A Shout for the Dead (16 page)

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Authors: James Barclay

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: A Shout for the Dead
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Mirron thought back over Harban's assertions and Gorian's words and the conclusions scared her. She wanted to be able to talk to Ossie and Ardu. They'd have placed it all in perspective. Beneath the fresh strong life of genastro, there was rot and decay. Death. And with every dip of the oars, it was growing stronger. She shivered.

'Cold?'

She turned from the bow rail. 'No, Paul, I'm fine. Lovely genastro afternoon like this? How could I be cold?'

'You tell me. I know the view's beautiful - and at least this time, I haven't had to drag you on deck to get you to see it - but your study has gone well beyond intricate. What's wrong?'

The mountains sweeping up before them, black, grey and dazzling white weren't beautiful. Their aura was foreboding just like everything else the land had to offer. Warning her away, telling her not to look because she would fear what she found,

'It's hard to say. The energy map of everywhere is unsettled. Jumbled almost like an illness was upon it, but not grey like disease.'

'Then how is it?'

Jhered had tried to understand what the Ascendants felt and saw as no one else. He'd admitted his desire to sample their world just once. This wouldn't be the time.

'Like something core to the way of things has grown beyond its natural proportion and unbalanced everything.'

'Something like dead people walking about the place, you mean?'

Mirron felt herself blush. 'Sorry, I—'

'It doesn't matter but you all do it, you know.'

'Do what?'

'Talk like it's a mystery play and you're working up to the last dramatic line. Just say it, that's my advice.'

'Oh. I see.' Mirron laughed and felt the tension seep out of her.

Jhered put an arm round her shoulders and she snuggled in a little. It felt good. Safe.

'I thought you'd think me mad,' she said.

'Why? Harban said things back in Estorr that sounded insane but your missing son isn't the only reason we're out here, is it? We have to know if he's right or not. And you think he might be. That's not mad, it's frightening.'

'We should be careful in Ceskas,' said Mirron, after a pause. 'More careful, that is.'

Jhered nodded. 'Noted.'

'I don't know what we'll find.'

By the time they arrived, however, she knew the answer to that question too. She walked the deserted streets of Ceskas hugging herself over her cloak. It was a cold day but that barely registered. Wind blew over slushy cobbles, blowing debris against closed doors and shutters. Rats scurried to cover as the Gatherers searched every room, shed and warehouse. They found blood, evidence of struggle and obvious signs that the town had been plundered but there was no one to ask what had happened.

The House of Masks was destroyed, and so was every shrine to Atreskan, Gesternan and Karku gods. That the Tsardon had been here was not in question. Mirron knew that was worrying Jhered deeply. She wasn't great on geography but even she knew this was way too close to secure Conquord lands. Actually, he'd called it an act of war and coming on the back of stories they'd heard in Kirriev about attacks at eastern ports, it sent a shudder through her.

Mirron stood at the central fountain in Ceskas, waiting for the inevitable. The fountain was smashed. And somewhere else the feed pipes had been damaged or were frozen because thete was no water. It stank of urine and excrement this close to so she moved away a few paces. She watched Jhered's Gatherers and her Ascendancy guard emerge from building after building, shaking their heads, shrugging their shoulders and moving on.

She didn't have to wait too long before Jhered and Harkov walked over to her. Her guards moved discreetly aside to let them speak to her. Both men looked bemused, Harkov a little scared. Not emotions she associated with either of them.

'I could have told you before you did all that searching.'

'You did tell us,' said Harkov. 'But we had to search anyway.'

'But it's worse than you think,' said Jhered. 'There's no livestock here. No dogs or cats either. About the former, I am not surprised. But a cat? The Tsardon won't have taken them. No point. So where are they? Only rats and mice. It's like God reached down his hand and scooped them all up. I've never seen anything like it.'

'But the Tsardon might have cleaned this place out for a statement mightn't they?'

'It's not their way,' said Jhered.

'No. They take prisoners but always leave people behind to tell the tale. It's been an effective tactic in the past.' Harkov looked round and shook his head again.

'What do you think, Mirron?' Jhered rubbed a gloved hand over his chin.

'Me?'

'Why not? You sensed something wrong. Are they all dead and walking elsewhere? That's what my people are guessing and who can blame them, eh? It's.as sensible an explanation as anything else right now.'

Mirron almost laughed but caught herself.

'You should listen to those words again, Paul.'

'I know. Ridiculous isn't it? How easily the unbelievable can become real. But that's what you're left with, isn't it, when everything else has been dismissed.' Jhered sucked his top lip. 'I don't like this at all. It feels wrong. And if it feels wrong to me, God-surround-us, it must feel dreadful to you.'

Mirron raised her eyebrows. 'Not here, it doesn't. This is almost like standing in a fallow field. It's had life and will have again. But right now, apart from what's always here, it's dormant. It's up there where the problem is.'

She gestured away to the mountains of Kark. Somewhere in there or maybe beyond, was her son. And Gorian, perpetrating something unspeakable.

'Don't you corrupt him, you bastard.'

'Sorry?'

Mirron sighed. 'Sorry, I didn't realise I said it out loud.' 'What?' asked Jhered.

'Nothing.' The tears threatened, quite suddenly. She felt tight across her chest and the pit in her stomach yawned. 'We should go. I want my son back.'

The enemy would attack uphill over the ice and snow. For four days, they had been gathering. The Karku had watched them from the mouth of the Canas Valley, the only mass entry point into Kark along the border with Tsard. They were not afraid. They knew this would happen. The writings stolen from Inthen-Gor made it inevitable. He had come back and they knew where He wanted to go and who He needed to take.

