Read The Geomancer Online

Authors: Clay Griffith

The Geomancer (19 page)

A few people appeared at the low stone wall around the village, peering at the approaching strangers and craning their necks to see the airship in the distance. Greyfriar wondered if these people had had any contact with outsiders before. While most of the villagers hovered by an open gate, five men marched out toward Adele's small group of Greyfriar, Anhalt, Major Shirazi, and two Harmattan. These greeters appeared to be elders. They wore thick sheepskin coats and fur-topped boots. Greyfriar didn't fail to notice some of the villagers near the gate carried muskets. Antiquated guns, but he would think still effective. He could hear snatches of their language as those at the gate chattered excitedly among themselves.

Anhalt stopped when the elders were a few yards away. He bowed and said, “We seek shelter.” He spoke Hindi, hoping that the trade language still found purchase this far in the mountains.

The elders replied back in kind. “You are welcome to the warmth of our fires.”

Anhalt bowed to them again. He informed Adele of their welcome and then introduced the party as an expedition from Equatorian territory in India. He purposefully left out Adele's title. By the lack of response to even the name
Greyfriar
, it could be assumed the hero's exploits had not traveled this far.

The chief elder followed suit with introductions, calling himself Gyalo. He then waved the outsiders to follow him back to town. They were soon wading through curious crowds that lined the narrow streets and followed the foreigners, laughing, whispering, and gaping at them. The men almost all wore fur-lined hats and long, heavy coats. Full-cheeked women stood behind them. The stone houses were clustered together into blocks.

Gyalo led them to a building on the far side of the village where they finally left the bustle of curious onlookers behind. The interior was dark and smelled overpoweringly of something that Greyfriar couldn't identify. Despite the suddenly rancid stench, everyone kept their expressions neutral and pleasant.

Adele breathed out a sigh of relief as they entered a large room with a small fire burning at the center. Compared to the frigid outside, this place almost felt warm. She slipped back her hood and loosened a button on her coat. The floor was dirt and the walls, blackened by the smoke, were covered with intricate paintings of landscapes and gods. Gyalo invited everyone to sit on wooden frames covered with a cushion or two.

A woman, most likely Gyalo's wife or daughter, with her hair done in multiple tight braids, bustled about the fire and soon was dispensing some sort of hot liquid that Anhalt informed them was
po-cha
, or yak-butter tea. Greyfriar easily identified it as the source of the rank smell. Still, the thick tea seemed to be traditional and expected, so they all took a sip. From Adele's pinched face, it appeared to be an acquired taste. To Greyfriar, it tasted like any human food or drink. Bland. General Anhalt drank it almost eagerly, obviously familiar with the beverage.

Once the tea was finished, Anhalt conversed with Gyalo for a few minutes. He then leaned over and informed Adele that the elders were happy to have visitors. They took it as a good omen because they were preparing to celebrate a festival and would like the foreigners to ­participate.

“Festival?” Adele asked. “That sounds nice. I don't know that we have time to enjoy it. Could you ask him about the monastery? We need to know if we're in the village Selkirk talked about.”

Anhalt repeated Adele's questions back to the elder. The leathery face hardened with suspicion. He spoke harsh words to Anhalt. Major Shirazi slid his hand toward his sidearm, but Adele kept her polite face directed at Gyalo.

Greyfriar had already begun to grasp elements of the language, and he could tell that Anhalt's calm reply offered great deference to the elder. In the face of the general's respect, Gyalo seemed embarrassed by his outburst. He continued in a more pleasant tone. Greyfriar could sense that Anhalt was drawing the village elder out with questions and amazed reactions, creating a bond of respect with Gyalo. He couldn't understand exactly what the two were discussing, so he settled back to wait patiently for the translation.

Finally the general nodded to Gyalo, then said to Adele, “Well, this is the right village.”

Adele frowned at Anhalt's curious expression. “Is there something else, General?”

“Perhaps.” Anhalt's lips held an odd bemused look. “He did inform me that the monastery is actually a fortress of demons. They are apparently very dangerous and will devour any human without provocation because they protect an ancient power. Gyalo considers us very foolhardy for seeking them out.”

“Foolhardy?” Greyfriar intoned drily. “Us?”

“We appreciate his concern,” Adele said with a cool glance at Greyfriar but had excitement in her voice at the mention of an ancient power, “but will he give us specific directions to the demon fortress?”

“He will do better than that,” Anhalt replied, his expression turning serious once more. “He will show us the Demon King.”

C
HAPTER 18

The eager group of Adele, Greyfriar, Anhalt, and Shirazi trailed Gyalo through the village. All attempts to discuss the monastery had been rebuffed by Gyalo and the other elders. They didn't deny it existed; they simply had no interest in talking about it further. The festival however was another matter. Preparations were already stirring the whole village into a frenzy of excited activity. The elder spoke over his shoulder to the foreigners, explaining everything to Anhalt, who translated even as Gyalo continued to talk.

“The festival will begin in earnest tomorrow and will culminate in a ceremony at sunrise two days hence where they will execute their most dreaded enemy. The Demon King.”

Gyalo led the outsiders to a stone hut in a rough courtyard. The windows had been mortared up, and the only entrance was a thick wooden door flanked by two formidable guards. He nodded imperiously to the sentries and swept inside with the foreigners on his heels.

The darkness inside made everyone falter a moment, except Greyfriar. He scanned the small entry room while Gyalo lit yak-butter lamps and led the way through an open doorway. The soft lamp glow fell on a hunched, naked figure bound with thick rope and by chains whose links were interwoven with prayer scarves. The Demon King's arms were yoked behind his back. A short length of chain ran from his neck to his bound knees as he knelt upon the rough dirt floor almost as if in forced prayer. The silver-haired head didn't even try to lift as they entered.

