Dom’s arms flew up and knocked Ash away and then he stiffened and fell like a tree. Crys slid in behind him and caught his shoulders, but Dom began to convulse before he managed to get him on to the floor and he wriggled, hit the dirt back-first so all the breath was driven free, and then the thrashing started, the arching, the guttural grunts.
A spear appeared in the ground by his hip and Ash spun to face the Warlord’s warriors. ‘Don’t you fucking dare,’ he roared at them, turned away before anyone could reply, and threw himself down at Dom’s head, murmuring the old charms to soothe him, let him know he wasn’t alone. ‘Hush now, hush,’ he said, thumbs tracing circles on Dom’s brow. ‘We’re here; you’re safe. You’re safe. We’ve got you.’
Crys knelt at his side and studied the writhing face as Dom’s boot heels drummed the hard-packed earth, foam splattering from his mouth. He put his hand on the calestar’s stomach and pushed. ‘Be still,’ he commanded and Dom relaxed, a sudden boneless collapse as though he’d been brained. There was a chorus of murmurs from those around them as all crowded in to see, but Crys paid them no mind.
‘Tell me,’ he said.
Dom’s eyes opened, brown and bloodshot, glittering with pain. He spat out pink saliva. ‘Lies live here,’ he grated to the assembled Krikites as much as to Crys. The Seer-Mother and even the Warlord leant close to listen, though warriors stood ready in case this was some ruse. ‘Someone here dissembles, cloaked in lies and false prophecy. Someone tricks.’
Sharp looks in Crys’s direction that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Unfortunate choice of words, Calestar.
‘There is deception here, and it stifles the divine,’ Dom continued. ‘Someone lies, someone trusted. The gods are leaking from Krike as the faithful turn their hearts away. Water from a broken bucket. Turn them back, or all is lost. Worship again, worship as your ancestors did, or be lost.’
Crys sat back on his heels as Dom rolled weakly on to his side and vomited. Ash snatched a waterskin from Cutta and helped him to drink. Despite the situation, the war leader kept her place by their side and Crys was thankful for it. He had an uneasy feeling he’d need her and her fighters.
‘Warlord, is there somewhere we may go so my friend can rest?’ Crys asked, standing. ‘He’ll be exhausted after his knowing and in a lot of pain. He needs somewhere warm and dry to sleep. You may guard us however you see fit; we won’t resist. And if you’d like to question our presence here, I am happy to come with you.’
Ash jerked his head up at that and Crys put his hand out.
‘Lies and falsehoods and secrets and fear,’ Dom mumbled, gazing into some inner vista that haunted him. ‘Lies, all lies. Only dreams are true here and they forget their dreams.’
The muttering this time was angry, hostile.
‘See?’ Tanik demanded. ‘They know nothing of us and our way of life to speak so. The Fox God would never allow anyone to speak of the soul-dreaming with so little respect. They are moon-mad; it can be nothing else. This one has been born with the sign of the god in his eyes and uses the blessing to cheat and corrupt the weak of mind.’
Ash scowled at the implication. ‘Fuck’s sake, I’m not listening to any more of this shit. Crys, help me get him up; he needs to rest. With luck we can be gone in the morning.’
Dom’s legs would barely support him and he hung between them like wet washing as they started towards the gate. Warriors shuffled and looked at each other, at the Warlord and the Seer-Mother, at Cutta Frog-dream and her two-hundred-strong war band.
‘Let them through. House them in the travellers’ quarter and put a dozen guards on watch.’ The Warlord’s voice was clear and he radiated puzzlement more than hostility, as though something didn’t quite make sense.
‘They will be questioned one at a time,’ Tanik said. ‘That one’s insane claims will be investigated in the sight of the gods. When his heresy is laid bare, he will be dealt with accordingly.’
The honour guard formed up around the three of them before Crys could respond and marched them through the gates and into the town, laid out like spokes on a wheel with roads lined with vegetable plots all leading in towards the centre – the tor. Crys felt it pull at him as they walked, felt a sudden sharp-eyed attention from within.
The tor. It will happen at the tor.
What will?
All of it.
Crys wasn’t reassured. He was pretty sure the Fox God had said something similar shortly before he was almost tortured to death.
Eighth moon, first year of the reign of King Corvus
Throne room, the palace, Rilporin, Wheat Lands
‘The first of the Evendoom women turned up,’ Corvus said as he lounged on the throne, one leg flung over the arm. ‘Three of them.’
‘How’d they look?’ Valan asked.
Corvus screwed up his face. ‘Even when they weren’t wailing and tearing their hair and so forth, mostly like the bastard offspring of a dog and a horse’s arse. I got rid of them.’ He studied Silais, who’d decided kneeling was by far the lesser evil compared with having body parts cut off. ‘But Slave Silais tells me some of the others have reputations for being quite pretty. In fact, he’s staked his other ear on it.’
The man twitched and Corvus sniggered. ‘As for the male heirs, two currently reside in Pine Lock. Brothers. I don’t trust the East Rank to handle it; sort it out for me, Valan. Silais will give you names and descriptions.’
‘Your will, Sire. With your permission, I’ll leave at dawn.’ Corvus nodded. ‘Regarding your safety in my absence, Tett’s a good man, steady and loyal and a bastard with a knife. He’ll make you a decent bodyguard.’
‘Hails from Crow Crag, not Eagle Height?’ Valan nodded. ‘Good. Always easier to trust one of our own. Brief him tonight and send him to me before you leave. Now, how’s the mood?’
Valan drummed his fingers on his knee and stared out of the window for a while. ‘Worried, Sire,’ he said eventually. ‘Now that things are settling down, now that we’re consolidating, well … some of the men are wondering if our victory was actually a victory? Our enemy is still out there, skulking through Listre or holed up in the South Forts – and we’ll have news on that any day now. In the meantime, our allies are spread thin across the rest of Rilpor. The Dark Lady is gone, and while the Blessed One’s plan will see Her restored to us,’ he added hastily as Corvus’s nostrils flared, ‘that plan made no mention of whether or not She will return as an infant. The men worry that there are more battles to come and our goddess will be helpless to aid us while in that form. And the food …’
Corvus licked his lips and strove for calm. Nothing Valan had said differed from the thoughts that chased around his own brain each night. Not that he would – could – ever admit that. And if the Blessed One wasn’t being so fucking secretive, so godsdamned stubborn, we could put all their minds at rest. Mine included. Because the truth was he had no idea if the Dark Lady would somehow transform the infant into a grown woman – a grown goddess – at the moment of Her return. Deep in his heart, he suspected Lanta didn’t know either.
‘Listre is being dealt with. I’ve sent correspondence to their government stating we have no quarrel with them – which they’re probably stupid enough to believe – and Tresh won’t be a problem soon enough. Skerris has scouts on the border just in case. They’ll take ship on the Tears as soon as anything untoward is spotted. And I’ve received confirmation from our friends in Krike that they won’t aid any rebel Rilporians.’