Infernals were something between demons and mortal monsters. Where demons delighted in sowing sin and evil, Infernals delighted in wreaking overt destruction and death. They were manticores, hydras, harpies, minotaurs and other terrifying monstrosities. The most famous of all Infernals was the Cerberus, the three-headed fire-breathing hound of Apollyon that wrought great destruction across the world. It was slain ages ago by the late Saint Bryant of the Horn. Not much was known about Infernals or where they came from, but like the Unbounds, their power could vary greatly. Nuriel had never before heard of one taking the form of a human, even if that human was the monstrous being known as Behemoth Kraken. Back in Sanctuary they were told that Infernals only took the form of monstrous creatures. Then again, Nuriel supposed Kraken did fit the literal definition of ‘monstrous creature’.
“What do we do?” asked Hadraniel.
“Kill them.” said Nuriel. She flourished her sword and shot in.
The black, tentacled creature scuttled forward, its front tendrils raised. Nuriel whirled in, her sword a spinning blur of black star-metal. She felt the crunch of flesh and bone and saw part of the tentacle go flying off. She tried to bring her sword down in a chop at its body but found her arm stuck. Her eyes flicked up and saw a tentacle wrapped around her sword arm. Before she could react, Hadraniel leapt in and his sword sliced through the tentacle. Blood sprayed out for a moment before it grew back and was made whole again.
Now side-by-side, it was all Nuriel and Hadraniel could do to keep the creature’s snapping beak at bay and its tentacles from reaching them. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Nuriel saw the fleshy mass that had been Behemoth Kraken move. Its entire bulk oozed forward, its flattened, deflated head cursing something garbled as it came toward her.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong—” Hadraniel started to speak when Nuriel dashed from his side toward the fleshy creature, leaving him to deal with the current beast.
Nuriel drove in at the thing. She couldn’t perceive any outward threats from the disgusting mass, but something told her to proceed with caution anyway. Her sword shot forward, plunging into the mass, but instead of puncturing skin she felt her blade sink in, as if it had melted into a pile of mud. The thing made a mangled laugh as Nuriel tried to pull her sword free, but the thing held it within its bulk.
Nuriel looked up just as the creature washed itself over her like a tidal wave of flesh. Before darkness took her, she caught one last glimpse of Hadraniel dodging left from a tentacle, only for the thing’s beak to catch him around the arm. Certainly if not for his star-armor bracer it would have severed it clean through. With a flick of its head, it sent Hadraniel flying across the room where he crashed into the wall near the broken doorway, fragments of brick falling onto his limp form.
Nuriel screamed as the gelatinous mountain engulfed her. She tried to breathe but stinking flesh sucked up into her mouth and nostrils, choking her. The thing’s weight was fully upon her. It was massive and felt like a million pounds crushing down on her. She flared her Caliber and pushed up, but her hands only sank into the thing’s formless bulk.
“HA! HA! HA!” she could hear its muffled laughter through the flesh that engulfed her entire face and head and wrapped around her ears. It blinded her, choked her, crushed her. “HA! HA! HA! I’M GOING TO FUCK YOU YET, SAINT!”
Nuriel tried to scream, but no sound escaped her mouth. She felt something long and hard graze her thigh. The creature’s weight shifted and the stiff object slid up her belly.
“WHERE’S YOUR MOUTH YOU BITCH!”
Nuriel’s heart leapt as she realized what that long, stiff thing coming up her body was. She opened her mouth, letting a blob of flesh fall into it, and she bit down for all she was worth. She shook her head like a rabid dog, trying to tear through it, but the creature only laughed.
“AH, THERE’S YOUR MOUTH! OPEN WIDE!”
The creature’s penis began to slide up her neck. Her heart raced. She felt like she could black out at any moment. She needed air. She couldn’t breathe. The weight was crushing. With all she had left, Nuriel shined her Caliber like she never had before. Somehow, the panic of impending doom must have bolstered her, for she shined it so brightly she felt a physical pain. She felt the entire church’s mass around her. She could feel the floor beneath her, and the ceiling far above. Almost without effort, she willed it all in upon herself. Despite the bulk sitting atop her, she could hear the torturous crack of brick and mortar; the thunder as stone broke; the clamor of glass breaking.