Greyfriar studied the prisoner and looked at Adele. They both knew that this demon was a vampire. If the old figure had ever been some sort of king, he was certainly brought low now. The prisoner's eyes were closed and his breathing was even, as if his discomfort was minimal. Despite his obvious age, the vampire seemed fit and muscular.

Gyalo boasted proudly over the prone vampire and kicked him hard in the ribs. Now the prisoner opened his eyes but didn't react as Greyfriar expected. Instead of hissing in outrage, the vampire remained placid. Gyalo leaned down and snarled maliciously at the demon, who persisted with his serene countenance.

As Gyalo strutted around the prisoner, Anhalt translated the man's great pleasure in capturing the prize. “Apparently, the Demon King was no match for the villagers. Their might overwhelmed it weeks ago. The demon was wandering alone, as it sometimes does, seeking to steal into the village and prey on their elders or a child.”

Gyalo took that moment to kick the vampire again, spitting out a string of vile words.

“It failed,” Anhalt related. “The villagers were too fast, too strong. No one was killed as they captured it, and now its death will be a message to its brethren.”

“Ask Gyalo how to they intend to execute him?” Adele said, but Anhalt already had the answer.

“He will be beheaded. Then the body will be cremated. They would feed it to the vultures but they're afraid it might turn the vultures into demons.”

Adele winced, surprised at her sudden sympathy for the vampire. “How many has the
demon
killed here in the village?”

Gyalo replied with wild gesticulations. Anhalt translated. “He says that for generations the demons have been responsible for all of the sickness and death in the village, both human and animal. But when the king dies, the other demons will scatter, and all the village's troubles will end.”

“How fortunate for them.” Greyfriar's brows knitted together. While vampires might certainly have preyed on this village, Gyalo's ideas were superstitious nonsense. Vampires didn't drink animal blood and were unlikely to have caused illness; death, certainly, but not illness. Greyfriar's gaze slipped again to the bound vampire who remained quiet. The prisoner's chest rose and fell slowly. There were fresh scars and welts on his naked body, no doubt from frequent beatings by the triumphant villagers.

Gyalo escorted them all out and took them back to the town's central courtyard, where a platform was being constructed and decorated like a shrine with paint and colorful scarves. Off to one side was a thick chunk of wood about three feet high. There was a low depression in the top of the wood. A chopping block.

Adele leaned closer to Greyfriar and Anhalt. “We don't have time to worm our way into their good graces with our pleasant manners. I think it's time for something a little more impressive.”

Gyalo stared around the deck of the
Edinburgh
in the morning sun, as if he had walked onto another planet. Shirazi and the Harmattan were drawn up in respectful formation before the main causeway. Captain Hariri and his officers posed on the quarterdeck above in uniforms as sharp as they could manage. The village elder took in the complexity of the airship.

“Captain,” Adele called out, “could you take us up, please.”

Gyalo grasped the rail with the first bump of air. With wide eyes, he watched as the Earth receded from the hull of the ship. The villagers on the ground pointed and cheered. Gyalo waved. At two hundred yards, the capstan was locked. The
Edinburgh
hung in the buffeting wind like a gigantic child's balloon.

Adele pulled Gyalo from the rail, and said to Anhalt, “Let's step into my cabin and have a chat.” She waved to Hariri. “Mission accomplished. You may reel in
Edinburgh
.”

Within minutes, a steward brought pots of tea—Equatorian tea—and a tray of meats, cheese, and bread to Adele's cabin. Gyalo couldn't stop smiling.

Through Anhalt, Adele said, “Tell me about the monastery,” as she poured tea.

“It was built many centuries ago by the wisest of shamans. They placed it far away from anywhere so they would be safe from the evil magicks of the world.”

“What were they afraid of?”

“They were protecting something. You see, they had the Tear of Death.”

Adele tried to appear calm. “I see. So this Tear of Death actually exists?”

“Yes. In the monastery. The wise shamans and lamas are gone. The Demon King and his horde guard it now.”

“And what is it exactly?”

Gyalo nibbled cheese and set it aside, unimpressed. “Long ago, when the world was young, the gods shed a tear and it fell to Earth. Luckily it was found by a very wise monk who hid it away because he knew it was far too dangerous to be known by unenlightened men.”

“Why?”

“It is a piece of the god of death. The only dharma it knows is death. It does not seek to teach. It only wants to kill everyone, everywhere.” The old man smiled. “However, we are saved because it cannot act on its own. It can only do what men tell it to do. And all the men who were wise enough to know how to use it are gone. The only danger comes when men become demons. Demons have the heart to kill, but only men have the knowledge. Only when demons and men are one will the Tear of Death be used.”

“And then what?”

“Then we all die,” Gyalo replied simply. “The heavens and the Earth will separate. The path to enlightenment will be severed. The demons win once and for all.”

“Where is this monastery?”

The elder looked confused. “It's high in the mountains.”

“The mountains,” Adele retorted, unable to hide her annoyance, “are vast. Something a bit more precise would be helpful.”

Gyalo reached for more honey with a self-satisfied laugh. “There is no way to be more accurate. You simply look for it until you find it.” He smirked as if they were foolish outsiders who didn't understand the rules of nature.

Adele, however, had no intention of searching aimlessly. There was one person in the village that knew precisely where the monastery was.

C
HAPTER 19

The cold slap of the night made Adele pull her thick coat around her neck and plant a gloved hand on her hood. Greyfriar wore nothing more than his usual wool uniform, far too thin for a normal human in this frigid land. The icy wind flapped through his cloak, but he didn't care. The horns and drums had stopped. The bonfires had burned down to glowing piles of embers. The festivities were done for the night.

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