by J. Thorn
“Watch where you’re going, ass,” said Shane.
“Excuse me?”
“You spilled our drinks. Buy us another.”
“You must be out of your mind, stranger.” The man’s rancid breath smacked Shane in the face.
“Do it.”
The man stopped walking and faced Shane, who got up from the table. The Serpent King sighed and drained his mug. He walked towards the bartender.
Shane jumped at the drunkard and grabbed him by the throat. He punched him several times in the nose and jaw, fists flashing like lightning in the dark pub. The man fell backwards onto a table, shattering it with a crack. He started to sit up when Shane sat on his chest, continuing to pummel the man. Blood shot in splatters from the man’s face and oozed down the sides of Shane’s arms. After a dozen strikes, the man passed out. Shane reached into his cloak and drew a dagger. He took aim at the chest and raised his blade to strike when a slender, powerful hand grasped his wrist.
“His face is a bloody mess. Let him live with the scars the rest of his life.”
Shane lost feeling in his arm and could not break the grip. He turned his head and gazed into the face of a woman. She wore a black robe and a hood, which she pulled back with one hand. Brilliant green eyes glowed in her ivory face. Long hair, like a black ribbon of the night sky, fell across her shoulders, and her breasts heaved as she pulled the robe to cover her cleavage. For Shane of Gisanti, time stood still.
The Serpent King appeared at the table, a single strand of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. Behind the woman stood another wearing the same black robe, the hood covering her face. Shane dropped the dagger to the floor. It made a clinking sound as it rattled on the ancient floorboards. Two patrons grabbed the injured man by his shoulders and dragged him out of the pub, followed by a trail of blood.
“I am Rihclupe, Sorceress of the Wind. This is Gishwan, from the village of the protectorate. We heard that the leader of the coalition patronizes this establishment. We wish to offer our services to the revolution.”
“Sit and enjoy a drink with us?” the Serpent King asked.
He could not take his eyes off Ri. The women sat at the table, and barmaids wiped the blood and ale from the floor as the rest of the patrons returned to their vice. The show had ended, and they would need to wait for the next round of brutal entertainment. Ri and Gishwan dropped their hoods. The Serpent King and Shane sat speechless, looking from one woman to the other.
“Have you traveled far?” the Serpent King asked them, as if he were expecting guests in the moldy old pub.
“We have come many leagues from the coastal area of the Great Sea, far to the south of Risenachen. The People of the Sun abused our ancestors and we wish to pledge ourselves to the new One World.”
“And you?” asked the Serpent King, glancing at Gishwan.
“I am Ri’s friend and pupil.”
“Pupil? What do you study?”
Ri shot an icy glance at Gishwan. She placed a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt at recapturing spoken words.
“The way of life,” she replied.
A group of women sauntered through the pub, attempting to sell their services to the smelly, drunken louts perched on rickety bar stools. It was not the first time the women had demonstrated their abilities. Shane watched the tired and worn women sleepwalk amongst the men, whispering passionate lies and promises through broken teeth and shattered voices. He shuddered and turned his attention back to the two goddesses at their table.
“Will you be hiring any of them?” asked Ri.
Shane stumbled upon his words. The best he could do was to respond with a nervous cackle.
“It would be difficult to turn our back on your charm in favor of those filthy whores,” said the Serpent King.
Both women grinned, keeping a loose hold on the evil within. Two mugs arrived at the table courtesy of the bald, overweight bartender, whose one eye could not decide which of the two sirens deserved its attention. The band struck up the next song, convinced that another brawl would not destroy their instruments. The bartender placed the drinks in front of Ri and Gishwan, feet planted on the floor.
“Is there something else?” asked the Serpent King.
The question shook the bartender from his trance. He wiped the surface of the table with a wet, tattered cloth and walked to the bar in silence.
“The flat, stale ale delivers a potent buzz,” said Shane. He struggled to get every word out of his mouth.
“Thank you for the drink. I hope there is some way we can repay you for the gift,” said Ri.
She threw a quick glance at the Serpent King that coaxed a smile from Gishwan. Ri laughed as she threw back her mug, emptying it in one chug. Gishwan took a swig and shook her head.
“My dear friend Gishwan experiences the delights of the One World for the first time. Please excuse her naïveté.”
Shane was fixated on Gishwan’s lips. He watched her tongue move across her mouth, licking at the dribbles of ale falling from her chin. He paid no mind to the other patrons, the prostitutes, or the musicians’ sloppy songs.
“Tell us about the coalition,” said Gishwan, snapping back into the moment.
“You seem to know what we all know. Tribes gather in Risenachen to march on the People of the Sun. It will be a War to the Knife, no quarter requested and none given. We will not stop short of total destruction of those lecherous thieves. The council that reports to the lord major of the People of the Eagle asked us to sit with them.”
“That is common knowledge. Rumors circulating throughout the city claim that you came across the Great Sea on a floating village. What is your stake in this conflict?” asked Ri.
“We ask for nothing more than our share of the spoils.”
“So this is a raid for you?”
“Yes, but it is also a chance to engage an enemy of a friend. We want to free the One World from the tyrannical rule of the People of the Sun.”
