The Curse (The War of the Gods Book 2) by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

Author:Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla [Wunderlich Padilla, Pablo Andrés]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla
Published: 2018-03-01T22:00:00+00:00

***

The weeks went by and the band of incompetents became enthusiastic about their attacks on the north-southeast road. As they accumulated treasure, the change in Médmerén became more palpable; his face was taking on the expression of a malevolent snake. He was not the only one to become drunk with their continuing success on the roads.

Ofesto insulted everything that moved. Godforsaken, in the clutch of a panic which tormented him during the night, spoke less. Nárgana gave herself over to unhinged orgies. Garamashi went on wearing the corset and the dress, sometimes layering her neck with pearl and gold necklaces so as to look like a princess.

Meanwhile Innominatus stayed serene, quiet, doubting the suitability of belonging to such a miserable band. Being Mérdmerén’s right hand brought certain advantages, such as delicious food and the love of some women who sold themselves for a few crowns which the great leader Mérdmerén gave them.

Soon their fame spread from band to band. All the same, in spite of the fortune Innominatus had brought them, those incompetent rogues hated him more every day. The fact that this “innocent” never claimed any of the loot irritated them; they did not understand. Several of them had talked of murdering him during the night. They betted on who would sell his golden native hide for the best price.

The months went by. Innominatus remained silent. He understood rather more of the language of the empire, but he thought it would be better not to start talking among these men. His refined senses would let him know the right moment.

One leaden day, when Mérdmerén and his associates were drinking at a low-life tavern, there came a rumor that the peddler called Bárfalas and his daughter Yergal had been killed in a robbery. The Deserter cursed under his breath, since he himself had cursed them, and perhaps that curse had been fulfilled.

“Listen to me, you vermin!” Mérdmerén cried, breaking the cloud of silence and mourning that darkened the atmosphere. “You’ve heard the terrible news, that they’ve got Oldbeard and his daughter. They’re sending us a message. Our rivals want to get us out of the way. But this is just a sign that our business is going very well.

“Anyway, we need to respond to these threats, because anyone who sheds blood needs to pay with the same amount of blood. If we don’t respond with proper force, they’ll know that Mérdmerén and his men are soft and then they’ll attack us again. No, gentlemen, this has to be settled this very day. To arms, my lords! Let’s go after those bastards!”

“It’s not a good idea ...” Godforsaken said. “I’m just saying that ... this doesn’t smell right. All those jewels and precious ornaments will lead us to perdition forever... Just saying ...”

Mérdmerén turned such a glare on him that the cripple shut up at once.

“Anybody else got any opinion on the subject?” he challenged them.

Innominatus could have said something, but he felt that this ill-fated group was already heading for misfortune.

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