Blood Moon (Blood Rain Book 2) Read online

  The Ashen people were everywhere. Even though they were outsiders, people weren’t looking at them with hostility. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Mercy could smell food cooking everywhere. Something about it smelled spicy and made her mouth water. Stalls were set up along the road leading away from the docks selling everything from food to strange little masks glued onto long sticks that looked like they were all depicting the same face. Even though Mender of Spirits hadn’t taught her to read much of the Ashen tongue, she recognized the word “Crevane” on the mask stall’s sign and realized, with surprise, that all of them were depictions of Dictator Crevane’s face.

  Mirilee said, “I want a mask. Yes, we should all get masks. That’ll help us blend in. Everyone’s got one.”

  Kylas stepped forward and traded a few bits of silver for some of the masks. Mercy had a feeling that he was being fleeced on the prices, but Pyron did say that the people weren’t always friendly to foreigners. Mercy was glad that at least Kylas acted surprise at the amount they were charging and didn’t flash around the fact that he probably had a good deal of money left after purchasing them. Mirilee went to the next stall and bought everyone a conglomeration of different types of meats and vegetables that were served on sticks. Mercy was surprised at the spicy, salty flavors and finished hers shortly after Mirilee handed it to her. Erebus went to the same stall and bought everyone another round.

  Every time they went by a stall selling food, they each tried it, even some of the ones that looked disgusting. One advertised “Cooked Spider Surprise.” As far as Mercy was concerned, there was no surprise to it. It was a real spider, grilled and served in a paper bowl with some sort of sweet and spicy sauce. It didn’t make the spider taste much better, because it couldn’t disguise the texture of it, or what it used to be.

  Even though she was having fun, Mercy still felt nervous. It was the same sort of feeling that she sometimes would get when she expected a raid from the beast men in her village. Even though everyone was having fun, there was some sort of unspoken expectation, as though they were all waiting for something.

  She could also see another reason for her to be concerned that had nothing to do with her instincts. The prisoners of war from the Sylvan Islands were being used as slaves at the Ashen capital, and the islanders looked very similar to Mercy’s people. All around her, there were islanders being led around on chains or doing hard manual labor. Her father was right about one thing; the Ashen people probably wouldn’t know the difference between people from the Sylvan Islands, and people that lived in the neighboring forest. She kept the mask over her face and stayed close to the others, giving one of them her money if there was something she wanted to buy.

  They followed the main road and the marching soldiers into a large, round area in the center of town. That seemed to be where most of the festivities were taking place. There was a large fountain in the center of the square depicting a bronze statue of a man on horseback. He didn’t have the same features as the face on the mask, but someone had playfully taped one of the paper masks over the face of the bronze rider. The statue was almost as tall as the buildings around it. Even though Mercy couldn’t read the inscription in front of it, she could tell from the gold plated placard that he was some sort of famous military general turned dictator.

  Mercy had to admire the Ashen people for their fashion. Most of them, even the ones that didn’t appear to have much money, wore very nicely made clothing. She guessed most of it was made out of wool or cotton. The women wore long, flowing dresses, usually in a color that matched their hair and eyes, and the men usually wore military uniforms or well-tailored suits. Those that couldn’t afford suits wore vests and shirts, but all of the clothing seemed to be very clean. She didn’t see anyone sitting in alleyways or scavenging for food as she had in Concord.

  She remembered Pyron’s words, “We take care of our own.”

  Music floated around the circular plaza like the smells that were wafting around the streets in front of it. Most of the music sounded like military cadences, but at the same time there was enough rhythm and variations to the songs that people were dancing to them, mostly in a slow waltz. There was an entire line of soldiers standing rigidly in front of a large stage at the back of the court, and people were starting to stand in front of them, whispering in excitement. Mercy only caught a little of their conversation, but it was enough to know that the big “event” was about to start.

  Mercy whispered to Erebus, “Ask someone what’s about to happen. I think it would seem suspicious if I spoke to them, because of my race.”

