Flesh Read online

  “You kidding?” Raf said. “Id just as soon let loose a mad elk! I’m a damn good man, baby, but I wouldn’t want to tangle with you—that is—not in combat. No, you’ll stay tied up.”

  The party set out at a fast pace. Two scouts ran ahead to make sure they didn’t fall into ambush. When they came to the Shawangunk Mountains, they approached the pass cautiously, hiding until the scouts gave the go-ahead signal. At midnight the party bedded down behind a high rocky ridge.

  Stagg tried to talk to Mary Casey to raise her morale. She was beginning to look very fatigued. Every time she started to lag, she was struck and cursed. Abner was especially hard on her; he seemed to hate her.

  The evening of the third day, they forded the Delaware River at a shallow place. They slept, rose at dawn, and pushed on. By eight o’clock in the morning, the raiders made a triumphal entry into the small frontier town of High Queen.

  High Queen had a population of about fifty, huddled in cubical stone buildings surrounded by a twenty-five foot high stone and cement wall. Each building was windowless on the street side, and its entranceways were set deep within the walls. The windows were on the inside walls, facing the court.

  The houses had no front yards, since they were set flush with the street. However, they were separated by vacant weed-grown lots on which goats grazed, chickens pecked, and dirty, naked children played.

  The crowd that greeted the raiders was composed mainly of men; the few women present soon left at the orders of their husbands. The women were veiled and wore robes that concealed the body from shoulder to ground. Evidently women held an inferior position in Pants-Elf, despite the fact that the only idol in the town was a granite statue of the Great White Mother.

  Later, Stagg found out that the Pants-Elf worshiped Columbia, but that the Deecee regarded them as belonging to a heretical sect. In the theology of the Pants-Elf, every woman was a living incarnation of Columbia and therefore a sacred vessel of motherhood. But the men of Pants-Elf knew also that the flesh was weak. They made sure that their women had no chance to dirty their purity.

  They were to be good servants and good mothers, but that was all; therefore, they were to be sealed from view as much as possible and also sealed from temptation. The males had sexual intercourse with their wives only to have children, and as little other type of intercourse, social and familial, as possible. They were polygamous—on the theory that polygamy was an excellent institution for repopulating a sparsely settled country.

  The women, shut off from men and confined to each other’s company, often became Lesbians. They were even encouraged by the males to become so; but they went to bed with the men at least three times a week. This was enjoined on husband and wife as a sacred duty, distasteful as it might be to either or both. The result was almost perpetual pregnancy.

  This was a state which the man desired. According to this heretical sect, a pregnant woman was ritually unclean. She was not to be touched, except by other unclean women or priests.

  The prisoners were shut within one of the larger stone buildings. Women came to bring them food, but first Stagg was forced to put on kilts so he wouldn’t shock the women. The raiders and townsmen then celebrated by getting very drunk.

  At about nine at night, they burst into the cell and took Stagg, Mary Casey and the priestesses to the town square. Here stood the statue of Columbia, and around her were a circle of woodpiles. From the center of each pile rose a stake.

  A priestess was bound to each stake.

  Stagg and Mary were not tied to a stake, but they were forced to stand and watch.

  “It is necessary to purify these evil witches through fire,” Raf said. “That is why we brought along those young women. We felt sorry for them. You see, those we killed with the sword are forever lost, doomed souls that will wander through eternity. But these will be purified through fire. They will go to the land of happy souls.

  “It is too bad,” he added, “that High Queen doesn’t have any sacred bears, because then we’d feed the wretches to the bears. Bears are just as much instruments of salvation as fire, you know.

  “You needn’t worry about anything happening to you here. We wouldn’t waste you on this hick town. You’re to go to Pheelee, where the government will take the responsibility for you.”

  “Pheelee? Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love?” Stagg said with the last attempt at humor he made that night.

  The fires were touched off, and the purifying ritual begun.

