[Konrad 02] - Shadowbreed

by David Ferring - (ebook by Undead)

  After he had slept for an uncounted number of hours and eaten his first proper meal, the dwarfs took Konrad higher up through the network of tunnels, returning him to the area where the magician dwelled. The guards allowed them through, and they made their way to the central chamber. When Litzenreich saw Konrad and the other three, he hardly spared them a glance. He continued about his work of assembling a weird copper contraption.

  “Hold this,” he said to Joukelm, and the dwarf hurried to do as he was requested.

  Konrad walked towards the wizard and stood in front of him. Litzenreich must have known he had been captured by the skaven, but even when he had finished his immediate task he ignored Konrad. This was also the first time he had seen the dwarfs since their recent expedition to the rodent underworld. Even if he did not know of their mission, he must have observed that they had been absent for a while; but he paid no attention and behaved as though nothing had happened.

  While chained up a few miles below, Konrad had frequently passed the time by considering all the possible slow and painful ways that he could kill Litzenreich if ever he encountered him again. Now, however, the idea of such vengeance seemed hollow. In the fury of combat, when the blood was hot, revenge was an ideal motivation, an incentive to action. If a comrade had been killed or badly wounded, a warrior would seek out and slay the opponent that had been responsible.

  Thoughts of vengeance had helped Konrad to survive, yet the flames of anger had died down, and he no longer felt much hostility towards Litzenreich. Perhaps he had been influenced by the dwarfs, the manner in which they had treated the whole episode so calmly. There was no way that Konrad would have sought to avenge himself in cold blood. The past was over and done. He had been liberated, and that was the most important thing. Nothing he did to Litzenreich could make things any different. Neither would he be saving himself from any future threat by dispatching the wizard, because he had no intention of having any further dealings with Litzenreich.

  Within the hour, he planned to be away from here. First, he needed a new outfit, weapons, a horse and money. And that was what he told Litzenreich as soon as the magician quit the central chamber, leaving the three dwarfs to finish constructing a complex web of copper tubes that seemed almost to be a model of the tunnel network through which they had so recently travelled.

  “Money?” said the wizard. “Money?” He frowned as though it were an unknown word. “I do not have money” He attempted to move past Konrad, but found his way blocked. “You are free to leave whenever you wish.”

  “Armour, clothes, a helmet, a shield, a sword, a horse,” repeated Konrad.

  “I owe you nothing.”

  “You tried to kill me.”

  “I did not.”

  “You sent me into the skaven tunnels knowing that they would smell the warpstone.”

  “Yes.”

  “You tried to kill me,” Konrad repeated.

  “No. I do not understand why you are complaining. You are not dead. If you were, you wouldn’t be able to complain.”

  “The only reason I’m not dead is because the dwarfs rescued me. And they didn’t come for me. They came for Varsung, who is dead.”

  “I thought he must be.”

  “Did you know he was Ustnar’s brother?”

  “All dwarfs are brothers.”

  “His real brother.”

  “What of it?”

  Litzenreich had saved his life, and Litzenreich had nearly cost him his life. These two balanced out. Originally, the wizard claimed he had wanted Konrad to bring back the warpstone as payment for resurrecting him from the bronze armour — and so, by such reckoning, Konrad was still owed for the role he had played in the mission to the skaven lair.

  “I’m leaving as soon as you pay what I’m due for bringing back the warpstone,” he said.

  “But you did not bring any back. You did not come back.”

  “I have come back now. And if I hadn’t gone, if Varsung hadn’t died, the other three would not have captured any warpstone.”

  “Not necessarily” said Litzenreich, and he made to pass by Konrad again.

  Konrad touched him for the first time, holding his palm against Litzenreich’s chest to prevent him moving.

  “I do not think it would be wise for you to threaten me,” said Litzenreich.

  And Konrad remembered who he was dealing with: a sorcerer…

  Even without a weapon, he could have slain Litzenreich in under a second if necessary. A dead magician could not cast a spell. Konrad lowered his hand, but he wondered how fast Litzenreich could have protected himself. Was it possible to conjure a defence faster than the reflexes of a trained warrior? Would the wizard have died before he could even utter a death curse?

