The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet (30 page)

Achilios showed him another spot. Finally satisfied, they halted again. While Mendeln and Uldyssian gathered fuel for the fire, the hunter and Serenthia began the process of skinning and cooking the meat.

“Don’t stray far from the camp,” Uldyssian reminded his brother as they left, Mendeln’s condition worrying him.

“I will take care. Do the same.”

While there were plenty of trees, finding viable firewood was not so simple. The plant life had a constant moistness to it. Uldyssian picked what he could, cautious in his task lest some vermin or animal hiding in the bush took umbrage at his presence. Unfortunately, due to conditions, Uldyssian soon found himself disobeying his own orders to stay close; there just was not enough good fuel nearby.

In order to make up for the necessity of searching farther away, Uldyssian kept a careful eye on his position relative to the camp. This encouraged him to go yet farther afield, and gradually the pile in his arm grew to something useful.

Behind him, he heard the rustling of branches. Aware of how far out he had strayed, Uldyssian suspected that one of his friends had come in search of him. He turned around—

And dropped the firewood.

The behemoth stood half again as tall as him and more than twice as wide. At first, Uldyssian thought it a demon, for it had a vague resemblance to a man, in that there were two arms, a pair of legs, and a head, but beyond that was a creature so bizarre that surely it had not been born of his world.

Yet, if a demon, it was a very docile one. In fact, although its face was much in the shadow of the night, Uldyssian could for some reason sense that there was an intelligence there, one that was driven by more than the thirst for mayhem and blood.

The giant shifted slightly, but not in any manner that caused Uldyssian alarm. In that flash of movement, more details became apparent. The entire torso had a rough finish to it that reminded him of nothing less than wood. Indeed, one limb ended not in a hand or paw, but a great, thorny club upon whose flat head was etched runes of some sort. The other arm had a hand, but there was also a broad, sharply bent formation that started near the elbow and looked to the human like a living shield.

Two bat-wing horns rose above the head, which was squat and heavily browed. Uldyssian could detect no mouth or nose and the eyes were but deep crevasses.

The behemoth strode toward him at an oddly leisurely pace, and as it moved, there was not the least sound. Uldyssian understood that the rustling he had heard earlier had been purposely meant. The creature had wanted him to be forewarned.

“Are you…are you the one who followed us?” Uldyssian finally asked.

The figure did not answer. Instead, with astonishingly graceful movements, it went down on one knee before the human.

At that moment, Achilios’s voice came from the direction of the camp. “Uldyssian! Where are you? Uldyssian—”

His gaze strayed toward the voice. A moment later, the archer appeared.

“Am I going to have to keep searching for you every time you stray away from a camp?” Achilios asked cheerfully.

Uldyssian’s eyes widened at such a mundane question in the presence of so astonishing a being as the jungle dweller. He looked to the creature for its reaction…and saw then why Achilios acted the way he did. The behemoth was gone, as if he had never been there.

The hunter noticed his tension and all humor vanished. “What is it?”

“It…
he
—” Yes, for some reason, Uldyssian knew his visitor had been male. “—was here.”

“What…the thing tracking us?” Achilios started to ready his bow, but Uldyssian quickly put a stop to the action.

“He means no harm. He…he knelt there.”

“Before you?”

Uldyssian wanted to deny that, but finally nodded. “He knelt before me.” The farmer went into quick detail, giving even a cursory description of the creature. “And then, when I looked in your direction, he simply vanished.”

“Which means that it was
you
specifically that he wanted to see, old friend. You.”

“He may have never seen a human like us, that’s all. It could’ve been Mendeln or you. Since Malic used her, Serenthia usually stays near the camp.”

His companion did not see it that way. “There were plenty of chances to view me, especially that first time. Mendeln, too. He wanted to see you, Uldyssian. You must face that.”

“There’s no reason.”

Achilios turned back toward the camp, but although he moved casually, the bow remained in his grip. “Only in your eyes, Uldyssian, only in your eyes…”

Despite their unusual night visitor having shown no hostility, Uldyssian did not rest well. He expected other strange beings to follow in the wake of the first, some of them surely with more sinister intent. Yet, the day came without incident. The party ate what was left of the meat, then set out again.