  Stagg watched for a moment, then closed his eyes. Fortunately, he couldn’t hear the women screaming, because they were gagged. The priestesses who were burned had the habit of calling down curses upon the Pants-Elf; the gags were to prevent this.

  The stench of burning flesh could not be shut out. Stagg and Mary both became sick—and then had to endure the amused laughter of their captors.

  Finally, the fires went out and the two prisoners were marched back to the cell. Mary was held while two men stripped her, locked an iron chastity belt around her and then put a kilt on over it.

  Stagg protested; the men looked at him in amazement.

  “What?” Raf said. “Leave her open to temptation? Allow the pure vessel of Columbia to be defiled? You must be mad! Inasmuch as she will be left alone with you, and you’re a Horned King, the result would be inevitable. And—knowing your endurance—probably fatal for her. You should thank us for this. You know what you would do!”

  “Unless you feed me more than you have,” Stagg said, “I could not do anything. I’m weak from starvation.”

  Stagg did not want to eat, in one sense. His meager diet had considerably diminished the action of the antlers. He still suffered from a drive that was embarrassingly evident and had been the object of numerous amused and admiring comments from his captors; but it was almost nothing compared to the satyriasis that had possessed him in Deecee.

  Now he was afraid that, if he ate, he would attack Mary Casey—chastity belt or no chastity belt. But he was also afraid that if he didn’t eat he’d be dead by morning.

  Perhaps, he thought, he could eat enough to feed his body and antlers but not enough so the compulsion would become uncontrollable.

  “Why don’t you put me in another room if you’re so sure I’ll attack her?” he said.

  Raf looked amazed. But he overdid it, and Stagg knew that Raf had been maneuvering him into making just such a suggestion.

  “Of course! I’m so tired, I’m stupid,” Raf said. “We’ll lock you up in another room.”

  The other room was located in the same building, across the inner court. From his window Stagg could see the window of Mary’s room. Although she had no light of her own, the moon cast beams into the court. They glimmered palely upon her face, pressed against the iron bars.

  Stagg waited for twenty minutes; then the expected sound came, a key inserted into the lock of the iron door.

  The door swung open with the creak of unoiled hinges. Abner entered with a huge tray. He set it down on the table and told the guard he’d call him when he wanted him. The guard opened his mouth to object, but, seeing Abner’s glare, he withdrew. He was a local and therefore awed by this Philadelphia raider.

  “See, Horneycums?” said Abner. “Look at all the nice food for you! Don’t you think you owe me something for this?”

  “I certainly do,” Stagg said. He would have gone along with almost anything for the sake of a meal. “You’ve got more than enough. But in case I want more later, could you get it easily?”

  “You bet. The kitchen is just down the hall. The woman has gone back to her quarters, but I’d be delighted to do a woman’s work for you. How about a kiss to show your gratitude?”

  “I couldn’t put anything into it until I eat,” Stagg replied, forcing himself to smile at Abner. “Then we’ll see.”

  “Don’t be coy, Horneycums,” Abner said. “And please, pretty please, hurry up and eat. We don’t have too much time. I think that big bitch Raf is planning to come
here tonight. And I’m nervous, too, about my buddy, Luke. If he knew I was here alone with you... !”

  “I can’t eat with my hands tied behind my back.”

  “I don’t know,” Abner said, hesitatingly. “You’re so big and strong. You could tear me apart with your bare hands—such huge hands, too.”

  “I’d be stupid to do that,” Stagg said. “Then I’d have nobody to sneak me food. I’d starve.”

  “That’s right. Besides, you wouldn’t hurt little old me, would you? I’m so small and helpless. And you do like me, just a little, don’t you? You didn’t mean what you said on the trail, did you?”

  “Of course not,” Stagg said, munching on cold ham, bread and butter, and pickles. “I just said that so your buddy Luke wouldn’t get any ideas about us.”

  “You’re not only devastatingly handsome, you’re clever, too,” Abner said. He was panting slightly. “Do you feel strong enough, now?”

