Read Online The Devil in Green by Mark Chadbourn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mark Chadbourn
Tags: Fantasy
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slightly hunched. He didn't appear to be singing, merely watching or perhaps listening, deep in thought.
Mallory couldn't understand why the figure made him feel uneasy, or why the tingling tiiat had started in the small of his back was slowly spreading up his spine. Some deeply buried part of him was trying to break out of his subconscious to issue a warning.
As he watched for some sign that would give him an explanation for his reaction, the figure began to turn towards him, as if he sensed Mallory's eyes upon him. Inexplicably, this filled Mallory with dread. He didn't want to see the face inside that cowl.
He looked down at his hands, then up towards the altar, and when he did finally glance back, the figure was gone.
Outside in the night, Mallory tugged Miller away from the uplifted worshippers streaming back to their huts for a few hours' grace before the whole round started again. He found a shadowed spot next to the cathedral walls and said, 'Let's hit the town. We can dump our uniforms and explore. There's got to be some life out there. Maybe we'll find someone who'll take pity on us and buy us a beer.' He knew his bravado was a response to the sobering but stupid fear he had felt in the service.
'Are you crazy? You heard what they said - being caught without the uniform—'
'We're not going to get caught.'
'—is a punishable offence. And we're not supposed to go out of the compound after curfew. I don't even know if we're supposed to go out there at all.'
'I told you, we're not going to get caught. Who's to know? Don't you want to find out what your new neighbours are like?'
Miller protested fulsomely, clearly afraid of jeopardising everything he felt he'd gained, but Mallory chipped away at him on the way back to their quarters so that by the time they arrived, Miller reluctantly agreed to the secret foray.
Daniels and Gardener still hadn't returned, so they quickly changed into their street clothes and slipped out. 'How are we going to get away?' Miller hissed as they flitted from hut to hut.
'I had a look around earlier. There's a spot not far from the gate where we can slip over the wall. When we come back we can give the guard some bullshit about being on a secret mission or something. He's bound to let us in.' Miller didn't look convinced, but he allowed himself to be swayed by Mallory's confidence.
The camp was still as they made their way past the gate. But before they could climb the ladder to the runway around the top of the wall, the sound of running feet and frantic raised voices rapidly approached from the other side. Mallory pushed Miller back into the shadows.
An insistent cry hailed the guard. Mallory couldn't make out what was said, but the guard responded by hand-winding an old-fashioned klaxon before opening the gates.
Nine knights rushed in through the widening gap, the blue flash on their shoulders clear in the flickering flame of the torch mounted above the gate. Their swords were drawn as they constantly scanned all around with their army eyes. They were in a terrible state, their uniforms torn and charred, their bare skin covered with cuts and bruises; some had bound deeper wounds with makeshift bandages torn from their shirts, the material now stained black. Their faces were grim with determination.
In the middle of the group, two knights hauled what Mallory at first thought was burned log. It was only when he saw its rolling white eyes that he realised it was a man, his skin seared black; Miller turned away from the smell of cooked flesh. The knight was still alive, but he wouldn't be for long.
The ones at the rear gathered around one of their number who had a wooden box clutched tightly to his chest. They drove hard into the compound then yelled at the guard to close the gates.
A group of five men hurried from the direction of the cathedral to meet them. The only one Mallory recognised was Stefan, his balding head gleaming like a skull. Ignoring the suffering of the wounded
Mallory couldn't understand why the figure made him feel uneasy, or why the tingling tiiat had started in the small of his back was slowly spreading up his spine. Some deeply buried part of him was trying to break out of his subconscious to issue a warning.
As he watched for some sign that would give him an explanation for his reaction, the figure began to turn towards him, as if he sensed Mallory's eyes upon him. Inexplicably, this filled Mallory with dread. He didn't want to see the face inside that cowl.
He looked down at his hands, then up towards the altar, and when he did finally glance back, the figure was gone.
Outside in the night, Mallory tugged Miller away from the uplifted worshippers streaming back to their huts for a few hours' grace before the whole round started again. He found a shadowed spot next to the cathedral walls and said, 'Let's hit the town. We can dump our uniforms and explore. There's got to be some life out there. Maybe we'll find someone who'll take pity on us and buy us a beer.' He knew his bravado was a response to the sobering but stupid fear he had felt in the service.
'Are you crazy? You heard what they said - being caught without the uniform—'
'We're not going to get caught.'
'—is a punishable offence. And we're not supposed to go out of the compound after curfew. I don't even know if we're supposed to go out there at all.'
'I told you, we're not going to get caught. Who's to know? Don't you want to find out what your new neighbours are like?'
Miller protested fulsomely, clearly afraid of jeopardising everything he felt he'd gained, but Mallory chipped away at him on the way back to their quarters so that by the time they arrived, Miller reluctantly agreed to the secret foray.
Daniels and Gardener still hadn't returned, so they quickly changed into their street clothes and slipped out. 'How are we going to get away?' Miller hissed as they flitted from hut to hut.
'I had a look around earlier. There's a spot not far from the gate where we can slip over the wall. When we come back we can give the guard some bullshit about being on a secret mission or something. He's bound to let us in.' Miller didn't look convinced, but he allowed himself to be swayed by Mallory's confidence.
The camp was still as they made their way past the gate. But before they could climb the ladder to the runway around the top of the wall, the sound of running feet and frantic raised voices rapidly approached from the other side. Mallory pushed Miller back into the shadows.
An insistent cry hailed the guard. Mallory couldn't make out what was said, but the guard responded by hand-winding an old-fashioned klaxon before opening the gates.
Nine knights rushed in through the widening gap, the blue flash on their shoulders clear in the flickering flame of the torch mounted above the gate. Their swords were drawn as they constantly scanned all around with their army eyes. They were in a terrible state, their uniforms torn and charred, their bare skin covered with cuts and bruises; some had bound deeper wounds with makeshift bandages torn from their shirts, the material now stained black. Their faces were grim with determination.
In the middle of the group, two knights hauled what Mallory at first thought was burned log. It was only when he saw its rolling white eyes that he realised it was a man, his skin seared black; Miller turned away from the smell of cooked flesh. The knight was still alive, but he wouldn't be for long.
The ones at the rear gathered around one of their number who had a wooden box clutched tightly to his chest. They drove hard into the compound then yelled at the guard to close the gates.
A group of five men hurried from the direction of the cathedral to meet them. The only one Mallory recognised was Stefan, his balding head gleaming like a skull. Ignoring the suffering of the wounded
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