The Order, page 14
He warned Leah to stay away from the sap, which was irritating to the skin, and used his staff to keep his feet steady as he climbed up onto the tree and began to navigate through, pushing branches aside and squeezing through others, one step at a time. He was reminded of the narrow, rocky passage in the Vizjerei ruins, and that made him think of poor Akarat, and his terrible fate; for a moment he almost imagined the paladin just ahead of him, urging him forward. But of course nothing was really there, and when he glanced back, he saw Leah close behind, her small face somber and determined.
The bridge groaned ominously, pieces of its structure tumbling into the raging rapids. Finally Cain reached the end, where the shattered trunk sent thick splinters of wood like spikes in all directions, and as he climbed over the trunk, a large splinter caught at his tunic, scratching deeply into the skin of his side. A burning pain raced through him before he pulled himself free and limped to the ground. Cain touched the spot and found traces of blood.
Leah jumped down lightly a moment later. All at once, with a shriek and a great, earth-shaking crash, the entire structure collapsed into the river. Plumes of water shot thirty feet into the air, the surface churning and boiling as the two travelers were instantly soaked through by the spray. Cain stumbled backward, his heart in his throat. A few moments earlier and they would have been killed.
One thing was certain: there was no turning back now.
They kept to a steady pace as the sun rose in the sky and banished the last of the night’s chill. Cain used his staff to bear as much of his weight as he could, but his feet were growing worse, and his knees and back were threatening to give out. And now he had a new wound, which had begun to throb dully. He felt unbearably old.
As the morning stretched into afternoon, the road began to climb slowly into the hills. It had not taken a direct route to Kurast, instead going east to the river before taking a turn to run south. Rising above them in the distance, the mountains ran down the length of the land as though across the back of some giant sea monster.
Cain found the going even tougher here as the heat swelled, the ground rockier and more rutted than before. It was well past noon now; they had finished the last of the water from the small pouch, but there was nothing on the horizon to indicate a place where they might stop for more. They hadn’t seen a single soul since they had left Caldeum.
Three hours later, they passed a well-worn footpath that branched out to the right and disappeared into the hillside. Just beyond it they came to a steeper pass cut into the hills that had been overrun with boulders. The two cliff faces on either side were nearly sheer, and the rockslide was almost thirty feet high between them.
The two travelers stood at the foot of the rock-strewn track. The road was completely blocked.
He consulted a map from his rucksack. The path they had just seen should lead them around this pass. They could rejoin the road a few miles farther on, as it looped back. “We’ll take the long way around,” he said. “Come on.”
Leah didn’t move. She stared at the slide, her little face screwed up in concentration. “There’s someone here,” she said.
Cain leaned on his staff and studied her. “Why would you say that?”
She shrugged and looked around at the hills that seemed to loom over them in the sunshine. “It’s scary out here. I feel like there’s someone watching us.”
Cain stopped to catch his breath and look around. He had had the nagging feeling for some time now that they were being watched as well. He scanned back down in the direction they had come, and gazed at the hills above them, looking for some kind of hiding place where a man might take cover. At first he found nothing—no movement, no sense of a presence lurking anywhere. But then he thought he heard a very slight sound, like the scraping of something against rock.
A stream of pebbles trickled down the embankment.
The people there will take what they can from you and leave you to die on the road, Kulloom had said. And there are other things . . . Things that are not so kind.
Cain glanced at Leah, who was continuing to stare up at the pile of rock, her face ashen. It would not do to spook her. Even if they were not alone, whatever might be watching could be some kind of animal, or it might be someone perfectly harmless, who simply preferred to remain hidden.
No reason to think it might be something . . . unnatural.
“I’m quite sure we’re alone, Leah.”
The little girl did not seem convinced. She crossed her arms and hugged herself. “Why haven’t we seen more people? And where are we going, anyway?”
“A city called Kurast.”
Leah’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a bad place.”
“Now, Leah—”
“My moth—Gillian told me it was haunted. Why would you want to take me there?” She took a step away from him. “You—you want to sacrifice me to some dark magic, don’t you?! You don’t want to help me at all. You’re . . . you’re a sorcerer who summons demons! Mother told me about people like you!”
Leah’s gaze went from side to side. Cain tried to offer reassurances, but he was at a loss for words; speaking more plainly or offering a logical solution, the way he might when dealing with an adult, did not seem to work with her.
He took a step forward and immediately knew he had made yet another mistake, but it was too late. Leah bolted back down the road for the path like a frightened rabbit, running as fast as her little legs would carry her.
“Wait!” Cain hobbled off the road after her, but the path was steep, and his knees began to protest more loudly. He thought about the long road he had ahead of him, the dangers he would face, and the problems a little girl could cause if she would not obey him. He watched her growing smaller as she continued up the hill, and kept on as quickly as he could, leaning on his staff for support, calling out to her again as she crested the top and disappeared.
