Lukas the Trickster

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by Josh Reynolds


  As if in defiance of the storm, the Chapter vox-net crackled with activity, the voices of jarls and thegns reporting in from across the planet. The Rout might be trapped on Fenris, thanks to the Helwinter, but the eldar were trapped with them.

  There were other sounds as well – snatches of whispered voices and cackles of laughter. As if some unseen audience were listening in and finding it all to be quite amusing. Lukas ignored those. He had heard worse, wandering about a ship during a warp-transit.

  Wherever the xenos were spotted, the Wolves soon arrived. The enemy were Raiders rather than invaders, and had not come prepared for war. In most cases, they sought to flee. The question was, where? He called up a planetary grid display on the holoslate.

  Lukas studied the flickering cartographic holo-projection, tracing the reported sightings, trying to find the source. Every pack had its leader. Kill them, and the others would be easy meat. But the eldar were taking full advantage of the storm, using its interference to hide themselves from sensor sweeps. Constantly on the move, riding the wind. It was almost funny, in its way. The strategy was similar to that employed by most of the Raider-clans who prowled the Savage Sea. Strike and fade, taking only what they could carry. Everything else was put to the torch.

  They were fast – faster than the Rout even, which was a rarity – both in speed and reaction time. They had come prepared. Some were using false sensor bursts to hide their trails. Others employed mimetic baffles or phantom generators to seed the area with photonic mirages, confusing the eyes of their pursuers.

  ‘We’re being led by the nose,’ Lukas muttered.

  ‘What?’ Kadir joined him. Lukas started. He hadn’t heard the Blood Claw come back. He glanced towards the mortals’ camp and saw that the fire was burning low. They were asleep. He had been staring at the maps for longer than he had thought.

  ‘Did you spot something?’ Lukas asked.

  Kadir removed his helmet. ‘I thought I did. I heard something, like laughter, and saw a flash of colour. But it was gone before I could catch up to it. I thought for a moment that it was you, playing a joke. But here I find you, muttering to yourself.’ He shook his head.

  ‘Not muttering. Plotting.’ Lukas gestured, causing the image to flash and expand. ‘Look at this. See these markers? These are encampments. Someone is using our environment against us. Whoever is in charge of these creatures is playing games with us.’

  ‘Encampments?’ Kadir leaned close. ‘How can you tell?’

  Lukas peered at him. ‘An Inquisitor of my, ah, acquaintance taught me much about these creatures. Lovely woman. Strong principles. Good moral fibre.’

  ‘Since when did you know an Inquisitor?’

  ‘I locked her in a grox breeding pen. She had a sense of humour, that one.’ He shook his head. ‘Not important, I suppose. Still, she taught me a bit. Never know what might come in handy.’ He looked back at the image. ‘He’s smart, this one. Sneaky.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Whoever is in charge of this.’ Lukas tapped the display. ‘Their leader.’

  ‘You sound as if you admire him. It.’

  Lukas was silent. Kadir stared at him. ‘You do, don’t you? You admire this filth.’

  ‘You have to admit, as jests go, this is a good one.’ He laughed. ‘He’s using the planet – our planet – against us. It’s like bashing someone over the head with their own whetstone. That won’t stop me from feeding him his own liver, when we come to it.’ He hiked a thumb at the trees. ‘Those jetbikes we destroyed were short-range vehicles. They had to come from somewhere.’

  Kadir grunted. From his expression, Lukas could tell he hadn’t thought about it. ‘Yes, but to make camp here… Why do that, save as the prelude to an invasion?’

  ‘This is a hunt, Kadir. And there is a hunt master. A guiding mind. I intend to take that mind and make it howl.’ Lukas’ smile was wide. ‘Let Grimblood and the others race back and forth, chasing shadows. We’ll go for the head and heart.’

  ‘Just us,’ Kadir said. ‘You, me and the others. Oh, and a few scruffy mortals. This has all the makings of a wonderful plan, Trickster. Do go on.’

  ‘They’ve set up encampments – hunting camps. Hidden from our sensors, obviously. They’re good at hiding, this filth. But there is a central camp. And that is where the one in charge will be.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Kadir growled.

