Vulcan's Fury: The Dark Lands (43 page)

“…wind up on the dinner table,” Paulus finished for him, aghast. “Gods have mercy.”

Marcus clenched his hands. “Then we find Valeria, quickly, and figure out a way out of here and back to the Empire. Livius and Sergius are both sons of whores and might crucify us, but I’d rather face that than wind up in some giant’s belly. And at least I know that Sergius won’t harm Valeria.”

“Leaving the part about escaping to a later time,” Paulus asked, “how do we find her?”

As one, they all looked at Karan. “She will have had to climb the escarpment, just as we have,” he said slowly. “There is nothing to sustain her on the beach, and if she stayed in the jungle a moment longer than necessary…” He shook his head. Pursing his lips in thought, he squatted down and grabbed a stick. “Assuming she reached the top and decided not to stay put somewhere near the edge…”

“She wouldn’t.” The words came as a chorus from Pelonius, Marcus, Septimus, and Paulus. Haakon laughed.

Karan couldn’t help but smile. He drew a line representing Valeria’s march. “So, she moves inland, searching for us. That would eventually bring her to the road from the capital, here.” He drew another line, long and curved, then an X where the two intersected. “Of course, we have no way of knowing if she will be to our left or right, or which way she might try to go.”

“She’ll go right,” Pelonius said.

“Why?” Marcus asked.

“Because to the right would take her northeast, would it not?”
 

Karan nodded.
 

“Then she will head into the sunrise and to the north.” Pelonius looked at Paulus. “She has never liked the south after the death of your parents, and is an eternal optimist. The dawn brings new possibilities. Dusk is the day’s death.”

“You and your philosophy,” Septimus scoffed. “It’s a gambler’s dream: even odds she goes left and even she goes right. Take your pick. Would that I ever had such odds when tossing bones, I’d be rich enough to be a senator.”

“Let’s say she does go right,” Marcus said. “That leaves us with the question of whether she’s to the north or south of us now, ahead or behind, as it were, and which way we should go ourselves.”

“We head northeast and leave markers for her,” Paulus suggested. “If she’s behind us, she’ll know we’re alive, and we can stop periodically to let her catch up. And if she’s ahead, Karan and I can move fast and catch up to her, then bring her back.”

“Valeria likely would think of leaving markers, too,” Marcus said, “regardless of which way she goes. If she’s anywhere close at all, she must have heard Hercules, so she knows at least he made it to shore.”

“There is only one minor problem with this plan,” Karan said quietly, his expression darkening.

“What’s that?” Paulus asked.
 

“As soon as she reaches the road — as soon as any of us reach the road — we will be discovered and taken captive.”

“Maybe she’ll just skirt the road and stay in the trees, out of sight,” Paulus suggested.

Karan shook his head. “Even if she does, the Swords will find her, even if the soldiers don’t.”

“And they would show her no mercy?” Marcus asked.

Again, Karan shook his head. “The Swords would take her to the Masters. But in answer to your question, no, mercy is not to be found in these lands.”

“Then that puts paid to any thought of leaving markers,” Septimus grumbled. “That would be like putting out a sign that says
free food
.”

Paulus rounded on him. “Don’t say that!”
 

Septimus met his glare, then looked away and mumbled an apology.

“We’ll leave all that for later,” Marcus said, making a decision. “We’ll move inland until we come to the road, do some scouting, then see what the gods have in store for us.”

Septimus looked skyward. “Bastards.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

For the rest of that day and the day after, the men pushed inland as fast as they could manage. For the most part, Hercules led, content to go in whatever direction in which Pelonius pointed him, easily breaking a trail that the others could follow. While they could hear bestial grunting throughout the day, some of which must have come from very large animals, whatever predators might have stalked them chose to steer well clear of the hexatiger. The small tree-dwellers, ranging from squirrels to small monkeys, chittered at them as they passed, but chose not to otherwise interfere.

That night, Marcus sat alone, the nearly burned flesh of the cooked snake in his hand, untouched. No fire crackled, for Karan was worried that it would draw unwanted attention. The road, and those who travelled upon it, was close. The others sat or lay in the darkness, exhausted, silent.

Karan came to sit beside the centurion. “You must keep believing that she is alive,” he said quietly.

