by Lara Morgan
‘Follow me.’ He jerked his head toward the tents.
Feeling the eyes of the others on their backs, they walked into the camp. The tents were pegged in a rough circle facing the fire pit. A metal bar had been set over the fire and a large pot hung from it, but there was no one around. Voices called faintly from the village and the sound of splitting wood echoed eerily across the camp. Uneasiness set an itch between Tallis’s shoulder blades and he glanced at Jared who gave him a dark watchful look, his hand hovering near the sheathed knife at his waist.
Close to the river, a larger tent was pegged, its front flaps decorated with the insignia of the riders: a swirling pale red pattern and two rearing serpents. Attar led them to it.
‘Wait here while I talk with the Captain.’ He indicated a patch of ground under a spindly tree nearby, then disappeared inside the tent.
‘Those men didn’t look too friendly,’ Jared commented as he sat down with a wince on the bare ground. Both of them were suffering chafed and sore legs and Tallis grunted as he lowered himself down and leaned back against the tree.
‘They’ve probably never seen a clansman before. Who knows what stories the wetlanders tell of us.’
Night was falling and his stomach was starting to growl with hunger by the time Attar emerged. The big man looked tense and there was a deep frown between his eyes.
‘I told the Captain that you encountered beasts like those that attacked this village; he is interested to hear more details. We will meet after the evening meal. Now, come and I’ll show you where you can bed down for the night.’ He strode past them toward the tents.
Tallis and Jared followed, but a kernel of apprehension was growing in Tallis’s gut as they did. Attar had been in the tent for a long while. Uneasy, he lagged behind as Attar took them to a small area between two tents, not far from the fire pit. He instructed them to lay their sleeping mats out and told them a meal would be prepared shortly, then left, walking off with quick strides back to the Captain’s tent. Tallis turned to Jared who shrugged, dropped his pack and began laying out his mat.
The evening meal was more of the kind of spicy food that Bren liked to make, and they ate it on their sleeping mats, away from the patrol’s soldiers. Tallis counted fifty men. They sat around the fire talking quietly and casting glances in their direction. His eyes locked with a large man with greying hair who stared at him as he ate. Tallis ignored him and went back to his food. His head started to ache dully as he wiped his bowl clean with a crust of bread.
Jared nudged him. ‘He’s coming.’
The soldiers nodded respectfully to Attar as he passed, and Tallis felt fifty pairs of eyes on them as he crooked a finger and motioned with his head to the Captain’s tent. They rose and followed under the silent gaze of the patrol.
Inside the tent, the Captain was sitting cross-legged on a thin mat. His heavy jaw was covered in a thick reddish beard and he looked up at them from deep-set, hooded eyes. Next to him a covered lamp burned, throwing shadows against the canvas. Nodding at them he indicated they should sit. His eyes measured them, and a creeping sensation peeled along the length of Tallis’s spine as he lowered himself to the mat.
‘So, Commander Rorc has sent you because you have already seen these beasts,’ the Captain said. ‘And you say they are like our own serpents, only blacker in colour and deed.’ His speculative gaze rested on Tallis. ‘You are the one who communicated with them?’
Tallis flicked a glance at the rider. ‘Tell him,’ Attar said his voice flat.
‘I am not one of your soldiers to command.’
‘No, but you are in my camp,’ the Captain said, ‘and I rule it. While you are here you will do what I say.’
‘Then perhaps we should leave,’ Jared’s eyes narrowed. ‘We would have no trouble surviving in these soft lands.’
‘And that would be your choice.’ He gave him a flat stare. ‘But you will not. You know how dangerous those beasts are. You have seen them, they’ve killed your own and could, right now, be killing more. We only ask you to help us stop them. You know you can, in fact you have already, haven’t you?’
Anger rose in Tallis. He had not counted on Attar sharing so much with this Captain. ‘I already told you, I don’t know what I did,’ he said.
‘Attar tells me you bent them to your will,’ the Captain said. ‘That you drove them away.’
‘Attar has told you much.’ He gave him a hard stare, but the rider only looked back without remorse. Tallis turned back to the Captain. ‘But I can’t explain what I did, and I do not know how to repeat it.’
‘Then you must learn,’ the Captain replied.
‘And who will teach me? You?’ They hadn’t been there; they hadn’t seen what he did. I know what you are, Karnit’s voice whispered.
