
The Serpent King and Shane of Gisanti awoke amongst the smell of women, alcohol, and coin. Shane pushed a leg off his chest and an arm from his head. He saw the Serpent King sitting upright in a chair in the corner of the room. Moans left the lips of the prostitutes they had purchased the night before. He stepped off the platform of pillows and flesh to search for his clothes.
“I do not remember much, and I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said.
“Gather your things. It begins today,” said the Serpent King.
A booming knock on the wooden door startled both men. Naked and with sword in hand, Shane moved towards it.
“Yes,” he said, gripping the hilt with white knuckles.
“We have a message to deliver to the Serpent King,” replied the voice from behind the door.
“Deliver it,” said the Serpent King, standing behind Shane.
“Tepan, Lord Major of the People of the Eagle and loyal charter member of the coalition, requests your presence at the meeting of the council. It will be held in the Great Hall when the Sun God reaches his zenith.”
“The Serpent King accepts the invitation and will attend the council with honor.”
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and dissipated.
Four of the six women stirred. Two decided to continue the festive orgy of the night before, and when Shane looked at them they beckoned him to join.
“We must go to the gate and claim any sailors that have decided to remain loyal to me,” said the Serpent King.
Shane licked his lips and pulled himself into his garb, shutting the door on the tangle of sweaty lust pulsing in the room.
***
They maneuvered through the bustling thoroughfares of the city. Merchants, politicians, and businessmen raced from one building to another as street urchins hassled citizens for alms in hopes of spending them at a tavern. The city exhaled the southerly wind, bringing the aromas of the marketplace to life. Risenachen’s heart pulsed like a living organism. When Shane and the Serpent King arrived at the gate, one lone man stood at attention.
“What is your name, sailor?” the Serpent King asked.
“Lellan, my lord. I report to duty and prostrate myself before you.”
“Are you the only sailor left from the Eastern Kingdoms to pledge allegiance to the Serpent King?”
“Yes, my lord. The other has gone beyond the Region of the Dead. A dispute at a card table left his head in his lap.”
“The captured sailors?”
“Most of them fled into the gutters of the city. It will be many moons before they pull themselves out of their drunken stupors.”
“Very well, Lellan. Come. We must nourish ourselves before the council of the coalition meets.”
The three men bartered with the local farmers in an open market, and devoured fruits and vegetables never seen in the Eastern Kingdoms. The card table had been very good to Shane and the Serpent King, and the prostitutes had not stolen all of the coin they hid prior to their engagement. Shane stopped two people on the streets and asked for directions to the Great Hall. They arrived at the entrance at the same time as the other lord majors, tribal leaders, and dignitaries.