The God Eaters

  The priest set Kieran on the bed, then stood up with his hands to his back. "Whew. That is one large young man. Now, you --" The priest stopped, staring at Ash in sudden recognition.

  Not knowing what else to do, Ash stared back, trying to show all the pleading he felt. He didn't say what he was thinking, for fear that he was misinterpreting the priest's look, but it was only a small doubt. Their descriptions had made it here ahead of them. The Watch must have spread the word to every tiny town and outpost as soon as the jailbreak occurred.

  "You stay here," the priest finished. "I'll get the medical kit. I have a medical kit." He rushed away.

  Sick with helplessness, Ash knelt beside the bed and took up Kieran's hand. Bowed his forehead to it. "It's going to be all right," he whispered. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see the girl peering curiously at Kieran's tattoos. She was probably about fourteen years old, round-faced, wearing a modest Eskaran dress of dark gray enlivened by a yellow sash. He wondered if he ought to take her hostage, in case the priest came back with a rifle. He couldn't bring himself to seriously consider it.

  "Kai'adiin," the girl breathed.

  Confused, Ash studied her face. "You said Kai. What was the other word?"

  "One word. Holy man." She glanced over her shoulder, then turned back with a conspiratorial smile. "You no tell priest. Okay? Here, look. Auanit." She reached as if to poke the big tattoo on Kieran's chest, but found herself blocked by Ash's hand.

  "Please don't touch him."

  "I no hurt. Not servant, eh? You all --" she made a strange flapping gesture. "Like mother. Good friend, eh?"

  Now it was Ash's turn to make sure the priest was out of earshot. "Ediya'haan," he said.

  The girl's eyes went round. "Oh!" She glanced between the prone Iavaian and the white boy clutching his hand. "Too bad. I hope maybe marry him. Have big huge babies. Joke! No be mad.

  Iavai'ai sheishu?"

  "No, I don't speak Iavaian. Sorry."

  "Okay. Hungry?"

  "Um. Sure, yeah. Thank you."

  She dashed away, leaving Ash to wonder if she was simpleminded, or if it was just the language barrier that made her sound that way. The thought was drowned by a wave of anxiety from Kieran. Ash bent to soothing him, brushing back the wisps that had escaped his braid, forcing down the nightmare. He was deep enough in this that he forgot to watch for the priest's return. It was a metallic click that got his attention.

  He turned to see the priest standing in the doorway, aiming a shotgun at him.

  Ash was too tired to be angry. The only emotion he could muster was sadness. "Don't do this,"

  he murmured.

  "I'm terribly sorry," the priest said. He looked tired as well, though it was probably how he looked all the time. Deep creases worn by sun and dry air made his face look older than he probably was; his bald head was sunburned. His eyes were as dark as a native's, and looked gentle despite the shotgun. "It's just that the notice said you two are violent, and I have my little Miyan to think about."

  "You think I'd hurt her? What did they say we did? No, it doesn't matter." Ash let his head sag, made no attempt to stop his eyes from spilling over. "I suppose if I make a wrong move you'll shoot me."

  "That seems to be the way it's done."

  "Then all I can do is beg." He looked up, facing the uncertainty and dawning guilt in the priest's heart. "Save him. He's got a high fever, he won't wake up, his collarbone's broken and I think the wound might be infected, he won't survive without proper care." His vision, already blurry, unfocused entirely, and he sagged against the edge of the bed. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I wish I could offer a trade, save him and you can take me out back and shoot me, but what good would that do you?"

  "Well, you see, my duty to the Church means I have to assist the Watch however I can. Granted, you don't seem dangerous, but that's not for me to judge, is it?"

  "You're the one with the shotgun."

  "I suppose you're armed? The notice said you were armed."

  Ash groaned. "Yes, look, I'm taking off my coat, both our guns are in my coat." He threw the jacket on the floor and shoved it away. "And money and everything, take it, just stop dithering and either help or fire!"

  The priest stood there a few seconds longer. Then, with a sigh, he put up the shotgun, scooped up Ash's jacket, and walked away. A moment later he came back carrying a wooden crate. The girl, Miyan, was right behind with a kettle and a bowl.

  "Thank you," Ash whispered.

  "Yes, well, I still haven't decided what to do with you. But I can't very well let this young man die, can I?" Rooting around in his crate, the priest produced a roll of gauze and a cork full of needles. "How did this happen? Was he shot?"

  "Yes. A rifle at close range. The bullet went through, but it broke some bones on the way, and it hit his lung a little. I don't think he's bleeding into his lungs anymore, though."

  "How long ago was this?"

  "Early this morning."

  "Well, if he were going to die from a punctured lung, he would have done it already. Why don't you have a seat? Stay out of my light."

  Ash stood, wobbled as dizziness overcame him. Looked at the chair the priest had indicated, and realized that he didn't dare be out of contact with Kieran. As if the only thing keeping Kieran alive was Ash's presence -- self-centered thought, that, but he couldn't shake it. So he moved around to the head of the bed and rested his hand on Kieran's brow.

