Tivi's Dagger Read online

  I placed my snail in the center of the leaf beside his, feeling a pang of trepidation. Surely he did not mean what I thought? In such matters I was as virgin as he was, and did not warm much to the thought of being taken thus by one so vigorous and well-endowed. Remembering the wincing and barely-masked squeals of the women I had prepared so — at their behest, as the act did not result in unwanted bastards — I hoped I had not selected the snail equivalent of an aging nag, as I was wont to do back when the Protectors still permitted donkey racing in Azmara.

  “Go!” Kari commanded as we released the snails, which did not move.

  I chuckled. “Perhaps there will be no winners today.”

  “Patience, Ned.”

  Kari smiled as the snails began to poke their heads out from their shells and quickly realized they were in the dangerous realm of sunshine. “There they go!”

  The tiny creatures headed in opposite directions toward the edges of the leaf, but I was sure that hair grew faster than they moved. I pictured Mother Kiti sitting calmly and contemplating life while her excitable grandson leapt and cheered on the slowest of creatures in its exertions. Kari was beaming with excitement and his warm, wide smile was like all the joy in the world. I took his hand with a grin.

  “You’re losing, Ned!”

  “Not by much!”

  I watched, strangely caught up in the proceedings, as Kari’s snail inched its way toward the edge and mine ground to a halt, apparently to contemplate life and all its mysteries. “Go on, damn you!”

  My urgings seemed to have an effect on the creature as it revised its course and made for the closest edge with renewed vigor. It left a trail like a thread of shining silk. Almost simultaneously the snails reached the edges of the leaf, before mine dipped under first with what I fancied to be a gloating flick of its tail.

  “Well, there you go,” I said, almost relieved. “A fast start is not always the best one.”

  Kari hugged me and whispered in my ear. “Congratulations, my Ned. Now you’ll have to take your winnings.”

  I looked into his eyes and realized he’d been hoping for it all along. When we lay back down on the rug, he fetched a small vial of oil from his satchel and smiled at me. The sight of it glittering in the sunshine made my breath catch in my throat at the thought of what we were about to do. For some reason it seemed such a momentous thing, even though I’d had more lovers than hot meals and was well used to the fuck. He was so beautiful at that moment, flushed and happy, and I stroked my finger down his cheek. Slowly, I touched my lips against his and he kissed me back with a sigh. I savored the taste of his tongue, the feel of his soft lips and the springy chest hair under my fingertips. He buried his fingers in my hair with a groan and I observed he was fully hard once more, a sure sign of youth.

  “You think of everything,” I muttered, tapping the little vial, and he smiled against my mouth.

  “I’ve spent so many nights reading of the act of love, my Ned. I’ve longed for this moment for so many years.” His hand found my prick and squeezed a grunt out of me. He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with arousal as he spread his muscular thighs and lay back on his elbows, giving me access to anything I wanted.

  “Patience. We can’t go at it like a battering ram just yet.”

  Slowly I prepared him with oil-slicked fingers, watching the expressions — lust, pain, surprise — play across his face as he gasped and moaned. Finally his body began to open up to me and I could scarcely restrain myself from becoming the battering ram I had warned him of. As I pushed my aching prick slowly inside him I felt his body tense. For long minutes I stroked his chest and belly, kissing him until he became used to the position. He lifted his knees higher and finally, I was buried inside him to the hilt.

  Never had I felt such pure happiness as I did at that moment, being united in flesh with this glorious youth as the sun beat down hard upon my back.

  We moved slowly at first until the heat overtook me and I bit down on his neck as he rocked with me, faster and faster. His hands clutched at my back, urging me on, and when I looked down between our bodies I saw glistening threads like spiders’ silk trailing from the now-purple tip of his prick and catching on the soft hairs of his belly. “Oh, it hurts,” he breathed, “but so good.”

