Bragi was back but he had changed. He was the nostalgically recalled hard case but there was more to him now. Inger thought it might be a new maturity.
She said, “You’re right, Josiah. Let’s just ride the lightning and see where it takes us.” Bragi’s behavior suggested that would not be the hell she might have expected.
He was not a Greyfells.
Though the day was advancing and it should have been getting warmer, a scatter of snowflakes fell during the transit to the castle. The flakes melted instantly but did proclaim the imminence of winter.
Inger realized that the trees had shed most of their leaves. When did that happen? She had been too preoccupied to notice. That was sad. Autumn was her favorite season. She loved to see the colors.
“Josiah, the leaves are gone.”
“Uhm?”
“We’ve been missing the good things.”
Gales grunted agreement despite having no real idea what she was thinking. He was good that way. Nathan and Babeltausque contributed supporting nods despite being even farther in the dark.
…
After sixteen days in hiding, while rumors of his death abounded- though no body ever surfaced-Megelin made a run for safety, into the desert north of Al Rhemish. He was accompanied by Misr and Mizr, an ancient chamberlain called abd-Arliki, and a grizzled, one-eyed rogue called Hawk in his presence and Boneman behind his back. Boneman was a villain of no special stature. He was involved with Megelin’s court through the twins, who had used him to protect their area of corruption. He was dangerous but was known amongst the low mainly because he often bragged that he was evil.
That declaration did not come from the heart. He did it to intimidate. But for the uprising Megelin would never have crossed paths with Boneman. In the most dangerous hours of the riot, as the good people let themselves vent ancient frustrations, those whose lives might be forfeit had to support one another. The twins brought Boneman in because he was strong, desperate himself, and lacked a conscience. He agreed not just because of the generous pay but because he knew hard men might use the chaos to mask writing a bloody final sentence to Boneman’s tale. Boneman spirited his charges away with considerable finesse. “It’s what I do,” he bragged, not pleased about having to do it with feeble old men, a weakling king, and a score of donkeys with a mass of cargo. Megelin wondered why the twins insisted that so many animals were needed.
The party headed north, the direction pursuers were least likely to look. Megelin did not initially realize that they were following the track that his father had taken when fleeing Al Rhemish at an even younger age. Unlike his father, Megelin did not have a horde of enraged Invincibles behind him. There was no pursuit at all. All Al Rhemish thought he had been killed. Even Old Meddler thought him lost and was distressed. Megelin bin Haroun was a feeble tool, blunt, bent, and cracked, but had been, even so, the best blade left in a dwindling set.
All went well for several days. Panic faded. Fear drew back. The pace slackened. The band moved on more through inertia than from a need to escape.
Then the dread returned tenfold, with the king badly shaken. Mizr demanded, “What is the matter, Majesty?” He and his brother were so worn down that neither attended much beyond their own exhaustion. Abd-Arliki was worse. He was fading. Only Boneman remained strong enough to help him. Boneman did not want to bother. He eyed the old chamberlain like he was contemplating getting rid of the burden.
Megelin gasped, “I know where we are! From my father’s stories about when he was fleeing from the Scourge of God. A little farther on we’ll find a ruined Imperial watchtower that’s haunted by a hungry ghost,” using ghost to mean a ghoul or devil. “My father was trapped there for a while. He wasn’t ever sure how he got away.”
Never saying so, he admitted that he was not the man his father had been. “We’re probably dangerously close already. If we camp around here the ghost will come get us.”
He thought that was how it had worked. It had been fifteen years since he had heard the story and he had not paid close attention at the time.
“No matter,” Mizr said. “We have treasure. No one is after us. We don’t have to stick to this obscure road.”
“Treasure?” Megelin asked.
“Misr and I brought the household funds. We will live well wherever we settle. I suggest we turn west.”
Misr agreed. “Going west will give us a better chance to find help for abd-Arliki.”
Megelin looked north. There was nothing there to draw him, really. He thought he could feel the demon waiting, insane with mystical hunger. “West we go. Tomorrow. Or now, even. I want to get farther from the hungry ghost.”
Why had the twins not mentioned the household treasury before? Because they wanted it all for themselves? Obviously, but now they understood that they could not get out of this on their own.
The real truth was, Mizr mentioned the money only because he was too tired to remain cautious.
No ghoul came that night but death was not a stranger.
Though Megelin was not surprised he did see something odd about abd-Arliki’s eyes. They had the buggy look of a hanged man.
Even Misr and Mizr betrayed guilty relief because the old man no longer hindered them. Megelin was not sure why they had brought abdArliki in the first place, but neither did he care. He was busy being exasperated with Boneman, who refused to move on until he interred the old man in a substantial freestone cairn.
“Hey, show the dead some respect…Majesty. The courtesy don’t cost nothing. You’d appreciate it if it was you. They’s plenty a things out there that’d gnaw on you.”
Misr and Mizr helped impatiently. Boneman thanked them graciously, then gave his sullen, nonparticipating monarch a black look. “Nobody can’t say I disrespect the dead.”
Later, the survivors hit an old east-west trace. Following that, they found some shepherds beside a small oasis. Those people had no news from Al Rhemish-nor did they care. They were not sure who ruled there.
Megelin got his feelings bruised. He was not a hunted fugitive. No one cared enough to bother. He asked the twins, “Did we mess up by running? Should we have stayed?”
“We did the right thing,” Mizr insisted. “Otherwise, we would’ve beaten abd-Arliki into the darkness. They were coming. It is possible that we ran too far, though.”
Misr added, “We should have stayed close by and just gone back after everybody finally calmed down.”
His twin nodded. “Indeed. Panic is never good. I think that it may not yet be too late. We should go back. What say you, Hawk?”
…
Megelin felt like a crushing weight lay on his chest. He surged into panicked wakefulness-and found that there was a weight atop him. It was a large, flat rock half as heavy as he was. Other rocks surrounded him. He could get no leverage to get out.
A grinning, one-eyed face appeared above, Boneman straining under the weight of another large rock. “Good morning, Majesty.” The villain settled his burden onto Megelin’s groin. “Looks like it’s going to be a wonderful day.”
Megelin did not quite grasp his situation. “Please. What? Why?”
“You know I insist on honoring the dead. They deserve all the respect we can give them.” He vanished from view. Megelin fought the rocks, without success. His limbs were pinned, too.
From somewhere close by Boneman growled, “Will you lay still?” A squishy crunch followed.
The one-eyed man appeared with another rock. This one was wet and red and had bits of hair and flesh stuck to it. The red was so fresh it had not yet drawn flies.
Something bit Megelin on his inside left ankle.
“That Misr just didn’t want to get along. I’m tempted to disrespect him.”
Megelin tried to ask what was happening and why. Panic took over. He shrieked commands.