The Lesser of Evils by Traynor Andrew

Author:Traynor, Andrew
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen: Open Wounds

A explosion ricochetted around the dead, silent square. Zokou almost screamed, but clamped her jaws together and span around. Yaxi, her arrow still poised, had kicked the barn door open. Zokou watched the taut figure stand frozen for a moment, surveying the void inside. Then it shuffled forward, just a few steps. Probably Zokou was meant to wait outside. If she had to contain the tension within her any longer, though, it would wrench her apart. She followed Yaxi.

The barn was a charnel house. It had once been some sort of blacksmiths, seemingly. Now it was a mortuary. The flickering remnants in a great fireplace and a small lantern in the ceiling provided the only illumination. They showed enough, however; they showed too much. There were bodies everywhere. There were parts of bodies too. A severed ear lay right by the door. Close to it was a whole arm still strapped to the shield, a luridly effective demonstration of the limits of that protection. There were sludged rivers of dark liquid trickling inexorably across the flagstones and there were pieces of brutally extracted organs. There was the stench of blood and mayhem and death. And there was the centrepiece, the sight which froze both intruders. Lying in the middle of the room, propped against an overturned barrel with one arm outstretched. A corpse king at the epicentre of his macabre realm. Radav.

He was clearly dead. Zokou could see no movement whatsoever. His head was slumped down on his chest. His chainmail had been wrenched open and a long, deep wound ran across his stomach. Blood gushed from it; Zokou thought she could see the sausage shapes of entrails too. Another wound scythed across his out-flung arm. His hands hung empty, his sword had vanished, his holsters were barren of daggers. It was the first time Zokou had seen Radav with no weapons at all and that, above all else, was why she was sure he was dead.

Yaxi's bow clattered from her hands. She began to walk forward. Zokou looked at her profile, her stretched and unearthly face. Still unable to grant charity, she decided she was only seeing guilt face its consequences. Only later did she acknowledge the vision of a woman whose world had ended. And then, before they could even pray, her life started again. It began with the head of the corpse rising slowly and a weak voice drawling,

“You're late.”

“You stupid... fuck,” Yaxi breathed in a desperate voice. She sprang forward, fell to her knees and kissed Radav fiercely on the lips. The contact only lasted a few seconds but seemed to give her the strength she needed. When she broke away, it was to study her husband's injuries professionally. “Be back in a sec,” she said and darted out of the barn. She did indeed take barely more than a second before she was sprinting back, her herb bag and their whole supply of bandages flapping behind her. “What the hell have you

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