Mortals & Deities (24 page)

Looking out over the endless grasslands, Klain experienced a strange, primeval pull. For the first time in his miserable existence, he looked out over what should have been his home. Low hills rolled off in each direction, the panoramic view broken only by the occasional squat, gnarled tree. The knee-high grass, a golden brown color—almost a perfect match to the color of his fur—bent in the constant breeze that blew from the west. A hint of salt, not as strong as when they still traveled the Diamond Point-Mocley road that followed the banks of the Glonlore Bay, clung to the air. Three days out of Mocley the expedition had turned inland, traveling over virgin ground.

“Timms says this land is populated by a nomadic tribe that will kill anyone they find.” Charver Vimith, his long blond hair blowing into his face, looked down from his broad-chested mount at Klain.

Due to the slow speed of the wagons, Klain remained upright, walking on his hindpaws next to the boy. “Did he, now?”

“Aye. The Asgarthians. They are said to breed the best horses, as well.”

The boy’s enthusiasm gave Klain an inner joy he had never known. It surprised him that he held such affinity for Charver, yet he could not deny the feelings. “If they kill all they meet, how does anyone know they breed the best horses?”

Removing his foot from its stirrup, Charver nudged Klain on his shoulder. “Because they sell them at market at the end of each autumn. My father has purchased a few, though they are mostly used in the races at the Coliseum.”

The boy had begged Klain to take him to the horse races that were held each moon. The thought of attending the Coliseum as a spectator, however, held little appeal for Klain. The wagon in front of them came to a stop, forcing his young charge to pull hard on his mount’s reins to avoid smashing into the back of it. Stepping out to the side, Klain saw that all the wagons in front of them were stopped, and looking over his shoulder, that those behind were being waved to a halt as well. “Seems we have reached a spot your father feels will make a good campsite for the eve.”

Slipping from his horse, the boy draped his reins over a large hook on the back of the wagon. “Great! Let us go and explore!” With that, he ran out into the tall grass.

Looking back at the horse who stared at him with wild, wide eyes full of fear, Klain shook his head. “The boy may have ridden you all day. I, however, have walked and am tired.” When the horse did not respond, he turned and followed his charge out into the sea of brown grass.

The wagon train had halted in a relatively low indention in the land and it did not take long for Klain to lose sight of it. Charver had raced up and down at least two hills while Klain kept up his steady pace behind, though the boy had not topped the third. When Klain reached the top of the second rise, he saw why. At the bottom of the hill sat a small pond, the grass that surrounded it still a dull green color, hanging on to life as long as it could. No streams fed into the pond, and looking around, he could not fathom how any water could collect in such a desolate landscape.

Charver had knelt down next to the pond and was holding his small belt knife in his hand as Klain approached. “What have you found, little Human?”

When the boy did not respond, Klain realized something was wrong and came to a stop several paces away. Trying to keep his voice low—he could not quite achieve a whisper as Humans did—he took a step forward. “Charver, what is wrong?”

The boy sat fixated on a wet log a little thicker than Klain’s arm. Once Klain saw his face, however, he noticed that the boy’s eyes were as wide as his horse’s had been. Glancing around, Klain saw no immediate danger.

Then, the log slid forward.

The grass behind Charver parted and the massive head of a serpent, easily as big as both of Klain’s paws combined, rose into the air. Its tongue licked out in rapid succession as it tasted the back of the boy’s neck. Though Klain could not see how the piece in front of Charver connected to the head, he knew for certain it all belonged to the same animal and could not guess how long the thing must be. “Charver. I want you to listen to me. Do not move. Do not even make a sound.” He took another step closer, though the snake did not take its attention from the boy.

The snake continued to rise up out of the grass and slither its way around the side of Charver, as if it wanted to look him in the eyes before it struck.

Klain took another step closer.

As it swung around to the front of the boy, it turned its back to Klain and he took another step closer.

The boy let out a shaky whimper when the thing’s tongue grazed the side of his cheek. With a raspy hiss, the jaws of the snake parted and two fangs tilted forward from the depths of its mouth. A thick liquid oozed down and dribbled out the side.

The snake jerked its head back to strike and Klain pounced.