Harban stood and gazed down on the assembly. The main body of the enemy was marching from the camp spread to the west. Fires still burned bright under dark morning skies. More snow was coming. There were some thousands of foot soldiers forming up.

The others came from the east. The ones who needed no fire or cover. Who stood or sat silent and who marched with no will but with purpose. He knew who they were and who it was that drove them.

Where were the Ascendants?

Harban ruffled his gorthock's head and ears, dragging his fingers through her dense, tough white fur. The beast growled. She was tense, staring at the invaders and unsure of the scents carried on the breeze.

'Come, Drift. Time to be with our people.'

Harban tugged on the gorthock's thick leather collar and she turned. Graceful, powerful, with the speed of a lion and the bulk of a bear. Jaws that could pierce metal. The Karku's most potent weapon.

They began to walk up the valley. Karku with spear, arrow and sling lined both edges. Most appeared grim-faced. So long since a war. Already the mountain was angry. Those taken to the roots this day would not be at peace.

The valley was six hundred feet deep at its mouth, the ground broken and difficult all the way up a sharp slope to the head a mile to the south. The mass of the Karku was clustered there. Their breath mingled in a great cloud around them. Their gorthock, two hundred and more, howled, growled and strained, impatient to attack. The had not smelled the wind like Drift had.

Harban studied his people. Blades, axes and hammers were held in hands still dark with dusas hair. Bare feet were planted firmly in the snow. Mountain men and women. Long-limbed and short-bodied. Enough to repel an army four times their number such was the advantage of height and terrain. The valley was a killing ground and still more Karku arrived.

Facing them were perhaps twice their number but it was no ordinary army. Courage and a willingness to commit hideous acts were the factors that would win this fight.

Harban stood by his army's commander, nodding that all was in place at the valley mouth. The man nodded back, his face betraying his nervousness. He wasn't a true commander. He was no Prosentor of Tsard or General of the Conquord. No Del Aglios. None of them were. How long since any serious threat worth the name? A hundred and seventy years. Border skirmishes and mineral disputes, yes. Little fights quickly resolved. But this. This was an assault on the fabric that bound the Karku. No preparation was adequate.

The gorthock scented enemies, an alien irritant in the nose that dragged their voices to full cry. The howling spread across the army. It was deafening, boosting the blood and calling the mountains to keep them strong. It was all they had. The determination to live on as they always had. And indignation that any should try to take from them.

But along the valley floor came order, discipline and something none had seen the like of before. Harban prayed to stone and sky that he lived to see another dawn.

Mirron retched. Her legs felt leaden and she dropped to her knees. Her hands touched the ground to steady herself but she snatched them away, unable to bear the sick crawling directed through her fingers.

'Exchequer!' called Harkov, kneeling down beside her on the icy slope that led high and deep into Kark. 'Mirron?'

She gasped for air, feeling the sickness surge through her, leaving a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, a thundering in her head and a roiling pain in her stomach. She fought down the nausea. Every muscle shook and she couldn't focus her mind to calm herself. She dared another touch on the ground. Nothing. Just the cold and dormant life beneath her and as far in any direction that she could sense. And away to the north-west, a sense of bleakness covering the earth. That was where it had come from and the knowledge of what it meant brought tears to her eyes.

The column had stopped and Mirron could hear Jhered barking Gatherers and Ascendancy guards out of the way. She pushed herself upright and managed a weak nod at Harkov.

'I'm all right,' she said.

Harkov raised an eyebrow. 'Really?'

She shook her head. The ache was fading from her, letting her think.

'He's started,' she said. 'I think we might already be too late.'

'Mirron?' It was Jhered. 'What's wrong?'

She leaned against him for a moment while her vision swam.

'God-surround-me, that was horrible.'

'What was it?'

'Like tasting rotten meat. Meat that crawled with maggots. It went through my whole body. Dammit but I can still taste it.' She spat a little phlegm on to the snow, watching it sink a little way before it cooled. 'It's him. He's making the dead walk, I know it.'

'Where?'

'Way to the north and west. Days from here. I can't imagine what it will feel like closer to. I've got to work out how to push it away or it'll swamp me.'

Jhered rubbed at the stubble on his chin. It was grey and flecked with white. He was always so smart back on the Hill. Out here though, he became the rough soldier he'd been since his youth.

'How many days?'

'I don't know. Depends if we can find a Karku to take us through the mountains. Still, I'd guess at three days, maybe four.'

'Too many,' said Jhered. 'Far too many. Whatever's happening will be over for good or ill. We can do no more than walk inland until we find the Karku. Persuade them to take us to Yllin-Qvist and Harban. Are you all right to go on?'

Mirron nodded. 'There's not much choice is there?'

'You said it,' said Jhered.

'I wish we had mules like last time.'

Jhered chuckled. 'Had Ceskas been at the height of trade, two hundred mules might have been hard to come by. And they'd have bankrupted the treasury. Thieves. Listen, I want you to be careful. Don't hide those feelings from me. They could help us. Give us warning. But more important, look after yourself. We're going to need you, Mirron. Everyone on this path knows the pain you carry every day your son is missing. We'll walk until we drop but you have to tell me or Harkov when you need to stop. Don't be a martyr, it won't do any of us any good. We're here for you, all of lis. All right?'

Mirron blinked back fresh tears. 'Yes,' she said quietly.

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