Death's Chosen (First Cohort Book 3)

by M. R. Anthony

  I explained to her that we’d taken the woman and her child from her village in order to ensure her safety and asked if there was any way she could be taken to Sint. The lady of the household was a shrewd negotiator and made me pay a reasonable sum for the privilege. I didn’t mind – I would have paid generously anyway and it was only my own stubbornness that made me put up a show of haggling. In the end, I wanted the new host to look after the woman and her baby without any bitterness that she’d been underpaid.

  I think we were all relieved to see the back of each other. It wasn’t that the woman was poor company – in fact, had the circumstances been different I’m sure we’d have all valued her presence a great deal more. In the end, we knew that our loyalty and our duties lay elsewhere and it would have been painful for us if we’d become attached to either her or the child. We left the farmhouse without a wave or a farewell. Our pace was much improved and I could see the tension drain from the men’s faces as we headed once again to the north-east. Come the darkness, we stopped by a brook, which splashed merrily within the confines of its banks. The channel of the stream gave enough cover that I was happy for a fire to be lit and soon we were stretched out with our backs against the snow-covered the grass.

  “I think I’ve forgotten how to be anything other than a soldier,” said Beamer. “There was a beautiful woman with us and I had nothing to say. All I kept thinking was how slowly we were going and how much I wanted to find out where the rest of our boys were.”

  “You’re right,” said Weevil. “The trouble is, I don’t want to be like that. I thought we’d changed when we came to the Saviour and we have, but you know, we’re still different.”

  “Are you worried that no one will ever want you?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure, Captain,” said Weevil. “I reckon I’m more worried that it’s me who’ll never want anything other than what I’ve got.”

  “Every man can change,” said Sinnar. “The more he needs to change, the slower it’ll be, but never tell yourself that you can’t do it.”

  “In order to change, you have to want to do it,” said Ploster. “I think Weevil is saying that what he’s got is all he needs. How can you make yourself want something else?”

  “It’ll never happen while we’re fighting,” said Beamer. “While we’re at war, there’s nothing more important than the Cohort. Maybe if it ever stops, we’ll see things differently.”

  “It’s nice to think so,” I said. “I don’t want to die and I’m not looking for it. I just don’t dare spend a lot of time thinking about what happens to us if war goes away. I know there’ll be a time when I have to confront it, but some things you have to deal with when you need to.”

  “Yeah,” said Weevil. “It’s still a shame to think that none of us knew how to look after a baby. Maybe I should’ve been a better dad when I had the chance.”

  “I didn’t know you were a dad,” said Beamer.

  “I was. Not a good one. Left her to it all the time. Then I got bored and ran away to become a soldier. Told her I’d send the money home. I never did, of course. Spent two years feeling guilty, but the fighting soon took that away. Like killing other men was atonement for it. I don’t believe that now, of course. I was just a stupid, scared little shit. Never did find out what happened to the mother or my daughter. Dead and forgotten by everyone, except me. I didn’t even have the decency to marry her. And now all I can do is sit here, festering over the mistakes made by the man I no longer am.”

  “There are some things no one can fix but you,” Sinnar told him, without judgement.

  “I know that, Lieutenant. I’ve just kept hoping that one day I’ll wake up and I’ll have forgotten about everything. Or I’ll find that all these years vanish like a dream and I’ll somehow be given another chance to see what happened to my kid.”

  Sinnar put an arm around him. “You can’t change the past, but we can change what’s to come. Don’t go dying till we’ve done what we have to do and then we’ll let you find whatever oblivion you want.”

  Nothing more was said. The darkness closed in as the fire subsided, its fuel spent. Smoke blew across me with the breeze, the fumes bringing back more recent memories of our time in Gold fighting against Duke Warmont’s men. I was grateful that the pain we’d suffered there was enough to distract me from the more painful thoughts of my own distant past, which I’d buried deep within to protect me from the madness of pursuing them.

  I slept for a time, until early dawn brought me back to wakefulness.

  13

  The next day there was no new snow, though it was far too cold for the existing snow to melt. The skies were blue and the wind which blew into our faces was fresh rather than unwelcome. I knew little about Duchess Callian’s lands, other than that most of her towns and cities were in the southern half of her domain. We were far to the north, so I didn’t expect to see many people. To my surprise, we did find a road which went in the direction we wanted, but as ever, it was too great a risk for us to walk along. Instead, we forged our own path a few miles to the north of it. In contrast to Duke Warmont’s lands, this area was a seemingly endless plain, flat and bleak. The snow covered the ground, though not so thickly that it entirely hid the hardy grasses underneath. There were many streams and many small wooded areas.

  “We might as well be back on the Northdown Moors,” said Ploster.

  “It looks little different at the moment,” I conceded. “I think when the snows melt, the sun will shine here and it will be a pleasant land. On the Northdown Moors, the rain never seems to end and the skies are always grey.”

  “Winter should be almost over,” he said. “And we’ll be halfway through spring when we reach Angax.”

  “I don’t think we’ll find much warmth in the Sunderer’s lands. Not even in spring. It’s harsh for his people.”

