Kell's Legend (26 page)

The two remaining cankers were gradually chewing the Stone Lion to death, cutting chunks from it,
attempting to get another premium hold for that final, terminal great bite. Even with half its head missing, the Stone Lion was putting up a good fight, pounding huge fists and claws into the cankers to accompanying shrieks of mis-meshed gears and the thump of compressing flesh. All the time, the wounded canker with no lungs and a broken spine paddled aimlessly in the dead leaves, making a strange mewling sound, not so much expelled air but the pathetic squeaking of a winding-down clock. Kell saw dark blood-oil pump out in a few savage spurts, and eventually the wounded canker was still.

“At least they fucking
die,
” murmured Kell, eyes narrow, wary, observing the final performance.

The Stone Lion accelerated backwards, hammering a tree and finally dislodging the clinging canker. It stamped down on the canker’s head, pushing it deep under the earth as the remainder of heavily muscled body flopped like a rag-doll, and it turned, searching out the final beast…which bounded to the attack, ducking low under a swipe and catching the Stone Lion in the throat with its fangs, ripping out a huge section of stone—and wood-flesh to reveal narrow tubes, like vines, within. The Stone Lion dropped to one knee, and slammed the canker with a fist, a blow that propelled it into a tree where it snapped a rear leg with a brittle loud crack that echoed through the woodland.

The Stone Lion settled slowly to the ground, forming almost a heap of what now appeared nothing more than an outcropping of stone and ancient wood. It seemed to give a huge sigh, and Kell watched the
great, ancient creature die on the woodland carpet. Despite its savagery, he felt almost sad.

The canker trapped under the earth by Stone Lion finally stopped struggling, with Kell’s axe poking from the rigid, corded muscles of its throat. Kell stood, walking numbly through the carnage, to place his boot on the carcass and tug free Ilanna.

He turned, staring at the final canker. It growled at him, a feral sound of hatred, and tried to stand. Instead, it fell back in pain and whimpering. Something metallic squeaked in a rhythmical manner.

Kell hefted his axe, and strode to the canker which glared. It lunged, and he dodged back, then planted his axe blade in its neck. He rocked the blade free and blood-oil spurted, along with several coils of wire. Kell hefted Ilanna again, dodged another swipe of canker claws, and with the second strike decapitated the beast.

Blood gushed for a while, then slowed to a trickle. Kell could see the gleam of parts inside the neck, but each cog and wheel was curiously formed, as if kinked, and each piston was bowed or bent, each gear buckled. Kell shook his head; he didn’t understand such things. Looking around, he grasped a handful of dead leaves and started cleaning the twin axe blades.

“Old horse! Why didn’t you wait for us? You’ve had all the fun!”

Kell glanced up, gradually, to see Saark leading his horse amidst the flesh and clockwork debris. The clearing—the creatures had smashed the trees into a clearing—appeared as a minor battlefield. Blood gleamed everywhere. The ground was littered with brass and steel clockwork mechanisms.

Kell said nothing.

“It’s fine,” Saark called back through the trees. “Kell’s heroically battled three cankers and the Stone Lion, and managed to kill them all!”

Saark stopped before Kell, who watched Nienna and Kat appear, faces shocked by the carnage. The horses were skittish, and they tied them to a tree by the edge of the battle and moved to Kell. Nienna hugged him, and he smiled then, but his eyes never left Saark.

“I injured the Stone Lion,” he said. “Then I ran. But there was no horse for me.” There was a dark gleam in Kell’s eye, a suggestion of violence in his stance, and Saark noticed Kell did not lower his axe.

“We left a horse for you, old boy,” said Saark, voice lowering, humour evaporating. “Didn’t we, girls?”

“We left your horse,” said Kat, smiling uncertainly, not understanding the tension in the air.

“We did, grandfather,” said Nienna, putting her hand on Kell’s torn bearskin. “I saw Saark tie the creature myself. He is not to blame if it escaped.”

Saark held his hands wide. “An accident, Kell. What, you think I’d leave you to die back there?”

Kell shrugged, and turned his back on the three, gazing off through the trees. His emotions raged, but he took a deep breath, calming himself.

Once,
said Ilanna, in his mind, in his soul,
you would have killed him for that.

I would have questioned him.

No. He would already be dead.