The red-bearded man looked at him with an uncompromising stare. He had probably seen much, Tallis thought: war, death – but this? Neither of them had any idea what they asked.
‘Do you know the words I spoke?’ Tallis said and felt Jared tense, saw his hand hover near his knife. ‘They are not any you have heard. I am not like your riders. I felt a rage so strong it was as though hatred ran through my veins not blood.’ He turned his gaze on Attar. ‘Why do you think Marathin is wary of me? What I can do is not the same as you. Her blood calls to me, it is not a simple mind voicing as you call it, it’s something else. Yes, I think I could force her to do my bidding. But those rogue serpents . . .’ he shook his head. ‘They were different. I could feel their hatred, their need to kill. They wanted us all to die that day. They lusted for it. I could feel it.’ He eyed them. What would happen if in trying to control them, they could control me? What if they could use me to command more serpents, to raise an army for them? What would you do then?’
‘We would have to kill you,’ the Captain said.
Jared made a sound in his throat and rose, his hand on his knife. But suddenly shouting and pounding footsteps sounded from outside and Bren flung back the flap of the tent. ‘Captain! The black serpents have been sighted!’
Attar and the Captain both rose to their feet. ‘Where?’ Attar said.
‘Haraka saw them east of here when he was hunting. They’re heading toward a small farm.’ The young rider radiated urgency as he gripped the canvas.
‘Right, I’ll take the serpents,’ Attar said.
‘And I’ll send a patrol.’ The Captain strode past Bren, shouting out orders as he left the tent.
‘You two come with me.’ Attar barely glanced at them as he rushed out after the Captain. Tallis and Jared looked at each other.
‘Come on.’ Tallis rose and they followed the rider outside.
The camp was full of shouts and the sound of weaponry jangling, men jogging past them with grim faces. Attar was running with Bren for the riverbank. Following them, Tallis saw the shadow of the serpents waiting beyond the low flames of the camp torches. Both were agitated. They swayed their tails and arched their necks and as they approached, Marathin turned and hissed at them, her bright eyes flaming red.
Tallis halted as Marathin’s gaze fell on him. Heat punched into his stomach, flaring out and up his spine, and the serpent’s hiss echoed in his mind long after it had gone from the air.
‘Attar,’ Jared shouted, watching the serpent. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We’re going after them,’ Attar answered, ignoring Marathin’s twisting and hissing as he helped Bren tighten her saddle. ‘We’re going to see if we can save some lives – if it’s not too late. Come on, get on.’ He turned to Tallis and gestured at Marathin.
Tallis’s didn’t move and Attar frowned. ‘Can you feel them?’
‘No, but she can,’ he nodded at Marathin.
The rider pulled hard on a strap and Tallis suddenly felt a dark premonition prickle his spine.
‘Attar, we should not go.’
‘You afraid, clansman?’ Bren suddenly said, stepping up to him.
‘Yes,’ Tallis turned on him. ‘I’ve seen
them. Have you?’
Bren’s face darkened, but Attar stepped between them. ‘All the more reason to help those they’re after. Here . . .’ He held out a crossbow. ‘These people may die, Tallis. Do either of you want that?’
Tallis looked at Jared. His earth brother’s eyes were hard and dark, his mouth set. ‘I don’t know how to command them.’
Attar’s look was measuring. He didn’t believe him, but after a moment he gave a curt nod. ‘All right, but you’ve seen the size of them, we could use whatever help you can give.’ He held the weapon out to him again.
Tallis took the bow. ‘Show me how to use it.’
Attar quickly ran through the firing mechanism as Bren called another soldier over and retrieved a bow for Jared.
‘How will the patrol get there?’ Jared took the crossbow and watched as Bren repeated the firing instructions.
‘Muthu.’ Attar tossed his head behind them, and they turned and saw the beasts tethered in the shadows. ‘They run fast. Now, come on!’
Gritting his teeth, Tallis avoided looking at Marathin’s eye as he gripped the back of Attar’s saddle and quickly sprang up. Attar handed him the crossbow and he set an arrow in it before storing it in the saddle holster. His heart pounding, he hung on as Marathin launched into the air. Wind whistled in his ears and his eyes streamed as she ascended and wheeled away. Below, twelve men dressed in dark clothing clung like shadows to the backs of the muthu, crouching low over the animals’ long necks as they raced off along the banks of the river.