Digging the claws of his left paw into the snake’s underjaw, he could do nothing to stop his momentum from carrying them on into the pond. Charver flinched when Klain struck, and tried to leap back, only to be dragged into the pond with them as the snake’s body slammed into his side.

Landing in the pond, he plunged into its depths, completely submerging under the surface. Fear gripped him even as he hung onto the snake’s head. Kicking out a leg, he felt no bottom. Something slid past his chest, wrapped around him and squeezed. The suddenness and force of the grip caught him by surprise and the majority of his air whooshed from his lungs before he could flex his chest muscles. Pulling the head to him, he bit down with all his might. The creature compressed with unbelievable force, and in the pain of what felt like his ribs breaking, he clenched his jaws harder. The salty taste of blood flooded his mouth, and a hollow crack muffled by the water, reverberated in his ears. The snake loosened its grip from his chest. Spitting out the head, Klain pushed the animal from around his waist.

Looking up, he saw a small circle of light high over his head. His lungs burned and fought to pull in air, though he knew if he allowed them their desire, it would mean his death. Never had he been in this much water before, though his arms and legs kicked as if they knew what they should do. Keeping his eyes fixed on the circle of light, he watched it grow larger even as he realized he would never make it before his lungs forced him to take a breath.

When he broke the surface and sucked in the sweet air of the grasslands, he wanted to weep. Thrashing around like a half drowned rat, Klain paddled his way to the side of the pond. He whipped out a paw and grabbed a bundle of grass. Looking about, his panic filled him anew. “Charver! Charver!”

“Here.” A small cough sounded from somewhere behind him and he adjusted his grip to turn. There, a few paces away, he saw the boy clinging to his own patch of grass.

Using the grass as handles to move along the bank, Klain made his way to the boy. Holding onto the bank, he reached out and grabbed Charver, pulling him in tight against his chest. “Are you hurt?”

“Nix! Yet, there is no bottom and I cannot pull myself out!” Terror filled the boy’s voice.

“Shh. It is all right now. I am here.” Klain stroked the back of Charver’s head for a moment, trying to calm him down. “Here.” Taking an extra large amount of grass in one paw, Klain lowered his other to the boy’s waist. “Use the grass to pull while I lift you out.” It took the last of Klain’s strength, yet finally the boy lay panting on the flat ground.

Reaching out as far as he could, Klain grabbed a second pawful of grass to pull himself from the water. The grass ripped from the ground, however, and he almost slid back into the depths of the pond. Gasping for breath, he waved Charver away. “Go, fetch help. Men and ropes.” The boy nodded and ran back to the wagons. “And hurry!” He was not sure the boy heard that last order because it came out in a croak. He was exhausted!

Bubbles rippled the surface of the water just behind him and he looked around wildly. His hindpaws kicked the side of the pond and he found that it sloped away from him like an inverted funnel. Something slid past his thigh and he jerked. Slamming his free arm down into the water next to him, his clenched paw struck something firm, yet fleshy. A length of black snake broke the surface and he struck it with all the strength he could summon. His claws sank into the exposed side, cutting four deep gashes. The animal did not react. The head of the serpent floated up next to Klain and stared at him with dull, lifeless eyes. Two large holes where Klain’s fangs had sunk into the top of its skull leaked blood and bits of gore into the surrounding water.

Taking a deep breath—he cursed himself for being so shaken—he watched as the rest of the dead snake floated to the surface around him.

“Over here!” Charver’s voice rang out over the open range. Within moments, Charver, Rohann, and Timms stood on the edge of the pond looking down at him.

Kneeling down just out of Klain’s reach, Timms laughed. “I thought you smelled bad dry, Kith. Yet, you are much worse smelling when wet!”

“Give over, Timms.” Rohann turned and waved to the other men heading their way.

With a strong rope and several men, they pulled Klain from his watery prison. Rolling to his back, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked back at the snake. “That water pit has no bottom.”

“Aye, there are ponds like this all over the Asgarthian plains. Though they all have bottoms. Some as deep as thirty paces. They are fed from underground rivers that flow from the Morlis Mountains.” Timms walked past Klain to stand on the edge of the pond. “That has to be the biggest Niyoka I have ever seen. It must be at least six paces long!” Turning his head, he looked down at Klain. “You impress me more and more, Master Klain.”

