Chapter 259 - Blood Gods in Exile part 4

I was only faintly aware when Bhorg lifted me from beside the river. I know I roused myself enough to protest, "Take… Zenzele first." The giant laughed gently and said that he already had, and I allowed myself to lapse back into unconsciousness like a stone dropped into a black pit. I remember the big man lying me down beside Zenzele, treating me gently, as if I were a child. He had carried the two of us into a cave, a nice dry cave with a floor of powdery sand. I rolled over and put my arm protectively around my love, and then the darkness swallowed me again.

When I awoke next, it was to the smell of blood. Fresh, warm blood, right in front of my nose.

My hands snatched instinctively for the source of the smell, and I opened my eyes to the lifeless carcass of a mountain goat. It had been killed recently, head crushed, body still warm. Unthinking in my hunger, I yanked the animal to my mouth, biting into its furry neck. I fed, eyes rolling back in their sockets, feeling the warm liquid coursing immediately through my veins. The desiccated cells of my body let out a collective sigh of pleasure. I don't think blood ever tasted so good. Certainly not goat blood.

When my reason returned, I took my lips from the animal's neck and gasped, "Zenzele?"

"Eat, my love," Zenzele said from a little distance. She had already fed, I saw. Her flesh was plump with blood. She was sitting hunched before a small fire, her eyes reflecting its light like two orange coals.

Bhorg laughed, pushed the goat back toward me. "Drink your fill, little man. You look like a bundle of dry sticks. We've already fed."

I peered at my hands. He was right. They did look like bundles of dry sticks. Three weeks of relentless pursuit had shriveled my flesh to the bones.

"Go on," Bhorg said with a nod.

I bent back to its neck.