“How far is Toraja’s region now?” he asked his brother as they rode.

“Several days yet,” Mendeln replied. Further information, he did not supply and Uldyssian settled back into the saddle. He was already sick of the jungle and continually sick of himself.

Small creatures flittered through the branches, some of them recognizable, others almost as unsettling as the behemoth. However, Uldyssian sensed that these were simple animals, not some mysterious, intelligent being, such as had confronted him.

What did the confrontation mean? He refused to believe that Achilios was right. There was nothing to Uldyssian. He was a fraud, a mockery.

With such thoughts, he rode through the day and on into the night. They traveled late, it taking Achilios some time to find a clearing large enough for them to use as a place to sleep.

Uldyssian had no desire to leave the safety of the campsite, but, as ever, the hunt for firewood demanded it of him and the others. He tried to keep close, this time, but the pickings were slight and necessity once more demanded he widen his search.

With growing wariness, Uldyssian gathered one piece after another. Each moment, he expected the giant to confront him, but the closest he had come to an encounter so far was an irate toad the size of his head that leapt out from under a dead branch Uldyssian had just grabbed.

Uldyssian returned with his arms full and his mood as black as the night. He ate sparingly from Achilios’s newest catch—some sort of huge rabbit—then slept fitfully until a hand shook him awake.

Believing it to be the behemoth, Uldyssian jerked back. However, it was only the hunter, awaking him for his turn on guard duty.

“Easy there!” Achilios muttered. “Are you sure you want to take watch?”

“I’d rather be up.”

“As you like.”

Uldyssian grabbed his sword and walked to the edge of the camp. As was the practice, he kept watch first from one vantage point, then, after a few minutes, quietly went to another. In this way, he also kept more alert.

Eventually, however, time did take its toll. When he was certain that he dared not stay on watch any longer, Uldyssian sheathed his sword and went to wake Mendeln, who was next. After Mendeln would come Serenthia and then Achilios again, if necessary. The three men would have preferred to rotate the night between them, but Serenthia had insisted, pointing out that she was just as capable with a sword as they were…a piece of training done at the insistence of her late father.

Uldyssian approached his brother’s location…only to find Mendeln not there. That was not uncommon, necessity making its demands whenever it chose. He paused, aware that it could not be too long.

But after several minutes, there was still no sign of Mendeln.

Uldyssian tried to tell himself that it would only be a moment longer, but then that moment passed and still there was no hint of his brother’s return. Uldyssian glanced at the ground and made out a single footprint. Not yet wishing to disturb the others, he drew his weapon and started in the direction that the print was pointing.

The way was troublesome. He was forced to hack at the branches. Twice Uldyssian whispered Mendeln’s name, both times to no success.

His heart pounding faster, Uldyssian doubled his pace. Mendeln
had
to have come this way.

A slight sound from the side made him pause. When it came again, he turned toward it. It might be his brother, but it also might be something more sinister.

Or…it could be the creature again.

Despite the risk, Uldyssian pushed on. Mendeln was out here; that was what mattered most. If it was the creature, then perhaps it could even help him. The thought seemed ludicrous, yet, Uldyssian knew that if he ran into the jungle dweller, he
would
ask it for aid.

From a slightly different direction came more movement. Uldyssian froze. A breath later, from yet a third direction there was a noise.

Whatever lurked out here, there was more than one.

Images of morlu swept through his head. Uldyssian considered retreating to the camp, but it was already too late. He heard more activity in the jungle, all of it converging on his location.

A murky form moved among the trees, then another, and another. Ducking low, Uldyssian closed on the nearest. Despite his failures, he had no intention of merely standing still as the fiends slaughtered him and his companions. Even if he could kill but one, it would be some small victory…and all Uldyssian could ask for.

The black form assisted him by veering his way. As the figure neared, Uldyssian noted that the head was unencumbered by the monstrous ram’s skull helmet of the Temple’s infernal minions.