  Lukas shrugged. ‘Unlike you, I have fought them before. They travel by strange routes, and it’s always the same. Whichever one is in charge stays close to whatever hole they wriggled out of. It’s almost as if they don’t trust each other.’ He chuckled harshly. ‘Given what I’ve learned of their society, I don’t blame them.’

  Kadir shook his head. ‘I’m surprised you know anything about them at all.’

  ‘And why shouldn’t I?’ Lukas’ expression turned serious. ‘You should always study your prey, pup.’ He tapped a claw-tip against Kadir’s chest-plate. ‘And another thing I know is that they will have some method of communicating with one another.’

  ‘And you think to use that to triangulate the location of the main camp.’

  Lukas nodded, pleased that the Blood Claw had grasped the idea so quickly. ‘What do you think of my plan now?’

  ‘It’s still a fool’s dream.’ Kadir smiled thinly. ‘But we are Blood Claws. How do we find one of these camps of yours?’

  Lukas grinned. ‘Simple. We ask.’

  Duke Sliscus studied the conflicting reports with growing irritation. The mon-keigh had somehow been alerted to their presence. Now they raced to and fro across the planet’s surface, chasing his guests. Not an unexpected occurrence, but an unwelcome one. Thankfully, the storm was keeping the humans’ aerial support safely grounded. They lacked the skill to navigate such strong winds. His own corsairs had no such difficulty, though the same could not be said for some of his guests.

  Already casualties were starting to come in. No one important, but they complained nonetheless. As if this were a pleasure outing rather than a raid. Annoyed, he tossed the dataslates aside. ‘If I had known it was going to be this much trouble, I might not have done this.’ He pushed himself to his feet and strode to the prow of the Raider.

  Despite the difficulties, things were going according to plan. The mon-keigh system fleet was being run ragged by his ships, drawn from one end of the system to the other. Unable to contact the planet, they had no idea that they were being led by the nose. The moment that changed, it would be time to depart, and swiftly.

  ‘This affair is fast coming to an end. The fires dim, the songs fade.’ Sliscus watched the pict-feed as it flickered across the screens. ‘Soon we must depart this shadowed vale and seek softer lands.’

  ‘Almost poetic,’ Malys said. ‘There is talk.’

  ‘About my poems?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Pity.’ Sliscus looked at her. ‘What, then?’

  Malys tapped her fan against the rail. ‘A plot.’

  Sliscus gave a bark of laughter. ‘Against me? That’s more like it. Who is it?’

  ‘Your servants.’

  Sliscus smiled. ‘Myrta, you mean.’

  ‘And your fleshweaver.’

  ‘Jhynkar,’ he said flatly.

  ‘Is that his name? I find it impossible to remember such inconsequential details.’

  Sliscus snorted. ‘It doesn’t surprise me. He is quite insignificant, on the whole. I was paid to take him aboard.’ He paused. ‘Do you think they want him back?’ He gestured dismissively. ‘No matter. They can have him, if they wish. He is not my prisoner.’

  ‘Have you told him that?’

  Sliscus shrugged. ‘If he had half the wit he claims to possess I wouldn’t need to. Just as you should know that this is a poor bargaining tactic. You have spoiled my fun, Aurelia. For shame.’

  Malys laughed.
‘Only you would consider such plots to be entertaining.’

  ‘Well, me and one other. Three of us together, if you include yourself.’ He grinned sharply and turned back to the screens. ‘Why bother to tell me?’

  ‘I need you alive.’

  ‘I thought we had already reached an agreement to disagree regarding that matter.’ Sliscus snapped his fingers, and a slave hurried forward, carrying a goblet on a tray. Sliscus snatched the goblet up and took a swig. He spat the liquid over the rail with a hiss of disgust. ‘Poisoned. And not one of my usual ones.’ He glared at her. ‘Your doing?’

  She hid her smile behind her fan. ‘Just a test.’

  He flung the goblet into the hapless slave’s face and wheeled to face her. ‘You are abusing my hospitality, Aurelia.’ He wagged a chiding finger at her. ‘I have no interest in playing the revolutionary, as I said. I have my place, and I am content.’