The creature roared with something like panic. She felt it slither off of her. She scrunched herself into a ball on the floor, her Caliber becoming a shell of light around her. Her eyes opened just a slit as the church came down in a tumultuous cacophony. Stones and glass bounced off her Caliber, but she saw a giant slab of ceiling crush the fleshy blob that was Kraken. There was a sickening crunch and blood sprayed in all directions. The tentacled beast scuttled toward the door but made an ear-splitting shriek as the wall fell forward, tons of stone crushing down upon it.
And then there was silence.
Nuriel’s chest was heaving. Her heartbeat and her breath deafening in her ears. She opened her eyes. Rubble everywhere around her. Slowly, she stood. She looked around, unable to believe what she had just done. It was a feat that even Erygion would have found amazing. Not only that, but had she really shielded herself with her Caliber? Was that even possible? Her head spun.
“Nuriel!”
Nuriel shook her head and looked. Next to where the door used to be stood Hadraniel. He was covered in dust and looked a little worse for wear, but seemed otherwise unharmed.
“Nuriel!” he cried and he bounded over the rubble toward her. He grabbed her around the shoulders. “Nuriel! How…How in the fuck did you do that?!”
“I…I don’t know.”
Hadraniel let out a little laugh. He looked around, as if him being alive and the demons crushed to death was too good to be true. “You gotta let me know next time you do something like that!” He laughed again. “I just barely made it out!”
Nuriel plopped herself down on a chunk of stone and exhaled deeply. Her heart was still racing and she suddenly felt incredibly tired. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.
“You alright?” asked Hadraniel.
“I’m fine.” she said. She rubbed her face.
There were a few moments of blessed silence before Hadraniel asked, “So…now what?”
“What do you mean?” asked Nuriel. She felt groggy.
“I mean, you just killed King Gatima’s Exalted Noble.” said Hadraniel. “I mean…do we tell Sanctuary? Do we report this? …Did they know he was a demon?” Hadraniel pursed his lips and looked at Nuriel. “They could have our heads for this, Nuriel. Nobles are off limits, period. I assume even if they are demons.”
Nuriel buried her head in her hands for a moment as she tried to collect her thoughts. It was just her and Hadraniel who had witnessed this. Rathaniel had left to do Kraken’s bidding, and Ovid and Adonael had been sent back to Gatimaria to report to the King. Nuriel bit her lip and thought for a moment. Then she looked Hadraniel in his silver eyes. “We go back to Gatimaria and report,” she said. “We tell them that me, you and Kraken went out to search for survivors and we were confronted by a pair of demons.”
“You mean, the same pair of demons that was Behemoth Kraken and his horse?”
Nuriel shrugged. “Yeah. But they don’t know he was a demon.”
“What if they did know?” asked Hadraniel. “What if they know it was you who killed Kraken? I mean…”
Nuriel looked at him. “Then King Gatima is forced to admit that he has been harboring a demon. Sanctuary would never stand for that. They’d take back all Saints from his lands. Possibly even send us to take Gatima himself out.”
Hadraniel shook his head. “I don’t think you understand. What if Sanctuary knew he was a demon.”
Nuriel shook her head. “No. No.
That would be impossible. Holy Father would never allow—”
“Not Holy Father, but the Oracles. The Sin Eaters. Aeoria’s Guard. The Bishops…”
Nuriel frowned. She didn’t know if it dismayed her that there was another Saint who shared her suspicions or if it relieved her. She supposed it was at least a good sign that he seemed to think it impossible that Holy Father would be in on such a thing.
“If they did know,” said Hadraniel. “They’ll never let us live. They’ll recall us immediately. In fact, if they did know, they’ll know he’s dead right now and we could be recalled any minute!” His face went stark white. He started rubbing at his breastplate, as if it could consume him that very moment. “They know we were with Kraken, Nuriel. They’ll know it was us!”
