Deadhouse Landing

‘Your crimes against the integrity of the cult have been enumerated and suitable punishment has been writ. You have been found guilty of putting your own benefit and selfish desires ahead of the good of the faith of D’rek. Have you any last words before judgement is enacted?’

Strange, he noted, standing before them, blinking, how power-hungry people tend to charge their opponents with the very sins that apply to them. He opened his mouth to speak but found he had no breath for speech. The sun’s glare was making his eyes water – why else would wetness be cold on his cheeks? And the tightness in his chest choking off speech – appalled outrage, surely.

‘No? Nothing?’ Salleen prompted. ‘Not even an appeal to D’rek for forgiveness?’

This announcement stung Tayschrenn like nothing else in the entire charade of the trial, the cowardly sentencing, and now this farcical perversion of mercy. ‘Forgiveness?’ he shouted, hoarse, his voice near cracking. ‘You are the ones who will beg for forgiveness!’ But Salleen had signalled the drummers and now their blasting cacophony robbed him of any hope of being heard. None the less, the dark bulk next to Salleen that was Tallow seemed to stir at his words, perhaps uneasy, perhaps worried that he would lash out now, at the end.

But he would give them no such satisfaction.

He would meet D’rek with more dignity and courage than any they could ever muster – though it annoyed him how his eyes did sting and water in the glare and he could not wipe them.

So he turned his back upon them to await the end. The thunder of the drums shook the sands beneath his feet, vibrating the ground, calling the denizens below. And there in the dark caverns and tunnels he knew they stirred, rising, heeding the summons. Soon they would be upon him, seething, pricking, filling his mouth and nose until he choked …

He blinked savagely, weaving upon his feet, suddenly unsteady.

The heat, he decided. Must be this damned heat …

The hissing of the horde’s arrival assaulted him then. Louder, it seemed, even than the drums. All about him, closing. He blinked the tears from his eyes, fought the rabid urge to flee. No, he thought to himself … Wait!

A tickling wave of thousands surged across his feet like a surf. Countless probosces probed his flesh. A million feet climbed his ankles.

Wait … No! This is not … I want to …

A rising numbness in his feet and legs now made it difficult to stand. He fell to his knees, or thought he did. Was this tide of vermin rising upon him or was he sinking into it? He could no longer tell.

The numbness took his chest and for this he was thankful, as a writhing layer of creatures now blanketed his clamped mouth and closed eyes. But he could not seal his nostrils and they entered there – the tiny silverfish and the smallest of the flesh-eating maggots. Then his breath exploded from him in a convulsive gasp and they foamed into his opened mouth as he inhaled.

He gagged and gagged, rolling and vomiting even as he fought to inhale. But no breath could breach the sea of writhing creatures choking him. He screamed mutely in an abhorrence and revulsion beyond any his mind could grasp, and, thankfully, it gave up. Darkness descended …

*   *   *

Though the Civic Pit lay far across the city, Silla could still hear the muted distant roar of the gathered crowd. Even in this court overlooking the sea from a far side chapel of the temple, even here she could not escape it.

As if she ever would for the rest of her life.

She wrung her cold hands together, pacing. Why was the fool still here! Wasn’t enough enough? Must he go to the end to prove his point?

That thought froze her in her pacing.

Of course he would. He was right. He knew he was right. And he would go to the end to prove it.

But Tallow had promised her it would never come to this. That he would send him away to a new life on the mainland.

The Invigilator! She grasped the stone lip of the ledge overlooking the sea. Damn the man! Nothing but lies!

She stilled, watching the dizzying glimmer of the waves far below. But that wasn’t true. He hadn’t lied. He’d showed her concocted evidence and testimony that he could’ve used to condemn Tayschrenn to the death of the Fang that very day in court. Only her cooperation had saved his life. Only her testimony saved him from the poison that day.

Only today …

She jumped then as the reverberation of the drums struck her.

He’s still there? Why? Why won’t he flee?

She pressed her fists to her mouth. Damn him! Damn the stubborn fool! Would he really be that wilfully determined? To go to his death rather than yield to anyone?

She nodded then, a fist at her mouth, and sighed. Yes … Yes, he would.

The distant commingled awe and delight of thousands now swelled and she clutched at the ledge for support. Great D’rek! He’s being taken! Taken!