Tully’s eyes grew wide and she actually screamed at the man, not out of anger, but likely out of shock. There was a part of Niall that wanted to see if he could help but he restrained himself. She was still talking and the man had not attacked. Whatever she’d heard was news of some sort and she would tell him if it pertained to their quest.
Temmi looked around with horror. “Is there nothing here that isn’t dark and diseased?”
“Hollum has a reputation. It’s not a very good reputation, I’m afraid.”
She looked down at the river. “A reputation for what? Drowned things?”
“You have money, it can be a paradise. If you don’t, it can kill you. It’s a place where people travel and only the desperate stay. I was warned away from here by my father when I was younger.”
They might have continued talking but the spectacle of a hundred half-naked women being marched through the streets was enough to distract them both. They were in chains and all of them pale as a winter frost. Niall saw them and shook his head. His father had slaves, but these were not the sort that his mother would have tolerated. Like as not they’d be sold to whorehouses and used most poorly.
“Those are Grakhul!” Temmi’s voice carried across the road and all the way to the chained women and the folk who were moving them along. What had to be the very largest woman Niall had ever seen looked toward them and came their way. She was muscular. Her arms were as thick as his thighs. She was big, taller than him and easily capable of throwing him across a room.
He held his staff a little tighter and wondered if he could use it to knock her down if he had to. He had his doubts.
She did not look to him. She looked down at Temmi, from a full foot or more above the girl. “You speak their language? The tongue of the pale ones?”
“Aye, the Grakhul. My family traded with them for years.”
“Where are they from?”
“From?” Temmi frowned at her. “They’re from Nugonghappalur. The great citadel of the Grakhul.”
The large woman gave no sign that she understood the words.
Temmi shook her head. “You know how people are taken for the gods by the Undying?”
“Yes. I lost my mother many years ago.” The way she said it, enough time had passed that there was no longer any grief, just acceptance.
“The Grakhul are the folk that make the actual sacrifices. They prepare them for the gods and then kill them.”
“And how do you know this?”
“My family’s had dealings for generations. It’s what we’ve always done.”
“So they’re not from the north? From beyond Trant’s Peak?”
“Nowhere near it.”
The woman cursed and spat and made a few gestures that meant nothing to Niall but were plainly obscene.
“The fucker lied to us.” The large woman was upset. As she had several weapons on her in addition to being incredibly muscular and rather angry, Niall once again considered whether or not he could stop her if she decided to attack.
“Who lied to you?” Temmi seemed not at all worried. Then again, she had recently seen her family murdered and was probably not in her right mind.
“We had westerners, like as not from Stennis Brae, sell us all of these women and they told us they were from past Trant’s Peak.”
“Having been to Trant’s Peak and back, they’ve lied to you. The people from those parts are nowhere near as kind.”
“Trust me, this lot isn’t kind.”
“Well, no, the women are rather like you.”
The giant woman scowled. “How do you mean?”
“They’re trained to fight. Their men aren’t. Their men are softer, timid even.” Temmi’s eyes moved to Niall and he felt himself flush. Was he timid? He didn’t think he was. Then again, he was staring at a woman who was bigger than him and he’d felt nothing but a need to not attract her attention. He watched the exchange without saying a word. He wasn’t invited into the conversation, but he hoped to learn something.
“So what’s happening here? Why are there so many people in Hollum? I mean, they’ve built their tents in alleys where people piss. Doesn’t make much sense.”
“You’ve not heard?”
“Been lost in the wilds a while. Attacked and had my family killed.” Temmi blinked back tears but continued on. “Haven’t heard any news in a month or so.”
“Sorry to hear about the family, love.”
Temmi nodded and the huge woman continued. “Whatever has happened, great storms came and took Saramond.”
“How do you mean, ‘took’?”
“Destroyed. Swallowed by the sea. And the storms are heading this way, they say.”
“So all these people?”
“From Saramond. We’re selling our stock and moving on, which is why I wondered if I could hire you to talk to the Grackle people and tell them to calm themselves. None of them speak any languages we’ve tried.”
“Grakhul.”
“Not as it matters to me. Just want to tell them to be calm before somebody takes a whip to them.”
“I…” Temmi sighed and lowered her head, fighting with her emotions. “I can speak to them, but I expect you’ll not want to sell them. The He-Kisshi will come looking.”
“Big fellas? Faces that are always hidden?”
“Those are the ones. The Undying.”
“The Undying?” The big woman actually paled.
“Aye. They watch over the Grakhul. They need each other, you see. The He-Kisshi gather the harvest for the gods. The Grakhul make the prayers then offer the harvest. Been that way for a thousand years or more.”
“My mum was taken by them.” The woman’s face softened with fear and for a moment Niall could see the ghost of that girl child who’d seen her mother snatched away.
Niall said, “They won’t stop.” He nearly surprised himself. He’d had no intention of getting involved in the conversation.
The woman looked his way. “What say?” Damn, but she was a big woman. Solid as a rock, handsome more than pretty and oddly appealing though he knew she could throw him over her shoulder like a cloak.