  A few moments later we reached a frenzied rhythm and then his eyes rolled back in his head and his jaw sagged open. I thought he had died until I felt the wetness spouting up between us and then his arse gripped my prick hard. I groaned and shot my seed into the heat of his channel as my arms gave out and I collapsed on top of him, unable to stop the flood of endearments spilling from my lips into his ear as I buried my nose in his hair. Whiteness tinged my vision and I barely knew what I was saying as all my senses floated away on the river of pleasure’s afterglow.

  We lay there in the sunshine, catching our breath, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, planting soft kisses over each other’s faces. At that moment I would have killed to keep him in my arms. There were tears in his eyes and I wiped them away with a fingertip. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, my Ned. Thank you, truly. It was everything I imagined and more. I love you too.”

  Had I told him such a thing? I tried to remember but could think of little but the dizzying pleasure of losing myself in his body. No matter. Words spoken in passion were naught but smoke from the fire, quick to die. Surely Kari would know that, versed as he was in the theories and acts of love.

  I rolled off him, elated and yet exhausted. I did not have the youthful vigor he had, and was sure that I was done for the day. He slipped his leg between mine and hugged an arm across my chest, nestling his head against my shoulder. We dozed idly, content to be silent and listen to the soft lapping of the water on rocks and the melodic cries of the birds as the shadows of the trees began to lengthen, and time seemed to spin away into one long, wonderful irrelevance.

  ***

  “Where in the name of the Thirteen have you been all this time?” My brother’s fury brought me back down to the earth with a resounding thump.

  I placed the dried clothes on the table and tried to look innocent. “I went with our guide to the Vanishing Lake in order to wash our clothes. Thankfully the sun was kind to us and they dried quickly. Look, your shirt.”

  This seemed to enrage Brin more, and I was glad that Kari had decided to see to the birds before coming in to eat.

  “You went through my things, wretch?”

  “No! You had left your dirty garments by the door. Why would I want to go through your things?”

  His dark brows knotted together and he glared at me as if he was trying to see into my soul, then mercifully, he seemed to relax. “It was a good idea, I suppose. My vestments were not getting any fresher, for certain.”

  Kel had hidden his translations away, presumably wishing his heretical activities to remain hidden from my brother. He knelt at the fire, stirring the cookpot with a wooden spoon. He looked preoccupied and not a little worried. He cleared his throat. “I have prepared some soup, if you are hungry.”

  Lana emerged from the tiled room clad only in a thick towel. “The water is finished,” she announced, separating her damp black curls into three thick strands and beginning to braid it with practiced swiftness. “By the Gods, what a day! The path around the mountain is truly precarious. Rocky, loose stones, not firm underfoot at all. We followed it some, then returned for the donkey but despite the lure of a carrot he would not set foot upon it, so our choice is made. The tunnel is dark but mercifully large and well cut. If we stay away from the walls, we may be lucky enough to avoid the spider webs. Such a size they are! With luck a torch should keep their creators at bay.” She looked at me with a grin. “You have caught the sun well today, Ned.”

  “Indeed,” Brin agreed, sitting down at the table. “It’s well for some, lying idle in the sun while others do the donkey work.” He began to ladle the soup into his bowl. It was dark and watery with crudely cut chunks of fleshy root floating on
top, but the warmth and the smell enticed my empty belly nevertheless. He swallowed a spoonful of soup with a wince then looked at me with a resigned sigh. “I suppose I should expect little else from you, brother.”

  I was about to remind Brin that he had left me asleep before venturing out, but instead I looked at my hands and remembered my place as dictated by the Rite. “Yes, brother.”

  He glared at me once more and I wondered what on earth I could do to stop him from hating me. It was amazing how my brother could simply remove all my happiness with a single raised eyebrow. I stared into my soup and stirred it glumly, watching the roots float round and round. Kel was no cook but it was not the worst soup I had ever tasted. The roots were chewy and occupied my mouth for some minutes while my brother and Lana discussed the best way to create a suitable torch which would light our way through the tunnel.