Nuriel bit her lip and sat in quiet contemplation for a moment. In a way, she felt bad for Hadraniel. She knew that if she didn’t hold her own Sanguinastrum that she’d be freaking out as much as he was. She exhaled deeply. But there was no way. There was no way Sanctuary would know Kraken was a demon.
Nuriel looked up at Hadraniel. “Oracles and Sin Eaters can tell when a demon has been slain. They’ll know two of them have been killed. They might even know right now. If they didn’t know Kraken and his horse were demons, our story pans out. We were with Kraken and we were attacked by the demons. Kraken died in battle, and we narrowly survived. We’ll have nothing to worry about, except Gatima’s anger that his Exalted is dead. And Sanctuary can quell that in the face of us having killed a pair of Infernals.”
“Yeah, but what if they did know?” said Hadraniel. “They’ll never let us live. You seem to keep glossing over this.”
Nuriel bit her lip and looked at Hadraniel. “I can’t believe that they knew. I won’t believe it. Maybe Gatima did, but not Sanctuary. I believe in the good of Holy Father. I cannot believe he or anybody else in Sanctuary would have let that go.”
“I hope you’re right.” said Hadraniel, grasping the rim of his breastplate as if it were choking him. “I hope you’re right.”
— 20 —
BETRAYED
“Can you shut those babies up!” hissed Forest, his breath smoking in the cold morning air. He came to a halt and spun around, his brown eyes falling directly on Rook.
“She’s hungry,” said Rook. He rocked Ursula on his shoulder and patted her back gently, but with the sleepless night, lack of food, and cold morning air of the forest, she was inconsolable. The women behind him each held pairs of babies in their arms and weren’t faring any better.
“We need food, and a fire.” said one of the women.
Fire. Rook licked his lips at the word. He had no shirt, just the thin vest. His pants were no longer wet, but he had just endured a frigid night without shelter or fire. They had all survived by huddling together, and the Golothic hidden in his pocket had provided an extra degree of blessed warmth to him. Despite all that, Rook still felt frozen to the core. And he was beginning to remember how terrible the pangs of hunger could come on.
Forest shook his head. “No fire until we’re further out. They’ll see the smoke rising from a hundred miles away.”
“We need some warmth,” protested one of the women. She struggled with two wailing infants in her arms. She looked as miserable and frazzled as Rook felt. “For the babes.”
“Food,” said one of the older boys. “We have to get some food. We can’t keep forcing a march through the woods like this. We all need food. And water.”
“And something for the babes,” added another woman. She also struggled with a pair of inconsolable infants. “They have to have something.”
Forest sneered. “There is nothing. We have nothing.” he spat. He looked around, throwing out his arms. “Shall I pluck some bark for you? Shall we dine on pine needles and oak leaves?”
“Maybe we should have them hold up here,” suggested Reed, one of the elder boys. He was a taller fellow with red-brown hair and Rook thought he must be near eighteen or nineteen years of age. “I can go scout out a couple miles. I can try and bring back something to eat, or find some water.”
Forest puffed. “With what, your bare hands?”
Reed bent down and picked up a stone. “Believe it or not, I’m pretty handy with a rock. Sometimes me and my Pa would sneak out in the woods and pelt us a bird or rabbit to eat.”
“I can go with too,” offered another boy. Then a couple more spoke up and offered their services as well.
“No.” spat Forest, shaking his head. His face distorted in disgust. “I’m no fool. You all mean to run off and leave us! I’ll not have us all part ways.”
“We stand a better chance finding food and water if we split off into teams,” said Reed. “We can cover more ground. Maybe find a creek or a pond. Maybe find some berries or mushrooms even.”
The women, and even some of the younger children, all began mumbling their approvals.
Forest frowned, his eyes glowering at the others. He looked at Reed, sneering. “Fine then. But only me and you will go.”
“What about Sky, Winter and Lobo?” asked Reed, pointing at the other three boys his age. “They’re capable as well. They can take the south and we the north. We’ll cover more—”
“No!” snarled Forest. “How do we know they won’t run off? Go turn us in for their own gain?”
