Страница 38 из 79
The old man experienced a facial spasm, and his lips pulled back from brown stubby teeth. With an enormous effort of will he controlled himself, and mumbled again to his woman. She repeated his words aloud, and Maibang translated. "I am not the leader of the Agaiambo, he says, for the leader has been dead for a week. We placed him in his ku, his exposure coffin, so that the rain and the sun might return his flesh to the earth, and speed his spirit on its way to Dudi, the village of the dead. But our enemy, who had brought death to him in the form of the dreaded biditaurabo-haza-"
Chester interrupted. "Pardon me. 1 don't mean to be rude, but I may need to know about that. What is this Bidi-Tar-whatever? I know that ‘Bidi' means ‘man'..."
Maibang relayed his request to the old woman, who gave a lengthy reply. "It is the man-ripe-making snake. If you meet its eyes you rot from within."
Chester nodded, murmuring, "Tropical twist on the Gorgon legend."
"Please," Maibang insisted, "this is important. In four days he died, badly swollen and already nearly putrefied. His body was
placed on the ku. Two days later, be was half rotted. The flesh hung loose on his bones-"
Next to Griffin, MeWbirter groaned. "Good Lord. Is this really necessary?" Acacia had her band over her mouth. She looked a little green herself.
"But then his eyelids opened, and in the empty wet sockets there burned a terrible flame, and the man who had led us came down from the ku, and with the strength of ten he decimated us. Not fire, nor spear, nor knife could slow him, and he killed all who came within his grasp. At last, desperate, we bound his limbs with snares, cut him in pieces, and threw the pieces into the swamp. Even that was not enough, for one of the arms came out of the swamp and tried to re-enter the village. One of the great lizards who haunt the water's edge caught the arm and devoured it."
McWbirter looked dyspeptic. Griffin hid his amusement.
"This is why we are so weak, he says. We have undergone many such assaults in past years, and each has taken its toll. We would not have survived even as long as we have; but this village is situated on ground holy to both your gods and ours. Years ago, missionaries came to teach us of God and Jesus. Not far from here they built a place of worship. Because we of this village helped supply materials and what labor we could, they blessed our land and our boats."
The old man had been mumbling to the woman as Maibang spoke, and she relayed more information to them. "But now," Maibang continued, "we fear that our protection is weakening. We know that strange things have been happening at the old Anglican mission, and that tonight a sacrifice will take place there, on the altar of your God. They will desecrate the holy place, and end our protection. We will be doomed. We are not strong enough to stop them. You are strong. You have powers. Your world is at stake as much as ours. It is in your hands."
It was slow in coming, but it was there: an almost tangible crackle of emotion in the air, a feeling of shared purpose that ran through the adventurers like an electric current. And strangely, unmistakably, Griffin's heart speeded up by a few beats, and he found himself thinking: this sounds like fun. Then he remembered who he was and why he was here, and pushed these thoughts aside.
"We can do it. Count on it," Chester said grimly. "Tell Maibang how to get there, if you can't supply us with a guide."
It was very dark now, but a full moon was rising, and it would soon be light enough.
The last few hundred meters the adventurers bad traversed as quietly as possible. Griffin watched Mary-em for his cues. The dwarf-woman was deadly serious, her balberd threaded and in band, tilted against danger from any direction. Alex was aware of the inadequacy of the dagger in his belt, and wished for one of the stolen guns. Fortunato seemed at home with his Smith & Wesson, and Dark Star had unslung her rifle and was carrying it at port arms as she traveled.
Whatever else he might think, these people were taking their Game seriously. The Griffin would too, if he wanted to survive long enough to find Rice's killer.
The progress of the line had ceased, and they were bunching up. Henderson came back down the line. "We're near the mission," he told them briskly. "I sent Oliver and Gina ahead to scout for us, and we can't move in until we know what we're up against. I'm sure they've got guards and fortifications, and probably a ghastly or two." He glanced significantly at Dark Star. "If my hunch is right, we'll have some action for our Thieves. You'll have to brief Fortunato and Griffin, honey. You're our only experienced Thief."
Oliver broke through the line, breathing shallowly. "It's up there, all right. And it's not empty. Looks as if there are about two dozen natives, and maybe one boss man. I don't see the sacrifice, but they're preparing for it, no question."
"Weapons?"
"I saw spears, mostly. Knives, a couple of bows, and two guns. No machine weapons."
"Good. Gina?"
"I took a read on the area, and there's plenty of magic, all right. At least two priests fifth-level or higher, and one vibration I don't like at all. I think that was one of the... Enemy, and if they're all as powerful as him, we're in trouble."
"Stow that. We can handle them. What does the lead man look like?"
The redhead pursed her lips thoughtfully, trying to remember. "Strange. Animalistic. Leather loin cloth, long fingernails and toenails, very dark. Looked like his hair had been shampooed with mud. Very strong aura, and even though I was shielded, he knew I was there."
Chester grunted. "Any link with the sacrifice?"
"Slight. She's in there, and she's plenty scared, I can tell you. Chester, we can't try a frontal assault, they'll kill her, and she's our only link to the Enemy."
"Got it. You're right, of course. Good work, hon. Did it tax your energy much?" The green field glowed around Gina, and Chester judged her aura with a practiced eye. "You'll do. When the assault begins, team with me."
"You talked me into it," she gri
Despite himself, Griffin felt a bubble of excitement percolating its way to the surface. "What's our mission?"
"Rescuing the fair maiden, of course."
Chapter Fifteen
THE RITE OF
HORRIFIC SPLENDOR
At the edge of the clearing, hidden behind a broad-leaved tree, crouched three Thieves. Two were novices, and their hands and foreheads were damp with expectation. One of these was blueeyed with shaggy black hair; he carried a pistol and dagger. He wore dark pants and shirt, and his face had been blackened with charcoal. His name was Fortunato.
He hawked and spit quietly, too near the boot of the second novice, a huge man who moved with disquieting ease, who squatted on his haunches with the relaxed endurance of an Outback Abo. His hair was red and cut short. His thickly callused hands were curled loosely around a twelve-inch poniard. He called himself the Griffin.
The third Thief held a subtle but powerful influence over the others. She was not what one would call pretty, except perhaps by the light of a lonely campfire. Her lips were too large; they gus-
tened momentarily as she wet them with the tip of a pink tongue. Her ears sprouted like semaphore flags from under her short dark hair. Now they were straining to catch any slightest sound. Only her eyes might honestly have been called beautiful. Within them was a swirl of tiny reflected lights, oilfires floating in a whirlpool. Her eyebrows arced together like markings on the face of a bird of prey. Her entire body was canted forward like a ru