  “It is not all bad,” he replied. “The summers can be fine, particularly in the southern areas. Still, I have sometimes wondered why Malleus bothered to conquer so much of the land to the north.”

  “Because it was there,” I laughed.

  “I wonder why he decided to stop,” he replied. “The mountains to the north would have made a more natural border. Instead, he reined in his armies where he did.”

  “Perhaps he knew something even then,” I said. “We never fought on his northern borders and I’ve not heard even a hint about what made the Emperor decide he’d had enough of conquering.”

  “I am very interested to find out,” said Ploster. “Malleus was in his pomp back then and there were times I thought he would stop for nothing. Now we’ve had over two hundred years in which his borders have remained static.”

  “We’ve spoken about this before,” I warned him. “And we’re still no closer to knowing what drives the man. Whatever it is, it’s something completely different to what drives you or me.” We’d gone over that old ground many times before and I didn’t wish to repeat the experience for the moment. Instead, I changed the subject. “What happened when you put the circlet on?” I asked him.

  “Where is it?” he asked, not answering the question.

  “Here,” I said, patting at the shirt I wore under my breastplate. “I have it tucked away.”

  “It’s powerful,” he said. “When I lowered it onto my head, it changed in size to be a perfect fit and all at once I saw possibilities and permutations for my magic that I’d not considered before. I used it, but it was more than I could control. I burned that creature and in doing so, overreached. The circlet magnifies, yet it also tempts. I would not like to wear it again.”

  “You think you would be lured into doing the same as you did before?”

  “The only time I’d need its power is when my own abilities are not enough. In such extremes, I have no doubt that I would have no choice other than to use it once more.”

  “Will the Saviour be able to make use of it?” I asked.

  “I think it could be the difference between a battle won and a battle lo
st,” he said. “I would not like it to fall into the hands of a death sorcerer. Or the Emperor.”

  At these words, I became acutely aware of the circlet’s presence and felt the cold metal digging into my flesh. “Are we not better off burying it and returning for it later?” I asked. “Or destroying it?”

  “Who knows?” he asked. “Do you think you could hide it anywhere here and find it easily when you need it?”

  I took his point. “I’ll keep it with me for the time being.”

  “I might have learned something from the sights it revealed,” he said hesitantly, as if he wasn’t at all sure himself.

  “Has it made you more powerful?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Knowledge without power makes for a poor sorcerer,” he said. “I have plenty of the former and am lacking in the latter. We’ll see if I’ve learned something. Regardless, it’s always good to see things from a new perspective.”

  We marched on without pause. The plains were so vast that it was easy for the eye to be fooled into thinking we hadn’t moved at all, when in reality we’d covered a lot of ground. The footing was uncertain, yet that wasn’t enough to overcome our motivation to find out what had become of the rest of the Cohort. In our wake, we left a trail of footprints, as straight as you could imagine and with hardly any fresh snowfall to conceal them. I gave it little thought – I had no reason to assume there was anyone following us. It was those who lay ahead that gave cause for concern.

  The day ended and we camped. We rose with the morning and repeated the previous day. There was no reason to believe we’d accidentally stumble across Craddock or the two pursuers. The land was so vast that the chances of either happening seemed so remote as to be almost impossible. In addition, I knew that the Cohort would be marching with all due speed to their destination and Craddock was unlikely to force a confrontation with the Hungerer or Flesh Shaper if he didn’t need to. He’d always been practical above all else and rarely lost sight of his primary goals.

  Two more days passed and I felt like we’d covered a significant distance. Then, I was reminded that even the tiniest of chances must occasionally become reality. It was Sinnar who saw them first – a multitude of tracks which swept across from the west and joined our path over the grasslands. I wasn’t a skilled tracker and wasn’t able to tell how fresh they were. There’d not been any snow for the last four days, so they weren’t any older than that.

  “How many men do you think?” I asked everyone.

  “I’m not sure,” said Weevil. “Plenty of them.”

  “It’s not a full-sized army,” said Sinnar. “Four men wide, long strides.”

  “It’s got to be Craddock, hasn’t it?” I asked, looking in front. The tracks headed more easterly than we’d been travelling. I trusted his sense of direction better than my own, so we changed course at once to follow. We didn’t know with absolute certainty that we followed the Cohort, but their marching pattern suggested we’d found them. It looked like most of them had escaped the tower and had decided to continue to Angax. Our moods picked up at once and we laughed and joked while we pursued the rest of our men at a half-run. I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on the possibility that they’d all been killed or our numbers reduced so much that only a handful of us remained. Here, I saw the first sign of hope that we’d be reunited with the rest of the men.

  The high spirits didn’t last for long. As we ran, I became aware of something just to the north – fifty or so yards away from us. It was an imperfection in the snow that I couldn’t quite make out. I increased my pace and sprinted over to see what it was. My fears were realised – there were two more sets of prints, both misshapen and indistinct. One set of marks was shallow, as if the owner were skating across the surface of the snow. The other prints were large and deep, with large gaps between each one. I joined my group again.

  “Terrax follows them,” I said. “And the Hungerer is with him.”