  “I must say, Brindar,” Kel burst out suddenly, just as the door creaked open and Kari entered the hut peering at a tiny scroll of parchment. “I am not one bit happy about the prospect of going through this tunnel! And that’s before we even contemplate these caverns under Khar Tam, whatever monsters lie therein. We’re men of Lis, born to walk in the sun, not creep upon our bellies in the dark like wretched insects! If I’m honest, it’s only the longing to see Thar Mati that keeps my feet following yours, for I’m a scholar, not a warrior. I fear we will meet a grisly end in the web of some giant spider…destined to be its next meal, if we don’t plunge to our doom first!”

  Brin opened his mouth to reply, but Kari cut him off. “It is not a good idea to venture off alone, Kelthras,” he warned, slipping the parchments into his satchel. “The new Keeper will arrive in the morning, with warriors to guard him. It is not safe with agents of the Blood Red about, for we know what abominations walk with them. I can only pray that the warriors we saw previously in the forest have already found the source of this terrible plague and ended it right there, for the death of the necromancers is the only way to stop such evil.” He closed his eyes and began to murmur a prayer.

  Lana gave Brin a strange look before turning to address us all. “Turning back is not an option for any of us. Earlier, Brindar and I crossed paths once more with that woman who was staying at the inn back in Kalati, who travelled with that monstrous hound. She took the tunnel without a blink, but before entering she told us a worrying tale. We are being followed.”

  Brin’s expression was unreadable. He turned from us and strolled outside, hands thrust in his pockets almost nonchalantly, leaving us staring open-mouthed at his back and then the swinging door.

  Lana went on. “Our pursuers arrived in Kalati after we had left, prepared to slip coins into pockets to learn if some traders from Lis had come that way. Thankfully these people are a suspicious lot, and feigned ignorance. Our warrior friend thought nothing of it and her warning was an afterthought, after she had cast mirthful aspersions upon our ability to pass through the caverns of Khar Tam. All she was able to tell us was that they wore cloaks which cast their faces in shadow, and their accents betrayed them as natives of Lis.”

  “By the Thirteen!” Kel lamented loudly. “As if the dangers ahead are not enough, our enemies are now lining up at our behinds!”

  I snorted with laughter and quickly turned it into a cough. Lana shrugged. “Brindar seems strangely unperturbed, so it may be nothing. They may be simply couriers, hired to deliver us some news. In my experience, it is best not to let the imagination have free reign.”

  “Or they may be assassins, waiting to slit our throats as we sleep!” Kel’s imagination was certainly running rampant and he stared fearfully at the door as if he expected a band of cloaked mercenaries to break through it at any second, swords in hand.

  “Any assassin worth their salt would surely have tracked us to this hut and finished their business by now.” Lana concluded her meal by sucking on the spoon. “It’s my mind that they’ve taken the tunnel already, and will be waiting for us in the next village.”

  Brin returned, brushing oats from his hands, and went to his room without a word. I was somewhat comforted by the fact that my brother did not appear unduly worried about the news of our pursuers. In fact, he appeared to be in a better mood than before and I puzzled over the reason for his apparent nonchalance as we took our places on the floor, ready to sleep. My skin was beginning to prickle with the heat of the sun it had been exposed to previously, and I recalled the glorious events of the afternoon with a smile in the dark.

  Kari took my hand under the blankets and I turned to look at him once more. His eyes were closed already and there was a faint smile on his lips. Obviously his memory had returned him to the lake as mine had, and we drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  We awoke in the middle of the night to the faint glow of the dying fire in the grate, disoriented and fearful at the sound of a terrible banging and scratching at the door. It sounded as if a beast was trying to claw the door from its very hinges. Faint moonlight shone through the window. I sat up, instantly alert, as my brother stomped into the room.

  “What’s that infernal noise?” he bellowed, sword in hand.

  Lana was already on her feet, and I heard the metal click of her belt as she fastened her daggers by her side. “Do not open that door, Brindar!”

  Kari clutched at me in the dark and I could hear his breath quicken with fear.

  “I’m going out the back way,” Lana said. “Whatever it is, it will surely destroy the hut to get to us by the sounds of it. I will lead the thing away.”

  “You will surely die, Lana!” Kel cried, wringing his hands. “If it is indeed a Night Walker, remember that they cannot be killed unless the bones are scattered far and wide!”