Peace Warders, then. Or perhaps even Inquisitors. The Cathedral of Light had been oddly silent all this time, even though Uldyssian was certain that they were still interested in him.

His adversary was now so near that he could hear the rapid breathing. In fact, had Uldyssian not known better, he would have sworn that the warrior sounded uneasy, even a little frightened.

Taking some grim pleasure in that, Uldyssian maneuvered around the figure. A little more and they would both be in position.

The dark form abruptly changed direction again, this time striding directly toward where Uldyssian hid.

Unwilling to wait any longer, the son of Diomedes leapt at him.

What should have been a quick, mortal thrust failed utterly, his foe avoiding it by accidentally stumbling to the side. The two men became entangled. Their weapons fell at the same time. Uldyssian cursed, knowing that such a loss meant far more to him than it did the other. He was surrounded by enemy, his one chance to in some small way redeem himself now all but gone.

His fighting became more frantic. By sheer force alone, he managed to end up on top. His hands grappled for the guard’s throat.

But before Uldyssian could make good his hope, other hands pulled him off of his intended victim. His arms were wrapped behind his back. The area filled with armed figures.

Someone brought a torch. It was thrust in his face, no doubt so that he could be identified for the sake of some high cleric of one of the sects.

“’Tis him!” a harsh voice declared.

Uldyssian expected to be clapped in irons…but instead his arms were released. The figures surrounding him stepped back.

And, one by one, they went down on their knees, leaving only the torchbearer. The man held the flames close to his own face as he stared at Uldyssian.

“Praise be! We’ve found you, Holy One!” blurted
Romus
.

Mendeln had awakened with the feeling that someone had just called his name. At first, he thought it his brother and that made him stand up and look around. But when Mendeln saw no sign of Uldyssian, his suspicions grew.

Then, the voice called to him again.

This way…
it beckoned.
This way…

Somehow, he knew exactly which direction to go. Not for a moment did Mendeln hesitate. He had finally gone beyond fear of his situation. Fascination commanded him now.

Making certain that no one observed him, he slipped into the jungle. Curiously, Mendeln felt more at home here than he ever had back in Seram. It was as if this was a cherished place that Uldyssian’s brother had forgotten until now.

Treading with a nimbleness generally absent, Mendeln dove deeper into the jungle. The voice kept urging him on, telling him where to turn. He followed its guidance with the utmost trust.

The insects kept their distance from him, just as they had since shortly after he and his companions had entered the lush land. They had quickly sensed the change in him, the
otherness,
that Mendeln was only just beginning to understand.

Despite the dark, he found it not at all difficult to see. Things were shadowed, true, but his vision was sharper than ever. Indeed, in some ways, Mendeln could see better than he did even during the day. His surroundings had more definition, more distinction.

Turn…turn…
the voice commanded. Mendeln obeyed, took several steps, then waited.

But the voice gave him no more instructions.

Frowning, he took one more step—

And suddenly, in front of him stood a towering, glittering obelisk untouched by the incessant growth. It stood more than twice as tall as Mendeln and was made of what he suspected was obsidian. Mendeln had admired samples of the black stone that Cyrus had bought from a merchant and felt that what stood before him could be nothing else.

Yet, what drew his attention most was not the pointed obelisk itself, but what was carved on each of its faces.

More words in the ancient script.

They ran from the top to the bottom and as he eyed them, it almost seemed that they glowed faintly. Mendeln mouthed them as best he could, recognizing enough symbols to have some crude notion of what others might mean.

As he read, his understanding grew. Becoming excited, he poured over the first face again and again. Each time, the message proved clearer. His expression transformed into that akin to a child, for what was written there filled him with awe.

And so, Mendeln kept reading…

Uldyssian stared in disbelief at the man before him. Romus, the criminal. Romus, the converted.

“What—what’re you doing here?” Uldyssian demanded. His gaze flickered to the few faces partially visible around them. He recognized most. They were
all
from Partha.

“When you were found missing, Holy One, we feared for the worst, especially after how it was for poor Master Ethon and his boy! Nicodemus, he’s a good tracker and some of the others’re, too! We took off as soon as we could after you!” Romus grinned. “But you’re all right!”