  “You do not have to leave,” said Litzenreich. “I can give you everything that you need here.”

  “Ha! Are you offering me a job? You want me to go back and let the skaven smell my scent again, so that the dwarfs can loot more warpstone? I may be a soldier, Litzenreich, I may live by the sword, but I’m not stupid. I’m leaving before the skaven get here.”

  “Before the skaven get here?” echoed the wizard, and for the first time he looked at Konrad instead of through him. “What do you mean?”

  “They’re coming for you. They’re fed up with you stealing the warpstone. They plan to kill you.”

  “You are guessing.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “They know who you are, Litzenreich, and they probably know where you are. They are going to kill you. I don’t intend to be here when they arrive.”

  For the first time, the wizard looked confused. He appeared never to have considered that the skaven might take action against him; he seemed to believe that he could keep on stealing from them for ever and they would do nothing to prevent it.

  “You are guessing?” This time there was doubt, and it was a question.

  “No. Heinler told me.”

  “And who is Heinler?”

  “Their leader. A grey seer.”

  Litzenreich stared at him with undisguised incredulity. “A grey seer told you? Do not be so ridiculous.”

  Konrad shrugged. “He does not seem to like you, Litzenreich, he said something about already having paid a price for what you had done to him. Since then, your dwarfs have been back down there, killed several more skaven and blown up a tunnel. Heinler will be even less pleased with you now, I imagine.”

  “This grey seer, he really spoke to you?”

  Konrad nodded. “He can do all sorts of things. He’s one of their sorcerers, he’s like you.”

  “Nothing like me!” Litzenreich became totally still for a few seconds, his eyes unfocused, then suddenly he held up his right hand. “His paw was missing?”

  “Yes. You know him?”

  “Gaxar. That was the name by which I knew him. It was I who removed the paw. So he is back, that one?”

  “You ‘removed’ the paw? By sorcery?”

  “With a—” Litzenreich paused, as if trying to remember the word “—a sword.”

  “If he is a wizard,” said Konrad, bringing up a subject that had earlier intrigued him, “why can’t he do something about his hand? His paw, I mean. He can give life to the dead, so why not life to his missing paw?”

  “There is an old saying: ‘Magician, heal thyself’. It is a paradox, but what wizards can do for others they often cannot do for themselves.” Litzenreich shook his head slowly as he contemplated the mystery. “But you say he is restoring the dead?”

  Konrad told the sorcerer what he had seen in the skaven nest and what Heinler — or Gaxar, if that was his real name — had told him of his necromancy.

  “Creating simulacra once more, is he?” said Litzenreich, when he heard of the duel Konrad had fought with his double. He stood without moving, his unblinking eyes staring past Konrad.

  But this was not what Konrad wanted to discuss. He was wasting his time trying to talk to Litzenreich. He would get nothing from him; he wo
uld have to take what he needed. There would be weapons in the guardroom, armour and a change of clothing; and there must be something of value that he could sell or exchange for a horse once he reached the surface of Middenheim.

  He turned away from the wizard.

  Konrad had no real idea of the topography of the tunnels. All he could do was search through the various passages until he found what he required. His progress was soon blocked by a solid wooden door. He drew back the heavy bolts and passed through, but there seemed no more chambers off the shaft ahead. All he could see was another door.

  When Konrad reached it there were no locks, no bolts. The door was secured by more than mere locks and bolts, he discovered. He could not get out of Litzenreich’s domain until the sorcerer allowed him to. He turned and headed back the way he had come. He had left the first door open, and he could see the magician still standing at the end of the passage, illuminated in a halo of light from the lantern hung from the bracket next to him.

  As he reached the doorway, Konrad heard a loud detonation behind him. It was like a sudden clap of thunder, and he spun around in time to see the lightning strike.

