The Lost War, Karl Gallagher [recommended reading txt] 📗

“No. New research. I’ve figured out what the orcs were doing when they attacked you. It’s not dominance behavior. It’s reproductive.”

She explained the lifecycle. Gametes meeting inside the host, embryos growing into cannibalistic worms, then an immature orc. Belatedly she realized this would have been a good time to use that med school workshop on how to tell patients they have terminal cancer. The only part she remembered now was, ‘Put a box of tissues where the patient can reach it’.

The whole camp had been sneezing into rags or leaves for months now.

“Well . . . fuck,” said Strongarm. “I kept hoping this would be like a tapeworm or something. Y’know, something I could live with.”

“I’m sorry, it’s worse than that.”

“Shit.”

She didn’t have anything better to say.

He took a deep breath. Forced a smile on his face. “We can keep doing the treatments, right?”

“Absolutely. I mean to beat those motherfuckers.” She gave him a matching smile.

“Good. Thank you. Well, thanks for the news. I have to get back to work.” Strongarm popped up and darted out of the tent.

***

Dinner was almost ready when they heard the herald’s cry.

“All subjects are invited to Court to hear His Majesty’s proclamation!”

Master Sweetbread and Mistress Tightseam exchanged glances. Neither had heard of a new law in the works. He said, “One of you go listen. Let the rest of us know what it’s about.”

“We’ll go,” said Goldenrod. She led Newman down the lane.

About a quarter of the camp was gathered before the Court Pavilion. The three thrones were filled. The full set of ladies in waiting and courtiers stood about.

King Estoc stood, reading chalked notes off a slate. “Be it known to all. The creatures known as orcs cannot co-exist with us. They perceive humans like deer: solely as food or hosts for their young.”

That caused a stir among those who hadn’t heard Lady Burnout’s discovery. The king didn’t pause.

“We call upon all Our subjects to kill orcs at every opportunity. None shall be spared because of their age or condition. Wounded must be finished off. Those fleeing must be caught and killed when practical.”

Sounds of shock.

“All authorized fighters are commanded to search out and kill orcs as their other duties permit. Those wishing to join them see Count Dirk for training.”

King Estoc resumed his throne. A herald announced that court was over. Some attendees bolted to spread the news. Others clustered in buzzing knots.

Goldenrod and Newman walked back in silence.

Master Sweetbread greeted them with, “What’s the news?”

“Genocide,” answered Newman.

***

Strongarm hastily slapped the tent flap closed behind him as he came in, clearly hoping no one saw him entering the chiurgeon’s tent.

“Thanks for coming,” said Lady Burnout. She waved him to the examining table.

He lay down on his back. “Where’s Elderberry?”

“She’s out doing some rumor control.”

Burnout gathered together the gear for the treatment.

“What kind of rumors?”

“Some people noticed you and her are disappearing from sight at the same time. The two of you having an affair would explain why you’re not paying attention to Foxglove any more. Elderberry is going to be visible while you’re missing and hopefully divert the gossips to something else.”

“What? That’s crazy.”

“Uh-huh. Turn over.”

Strongarm’s face twisted up. “Do we have to do it this way?”

“You really don’t want to take this mixture orally.”

He complied without grace, shoving his pants down to his knees. His hands gripped the edges of the cushioned table.

She took out a crock of venison grease but didn’t apply it. “Okay. Relax. Deep breaths. Peaceful thoughts. Waves on the beach.”

The first time she’d asked him to visualize a peaceful forest, which had been counterproductive.

As his muscles unclenched Burnout applied the grease. “Keep relaxing. This will be tedious but it should help.”

Strongarm calmed enough to let her insert the tube. When the fluid flowed in she draped a couple of blankets over him. The stuff wasn’t cold, but putting room temperature liquid in his body core was enough to produce shivers.

“Why are people telling rumors about me?” asked Strongarm. “I haven’t been doing anything.”

Lady Burnout was happy to divert his mind.

“That’s just it. You’re not doing anything. Dropped Foxglove. Not chasing anyone else. That’s so unusual for you people are trying to figure out what you’re really up to.”

“I didn’t drop her,” he said defensively.

“That’s what she’s calling it. You two were intense for a while. Now, nothing. Or so I hear.”

“Eh.” He shifted on the table, not enough to dislodge the tube. “How much are you putting in me?”

“Almost done. Keep relaxing.”

“I don’t want to avoid her . . . but if we were hugging and she felt a parasite wiggling under my skin? I couldn’t deal with her reaction.”

“You could tell her.”

There weren’t any hints of Strongarm’s infection on the grapevine. Burnout was surprised no one had figured it out. Or maybe the ones who’d figured it out were creating all those other rumors for additional security.

“I can’t. God. No, there’s no way I could say it. She’d be so disgusted. Or worried about the thing bursting out of my skin at her.”

Lady Burnout thought he was more worried about that than anyone else could be. He’d confessed nightmares about the parasites tearing their way out of him the way they had Belladonna.

She’d given up trying to reassure him. They hadn’t had even half the time needed to fully develop. He had two months left. Though the damage from the parasites feeding on him might be unsurvivable before that.

She said only, “If you gave her a chance you might get a pleasant surprise.”

The man shook his head. After a pause he asked, “So who else are rumors connecting me with?”

“Me.” Oops. She shouldn’t have let amusement show in