That was in the bad days! he stormed. When I was so drunk on the whisky I didn’t know what I was
doing. Those were evil days, Ilanna, and you used to fuel me, used to feed me, used to push me towards violence every step of the way, only so you could taste blood yourself, you depraved fucking whore!

Kell turned and faced Saark, and forced a smile. “I apologise,” he said, as their eyes locked. “I mistrust too easily. There is a thing called a Fool’s Knot—the slightest pressure, and it slips. But of course, you would never use such a thing on me.”

Saark grinned. “Of course not, Kell! In fact, I have only now just heard of such a knot, this very moment you mentioned it. Now. We are all exhausted, the girls are frightened, hungry, in a fiery agony of chafing from riding, and I fancy I saw evidence of civilisation only a few short leagues from this very spot.”

“What kind of evidence?”

“Traps. Trappers never stray too far from home. Come on, Kell! Think of it! Comfy beds, whisky, hot beef stew, and if we’re lucky,” he lowered his voice, leaning in close, “a couple of willing buxom wenches apiece!”

“Show me the way,” said Kell, and frowned. Saark confused him; he wanted to believe the man, but his intuition told him to plant his axe in Saark’s head the first chance that arose. “If it was just me and you, I’d say no. I have a feeling the albino army is moving south; chasing us, effectively. It will destroy every damn town and village it hits, raiding for supplies and destroying buildings in the army’s wake so their enemies can’t make use. I have seen this before.”

“But think of the girls,” said Saark, voice lower, playing to Kell’s weakness. “Think of Nienna.
Frightened half to death, chased by horrible creatures, forced to fight for her life; she told me she and Kat were captured by evil woodsmen, who proceeded to-”

“Tell me they didn’t!” Kell gripped his axe tight, eyes slamming over to Nienna.

“No, no, calm down, Kell. The girls have their integrity. But it was only a matter of time; that Stone Lion you so effectively slew…” Saark peered at the dead creature, frowning, “Gods, did you cut off half its head? Anyway, that Stone Lion rescued them. The woodsmen were attacked by a canker, and the Stone Lion killed the canker. Saved their lives, but damn near frightened them to death! They need time to relax, Kell. They need normality.”

“And you need an ale,” said Kell, staring hard at Saark.

“I admit, I am a man of simple pleasures.”

“Let’s move, then.”

Kell and Saark walked to where Nienna knelt, examining an intricate piece of machinery. “I don’t understand,” she said, looking up at the two men. “Are they just monsters? They have…this thing inside them. At school once the teacher took an old clock apart, and it looked like this, with wheels and cogs and spinning parts; only this looks…bigger, stronger, as if it would power a much larger clock.”

“It powered something more dangerous than a clock,” said Kell, rolling his neck with cracks of released tension.

I can tell you what it is,
said Ilanna.

Go on.

It is an Insanity Engine, invented by the forefathers of Leerdek-ka and Kradek-ka, then further refined by those engineers. We saw creatures powered by these machines under the Black Pike Mountains.

Kell’s face coloured, and he ground his teeth. Never mention that, he snarled. Understand? If you ever bring up Pike Halls again, I will cast you into the river! Do you understand me, bitch?

You are still ashamed, then?
Ilanna’s voice, so beautiful and musical, was little more than a whisper.

Aye. I am still ashamed. Now leave me be; I have two frightened girls to attend to.

They rode in silence through the remainder of the day until evening drew close, and finally emerged from the dense woodland of Stone Lion Woods. Saark scouted ahead, checking for signs of the Army of Iron; or indeed, cankers or any other creature that might take a fancy to the small travelling party.

Kell, Nienna and Kat stood by the edge of the woods, looking out over snowy fields and hills. Saark had been right: distant, a few lights shone, lanterns lit against the fast encroaching darkness.

“I’m sorry,” said Kell, at last, facing them.

“What for?” asked Kat, eyes wide.

“For leaving you, on the boat. It was foolish. I should have stayed with you. I should have known when I jumped that you’d be swept away and have to fend for yourselves. That was…foolish of me.”

“But Saark would have died,” said Kat.

Kell gave a little shrug. “And you two nearly died…and worse, according to Saark. Those woodsmen; I
knew them. They were savage creatures indeed, and if the canker hadn’t come you would still be there, singing a high sweet tune with skin hanging in strips from your backs and arses.” He saw their eyes, wide and pale, and coughed, taking a deep breath. “Sorry. Listen. You stay with me from now on. You understand?”