  ‘What, playing the Tyrant’s privateer?’ Malys glared daggers at him. ‘What would all those dashing young blades think if I told them the truth of the daring Duke? That he is just another of Vect’s play pretties, with no more will than the lowliest slave.’

  Sliscus clapped, slowly. ‘Are you done?’

  ‘No. You are a fool. You think yourself safe? You are anything but.’

  ‘Oh, I am well aware of that. Vect will truly seek to rid himself of me the moment my fame eclipses his own and I become a threat rather than an amusement. And then, and only then, will I strike.’ He shook his head. ‘I am not a schemer like you, Aurelia. I am cunning, yes. And clever. But I do not have the patience for plots and schemes.’

  Malys was about to reply when a soft chime from his sensor feeds sounded. Sliscus waved her to silence and went to the displays. He grunted as the information crawled across the screen. ‘Odd.’ Another pack of hunters gone, swallowed up by this world. His scouts had found wreckage, but little else. There had been other, comparable incidents, scattered over the past few days. He studied the screen, wondering if there truly was a pattern. If there was, then there might yet be a bit more fun to be had on this dreary world.

  Malys leaned forward. ‘What is it, Traevelliath?’

  He looked at her, wondering how much to tell her. After a moment, he gestured. ‘I find myself in need of your wisdom, my lady. Give me the benefit of your keen eye, Aurelia.’

  She stood warily and joined him. She peered at the data. After a moment, she frowned. ‘Well,’ he murmured. ‘What do you see?’

  Her smile was cold, and razor sharp. ‘Only the obvious, Traevelliath. Someone is hunting the hunters.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  KRAKENBAIT

  641.M41

  Lukas climbed the outcropping, trusting the weather and his doppelgangrel pelt to hide him from view. The elk he carried over his shoulders twitched and flopped as the bloodlice nesting within it stirred. They sensed his body heat and were growing hungry. Which was all to the good.

  The fire down below flickered wildly. It had been built in the lee of the crag, out of the weather. An eldar Venom sat nearby, its anti-gravity generators keeping it from being rolled by the wind. Its four crewmen crouched around the fire, laughing harshly as they played with their food. The Blackmane wolf snarled where it crouched at the edge of the fire, held in place by a barbed lash wrapped around its throat.

  The harder the beast struggled, the deeper the barbs dug into its flesh. Blood coated its flanks. Despite the pain, it bit vainly at the lash, trying to pull itself free. The eldar prodded and whipped the animal, enjoying its struggles. The wolf howled mournfully.

  Lukas reached the summit of the outcropping and lifted the elk. He paused, calculating the distance and angle. He felt the hairs on his neck prickle, and his calculations ceased as he froze, suddenly alert. For an instant, he felt as if he were being watched. Not an unfamiliar sensation on Fenris, but this was different.

  And as quickly as it came, it vanished.

  Perturbed, he tossed the carcass down, onto the Venom. The sound of it striking the skimmer was loud, despite the howling of the wolf and the storm. The eldar spun, shouting and cursing, then fell back screaming as the bloodlice erupted and swarmed over them.

  Lukas leapt. He dropped down into the camp and lunged for the trapped wolf. He severed the barbs that held the beast and stepped aside, allowing it to leap past him and onto the closest of the eldar. The xenos squalled as it was borne backwards into the fire by the furious animal. Lukas whistled sharply, and was answered by a series of howls from all around him. Kadir and the others burst from the snow, hemming the startled eldar in.

  ‘I want them alive,’ Lukas bellowed. He caught the eldar’s wrist and jerked the xenos off balance. Augmented muscle tensed and his punch nearly collapsed the creature’s sternum. He sank down, wheezing. Lukas quickly stripped the alien’s weapons from him – the visible ones, at least – and began to bind him with the rawhide thongs he carried for that very purpose. As he worked, he watched his pack fall on the remaining two eldar.

  Eldar were good fighters, vicious and unpredictable. But it wasn’t enough. The two remaining xenos warriors were quickly knocked sprawling, their weapons and limbs broken. The xenos were swiftly bound and dragged to the fire. The Blackmane had dragged its kill some distance away and was busy gorging itself. Lukas watched the wolf devour the eldar and smiled.

