Read Online ARC: The Corpse-Rat King by Lee Battersby - Free Book Online

thought there’s a happy lad. There’s someone who knows what his place is.”
    Gerd stayed silent, but the question hung between them.
    “I couldn’t believe it, I really couldn’t,” Marius said, answering the silence. “Nobody could be that happy with pig shit and wanking in the bushes.”
    “I don’t…”
    “Yes you did. Every bloody village boy does. Anyway, you could have said no. You could have said ‘No thank you, I’m happy where I am. I don’t want to see the world and learn a trade and have adventures and be rich.’ But you didn’t, did you?”
    “Well, it wasn’t exactly like you promised, was it?”
    “Because I’m a liar , you idiot.” This time, Marius did slap the ground. “I lied to you, and you believed it, and then I had to actually try and teach you something and make us both rich and happy.” He squeezed his eyes shut, biting back the images in front of them. “And you still fucked it up.”
    After that, there was nothing more to say. Marius closed his eyes and let the raindrops find their way down his face to the ground. They felt like little fingers across his skin, like Keth, the dancing girl at the Hauled Keel , a million tiny touches designed to simultaneously relax the skin and embolden the blood. Oh, the things that girl could do with her tiny, dancing fingers. If Marius concentrated, he could pretend….
    “You could have just said you didn’t hate me and left it at that.” The sorrow in Gerd’s voice banished all thoughts of pleasure. Marius opened his eyes. He was in a wet cave, in the rain, and he was still dead.
    “Yes, well, now you know.”
    They lay on opposite sides of the fire, listening to the rain thunder against the rock shelf outside. Marius stared out the dimly-lit entrance, willing on a sleep he felt neither necessary nor welcome. Anything to avoid another conversation. Then Gerd spoke once more, and the hope was shattered.
    “You know, this reminds me of home.”
    “What?”
    “This. It reminds me of being at home.”
    Marius contemplated the hard rock beneath his hip, the wind and spray chilling him from outside.
    “How? You grew up in a village.”
    “Exactly.” Gerd shifted, scraping his bulk across the rock floor. “It’s like… winter, you know. You live your whole life with the village. You know everyone, they know you. You’re with each other every moment of every day. But then, at night, in winter, you’re lying in bed, and the rain is coming down, and there’s a wall of water between you and everybody else. And you just know that the whole village is like you, lying alone, wrapped up in a warm little bubble, with a wall of water between them and the world. And you’re all together and alone at the same time, and it’s comforting, you know? The sound of the rain, curving round you like a blanket. Really comforting.”
    He lapsed into silence. Marius shook his head.
    “You know, last year I spent six weeks sleeping under hedges, and probably about the same amount of time sleeping with whatever whore I could afford.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing. I’m just too polite to say fuck you and your homespun philosophies.” He clenched, and sent a fart towards the fire. “Now go to sleep before I set fire to your arse hairs.”
    He experienced long seconds of happy silence before Gerd spoke again.
    “You know we don’t need sleep.”
    “For fuck’s sake.” Marius scrambled to his feet and stepped to the edge of the cave.
    “Where are you going?”
    “I need a shit.”
    “We don’t need to…” But Marius was outside, the water battering against his head drowning out Gerd’s voice. He waited long enough to be sure that his young watch dog was still paying attention, then ran as hard as he could, down the hillside, into the night.
    It’s no easy thing, to run headlong through strange country in the dark. Roots leap from the ground to trip you. Branches reach out to grab your clothes and scratch at your