The Crippled God

them.’
    Skorgen Kaban clumped over. ‘Captain! Are we dead? Is this Mael’s Curse? Do we travel the Seas of Death? Is this the Lifeless River? Skull Ocean? Are we betwixt the Horns of Dire and Lost? In the Throes of—’
    ‘Gods below! Is there no end to these euphemisms for being dead?’
    ‘Aye, and the Euphemeral Deeps, too! The crew’s got questions, y’see—’
    ‘Tell them our luck holds, Skorgen, and those hasty ones in the boats, well, that’s what comes of not believing in your captain and first mate. Got that?’
    ‘Oh, they’ll like that one, Captain, since a moment ago they was cursing themselves for being too slow off the mark.’
    ‘The very opposite to be sure, First Mate. Off you go, then.’
    ‘Aye, Captain.’
    Shurq Elalle faced the princess again. ‘To my cabin if you please, Highness. The bargain.’
    ‘The bargain? Oh, indeed. That. As you wish, but first, well, I need to change, lest I catch a chill.’
    ‘May the Errant look away, Highness.’
    ‘He is, dear, he is.’
    Shurq watched the young woman walk to the hatch. ‘ Dear’? Well, maybe she’s older than she looks .
    No, what she is is a condescending, pampered princess. Oh, if only Ublala was on board, he’d set her right in no time . The thought forced out a snort of amusement. ‘Careful!’ she admonished herself, and then frowned. Oh, I see. I’m freezing solid. No leakage for the next little while, I guess. Best get moving. And keep moving . She looked round, if somewhat stiffly.
    Yes, the ship was on the move, riding a current already lumpy with ice. The fog embraced them, their very own private cloud. We travel blind .
    ‘Captain! Crew wants t’know, is this the White Road?’
    ‘Provisions.’
    Destriant Kalyth looked across at the Shield Anvil. ‘There are drones. And wagon beds where food grows. Matron Gunth Mach prepares us. We shall wander as the great herds once wandered.’
    The red-bearded man rose on the Ve’Gath’s stirrups of hide and bone. ‘Great herds? Where?’
    ‘Well, they all died.’
    Stormy scowled. ‘Died how?’
    ‘Mostly, we killed them, Shield Anvil. The Elan were more than just keepers of myrid and rodara. We also hunted. We fought over possession of wild herds and crossings, and when we lost, why, we’d poison the beasts to spite our enemies. Or destroy the crossings, so that animals drowned on their migrations. We were one with the land.’
    From her other side, Gesler snorted. ‘Who’s been opening your eyes, Kalyth?’
    She shrugged. ‘Our spirit gods starved. What did we do wrong? Nothing, we didn’t change a thing. We lived as we’d always lived. And it was murderous. The wild beasts vanished. The land dried up. We fought each other, and then came the Adjudicators. Out from the east.’
    ‘Who were they?’
    Bitterness stung her words. ‘Our judgement, Shield Anvil. They looked upon our deeds. They followed the course of our lives, our endless stupidities. And they decided that our reign of abuse must end.’ She shot the man a look. ‘I should have died with my kin. Instead, I ran away. I left them all to die. Even my own children.’
    ‘A terrible thing,’ muttered Stormy, ‘but the crime was with those Adjudicators. Your people would have had to change their ways sooner or later. No, the blood is on their hands.’
    ‘Tell us more about them,’ Gesler said.
    She was riding a Ve’Gath, as were her companions. The thump of the huge Che’Malle’s clawed feet seemed far below her. She could barely feel their impacts on the hard ground. The sky was dull, cloudy over a grey landscape. Behind them the two children, Sinn and Grub, shared another Ve’Gath. They hardly ever spoke; in fact, Kalyth could not recall ever hearing Sinn’s voice, though Grub had let on that her apparent muteness was habit rather than an affliction.
    Creatures of fire. Demonspawn. Gesler and Stormy know them, but even they are not easy in their company. No, I do not like our two children .
    Kalyth took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘The Adjudicators had risen to power first in Kolanse,’ she said after a time. She didn’t want to remember them, didn’t want to think about any of that, but she forced herself to continue. ‘When we first heard of them, in our camps, the stories came from caravan guards and traders. They spoke nervously, with fear in their eyes. “Not human,” they said. They were priests. Their cult was founded on the Spire, which is a promontory in the