  "What's this? You think I'm going to make him vanish if you don't keep an eye on me?"

  "He needs me," Ash said simply.

  He tried to watch as the priest undid the makeshift bandages. It was getting harder and harder to hold his head up, though. He rested it on the pillow beside Kieran's, just for a moment. Just to catch his breath.

  The next thing he knew, Miyan was tugging at him, chattering in his ear. Groggily raising his head, he saw that the crusted shreds of his and Kieran's shirts that he'd used for bandages were gone, replaced by clean white gauze. There were only a few flecks of blood spotting over the wound. Kieran looked cleaner, too, and his feet were bare. The girl was babbling something about eating.

  "I'm not -- I'm not hungry, I'm too tired -- thank you, stop pulling."

  "Up, up! Silly boy, you sleep on floor?"

  He managed to get upright, but resisted when she tried to move him away, even when he saw bread and cheese and water set out on the table she was shoving him towards. "He needs me, he'll have nightmares if I'm not there."

  "Eat!" she insisted.

  With a last glance to Kieran, he surrendered. His stomach demanded it. While he was wolfing down the food, the priest returned, holding a lantern and wearing a nightshirt.

  "When you're finished, son, let me show you where you'll be sleeping."

  "Thank you, no." Ash washed the last of the bread down with the last of the water, pushed himself up on the edge of the table. He nearly knocked it over.

  "I'm afraid I can't let you leave."

  "Huh?" Ash blinked at him. "Leave?" He staggered back to the bed and sat down beside Kieran.

  Miyan bustled around picking up the dishes, then pushed them at the priest, chattering. They had a little exchange in Iavaian. The priest cleared his throat. "You do realize," he said stiffly, "that what you boys do is a sin against God."

  Of course he shouldn't have blurted ediya'haan at the girl, she was just a child, and had no reason to keep his secrets anyway. Ash gave the priest a weary smile. "Can we discuss that later? I just need to know if he's going to be all right. Is there anything I can do for him?"

  "Let him rest. It's in God's hands now."

  "God owes him a lot of favors; let's hope He decides to pay up."

  The priest made a hand sign against blasphemy. Ash lay down along the edge of the bed, wrapping his hands around Kieran's good arm. Miyan rushed over and slapped at his leg, crying,

  "Boots! Boots!"

  "Sorry," Ash mumbled. He couldn't move. He barely
felt the girl taking his boots off. By the time a thin blanket settled over him, he was too sleepy even to thank her. He reached for Kieran's dream, twined himself around it, and let go of the world.

  --==*==--

  They rose slowly out of sleep together, simultaneously losing the thread of the same dream; Ash realized that just before he came awake. He opened his eyes just in time to see Kieran open his.

  They looked at each other for a while, gradually becoming separate, becoming real. Kieran glanced around, lost, frowning, then looked back to Ash and smiled.

  "I dreamed you were here," he rasped.

  "Every moment," Ash answered in a voice almost as ruined. His arm had gone numb; he'd slept in the same position all night. He sat up and tried to rub some feeling back into it.

  "Where are we?"

  "A little temple in the middle of nowhere. I took the road you told me to, and this was all I found. I'm afraid the priest wants to turn us over to the Watch, but I had to do something. You were in bad shape."

  "I feel like shit. How do I look?"

  "Better than last night." He felt Kieran's forehead. "And your fever went down. I'll see if I can find you some water."

  Kieran's hand moved to catch Ash's wrist. "Not yet."

  "Aren't you thirsty?"

  "I'm -- yeah. But I'm just a little lost, still. Let me wake up. I'll come with you."

  Ash tried not to show his concern. This was downright clingy by Kieran standards, and Ash wasn't sure how to interpret it. "I don't know if you should get up yet."

  "I'm tired of being helpless. What if this priest..."

  "He's got our guns. I don't know yet whether I could take them back; you're in no shape to try. I don't think he'll do us any harm, though, not after he patched you up so nicely. And there's this girl, seems to be a kind of foster daughter or something, and she's quite taken with you. She won't let him do anything wrong."

  Kieran held his wrist for a moment longer, then let go with a sigh. "Yeah. Okay. I don't know why I'm being such a chickenshit."

  "I guess being tough for so long wears you out. Take a vacation. I'll be the mean one for a couple days, all right? Just until you're back on your feet."

  As he'd hoped, that made Kieran smile.

  His boots were gone. No doubt the priest had hidden them, intending to keep the fugitives from leaving. That was all right, if the Watch wasn't too close behind them. As long as they had a couple days, Ash guessed that he could manage. At the worst, he could clobber the priest with a chair or something and search the premises.

  In daylight, the temple looked shabby. He stood in the sanctuary for a moment, noting that the benches had all been stacked against the wall, and the altar was dusty. There was a wooden eye-of-Dalan hanging on the wall above it, the gilding mostly flaked off, and a rank of candles that were so furred with dust he guessed they hadn't been lit in a year. What the hell kind of temple was this, anyway?

