Belly of the Beast by Warren Thomas (story books for 5 year olds txt) 📕

almost midnight when they reached Kestsax. A sentry challenged them from high atop the walls, but refused to open the gate until daylight showed that they really were who they claimed to be. They joined a growing group of soldiers, all survivors of the battle. Mostly, the other survivors were nobles and senior officers, and other mounted men and women. No one had arrived on foot. Tane was heartened by that, since he hadn’t noticed any mounted zombies before or during the battle.

            Try as he might, Tane couldn’t get any sleep. The second he closed his eyes – nightmares! They were the worse yet, with Dakar demanding Tane serve Him. Raven, Quinn, Armin, and Joelle were one by one killed by the terrible God, all the while demanding in a thunderous voice that Tane serve Him, worship Him. Then with a wave of Dakar’s hand, Tane’s murdered friends rose up and attacked him. Undead slaves, they savaged Tane with clawlike hands and rusty swords until he woke up.

            So Tane stood guard with Quinn, while the others slept.

Chapter 35

            The putrid stench of the nearby river and swamp fouled the air as Nizar picked his way through the forest. The lights of Kestsax could be seen at times. Also, the steady tread of feet filled the rainy, night-shrouded forest of refugees.

            Nizar knew the others he heard weren’t zombies. Mogens had stopped their uncontrolled rush after the fleeing army when night fell. He feared losing control of his command as much, or more, than losing the battle. Nizar had ignored the command to assemble, knowing he had to have Tane Kyleson in hand to avoid the altar, and Mogens’ bloody knife. But he knew the zombie army was close behind him, now arrayed in battle formations.

            Muttering a prayer, Nizar felt the dagger turn slightly in his cold-numbed hand. It was pointing the way to salvation for Nizar. Pointing the way to ultimate wealth and power. Pointing the way to Nizar’s personal vengeance on all, mortal and God alike, who had hurt him.

            Reaching the edge of the forest, with Kestsax spread out before him, Nizar paused to shed the gray robes of Dakar. He regretted giving them up, for the multi-layered woolen garments gave a blessed measure of warmth in this cold, dank land. Burying them under a pile of damp, half-rotten leaves, he took a careful bead on the spot the dagger was pointing at. That done, he slipped the dagger under his belt and set out. Soon, he noted all the men, women and children scattered about in huddled groups.

            Doomed, and they don’t even know it yet, he thought with a grin. The world is only so big, with no place to hide from a God.

            But what really heartened him wasn’t the refugees’ lack of real hope, but that they weren’t allowed into the city. That meant Tane Kyleson was also outside the city walls. Capturing him was immensely easier out here. And he wouldn’t have to concoct a plan to smuggle the swordsmith out of the besieged city.

            Pausing every so often, Nizar pulled the dagger and adjusted his course. As he neared the walls he found more and more refugees and battle survivors. He started keeping the dagger out all the time, so that he didn’t pass Tane in the dark and have to double back.

            The cold rain, which was growing steadily heavier, accompanied by fierce winds and crashing thunder, helped to keep others from moving about, thus giving Nizar cover to stalk his prey. Indeed, he suspected that Tane was as numbed by the cold rain as himself, barely coherent in his misery.

            Daybreak arrived, dim behind thick black clouds. Nizar was smiling, for the dagger was pointing at a pair of men staring at a fire under a crude blanket canopy.

            At last, Tane Kyleson!

Chapter 36

            Dawn arrived with the promise of more cold rain, hard-driven by the gale force winds of a winter storm. The dark wall of clouds loomed over them; it’s crashing thunder rattling wagons at times. If anything, it looked even more menacing than it did the day before.

            Tane cast baleful eyes on the gray city walls, knowing that warm, dry accommodations waited within. There really wasn’t any reason for him and his friends to spend the night in such cold misery.

            He noticed Quinn’s head turn, his tilted eyes narrowing. Tane looked out through the driving rain, trying to discern what had alarmed the half-elf. There was barely a movement to see, just a dark gray land of shadows.

            Then one by one, and in small clumps, he saw shuffling men, women and children emerge from the woodline. It only took seconds for the other refugees to realize the zombies had arrived. Shouts for the gates to be opened erupted from a thousand throats, with Tane adding his to the God-awful din. Helmeted heads began crowded the battlements, but there was no indication that the city’s defenders intended to let anyone inside.

            “Into the moat,” Quinn ordered, throwing Raven over his shoulder.

            The area around Tane was suddenly chaos. Men and women screamed and cried, running wildly in all directions, many dropping to their knees and begging the city’s defenders to save them.

            “What good will that do?” Tane said, wanting to run around the city instead, to get as much distance between him and the zombies as possible. The dark waters of the moat, blanketed with early morning mists, looked cold and formidable. “Maybe they’ll open the dock gates for us?”

            “No,” Armin said. “Quinn’s right. Swim over to the berm at the base of the walls. With the water between us and the zombies, we’ll stand a better chance of survival. Those craven pigs atop the walls might even drop us a rope or two.”

            After shucking his mail armor, Tane helped Quinn strip Raven of her cuirass and boots. Tane shoved Tasheba under his belt, knowing