  Sinnar uttered a string of oaths. “They’ve cast their lot with Callian and whoever else it is that has decided to betray the Emperor. I doubt they want news to reach Malleus before they can complete their plans.”

  “Equally, I am sure they don’t wish to jeopardise those plans by spending weeks pursuing three hundred men across half of the Empire,” said Ploster.

  “Yeah,” said Sinnar. “Let’s hope they give up before they find what they’re looking for.”

  “We need to watch ahead,” I said loudly above the clanking and scraping noises that accompanied my strides. “I’d hate to come upon them with only five of us.”

  Two more days went by. Angax was still far away, yet I felt better that we were covering so many miles with each day. On the second day, I was forced to confront the inevitable: the snow was beginning to melt. I knew that in the Duke’s lands it would rarely lie for long. Here, it had persisted for longer than I’d expected, but without fresh snow to fall on top, it had started to become patchy in places. The grass underneath was revealed, vibrant green and a welcome change from the unending whiteness we’d seen recently. It was good news and bad news. None of us really liked the snow and its melting made it harder for the death sorcerers to track down the Cohort. On the other hand, it would eventually make it impossible for us to do the same.

  We came into a series of gentle hills on that afternoon which prevented us from seeing as far ahead as we’d been able to up till now. Nevertheless, I liked being on undulating terrain instead of flat or low-lying land. Heavy infantry and cavalry always performed poorly when attacking up hill and it was something which the First Cohort had used to our advantage time and again. In the valleys, we crossed steams which were swollen by the influx of melting snow. It was impossible to escape getting wet, even if it wasn’t a major problem. The tracks we followed were harder to see, though there was still enough snow that we could easily follow. I had a sense of urgency and I pushed us on late into the night, long past the point at which it would have been safest to stop. By the time I thought about asking Ploster to cast his light, I realised that my haste might lead us into danger. I ordered a halt.

  We set camp next to a collection of rocks and boulders. They weren’t anything like a fortification, but they were something to keep our backs to. Beamer and Weevil went out to forage for something that would burn, while the rest of us were happy enough to leave them to it.

  “We’ll lose the tracks tomorrow or the day after at the latest,” said Sinnar. “Assuming there’s no fresh snow.”

  “There’ll be no snow,” I said. “There’s none in the air – I can feel it.”

  “It’s become warmer, hasn’t it?” said Ploster. “Winter will soon be gone.”

  “The Northmen won’t let winter go,” said Sinnar. “They’ll bring a worse cold with them, even if the Emperor holds them off till summer.”

  “We’ll see,” I said, not wishing to speculate for the moment.

  “I feel like time is running out,” Sinnar continued. “The Saviour is attacked from the north, and possibly from the south and east. There’s rebellion in the Empire it would seem, and we have an unknown foe who’s managed to drag even Malleus off his throne to intervene.”

  “I thought you loved the challenge,” I said to him.

  “I do,” he said. I could sense the smile even in the darkness. “It’s just that I hate being away from it all. When my enemy is in front of me I know that every man I kill brings us closer to victory. When there’s no one here, all I have are my worries that those same foes grow stronger, until eventually there’ll be too many to destroy.”

  “What changes a man of learning into a man so determined to crush his enemies?” I asked softly.

  “There came a time when there was no one left to teach,” he said.

  Our conversation was disturbed by a noise. At first, I thought it was Beamer or Weevil approaching. That idea didn’t last long – we heard a gruff sound. It was part growl and partly the sound of something clearing its throat. Whatever it was, it was large and it
was close by. I didn’t need to tell the others to be quiet. I saw something, framed as a darker silhouette against the already black sky. It was the Hungerer. Whether it had come to look for us or whether chance had sent it our way, I didn’t know. The beast stopped, maybe fifty or sixty yards from where we crouched near the rocks. We sat in absolute silence – from what I knew of it, the Hungerer could hear the smallest of sounds. Our only hope was that it couldn’t smell us or see well in the dark.

  The passing moments dragged until I was certain we would have to fight. Then, I sensed it move away, with footsteps almost silent on the grass. It produced another low growl – deep and resonating, but this time further away from us. We sat unmoving and unspeaking for another five minutes.

  “That was close,” said Ploster.

  “Was it looking for us?” I asked him.

  “It’s always looking for something,” he said. “Whether that is us, I have no idea.”

  Beamer and Weevil returned together, carrying armloads of sticks that they’d managed to forage from the surrounding area. I didn’t have to ask if they were aware of how close we’d just come to destruction. “The bastard’s gone back along the way we came,” whispered Beamer. “I got a good view of it from higher up. It’s definitely searching.”

  “There’ll be no fires tonight,” I said. “Let’s see if we can get hidden a little better than we are.”

  There wasn’t much cover amongst the rocks, but we did the best we could. I was in two minds as to whether we should press on, though the risks of walking across unfamiliar terrain seemed just as great as staying put. We stayed, though the night was an uncomfortable one even for us who’d seen more than our fair share of rough camp sites. The Hungerer didn’t return and we were on our way an hour earlier than we’d have normally set off.