  Erebus nodded and gently patted the woman in front of him on the shoulder. She turned and glanced apprehensively at him. Even so, Mercy knew it would be okay. One of the most respected beast men in Erebus’ colony had said that if Erebus wanted to he could talk a bird into landing in front of a snake. While the analogy was a sinister one, as far as Mercy could tell it wasn’t very far from the truth.

  Erebus smiled awkwardly and said in the common language, “Excuse me, miss. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m a stranger here on shore leave from one of the merchant vessels. This festival and your city are both amazing, but I’m wondering what this festival is about, and who’s going to be speaking.”

  The woman’s concern melted away and she said, “Oh, why this is the Festival of Renaming. Whenever a new dictator comes to power, he renames the city after himself. It’s one of our oldest traditions. The dictator himself is going to speak today, and they say that he’s caught some of the leaders of our enemies. He’s going to make an example of them.”

  She grinned wickedly and then turned away from Erebus. Mercy glanced around the square and saw something she hadn’t noticed before. There was a stall selling little wicker dolls that were dangling from strings to the children in and around the square. Many children were chasing one another, waving the dolls like patriotic flags, and then Mercy realized exactly what was about to happen. The stage at the far end of the plaza had a large raised platform with a long wooden pole suspended above it, just behind the podium. She wasn’t just about to hear a speech, she was about to witness an execution.

  “I want to leave, right now!”

  Mirilee turned to Mercy and said, “Mercy, what’s wrong?”

  “Pyron was right. We never should’ve come here.”

  Erebus’ eyes got wide as he noticed the dolls as well. “You’re right. Damn, we were stupid!”

  Kylas frowned. “What’s going on? Are you okay, Mercy? You’re shaking. Are you about to get sick?”

  Before she could reply, the music stopped and was replaced by the sound of trumpets blaring and the entire square erupted with noise. People were cheering, waving the wicker dolls or small red and gray flags. A man dressed in a lavish, dark-gray military uniform was riding a huge, black, gray-spotted warhorse towards the stage. Mercy recognized him immediately. His face was the one depicted on the paper masks.

  Dictator Crevane waved and smiled, gracefully dismounting from horseback and climbing the steps towards the podium on the stage. Mercy quickly put the mask over her face as she saw Pyron among a long line of men in gray and black uniforms filing in behind him. There was a dangerous charisma that surrounded the dictator that Mercy didn’t like. Without thinking about it, she had even found herself wanting to clap and cheer for him. Mirilee and Kylas actually were applauding and shouting along with the crowd. Erebus was as well, but his smile didn’t touch his eyes. He knew what they were about to see, and Mercy could tell that he wanted to leave as much as she did.

  The dictator began the speech in the Ashen language. Mercy could understand it, but she could tell that Mirilee and Kylas couldn’t.

  The woman that had spoken to Erebus earlier turned to him and asked, “Need me to translate?”

  “Thank you, but I think that I know enough words to pick it up.”

  She nodded and faced forward again, with an enthralled expression.

  The dictator began, “People of
the city of Crevane…..”

  This brought a fresh round of applause.

  He continued to speak and the applause immediately died down. “This festival is a time-honored tradition in our great city, and I know that you’ve been waiting patiently for me to rename the city after myself for a long time. I want you to know that everything I do, I do for a reason. As you know, this war with the Sylvan Islands has taken a toll on all of us, and I didn’t feel that I could justify naming the city after myself without showing you that we are a strong people, and we will win this war.”

  Everyone began to cheer. People and children waved their flags with enthusiasm. Mercy glanced at the line of men behind Crevane, and accidently caught Pyron’s eye. His posture became more rigid, his eyes got wide, and even though it was hard to tell, she was sure that he went a shade paler. But, it was only an instant before he regained his stoic expression and stared straight ahead. Even though it was hard to sense emotions through the ocean of patriotic pride around her, Mercy felt his apprehension and worry, and somehow that seemed worse to her than if he had been angry.