Rohann joined him at the edge. “Aye. That is quite impressive.” Flicking a finger at the group of men who had helped pull Klain from the water, he pointed back to the snake. “Get that out of there. I want to take it with us.”

Klain found his master’s order odd, however, once the men had fished the snake from the pond and had it stretched out onto the grass, he had to admit it was impressive. The thing stretched easily twice as long as he stood tall. At its thickest point, it was about as wide as his thigh.

Organizing the men, Rohann had them pick up the snake and carry it back to the wagon train. “I am happy to say that you have once again earned your pay, Master Klain. Charver told me how you grabbed the thing just before it struck.” Clapping a hand to his shoulder, the man grinned. “I did not even know you knew how to swim.”

Repressing a shiver—memories of his body’s desire to fill his lungs with water still hung fresh in his mind—Klain looked the man in the eye. “I do not.” With water still dripping from his fur, he stepped past Rohann and headed back to the wagons.

At least now I know what will be haunting my dreams for many moons to come.

The gates of the Rillion villa came into view, and Arderi Cor’s heart sank. He knew he could get the supplies he and his brother would need. It was Ragnor that was the issue. In the short time Arderi had spent at the villa, the large black Silawaian had become more than a mentor; he was a friend as well. How could he tell him that everything he believed may not be exactly the truth? That everything the Tat’Sujen Order stood for may be false?

It was late. The small yellow moon, Treynor, had set, leaving only Sainor to light up the darkness with its silvery luminance. The fleeting thought of just walking in and taking the horses and supplies crossed his mind, though he did not think he could stoop to thievery. Besides, he felt the Order owed him at least this much. If someone really was waiting in Sar’Xanthia who could answer his brother’s questions, mayhaps they knew how to change him back as well. Cure him of being a Mah’Sukai. This would stop the Order from hunting him. So, in that manner of thinking, any supplies they provided would help to rid the Plane of the Mah’Sukai. Basically, the same as killing him, only without the killing part.

Besides, Alant seems sane. Mayhaps whatever the Elmorians did to him is not the same as if he had actively sought out becoming a Mah’Sukai on his own. Or, they have simply lied to me.

If lie they did, then any supplies he procured would be their punishment. Though, thinking of Larith and Rinear, or Ragnor and Clytus for that matter, none of them seemed the type to lie. Larith was a bit eccentric, that was for certain. Arderi felt more comfortable thinking mayhaps they had simply gotten things wrong. His brother was not a monster. And even if what happened to him eventually changed him into one, it had not been of his choosing. He was not going to let his brother die for something that was not his fault. Whatever he had to do, however far he had to travel…

I will pay what needs be paid!

Reaching the gate, he looked around the courtyard. All was quiet. Pirra, the young man who stood watch through the eve was not in sight. Truth be told, Pirra was several winters older than Arderi, yet Arderi saw him as younger than he. Arderi tried to keep his voice low so as not to wake anyone in the villa. “Pirra.” He flinched when his call echoed though the silent courtyard.

Within moments, Pirra came out of the barn. “Hail, Master Arderi. You are back late this eve.” Pirra was a scrawny stick of a man. Acne had scarred his face, and even though he was still young, most of his dark hair had vacated the front half of his head. It was doubtful any woman would find him attractive.

“Aye. I did not mean for my business to keep me away so long. It will be good to be in bed.” It still seemed odd to Arderi that none of the staff knew anything of the Tat’Sujen Order. Only Ragnor did, though Arderi suspected Clytus’ widow, Mis’am Rillion, knew as well. The rest believed the Rillions ran a mercenary troop. Which they did. Or at least did until Clytus had gotten the majority of the men, along with himself, killed. Everyone here had been told that Arderi was a distant cousin of Clytus’. This pacified them. He had learned that a distant cousin staying at the villa was not uncommon.

Once Pirra let him in, he headed directly to his room. He lay down, certain he would get little sleep this night—the events that had transpired this eve still overwhelmed him. Still, he knew he needed at least some sleep before they left on the morrow.

He was correct, of course. Lying in bed for what seemed like aurns, his mind raced. First, he busied himself making mental notes of what supplies they would need. Next, he mulled over the conversation he would have with Ragnor.—convincing his mentor not only to give him what he needed, yet also to let him go alone. He pondered all this in great detail, staring at the shadowed ceiling. When sleep finally took him, it felt like only moments had passed before someone shook him awake.