“But haven’t they already done so with the proclamation?”
The Serpent King knew that Ri was baiting him, playing games with his words. He winked at Shane and nudged his elbow. “The Proclamation was just the beginning,” he said.
A brief silence settled over the table as the four figures turned to face the musicians in the corner. The leader of the troupe told a story about the next song and finished the setup by dedicating it to the members of the coalition council, nodding towards the table. The citizens of Risenachen were not skilled at keeping information private.
“I have never heard music played this way,” said Gishwan.
“Risenachen has much to offer a young woman exploring the One World,” replied the Serpent King. “This is an ancient city founded by the eagle that clutched the serpent. It hides eons of culture and history.”
“Sir, I have been searching for you,” said Lellan, stumbling into the pub.
He swayed from side to side, not even noticing the two mysterious guests at the table. The smell of cheap ale sat on his shoulders like a cloud of filth. The Serpent King flipped Lellan a cold coin.
“Get yourself a room upstairs before you collapse.”
Lellan dropped the coin on the floor. He got on his knees to look for it under the table. On his way up, he glanced at a pair of exquisite ankles and froze as his eyes rose up from the ankles to a pair of knees. The woman sitting at the table sensed his gaze and parted her legs. Lellan’s eyes continued and stopped at her naked crotch. She reached down, revealing a moist, glistening flower. Her two fingers drew passionate nectar. Lellan’s head slammed the underside of the table as the Serpent King yanked him up by his neck. Lellan managed to shake off the blow, coin in hand.
“I, eh—I’m going to get a room,” he said.
Ri’s eyes met Lellan’s as he stood at the table. She flashed a wink at him as she raised her mug to take a drink. Shane stood and kicked Lellan’s rear end, pushing him in the direction of the stairs that led to the inn above. Gishwan giggled
as the drunken sailor from the Eastern Kingdom followed his erection to the stairs.
“I must apologize for him. The battlefield needs men of his kind, but they lack manners,” said the Serpent King.
Shane stood up. “Excuse me, my lord and my mistresses. I must find the privy.” He bowed and left out the back of the establishment.
“He is a handsome young man,” said Gishwan. Ri and the Serpent King exchanged knowing glances.
“Yes, and he is a fine warrior as well,” said the Serpent King.
The three sat and listened to the band perform another song. Shane returned to his seat next to Gishwan. She moved a bit closer, bringing a slight flush of red to his face. The Serpent King spoke again.
“What are two women going to do for the coalition? What do you think you can contribute?”
“That is not the question you wish to ask,” replied Ri.
The Serpent King sat back in his chair and prepared for another round of verbal jousting. “You know which questions I keep hidden in my mind?”
“Your eyes betray your mind,” said Ri.
“Is your mug empty?”
“We bring powers unseen, forces hidden, much like you, my lord.”
The Serpent King shifted with the use of that term. “Are you suggesting an alliance of sorts?”
“I am suggesting that Gishwan and I aid you in your goal. We can help in many ways.”
“How?” the Serpent King asked with a smirk.
“Don’t play with me. I know your intentions stretch far beyond the ruse of supporting the coalition.”
“Keep your voice down. What is your take?” asked the Serpent King.
Ri finished the drink in her mug before she replied. “We shall be your queens, sitting atop the throne of destruction, serving our lords in whatever manner suits them.” Ri’s piercing eyes said more than the words from her mouth.
“Get a room here and stay in it,” said the Serpent King. “We cannot continue this conversation within range of listening ears. Enjoy the carnal pleasures of Risenachen, but do not engage any other with this type of talk or it could cost you your head. When the time is right, we will come for you.”
Ri stood. Her cloak parted. For a brief moment, Shane and the Serpent King feasted upon her naked breasts with their eyes. In one motion, Ri brought her hand back to clamp the robe shut. Gishwan stood and placed her hand in Ri’s, leaning over and whispering into her ear. A smile of delight spread across Ri’s face.
“Gentlemen, we thank you for the libations and look forward to sharing time with you again. Gishwan is in need of my services and so we must bid you farewell.” Ri’s free hand pushed a lock of Gishwan’s hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “We shall wait for your summons.”
The women took each other’s hands and walked to the bartender. A brief exchange took place as he placed a key in Ri’s palm, and she climbed the steps towards the rooms of the inn with Gishwan following behind. Their scent lingered at the table as both men inhaled.
“Sir, the sirens are delectable, and I cannot wait to taste their fruits, but how are they going to assist us?”
“Shane of Gisanti, the dark forces work at this very moment, spinning deceit beyond your comprehension. When the final battle rages and we stand victorious over our vanquished enemies, you will understand the power of those two demons.”
Chapter 33
Tepan sat at a table with layers of maps spread out like the fallen leaves of autumn. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, drumming the fingers of his other on the worn wooden surface. Gathering disparate tribes and uniting them in the coalition would be no easy task. Old allegiances and disputes did not vanish with the proclamation. Before he could get too lost in thought, two generals entered the room. Tepan could tell from their eyes that they brought troubling news.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
“What?” he replied.
