To Emuel’s right, Piotr smashed a wooden tower to splinters with a swing of its tail, the orc that had been guarding it flying into the air like a rag doll, only to be snatched up in the dragon’s jaws before it could hit the ground; even over the cry of the enemy and the clash of weapons, Emuel could hear the crunching of bones.
The greenskins had been pretty well routed by now, although a motley group of them remained: encircling the dragons, wielding spears, occasionally shuffling forwards with threatening gestures. Its meal now done with, Piotr made to charge the line, but a bark from Calabash put paid to that, and the dragon came meekly to its companion’s side.
Emuel slid to the ground as Calabash settled back on its haunches, hurrying away as he realised what was about to happen. He quickly scanned the area for a weapon, and spotted a curved shard of bone, inscribed with a strange script and with a rough wrap of leather for a handle. It felt wrong in his hand somehow, but it would have to do for now. He found himself to be unafraid as he faced the orcs. They weren’t so evil-looking really, not in comparison with the Chadassa. He’d faced worse odds before.
As Piotr and Calabash took deep breaths, Emuel raised his weapon and screamed defiance.
Despite everything — Scaroth considered — it had actually gone quite well. He had been as surprised as the rest of them when they had downed the first big lizard so quickly. And now they had the final two monsters encircled, even with the casualties they had suffered, he felt a renewed pride in his men.
Oh, but they would eat well tonight. And then they would give much thanks to Big Blue God for his gift of good hunting. Yes, today was a good day. Today was a day the shamans would commemorate with their songs and rituals.
He was about to give the order to close in on the big lizards when they both breathed in deeply. Scaroth knew what was about to happen, but he had his great uncle’s enchanted hide shield in his right hand and he believed fervently in its magical protection.
“Men… attack!”
Scaroth’s warriors roared as they charged. The air around the orcs rippled as noxious fumes began to roll from the dragons’ mouths, and then there was intense heat and light and Scaroth’s soldiers fell to ash. His shield held, initially, but as Scaroth raised it above his head and cried out, it fell apart. He swallowed and looked up at the black dragon that towered over him. He would not let himself be afraid. He understood that he deserved this fate. He had brought death to his people, and for that he was ready to pay the price. But it was not in the nature of an orc to go out without one final act of defiance.
“I am Scaroth!” he shouted, raising his bone staff and stamping his right foot hard against the ground. “You have killed my people; you have taken everything away from me. Now I-”
But Scaroth didn’t get to finish his sentence, for Calabash breathed out and scattered the orc king to the wind.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Silus shook as another dry heave gripped him and a string of saliva slowly dripped to the floor. He wasn’t sure whether it was the after-effects of the incense used in his communion with Kerberos, or the stress of what he was about to say to Illiun and the settlers that had made him so sick. Katya knelt beside him, rubbing his back and making soothing sounds. He didn’t feel at all deserving of her sympathy.
Eventually the nausea subsided and he got unsteadily to his feet.
“Okay now?” Katya said.
“I think so, thanks.”
Silus had told Bestion to gather everybody together, and he found them in the vast, harshly-lit hall of the ship’s council chamber. Someone had set up a podium for him in front of the ascending tiers of seats. He raised his hand against the glare of the lights as he took to the stand. Silus had hoped for the occasion to be somewhat less formal. As it was, he felt like a preacher, about to deliver a sermon heavy with blood and thunder.
It broke his heart to see the expressions of hope and trust written on the settler’s faces, but Silus knew that he had no choice but to follow Kerberos’s plan; if not to save Twilight itself, then to save his wife and child from oblivion. This was why he was going to have to spin his lie.
“Kerberos — the entity — has spoken to me,” he began, “and I am to deliver His message to you.
“Although I know, Illiun, that you and your people fear my god, He is not without compassion. Kerberos has spoken to me of your origins, your flight across the universe and the deprivations that you have suffered. It is true that your ideology differs from that of our god’s. It is true that you have committed what the Swords would deem blasphemies. Now, however, you need run no more.
“Kerberos has agreed that you may finally settle upon this world.” There was a collective sigh of relief at this. “But not in this place. I have been tasked with leading you to a new land where you will be allowed to make your new home, in the understanding that you will not leave the territory given over to you.” There were rumblings of dissent and Silus waited for them to die down before he continued. “Should you do so, the punishment will be severe.”
The wave of anger that greeted this statement was so sudden and vehement that Silus staggered back, almost tripping over the edge of the platform. The settlers were all shouting at once and he noticed the Swords growing restless, clearly wanting to silence the outrage with their blades.
“You will listen!” Silus shouted, and eventually the tirade of abuse died down to discordant grumblings.
“Thank you. Kerberos has spoken, I am merely His mouthpiece. It is I who argued your case; I who appealed to my god for compassion. If I had not intervened on your behalf, you would have been annihilated in the blink of an eye.” Yet, still he would lead them to their deaths. “I have done my best for you, but this is not your world. You are not part of His plan. But, through my communion with the god, I have enabled the deity to see a solution which does not involve your slaughter.”
By the look on Ignacio’s face, it was clear that he would have considered the slaughter of Illiun and his people a better solution.
“Illiun,” Silus said. “You must realise that this is the best option for you. When Kerberos appeared in the sky you feared instant death, but now you have been given the hope of a new life, free from the fears of old, all your debts to Kerberos paid. Please, you have to understand that this is difficult for me too.” And it was, it truly was. But if Illiun and his people were not brought to their deaths, then the entire population of Twilight, no matter where they be, would be plunged into nothingness. Silus just couldn’t have that on his conscience.
“And what of us?” Ignacio spoke up. “What happens to the rest of us after you have led these heretics to the promised land? Where are we to settle? We certainly can’t live with these blasphemers.”
“Kerberos has assured me that He will take us all home.”
“Where you will answer to Katherine Makennon for your crimes!” said Susannah, rising to her feet and raising her fist.
Silus saw Kelos roll his eyes and whisper something to Dunsany.
“I will be more than happy to answer to Makennon on our return.”
“How long will it take to reach this new home of ours?” Illiun said.
“I don’t know,” Silus admitted. “But I will follow the guidance of Kerberos and He will show me the way.”
“Do you always show such slavish devotion to your god?” Shalim said. “Has it ever occurred to you that He might not have your, or our, best interests at heart?”