The Forgotten God

Chapter 19

Am-Heh kept to his word and, as the sun started to sink into its wearing bed, he entered the stone courtyard that housed the dogs overnight.

The cobblestones were delightfully chill against his bare feet and the high walls gave shelter from both heat and wind should it ever blight the realm.

A slim mist rose up from behind, the mighty structure built to hide the lakes that were beyond them. Hidden from view, they were not erased from the ear or other senses. The dull scent of brimstone flowed like a dying river about them and the hiss as the flames fought each other was often heard.

The dogs were a fine sight. Elegant and athletic, their large upright ears heard every minute sound about them. They romped playfully, delighting in each other's company and few rounded stones that had been placed for their amusement.

Eight pairs of amber eyes turned on Ishaq as he slipped through the gate, looking him up and down inquisitively. The nearest moved over, leaning to sniff his hand. The wag of his tail seemed to settle the others, not to mention Ishaq himself who tentatively stroked the smooth tan head.

Finally, he smiled. At ease with the animals who seemed amiable enough, and certainly not the hellhounds told in legends. If Am-Heh had any, they were certainly not here.

"These are the hunting dogs," the prim female attending him stated crisply. Inside she was pleased to be done with this job, cleaning up after them was not something she revelled in. "The larger two wander the lake area, you'll have little to do with those ones."

"What kind of dogs are they?" Ishaq asked, happily greeting the others who, not willing to be left out, had trotted over.

The woman shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is they are the ones sent to bring back the larger beasts to be butchered to their food. These ones occasionally get given the excess birds or smaller prey they help hunt down but they can't bring down anything bigger on their own."

As if her words had been eavesdropped from beyond the gate, a low mournful howl permeated the air. Rich, guttural and Ishaq could tell it was from the lungs of a great beast. He couldn't suppress the shudder as the visions ran amok in his mind again.

Raising an eyebrow, the woman gave a snort of amusement. "As I said, it's unlikely you will deal with those. The master himself tends to them or they fend for themselves."

"I am glad to hear it."

The other dogs had paid no heed to the call from behind the wall. It had not been meant for them and, unlike the human warders, they had no fear of them. They were, after all, the bringer of the food they ate and also occasional hunting companions. When bigger prey was required, they lessened the risk of injury and together they made a formidable team that the mortal king himself would envy.

"Their meat is prepared daily and kept in the kitchen," the woman said as she ushered him back inside. "Normally it's already cut but when the servants are busy then you will have to do it yourself. All you need do is debone it; they eat the innards."

Ishaq groaned inwardly. He was no stranger to preparing meat or fish, doing so to help his mother when she was occupied with other chores, but it was never a job he relished. The smell of blood and the cold, viscid feel of the flesh was something he could never get used to and would often wonder how it smelled and tasted so enjoyable after being cooked.

The dogs watched as they left with bright, soulful eyes and Ishaq felt they laughing behind his back, at the nervous behaviour and naivety about them. He just hoped they wouldn't take advantage of it. The livestock his former neighbours owned always seemed to, knowing when one was not used to handling them and were always as awkward as they could be.