The Crippled God

Thinking about Stormy and Gesler, Kalyth shivered. ‘Protect them, I beg you.’



‘ They shall lead. It is their purpose. This too is freedom .’



Motion in the corner of her eye drew Kalyth’s attention – Sinn, slipping down from the back of her Ve’Gath, racing forward a few steps in the manner of any carefree child. And then she whirled, like a dancer, and faced Kalyth.



‘The worm is burning – can’t you taste it? Burning!’



Kalyth shook her head. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Sinn.’



But the girl was smiling. ‘You can’t leave fire behind. Once you’ve found it, you carry it with you – it’s in the swords in your hands. It’s in the armour you wear, and the food you eat, and the warmth of the night and the way to see through the dark. And it never sits still – it’s always moving. It moved away from the Imass when they turned from it. But now they’ll see that the fire they once knew didn’t leave them – it just spread out . But maybe they won’t understand anyway – they’re not even alive, after all. You forget so much when you stop living.’ She waved her arms in her excitement. ‘That’s what was wrong with the lizard camps! No fires!’ She jabbed a finger at the Matron, hissed, ‘ You need reminding about fire .’



The words were bitter as ice, and Kalyth found her arms wrapping yet tighter about her chest. And from beside her the flavour of Gunth Mach’s oil suddenly soured – and the Destriant knew it for what it was.



She is afraid. The Matron is afraid .



Sister Reverence stared to the south. At last, the enemy shows its face . Still too far to make out anything more than the solid, dark mass of advancing legions. Those numbers are paltry. They need fifty or sixty thousand to even hope to break the defences. And from the looks of it, these are cavalry – imagine the forage they must have carried with them!



She glanced to the left, but the storm in the bay was unchanged, the cauldron ferocious yet striking her as strangely … impotent. The one hiding there can come no closer. Akhrast Korvalain is too powerful, drinking deep of the Fallen One’s heart. It is too late for all of them – we have grown too strong. We have achieved what we sought .



A Watered was on the stairs below, using both feet and hands to make his way up, his gasps sounding torn and raw. Sister Reverence awaited him with impatience. Even with our blessed blood – their humanness makes them so weak!



‘Beloved Sister!’



‘I am here,’ she replied.



‘Our scouts have returned! The army to the south!’



‘I see it, yes.’



‘They are giant lizards! Thousands of giant lizards!’



Sister Reverence staggered back a step. Then, in a surge of suddenly febrile power, she quested out towards that army – her mind reaching, reaching, there! A presence … a little further, reaching … touch — She cried out. ‘A Matron! But there are no matrons left! The Nah’ruk promised! The K’Chain Che’Malle are destroyed! ’ She realized that she was shouting out loud, and looked down into the wide eyes of the man kneeling at the edge of the stairs. ‘Return to the defences – have the onagers loaded. The Che’Malle will waste no time – they never do. Go!’



Alone once more, Reverence closed her eyes, sought to slow the savage twin beats of her hearts that now seemed to clash in discordant panic. Brother Diligence, hear my cry. We are deceived! The foe you face is but a feint – ignore them. I summon you and as much of the army as you can relinquish – we face K’Chain Che’Malle! Releasing her power, she waited, breath held, for her brother’s reply.



And received … nothing.



With hooded eyes, Setoc crouched atop a berm, facing upslope, and watched the descent of Brother Diligence. ‘This is not your place,’ she whispered. ‘Can you feel that yet? The Wolves have claimed this den – this den you so kindly made for us. And here we will wait, until the chosen time.’



She pivoted and scanned the brothers and sisters. She could smell their distress, rising up rank and sour from the maze of trenches, from these dusty holes carved down through stone and dead soil. Many were looking out, across the width of the valley, to where the Bolkando and Letherii armies were even now beginning the descent. She saw how the soldiers reacted in dismay upon seeing no enemy element positioning itself at the centre. Well, not all dismay – she saw quickly hidden expressions of relief, and the scent of that was a looser, thinner emanation.



When the wolf becomes you, you hear and taste and smell so much more, making vision seem like a lesser power, a weakling subject to blindness in the face of truths. No, it is better with the ghosts gathered within me now. So much better .