“Saark will look after us, as well,” said Kat, face round and innocent in the failing light. The moon had risen, a pale orb the colour of dead flesh, as the sun painted the low western horizon a dazzling violet.

“Be careful with Saark,” warned Kell.

“Don’t you trust him?” asked Nienna, surprised.

“I do not know the man,” said Kell, simply. “He joined us in the tannery; aye, I saved his life, but that was just me being…human. Instinct. I curse it!” He gave a bitter laugh. “They write poems about you for less, so it would seem.”

“He is totally trustworthy,” said Kat, nodding to herself, eyes distant. “I know it. In my heart.”

“In your heart, lass?” Kell smiled a knowing smile. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And you have, too. But I warn you; don’t trust Saark, and especially not like that. He has enjoyed a hundred women before you, and he’ll have a hundred women after.”

Kat flushed red. “I am waiting for the right man to marry! I am not…for sale, Kell. Saark can look all he wants, I know his ilk, and I know what I want in a man. Yes, Saark is handsome; never have I seen such hair on a man! And he has the gift of the silver tongue, in more ways than one, I’d wager…” Nienna giggled, “but I am proud of my virtue. I know a good
man is out there, waiting for me. I do not need your…fatherhood.” She narrowed her eyes. “I can look after myself.”

“As you wish,” said Kell curtly, returning his sweeping gaze to the snowy fields. “But know this. Saark is not a man of honour. He will come for your flesh.”

“A man of honour? And I suppose you are as well-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” snapped Nienna, glaring at Kat. “That’s my grandpa you’re speaking to. The hero of Kell’s Legend! Don’t you know your contemporary history? Your battle-lore? He saved the battle at Crake’s Wall, turned the tide of savages in the Southern Jungles!” Anger flushed her cheeks red. Her fists were clenched.

Kat looked sideways at Kell, who continued to stare across the fields. “It’s fine, Nienna,” he said, voice little more than a whisper. Then, to Kat, “You’re talking about back at the tannery, aren’t you lass?”

Kat nodded.

Kell continued, “Yes. I was brutal, brutal and merciless towards you, and I shocked you into movement, into action! If you’d lingered on your injuries, on your fear, you could have killed us all. I could not allow you, even as a friend of Nienna, to be responsible for her death. I would not allow it!” He turned, stared at his granddaughter with a mix of love, regret, and nostalgia. He smiled then. “I would cross the world for you, my little monkey. I would fight an army for you. I would kill an entire city for you. Nobody will get close to you again, this I swear, by the blood-oil of Ilanna.”

Nienna moved forward, took his hand, snuggled in close to him. “You don’t have to do all that,
grandfather.” Her voice was small, a child again, nestling against the only father figure she had ever known.

“But I would,” he growled. “No canker will get close. I’ll cut out the bastard’s throat.”

“Saark’s coming.”

They watched him approach, walking his horse with care over snowy undulations. He was smiling, which was a good sign; at least the Army of Iron hadn’t rolled through destroying everything in its path. For a long, hopeful moment Kell prayed he was mistaken, prayed to any gods that would listen that he was wrong; but a sourness overtook his soul, and he fell into a bitter brooding.

“There’s an inn, with rooms. I’ve booked us three.” He glanced at Kell. “Wouldn’t like to put up with your snoring again, old horse. No offence meant.”

“None taken; I am equally horrified by the stench of your feet.”

“My feet! I am aghast with horror! Oh the ignominy! And to think, we risked mutilation and death to come back for you with a horse. Old boy, we should have left you to eat fried canker steaks for the next week; maybe then you would have learnt manners.”

Kell pushed past Saark, leading his own horse. “That’s an impossibility, lad. A man like me…well, I’m too honest. A farmer. A peasant. Manners are the reserve of gentry; those with money, those born with silver on their tongue…” Saark smiled, inclining his head to the compliment, “…and equally those with a brush up their arse, shit in their brains, a decadent stench of bad perfume on their crotch, and a sister
who’s really their cousin, their mother and their daughter all rolled into one. Inbreeding?” He growled a laugh. “I blame it on the parents.”

He stalked off, down the hill, and Saark turned to the young women. “Who rattled his chain and collar?”

“He rattled it himself,” said Nienna, stepping forward, touching Saark’s arm. “Don’t be too offended; back in Jalder, he made few friends.”