Curse: The Dark God Book 2 (11 page)

11

Lust

TALEN WALKED THE PARAPETS of Rogum’s Defense with Legs, watching for Sugar, until the captain of the guard told him if he was going to just walk around, he might as well be useful and help move some builder’s lime up for repairs. Workers sat on platforms that hung down the length of three towers, sealing gaps in the mortar and limewashing the wall.

Talen helped work a crane atop one tower to haul two barrels of lime up. When he finished, there was still no sign of Sugar. The mistress over the washerwomen saw him at the well rinsing the lime powder off his arms and told him some nannies needed milking.

The Mistress was not someone you said no to, and he needed to divert his thoughts, so after washing, he went to the pens. Legs decided to stay by the inner gate and wait.

The goat pens were located on the north side of the outer bailey. In the early morning, those tasked with herding the goats would take them out to the pastures surrounding the fortress and bring them back in the afternoon. Only about a dozen goats were in the pens now, and it was easy to see which nannies needed to be milked. He opened the gate and walked through the wattle fence. The brown and white goats milled about him, and the smell of their Fire and souls called to him.

He groaned inside.

The Mistress carried in a bucket of feed for the chickens and saw him standing there. “You actually get down and squeeze it out,” she said and made the motions with her hands. “It’s called milking.”

“Maybe you should demonstrate?” Talen asked.

The Mistress rolled her eyes. “Take it into the kitchens when you’re done.”

Talen faced the goats again. He wasn’t going to let this craving get the best of him, so he rolled up his sleeves and selected a nanny whose bag was so full it was almost half as big as she was and led her over to the stand. The milking stand looked like a rectangular table that stood about a foot off the ground. It was a little longer and wider than a goat. At one end was the head gate that consisted of two vertical boards with a narrow hole in the middle big enough to comfortably fit a goat’s neck. He moved one board of the head gate to the left, tempted the nanny with a bit of grain to stick her head between the two boards, and then he move the board back and locked her in. He gave her the grain, then took the leather hobble strap hanging on the board, brought the strap around her back legs just above the hocks, and cinched it up nice and tight so it squeezed the ligaments. When he was satisfied she was secure and wouldn’t kick, he fetched a bucket of water and a cloth.

In a neighboring pen, the kid goats gamboled about a tree stump. In this one, another nanny came up and gave him the eye. Her Fire smelled delicious, but he waved her off. “Be gone,” he said.

The goat regarded him.

“Shoo.”

The goat tilted its head and watched him like an old wife watches someone new to the task.

“Fine,” Talen said and turned to the nanny on the stand. He mustered his courage, sat on the stool, and began to wash the nanny’s somewhat hairy udder with a cloth. As soon as he touched her, the smell of Fire and soul doubled. And by the blasted Creators, he wanted it.

The first three squirts of milk from each teat went into a cup. He looked for abnormalities such as clots or blood. When he didn’t find any, he brought the wooden bucket around and went at it, the warm milk squirting into the bottom. She bleated. He cursed. And every second his hunger grew.

Then next nanny hopped right up onto the table. He secured her and went through the whole process again. By the time he finished the third goat, he was beyond frustration. His hunger consumed him, and he had to concentrate like a mad tallystick man to simply get the job done.

He put the lids on the two buckets and hauled a good six quarts of milk back to the inner bailey, passing Legs who was still standing at the gate, which meant Sugar still hadn’t returned. He was now truly worried for her. He went to the kitchens, set the buckets down where the cook directed him to, and walked back out into the bailey.

Regret’s eyes, but this wasn’t right. Sugar missing, and him with these blasted desires for men, horses, and goats—it angered him!

Why had Tenter singled him out? Probably for the same reason the Mother had singled him out down in the caves. He was different, maturing differently than others who had been awakened to their powers. Bred to be that way. Isn’t that what the Devourer had said?

I will not become a villain
, he told himself.
I will not!

But he’d felt the power of the Devourer—whatever sort of creature she was—down in the stone-wight warren. She’d been stunning, an object he’d wanted to worship. He didn’t want to become a villain, but what if he couldn’t help himself? What if that’s just what he was?