  ‘Why spare these creatures? They deserve death.’ Ake spat the words as Lukas turned. The Blood Claw activated his chainblade for emphasis and held the grinding teeth perilously close to one of the bound aliens. ‘Let me kill them, Strifeson.’

  ‘I want to question them.’

  ‘I doubt they speak Gothic,’ Kadir said dubiously. Lukas grinned.

  ‘Why should that matter?’ He looked down at the xenos. ‘Tell me what I want to know, and I won’t kill you,’ he said in passable Commorrite. If the eldar were surprised that Lukas spoke their tongue, they didn’t show it.

  ‘Tell me where your camp is. I know it’s close.’ He leaned in, the tips of his talons tap-tapping against his knee. One of them looked as if it were about to answer. Instead it spat on the ground. Lukas sighed, drew his plasma pistol and fired. As the now-headless body slumped, Lukas turned to the other two survivors. ‘Tell me,’ he repeated. ‘Tell me and I won’t kill you.’ One of the eldar cursed at him. Lukas holstered his weapon and drove one of his talons through the eldar’s chest, killing it.

  He dragged the body close, and drew his combat blade. ‘I guess we’ll do this the old-fashioned way,’ he grunted as he began to saw at the top of the xenos’ skull. When he had opened it up, he carefully scooped out the brain and began to eat.

  It wasn’t the sort of trick he normally indulged in, but it was effective. As he swallowed the chunks of spongy meat, the artificial nerve ­bundles in his stomach wall absorbed the genetic information contained in the cerebral matter. His mind was lit by flashes. Images, mostly, but scents and sounds too. Most of it was unpleasant, even by his standards. These creatures indulged in monstrosity the way he might drain a tankard of mjod.

  Lukas was a warrior of the Rout. He had killed thousands with his own hands, waded through seas of gore, burst eyes with his thumbs and bit out the throats of his foes. He had pulped flesh and pried loose bones. He had sent high-velocity explosive shells singing into packed ranks of enemy soldiery, and laughed as they were reduced to screaming ruin. He had killed when, where and who the Allfather dictated, and sometimes those foes had been less worthy than the sagas made out.

  Nothing he had ever done could be compared to the litany of horrors that now flooded his mind. But he kept eating, until it was all gone. When he was done, he sank back on his heels, processing what he needed. He blinked, trying to arrange his thoughts. At last, he said, ‘I think I have it.’

  ‘What about the last one?’ Kadir asked as Lukas stood, wiping his mouth.

  Lukas glanced a
t the Blackmane. The wolf stared hungrily at the remaining xenos, and the eldar was beginning to look panicked.

  ‘Fenris eats the weak,’ he said.

  Several hours later, as slate grey clouds crawled across the sky, Lukas lay flat on an unmoving floe of ice on the edge of a basin lake. The eldar’s memories fluttered faintly against his thoughts, growing less distinct with every passing moment. Soon they would be gone entirely. But he had learned what he needed to know.

  The mountains rose around him, and the forest pressed close to the edge of the lake. The lake was large, filling the entirety of what had once been an impact crater. Ice rose in rugose patterns across the surface. The basin was squeezed by tectonic pressures, and as the waters below surged, so too did the ice, to split, rise and freeze solid once more. Beyond the pale convolutions was an eerie shimmer, like the aurora that sometimes cascaded across the skies above the Aett.

  He heard the scrape of ceramite on the ice behind him. Lukas pointed towards the glow. ‘There. See that flicker on the ice? It’s a camp. They have erected a mimetic field to hide themselves.’

  ‘So it is,’ Kadir said as he crawled up beside Lukas. He didn’t sound entirely convinced. ‘The others are in place. What now?’

  ‘There’ll be a communications array of some sort in there. I intend to take it. We can use it to find the rest.’

  Kadir grunted. ‘Just the six of us?’

  ‘That should be more than enough.’

  ‘That’s a bad plan. It may well mean our death,’ Kadir said.

  Lukas rolled over and rose into a crouch. ‘Death isn’t written, pup. It isn’t some story in a book, inviolate and unchanging. It is sudden, and always too soon.’ He nodded towards the distant shimmer. ‘Grimblood might think I’m destined to die, but I’ll damn well do so on my own terms. And I’ve decided to die cutting the head off the snake.’

 

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