Fall of the Argosi by Sebastien de Castell

Author:Sebastien de Castell [Castell, Sebastien de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hot Key Books

24

The Scarlet Serpent

We had a three-mile head start on the slithering mass of plague-maddened nuns. That should’ve kept them hours behind us, but our passage was hampered by the treacherous terrain, while the army of the infected pursuing us flowed as smooth as a bloody river down the winding mountain path.

‘Steady, Quadlopo,’ I urged the terrified beast after one of his hoofs slipped on a patch of crumbling debris.

The ledge we traversed was barely wide enough for him to pass. I followed behind Rosie and Biter and Binta, leading Quadlopo as fast as I dared, awkwardly sweeping away as many loose rocks as I could with my feet. I reached back every few steps to stroke the horse’s muzzle, hoping my touch might offer him some reassurance as he plodded precariously forward. He kept snorting though, foaming at the mouth. His coat was soaked in sweat despite the cold.

‘The horses are scared,’ Binta turned to sign at me, then he came to walk by my side and added, more hesitatingly, ‘I am also scared.’

‘Me too,’ I replied.

This was my fault. The horses were only slowing us down. I never should’ve insisted we bring them up the mountain with us. But there hadn’t been anywhere safe to leave them in the desert, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Quadlopo. Instead I was risking his life with every step, and my paltry words of comfort were being drowned out by the hissing that grew ever louder as the hours passed and the light gave way to the creeping darkness.

How in hell had the nuns gotten infected after Binta and I had left them? Had the two of us triggered the Red Scream in them somehow? And if so, was that why they were pursuing us instead of killing each other off as the monks at the Monastery of the Silent Garden had done?

‘Why do they have to make that damned noise?’ I demanded. ‘Bad enough they want to rip us apart. What’s the point of terrifying us half to death first?’

I should’ve kept quiet. I wasn’t seeking any response. Enna used to say that part of arta loquit was learning to speak only when our utterances served a purpose. Durral – being someone who talked perpetually whether there was a reason to or not – countered that a little jabbering was good for the soul.

‘Be glad the infected still hiss at all,’ Rosie replied. Apparently her maetri hadn’t enlightened her of the virtues of asking inane questions for which you didn’t need an answer. ‘The Red Scream drives them to spread their madness, yet a flaw in the Scarlet Verses causes them to bite off their tongues soon after infection. That they still do so provides our only reassurance that the Traveller has not yet perfected her verses.’

‘Oh, thanks, Rosie,’ I said. ‘When you put it that way, I guess that bloodcurdling hiss is mighty reassuring after all.’

‘Indeed, that is the wiser interpretation.’

Whatever talents for arta loquit one found along the Path of Thorns and Roses, the ability to detect sarcasm wasn’t one of them.

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