Marcus didn’t answer, but his head seemed to droop lower.

“You cannot give up hope,” Karan persisted.

“Even if she survived and reached shore, how could she stay alive out there?” Throughout the forest, things yipped and howled in answer. “Besides, how could you know if she was still alive?”

“I would not, but Hercules would. His great heart would be broken, but it is not.”

With a bitter laugh, Marcus shook his head. “He’s nothing more than an animal, Karan. A goat would have as much inner knowledge of Valeria’s fate.”

“You are wrong, centurion, but I do not fault you for it.” Karan put his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I will believe for you, and pray to Hercules.”

“You do that, boy,” Marcus rasped.
 

As Karan got up to leave, he heard something he would never have credited from the battle-hardened centurion: the quiet weeping of bitter tears.

The following morning they pushed on, but more slowly, as if they were again fighting their way up the escarpment. The closer they got to where Karan believed the road must be, the slower they seemed to go, as if not wanting to reach their destination and face the decisions that awaited them there, and the crushing reality that Valeria might be dead.

The sound of a large beast echoed from somewhere off to the left, and ahead. Hercules suddenly stopped, raising his head to sniff the air. With a mewling cry, he darted forward, then broke into a full run, crashing through the underbrush.

“Hercules!” Marcus called. “Hercules, come back!”

***

Valeria ran, ignoring the welts and cuts left by the branches as she pushed her way through the smaller trees and shrubs. Since leaving the escarpment and entering the forest, her existence had become a nightmare of running, endlessly running, from things determined to kill her. The skin of her feet burned from the sting of tiny ants whose mound she had stumbled into. Her left shoulder was bloody and inflamed from where an eagle-like bird with an unbelievable wing span had speared her with its talons, trying to carry her away. Her left hand dangled useless, broken when an animal that looked like a placid buffalo, black as night, had charged her and gotten her spear down its throat for its efforts. But the spear broke, snapping with such force that it broke her hand, in turn. In her good hand she still clutched her dagger, which was of no use at all against the thing that pursued her. At first she had thought it was a bear, but no bear she had ever seen had a horrible, twisted face like that. It was as if the flesh had been turned inside out, and the teeth would have been more at home on a pure carnivore straight out of a nightmare.

The only reason she was still alive was that it had taken a misstep when she had leaped across a shallow gorge. It had pawed her, trying to swat her to the ground, just as she’d jumped. Its claws had found their mark, scraping down to the bone of her right shoulder blade and sending her sprawling. But she had made it to the far side, while the awful beast, roaring with rage, had tumbled into the gorge. Looking over the edge, shaking with pain and fear, she had hoped to see it sprawled there in a blood-spattered heap. But the gorge was little more than a cut in the earth, and all she saw was the beast charging toward the nearest slope that would bring it up to where she knelt.
 

Biting back a cry, she had gotten to her feet and had kept running.
 

Now, she was nearly at the end of her strength. The beast was gaining, and would eventually have her. But she refused to give it the satisfaction of an easy chase. And when it cornered her at last, it would feel the sting of her dagger before she went down.

She tumbled down a slope as the ground unexpectedly disappeared from beneath her feet. Her head slammed into a tree, dazing her, as she rolled. When the ground finally began to level out and she stopped tumbling, she got to her hands and knees. She saw stars in her eyes, but through the ringing in her ears she could hear the beast coming for her.
 

Then she heard something else: the familiar chorus of oiled leather and steel, the unmistakable sound of soldiers. Looking up, she bit back a cry at the vision before her. They were indeed soldiers, numbering perhaps a hundred, wearing black leather and polished steel, but they were like none ever given birth from Man and Woman. The smallest was at least a head taller than Haakon and broader of shoulder, and the tallest was perhaps two or three heads more. All wore helmets, but two had helmets bearing a crest of long black feathers and rode huge horses that had zebra stripes along their rear quarters. But what truly shocked her was their faces, all staring at her now from little more than a dozen or so yards away. They were a nightmarish vision that her dazed brain simply could not grasp.

Then she saw the others, children at first glance, who moved with fluid grace toward her while the soldiers merely watched with idle curiosity. These others were indeed smaller, and truly human, although not children as she had first assumed. After what seemed like an agonizingly long moment as her dazed brain processed what she was seeing, she realized they must be Swords like Karan. They were dressed as he had been when she had first seen him. All carried swords, while some also carried bows, spears, or tridents.