  A group of soldiers led a line of five people chained together towards the stage. They were definitely islanders. She could tell by their hair and eye color, along with their tall athletic build and tan skin. Many of them looked young, probably in their early twenties. Some were looking downcast, and one was even weeping, but the man in the back of the line was staring defiantly at the crowd.

  The dictator continued, “The five men you see standing before you were caught in an attempt to terrorize our city.”

  Mercy felt anger flashing through the crowd around her. Some of the people were even throwing garbage at the prisoners.

  Mercy said in barely a whisper to Erebus, “Please, can we go now?”

  Mercy could barely hear Erebus reply, “We have to stay. If we try to leave now, we’ll seem suspicious. Don’t look when they start the executions. You can’t start crying, or they’ll know you sympathize with the islanders and they’ll think you’re one of them. Act coy and bury your face in my arm if you have to, just stay calm.”

  Mercy nodded.

  Mirilee turned to them and said in surprise, “They’re going to hang them? That’s what’s going on?”

  Kylas grabbed Mirilee’s arm a little too hard, putting a finger to his lips. Mirilee became pale but nodded, swallowing hard. Mercy remembered how Mirilee reacted when her tribe banished her. She had barely been able to keep herself from jumping up to help her. As they looked at the line of downtrodden prisoners facing death on the platform, they both knew that they wouldn’t be able to just sit and watch. They had to leave before one of them made a scene and blew their cover.

  The dictator said, “We caught them off the coast and sank their ship, but as you see we managed to capture the leaders of the group for questioning. They said that they were planning to infiltrate the city in the guise of slaves to incite a rebellion among the prisoners-of-war. They said that they were going to watch our city burn from the inside out.”

  There was a dark murmur from the crowd. Mercy could feel their anger, a pressure making her feel claustrophobic.

  The dictator said, “Remember, we must be ever vigilant for spies. These people that we are beginning to rely on to build our buildings and do the jobs that we do not desire to do are still the enemy. I’ve decided that we must take extra measures to make sure that the prisoners use their term of service as a time for silent penitence for their actions against us. Those that expose prisoners that wish to rebel, or spies hidden within our midst will be handsomely rewarded. And there will be new rules that I will enumerate later for the guards and citizens to follow that control prisoners currently. But, in the meantime, may the fate of their leaders be an example for everyone to see.”

  Mercy noticed several people glancing in her direction, including the woman that Erebus was talking to earlier. She saw them whispering back and forth. Even though there were several overpowering emotions within the crowd, she could feel their greed and distrust as plainly as the sinister smiles spreading on their faces. She quickly put the Crevane mask over her face and shouted as loudly and enthusiastically as she could manage along with the crowd.

  Erebus put an arm around her shoulder and whispered directly in her ear, “It’s not working, Mercy. They think that you’re one of the spies. You were right. We’re going, now.”

  Erebus began to pull Mercy away from the crowd, trying to make room for her by going first, pulling her gently by the hand. Kylas and Mirilee watched them leaving. Apparently, even though they were foreigners, since they hadn’t spoken much to Mercy, they were safe from the crowd’s retribution. Mercy glanced behind her, just in time to see the first of the prisoners standing on a chair with a noose around her neck. The woman’s eyes locked with hers for only a moment, and then the executioner kicked the chair out from under her, and the woman’s neck snapped with the sound of a thick twig being stepped on. Instantly, her eyes became as lifeless as marbles.

  Everything seemed to freeze around Mercy. She felt as though she was in a nightmare trying to run away. Every movement was too slow and no matter how much she tried she couldn’t move her feet. It was as though the crowd around her was trying to pull her back in, a rip tide pulling her beneath the water to drown her. Children were waving the wicker dolls which dangled from miniature nooses and she now saw that they had Xs for eyes and frowns on their faces.

  Mercy couldn’t help it, she threw up on the ground in front of her, and as she looked behind her once again, she saw several of the men that were wearing the black and gray uniforms walking at a quick pace down from the stage and shoving their way through the crowd in her direction. Suddenly, her feet began to work again, and she bounded away like a deer being pursued by a group of hunters. Instead of Erebus pulling her, she was pulling him. She rushed in the direction of the ship.