The other boys began to protest. Winter rolled his eyes and said, “That’s ridicu—”
“No!” spat Forest. “I’ll not have us split up. Me and Reed will go. The rest of you stay here and tend the women and children.”
None seemed satisfied with Forest’s decision, but they all knew it was the best they could hope for right now. Buckthorn had given command over to Forest before he and the others were taken away, and it was something Forest liked to remind them all about constantly. The people had so far honored Forest’s leadership, but Rook could feel tensions mounting. Rook knew that if he didn’t come back with some food, it would be doubtful any would continue to respect his authority.
Almost as soon as Forest and Reed were out of sight the other boys began rounding up fallen sticks and anything they could find to use as tinder. The women blessed the young men as they tried getting a fire going. Sky seemed the most adept at the art, and within an hour he sparked a blaze to the cheers and applause of all. With the help of the younger children, they managed to gather enough wood to get a cozy fire going and before long they were all huddled around it. They were still hungry and thirsty, and the babies still wailed and cried, but at least they were warm. Blessedly warm after having endured such a long, cold night.
Rook sat among the other children his age, rocking Ursula in his arms. The others all had smiles on their faces and made fun of poking small sticks into the fire and lighting them ablaze. But Rook could find no solace in such simple pleasures. Ursula was screaming. She was hungry and it pained him that there was nothing he could do about it. He laid her in his lap and tried cooing to her, but that only seemed to infuriate her. Her face scrunched up and there was a moment of silence as her face turned bright red. And then the real wailing began. Bolstered by the outburst, the rest of the babies in the camp now followed suit.
Rook couldn’t take it anymore. He had the dagger hidden in the waist of his pants, and he surreptitiously exposed the sharp point of the blade. He looked around to make sure none were watching, then he pricked his finger deeply, and quickly slipped it into Ursula’s mouth. She quieted immediately and began sucking ravenously.
The women did what they could to comfort their own babies in their charge. The only thing they could do was coo to them and sing. At first the women all began in on their own songs, but one of the women sang out louder and the rest joined her in her melody. It was a song Rook had heard his own mother sing a few times, and he too joined in, singing its melancholy tune to Ursula as she sucked upon his finger.
“My child, my child,
Let me sing you a song,
It starts in the Autumn when shadows are long.
The days they are short,
the fields picked bare,
But come on inside, a fire is there.
Warm yourself up,
and rest your head well.
Winter is coming but there’s no food where we dwell.
My child, my child,
Let me sing you a song,
It is Wintertime now and cold nights are long.
The fires grow short,
the hearth is near bare,
But sleep in my arms, my love is still there.
Warm yourself up,
and rest your head well,
Pass peacefully to the song of funeral bells.
My child, my child,
Let me sing you a song,
It ends in the Spring when the sun comes up strong.
Our days have been short,
Your cradle is bare,
I look to the sky and know you are there.
Warm yourself up,
and rest your head well,
Up in the heavens with the Goddess you dwell.
My child, my child,
Let me sing you a song,
We’ll meet once again where the Summer’s yearlong.
Our days won’t be short,
and bounty is there,
We’ll be with Aeoria; there’ll be no despair.
We’ll warm ourselves up,
and rest our heads well,
in the heavens above where the stars used to dwell.”
Rook thought the song was quite sad and despairing. A song befitting of where they all lived. He found himself wondering if other lands might be happier, and the tunes they sing to their children not so melancholy. He wondered if there were lands where mothers might sing out with joy. If there were lands where mothers needn’t worry if their children would starve to death in the cold winter. He looked down at Ursula and a tear fell off his cheek. His finger throbbed, but her eyes were closed now. She sucked peacefully; quietly. She was content, and so was he.
They sat like that for a long time. The fire cracked. Its warmth washed over the makeshift camp. Silence reigned. The air began to grow less cold, and in time morning’s sun was full up and its golden beams shown through the forest. Rook himself was about to doze off when hushed voices began to spread around the fire. Rook looked up and somebody whispered, “They’re coming!”
The Record of the Saints Caliber Page 53