Axler, James - Deathlands 10 by Axler James

Author:Axler, James
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Nineteen

"THE RAVEN OF DEATH!" shrieked one of the men at the back of the crowd, his voice ragged with stark terror.

There was pushing and jostling near the door, and at least half of the warriors of Markland fought their way outside. Even the baron took three steps back, half drawing his sword as though he feared that Mildred might physically attack him.

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Instantly, magically, guns appeared in the hands of Ryan and his party. The only person in the large hut who seemed unconcerned was Mildred Wyeth.

She looked calmly around at the fearful confusion, shaking her head slowly. "I've made some spectacular entrances in my time, but this has to be the best. What"

"Her skin" Jorund Thoraldson hissed, licking his lips nervously. "Her skin is as black as jet. She is the spirit of death, the widow-maker herself, and you have brought her among us!" He pointed accusingly at Ryan.

More and more of the leading men of the ville were sidling out of the hut, stumbling over one another in their eagerness to get away.

"Have none of you ever seen a person with black skin before?" Ryan shouted. "It's not a thing to be frightened of."

"Of course it is, outlander fool! I have lived through more than thirty summers and I've never seen anyone with black skin. Except for those who are bitten by the jungle snakes or those whose corpses rise swollen from the depths of the water." The baron was shaking with nerves.

"No. Have none of you ever left this ville and traveled through the Deathlands?"

Jorund shook his head. "No. Markland has always been here. It was here before the long winters and it is still here. It will always be here. No man leaves, and what happens beyond the water or beyond the hot forest is nothing to us."

"You must trade with other villes along the coast here," J.B. said.

"No. It would be unclean and would damn us. There is a ville, forty sea-miles off to the east. There have been fights over the years, and they get stronger as we grow more weak. One day" He suddenly recalled the origin of all this. "But the black witch must go. Nay, she must die."

"Be a lot of blood spilled if you try that," Krysty warned.

"We are many." He glanced around and saw that only a handful of his men remained behind. "Stay, you dogs! Come back!"

It was a delicate, balanced moment. Ryan knew they had overwhelming firepower on their side, but it would be a desperate gamble to try to take on an entire ville. It wasn't the initial firefight that was the problem. It was getting safe away afterward without being sniped off.

"Better not try it," Ryan said. "We got blasters that can take out a dozen of you just like that." He snapped his fingers loudly.

One by one, the blond warriors came sheepishly back into the meeting hut, most of them trying hard to avoid looking directly at Mildred Wyeth, who still stood among the friends, arms folded, a faint smile on her lips.

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