Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1) by Arthur Stone (top 5 books to read TXT) 📕

morons, they should realize that something was amiss with the floating gallows. Myopia wasn’t common in Rock—they should be able to discern the bodies dangling off the crossbar.

A minute later, a small delegation emerged on the top of the path: Ash and a solitary guard, older and fatter than any I remembered seeing. Beko wasn’t kidding about the fort’s entire population leaving to harvest hornflower. The big man himself was coming, and essentially without reinforcements.

I waited for them to descend, then pointed again at the raft.

“Those are dead bodies.”

“And here we thought they were revelers,” Ash snapped without stopping, then turned to the guard. “Maddox, grab a fishing pole and get to Falcon’s Stone. Looks like the raft will either crash into it or pass right by. Try to intercept it. I’ll wait on the opposite side, to the right of the awning, in case it shifts direction.”

Rushing to keep up, I decided to intervene.

“No, the raft won’t come near the shore. There’s a stretch of underwater rocks that directs the current away. It’s heading right to where the big fish is splashing, see it? From there, it should crash into the base of the cliff. That’s the best spot to wait for it. If you can’t intercept it there, it’ll be gone.”

“Nonsense,” Maddox objected. “Falcon’s Stone is further into the river.”

“The boy knows the river,” Ash noted. “You go on to Falcon’s Stone, but I’ll set up at the base of the cliff, like he said. If the raft ends up floating past, he’s getting the lash as punishment. He badly needs it to reign in that loose tongue of his.”

Once again, initiative on my part was swiftly punished.

 

* * *

The raft worked out like a charm. Just as I had said it would. I had watched Blackriver day after day, and so could not help but notice the garbage carried downriver by the current. All pieces of trash, large and small, behaved in a predictable manner.

Ash snagged the raft with a wooden boat hook, pulling it towards the rocks before the current swept it under the massive vertical rock that served as the trading post’s foundation.

I pointed to the inscription adorning the crossbar. “‘All shall suffer, who come to the land of the Emperor of Pain.’ Looks to me like it’s written in blood.”

“You can read?” Ash narrowed his eyes.

“Nah, I just guessed what it said, because of the blood.”

“You certainly know how to beat around the bush. It’s distracting. Cut it out. Tell no one about anything you’ve seen here, understand?”

I nodded silently, but could not resist pressing. “What’s in their mouths?”

“What do you mean?”

I pointed at the nearest body. “They look gagged somehow, and something is jutting out of their mouths. I doubt it’s their tongues.”

Ash quietly moved to the raft, grabbed the support bar holding up the morbid crossbar with one hand and unsheathed his dagger with the other. Then, he used his blade to force the corpse’s mouth open. A revolting mass fell out, like a lump of insects held together by sappy mucus.

That instant, Maddox began to vomit and moan. “Chaos take me, what’s that in his mouth?”

Ash crouched down and examined the slimeball. His voice betrayed no passion. “They stuffed his mouth full of hornflowers.”

“That one on the right looks like Savi,” Max said tremulously. “I saw his hand all crooked like that, back when he was felling trees near Greenridge last year. He was saving up some money for a healer. Told me his thumb had trouble obeying him and that his wrist was in agony. Now, at least, the agony is gone...”

“He and Gamus set out just the day before yesterday,” Ash ruminated.

Maddox nodded. “Gamus told everyone that he knew where the best hornflower fields were located. And they told him not to be foolish. ‘Don’t go far from the water’s edge,’ they said, ‘especially not overnight.’ Gamus never was one to take advice. This might be him. But it’s too hard to tell for sure.”

“Whoever did this is still nearby,” I added, “and they did this so we would find them, in the clear of day.”

“What do you mean?” Ash asked without turning.

“These men have been dead for a long time now. Ten hours or more. Rigor mortis has set in. Wherever they were strung up like this, their bodies were still fresh. The killers stuffed flowers in their mouths and tied their jaws shut with something. Once the rigor mortis arrived, that something was removed. I don’t know why. Look, you can see the marks of the ropes here. Without them, their jaws wouldn’t be so tightly closed. Then, the raft was carefully pushed so that it would hit exactly this spot. Whoever did this knows this river well. They also knew, then, that they could not send the raft on its journey from too far away. So they pushed it off from somewhere close. There are no signs here of axes or saws; the raft is made of branches bound together. The kind of construction that doesn’t make much noise. I bet a quick search of the left bank would discover the place they build it.”

“Just speculation,” Ash murmured, “but it’s good thinking. Where did you learn to read?”

“Down south. I had a decent family.”

“You were no pauper, I can see that. But listen: not a word about any of this to anyone.”

“I understand. But all of our people are over there, along the river. Including Beko. They have no idea that—”

“They’ll find out soon enough, kid. This timing is quite unfortunate.”

“You’re telling me,” Maddox replied. “Hornflower season has just arrived. Our harvesters won’t be able to go anywhere without armed escort.”

“Keep an eye on the raft. I’m heading back up, and I’ll send Zeir your way, with burlap. Take the