“You shouldn’t have followed,” Uldyssian reprimanded the men. “You endanger yourselves…and what of your families?”

“All of us came willingly,” someone else said. “And our families are all with us, of course! We’d not abandon them! Isn’t that right?”

There was a chorus of ayes. For the first time, Uldyssian noticed that some of the figures toward the back of the dark throng were of slighter builds. Several were fairly short. He had not thought of them as women or, for that matter, children.

But
why
bring their families with them on such a desperate pursuit?

A sick feeling swelled up within him.
“Why
are you all here, Romus?”

“Why, to learn more from you, Holy One! To follow your path, wherever it takes you!” Others backed up his declaration.

“Don’t
call
me that!” Uldyssian blurted. “Never that!”

Romus bowed his head. “Very sorry, Master Uldyssian! I’d forgotten, yes!”

Gritting his teeth, Uldyssian continued, “You uprooted your families to follow me? Are you mad?”

Almost as one, they shook their heads. He eyed the townsfolk, aware that his fury barely touched them. They were utterly insane, but could not see that fact.

But as it became apparent that he had nothing more to teach them, they would surely come to their senses…and then it would be
they
who would become outraged with him.

Mendeln still concerned Uldyssian, but he needed to deal with this band first. “How many are there of you, Romus?”

“A good quarter of Partha stands around you, Master Uldyssian, and others but await word of our success before they join us!”

The sick feeling swelled a hundredfold. Barely able to think, Uldyssian whirled back toward the camp. “Follow me.”

“Always,” murmured Romus.

Already regretting his choice of words, the son of Diomedes stalked away. Behind him came a mass shuffling of feet and the shaking of grass and branches.

As he neared the edge of the camp, Achilios—an arrow notched and ready to fire—stood sternly waiting. His face went through a contortion of emotions as he drank in what came in his friend’s wake.

“What’ve you found out there? An army?”

“The Parthans…or, at least, a good number of them.”

Achilios looked from one newcomer to the next. “Is there anyone
left
there?”

“Too few.” Uldyssian looked around. “Where’s Mendeln?”

“I assumed with you.”

“I noticed him rise at one point,” Serenthia piped up from near the fire. She, too, eyed the Parthans with wonder. “I fell asleep again almost immediately, though.”

It was not what Uldyssian had wanted to hear. “He’s been gone too long. I need to go back out and search for him.”

Leaning close, the archer whispered, “Then, why not use this bunch? I can only assume that they came after you and, from the looks of those admiring expressions, if you asked them to hunt for your brother, they would!”

“And half of them would get eaten while the others would likely die of accidents or some disease! They understand nothing about the jungle!”

“Nor do we, but we chose to come here, nonetheless.”

As the two argued, more and more people flowed into the tiny site. The women and children became apparent now, they moving closest to the single fire. Some of the men came bearing wood, which they used to build other fires for their numbers.

Numbers which continued to grow.

“You’re certain that it’s only a
part
of the town?” Achilios asked.

“For now…” Uldyssian spotted Bartha and her son. The woman smiled, then leaned down to point out him to her child. The boy waved merrily. Uldyssian could not help but wave back, but his heart grew heavier. Their faith was based on lies.

Romus joined him again. There was absolutely none of the distrust and unsavoriness of the man Uldyssian had first viewed from a distance in Partha’s square.

“Master Uldyssian, would it be permissible to have them start cooking meals and clearing more ground?”

“You have food?” He prayed that they did not somehow expect him to magically supply them with anything.

“Oh, yes! We knew that we might have to travel some distance to catch up to you! There are horses laden with packs just coming up now.”

Sure enough, in addition to the throng of people, more than a score of heavily encumbered mounts were already in sight. Uldyssian could scarcely believe what he was seeing. How could such a large party have organized so quickly, much less followed him so expertly?