  The heavy wooden door at the end of the tunnel shattered into a thousand pieces, and he was hit by a number of splinters and blinded by a flare of luminescence. He knew what a gunpowder explosion sounded and smelled like, but this was something different. It was no physical force that had demolished the solid door with such ease.

  He was still wearing his chainmail and leather armour, which protected him from the wooden darts, and he had instinctively thrown up his hands to shield his eyes. As he blinked, beginning to recover from the brilliant glare, he saw the outline of a shadowy figure appear through the dust and smoke. The creature was covered in fur and carried a sword — a skaven!

  Although still half-dazzled, Konrad sprang, armed only with the weapons of his primitive ancestors — his hands, his feet. The creature could not have expected an opponent to be so close, and the advantage lay with Konrad. He lunged forward, using the techniques taught by his eastern tutors on the frontier, chopping with the edge of his hand against the intruder’s neck.

  Down went the creature, and Konrad’s boot followed it, crushing its throat. He retrieved his victim’s sword and noticed that it was not the usual kind of jagged skaven blade; he also realized that the creature appeared to be wearing armour beneath its fur.

  But by then, a second combatant was facing him in the tunnel. The two swords clashed, and as Konrad’s eyes finally adjusted he observed that he was not fighting a skaven. His opponent was human, wearing a wolf skin over his helmet and armour. He could not be a true human, Konrad knew, he must have been one of the undead resurrected by Gaxar. Yet when he fell, mortally wounded, he bled red blood, not white maggots.

  Wolf fur, thought Konrad, as he tackled the third intruder. And this was the City of the White Wolf. They must have been Middenheim troops, he realized. No longer did he attack so ferociously, instead concentrating on defending himself. He did not want any trouble with the city authorities; he hoped to leave Litzenreich’s domain via Middenheim. But, having killed two of their troops, the military command were unlikely to take kindly to him.

  “Litzenreich!” yelled a voice from behind Konrad’s opponent. “You are under arrest for illegal use of warpstone! Order your men to surrender!”

  Surrender was not a word in Konrad’s vocabulary. He had just slain two of his opponent’s comrades, it would be sheer madness to give up his sword. In many circumstances, surrender meant summary execution. Here, he would be regarded as an ally of Litzenreich’s, and the punishment for handling warpstone was death.

  He heard footsteps racing up behind him, and he recognized the sound of the strides. Only dwarfs ran like that. A second later, he was joined by Ustnar. Dissatisfied by Konrad’s evident reluctance to finish off his opponent, the dwarf pushed past. His axe swung twice, and the trooper dropped, both his legs severed at the knee.

  Joukelm and Hjornur also arrived, and the three of them trampled the wounded trooper underfoot as they advanced along the passage, cutting a swathe through the ranks of attackers. They were the experts, born tunnel fighters. Konrad gazed down at the third warrior who was screaming and writhing in agony. All he could do was put an end to him as swiftly as possible. This was the first lesson that Wolf had ever taught him, when the mercenary had finished off the second of the woodsmen who had ambushed Konrad in the Ferlangen stables.

  He placed the tip of his sword against the trooper’s throat, then leaned down with all his weight. The soldier jerked and screeched one final time, then became both still and silent as twin streams of blood spurted from his throat and mouth, joining the rivers of red that flooded from his amputated limbs.

  Konrad went back in search of Litzenreich. He found the sorcerer in his central chamber. The place was an inferno, and he wondered how the invaders could have reached here so soon. Then he realized that the destruction was the magician’s own work. Litzenreich stood in an untouched part of the cavern, while the blaze raged around him. He was destroying all the evidence of what he had done, all his books and notes, all his equipment and machinery and apparatus.

  Forced to step back from the blast of heat, Konrad sheltered away from the arched entrance, and yet the wizard stood untouched by the devastation he had wrought. He could have used his powers to throw back the assault. Instead he chose to annihilate every trace of what he had done in his secret lair beneath the city.

  That would not save him, Konrad knew. The very fact of immolating his work would be sufficient proof. It would be the death penalty for Litzenreich — and for Konrad.