He saw Scruff, River’s new horse, tied up outside the smithy, waiting to be shod. Ke had been taking him out on patrol, working with him, which meant Talen had been so flustered with the goats, he’d not even noticed Ke had ridden in.

Despite his name-sake appearance, Scruff was a stellar animal, one of the few horses being made into a firesteed. Talen walked over to the smithy. Scruff nickered at him for a scratch, but Talen wasn’t going anywhere close to another living thing. He skirted around and looked in the doors. Two farriers stood at the fire forming horseshoes. He asked where Ke was, and they directed him to the great hall.

Like all of the buildings in the inner fortress, the great hall was built snug against the inside wall. It was a large building with a high ceiling and four hearths big enough for men to stand in them. When Talen entered the hall, he found two of the long tables laden with leftover food from last night’s festivities. Twenty or thirty people milled about, eating. Ke was among them, standing next to one of the tables.

Talen made his way over. Ke looked up, chewing some morsel with delight. “You’re a little black thunder cloud.”

“We’ve got to talk,” Talen said.

Ke, the big bull, shooed a few flies away and picked up a pie, a small thing no bigger than a plum. He held it out to Talen. “Try this. It will make you feel better.”

Talen didn’t want to eat, but he accepted it and took a bite and immediately regretted it. It was a nasty little wad of leek with a few miserly grains of unidentifiable meat hiding in the corners. “Who brought these?”

“The rat catchers from Lind,” Ke said. He picked up another and plopped the whole thing in his mouth. He chewed, let out a sigh of satisfaction, then picked up another.

Talen shook his head—there was no accounting for taste.

Ke’s hair was cropped short. He wore a rust cloak. The gash on his face from the battle down in the bowels of the ancient stone-wight warren had healed. The stitching made from sheep guts had been removed weeks ago, but a scar from the gash and suture holes remained. Scars remained on everyone that had been there, and not all of them were visible like Ke’s. Or as lauded. He looked like he had some brutish pin cushion for a head, yet that seemed to attract quite a number of the women.

A small black and white dog sat very politely by the table. He looked up at Talen and wagged his tail.

Talen tossed him the remainder of his leek wad and turned back to Ke. “Something’s wrong.”

Ke folded his muscular arms.

Talen motioned for Ke to step to the side, away from the others in the hall. Then he related the events as he knew them, including Felts’s betrayal. Ke shook his head when he heard about Rooster and Shroud. He rubbed his face. “Felts won’t be the last to turn traitor.”

Talen said, “The next one might be me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lust,” Talen said.

Ke looked down at him. “What?”

“It’s overrated. I can tell you that. Maybe the Divines are speaking a little bit of truth about becoming sleth. My passions are running amok. Goats and horses. Black Knee.”

Ke looked at Talen as if he’d sprouted another head.

“It’s not natural,” said Talen. “And don’t look at me that way.”

“Brother, you’re a strange little man. If I were going to go that way, it wouldn’t be with Black Knee. He’s as ugly as they come.”

“No,” said Talen. “It’s the Fire. I can feel it in every touch. It isn’t normal lust. It can’t be.” There was no blood-thumping glamour in it. He knew what it was to desire someone physically, and this was different. “Here,” he said and grasped Ke’s big hand. His hunger surged. “There, do you feel that?”

“I feel nothing.”

“Exactly.
You
feel nothing. But I feel an appetite. I can smell your soul like I can that ham roasting over the fire. It doesn’t matter who or, apparently, what it is. I just finished milking goats, and the whole time it was there, looping about me like the smell of freshly baked bread. I’m not right.”

“Well, that’s not news,” Ke said. “You’ve never been right.”

“Ke,” he said, exasperated.

River entered the hall. She spotted them and walked over. “What are you two stewing?” she asked.

Ke shrugged. “Our brother here fancies Black Knee.”

Talen groaned. This wasn’t funny. “Something’s off inside of me,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I can feel the Fire in those I touch. And I want it. It calls to me. I’m telling you: I don’t think the monster put all my pieces back correctly.”

River considered him. “It’s not uncommon to go through a period of confusion, although that usually occurs when you go from candidate to full dreadman. I told you the awakening triggers a second change in the body, not unlike the change from boy to man. Your body becomes different. You feel different things. We all go through it. That’s probably all this is. You’ll just have to ride it out.”