Fresh panic washed over him, along with the memory of those lost and never found. The path seemed to widen and change before him, and for a moment he saw, with horrible clarity, an overturned wagon, one wheel still spinning, bright red blood splashed across its spokes as it flicked lazily around in the sunlight.
Cain blinked, wiping away the vision. He swallowed back a shriek of terror; his hand was in his sack again, fingers touching the folded paper in the hidden pocket. He withdrew his hand as if it had been scalded.
The path was empty, a desolate stretch of parched ground. The breath wheezed harshly in his lungs, and his throat grew tight. Why did children never listen, even when it was for their own good?
The day had turned darker by the time he neared the crest. Cain spotted her in the growing gloom. She was sitting on a rock a few feet off the path, head in her hands. At first he thought she was crying, but when she looked up, her face was dry.
“It’s no use,” she said. “I’ve nowhere to go, and nobody to help me.”
Cain stopped, leaning over on his knees, trying to catch his breath. His heart was like a runaway horse galloping through his chest. A wind came up, ruffling Leah’s cloak and bringing a chill deep into Cain’s bones.
Finally he straightened. “I’m trying to help you, Leah,” he said, as he got his wind back. “But you can’t . . . run off like that. You must understand that there are things . . . the road to Kurast is a dangerous one. A child could disappear in an instant, with nobody to witness what happened!”
“Are you trying to frighten me even more?”
Cain gathered himself for a moment, regaining control. “I am simply telling you the truth. It is my way, to speak plainly. There is evil in this world, things you cannot imagine. There are goatmen and demons and creatures even worse than that. It’s best to be cautious and prepared.”
Fresh shock whitened Leah’s face. For a moment he thought she might cry again, but she simply stood up off the rock, and when she looked at him again, her face was full of a child’s righteous anger. “Gillian used to talk like that too,” she said. “You’re strange. I don’t think I like you much.” She pointed down the other side of the hill. “I want to go there. Maybe they could help us.”
A small town seemed to squat in the valley below, ringed with a high stone wall and jungle, heavily fortified and partially hidden by a mist that had arisen suddenly and had begun creeping up the hillside. The town appeared dark and lifeless at first, but then a single light flickered like a beacon through the mist and seemed to dance, as if someone with a lantern was moving through the streets.
In his panic, Cain hadn’t even noticed it. He should have been relieved, but the bouncing light only served to deepen the sense of isolation, and after another moment it flickered again and went out.
He consulted his map again, but the little town did not appear on it. He peered through the gloom at the path they were on, which led down the other side of the hill and through the trees. It wouldn’t take them long to reach the gates. If they hurried, they could be there before the stars became visible.
Something about the entire scene worried him; there was a weight to the air, a sense of foreboding that he had learned over the years not to ignore. But they had little choice, he thought. Without food or water, they would not get much farther.
“Come on then,” Cain said, starting down the hill. “No sense in waiting here any longer. Let’s see if they’re hospitable.”
Another gust of wind swept over them, stronger this time. The wind brought the foul smell of rot along with it, like a stagnant bog, as the mist swallowed the ground below. When he glanced back, Leah was following him, clutching the cloak tightly to her throat.
The muscles of Cain’s thighs trembled with fatigue as he descended the steep path. He had not eaten since the few morsels of fish skin that morning, and although his body had been trained over his many months of wandering to expect this kind of treatment, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would not be able to take another step.
You are an old man, he thought, as he had dozens of times already during the past few weeks. You should be dozing on a farmer’s porch somewhere with a cup of tea, not out in the wilds searching for demons. As he walked, the boy from his dream the night before stayed with him, but of course it had not really happened that way. The boy had been gone for decades.
By the time they neared the town, night was close. They walked down a wide, gravel road flanked by tall, spindly trees nearly bare of leaves. The iron gates to the town remained shut, but two large men materialized from a well-concealed door in the stone wall. The guards were as tall as Cain and nearly twice as wide. They wore leather-trimmed breastplates and held double-bladed battle-axes.
The deepening gloom bled the color from the air. The mist was thicker here. It clung to the ground and swirled around the guards’ legs, making them appear to be floating apparitions cut off at the knees.
The two guards stepped closer together, blocking the way to the gates. They said nothing, their faces impassive, vaguely threatening.
“We have come many miles, and seek lodging,” Cain said. “We are unarmed and will pay for food and a bed to sleep in. We’ll be on our way in the morning.”
Cain went to his rucksack for a piece of gold, but the guards swung their axes into fighting position and stepped forward, ready to attack.
A shout came from behind the gates, and several figures materialized from the thickening mist. Two more guards released the locks and swung the gates open with a loud, squealing scream of metal as the guards stepped aside, standing at attention.
The man who walked through the gates was tall and cadaverously thin, with long, black hair swept away from his forehead. He wore expensive silk robes and gold jewelry on his fingers, and his smile was wide and friendly. He spread his long arms, as if welcoming home a favorite family member.
“I do apologize for these two,” he said, and waved a hand in the direction of the guards. “We are not normally so suspicious, but the times demand it, I am sorry to say. I am Lord Brand. You are on your way to Kurast?”
