Because I'm an absolute weenie and not a horsewoman, I spend my time clinging to Kassam's back as we ride atop the largest griffin with no saddle of any kind. Sometimes he rides at the front, and sometimes the griffin flies along the winding path of the army, as if encouraging the back end to catch up. I'm amazed at the sheer number of animals that make up the barking, chirping, screeching, howling, hissing army.
The conmac slither in and out of the woods like shadows, darting amongst the trees at the edges of the army and appearing only long enough to remind us that they're still with us. Sometimes they're out of sight for so long that I start to wonder if they've gone, but then they appear once more. The message is clear—they're as reluctant to be part of this now as they were a thousand years ago.
We march onward, and as the zoo of an army trickles across the plains and toward the mountains, we leave a path of destruction in our wake. The grasses are trampled, the trees are stripped of their leaves from the herbivores, and skeletons line the edges of the path as the carnivores eat part of the army that marches toward the setting sun. When we fly overhead to supervise, it looks like a black stain moving over the countryside, and Kassam only clucks his tongue when I point out what sort of destruction he's causing. "They know it is my right to avenge myself against Riekki," is all he says. "They give their lives for me. Every tree, every rodent, every buck that dies in this fashion does so in my name, and they will be honored."
As I watch the conmac take down a bawling antelope, I don't know that I agree. This seems like…a lot. And Kassam isn't supposed to be a god of vengeance or of war. He's supposed to be a lover, not a fighter. I don't get it.
When we reach the Blood Glacier, though…I absolutely get it.
For some reason, I thought the glacier would be a “past tense” sort of thing. After all, Kassam is free and in my arms, and I thought it would just…disappear. But as we get closer to the mountains, a coppery, salty smell tinges the air and I see what looks like a dark blot against the horizon. As we get closer, it looks like a giant, dark red carpet spreading between the craggy rocks, and I realize what I'm looking at.
Oh god.
There's so much of it.
I'm staggered as the army approaches the Blood Glacier. I don't know what I expected, but not this. Not to see Kassam's frozen blood for as far as the eye can see. Not to smell the thick, awful reek of it hanging in the air, or to see animals feasting on the meltwater. The flies that buzz around it, or the fact that the grasses are dead the closer we approach.
It's enormous. And this all came from Kassam, who was abandoned, left bleeding and stuck between worlds.
It only takes half a day to cross it, but it feels like forever. As the wild army trudges over the groaning ice, the smell of it gags me, as does the sight of the blood staining the legs of the crossing animals. Kassam is utterly silent, and I touch him to let him know that I'm here, that I'm with him, that he's no longer trapped. It doesn't help his mood, though, and I don't blame him.
For the first time, I get it. I get why he's so furious at Riekki. All this because Kassam wouldn't marry her? She caused him a thousand years of misery all because he turned her down? It's because of her that he lost all his followers. It's because of her selfish, petty actions that the conmac were trapped just as much as Kassam was.
There's nothing I can say to him that will make this better. There's nothing I can say, nothing I can do that will make this pain go away for him. It doesn't matter that he's cursed with hedonism—some things are deeper than pleasure. So when we camp that night, and Kassam takes me in his arms and fucks me like a demon, I get it. I cling to him as I come, and I whisper only one thing in his ear.
"We're going to make her pay," I promise my husband.
With a growl, he comes inside me, and I hold him as he quakes with the force of his release. It doesn't matter that he ejaculates inside me. We're long past condoms, just like we're long past forgiveness.
We're in this until the bitter end.
35
It feels like I'm the only one in the army that has to sleep. Kassam doesn't, and the rest of the animals are a honking, braying, snarling mess. Because of that, and because we're always moving, I insist that we keep moving. We stop every now and then for bodily functions and for me to eat some fruit or vegetables that Kassam forages for me. When food is scarce for me as well as his army, he pulls on his magic and I end up with a nasty nosebleed and a migraine, but I bear them as stoically as I can. This is bigger than a headache, I remind myself.
But sleep is the tough one. I finally figure out how to cat-nap with my cheek pressed to Kassam's back, my hands tied around his waist so I don't slide off the back of the griffin. Fatigue makes it difficult for me to keep track of where we are, and after we pass the glacier, I lose any sense of where we're going. Between naps, I see the mountains receding and a thick, endless forest in the distance. Then we're closer to the forest, and when I wake again, we're deep in its branches. Sometime in the middle of the night, I rouse again and lift my head to look at our surroundings. The stars overhead are brilliant, but I see more lights in the distance. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm seeing a settlement at the edge of the horizon. "Is that…"
"The city," Kassam agrees. "It must be. Those are human lights."
"We'll be there soon, then?"
"Some time tomorrow. Rest for now." He pats my arm gently. "I have you."
The city, I realize. The city that Seth should be in. I don't know if I'm excited or a little scared to go face to face with him again. My injured arm throbs as I squeeze Kassam's sides. Holding tight to him makes me feel better, and we ride on through the night and onto the morning. As it grows light outside, I get a better look at the city we approach. There are farms scattered across the countryside, small and rough with tiny houses. The griffin that leads the army with us on his back walks regally along a rutted, wide dirt road that winds through the farmlands, leading toward the distant city atop a hill. From far away, I can see walls encircling the base of the broad hill, and farther up, a tighter set of walls around the city, protecting what look like low square buildings made of stone. We're still too far away to make out many of the features of the city, but I spot dark blobs moving around, so those must be people or domesticated animals.
"My lord Kassam!" cries out a reedy voice. I jerk, startled, and turn to see an elderly woman hobbling across fields, followed by a wide-eyed younger man that must be her son. The woman raises her arms at the sight of Kassam, a look of pure bliss on her face. Tears course down her lined face. "My lord! You have returned to us! I have always prayed to you. Always. You are not forgotten in Chandrilhar."
Kassam tenses under my hands and then nods at the woman. "I will remember."
She drops to her knees, her son following suit, and clasps her hands over her heart. "He has returned," she says, over and over again. "He has returned."
My skin prickles at the blissful look on her face. She's rapturous as she watches us move past, the mess of Kassam's howling, bleating wild army following behind us. "That was amazing."