Kingdom of Monsters - Empire of Sand Series

Chapter 1.3

"Perhaps Twin Rivers is too far," he conceded. "After visiting the Blue Fins and the Green Feathers, you could return before midsummer, laden with their grateful offerings."

She set aside the empty stew bowl. "I saw black snow today."

"It must be from the days of cookfires. Bor-Alis blessed us on this peccari migration."

"This is the first day it has fallen."

He turned instinctively in the direction of the Serengai.

"The wind blows from the south, on King's River Road," she said. "It tastes of fire, though there is no smell."

"A festival down the road then. Deep Riverbend has shot a blade bear and is roasting it. We should have been invited." He tapped his walking stick on the ground. "When will you take up your grandmother-ka's duty?"

She did not answer, because she had already taken it up, and they both knew the truth.

Although the provinces of herbaline and elder were different, her elder had long disliked her small ability to use the true names of plants. He disliked her whole family for their power, even as he benefited from it to maximize the tribe's profits.

Lunsa stood. Asnul swung from her waist like a belt pouch. She lifted the bowl to the sky, thanked Bor-Alis again, and placed it upside down on the veranda to show it had been drunk dry with no wastefulness.

Her gesture ended their conversation.

The elder sighed. "Do you have the remedy for my daughter?"

Lunsa brought out the smooth, cured Devil's Foot spear.

His daughter knew her responsibilities to serve the family but had become unable to perform them. Her heart had started talking in its sleep. Its murmurs kept her awake through the night, and she was no longer able to wake early to prepare the family's morning offerings.

Lunsa handed him the spear. "Hang this above her pillow for three days. On the fourth day, steep it in a tea. She must drink it at dawn, after the night's devils have left, and then her heart will tell her its truth, and she must obey. If she doesn't obey its truth, her heart will never let her sleep again."

He tucked the spear into his robe, muttering. "Perhaps you should make this remedy for yourself."

She sealed her lips on her tart answer. He was her elder. She respected him. He knew the words of the gods.

Cries and shouts echoed from down King's River Road, interrupting their conversation. "They're coming! The village has come!"

Her elder hurried to the village center. "Who has come?"

Lunsa's fleetest cousins, slender girls, emerged from the gloaming. "It's Deep Riverbend. They've all come!"

Her elder positioned himself at the bulbous roots of the Hollow Tree. His knuckles stood on his staff in sharp relief. Lunsa's tribe spilled from their huts and gathered around the elder, the oldest widows making room for Lunsa nearer the elder in honor of her position. Farther stood the younger and infirm, infants clutched to breasts, youth prepared to bolt.

Behind Lunsa's cousins, the village of Deep Riverbend trudged up the mountain, their heads bowed and their feet obscured by dust. A heavily laden girl struggled to lead them. Tear-tracks marred her cheeks, black snow frosted her unmarried braids, and her hastily woven pack was streaked with mud.

Lunsa's elder stepped forward. "Health be with you, daughter of Deep Riverbend."

The girl nodded and bent over muddy knees for her breath.

"She said Ammen-Alet runs the roads," Lunsa's cousins cried. "The whole tribe's come, with their children and their babies and their elders who can walk and even those who can't. They're carrying everything. They're everyone!"

The elder lofted his staff, and the excited girls quieted.

The Deep Riverbend girl forced herself upright. "The King's army has come."

A babe started to wail.

"The Reaping's early," an aunt cried, gathering her boys to her. Soldiers regularly stole their sons for forced military service.

The girl shook her head hard. "They're killing." Her chest heaved. "They're killing everyone. They burned the village tree. My mother—she went to greet them. They cut her down without speaking."

"The King wants our land?" someone guessed.

The girl shook her head again. Grief spilled over her cheeks. "Death runs behind them. All the way to the fork, it's said. And they're led by such a general." She swallowed. "They're led by the demon."

A horrified gasp swept through her village.

Lunsa's gut lurched. Demian.

Her elder paled. "The King's Dog?"

"I don't know," the girl said. "I didn't see him. I was told he's a giant, and his skin is red, and he roars flames, and his hair is tangled with a thousand horns."

"He's come," came the whispered murmurs of Lunsa's kinsmen as they spit on the ground and scraped their words to hide them. "He's come; he's come for his vengeance."

The elder looked sharply at Lunsa.

A deep knell sounded in her chest. Acid fire burned in her throat. Her breath stopped.

He is come.

Asnul burrowed into her neck.

"We should have killed him as a child!" an aunt cried shrilly. "After what he done then—after all he killed!"

The girl hefted her pack. Exhaustion curled her shoulders. "Please allow us passage through your land."

Her elder grew to his full height. Demon aside, ancient formalities must be answered. "Where are you bound?"

"My sisters and I seek refuge with the Blue Fin tribe."

"Are your families connected?"

"My uncle-ka married there."

The elder's mouth flattened. "None living?"

"We are hopeful . . . We hope they will remember such connection and be merciful."

The elder remained silent.

The girl's face crumpled.

Few living relatives risked opening their homes to those the gods expelled; begging mercy of dead relations strained the limits of charity, especially since Deep Riverbend now lacked a village elder to demonstrate that their expelled tribe had made retribution for their offenses and no longer suffered the wrath of the gods. Most likely Deep Riverbend would be chased off and forced to walk the restless earth, harried by their misfortunes until they scattered and died.

She fought to control herself. "Hide yourselves quickly. We had a little warning from the survivors of the Heron Lake tribe, but we didn't know these soldiers' viciousness." She wiped her cheek, smearing the dirt. "We didn't know. Please, will you allow us passage?"

Her tribe pooled behind her, stopped by the elder's hesitation.

Her lips trembled. "Please!"

Lunsa's elder tapped his staff on the ground three times. "May our earth fly beneath your feet."

"Thank your strange kindness." The girl rejoined the desperate exodus of her village.

Lunsa's kin gathered around the elder, murmuring their fears. "We knew he would come. Now, who can stop him? Only the gods. Maybe not even them."

The elder stood tall beside the Hollow Tree, one hand on its blessed wood. "Gather your precious ones. Tonight, we pray our feet run swifter than the cursed demon's fury."