The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)

How strange, staring upward, that time should move so slowly. The creature had hair, of a kind, but in that last instant he realized that it was not hair at all but a coiling mass of hissing snakes writhing around its face.

A falling star flashed in the heavens. A burst of fire exploded before his eyes, and its brightness shrouded his vision. The monster screamed in such agony that the sound of it might as well have turned every soul there to stone. He could not move but shivered convulsively as that tail was dragged across him, drawn by what force he did not know, nor could he see, nothing except those heavy gray coils pressing their weight into his chest, the tail dwindling until the white stinger floated before his eyes, a bead of venom dangling from the barbed tip, ready to fall into his mouth.

It would burn off his tongue. He would never speak again.

The ground shifted under him. Hands gripped him and hauled him away over the rocky ground, then let him drop onto the hard ground as voices exclaimed in fear and excitement.

“It was a demon!”

“Nay, it was an angel, you fool!”

“It was a phoenix! Are you blind?”

“Not so blind that I don’t know lightning when I see it! That was no creature at all.”

“Gah, gah, gah,” he said, but no words came.

“Is he safe?”

“He is stung, Sister.”

They conferred, but he could only stare up at the heavens where light burned just as it burned across his skin. He shivered, so cold. So cold.

“The old one says there is no cure for the sting of the monster?”

“So he says, but I am not so willing to give up on a brave man.”

When had it become so foggy? A haze drifted before his eyes. Yet those words blazed: a brave man.

Those words gave him heart.

“What do you suggest?”

“I am the only one skilled in healing among us. We will remain here while I do what I can.”

“We have no time for such luxuries, Meriam. In any case, the creature is wounded, but not dead. It may return.”

“Even if we go, you will still be in danger.”

“Perhaps. It is easier to protect one man than an entire retinue. You know I must change my plans because Brother Lupus deserted us. I can bide in Qahirah until Sister Anne sends a brace of soldiers to guard me, if that is necessary.”

“Soldiers cannot defeat such a monster.”

“Enough! You and Elene and your party must leave at dusk tomorrow.”

“Will you abandon him to death after he saved the life of my granddaughter?”

“Nay. He can be our messenger to Anne. He can still serve us, and in serving us may serve himself….”

The wind’s moan tore away the rest of Marcus’ words. Sister Meriam had called him a brave man.

It was better to die bravely than to live with shame.

It was better to die, but he lay there not precisely in pain but unable to move or see, with his skin on fire and yet not really hurting. He lay there and felt the sun rise, although the touch of light hurt him. They shaded him with a lean-to of cloth, and he lay in that shade while Meriam coaxed a bit of honeyed water down his throat, but the smell of honey nauseated him. That stench of honey-carrion that pervaded the monster welled up in his memory, in his throat, and he threw it all back up.

Elene sat beside him, staring at him with solemn eyes. “I didn’t look at him,” she said to her grandmother. “I thought him beneath my notice. How strange that God should act through such a common, ugly, dirty man.”

“Even a cringing dog can bite, Elene. Look more closely at humankind. The outer seeming may not mirror the inner heart.”