“The He-Kisshi. I was taken as a sacrifice. I got away. One of them has come for me twice now and they won’t stop. I think if they discover you’ve sold their people, they’ll come for you, no matter what.”
“I’m to sell this lot and move on. If these hooded bastards want to pay for them that’s fine by me.”
Niall shut his mouth. He’d offered his warning.
The woman turned back to Temmi. “I’m Stanna. With the slavers, obviously. We’re taking them to the auction house now. I just need someone to tell them to stay calm. I’ll pay you.”
“I’m Temmi. I’ll talk to them.”
Stanna smiled and slapped Temmi on the shoulder. To the latter’s credit she did not fall on her side in the mud, but she was staggered just the same.
Niall stayed where he was as Temmi walked away and Tully returned.
“Where is she going?”
“Apparently she’s been hired by slavers to tell their new stock to behave while they’re being sold.”
Tully shook her head. “Only here. I mean that.”
“Aye.”
“Saramond is gone. Destroyed by the gods.”
“Truly?” Niall frowned. He’d almost convinced himself that the woman’s story of the city being gone, actually destroyed, might have been an exaggeration. “Do you suppose they’ll stop there?”
“We can hope. There’s a bounty on a large group of men. They’re supposed to take the place of the failed sacrifices.”
“Maybe that means we’re safe?”
Tully shook her head. “I’ve my doubts.”
“Aye. Me too.” He frowned. “Friend of yours? That one you were talking with?”
“Business acquaintance. He was catching me up on what’s happening here.”
“Refugees and the like. Yeah. Did he say where you could get a map?”
&n
bsp; “He did.” Tully’s eyes wandered around the area and she called out harshly as she looked past him. Niall turned to see a child dressed in rags backing away from him, a sour look on her face.
Niall frowned. “What was that about?”
Tully flicked a hand toward the girl. “She planned to rob you.”
“Nothing really to steal.” He felt oddly accomplished in that moment.
Tully nodded. “Aye, but if she’d found nothing she’d like as not have stabbed you for the inconvenience.”
Tully’s ability to sour a mood was potent. “Lovely town. Glad we’re leaving soon.”
The blonde woman looked around briefly, her eyes barely even noticing the corpse. The dead man had continued to not breathe and that was enough for Niall. “Yes, well, sooner is better. I need you to wait here. We can’t lose Temmi and I need to get your map.”
He blinked in surprise. “So I’m just to wait here for the two of you?”
“Did you have any other plans?” She shot him one of her looks. She could wither a tree with her expressions.
“Well, no, of course not.” He looked toward where Temmi was talking with Stanna and the pale women.
“Then we’re all in agreement. I’ll be back before midday.”
He looked back to where Tully had been but saw no sign of her. “I should hope! The morning’s only started!”
So far his day had been rather eventful and he’d barely moved from his location. He spotted the street girl coming toward him from the corner of his eye and glared. “I’ll knock your teeth out as soon as look at you. Move on.”
She made a gesture that matched one of Stanna’s from earlier and ran off down an alley.
It was going to be an interesting day.
* * *
Temmi liked Stanna the second she saw her. Stanna was what her father called a no-nonsense soul. She was direct and honest. If she liked you, she liked you. If she didn’t, you were probably going to die.
Temmi wanted to be no-nonsense. Tully was full of secrets. She tried to hide them, but they followed her.
Niall was too cautious for his own good. He was quick to defend another, a trait he did not see in himself, but when it came to making decisions, the man was slow and meticulous. He wanted to study every possibility. Still, he was pretty enough with his light hair and his blue eyes and his nervous smile. He made her losses more tolerable, as did Tully.
The Grakhul looked at her and a few of the women recognized her.
She could place some of them, though she couldn’t have told a single name if her life depended on it.
It wasn’t her life hanging on the edge.
Stanna looked at her expectantly and the Grakhul looked on as well.
Temmi nodded her head, thought of how her father would have handled matters, and started the conversation going.
“You’re to be sold at market. This one, Stanna, wants you to behave.”
The closest of the women looked at her and shook her head. “The He-Kisshi come. They are directed by the gods. If we are not freed, everyone in the city dies.”
Temmi nodded again. It was going to be a long conversation.
* * *
Lexx groaned, his body racked with fever chills. The beast that had ruined him was long gone, but in his half-conscious dreams it lashed out again and again, shredding his hand and face.
He’d never imagined a whip could hurt so much. It was almost enough to make him regret the times he’d used one on slaves who refused to listen. Mind you, he’d only ever torn a little flesh, never broken bones or stolen an eye.
They’d traveled a great distance, the slaves walking and he carried in a wagon, thanks to the loyalty of Stanna. Had she not done so, he would have died, along with everyone else in Saramond. He tried to speak but his mouth was too dry, his tongue too torn and the inside of his mouth was swollen with infection. The gums around his shattered teeth throbbed with every heartbeat.
