Valley of the Dead by Kim Paffenroth Page B

with their present victim.”
    Adam nodded. “Exactly. They are both more and less human than we are, more and less evil. They cannot kill for pleasure, or honor, or even hate. If only all men were as they are, in this one respect. But they are so full of hunger, so completely full of emptiness, they cannot think of anything else – not even self-preservation. And their emptiness will never be full. They will never stop on their own.”
    “I understand,” Dante said. “But if it would not be considered a kind of ingratitude, I would ask not to have to kill a child again, since I already helped kill two yesterday.”
    “That is not ingratitude, my son. That is decency,” Adam said, and he and Radovan moved to either side, to stand behind the two children as Dante stepped forward and stood behind the woman.
    They left the woman and the two boys slumped forward on the body they had been desecrating, though Dante knew the three who had been eating were far more tainted and defiled than the one they had eaten. But now at least all four of them were finally and truly dead, and death was sometimes a blessing, as Brother Adam’s strange theology would have it.
    After Dante got on his horse and they moved forward, Bogdana leaned over and touched his shoulder. He could not bear to look at her, to sully her beauty by gazing on it with the same eyes that had just beheld such monstrous, revolting things. He only let himself feel her presence and sympathy through her light touch, as he looked down at the ugly, nearly black mud sucking at the horses’ hooves.

Chapter 15

    Howl the rain maketh them like unto dogs;
    One side they make a shelter for the other;
    Oft turn themselves the wretched reprobates.
    Dante, Inferno , 6.19-21

    As they approached the town walls, they could see that the gates were open. Not only open, they also seemed to be abandoned. The entrance to the town was as desolate as the fields through which they had been riding. They stopped just outside the gates to survey the situation.
    “Go through?” Radovan asked.
    “It’d save us time,” Adam said. “Perhaps the people have left already.” Just then, from somewhere inside the town they heard a cheer, followed by what sounded like singing, though it was too far away to make out clearly. “Well, then there are still people here. We need to warn them. Clearly if they’re singing, with their gate open and unguarded, they must not know what’s going on.”
    They proceeded through the gate, past deserted houses and shops. Everything was in a violent disarray, with carts spilled over in the street, and various items – tools, implements, broken pottery, and glass – scattered on the ground. There were some dark brown splotches and burn marks on the ground and on many of the walls. Some of the windows were smashed, but most were boarded up. Dante caught the metallic scent of blood, and the heavy, stinging, malignant smell of smoldering embers that had been left to fester. He saw nothing move, however, and no fires raging or blood flowing, so they kept moving forward.
    The cheering sound returned, followed by laughter, then the indistinct murmuring of a crowd. All of them flinched and bristled at the sound of an animal roaring in pain or rage, but this was drowned out by laughter, so they kept going.
    They came out into a more open area, where they finally saw the crowd they had heard. Several dozen men were there, gathered around long tables. There were no women or children in sight. Most of the men were standing, though several were lolling on the ground; some of the prone figures appeared immobile. There were many barrels on the tables, along with various foods, and nearby three boars were spitted over low fires. Here the smells were slightly more savory than what had greeted Dante so far in this town. Although it was still impossible for him to consider food after what he’d just seen, even he could appreciate the sweet but heavy aroma coming from the