“We have lost contact with several of our outposts in the coastal region.”
“The area where the Serpent King made landfall?”
“Yes, sir. Three outposts near the Great Sea, including the one that sent his escort into Risenachen.”
“Have you sent an expeditionary force to secure them?”
“No, sir, not without your command. We have attempted numerous methods of communication, all unsuccessful.”
Worry lines deep in the lord major’s face creased and flexed in the candle light. “Dispatch a unit this very moment. Equip them with our fastest horses. Instruct them to remain in the saddle until they send a report. I do not want an engagement of any kind.”
“Yes, my lord,” replied the soldiers.
***
“No activity,” said the expedition commander to his lieutenant.
“Can you see movement?” the lieutenant asked.
“Nothing but the flying flesh-eaters circling the fortress.”
Both men dismounted, disobeying direct orders. During the monotonous ride, the edges of the saddles had bitten into the flesh of their legs. The men pulled their horses behind them.
As the two men stumbled down the crude path to the fortress gate, everything appeared normal. However, no sentries stood guard and the archers that watched the entrance had disappeared.
The Sun God threw his last rays of light into the purple sky, and the men grabbed two torches from their packs and lit them. The commander led his lieutenant to the gate. They stopped and noticed that light came through, exposing the dancing particles of dust floating in the air. The commander pushed the gate open and stood facing the interior of the fort. Weapons, armor, and shields littered the courtyard. Men had left the items where they fell, and not a single fire burned in the camp. The cry of the crow greeted the two soldiers until silence coated the desolate outpost. The commander moved towards the private dwelling in the corner of the courtyard, which housed the fort commander. They stood in front of the door and heard muffled breathing, and drew their swords in preparation for the unknown.
“Stop. Do not enter here,” said the fort commander, his words gurgling through a wet throat.
The two men looked around the room. Before the visual could register in their minds, the odor of rotting flesh penetrated their nostrils. They pulled their tunics to their mouths in an attempt to ward off the smell. The commander of the fortress lay on his cot. Disease shook his entire body and a wool blanket covered him to the neck. The room had gathered stifling heat throughout the day and trapped it, and the lieutenant swayed and grabbed the edge of a cot, fighting through the wet heat of the room.
“What is happening here?” the expedition commander replied.
“The Serpent King. He brought this.” The fort commander wheezed and choked.
“Brought what?” asked the expedition commander.
“The seeds of our destruction.”
A final gasp of hot breath escaped the mouth of the fort commander, sending him beyond the Region of the Dead.
“What should we do with him?” asked the lieutenant, without taking his eyes off the corpse.
“No one but the gods can do anything for him now. Let’s go to the well, clean up, and explore the rest of the fort.”
“We’ve already strayed from our orders. Maybe it would be best if we returned to Risenachen.”
The commander struck the lieutenant on the side of the head with the back of his hand. “Our report will state the manner in which we followed orders. We speak of none of this to anyone, understand?”
The lieutenant could feel the threat in the commander’s tone and nodded in subservience.
They left the room and felt the surge of clean, unspoiled air. A well stood near the center of the fort, and the commander dropped the bucket inside. It fell for a few moments before hitting the water. Hand over hand, he drew the bucket to the surface. They splashed cold water on their faces, and the lieutenant raised three more buckets, which they used to clean hair, beards, and armor.
With their backs to the well and the
ir armor spread around them, the commander took a leather bag from his tunic and packed a pipe. The two men shared the smoke, the herb calming their nerves and helping to mask the taste of the tainted room. The Sun God disappeared, leaving the courtyard of the fort in total darkness, and the Lady of the Light hid behind sprawling grey clouds that attempted to outrun the rising of the moon.
“What next?” asked the lieutenant.
“Another pipe, then I’m not sure. We must search more of the fort before we return to Risenachen. Of the dozens of men stationed here, we have found one.”
“What if they fled from the fort?”
“Do you think he alone contracted that—sickness, that infection?”
“No, I don’t.”
“We should wait until the light of the Sun God escorts us through the rest of the fort. Once we’ve investigated here, I’d like to ride to the next outpost.”
“What could it be?”
“It could be a curse of some kind. He said that the Serpent King brought this. Why would he poison those he wishes to claim as allies?”
The lieutenant did not answer. He motioned for another drag from the pipe, his head resting on the cool stone wall of the well as he closed his eyes.
***
The two men wrestled with sleep and woke to the Sun God’s rays pouring over the wall of the fort. Their bones ached from a fitful night on the hard ground. The commander divided the fort into quadrants to organize the search more efficiently. Having secured the fort from human invaders, they left their weapons and armor next to the well.
It did not take long for the soldiers to find the other bodies. Corpses populated the middle of the fort as the commander and lieutenant dragged the bodies from their final resting places. The stench overwhelmed them, forcing the men to vomit multiple times. When they had finished the entire search, three dozen diseased soldiers lay at their feet. Every one had succumbed to the same condition as the fort commander. Pustules covered their hands, faces, and genitals. Mouths gaped wide from the fatal expulsion of diseased flesh sacs, and puss continued to flow from some, even in death.