44 Chapter 42 (1/2)
The doing is the easy part. It's the deciding to do that is difficult. I most regret the decisions never made.
—HOFFNUNGSLOS
Night fell fast and Bedeckt led Launisch and the other two horses away from the road and into the shelter of the trees. Alone, he didn't want to run into the kind of trouble often found wandering roads such as this. With his two deranged friends dead, he had no fear of albtraum, nightmares of the insane given flesh. But he'd be easy pickings for the wandering gangs of thieves who haunted dark roads.
Tying the horses to a nearby tree, he set about lighting a small fire.
Once it got going, he sat at the fire, warming his feet. He ate well. With Wichtig and Stehlen gone, Bedeckt had more food than he could possibly eat. Come tomorrow, he'd carry what he could and leave the rest to the scavengers.
It was quiet. No one was bickering.
It was also lonely. He'd traveled with the two cretins for years. Their constant arguing had been a background hum he'd become accustomed to. G.o.ds d.a.m.ned if he didn't miss it.
Bedeckt climbed into his sleeping roll and stared into the twisting flames of the fire.
He'd see Wichtig and Stehlen again, no doubt.
Those whom you slay shall serve you in the Afterdeath: the Warrior's Credo. Stehlen would be waiting, but he couldn't imagine her in a role of servitude. She'll find some way to kill me. And if she couldn't, she'd find some way of making him wish she'd killed him.
”Wake up, you little s.h.i.+te.”
”What?” Bedeckt opened a crusty eye. Had he fallen asleep? He could have sworn he just heard a voice, one he recognized from—
”You're still a lazy s.h.i.+te. You haven't changed. Useless c.u.n.t.”
Bedeckt sat up. There, across the fire, sat his father.
”I've killed you once, old man. I'd happily do it again.”
The old b.a.s.t.a.r.d grunted a dismissal. He didn't look as huge and scary as Bedeckt remembered. The old man sat hunched forward, his eyes rimmed red with exhaustion, his back bent with an age he'd never lived to see. This was his father as he would have looked had Bedeckt not slain him all those decades ago.
The old man waved a hand as if shus.h.i.+ng him and prodded at the dying fire with a stick. ”I'm not here to beat you—much as you deserve it. I'm here to talk.”
Bedeckt watched the old man warily. ”Begone, albtraum.”
”Ah, still clinging to your much-vaunted sanity, I see. Well, here I sit. Perhaps you aren't as sane as you think.”
”I am sane,” growled Bedeckt.
”Or perhaps you are too sane, or believe in your sanity a little too strongly. Such belief, my son, would make anyone crazy.”
”I'm not your son.” Bedeckt scowled at the dream spirit. ”Nothing you say will make me doubt my sanity.”
”My point exactly.”
”My father was never this smart.”
The albtraum waved away his words. ”This isn't about you. This isn't about your father.”
”What then? Will you tell me I feel guilty for killing Stehlen? She left me no choice.”
His father spat into the fire, much as Stehlen would have done. ”Nice try, spirit.”
”It's the boy.”
”Morgen?” Bedeckt asked, surprised. ”What do you know of him?”
”He will die soon.”
Bedeckt's chest tightened. The boy had saved his life. ”Tell me something I didn't know.”
”You and you alone pursue him with no thoughts of killing him to your own ends.”
”Not exactly true,” Bedeckt pointed out.
”Wichtig manipulated the boy from the beginning, once he understood his significance. Even Stehlen, who loved you enough to follow you to the very ends of the world, planned to kill him.”
Bedeckt s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably. ”Stehlen didn't love—”
”She loved you so much it blinded her to the threat you were.”
”Horse s.h.i.+te.”
”Really?” The albtraum snorted derisively. ”You think you could have beaten her, unarmed? Even armed, you were never her match.” The albtraum poked again at the fire, rolling a log into the reddest embers. ”She had a knife in her hand the entire time you sat near her. She could have killed you in an instant.”
”Horse s.h.i.+te.” But his words lacked power.
”Even as she tried to kill the boy, she never believed that you would kill her. She trusted you. Totally.”
”Horse—”
”s.h.i.+te,” finished the albtraum, again gesturing as if it didn't care what Bedeckt thought. This wasn't right; the creatures were supposed to attack, to feed off their victim's fears and l.u.s.ts and dreams. This creature succeeded only in making him uncomfortable. What kind of nightmare feeds off discomfort?
”Morgen has fallen into the clutches of a powerful Gefahrgeist,” said the albtraum. ”A Slaver of the worst order.”
A Slaver? The boy was beyond reach, then. Nothing Bedeckt could do would save him now. He watched his plans sink away into the depths of the foulest s.h.i.+te-hole.
Wichtig and Stehlen, dead for nothing. Everything he'd been through and he was worse off now than when this began. Typical.
He ran a hand over his weary eyes. ”Why would I care?” Bedeckt asked the albtraum. ”I'm tired. Go stick pigs.”
”You are old,” said the albtraum. ”You are slowing down. On this path you will die sooner rather than later. What then? Paradise is not for men like you. All those you wronged, all those you killed and damaged; all await you in the next world. You are a man without redeeming features. You will have no allies in the next world.”
Bedeckt laughed, a snort of derision. ”I have none in this world.”
”Stehlen loved and wors.h.i.+ped you.”
”She tried to kill me.”
”You pushed her until she had no choice. Wichtig saw you as a father. He thought you his only friend.”
”Wichtig was a manipulative fool.”
”True,” agreed the albtraum, poking again at the fire. ”He tried to use you. But only to better himself. Yes, he was a fool for hoping you might find something worth liking in him when he saw nothing. He loathed himself and clothed it in bravado. All he ever wanted was to impress you, hear a kind word. He got nothing. He and Stehlen await you in the next life.”
”I'll deal with them when I get there.”
”No doubt. You'll probably, having learned nothing, kill them both. But it doesn't have to be this way.”
”Ah, I can be redeemed?” Bedeckt asked sarcastically. ”My soul can be saved so I may frolic among fields of virgins in the next life?”
”Morgen saved your life. You owe him.”
”s.h.i.+te on my debts.”
Again the albtraum ignored his words. ”The worst of what trauma humanity has to offer awaits Morgen. If the Slaver has his way, the child will Ascend in such a damaged state he will absolutely wors.h.i.+p the one who caused him so much pain. And the beliefs of G.o.ds are powerful things.”
”I don't care. I'm done.”
”Save the child and—”
”Redeem myself?” Bedeckt barked a harsh laugh and found himself sitting alone in the dark, the fire long since gone out.
He sat blinking at the ashes. What had Morgen said about heading east? Bedeckt couldn't remember.
”s.h.i.+te and h.e.l.lfires.”
Redemption. What a laughable concept. When he looked back over his life, he couldn't see where he had first stepped off the righteous path. More important, had he even ever laid a single foot on that path?
Was this destiny? Was he doomed to a h.e.l.lish Afterdeath of slain friends and lovers.