Marathin rose higher and with a flap of her wing, they left the soldiers behind. They flew east, following the course of the river that glowed silver in the moonlight. There was no cloud and the moon shone down on the land, turning its features into colourless forms of light and shadow.
Anxiety grew in Tallis as they sped through the night. He could hear, just below the thudding of his own heart, a quiet thrumming vibrating from the serpent. It warmed him like fire in his blood. Marathin was hungering for the chase, and fear beat its fingers along his spine as he felt his own bloodlust rising to match hers. Her wildness was seeping into him. He felt every stroke of her wing, every breath, and they raced as one after their prey.
Barely half an hour had passed, when Bren shouted and pointed. Ahead he saw the dark shadow of two buildings, moonlight silvering the bare ground. There was no sign of light or life. Were they too late? Marathin stretched her wings and was tilting down toward it when Tallis felt the hair on the back of his neck lift and a chill swept though him.
‘Marathin!’ he shouted, and he wasn’t sure if he voiced it, or screamed the warning in his mind. A shrieking call sounded and the serpent tucked her wings and dove just in time as a great black shape swooped them. Tallis was thrown back, the harness stretching. Pain stabbed through his head and he tried desperately to stay conscious as blackness wavered at the edges of his vision.
‘Hold . . .’ Attar’s words were whipped away as Marathin suddenly opened her wings and banked steeply left.
A black hooked wing swept past, barely a hand’s length from his head, and the creature shrieked as it missed them.
Tallis tasted bile at the back of his throat and felt his sense of reality slipping. The world around him dimmed, the thrumming grew louder. He tried desperately to fight it. He concentrated on the feel of the bars beneath his hands, the rough skin of the serpent against his legs.
‘Shoot it!’ Attar shouted as he pulled his bow from the saddle.
But Tallis couldn’t move. He could hear nothing but his own heart, and the insistent thrumming of the serpent. He saw Bren and Jared circling back toward them. Moonlight glinted on the arrow tip in Jared’s bow. The scene had a surreal quality to it. He heard them shouting, and the noise of the wind rushed past his ears, but it all came through a thick wall. The beast was coming again. He twisted in his saddle. It was close behind. It came out of the darkness, its great jaw open, its eyes gleaming. Moonlight shone on the white tips of its teeth.
Tallis forgot the crossbow and instinctively drew his hunting knife. The beast came closer and shrieked again, its wail piercing; its long neck stretched toward them as it lunged. At the last moment, Marathin twisted and they rolled underneath. Its sharp, taloned feet missed, but its wings did not. The hooked barbs of its left wing dragged over Marathin’s flank and caught Tallis across the shoulder.
Marathin shrieked and convulsed, and hot pain seared Tallis’s flesh. He screamed and dropped his knife. Suddenly everything came back into focus. He clearly heard Attar shouting as Marathin hissed and writhed beneath them. The wind whipped past, pushing back his hair, and he smelled blood. Haraka swooped past them and he saw a flash of Jared’s eyes staring, white and angry. Blood ran down Tallis’s back and a fiery agony burned across his shoulder.
‘Where is it?’ he shouted.
‘I don’t . . . there!’ Attar pointed and Tallis saw the darkness coalesce into the beast. It was half as big again as Marathin, and it shrieked at them as its wings thumped the air. Bren and Jared moved in, Haraka darting in toward its side. Bren held his sword out, ready to slash, and Jared shot arrows, but they bounced harmlessly off the hard ridge on the beast’s neck.
Tallis saw another shape emerge from the darkness. ‘Attar!’ he shouted, but they weren’t close enough. The second beast hit Haraka from behind, its talons ripping into the serpent’s tail, opening up flesh. Tallis saw the crossbow fly into the air and blood spurted as Jared fell limply back against the harness.
‘Jared!’ he screamed. Marathin bucked beneath him and he felt the rage and darkness inside reaching for him. Words rose to his lips; like bubbles forming in the hot springs, they burst from him with a hiss. He commanded and Marathin arrowed herself at one of the beasts, swiping at it with her forelegs and tail. Behind, the other still battled with Haraka stabbing at his neck with its talons. Bren threw a knife and the blade embedded in its body near its neck. The beast shrieked, and with one swoop of its wing hooked its sharp barbs into Bren and pulled him from his saddle, then dropped him. Haraka tried to catch him in his claw, but the beast tackled him and Bren tumbled to the earth.
