the monster’s leg.
“There were eight others like this,” said the bailiff.
Eight? But there had been nine. Hogan, Argoth thought, my dear friend—where have you gone?
Argoth turned to Shim. “They need to be collected and destroyed. Their master must not return and find them.”
“We also found a passage beyond the chamber where the battle took place. It is deep and broad and leads into the belly of the mountain.”
Shim nodded. “For years we’ve lived with the caves of this land, ignoring them, ignoring those who disappear. Perhaps it is time we find out what lives in their depths.”
He walked the distance between his men and Argoth’s group to stand before Argoth. Shim searched his face. “You’ve done well, Captain,” he said. “Very well. And you’ll have your celebration feast, but not just yet.”
Argoth looked into the eyes of his old friend and found . . . honesty.
What a fool he’d been to doubt him.
“What’s wrong?” asked Shim.
“Nothing,” said Argoth.
“You don’t trust me yet?” asked Shim. “Lords, I should take offense.”
“I—”
“I nothing,” said Shim.
“Do they trust this?” asked Argoth.
“You are so full of doubts and fears. Perhaps that’s what comes of excessive hiding. But it doesn’t matter. I trust it,” said Shim. “I trust you. And they trust me.”
“You’re taking a great risk,” said Argoth in a low voice.
“Such little faith,” said Shim.
He put one of his arms around Argoth’s shoulders and turned to his men. “My lords,” he called.
Lords?
Two men separated themselves from the other soliders. As they approached, Argoth saw it was Bosser, a captain of the Vargon Clan, and the Prime, the head of the Clan Council.
“Do you see?” asked Shim. “You are not alone.”
Both Bosser and the Prime came forward to stand before Argoth.
Bosser stroked the mustache that grew down to his chin.
“Welcome back, Captain,” said the Prime.
In a quiet voice, Shim said, “It is time, my friend, for us to receive a little instruction.”
Argoth should have felt hope or worry, but after all that had happened, he only felt a weariness descend upon him.
“A new order will arise in this land,” whispered the Prime.
The words struck Argoth. Weren’t those exactly the words the woman had used? Argoth looked to Bosser. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Not all Glories inherited their rule,” said Shim. “Some of them had to take it by force.”
“There are more powers at work here than just those of men,” said Argoth.
Shim shook his head. “Then we adjust the strategy.”
He turned to the men circling them. “Men of Shoka,” he said. “It is time to celebrate, for one of ours has saved the land.”
They did celebrate that night at the Shoka fortress Lord Shim himself commanded. Shim made sure to ease his men with plenty of ale. They ate and drank and danced and then Argoth told them about how the monster had come after him and Hogan, the two who had first attacked it in the tower. He described the giant night maw and its bluish light. He described the power of the monster and its beautiful master. He told of Sugar and Talen having the courage and sense to deliver the Skir Master’s ravelers. Of the battle, he spoke little. Then he told of how Legs had led them out.
He left huge gaps in the story. He had to. Over the next few days the men would begin to wonder—what of Purity, why did the beast rescue her, what was Matiga’s connection? He suspected the Crab, before he died, would have revealed that the Skir Master enthralled Argoth. He was sure that report was running, even now, through the clans. There were knots upon knots left to untangle, and he would cut them all with the truth. But not just yet.
After the tale, someone called out for a song. “That blind one’s a singer,” one of the men said. Argoth remembered Purity saying something about that.
Legs sat up, chewing on a mouthful of frog’s leg.
“Come on, boy,” someone called. “A song.”
Legs swallowed, put down his frog leg, and wiped his mouth. He rose. “Only if you promise not to pelt me with vegetables, bones, or knives.”
A few men chuckled.
“I don’t want to be blindsided,” Legs said.
More laughed at that jest.
Argoth considered Legs again. The boy was resourceful. He kept his wits. He also was a puzzle. Had he been changed by the woman’s weave as well?
Legs took a big breath, made a flourish, then began a song about the Mighty One Hundred—Sleth hunters in old Cathay. Again Argoth was surprised. Legs sang