  Stagg was about to say that he had to eat everything in sight before he would get his strength back, but thought better of the remark. He did not have to say anything, because there was a commotion just outside the door. He put his ear against the iron to hear.

  “It’s your buddy, Luke. He’s telling the guard he knows you’re in here with me, and he’s demanding that he be let in.”

  Abner turned pale. “Oh, Mother! He’ll kill me and you, too! He’s such a jealous bitch!”

  “Call him in. I’ll take care of him. I won’t kill him; just rough him up a bit. Let him know how things are between you and me.”

  Abner squealed with delight. “That would be divine!”

  He squeezed Stagg’s arm, and rolled his eyes upward with ecstasy. “Mother, what biceps! So big and hard!”

  Stagg beat on the door with his fist and called to the guard. “Abner says it’s all right to let him in!”

  “Yes,” Abner said behind him. “It’s perfectly all right. Let Luke in.”

  He kissed Stagg on the back of the neck. “I can just see the expression on his face when you tell him about us. I’ve been getting pretty tired of his jealous moods, anyway.”

  The door squeaked open. Luke rushed in, sword in hand. The guard slammed the door shut behind Luke, and the three were locked in.

  Stagg wasted no time. He chopped down with the edge of his palm against Luke’s neck. Luke fell, and the sword clanged as it hit the stone floor.

  Abner gave a little shriek. Then he opened his mouth for a scream as he saw Stagg bound at him. Before he could give vent to it, he, too, fell on the floor.

  His head lay at a grotesque angle. Stagg had hit him so hard with his fist that he’d broken his neck.

  Stagg dragged the bodies to one side so they wouldn’t be visible from the doorway. He took Luke’s sword and with one hard swing cut off Luke’s head.

  Then he rapped on the door and called in what he hoped was a passable imitation of Abner’s voice, “Guard! Come in here and make Luke quit abusing the prisoner!”

  The key was turned, and the guard stepped inside. He had his sword in hand, but Stagg struck from behind the door. The head of the guard rolled a foot from his body, the open neck gushing a stream of blood.

  Stagg put the guard’s knife in his belt and stepped out into the hall, which was narrow and dimly lit by a torch at the far end. He took a chance that the kitchen was at the far end and walked down to it. The door opened onto a large room well stocked with food. He found a cloth sack and filled it with food and several bottles of wine. Then he went back into the hall.

  At the same time, Raf opened the door to the hall and stepped inside.

  His manner was furtive, and it was probably his nervousness that made him not notice the guard was gone. He was unarmed except for a knife in a scabbard at his belt.

  Stagg ran down the hall toward him. Raf looked up and saw the horned man bearing down on him, a lifted bloody sword in one hand, the other holding a large sack slung over his shoulder.

  Raf turned and tried to get out of the door. The blade cut all the way through his neck.

  Stagg stepped over the corpse, still spouting blood, and went out into the court. There he found two men sleeping on the pavement. Like most of the men in High Queen that night, they had passed out. Stagg did not care to take a chance on their barring his way later, and besides he wanted to kill every Pants-Elf he came across. He gave two quick strokes across their necks and went on.

  He crossed the court and entered another hall, exactly like the one he had left. There was a guard posted outside the door of Mary’s room, a bottle tilted to his lips.

  He did not see Stagg until Stagg was almost on him. For a second, he was too paralyzed with astonishment to make a move. It was all the time Stagg needed. He threw the sword, point foremost.

  The point struck the guard exactly in the “O” of the Mother tattooed on his bare chest. The guard staggered backward with the impact, his hand clutching the blade. Strangely, his other hand did not drop the bottle.

  The point had not gone in deeply, but Stagg dropped his sack, leaped after the sword, seized it and pushed hard on the hilt. The blade went all the way through the breastbone and deep into the organ beneath.

  Mary Casey almost fainted when the door opened and the horned and bloody man stepped inside. Then she gasped. “Peter Stagg! How... ?”

  “Later!” he said. “No time to talk!”

