The Bonehunters

'How – no, I don't want to know. It doesn't matter. I don't care.'



'So where is she now?'



'No more.'



Scillara subsided. She pulled out a narrow-bladed knife and began cleaning her pipe.



He suddenly rose. 'I'll start on breakfast.'



A sweet boy, she decided. Like damp clay in a woman's hands. A woman who knew what she was doing, that is.



Now the question is, should I be doing this? Felisin adored Cutter, after all. Then again, we could always share.



****

'Smirking observation. Soft-curved, large-breasted woman wants to press flesh with Cutter.'



Not now, Greyfrog, he replied without speaking aloud as he removed food from the pack.



'Alarm. No, not now indeed. The others are wakening from their uneasy dreams. Awkward and dismay to follow, especially with Felisin Younger.'



Cutter paused. What? Why – but she's barely of age! No, this can't be.



Talk her out of it, Greyfrog! 'Greyfrog's own advances unwelcome. Despondent sulk. You, Cutter, of seed-issuing capacity, capable of effecting beget. Past revelation.



Human women carry breeding pond in bellies. But one egg survives, only one. Terrible risk! You must fill pond as quickly as possible, before rival male appears to steal your destiny. Greyfrog will defend your claim. Brave self-sacrifice, such as Sentinel Circlers among own kind.



Altruistic enlightenment of reciprocity and protracted slant reward once or even many times removed. Signifier of higher intelligence, acknowledgement of community interests. Greyfrog is already Sentinel Circler to soft-curved, large-breasted goddess-human.'



Goddess? What do you mean, goddess? 'Lustful sigh, is worthy of worship. Value signifiers in male human clouding the pond's waters in Greyfrog's mind. Too long association.



Happily. Sexual desires long withheld. Unhealthy.'



Cutter set a pot of water on the fire and tossed in a handful of herbs. What did you say earlier about uneasy dreams, Greyfrog? 'Observation, skimming the mind ponds. Troubled. Approaching danger.



There are warning signs.'



What warning signs? 'Obvious. Uneasy dreams. Sufficient unto themselves.'



Not always, Greyfrog. Sometimes it's things from the past that haunt us. That's all.



'Ah. Greyfrog will think on this. But first, pangs. Greyfrog is hungry.'



****

The grey haze of the heat and the dust made the distant walls barely visible. Leoman of the Flails rode at the head of the ragged column, Corabb Bhilan Thenu'alas at his side, as a company of riders approached from Y'Ghatan's gates.



'There,' Corabb said, 'front rider on the right of the standardbearer, that is Falah'd Vedor. He looks… unhappy.'



'He'd best begin making peace with that sentiment,' Leoman said in a growl. He raised a gloved hand and the column behind him slowed to a halt.



They watched the company close.



'Commander, shall you and I meet them halfway?' Corabb asked.



'Of course not,' Leoman snapped.



Corabb said nothing more. His leader was in a dark mood. A third of his warriors were riding double. A much-loved old healer witch had died this very morning, and they'd pinned her corpse beneath a slab of stone lest some wandering spirit find her. Leoman himself had spat in the eight directions to hallow the ground, and spilled drops of his own blood from a slash he opened on his left hand onto the dusted stone, voicing the blessing in the name of the Apocalyptic. Then he had wept. In front of all his warriors, who had stood silent, awestruck by the grief and the love for his followers Leoman had revealed in that moment.



The Falah'd and his soldiers approached, then drew to a halt five paces in front of Leoman and Corabb.



Corabb studied Vedor's sallow, sunken face, murky eyes, and knew him for an addict of d'bayang poppy. His thick-veined hands trembled on the saddle horn, and, when it became evident that Leoman would not be the first to speak, he scowled and said, 'I, Falah'd Vedor of Y'



Ghatan, the First Holy City, do hereby welcome you, Leoman of the Flails, refugee of Sha'ik's Fall in Raraku, and your broken followers.



We have prepared secure barracks for your warriors, and the tables wait, heaped with food and wine. You, Leoman, and your remaining officers shall be the Falah'd's guests in the palace, for as long as required for you to reprovision your army and recover from your flight. Inform us of your final destination and we shall send envoys in advance to proclaim your coming to each and every village, town and city on your route.'



Corabb found he was holding his breath. He watched as Leoman nudged his horse forward, until he was positioned side by side with the Falah'd.