  There were two other doors off the sanctuary. The first one he checked was locked. The other led into a kitchen, where the priest sat at a roughly made table with a book in front of him, half-round spectacles perched on his nose. He looked blankly at Ash, eyes bloodshot. A door stood open to the outside, showing a yard with a well, where the horses were tied near a trough. With a start of guilt, Ash realized he'd forgotten all about them. Fortunately someone had unloaded them, and they looked happy enough. Beyond the horses, all he could see was flat desert, all the way to the purple-gray line of the mountains.

  "Good morning," Ash said.

  "Um. Good morning. How is, uh, Mr. Trevarde? Still alive?"

  "Awake and thirsty."

  "Good, good. There's the water barrel. Cups on the hook there. We have nothing to drink but water, before you ask."

  "No coffee?"

  "Oh. Coffee. A little. I meant, uh, we don't..."

  "Have any liquor. Wouldn't expect it. This is a temple, after all. Can I take this pitcher?"

  "That's a vase."

  "Can I take it?"

  "Well, yes, I suppose. As for this being a temple, it's a mission actually." The priest marked his place in the book and closed it. "A failed mission. At least so far. I'm making a little progress with Miyan, I think. The rest of them, well, I was too late."

  Ash turned with water dripping off his chin. "What are you talking about?"

  As a reply, the priest got up and opened a shuttered window behind him. Ash went to look through it, and froze halfway through wiping his mouth. In that direction, there was a village, or the remains of one. The rounded huts were fallen in on themselves, like broken eggs. Some still showed scorch marks.

  "What happened?"

  The priest gave a weary shrug. "They refused to convert. I hid Miyan, but the rest, well, I couldn't do anything about it."

  "The Watch did this?"

  "Yes, they did. It's the law, you see, there's really no alternative."

  "And how did the Watch learn that this village refused to convert?" He met the priest's eyes for a moment; then the priest looked away. For a long moment, Ash fought the urge to slug the man in the face. In the end he just went back to the water barrel, then back to Kieran.

  He found the room full of Miyan. She was fluttering around, chattering like a squirrel while she did things that looked vaguely like cleaning. Kieran gave Ash a grin, then croaked a reply to the girl in Iavaian.

  "Miyan," Ash said, "don't wear him out."

  "She's entertaining me, Ashes. Let her stay. Damn, I'm thirsty, gimme that."

  Ash sat on the edge of the bed while Kieran worked his way through the large tin pitcher that was actually a vase. "So what are you two talking about?"

  "Tattoos. She likes my wind knot. Says there's a big one, back in the hills a ways. Wants to show it to me."

  "So pretty," Miyan put in, with a large hand gesture that scattered a cloud of dust from the rag she was using. "Big cave, so big auanit made all -- haya? -- all little rocks."

  "A mosaic?" Ash said.

  "All little rocks," Miyan repeated, and went back to her dusting.

  Kieran finished the water and gave the pitcher back. He let his head fall back on the pillow as if raising it to drink had exhausted him. "I kinda heard you talking in the other room. What was that about?"

  "I don't know. Nothing. There used to be a village here but the Watch burned it out. I think we should leave as soon as you can ride. The priest hid our boots, but I can probably find them."

  "No no." Miyan gestured with the rag again. "Miyan hide boots. Hide coat, hide all guns. Miyan keep one gun, okay?"

  "Like hell," Kieran said, but Ash contradicted him.

  "You can have one of the rifles, if you want. We have a spare."

  "Rifles?" Kieran raised an eyebrow.

  "You didn't notice me taking them? No point letting the Watch have them. We don't have a lot of ammunition for them, though."

  Kieran gave a laugh that was half cough. "You're all right."

  "I bet you're hungry."

  "Starving."

  "Back in a minute." He stood to go, but found his way blocked by a suddenly stern-looking Miyan.

  "You no get food. Miyan get food. Man no cook."

  "Why not?"

  "Man no cook. Dalan say. Woman cook."

  "Yes, well, I happen to be quite good at cooking, thank you very much."

  Miyan put a fist on her hip, looking skeptical. "Dalan say. Man no cook."

  "Kieran, would you tell her to let me through?"

  "What makes you think I can change her mind? She's just as opinionated in her native language."

  Ash sighed. "Look -- Miyan -- you can help me. Okay? Show me where you put our food supply.

  We have a big bag of coffee, you want some coffee?"

  The girl blocked his way a moment longer before breaking into giggles. She punched his arm.

  "Joke. You cook. Come on."

  In the kitchen, the priest watched sourly while Miyan and Ash ran in and out, stoking up the stove, fetchin
g water. When Ash rolled up his sleeves and started chopping garlic, the priest cleared his throat.

  "You do realize that the scriptures say that the work of the home is woman's. 'It is hers to make bread, and to see that the mouths of her family are not hungry.' You're going to corrupt my little girl with your invert ways."

  "You're insane." Ash scooped the garlic into the pot and started in on some dried peppers.

  "Bachelors are supposed to starve?"