  Lana patted her daggers. “It may not die but it will not walk without legs.”

  The door was rattling viciously in its frame. A desperate howling emitted from the creature outside, and I was seized with panic. Were there others nearby which would be alerted by such a cry? I could not let my brother and my best friend face such a terror alone. From somewhere deep inside, I found a kernel of courage. Pulling on my cloak, I followed through the back door, which creaked disagreeably as we tried to exit as quietly as possible.

  The mountain air was chilly and our breath formed tiny clouds as we crept around the hut to lay eyes upon whatever was making the terrible noise. Just for a moment the clouds swept aside and illuminated the forest with moonlight. I stifled a moan of terror and disbelief as I laid eyes upon the gaping hole in the earth that had once held the body of the Keeper.

  “What evil is this?” muttered my brother, but the dead tone in his voice suggested that he already knew the answer.

  When we rounded the corner to face our foe, we saw that it was not one of the creatures, but two. The dismembered corpse of the Keeper howled to the sky and raked the door once more with clawed hands. The stench of them was almost overpowering and their eyes seemed illuminated from within by a terrible light.

  Their faces were writhing with maggots and the dirt of the grave.

  Faces which were slowly turning to us.

  With whining breaths that made the hair at my neck rise, they fixed their unholy eyes upon us and began to move.

  “By the Gods,” Brin muttered, grabbing Lana’s arm and backing off into the woods.

  “Are you insane, brother?” I whispered. “There may be more among the trees!”

  Nonetheless, I followed them, keeping the creatures in my vision as they continued to move toward us, rasping and clawing at the air. They were mercifully slow but their legs were thick, and I knew then that Lana’s daggers were not sharp enough to cleave such limbs from the bodies. Even my brother’s sword was surely too blunt for the task, for it had been many years since he had seen proper battle.

  “We may be doomed,” Lana whispered, drawing her daggers, “but I’ll not go down easily.”

  “If we could lead them around until sunrise…” Brin muttered, but as the creatures gained momentum I knew th
at that idea too was a lost cause.

  “Where is your armor, Brin?” I whispered.

  “Beside my bed. But I fear it will be of no use.”

  “I have an idea.”

  Something Kel had told me previously sparked a crazed plan in my mind. I sprinted away from Brin and Lana, causing the creatures to stop in their tracks for a moment, unsure of whom to pursue. My heart was thumping and my mind had miraculously come alive. I burst through the back door and into my brother’s room to grab a piece of his armor, which I knew would be the only truly shiny surface around.

  So overcome by my own cleverness, I held it up to Kari and Kel on my way past with a half-crazed laugh. “Watch this!” I cried, rushing back outside into the darkness. The cold mountain air filled my lungs and for a second I felt invincible and more alive than ever.

  Just show the creatures their own faces, and we would be saved!

  Bellowing loudly and waving my arms, I attracted the attention of the Night Walkers, who turned and began to shuffle toward me, clawed hands outstretched. I held the breastplate out toward them. They did not stop their advance and gained speed. In growing dismay and horror, I gazed helplessly at the sky as providence turned its back upon me. Clouds were gathering once again in front of the moon, and I almost wept with frustration as I realized there was not enough light to cast a clear reflection.

  The Night Walkers began to run and I heard my brother call my name and unsheathe his sword. But it was too late. The creatures were upon me. I recoiled at the stench of rotting flesh. Recklessly, I held my ground. Their clawed hands stretched out, towards my belly, and their slavering mouths were dark holes in their faces.

  Desperation lent me memory and I focused my mind upon the fire in the grate, hoping it still held flame. Holding out one hand and the breastplate in the other, I bellowed the Words of Summoning I thought I’d forgotten. Fire flickered in my palm then bloomed brightly upwards. The reflection from Brin’s shiny breastplate cast the glow onto the wretched dead and I felt, rather than heard, the unearthly howls as the fragments of their souls screamed back to paradise, doubtless filled with horror at the sight of what they had become.