“You slept in your clothes last night? Were you out so late?” Ragnor stood smiling down at him.

Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Aye, Master De’haln. I was out a bit late.”

Ragnor turned and headed for the door. “Well, up with you, lad. Mistress Di’Anty do have firstmeal on the table. You know how she gets if you let her food grow cold.”

He watched the black man leave before he rose and washed his face in the basin. Grabbing his pack—he had put everything he owned in the bag last eve—he headed down to eat.

The kitchen sat empty save for the cook, and Arderi realized it was much later than he had thought. A plate of steaming eggs and ham sat on the counter waiting on him, and he sat at the stool in front of it.

When she finished rummaging through the cabinet, Darma turned and smiled one of her large, motherly smiles. “Well, it seems you finally decided to wake this fine day, huh?”

A sheepish grin sprang to him before he could stop it. “Aye, Mis’am Di’Anty. It seems Master De’haln knew I stayed out late last eve and let me sleep in.”

“Aye, he did at that.” A frown crept to her face. “He babied Clytus much the same.” With a shake of her head, she pointed to his plate. “Hurry and eat before it gets cold. Eggs are just not as tasty once they lose their heat.”

Her statement made his grin grow. “Aye. My thanks to you. I am starving.” Just as he took a bite, a small brown-headed boy came running in.

Though Sindian was still small for his age, Arderi marveled at how fast he had recovered from the ailment he had seen in the boy the first time they met. Not six moons gone, the boy could barely sit up in bed without a fit of coughing racking his skinny frame. He remained skinny, as most boys of seven winters were. Still, he had filled out considerably after the Shapers healed him. His stamina had risen to that of any boy his age. He looked so much like his father that it gave Arderi a mix of both joy and sadness each time he came near. “Hail, Master Cor. And good morn. Can I watch you and Master De’haln practice swords again this morn?”

Reaching out and ruffling his hair—he always hated it when someone had done that to him when he was Sindian’s age, yet he could not resist doing it himself—Arderi finished swallowing the food in his mouth. “I am afraid there will be no sword practice this day, Sindian.”

“Really?” The big booming voice of Ragnor made both boys jump. “And why would that be?”

Arderi had meant to broach this subject at a time of his choosing. Not with a fork stuffed into his mouth. Swallowing, he picked up the cup of cold honeyed-milk that Mis’am Di’Anty placed in front of him and took a long drink. When he set the empty cup down, he stood. “My thanks to you, Mis’am Di’Anty.” Turning, he pointed toward the front of the house. “Could we speak in private, Master De’haln?”

Following the Silawaian out to the front courtyard, a pit developed deep in Arderi’s stomach. Of all the scenarios that had played out in his head last eve, this was not one of them. When they reached the fountain, Ragnor turned. “Aye, lad. What is it that be on your mind?”

“I—” And just like that, everything he had planned to say while lying in bed last night seemed wrong. How could he have thought he could convince this man to give him horses and supplies—enough to sustain three people for at least a moon—and not get him strung up by his ankles?

“You found something last eve while you were out, I be guessing.” Ragnor crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “Be at ease, lad. There be no shame if you found this Mah’Sukai and were too afraid to follow him. I be no certain I would have done different. At least now we know what area of the city he be in. Just tell me what happened and we will go out together and see what can be done.”

Then Arderi understood. The plan had been for Arderi to find the Mah’Sukai and follow him. Try and see where he hid. One lone young man walking the city would attract much less attention than two. Plus, Ragnor was fairly well known. Once Arderi had tracked the Mah’Sukai and found out his location, he was to return and tell Ragnor. The fact that he decided to confront their target last night had been spur of the moment. He became so afraid at the time that he had simply reacted. One moment he had been sure he would never find the Mah’Sukai, the next he had followed him into a dark alley. “Nix, Master De’haln. It is not that.”

“You did no find this Mah’Sukai, then?”

The thought of lying to this man made Arderi sick. Yet, he could think of no way to answer the man’s question truthfully. “Nix. I did not find him. I think he is leaving the city, however.”

