The Faithful and the Fallen: Ruin Part 44

'She is in good hands,' Tukul said, then climbed onto the rear deck, where Dath stood wrestling with a steering oar, Kulla the Jehar standing close to him, watching what he did with a raised eyebrow. Corban and Meical were standing at the rail, eyes fixed on the smoke-hazed riverbank. Farrell and Coralen were there, Storm sitting and licking blood from her claws.

'You sure you know what you're doing?' Farrell asked Dath.

'He is a skilled seaman,' Kulla said.

'Course I do,' Dath grunted. 'It's a little bigger than Da's fisherboat, but the principle's the same,' He wrestled with the oar a moment.

'You need to be stronger,' Kulla pointed out. Farrell laughed.

'She's got a point,' Dath admitted. 'You may be a better choice for this job.'

'Here you are, then,' Farrell said, striding over and taking the steering oar from Dath.

'Try not to ground us on a bank,' Dath said.

Farrell gave him a flat stare.

Tukul strode to Corban's side and leaned on the rail. He noticed his hands were dark with blood and grime.

The cries of those trying to put out the flaming ships faded, further away.

'Not all of their ships are burning,' Corban said. 'They could follow us.'

'Perhaps, but not until they've cleared the way. That will be no easy, or speedy, task.'

'Aye.' Corban rubbed his eyes. 'Well, then it would appear that we did it,' he said to them both.

'Aye. Fortunate for us that the bulk of their warband marched during the night,' Meical said.

'Someone on their side has a mind for strategy,' Tukul added.

'Aye. And fortunate for us that we do too.' Corban was staring into the distance, where the smoke had parted to give a view of the surrounding land. They could see the hill they had camped upon, fires still a pale flicker, their stick men and cloak-wrapped crow-scarers facing down a warband thousands strong.

'I'd like to see the look on Rhin's face just about now,' Dath said.

Tukul laughed. It had been a close thing, that march through the night to reach the ships before dawn. Especially when Storm sniffed out an enemy warband marching along the giantsway towards them.

That wolven has saved our lives more times than I can count.

'Coralen, you're a genius your ruse worked,' Corban called.

'It always has done,' Coralen said proudly. 'Distraction,' she continued. 'Rath taught it to me, and I'm sure you know the rule well enough; the blow that ends the fight is the one your opponent doesn't see coming. Make them look somewhere else, then make your move.'

I know that rule very well.

Tukul saw Meical nodding approvingly.

'You rode with Rath?' a voice grated behind them: Balur, the steps creaking as he climbed onto the deck. Brina followed behind him, small in his shadow. Her hands were red with blood. Craf fluttered down from above, perching on a rail.

'I did,' Coralen said. 'He was my uncle.'

Balur's white eyebrows bunched. 'Did he use that trick against the Benothi?'

'Yes,' Coralen shrugged.

There was an uncomfortable silence, Balur glowering down, Coralen scowling up.

'We have put old grievances behind us,' Meical said quietly.

The silence continued, then Balur sighed.

'Aye,' he rumbled and walked away.

The ship turned a bend in the river; Uthandun disappeared from view.

Corban turned and looked ahead, the river winding beneath the trees of the Darkwood.

'Craf, will you do something for me?'

'Anything,' Craf croaked. Brina raised an eyebrow at that.

'Find Edana at Dun Crin, tell her we tried, but it was impossible to reach her. Tell her we are going to Dra.s.sil. Tell her . . .' He paused, shoulders slumping. 'Tell her my oath still stands.'

Without a word of complaint Craf launched himself into the sky and winged southwards, disappearing beyond the trees.

'What have you done to my crow?' Brina muttered.

Corban stared after him a while, then looked at their course ahead.

'So. To Dra.s.sil,' he said, though Tukul thought he may have been speaking to himself.

Indeed. To Dra.s.sil.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.

UTHAS.

Uthas stepped into a cavernous room, ma.s.sive pillars rising high to a domed roof far above. A nimbus of light filtered through, as if the material the ceiling was carved from was thin, translucent.

Asroth's throne room. He felt a surge of fear coursing through his veins, paralysing him.

Why have I done this? What kind of fool am I?

'Remember, this is what you asked for,' Calidus said to him, still bound in his human form, appearing small and frail amidst the might of Asroth's Kadoshim.

And they were everywhere. Thousands of them, beyond counting. Not the shadowy wraiths he had witnessed emerge from the cauldron in Murias, but solid, grey-skinned creatures of scale and fang and wing. They wore coats of dark mail and bore spear and sword, regarding him with curious stares. The air crackled as one close by stretched its bat-like wings.

Uthas wrenched his eyes away from them and paced down the aisle before him, focusing on Calidus' back. He had walked what felt like a long way when a sound drew his eyes.