The huge beast exploded from the brush behind her, come to claim its prize. Valeria screamed and tried to get away, but the thing slammed her to the ground with a huge paw. Seeing it had challengers, it rose to its hind legs and roared…and died as six arrows speared through the roof of its open mouth, the razor sharp tips burying themselves in the beast’s brain. With a startled grunt, it stiffened, then fell backward into the brush, dead.

“Thank you,” Valeria managed through the chattering of her teeth. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably as she fought just to sit up. Unable to help herself, she began to cry. “Thank you.”

One of the monsters riding the horse-thing came toward her, the Swords parting before him and dropping to one knee, heads bowed.
 

“It is I who would thank you,” he said in a deep voice, “for the flesh you will provide my table.” His Latin was heavily accented, but in a different way than was Karan’s. To the Swords, he said, “Take her.”

“No!” Valeria forced herself to her feet. She could barely hold herself upright now, but she held out the dagger she still clutched in her good hand. “Stay away!”

The black-clad soldier on the horse-thing regarded her intently. “You are not a Sword, nor are you a slave by your dress. What are you?”

“
Who
, not
what
, you swine,” Valeria hissed. “I am Princess Valeria, daughter of Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus, Emperor of Rome, and you shall
not
lay your hands upon me.”

“The daughter…of the Emperor of Rome?” The monster looked over his shoulder at his companions, then back at her before throwing his head back and laughing. The soldiers laughed with him, all but the other riding the horse-like creature, who regarded her with quiet intensity.

Still laughing, the mounted soldier who had posed the question drew his sword and charged toward her. The ground shook under the horse-thing’s footfalls, and she clamped her mouth shut. The daughter of Caesar would not die screaming in fright.

Mother, Father
, she thought,
I will be with you soon
…

***

Having left Haakon to protect Pelonius, Karan led Marcus, Septimus, and Paulus in a headlong dash after Hercules, who had quickly disappeared from sight as he bolted away from them.
 

No
, Karan corrected himself.
He is not running away, he is running toward something. Toward someone
. His heart quickened with hope that Valeria was still alive. He could think of nothing else that would set the great beast on such an urgent quest.

Somewhere up ahead, they heard the angry howls of an enraged animal. After one final roar, the animal was silent. Karan’s heart twisted with uncertainty, wondering if whatever it was had killed Hercules or Valeria, or both. But no. No creature known in these lands could bring down a god of the world such as Hercules without a great battle. That could only mean…

They crested a small rise, and through a break in the trees Karan saw Valeria on the ground, a dead Northern Forest bear, arrows protruding from its mouth, right behind her. But the joy that arose in his heart at seeing her alive was crushed by the sight of a century of soldiers accompanied by a troop of Swords.

Paulus was about to call out to Valeria, but Karan clamped his hand over his companion’s mouth and tripped him to the ground. “Silence!” he hissed before the others could do or say anything. “If you value Valeria’s life, be still! If the soldiers see us, we are all dead!”

Angrily swatting his hand away, Paulus did as Karan said, as did the others. Prone on the ground, they could only watch as a mounted soldier, a Titan in size, charged toward Valeria just as Hercules leaped from the shade of the forest to greet him.
 

***

Nearly three thousand pounds of primal fury sailed over Valeria’s head from the woods behind her. She fell to the ground, her hands covering her ears against the frightful roar, louder than she had ever before heard, as Hercules attacked. The mounted soldier screamed in surprise and terror, but only for an instant before the great hexatiger’s jaws clamped over his torso while his claws shredded his helpless mount. The horse thing went down in a squealing tumble, barely missing Valeria, while Hercules’s momentum carried him and the soldier in the opposite direction. Hercules landed on all six feet, then shook the huge soldier like a limp doll, blood spraying in a wide arc around them. Valeria heard the soldier’s metal armor squeal and his ribs snap as they gave way under the incalculable pressure of Hercules’s jaws. With one final, vicious shake, the big cat let go of the body, which crashed into the midst of the terrified soldiers, who had drawn their weapons and stood uncertainly, wavering in fear.