“There is nothing to understand. They were servants of the gods and the gods do not need to explain themselves.”
“I do not judge. I merely observe.”
The hooded shape nodded. “That is wise.”
She said nothing and the creature continued to look on as she did her work. Several minutes passed in silence before it spoke again. “If the gods demand the lives you take, will you offer them over?”
“This realm belongs to the gods. Who am I to defy them?” She was not completely certain if she spoke the truth.
The Undying continued to watch her. The clouds above roiled and spilled snow and ice. The storm grew more powerful and she pulled her hood closer to her face and looked around the area. The bodies of humans and demonic servants alike were motionless and slowly the white buried them.
“Will the gods ruin this whole world?” she asked.
“The humans here have not done as they were told. Those who offended the gods are still alive, and so the gods continue to punish all.”
“Who will worship the gods if they kill all the people?” She frowned in thought even as she asked the question.
“That is the challenge, I think. The gods prepare to remake the world. If the people are all dead, there must be a new people to take their place.”
She said nothing to that. What could she hope to say? Gods had their own rules.
After another long silence, the creature spread its wings and she felt the winds pick up as it was lifted into the air. “If the gods demand it, I will take what you have secured.”
“If the gods demand it, I will let you.”
Without another word the Undying rose into the air and faded into the darkness.
Not long after that Daivem heard a more familiar and welcomed voice.
Darsken Murdrow spoke softly, “That is an unusual creature.”
“That is a messenger of the gods, sent to see what I am doing with the spirits I have gathered.”
He nodded his head and frowned. “I have spoken with the Grand Inquisitor. He does not feel you should be here.”
“I go where I must.”
Her brother’s frown deepened. “Agreed, but you take great chances and as your older brother I would rather you not. In any event, he says you should find Jahda, who has lived here for many years.”
“Where is Jahda? I have seen no sign of him.”
“I don’t even know him. I cannot help.”
“I’ll find him.” She shrugged and then pulled her cloak closer – the cold was savage now, and only getting worse. The sun had not shone in days, hidden away by clouds. Darsken seemed unaffected, but Daivem was beginning to think the cold would never leave her alone again.
“I cannot stay. There are things I must handle back in Fellein. There are… dark things happening.”
She nodded and started to speak, but he interrupted.
“Please, Daivem, do what you must and then come home. This world. I don’t think it will last for long, I think the gods here have decided to end it and that is a good reason to leave.”
“The dead–”
“Are dead. Help them if you can, but if there is no world they will find a way. That is what the dead do, my sister. They find their way.”
In many ways her brother was wise, but they did not agree on how much help the dead needed. She was more likely to help them than he was.
He chuckled. “I know that look. Help them if you can, but go to Jahda. He knows this world and you do not.”
“Is he trained in the ways of the Inquisitors?”
“I do not know. I believe he is. He is a king here. Go to him. Take his advice and then come home.” He shivered. “Come home to where it is warm and the damned sun knows how to show itself.”
For just a moment he leaned in close and his lips pressed against her temple. Then he was gone.
Jahda. It was a name. She would talk to the dead and ask a favor of them and they, in turn, would continue to get her help.
She knew what they wanted, of course. She had asked. They wanted revenge. That was always the case with the dead who died violently. They almost always wanted the satisfaction of revenge.
Of course, most of them wanted revenge against the gods who punished them.
She wasn’t quite sure how she could manage that, but she had to try. Perhaps Jahda could work out the details where she was failing.
Stanna
“What the hell was that?” Stanna paced. She was restless and she was angry. They’d had their enemies in their grasp and instead of winning the fight they had retreated.
She knew the reasons. They just didn’t matter.
“They had Galeans, Stanna.” Hillar shrugged her shoulders and then slipped out of her cloak. “I did not expect Galeans. They almost never leave their island and when they do it’s mostly to work as healers.”
“Had I known I’d have put a spear through the little fucker’s skull!”
“And I’d have loved to see it, but you did not know. You will know for the next time.”
“The next time?”
“We’re hardly finished.” Hillar looked her way and chuckled. “This is not nearly over. We have retreated, but we have not run away.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a slaver, not a sailor. There are no stars to guide us, but we will find our way. We are heading north again. We will find the place that Brogan McTyre and his scum are trying to seek. There are only a few things to look for this far north and I suspect they do not look for what is left of Saramond. We have a ship and they do not. We will find what they seek before they do and, when we get there, we only have to wait until they show up and we will kill them. You can kill their Galeans first.”
Stanna nodded and calmed herself.
“Brogan McTyre. I had him in my hands.”
Hillar nodded. “And he had you. I saw that fight. I did not think there was a man alive who could fight you and survive.”
“I am very good at what I do. There are others who are just as good.”