And they all expect the world from you,
came the thought.
They all expect you to teach them to become more powerful than the mage clans…

The immensity of what he was supposed to do—especially in light of the fact that it was utterly beyond him—struck Uldyssian so hard that he turned from the others without another word and stalked off into the jungle. He did not go far, naturally, but just enough to find some peace.

Or at least, attempt to. Even alone, Uldyssian could not escape his feelings of failure, of complete shame. They ate away at him with an intensity he had not experienced previously. In his mind, he heard the voices speaking so reverently about him, saw again the awed faces, both young and old. Bartha’s son came unbidden to his memory, the boy and his mother seeing him as some mythic healer when the truth was that it had been a demoness who had given the child a new life.

Lylia. How she would have laughed at his situation. In fact, it was very likely that she watched from somewhere, enjoying his torment and the eventual chaos when the Parthans discovered the awful truth about him. Lylia had called him
nothing
and he was seeing the truth of her words more and more with each passing moment.

Perhaps the temptress had even silently urged the townsfolk to this foolish trek, whispering in their ears that they had to follow. That could explain their swift and certain path. How better to ensure the greatest depths to his downfall than to bring all the elements together herself? Once more, he had underestimated her retribution.

“You’ve got what you want!” Uldyssian shouted at the darkness. “Now leave me be!”

No one responded, of course. He had not expected it. She wanted him completely humiliated, perhaps even slain. If Uldyssian was torn apart by his enraged followers, Lylia would simply find herself a new puppet.

You thought that you would bring down the masters of Sanctuary. You thought that the Triune and the Cathedral of Light would fall, so that you could finally rid yourself of the demons of your past.

Uldyssian shuddered, thinking how he had even failed anew his lost loved ones. Their memories would be tainted by his debacle. When people recalled his family, it would be with curses and dark thoughts.

“I only wanted to help,” the son of Diomedes muttered. “Only wanted things to make sense.”

To his ever distraught mind, the calls of the jungle’s nocturnal denizens began to sound like mocking laughter. Uldyssian almost turned and headed back to camp, but then recalled what he would find there. He looked at his shadowed surroundings, seeking
some
escape.

There is always the Triune.
At first, the thought startled Uldyssian, but as he considered it, it made some sense. True, before it had been the suggestion of Malic, but now Uldyssian considered what would happen if he willingly walked into the main temple and gave himself over to them. There would be no more running. The Parthans would initially grow angry when they discovered his duplicity, but then they would feel justice had been served. Uldyssian did not care what happened to himself at that point, only that no one else would be affected anymore.

Perhaps it would even be best to lead the Parthans to the Temple, too. Let them see the truth there for themselves.

Uldyssian grimaced. It said something for his state of mind that he had thought of such an outrageous thing for even a moment. Uldyssian shook his head, trying to clear it. What he chose to do concerning himself was one thing, but he would not lead the Parthans through any more deceit…and he would certainly not lead them to the Temple.

Yet, if Uldyssian intended to cut all ties with those following him, it behooved him to do so as quickly as possible. However, once he returned to the camp, they would be with him waking and sleeping. It would almost be better, Uldyssian thought, if he just never returned at all.

Never returned at all…Perhaps this time, it would work.

His feet began moving even before his mind registered the action. Uldyssian shoved aside the thick branches, pushing as fast as he could through the jungle. On the one hand, he knew that his abrupt flight was even more insane than the one from Partha, but on the other, it would catch everyone unaware. They would have no idea where to look, where to go. He defied their best trackers—Achilios included—to keep on his heels in this thick vegetation.

But as Uldyssian tore his way through the night, he began to wonder how far he would get without a mount. A horse could at least barge through the jungle easier and surely there would be emptier trails ahead where a rider could quickly pick up the pace. If only he had thought of taking one with him.

But that was something well beyond hope now. Unable to do anything else and feeling as if all depended on him running and running until he could run no more, Uldyssian moved blindly through the jungle. Each moment, he expected shouts to arise and pursuit to begin…

A large form moved through the vegetation just ahead.

Uldyssian tried to slow, but the ground was soft and moist and his footing failed. He tumbled forward, landing on his face.

There was a heavy snort. A muzzle prodded his shoulder.