“We are,” Cain said, introducing himself. “And in need of your hospitality.”
“And you shall have it.” Lord Brand’s gaze swept over Leah, his glittering eyes seeming to linger upon her face for a little too long as his smile widened further. “Who might this be?”
“My niece,” Cain said. “Forgive me, but she is hungry. We’ve come a long way, and have not eaten since this morning.”
A howl went up from somewhere beyond them, the sound echoing through the valley, bringing chills to Cain’s spine. Brand looked to the trees, his smile fading, and he stepped aside, motioning them forward. “You’ll stay at my manor,” he said. “We should get behind the walls. These days it is not safe to remain outside after dark.”
The guards fell in behind as the small party walked through the gates and into the town. A dozen townspeople waited there with their lanterns held high. They all wore the same shapeless, gray clothing, and all of them stood with slack faces, their skin the color of their clothes. They had the skeletal look of the terminally ill, with sunken features and filmy eyes. Several of them muttered under their breath as if to themselves, and their gaze did not meet Cain’s as he passed. He wondered what strange illness might be sweeping the little town, and considered turning back with Leah and taking their chances in the jungle.
But the strange procession had its own momentum. He was swept along as Brand took the lead, and the sound of the gates clanging shut behind them rang through the empty streets like a harbinger of doom.
THIRTEEN
Lord Brand’s Manor
A few lights flickered in the windows of houses as they proceeded toward the center of town, but Leah did not see anyone else, and after a few minutes she dropped her gaze to her own feet and simply followed along behind Deckard Cain.
She had begun to regret asking him to come here. Something about this place made her terribly afraid, but she did not know why. Lord Brand acted friendly enough, but he looked strangely tall and misshapen, with his arms and legs so long and thin, and his smile made him look hungry.
The streets reminded her of home, with their looming stone houses and storefronts and narrow alleyways that seemed to lead nowhere. But Caldeum had been full of noise and activity during the early evening hours. There was no life here, nobody out shopping or headed to the local tavern for a drink and a meal. The townspeople walking with them muttered to themselves like madmen, their faces looking as though they hadn’t slept well in months. She was only eight years old, but she was perceptive for her age; Gillian had always told her that she could read people better than most adults. And what Leah felt about this place made her stomach churn.
She risked a glance at Cain, who was just ahead of her. He was favoring his right leg more heavily now, leaning on his staff with each step. When they had first met, he had seemed impossibly old to her, with his wrinkled face, white hair, bushy eyebrows, and long, stringy beard, and now he appeared to be about to collapse.
What if he falls down dead here, in the middle of the road? What will become of me?
At the thought of that, Leah’s fear became a near full-blown panic. She had run from him earlier because she had thought he was dangerous, but as odd as he was, he had done nothing other than try to protect her so far. Without him, Leah would be entirely alone. Now they were surrounded by people she trusted even less, and the old man was the only thing between her and starvation, or far worse.
She had had terrible dreams last night, of monsters that attacked her. She stared at the dark alleys on either side, imagining things watching them. Goatmen with glowing eyes and bloody mouths. Demons, looking for blood. They want you, Leah, and if they find you, you’re never coming back from that. Never. A sewer grate beckoned, its iron bars like teeth; she imagined claws wriggling up through it, grasping at her feet.
Another howl rose up from somewhere in the distance. The small procession stopped abruptly, and Leah stared at what appeared to be a small castle. It had its own stone walls and gate, a smaller ring inside the town’s larger one, and was built on the highest point of land, so that it appeared to loom over them. There were so many angles, turrets, and roofs it was impossible to make sense of its shape, and Leah became dizzy and looked away.
Lord Brand turned to face them with another broad smile. “My home,” he said, as two of the guards opened the gates and stepped aside, standing at attention. “The Brand manor. You are most welcome here, for as long as you like.”
Something about his voice brought deeper chills to Leah’s spine. She glanced around at the houses that huddled against the night, and for a moment she was sure she saw movement in the shadows, something that slithered like tentacles, but when she focused on the spot, there was nothing there at all.
Cain and Leah followed Brand and the guards through the gates and up the huge, sweeping front steps, leaving the other townspeople behind. The double doors of the manor opened with a slow screech, revealing a cavernous entry hall with an enormous fireplace at the far end and a fire roaring in the hearth. Torches blazed on the walls, illuminating a series of elaborate tapestries hanging by iron hooks. A breath of air guttered the torches and set the tapestries fluttering, their shadows moving across the stone floor like black wings.
The fire seemed to do little for the cold, which made Leah shiver and draw her cloak more tightly around her thin frame. There was a strange smell in the air. She looked up, but the ceiling arched so far above her head that she could barely make it out. She clutched her arms to her chest and tried to think of warm summer days, but the darkness closed in again, making her want to scream.
Brand’s footsteps echoed as he led them through the hall. They seemed to walk far longer than they should, but when Leah glanced back, she was surprised to find that they had barely moved; the entry doors were just a few steps away.