A scream.

He looked to his left, saw a figure chained to a post. A winged man, or what was left of a winged man.

He is Ben-Elim.

Uthas stopped and stared.

One wing of white feathers, stained with blood and grime, hung broken and useless from his back. The other wing was gone altogether, all that was left of it a frayed stump protruding from the Ben-Elim's back. He was chained to the post, suspended by iron collars about his wrists, head slumped, dark hair hanging. Another collar of iron was fixed about his neck, the chain secured to an iron ring embedded into the ground. As Uthas stood and stared, the Ben-Elim raised his head, dark eyes fixing him.

'Help me,' the Ben-Elim whispered through cracked and swollen lips.

'Why do you not just kill him?' Uthas asked.

'Where would be the fun in that?' Calidus replied. 'Besides, life and death are not the same, here in the Otherworld. It is nigh impossible to slay one of Elyon's Firstborn. They have tried.' He shrugged at the Kadoshim nearby. 'So we settle for pain.'

Uthas could not take his eyes away. As he stared, a Kadoshim approached the Ben-Elim, buried a spear-blade into his belly, twisting it; the Ben-Elim screamed in agony.

'Onwards,' Calidus said and they carried on, the screams fading behind them.

Eventually they came to wide steps that stretched the entire length of the chamber. Uthas climbed, at their top saw a figure sitting upon a throne that resembled the looping coils of a great wyrm. The figure was reclining, a leg draped across one coiled arm of the throne.

Asroth.

He radiated power, silver hair bound into a single, thick warrior braid. He wore a coat of oil-dark mail, leathery wings curled tight behind him. Kadoshim stood about him, some were guards holding bright spears, others were in conversation with the Lord of the Fallen. They fell silent as Calidus and Uthas approached.

'I bring an ally, my King,' Calidus said, more reverence and fear in his voice than Uthas would have thought possible. 'Uthas of the Benothi clan.'

Black eyes in a milky-pale face that could have been carved from alabaster regarded Uthas.

Asroth rose from his chair and paced forward. The ground smoked and hissed with each footstep, leaving behind a blackened imprint.

'Welcome to my home,' Asroth said, smiling through blue-tinged lips.

'My lord,' Uthas said. He stood a hand taller than Asroth, but still his legs were suddenly weak and he slid to his knees.

Asroth crouched before him, a broken-nailed finger tracing Uthas' chin, lifting his head so that their eyes met. The ground lurched beneath Uthas' feet, he felt as if he was falling. He did not much care for the sensation.

Asroth licked his lips with a black tongue, as if tasting the air. 'I know you,' he said. 'You are mine.'

'I am,' Uthas heard himself say, voice dry as gravel. He remembered vividly when Rhin had conjured Asroth through spells and flame. At the time it had been terrifying and exhilarating both. This time it was mostly terrifying.

'Why are you here?' Asroth asked.

'Uthas has information of value to our cause,' Calidus said. 'He knows the whereabouts of two of the Treasures.'

'That will be most helpful,' Asroth said. 'They are vital to our campaign. Which Treasures?'

'The cup and the necklace, my lord,' Uthas said.

'Nemain's necklace,' Asroth said quietly. He closed his eyes, dark veins tracing his eyelids. 'I remember seeing it about her neck as she fought me.' He smiled, opening his eyes. 'She had spirit. And you slew her.'

'I did,' Uthas said, feeling both shame and pride flow through him.

'So where are these Treasures?'

'I am aware of their last known locations,' Uthas said.

'Not quite the same as where they are now,' Asroth said.

'No, my lord, but it is unlikely that they have been moved.'

Asroth nodded. 'So. Where are these last-known locations?'

Uthas paused, fighting the urge to speak, to spill the information from his mouth. He clenched his teeth together.

'Uthas would ask a reward of you, for this information,' Calidus said.

Thank you, thought Uthas. Never had he felt more grateful to someone for speaking for him.

Asroth frowned, his alabaster skin creasing like old parchment.

'You would bargain with me?'

'No, my lord,' Uthas uttered. 'A reward . . .'

'Ahh.' Asroth stood and strode back to his chair, his leathery wings wrapping around him as he sat. 'It is true, I reward those who serve me successfully. And punish those who fail me. What reward do you wish for?'

'To be King of the giant clans and to rule from Dra.s.sil, our ancient home. When the war is won.'

'But your giants are Sundered. Even I cannot change what is already done.'

'I ask that they be given the choice, in this G.o.d-War. Those who join your cause have me as their lord, your va.s.sal king. Those that refuse, back to dust.'

Asroth smiled. 'That does not seem unreasonable. I agree. If you are successful in your part of the bargain. Calidus must have these Treasures in his possession before your part is deemed fulfilled. Agreed?'