Ragnor’s eyes widened and he reached out, grasping both of Arderi’s shoulders. “You think, or he has? Tell me true! If we let this monster slip through our fingers…” Releasing his hold, he started to pace. “We need to get you closer.” Spinning, he clapped his hand to the back of his head. “How could I be so stupid? You should be staying at an inn in Gatetown! There be one just across from the main gates. When he walks through the gates he will be close enough that you will feel him.” His hand fell away. “Or, do you think he has done left?”

“Nix, Master De’haln. He is still in the city. It is just—”

“Good.” He started for the stables. “There be still time, then. Go, grab your things. We will have you in one of the rooms of the Swans Landing within the aurn.” Without looking back, Ragnor disappeared into the stables.

Arderi did not head back into the house. Instead, he followed Ragnor. “Master De’haln. You need to listen to me.” Not that he had any idea of what he should say.

Turning, Ragnor stepped back and grabbed him by the elbow forcing him toward the villa. “There be no time. If the Mah’Sukai be leaving as you think, we must be at the main gates so you can point him out to me.” Releasing his arm, Ragnor took on a serious look. “Do no fear. I will handle things once we come to that.” A big grin spread across his fat lips. “Though, after what you did to that Kithian, I be surprised that you be so timid about using Dorochi. Now go.”

This was not going to work. He could not let this man take him to the main gates. If that happened, he would never be able to break away. “Master De’haln. I know where the Mah’Sukai is going.”

“Well, why did you no say earlier! That makes things—”

“Nix!” In frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair and walked back to the fountain. Large gold and yellow fish swam over to him, waiting for him to toss in some breadcrumbs. He had hoped this would work out differently. Though he saw no other path. Certainly, last night he had come up with several ways to get what he needed from the man. Each one ending with Ragnor wishing him well on his journeys. He had been a fool. Ragnor would never let him leave. Not until the Mah’Sukai—his brother—lay dead. That was not an option. Steeling himself, he spun and walked back to the man. “When I first arrived—when I brought you Master Rillion’s message—you bonded yourself to me.”

A cautious, guarded look came to Ragnor. “Aye. I did at that.”

“You said you would always be faithful to me.”

“Aye.” Crossing his muscular arms in front of him once more, his frown deepened. “What do you be working toward, lad?”

“I need you to uphold your vows now.” Arderi stood tall and straight. “I need to leave here. Alone.”

“Now just one bloody moment!” Ragnor no longer looked guarded. He looked ready to kill. “If you think you can go off and be a hero, this is no bard’s tale, lad. A Mah’Sukai can kill with a thought.”

Thinking of his brother flinging lightning from his hands made Arderi shiver. He flexed his right hand before looking Ragnor in the eye. “I am not trying to be a hero, Master De’haln. Still, I have to ask you to trust me. I cannot explain myself, yet I need three horses and enough supplies and coin for at least a moon’s travel.”

The look of anger on Ragnor’s face melted into amusement as Arderi spoke. “Lad, why by all the gods would you be needing all that? If I do remember, you can no even ride!”

I should never have come back here.

“Master De’haln.” Nix, his voice sounded like a pleading child and he needed to be heard as an adult. It was the only way he could come out of this with what he needed and not have Ragnor toss him into a sack. “Ragnor. If you are sworn to me as you say, then I am going to say this as simply as I can.” His anger reached its peak, yet he did not care. He had spent enough time on this. “I need the supplies and horses. And I need to leave here alone. It is the only way to find the Mah’Sukai.” Poking his finger into the big man’s chest, he realized he was yelling. “And if you do not give me what I need, I will just leave without them! I am the only one who can locate this man. Either let me go with what I need, or say farewell.”

“How can this be?” Ragnor threw up his hands. Looking around, he made certain they were alone before he continued. Even still, he lowered his voice. “You have been here for no even two tendays. I will say your sword skills have improved, and the fact that you did use your abilities to draw Dorochi before that Kith ripped out your throat did be impressive. Yet, there be no way I am going to let you get yourself killed by this monster.”

“My brother is not a monster!” As soon as the words left his mouth, a shiver ran down his spine and he threw a hand over his mouth.

Ragnor froze as well—eyes wide and nose flaring. “What did you say?”