  “Mercy, you can’t go back to the ship! If they follow you you’ll be trapped!”

  Mercy turned abruptly into an alleyway and down a side street. The city looked abandoned. It was as though the entire population had gone to hear the dictator’s speech, and her footfalls against the empty street sounded loud even to her own ears.

  Mercy turned to Erebus, “We need to split up. They’re looking for both of us. If one of us can escape, maybe they can get Pyron to help. Make yourself look like an Ashen person, and then go and try to blend in with the crowd.”

  “I’m not leaving you. If we can get back to the water’s edge, we can swim back to the ship without anyone seeing us.”

  Suddenly, Mercy heard hurried footsteps around the alleyway behind them. The men in the gray suits poured out of it like angry wasps from a nest. She didn’t see Pyron among them. All of them were excited and angry. They exhibited a bloodlust that was similar to that of a well-trained hunting dog. She supposed that was exactly what they were. They were the dictator’s personal assassins, and nothing would stop them from taking down their prey.

  Mercy began running towards another side street, expecting Erebus to follow. To her surprise, Erebus ran backwards, taking the alleyway right in front of the one that the group of spies had just come from towards the main street. He also took most of her pursuers with him.

  Mercy felt tears welling up in her eyes as she thought, “Damn it, Erebus! If you nearly die again to save me, I’m never forgiving you.”

  As if to punctuate the thought, Mercy heard what sounded like a miniature explosion in the alleyway behind her. It reverberated in a terrifying echo behind her, and then she heard a sound that stopped her dead in her tracks. Erebus screaming in surprise and pain, and then his screaming stopped abruptly. Mercy turned just in time to see the man in black and gray hit her squarely in the forehead with a long, black stick. Then everything went red and then black as she felt her body fall onto the cobblestones beneath her feet.

  5

  The first sensation that Mercy was aware of was that she was cold, and then it was the painful throbbi
ng of her head. Everything was dark, but her eyes slowly began to adjust. She was lying on a small cot with a very stiff mattress. There was a chamber pot next to the bed and a tray of cold food and a small cup of water on the floor near a large, wooden door. Mercy flinched in disgust as she saw the roaches and mice that were swarming over her food scattering as she began to stir. The small prison cell had no light except for a little sunlight filtering in from a barred window that was far too high for her to reach. She also realized that the reason she was cold was that most of her clothing was gone. Clearly, they had strip-searched her while she was unconscious.

  “Thank the Forest Gods for small favors,” Mercy thought.

  Mercy’s only experience with a prison cell was when she was captured by the Stealer Wings on the desert plateaus. That cell was a large cage – a gilded cage. It was decorated extravagantly because it was usually used to hold nobility that were caught for a petty crime. This cell was very different.

  It was unnervingly dark and the only bars she saw were the ones over the window and a couple over a slot in the upper part of the door. She guessed that the upper part of the door could be slid away if someone wanted to look in on a prisoner since there seemed to be a miniscule sliver of torch light flickering through. Her cell wasn’t a cage at all it was more like a giant, stone box with thick walls and no light. Mercy felt despair all around her, and it was difficult not to succumb to the emotion. She wasn’t sure if the feelings she felt were from other prisoners or from the place itself. Either way, she knew that if she had to stay there for very long, she would go insane.

  Mercy pressed her back against the wall and pulled her legs towards her chest, and then closed her eyes and tried to think. “Kylas and Mirilee are still out there. They’ll find Pyron, and he’ll somehow get me out of this mess. I won’t give up! Erebus…”

  Mercy felt her throat tighten and, despite trying to fight against it, she began to cry. The last sound that she had heard from Erebus was his scream of pain. The sound before that was a deafening roar, and Mercy realized in hindsight that it had, indeed, sounded like a miniature cannon. It was one of the guns that Pyron told her about. If what he said was true, then Erebus was hit by something deadlier than any arrow. While Erebus could heal quickly with access to blood, she hadn’t heard a struggle afterwards that suggested he hadn’t bitten anyone.