Sans opened the door to his room and stepped inside. “The healer will be here soon, Lexx.” There had been a time when Sans looked at Lexx and he knew she wanted him with a near desperation that was flattering and amusing. Now she looked on him with little more than pity.
He nodded his head. It was easier than trying to speak past the bandages covering most of his face. Even nodding hurt. It sent an ache through his skull and neck.
There were claims that the healers in the city were among the best in the world. They were not afraid to use sorcery to finish a task that required it. Lexx was not afraid to pay them a great deal if they could restore what was left of him. He had the money. Like everyone else in the guild, he kept his monies spread through several guilds and even stashed in hidden areas, though some of those were likely under water by now.
Sans stopped staring and then nodded herself before leaving the room.
Lexx’s hand thrummed with agonies he didn’t want to think about. The swelling was nearly overwhelming and the pain came in waves. He closed his eyes in an effort to hide from the constant aches and unwillingly drifted into a fitful slumber.
When he woke up a man he’d never seen was staring at him. He was quite the sight. His body was not heavy, it was just grossly fat. His skin was pale and discolored and his hair was patchy. His eyes were a disastrous mess, with several ruptured vessels and whites that were as yellowed as old parchment.
“You are awake. That is excellent.”
Lexx stared at the man, horrified. He looked diseased.
“I shall say this simply: when I heal people, I take their sickness into myself. Through the magics the Galeans taught me, I pull your illness away then, well, to say it simply, I eat the illness until it is gone from you. I have been busy of late. There are a lot of people who came to town injured. I am a bit overfull right now.”
Lexx nodded.
“Your business partner, Stanna, has already paid me. We can begin whenever you’d like.”
Lexx nodded again, desperate to be cured of his ruination. He gestured with his uninjured hand for the swollen nightmare to get on with it.
The healer licked his lips. Those horrid, bloated hands reached for him and carefully started peeling away his bandages. As much as his flesh hurt where infection was having its way, the thought of that pale, mottled skin touching him seemed almost worse.
The healer touched his face with a caress that was as soft as a feather and nearly burned with feverish heat. Lexx stiffened, his entire body going rigid with a desire to get away.
“This will hurt quite a bit. Scream if you must. It makes no difference.”
Did Lexx scream as the pain roared through his body? He did not know. He might have, but all he remembered afterward was the pain as large as a castle that fell on him and crushed him into darkness.
When he awoke again, the healer was in the corner of the room, so bloated that his clothes strained and seams had split. His body looked bruised, as if he’d fallen from the top of a building and somehow managed to survive it. He stank of illness and disease. Even from this distance his body radiated as much heat as an open fire pit.
“I have done all I can.” The voice was strained and weak.
There was no pain.
Lexx closed his good eye and looked out of the ruin that had bled across his face. His vision was a little off, softer in focus, but he could see again. His tongue ran across the inside of his mouth, and felt teeth that were mostly complete and gums that were no longer shredded. The inside of his mouth was intact. He clenched his hand and felt the fist he made as tendons and bones moved the way they were supposed to. Though there were scars on his hand, they were faded as if they were twenty years old.
The healer wheezed with each breath and said, “I must stay here for now. I cannot walk.”
There was a time when Lexx would have had the man removed from his room. Instead he merely nodded and walked past the wretch in search of a mirror.
His fingers already told the story. His skin was almost smooth and his teeth we
re almost repaired. He had been broken and now he was mostly intact.
It would have to do.
There was a mirror of polished glass in the room. The slavers paid handsomely for good accommodations. The mirror gave a better report than he’d expected. His eyelid was a bit lazy on the ruined side and his eye’s iris was distorted. Considering that the eye had literally been torn to shreds, he could accept that. The scarring on his once handsome face was excessive, but it could be argued that it lent a certain air of menace. The scars spoke of a survivor, not of a weak man.
Stanna had been good enough to leave his weapons wrapped in a cloak. Lexx ignored the man whimpering in the corner and changed into fresh clothes after washing himself as best he could with a bowl of cold water.
Sword and dagger went in place. He found a small collection of coins in one boot and smiled. He owed his friend so very much.
Once dressed and presentable, Lexx headed for the door, wondering if he could find someone selling a proper weighted whip. Time would tell.
The sky was a strange mixture of gray and green that he had never seen before. Still, it was bright enough that Lexx squinted in the daylight.
He had been to Hollum before. Moving toward the auction blocks was easy enough once he oriented himself. The pain was gone. That was the part that mattered. Scars? Fine. The pain that had crushed him under its weight was missing.
A wretched little thing in tattered street clothes tried to sneak in close to him. He’d met her type before. Without wasting a breath he unsheathed his dagger and buried it in her neck as she reached surreptitiously for his purse.
She fell back coughing, drowning in her own blood.
The day was already getting better.
* * *
“They’ll do as you say.” Temmi shrugged and looked at Stanna. “You should let them go. The He-Kisshi are coming for them. They destroyed Saramond, and if they don’t get their way they’ll destroy this area, too.”
The Last Sacrifice Page 24