The Dark God: Servant Part 17

"They're here!" Talen shouted. "Behind the old house!"

Nettle's eyes went wide. Talen motioned for Nettle to take one side; he'd take the other. Nettle nodded, and then they both approached the old house. It was the first place Talen's father and mother had built. Talen had slept in it now and again until a snake had come wiggling through the ceiling one night to land on him. Such were the hazards of sod roofs. Now it was only used to store things and shelter the dogs who had dug their warren underneath the old floorboards.

Talen and Nettle split apart, giving the house a wide enough berth, positioning themselves so that each covered two of the house's four walls.

"Nothing," said Nettle.

Where could they have gone? Talen realized he'd given the creature the opportunity to slip in the front door of the house both this and the time before.

He swung his bow and pointed it at the door.

"Open it," Talen said to Nettle.

River called out from the house. "Talen? What's going on?"

"We've got them in the old house!" he yelled back.

Talen nodded at the door. "Go on. Open it."

Nettle looked at the door. "Right," he said. "Cover me." Then he grabbed the handle, shoved the door in, and stepped back.

"There's no use hiding," said Nettle. "Come out where we can see you."

Nothing moved.

"Queen," Talen called, hoping that she hadn't already been killed by the creatures.

A few moments pa.s.sed, and then Queen wriggled out of the dog warren and came to him.

All this time in the warren, Talen thought, and not one bark. Something was very wrong. It was if the dogs were blind and deaf.

"Stu, girl!" Talen said to Queen and pointed at the open door. "Stu!"

Queen looked at the house and sniffed, but then she turned away and came to him wagging her tail.

"Are you sure it went in there?" Nettle asked.

Ke and River walked out into the yard, Ke with nothing but his underclothes on. "What are you hollering about?"

"We've got ourselves a hatchling," said Nettle.

"Two," said Talen.

"Where?" Ke demanded.

Talen pointed at the open door, and to his horror, Ke walked right in.

Ke looked around, turned, and held his hands out. "Nothing in here," he said. "Goh, you're an idiot."

But Talen had seen them. Right here. Where else could they be? Then he looked at the dog warren, and everything came clear.

"They're underneath," he said to Nettle. "With the dogs!"

Talen ran to the hole where the side of the house met the ground and pointed his arrow into the blackness.

"Bring the torch."

"No," said Ke.

But Nettle paid him no mind. Talen took the torch and knelt to the side of the hole. It was definitely wide enough for the girl and boy to get through. He knew because he'd gone down himself a couple of times, but who would have thought they would be down there? He stuck the torch down as far as he dared.

It illuminated a leg that quickly drew itself back into the shadow. Talen scrambled back and dropped the torch. "Goh," he said. "They've subverted the dogs." He drew his bow and pointed it at the mouth of the hole.

"Put that down," said Ke.

"You can't doubt me now," said Talen.

"River," said Ke and motioned at the mouth of dog warren with his head.

River calmly walked to the side of the house and knelt by the dog warren.

"Stop!" Talen warned. "Get away!"

Ke's hands closed around the bow. "Give me the bow, and shut up."

"Didn't you see the leg?"

Ke yanked the bow from his hands.

"What are you doing?"

"Get them," Ke said to River.

Talen watched in horror as River leaned forward, then crawled part way into the blackness of the hole. He expected to hear her cry out or be pulled entirely in. But after a few moments, she backed out and extended her hand to help a girl and then a smaller boy out. The girl had long black hair and a scar on her cheek. She looked to be about Talen's age, maybe a bit older. The boy stared off at nothing.

The girl looked at him with no fear. She looked at him like a bird might a bug. Talen noticed she was wearing River's trousers all rolled up on the leg.

"Douse that torch," said Ke. And when Nettle didn't move, Ke s.n.a.t.c.hed it and ground its flame out in the dirt.

"What is this?" Talen demanded.

"Will you shut up," hissed Ke. He studied the woods.

Deep in the woods someone, most likely hunters, shouted.

"Get inside," whispered Ke. "Now!"

Talen looked at his brother and sister. They were harboring sleth. They were risking the anger of the Nine Clans and putting all of their lives in danger. Had they too been subverted like the dogs?

