The Crippled God

‘You say you need us more than ever,’ said Mortal Sword Krughava then, ‘because we are to invade on more than one front. Adjunct?’



‘Directly east of us waits the Glass Desert,’ Tavore said. ‘While it offers the shortest route into the territories of the Forkrul Assail, this path is not only reputedly treacherous but by all accounts impossible for an army to traverse.’ She studied the Perish. ‘That is the path the Bonehunters will take. Mortal Sword, you cannot accompany us, because we cannot feed you, nor supply you with water. Beyond the Glass Desert, by Queen Abrastal’s own account, the land scarcely improves.’



‘A moment, please.’ The Bolkando queen was staring at the Adjunct. ‘The only viable overland routes are the southern caravan tracks. The Glass Desert is truly impassable. If you take your army into it you will destroy what’s left of the Bonehunters – not one of you will emerge.’



‘We shall cross the Glass Desert,’ said the Adjunct, ‘emerging to the southwest of Estobanse Province. And we mean to be seen by the enemy at the earliest opportunity. And they shall gather their forces to meet us, and a battle shall be fought. One battle.’



Something in Tavore’s tone made Aranict gasp and she felt herself grow cold with horror.



‘What of the Grey Helms?’ Krughava demanded.



‘In the Bay of Kolanse there rises a natural edifice known as the Spire. Atop this fastness there is a temple. Within this temple something is trapped. Something wounded, something that needs to be freed. The Bonehunters shall be the lodestone to the forces of the Forkrul Assail, Mortal Sword, but it is the Perish who will strike the death blow against the enemy.’



Aranict saw Krughava’s iron eyes narrowing. ‘We are to take the south route.’



‘Yes.’



A battle. One battle. She means to sacrifice herself and her soldiers. Oh, by all the Holds, she cannot —



‘You invite mutiny,’ said Fist Blistig, his face flushed dark. ‘Tavore – you cannot ask this of us.’



And she faced her Fists then, and said in a whisper, ‘ But I must .’



‘Unwitnessed,’ said Faradan Sort, ghost-pale, dry-lipped. ‘Adjunct, this battle you seek. If we face an enemy believing only in our own deaths—’



Banaschar spoke, and Aranict was shocked to see tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘To the executioner’s axe there are those who kneel, head bowed, and await their fate. Then there are those who fight, who strain, who cry out their defiance even as the blade descends.’ He pointed a finger at Blistig. ‘Now you will speak true, Fist: which one is Adjunct Tavore?’



‘A drunken fool speaks for our commander?’ Blistig’s voice was vicious. He bared his teeth. ‘How damned appropriate! Will you stand there with us on that day, Banaschar?’



‘I shall.’



‘Drunk.’ The word was a sneer.



The man’s answering smile was terrible. ‘No. Stone sober, Blistig. As befits your one – your only – witness.’



‘Hood take your damned executioner! I will have none of this!’ Blistig appealed to his fellow Fists. ‘Knowing what you now know, will you lead your soldiers to their deaths? If this Glass Desert doesn’t kill us, the Assail will. And all for what? A feint? A fucking feint ?’ He spun to the Adjunct. ‘Is that all we’re worth, woman? A rusty dagger for one last thrust and if the blade snaps, what of it?’



Krughava spoke. ‘Adjunct Tavore. This thing that is wounded, this thing in the temple upon the Spire – what is it that you wish freed?’



‘The heart of the Crippled God,’ Tavore replied.



The Mortal Sword seemed visibly rocked by that. Behind her, with eyes shining, Tanakalian asked, ‘ Why? ’



‘The Forkrul Assail draw upon its blood, Shield Anvil. They seek to open the Gates of Justice upon this world. Akhrast Korvalain. To unleash the fullest measure of power, they intend to drive a blade through that heart when the time is right—’



‘And when is that?’ Abrastal demanded.



‘When the Spears of Jade arrive, Highness. Less than three months from now, if Banaschar’s calculations are correct.’



The ex-priest grunted. ‘D’rek is coiled about time itself, friends.’



Clearing his throat, Brys asked, ‘The Jade Spears, Adjunct. What are they?’



‘The souls of his worshippers, Prince. His beloved believers. They are coming for their god.’



Chills tracked Aranict’s spine.



‘If the heart is freed,’ said Krughava, ‘then … he can return to them.’