  Together they ran from the shadow of one building to another until they reached the wall and high gate through which they had entered the town. There were two guards posted at the foot of the gate, and two men in small towers above it.

  Fortunately, all four were sleeping off their drunk. Stagg had no trouble in plunging his knife into the throats of the two men on the ground. Then he walked softly up the steps leading to the towers and treated the two there the same way. He did not have any trouble in withdrawing the huge bolt of oak that held the two gates together.

  They went back by the path on which they had come. They trotted a hundred steps, walked a hundred, trotted a hundred, walked a hundred.

  They came to the Delaware and crossed on the same shallow ford. Mary asked for rest, but Stagg said they’d have to push on.

  “When the town wakes up and finds all those headless corpses, they’ll be hot on our trail. They won’t stop till they find us, unless we can reach Deecee territory before they do. And then we’ll have to watch out for the Deecee, too. We’re going to try to get to Caseyland.”

  The time came when they had to slow down to a walk; Mary couldn’t keep up the pace. By nine in the morning, she sat down.

  “I can’t go another step unless I get some sleep first.”

  They found a hollow about a hundred meters from the path. Here Mary fell asleep at once. Stagg ate and drank first and then he lay down to sleep also. He would have liked to stay on guard, but he knew that he had to have rest to continue in a few hours. He needed his strength because he might have to carry Mary.

  He woke before Mary did, and he ate again.

  When she opened her eyes a few minutes later, she saw Stagg bending over her.

  “What are you doing?”

  He said, “Shut up. I’m trying to get your chastity belt off.”

  12

  The face of Nephi Sarvant was an index to his character. It looked in profile like a nutcracker or the curved jaws of a pair of pliers. He was faithful to his face; once he fastened down upon something, he would not let go.

  Having left Whitrow’s house, he swore that he would never set foot in a place where such iniquity thrived. He swore also to dedicate his life, if need be, to bringing the Truth to the idolatrous heathen.

  He walked the five kilometers to the House of Lost Souls and spent a night of uneasy sleep there. Shortly after dawn, he left the house. Though it was so early, the street was alive with wagons piled with freight, sailors, merchantmen, children, women marketing. He looked into several restaurants, found them too dirty, and decided to make his breakfast on fruit from
a street stand. He talked with the fruit-merchant about his chances for getting a job and was told that there was an opening for a janitor at the temple of the goddess Gotew. The merchant knew this because his brother-in-law had been fired from the job the previous evening.

  “It doesn’t pay much but you get your board and room. And there are other compensations, provided you are a man who has fathered many children,” the merchant said. He winked at Sarvant. “My brother-in-law was fired because he neglected his sweeping and scrubbing for the other advantages.”

  Sarvant didn’t ask what he meant. He got directions for getting to the temple and left.

  This job, if he secured it, would be an excellent post for observation of the Deecee religion. And it would afford a first-rate battleground for proselytizing. Oh, it would be dangerous, but what missionary worthy of his faith ever considered that a drawback?

  The directions were complicated; Sarvant lost his way. He found himself far into a wealthy residential district, with no one to ask directions from except a few people who rode by in carriages or on deerback. These did not look as if they would stop to talk to a pedestrian, a man of the lower classes.

  He decided to go back to the dock area and start over. He had not gone a block before he saw a woman who had just left a large house. She was dressed strangely, covered from head to foot with a hooded robe. At first, he thought she must be a servant; he knew now that an aristocrat never walked when she could ride. On approaching her, he saw that the robe was of too fine a material to belong to one of the lower class.

  He followed her for several blocks before he took a chance of offending her by speaking to her. Finally, he called to her, “Lady, may I humbly ask a question?”

  She turned and looked haughtily at him. She was a tall woman of about twenty-two with a face that would have been beautiful if it had been less sharp. Her large eyes were a deep blue, and her hair, where it was not hidden by the hood, was rich yellow.

  Sarvant repeated his question, and she nodded her head. He then asked her directions to the Temple of Gotew.