When Talen didn't move, Ke handed the bow to River, and then he grabbed Talen by the nape of the neck with one hand and the back of his trousers by the other. Talen struggled, but Ke's grip was like iron, and he marched Talen back into the house.

Talen watched in dismay as the girl hatchling led her brother to the hearth. When they were all in, River quietly barred the door and shuttered the window. She faced Ke, "I told Da it would never work."

Someone called out again in the woods.

River motioned for everyone to be still.

Ke turned to Talen and pitched his voice low. "If you've brought a pack of idiot hunters down on us, I'm going to kill you."

"Kill me?" Talen hissed back. "Kill me? You two and Da, it appears, have already seen to that."

"Shush," said River.

They waited and listened. Queen barked twice and then fell still. Talen strained to hear what was going on outside, but heard nothing. Of course, that didn't mean a pack of hunters were not moving now to surround the yard or running off to alert the Bailiff.

Talen and Nettle stood away from the girl and boy, watching them with alarm. After what seemed like hours, River opened the shutters enough to peer out. After a few moments she closed them again. "Queen's right in front of the door. She would have barked if someone were out there. I think we're safe."

"She didn't bark at these two," said Talen.

River left the window and moved to the girl's side. She stroked the girl's hair like one might a niece or sister. "There's no need for barking. Talen, this is Sugar."

She put a hand on the boy's shoulder. His hair shot up like a wild man's. "And this is her blind brother, Legs."

15.

Purity ARGOTH DID NOT want one of the guards on the walls of the Shoka fortress, jittery from the attacks at the village of Plum, to mistake Hogan for an enemy and kill him. The guards had their orders, but it was night and the moon was only half full. And Hogan was Koramite. So Argoth waited atop the barbican, watching the roads for his brother-in-law and friend.

He brought a sprig of spearmint to his nose. Serenity, his youngest daughter, had tied it to a string and made yet another necklace for him. He could never say no to wearing her gifts. In his pockets he carried at least a dozen tokens of affection-a small black stone with a slash of red in it, a finely woven lock of hair, desiccated bits of flowers, the pit of a plum. He inhaled the fine, strong scent of the mint.

Behind him rose the first of two rings of defense. More than seventy years ago, the early colonists had wisely located the fortress here on a wide outcropping of rock that capped one of the three hills of Whitecliff. One side of the hill sloped to the town. The backside of the hill, consisting of cliffs and exceedingly narrow slopes, dropped straight to the sea.

The first structure had been a simple timber tower and palisade, but that had been torn down decades ago. In its place they'd built a fortress made of two roughly rectangular walls, one inside the other. The outer wall stood twenty feet high. The inner wall, placed almost thirty yards back from the outer wall, stood double that height.

Tonight, at the base of the outer wall, guards with dogs patrolled the dry moat, expecting a sleth attack. Their silhouettes stood out against the whitewashed walls of the fortress. The Shoka had learned the whitewas.h.i.+ng trick from an old Mungo slave who had won his freedom: whitewash the bottom half of the walls to make it easier for defenders to see below at night, but leave the top unwashed, allowing the defenders to use the cover of darkness.

They used the idea on the ramparts as well, painting the walkways white to allow the men to navigate without torches. As long as the moon shone there would be no torches on the wall. Not a lamp. Not a whisper of light that might ruin a guard's night vision except in the one tower where men were eating.

The distant sound of laughter carried down from the tower. Then a guard somewhere up on the outer wall called out, having spotted movement in the town.

Argoth looked out toward the town. In the distance he could see the dark, squat towers of the town wall. Closer in and off to the left stood the temple of the Glory of Mokad on its hill. It was too dark to see, but within the round, domed structure stood the altar of sacrifice where the Divines drew Fire. Directly behind the altar stood the raised seat of the Glory. And behind the seat stood the statues of the seven creators in a semi-circle looking down upon the altar.

During the festival of gifts, seven fifteen-foot statues would be made of wood and erected around the temple. They would then be paraded in a long procession to the fortress and then to the sea. Seven statues to represent the seven Creators.