“We suffered losses. We suffered a great deal of losses.” Hillar’s voice softened. She was not happy. She was also the sort whose voice seemed calmer when she grew angry. Stanna bellowed her rage. Hillar whispered.
“I expected better from the Hollumites.”
“Aye. And so did I. Theryn’s reputation for death was not a mild one and it was well-earned. There was a reason I allowed her on the ship.”
Stanna nodded. She was a slaver, and she understood the tricks of the trade, but she had always preferred honest combat to the sneaking efforts of backstabbers.
“How long until we see them again?” Stanna looked at a bruise running across the back of her hand, where the red-bearded bastard had blocked a killing blow, and scowled. She wanted him dead. He had, regardless of his intent, altered her entire world. Temmi was a nice plus, she could hold that girl forever, but almost everything else had gone the wrong way.
A bell sounded faintly, three times. Each strike of the bell was cut short, meaning it was no mistake. The alarm was given that one of the Undying was nearby. As at least two of her friends were sought by the He-Kisshi and since one of them that she’d beheaded might well hold a grudge, Stanna took the warning seriously.
Hillar looked her way. “Are you worried about the Undying?”
“We do not always see things in the same light.” She did not offer extra information. That would be foolish. Hillar was her employer and trustworthy enough, but the woman was also known for keeping only the secrets that she found convenient. Let her know that a particular person was targeted by the Undying and that somebody became a method of bargaining if the need arose.
Hillar nodded. “I am uncomfortable with them myself. They tend to make threats more than they keep promises.”
“They follow the gods and the gods are ending the world. I have doubts that they will stop even if the right people are ki
lled.”
“Well, if they leave us the rest of the world, I can possibly live with that.”
Stanna shook her head. “I have never had much need for gods. They have never had much need for me. Still, I would rather they leave the world for us.”
“So we do as they ask a little while longer and then we find a better place to be.”
“Pressya,” Stanna sighed. “They say the lands there are open and there are only a few towns. We could build a new city, I think.”
Hillar smiled. “I like the way you think.”
“I will find a place to live and be happy. Or I will take Brogan McTyre’s place in the fight to kill the gods.”
Hillar frowned. “Carefully. I have never seen the ears on a He-Kisshi, but they have a way of hearing more than they should.”
Stanna patted her sword, the Bitch, and said nothing.
Beron
Beron crawled back into the world again, his skin steaming from his time in the heat of his master’s realm.
The He-Kisshi were long gone. In their stead he saw ranks of soldiers. They were human, and they were familiar to him. He recognized the colors and the coat of arms for King Parrish of Mentath. He also recognized the writing on the flesh of the Marked Men.
There were columns of soldiers and scores of Marked Men, and then there was Beron, alone on his side of the equation. He stood unevenly on his human legs, not certain how or why Ariah had decided to remake him in his own image.
A lean man, shorter than he and yet powerfully confident, looked at him and nodded. None of them were smiling. Not a single one.
He nodded back. He had never met Parrish, the king of the Mentath, but he recognized him from the descriptions he’d heard.
“You are Beron. You are the priest to Ariah. I am Parrish. I am the priest to Theragyn. We are allies in what comes next.”
Beron nodded. He did not smile, either. “And where are we to go?”
“North of here. We follow the path the gods were good enough to offer your enemies.”
Beron looked around and saw the frozen remains of the creatures he’d led and the humans he’d killed along with them. It was possible that a few on either side had survived but he had his doubts.
“And what do we do?”
“What we must in order to serve our new gods.”
“Have you a horse? I’d rather not walk this entire distance.”
Parrish gave a half-smile. “I expect we can find something.”
The beast he was offered a few minutes later was one of the finest animals he had ever seen. Powerful, graceful and dressed properly for the weather with a thick coat and armor in the right places. He climbed aboard without any difficulties and the animal held his considerable weight with ease.
“You did this?” Parrish pointed to the remains of the battle that could be seen beyond the ice and snow.
“I had help.”
“Truly?”
“The Undying did their part to kill me.”
“And yet, here you are.”
Beron thought back to the He-Kisshi that Ariah had torn asunder. “With one less of the vile things here to cause us troubles. But I expect they’ll come when the time is right.”
“I am certain of it. We have been prepared for them.”
“Truly?” He frowned at the thought. He’d believed himself well-prepared until the Undying showed up and ruined all of his plans. Again.
“Our master has studied these things and understands there are ways to finish them once and for all. We have but to wait for the right moment. This, too, is part of the plan to end the gods.”
Beron shook his head and tried to hide his smile. “There are plans in place?”
“There have always been plans. Ten times the gods have punished their children for daring to speak out or make plans. They have imprisoned and tortured to make clear who rules this world. What they have not done is convince those they punished.”
Beron nodded his head.
Parrish continued, “They have only cemented the need for change.”
He was not completely sure that Parrish was accurate in his assessments, but he nodded again, just the same.
