Perdition (Dred Chronicles 1)

Tam inclined his head, his expression inscrutable. For his part, Jael saw the huge, swamping sorrow in the other man’s dark eyes. The other man crossed the room and sat down beside Einar, keeping vigil. Once they were alone, or relatively speaking, Dred put a hand on his arm. He tensed at the contact since his skin was still raw.

Apparently she felt the flinch and drew back. “I wish you’d stopped when you saw how dangerous it was. I would’ve accepted that the goal had become untenable. Please know, I’d never assume you’re willing to suffer for Queensland’s sake.”

“Queensland can go sit on a spike,” he said quietly. “But for you, I’d do a whole lot worse. I’m sorry I wasn’t here—”

“It’s not your fault. I couldn’t get to him, either. They backed him into a corner . . . so many of them, too.” She slammed a palm against the wall; and he could tell she wanted to scream or rage, but the Dread Queen couldn’t. In public, she was all regal composure, limned in icy wrath.

“They did it on purpose, I’m sure. Probably had orders from Grigor. It’s no secret that Einar was your man.”

One of them, anyway.

“He was all warrior,” she said softly. “I told the men I’d come back for the dead, but I can’t leave him here. What if Silence’s people—” She broke off, likely unable to articulate the grotesqueries that awaited him in Entropy.

Jael beckoned. “Let’s take care of him. The men can hold this room long enough for us to find the nearest chute.”

Tam glanced up when they crossed the dark room, regret etched on his countenance as if with knives. “Hubris. I thought I knew everything, saw everything. Could weigh all the factors and make the best decisions.”

“Nobody fits that profile,” Dred said. “Pick somebody to take charge for a few.”

Tam stood. “Martine, you’re in command while we’re gone. We’ll be back shortly.”

“And if reinforcements show up while you’re gone?” the woman asked.

“Queenslanders?” Dred prompted.

“We kill the bastards for Einar!”

Jael watched as Dred strode over to Silence. “I must offer my lieutenant honor before we press on. You’d do the same for your Speaker.”

The gray-haired hag signed.

Skullface interpreted, “Death respects ritual. It is well with us.”

Then Dred said to Jael, “I know you can take him, but we should do it together.”

A sigh escaped the spymaster, likely at the prospect of such a permanent farewell. It wouldn’t be much of a service, but the fallen giant would get more than a shove; somebody would say a few words at least. Together, they hoisted the big man and carried him out of the hall. Dred’s mining helmet gave off little illumination, but enough to keep Jael from tripping over his own feet.

The three of them walked quietly in proper funereal procession, according to Tam’s directions. A few minutes later, they turned down the hallway with the chute at the end. He hurt physically as he lifted his share of Einar’s weight—and not because his skin was still tender. Though he hadn’t known the man long, he’d miss him.

I wonder if I have the right to say he was a friend.

Men didn’t hang such emotional labels on things, generally. There were drinking buddies and people you trusted not to punch you in the face, those who might not sell you out at the first offer. Einar, well, he hadn’t known him well enough to draw those lines. Jael wished he had.

“You were strong and fierce,” Dred said softly, “and you never once let me down.”

I could do worse for a eulogy.

“You were like a brother to me,” Tam added. “We came in on the supply ship together. Joined up with Artan together, not knowing what to expect or what he was like. You won his approval with your fists, your refusal to back down, and with that giant axe. And more often than not, you kept him from killing me when I didn’t know when to hold my peace.”

Feeling like an interloper, Jael murmured, “You’ll be missed, big man.” A fragment of a quote knocked at the back of his brain, so he offered that, too: “‘Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.’”

Dred gave a jerky, approving nod. There were no tears as they lifted him and sent his body down. He waited to see if he could hear the fallen giant hit bottom, but only silence came back, bleak and unknowable as the grave. Then Dred set out with no further commentary; and Tam fell in behind her, his steps small and meek, a man weighed down by his humanity and capacity to err. But if he thought choosing mercy, choosing not to let Jael die alone, was a bad thing, then Jael would argue with him on that point. As she strode toward the hall, Jael watched Dred construct the Dread Queen’s armor, scale by scale.

By the time they arrived, she was magnificent in her determination. “We have not come this far, only to let the final prey elude us. The Great Bear’s hiding somewhere in this territory. Divide into scouting parties, each eight strong. Find him.” Queensland forces howled in anticipation, but she held up a hand to quiet them. “Do not engage. Grigor belongs to me, and I’ll have his blood in recompense before the day’s done.”

The Skullface watched Silence’s response to the queen’s words, then pronounced, “Your loss is greater than ours. We approve your blood vow.” Death’s Handmaiden etched a final symbol in the air, spoken by her painted mouthpiece. “So must it be.”

41

Death’s Dominion

Dred appointed Tam and Jael to lead other squads. It was a risky maneuver, dividing up her men, but Grigor had a lot of space to hide. Maybe he thought if he vacated his throne room and went to ground, she’d forget about his alliance with the now-dead Priest, ignore his offensive against Queensland.

Not bloody likely.

If it hadn’t been personal, with Einar’s loss it became so. Dred wouldn’t rest until she took the Great Bear’s life. And she suspected Jael felt the same. Certainly Tam did. The spymaster was taking it hard, though she didn’t know for certain that it would’ve mattered if he’d brought Martine to the battle sooner and left Jael alone in the bowels of the ship. She liked the man better now because he’d finally shown a hint of human kindness.

“I’ll take the low ground. Tam, search the upper levels. Jael, see if he’s hiding in his quarters nearby.”

Orders given, she took Martine in her group, along with six others. On the surface, this was less a glorious final battle than a manhunt. But it wasn’t surprising, given the nature of her foe. There was no point in seeking honor here; expecting treachery was the best way to keep your guts inside.