Each would be festooned with the creations for which He or She was responsible. The first and greatest was smeared over with rocks and clay. The second was in the form of a tree, decorated with garlands of seaweed, flowers and sheaves of grain; the third had the horns and hides of animals and eyes made of b.u.t.terfly wings; the fourth wore the skins of sharks and whales; the fifth bore great wings upon its back and was clad in feathers; the sixth was in the form of a man with a face of gold. These were the six, dangerous as they may be, who brought life. The seventh, made to symbolize Regret, was misshapen and black. Upon its head sat a crown of thorns, and about its chest was woven a breastplate made from the bones of a thousand animals.

There were men and women who bound themselves to Regret and wors.h.i.+pped him openly. And maybe the creature that killed the harvest master in the village of Plum was one such. But in all his long years, Argoth had only found a handful who gave themselves to darkness in that way. Mostly, Argoth found Regret worked in more subtle ways, coming to you smiling and with an open hand so that you served him and never once thought you were doing anything but standing in the light.

That's how it had been with him before he found the Order. In his own way, he had been a servant of Regret, even though he didn't know it at the time. But that was behind him. He was now, bless the Six, part of the Order. And the Order would get to the bottom of what was happening here with Purity and this monster.

Down at the base of the temple hill a light moved along a dark street. It pa.s.sed behind a number of dark homes. Then it reappeared on the fortress road. Whoever held the torch rode a horse and was accompanied by other men.

A half minute more and Hogan rode into the torchlight at the base of the gate road. On a mount next to Hogan sat one of the barbican watchmen. The man called out his name and rank then said, "We have delivered Hogan, bowmaster of the Koramites."

"He's mine," Argoth called down. "Dismount, Bowmaster. Then proceed."

Argoth descended the stairs from the top of the barbican. As he rounded the last set of stairs the voices of the guards below carried up the stair well.

"What's the warlord doing letting that thing among us? Who can tell which of them is part of the sleth nest?"

"Good lord, man, it's Captain Argoth's brother-in-law."

"I don't care; this isn't right-"

Argoth scuffed his boot on a stone step and the conversation fell silent. Argoth waited, then rounded the last steps and walked into the main pa.s.sageway and then out to the front of the barbican to stand with the five guards standing posted there. Hogan dismounted then walked the ramp alone. When he reached the top, his escort turned to the stables, Hogan's mule in tow.

Argoth could have ignored the guards' earlier comments, but he chose not to. "Do you know what I love about that Koramite?"

"Zu?" said the most senior of the guards.

"Not his might, nor the many Bone Face kills to his name. But his loyalty."

"Yes, Captain," said the guard.

"Mark him," said Argoth. "I would rather have that one loyal Koramite at my side than a whole company of backbiters."

"Yes, Captain," said the guard. "Of course."

Hogan walked the rest of the way to the barbican gate. The guards stood attentively as he joined Argoth, then the two of them walked through the gate, under the murder holes, and out the other side to the wooden drawbridge that led from the barbican, over the dry moat, and to the first gate of the fortress. The fortress gate stood open before them like the dark maw of a giant beast, the raised portcullis looking like a sharp row of teeth.

A set of guards with mastiffs stood just inside that mouth out of sight, waiting and watching for any enemy that slipped past the outer defenses.

On the drawbridge, away from the guards, Hogan ran his fingers through his beard braids and said, "I will hate to lose this tree."

The Order patterned itself after an aspen tree. Aspens sent runners under the ground that would shoot up saplings, which in turn would grow and send out runners of their own. A grove of aspens could cover acres and acres, and yet, they were not separate trees. They were all connected to each other at the root. And so it was with the Order. Each area where the Order was established had a Root, a trio of leaders.h.i.+p, that governed the tree and branches that might grow in that area. Hogan was the chief Root here, Argoth the second. Matiga, whom many called the Creek Widow, was the third.

Of course, the guards wouldn't call the grove an "order." To them all combinations of people such as Argoth and Hogan were nests, tangles, or murders. For some combinations those were appropriate terms. But not for those of the Order. Nevertheless, the guards would be horrified to know that a Root of the Grove of Hismayas was about to walk right past them.

A single tree might be lost, but unless those that hunted the Order-the Divine Seekers and their dreadmen-pulled up the whole grove, the Roots would grow another tree somewhere else, and another and another, until the Order filled the earth. Of course, some trees had to be culled to protect the others. Purity was a tree in the Grove, and he and Hogan had to decide if she was to live or die, for the Grove could not be risked.

"Did you contact Matiga?" Argoth asked.