“Well, I expect we’ll have an answer soon enough. The He-Kisshi like to interfere. They’ve already had their share of conflicts with me and with you, I would wager.”
“It’s not a wager I’d take. I know the results. The Undying have already interfered and caused me to kill a favored son in order to appease the gods.”
Beron, who was sure he had several bastard sons and daughters, merely nodded. If his children were placed before him, he’d not know them from a hundred others. He’d sampled his share of slaves over the years and never felt a need to see if they spawned afterward.
“We should be on the way.”
Parrish gestured with his hand. “We move that way.”
Beron nodded and kicked his horse into step with the king’s own. They each represented a god. That meant, as far as he was concerned, they were equals.
“How far away are they?”
“The Undying or the people we are supposed to support?”
“Either. Both.”
“In both cases I do not know.”
“Then we should ride faster, lest we miss the opportunity to serve our gods.”
Parrish looked at him for a while, an odd smile on his face, and then nodded. A moment later they were moving again, riding toward the north and following a path that had, so far, led only to death.
Chapter Seventeen
The Luxury of Guilt
Brogan
Anna sat near one of the small fires and warmed herself. The air was bitterly cold and she had bundled herself into more layers than seemed possible. Worse, she still managed to catch his eye, even buried under a mountain of furs and clothing.
Brogan sat down near her, carefully looking into the flames.
“What?” She, too, looked at the fire.
“Thank you. That’s all. I wanted to thank you for your help with the ship earlier. The people from it, I mean.”
She shook her head. “What choice? If I’m ever to find my man, I have to stay with you, as he will surely find you before he finds me.”
“Oh, I think he’d be more likely to look for you, Anna. I’m not as significant to him as you are, I’d wager.”
“You are easier to find than I am.”
“How do you suppose?”
“If we were both rocks thrown into the same pond, you would make a bigger splash.”
“I don’t understand.” He frowned. There were times when the woman made no sense to him. Then again, that was true of most of the women he’d met. That was why his Nora had been so very special.
“You are a very loud man, Brogan. You have made an impact on the world that is larger than most have ever seen and you are not done yet.”
“Not by choice.”
She looked his way with an expression that was a perfect mix of humor and contempt and it made him very uncomfortable.
“What?” Did he sound defensive? Yes, he did. He didn’t care for that, either.
“You stride like a giant. You, who have fought gods and Undying without flinching. You, who have fought slavers, cheated slavers and killed slavers without fear of consequence. You walk the world as loudly as you can and you revel in it, even if you don’t like to admit it.”
Brogan shook his head. It wasn’t true.
“I’d rather be at my house, enduring another winter. Waking next to Nora and listening to my children complain that there is nothing to do and all of my stories are old and heard a hundred times.”
Anna’s face softened then. “I know it. I understand it. I would like the same for me and my Desmond and yet here we are. Desmond is missing and yours have been given to the gods.”
He felt the tension in his face and knew his expression was not kind. For a moment he wondered if there was any kindne
ss left in him. It surely did not feel that way.
“I’ll take them back.” His voice was little more than a breathy sigh. “I’ll have them back, or I’ll die trying.”
“You see? I am worried that my husband might be dead. You are worried about whether or not you can take your family back from the gods. I make a splash with my thoughts, but you create gigantic waves with yours.”
“I will not apologize for hating the gods, Anna. I will apologize for any troubles that Desmond has walked into, and if he is gone I will grieve, but I’ll not apologize for hating the gods for what they’ve done.”
She stared at him for a moment and shook her head. “I’d expect no less from you, Brogan.”
“I am sorry for any pain I’ve caused, Anna, and I am grateful to you, but I’ll not stop.”
“Nor would I ask you to.”
He nodded his head and stood. “I expect the Undying to show soon. They have little choice at this point.”
“How do you mean?”
“They’ve sent people and the people have failed. What other choices are there?”
Anna looked at him as if he had surely lost his mind. “There are choices you can’t begin to know.”
Brogan frowned. “Are there other things that serve the gods beyond them?”
“You act as if I have the answers to all the mysteries. In my years studying the Books of Galea I learned one thing above all others, and that is simply that the gods have given answers, but they have not told the whole of the truth with the stories they shared with Galea. They are filled with secrets they did not share and never would.”
He started to ask a question and then stopped himself. Of course they held on to secrets, just as he would if he were training a dozen men as soldiers. They would learn a lot from him, but he would never give away everything he knew and understood.
“Aye. Well said.”
“I do not know what they will bring forth next, but the gods have options you have not seen and they will bring them to bear if they have to. Still, I expect you are right and that the Undying will be their next choice.”
Faceless came toward them, his body little more than a silhouette in the darkness, but as he came closer more of him was revealed and the changes he was going through became more prominent.
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