“You say that, but did you feel this when you awakened?” he asked. “Do you know anyone who has?”

“I remember when I was first awakened,” said Ke. “For me it was euphoria followed by moods as black as the underside of night. One day Da found me in a corner of the barn loft. I had just learned to diminish, to slow the rate of my Fire until I was barely breathing. It’s a very hard thing to do, but can sometimes save your life. Imagine being trapped under water. You can diminish yourself to the point where you almost don’t need breath anymore. So I should have been celebrating my accomplishment, but there was no joy in me. I wanted only to be smudged out, forever. Once in a while the darkness still comes, but I’ve grown past it.”

“You’re telling me it doesn’t go away?”

Ke said, “I’m telling you that when the wild patterns fall into place, brother, you’ll never want to go back. It’s like trying to learn how to swim and you’re forever struggling and choking. And then one day you finally relax, and you’re suddenly diving down to the emerald weeds in the pool below the falls like an otter.”

“For all we know,” River said, “this is right as rain.”

“And what was your trial?” Talen asked River.

“Trial?” Ke said in disgust. “I think she suffered a burp and a bit of indigestion. It always comes easy for her.”

“Oh, it does not. Look, the storm will come, and then it will pass.”

“We hope,” Ke said.

“And if not?” Talen asked. He’d been changed, guided by the Devourer herself from conception to fit her terrible plans. His own mother had tried to fix the changes, but had died trying. Nobody had any idea of what he was or what he would become.

“We roll with it,” said Ke. He put his strong hand on Talen’s shoulder. Talen flinched at the delicious smell of his soul, but Ke’s eyes bore into him. “I know you’re a little disoriented. That comes with the territory.” He motioned at River with his chin. “Trust us. Nothing’s going to happen to you. And if it does, we’ll be there.”

“Right,” Talen said.

“And if you turn into something abominable, well, we’ll get it over quick. Cut your head off just to be sure the job’s done right.”

River gave him a look.

“He knows I’m joking,” Ke grinned, “mostly.”

Mostly was right. River herself had tried to kill him down in the caves. He had no doubt, if it came to it, that both of them were prepared to try it again.

Ke elbowed him. “Come on, smile. Life’s meant to be lived. Even when the seas get high.” He pointed at some boiled crawfish a good five inches long. “There’s some living right there.” He picked one up and cracked it open with his thumb and forefinger, exposing the red-tinged flesh inside. He sucked a bit of meat out. “Lovely,” he said and chewed. “Have one.”

Talen sighed.

“Fill your belly,” Ke said. “And I’ll tell you what I found today. Because dreadmen and goaty lust aren’t the only odd things to show up in the last twenty-four hours.”

“It wasn’t goat lust,” Talen said.

Ke waved the comment off. He pointed at a small pie filled with cheese, onion, and mushroom. “Eat that.”

Talen picked one of the pies up. He took a bite. It didn’t help.

Ke said, “We had a report this morning of something in the Sourwood River. It came sniffing about the hot pool. We went to investigate.”

The Sourwood was the river that ran next to Rogum’s Defense. A hot spring ran down the bank at a bend in the river, and a pool had been at the confluence. It was a favorite spot for Shim’s dreadmen to relax. “And?” Talen prompted him.

“Two miles up we saw it. A massive shadow under the water. It was huge, thirty or forty feet long at least. And it was a good thing the men in the pool had gotten out. It certainly had the other fish spooked. The carp sprang in bunches into the air, trying to get out of its path.”

“A whale?”

“None that we see around here. And when have you ever heard of a whale coming up the Sourwood or even the Lion and scaring the fish?”

“Never,” said River.

“We followed it for a mile or so,” Ke continued, “and then it was gone.”

“Back to the bay?” asked River.

“Or down so deep in the river we couldn’t see it.”

“So much for the pools,” Talen said. He’d actually been thinking about going to take a dip.

“Wurms have been sighted at the borders of the land as well,” said River.

“So we have our hands full of things to worry about,” Ke said. He turned to Talen. “Hold your course. It will pass. And now I need to report to Uncle.”