Rage burned through Tallis’s body and words rose, coming out of him like hot metal dipped in water, hissing and crackling. One beast shrieked and recoiled, its tail slashing, and the other reared back from Haraka and whipped around, staring at him. For a tense moment it hovered, and Tallis thought it might flee, but then, with a shriek, it came for him.
‘Shoot it!’ Attar shouted. Tallis reached for the bow. The world narrowed and there was nothing but him and the beast. Rage and hate ran through his veins and he was snarling as he aimed. The world disappeared and a thrumming came to him, cold as death, reverberating in his chest. Its jaws opened but he heard nothing. He loosed the arrow and took the beast in the eye.
With a cut-off shriek its wings folded and it plummeted downwards taking his mind with it. Pain arced through him as his consciousness suddenly spiralled out into the blackness, following the fading thrum. Desperately, he tried to pull back. Dimly he heard Attar shouting and focused on his voice. Blackness surrounded him and he thought, with despair, that he was losing himself. Coldness seeped into him. Then, as though from far away, he heard Attar call his name. He reached toward it and, with a wrenching pull, he could see. The night air was rushing past his face and into his lungs. He blinked hard, and looked around for the other beast, but it was gone. Attar was urging Marathin to the ground, Haraka swooping down next to them with Jared slumped in the harness. Tallis hung on as Marathin landed heavily on a bare patch of earth near the dark farmhouse.
‘Where did the other go?’ Tallis shouted, watching as Haraka landed nearby. ‘Did you kill it?’
‘No.’ Attar jumped off the serpent. ‘Are you all right?’ He looked at the gash on his shoulder.
‘Yes.’ He’d forgotten about his wound, the pain was dim, barely even noticeable.
With a grunt, Attar turned and ran toward a dark shape on the ground
nearby. Bren. Sickened, Tallis pulled himself from the saddle and went to Haraka. The serpent’s head was drooping toward the ground and blood ran from cuts along his tail.
Jared was slumped over, blood covering his back and his coat hung in shreds from his shoulders. Cold fear gripped Tallis as he put his arms around him and pulled him from the saddle, lowering him to the ground. Jared cried out as he lay him down and Tallis swallowed as he saw the ripped flesh on his back. He was looking for water on Bren’s saddle when a woman’s scream rang out and he turned to see Attar running toward him.
‘Here!’ He threw Bren’s sword at him. ‘Come on.’
Tallis caught the sword and with a worried look at Jared, ran after Attar into the shadows between the buildings. They emerged into a dusty open area surrounded by low fences. Another of the beasts crouched there, its wings half spread. It held a small, blonde woman in its front talons. Tallis stopped, sweat coating his forehead. She was young and on the ground nearby was a bloody bundle: a baby’s blanket. His stomach turned. The woman saw them and cried out. Blood was running down her dress from a gash in her side and the beast held her above the ground, dangling her from one arm. She stared at them from wide, terrified eyes, blood dripping into the dust.
The beast swivelled its head and stared directly at Tallis. It arched its back and shrieked at him. It’s spiked tail biting into the ground as it thumped it down. Arak-ferish! The word grated through Tallis’s skull, and he almost dropped the sword, staggering with pain. A metallic taste coated his tongue and hate blazed from the beast’s eye as it stared at him.
Unaware, Attar ran toward it with a roar. Shaken, Tallis hesitated, but then a hot surge of rage and a killing need overtook him. His lip curled and with a shout he hefted the blade and followed. They skirted either side of the beast, blades raised, trying to find an opening. Attar ran in, swiping at its wing. Tallis tried to get behind it at the same time. He dodged around, ignoring the hot pain in his shoulder as he raised the blade and tried to slash at its hindquarters. But it was too quick. Hissing, it swiped at Attar then spun and swept a wing at Tallis. He ducked, feeling the air whip over his head. When he looked up again he found himself staring straight into the beast’s eyes. Its black gaze locked with his and Tallis saw something flicker in their depths. Dread filled him as the beast arched its neck and raised a taloned foreclaw.