Chapter 6 #2
Gallmau tucked her under one arm and held up a lantern to illuminate the bodies.
Karabil and Tharin lay on their backs, arms crossed on their chests and tied with strips of cloth.
As battered and bloodied as their bodies were—Gallmau felt sick as he recalled bashing Tharin’s undead form over and over again with his shield—they had both been posed in a manner which suggested solemnity and peace.
Three coins had been laid on their faces.
Silver on one eye, and gold on the other.
A copper marker had been placed on their lips.
“I wasn’t sure if this was some sort of death magic or not.
” Gallmau wished the religious tutors who had tried to beat every story about the Saints into his skull had told him anything useful about other religions.
Meri at least knew the basics of his faith.
He knew next to nothing about hers. “We lifted the bodies onto the wagon and left them as they were. Tumas has sent for a Religious from the House of the Prophets in Lutecia.”
“A copper coin for the third Prophet, so the deceased may tell the Divine of his good deeds during life.” Meri’s voice was hoarse with grief, but it grew stronger as she continued.
“A silver one for the second Prophet, so the deceased may see back to the sins he has committed and repent. Lastly, a gold coin for the first Prophet, so the deceased may see Paradise itself.”
“This is how your people bury their dead?” Gallmau had suspected that, but why two Bone Lords would spend all that time and effort preparing corpses for a religious burial was beyond him. All faiths preached that Bone Lords had powers from Hell itself. At least he thought they did.
“How were they positioned?” Meri’s weight sagged against him, and Gallmau put down the lantern to help her sit next to the bodies. “When you found them, did their heads face South?”
“Yes.” Gallmau, who had spent every summer of his childhood on the fishing boat his mother’s family depended on for their livelihood, had a flawless sense of direction on land or sea.
“Also, Sinan and Naghwe talked in a language I’ve never heard most of the time.
But at one point I heard them chanting in Kushian.
I couldn’t make out most of it, but you’ve taught me the word for Paradise, and they used it. ”
“I don’t understand how they knew to prepare the bodies.
” Meri didn’t protest when Gallmau pulled her close and gave her a hug.
Her eyes were wet, but no tears ran down her cheeks.
“Or why Sinan and Naghwe could chant the Prayer for the Dead. They’re not supposed to be able to say holy names or enter sacred places. ”
“Well, Bone Lords do worship death, after all.” Gallmau felt all of this conversation about religion had gone way beyond his rather vague conviction that saying prayers to Saint Attilio, his patron saint, was the right thing to do, but making an offering or two to the Sea Spirits off the coast wouldn’t hurt, either.
“Stands to reason they’d know all about funerals. ”
“This is Cliona.” Meri turned her attention to the third body.
The assassin had been wrapped in the same shroud-like material Sinan had used as a cape, and her severed head had been carefully bound to her chest with cloth strips.
Both of her eyes had been removed, and black thread used to sew the eyelids shut.
“She threatened to dig Sinan’s eyes out of their sockets, and I guess he did the same to her when he won. ”
Gallmau shivered. He didn’t like monsters, the human or the animal kind.
Maybe it was that fear which had driven him to join Meri and her two countrymen from Kush after his experiences in the Witches’ War. The four of them had taken out some dangerous creatures, but the death magic they had seen today dwarfed anything they had encountered before.
The floorboards creaked again as Tumas came back onto the bed of the wagon.
His face broke into a grin when he saw Meri awake.
“Good to see the two of you ready to fight.” The captain bowed, scooped up Meri’s hand, and gave it a kiss.
“Mademoiselle, Tumas de Concarneau, Officieur de Fortune in the Gardes Soissons, at your service.”
Something approaching a smile crossed Meri’s lips. “Good evening to you, monsieur. Don’t pledge your service to me so easily; I just might accept that offer.”
“Stop flirting and tell me if the runner’s back.” Gallmau was glad for the distraction Tumas had provided, but he was anxious to learn how the news of his return had been received.
“The runner notified the Secrétaire that the King’s son was back with the most beautiful arena fighter in the world and the two of them had a tussle with a few Bone Lords. That got the old man’s attention.”
Gallmau could only hope the runner hadn’t used those exact words to describe him to the officer in charge of security for the entire royal household. “Well, I suppose it would be hard to keep this quiet.”
He thought of the Queen receiving the news and winced.
Best if he found Zhang Jue, the Sorcier du Roi, and told him everything before facing her.
After all, it was before dawn, and the news shouldn’t have spread too far.
He still had a chance of making it back into the palace his way, rather than causing a scene that might upset the Queen even more than his return.
“Will the Gardes Soissons be waiting for us when we arrive in the capital?” Gallmau hoped it would be a small contingent, no more than a dozen or so.
Tumas’s smile broadened. “Not only us, Your Highness. There was already a mob on the streets waiting for your arrival as the runner rode back. By the time we arrive, half the city will be there.”