The Crippled God

the beauty and wonder ahead, her arrival delivered naught but devastation. It was unconscionable. It was unbearable.
    See what comes, when every gift is a curse .
    A sudden pressure, far behind her, and she twisted her neck round, glared into her own wake of devastation.
    Eleint.
    So many!
    Rage gave voice to her cry, and that voice shattered the land for leagues on all sides. As its echoes rebounded, Korabas flinched at the damage she had unleashed. No! Where is my beauty? Why is it only for you? No!
    I will have this freedom! I will have it!
    To do – to do – to do something.
    Her wings strained with the fury of her flight, but she could fly no faster than she was already flying, and it was not enough. The Eleint drew ever closer, and Korabas could see that crushed knot flaring with an inner fire, blazing now with all the anger she had ever felt, had ever taken inside – bound for so long. Anger at the gods. At the makers – her makers – for what they did to her.
    Eleint! You would kill me and call it freedom? Then come to me and try!
    Her rage was waiting for them, waiting for them all.
    Mathok reined in, dust and stones scattering from his horse’s hoofs. As the cloud lifted around him he cursed, spat and then said, ‘They’re in the pass, High Fist. The bastards! How did they anticipate us?’
    ‘Calm down,’ Paran said, turning to glance back at the column. ‘We are in the manifestation of Akhrast Korvalain. The Assail can track our every move.’ He faced the Warleader again. ‘Mathok – are they well placed?’
    ‘Dug in, sir. And these ones, High Fist, are heavily armoured. Not local – the Assail have hired mercenaries.’
    Fist Rythe Bude, standing beside Paran – somewhat too close, as he could smell the spices in her hair – asked, ‘Could you see their standards, Warleader?’
    Mathok made a face. ‘Wolf furs, Fist. Wolf skulls too. I didn’t get close enough, but if they had the carcasses of wolf puppies hanging from their ear lobes it wouldn’t have surprised me.’
    Paran sighed. ‘Togg and Fanderay. Now that complicates things.’
    ‘Why should it complicate things?’ Noto Boil demanded, withdrawing the fish spine from his mouth and studying its red tip. ‘There’s nothing complicated about any of this, right, High Fist? I mean, we’re marching double-quick for who knows where but wherever it is it won’t be pretty, and once we get there we’re aiming to link forces with someone who might not even be there, to fight a war against an Elder race and their human slaves for no particular reason except that they’re damned ugly. Complicated? Nonsense. Now Seven Cities … that was complicated.’
    ‘Are you done, Boil?’
    ‘ Noto Boil, sir, if you please. And yes, I am. For now.’
    ‘What makes this complicated,’ Paran resumed, ‘is that I have no real interest in fighting worshippers sworn to the Wolves of Winter. In fact, I sympathize with their cause, and while I might disagree with the means by which they intend to express their particular faith—’ He turned to Rythe Bude. ‘Gods, listen to me. I’m starting to sound like Boil!’
    ‘ Noto Boil.’
    ‘The point is, we need to get through that pass. Mathok – any other routes through the south mountains?’
    ‘How the Hood should I know? I’ve never been here before!’
    ‘All right, never mind. Silly question.’
    ‘Let’s just pound right through ’em, High Fist. I figure just under five thousand—’
    Fist Rythe Bude choked, coughed and then said, ‘ Five thousand? Entrenched? Gods, this will be a bloodbath!’
    Noto Boil cleared his throat. ‘High Fist, a modest suggestion.’
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘You’re Master of the Deck of Dragons, sir. Talk to the Wolves of Winter.’
    Paran lifted a brow. ‘Talk to them? Tell you what – the next pit full of wolves you get thrown into, try a little negotiating, Noto.’
    ‘Noto Boil .’
    ‘You could swap bones.’ This from Gumble, where he was lying sprawled atop a flat rock. ‘Sniff their butts – they like that, I’m told. Lie on your back, maybe.’
    ‘Somebody find us a big snake,’ Mathok growled, glaring at the toad.
    Gumble sighed loudly, his bloated body deflating to half its normal size. ‘I sense my comments are not viewed as constructive, leading meto conclude that I am in the company of fools. What’s new about that, I wonder?’
    Paran withdrew his helm and wiped grimy sweat from his forehead. ‘So we do this the hard way. No,