  Then the wizard stepped calmly out of the furnace he had created, and he noticed Konrad watching him. “They shall not have the benefit of my genius,” he said calmly. “My years of research are mine alone. And I still have the most important thing of all.” He tapped his forehead.

  Four of the human guards pushed past them, to join in the battle.

  “Back to your posts!” Litzenreich commanded. “They will be breaking through elsewhere!”

  “At least it’s not the skaven,” said Konrad.

  “I think I would have preferred the skaven,” said Litzenreich. “You saw how that door was disintegrated? The so-called sorcerers of Middenheim are afraid to face me, so they send in their mercenaries, the city’s troops.”

  If the whole of the fortress city, the military and the magicians, were in alliance, Konrad realized they stood very little chance.

  “What about your magic?” said Konrad.

  “My rivals have combined to restrict my talents. I can sense the constraints. It is as though they have put a shell between me and Middenheim. I cannot summon any enchantments against our attackers.”

  “Then all we can do is fight.”

  “Fight? No, no. Perhaps I ought to try and explain, tell them about the skaven, that it is all happening again.”

  Konrad stopped listening. Talking was no use to him. That would only lead to surrender, which meant exchanging one form of imprisonment for another. He needed to escape, and he knew that the dwarfs had their secret routes out of Middenheim.

  “The skaven,” he said. “That’s it! We’re trapped between two enemies. We must bring them together, let them fight each other, not us.”

  “How?”

  The skaven were a secretive breed. Few even knew of their existence. Perhaps even the Graf of Middenheim was unaware of the rival domain far beneath his own territory. The foul beings that lurked in the deepest shadows were a much greater threat than Litzenreich, and somehow Konrad had to bring the city marshals’ attention to the danger. The garrison would then divert all its energies to defeating the giant rats — while he took his leave.

  The Middenheim troops had to be led towards the skaven. The rodent lair was too far away, and the soldiers would be unwilling to pursue Litzenreich’s band down into the deepest darkness. If, however, they learned of the existence of the subterranean sk
aven city, a whole army would be despatched to eradicate the hidden menace.

  “Heinler… I mean, Gaxar… said something about new recruits,” Konrad remembered. “That means dead bodies. The skaven were going to take them soon. Where would they find them?”

  “Morrspark,” said Litzenreich. “The catacombs.”

  “That’s where we’re going,” said Konrad. “And we’ve got to make sure that we’re followed. Understand?”

  “I may not be a soldier,” said Litzenreich, “but I am not stupid.”

  There was no way that Middenheim could grow larger; its boundaries were the edges of the mountain. The plateau was not much more than a mile square, which meant that land was at a premium. There was not enough room for the living, and very little for the dead. The poor simply threw the bodies of their relatives over the Cliff of Sighs. Those with more respect and money paid for cremation or burial at the foot of the slopes.

  Only the very rich could afford a place in the vaults beneath Morrspark.

  This was the point where the clan of dwarfs who had tunnelled up through the granite originally reached the surface. It was the oldest part of the city, and there were more shafts radiating from here than anywhere else in Middenheim. With the passing years, many of these passages had collapsed. This made the room available for burial even more restricted, and the price of entombment had increased accordingly.

  Funerals took place on the surface, but that was not the only access to the cemetery. The dwarfs knew how to reach the area via the crumbling maze of tunnels, a long and winding route which involved travelling via some of the sewers. The city troops were to be held back for a short while, then allowed to follow the defenders; but they had to be unaware that they were being deliberately led.

  Joukelm and Ustnar were at the head of the fugitives, who were composed of another dwarf, a number of Litzenreich’s guards, the women who included Gertraut and Rita, the cook — and also the sorcerer and Konrad. It was still impossible to discover how many dwarfs worked for the wizard, because some of them must have stayed behind with Joukelm and the other sentries in order to delay pursuit. Finally, that pursuit came. In the distance, reverberating through the web of tunnels could be heard the sounds of combat, the ring of clashing weapons and the cries of the wounded and dying.