by William King
“There he is,” said one of the guardians. “We have him now.”
“Do you?” Rik asked, springing tiger-like on the foe he had driven back and knocking him to the ground. Straddling his opponent’s chest he placed his blade against its neck and pushed down, sawing the head partially from the shoulders. A swish of air behind him warned him of peril and he sprang just in time to avoid being pinned to the enemy. Instead, the guardian’s blade went through its companion’s breast with such force that it became embedded in the floor.
Rik attacked in that moment of defencelessness and slashed away the hand holding the blade, at the wrist. His foes may have been invisibly armoured by magic but their weak spots were at the joints of their limbs and necks, which had to remain flexible and thus vulnerable.
He shouted this information to Tamara, just in case she had not realised it herself, and set to work at butchery. He hoped that Asea would get here in time. He sensed there was something unstable about the Gate.
Sardec watched as the undead rolled forward in an irresistible wave of stinking, rotting flesh. Their feet made an awful squelching sound and their bellows breath whistled eerily. There was the thunder of musketry and the smell of gunpowder as the Foragers opened fire.
Their foes were packed so close that they could hardly miss. Walking corpses toppled to be trampled underfoot by their companions who kept on coming.
It seemed like only a matter of moments before they had reached the walls of the cottage. Sardec could see their yellowish faces, bloodshot eyes gleaming, the blood of old wounds running down their heads. He had faced crowds and regiments before but there was something about the silence of the undead that was deeply unsettling.
Silence was the wrong word, he thought. They did not speak. They did not shout. They did not whisper. They made no attempt to communicate. The only sounds that came from them were involuntary. The whistle of air from corrupted lungs, strange groans that might have been the emissions of animals. They looked like humans, but they came on like an army of ants, and whatever intelligence that was in their eyes was as different from that of humans as an insect’s might have been.
The door bulged as the weight of dozens of bodies pressed against it. With a crack it gave way and the undead monsters began to crawl in over the piled furniture. Sardec prepared himself for close combat.
The door exploded inwards and Asea entered. In one hand she held her lightning wand, in the other was a sword of truesilver. The runes on the blade blazed in the eddy currents of powerful magic. There was a brilliant flash, and the smell of ozone filled the air. One of the guardians fell, skin blackened, and then Asea spitted him on her blade. His flesh sizzled as the blade worked its way in; when it reached his heart, the chest seemed to collapse inwards as if bones and internal organs had liquified. If they were magical in nature that was quite possible.
Rik redoubled his efforts, fighting his way over to Asea and preparing to defend her. With the aid of her magic, the fight was soon over. Once they had done with the guardians, the sorcerers were easy prey. They never stirred from the ecstatic communion with the Mirror even as he killed them. They stood uncontested in possession of the gate chamber. In the distance, alarm bells rang.
Rik looked at his patron. “What now?” he asked.
“You and Tamara hold the door. I will do what we came here to do. After that is done you must flee.”
“What about you?”
“I will try and get out but if worst comes to the worst you must abandon me. You and Tamara have the means to get out. I do not.”
“I won’t do that,” said Rik. “I won’t leave you here.”
“I don’t think you have any choice in the matter, Rik, unless you are keen to die. Now take up your position. We must get on with it.”
He stared at her, not yet willing to do what she said. She shook her head and smiled. “I thank you, Rik, for what you mean to do, but your death will serve no purpose. It would suit me better if you lived. I have made provision for you in my will. Karim has the documents with him.”
“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
“I suspected it might come to this, but I hoped it would not. Now in the name of the Light let me get on with this, or we shall all die here in vain.”
She tossed him the blade and the lightning wand. He held the blade gingerly by its insulated hilt and stuffed the wand into his belt. It was useless to him at the moment since he did not know how to use it.
He glanced around the room taking in the scene of utter devastation. All of the guardians were dead and decomposing with supernatural swiftness, taking the evidence of whatever supernatural tampering had been done to them to the grave. The air stank of rotting flesh and things long dead. The glow of the glittering gateway anchoring the spell hurt the eye if he looked at it too long. The sorcerers lay sprawled in their own blood, smiles etched eerily on their faces.
He glanced at the silver-masked figure of Asea, bowed to her and took up position beside Tamara. Behind him he could hear Asea making preparations. A glance backwards showed him that she was inscribing a circle of power around the gateway in chalk, kicking the bodies of the dead out of her way where necessary.
Whatever she was planning he hoped it would work. He could hear alarms ringing and the sound of men approaching from the distance.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tamara grinned at him. “I never thought it would be this bad,” she said conversationally.
He took his bantering tone from her. “You call this bad?”
“I have broken into the Palace Imperial in the company of two foreign spies, one of whom is a wanted traitor and the other of whom is suspected of having assassinated a high noble of the realm as well as the Queen of a neighbouring province long regarded as a rightful vassal. Since illegally entering the aforementioned Palace I have slain several more of Her Majesty’s devoted subjects and guards. I am now aiding and abetting in the performance of some doubtless forbidden ritual designed to undermine the power of the spell that is winning the war for Sardea. Have I missed anything out?”
“I could see how your enemies might put a negative interpretation on your deeds, but you missed my point.”
“Which was?”
“You call this bad.”
“Don’t you?”
“Not compared to some of the situations I have been in.”
“Perhaps you would care to while away the time before legions of our enemies appear by describing one or two of them to me.”
“I was once stuck in a coffin plunging from leagues above the clouds along with an unconscious Queen while a Nerghul battered away at the outside.”
“You are exaggerating.”
“Not at all. If anything I understate the peril of the situation.”
“Out of modesty, no doubt.”
“I do not like to boast.”
“Modesty is your greatest asset.” Behind them Asea had begun to chant. The hair on Rik’s neck began to stand as he sensed the flow of mystical power curdling the air behind him.
“When did this happen?”
“After I single-handedly broke into the Serpent Tower and freed the imprisoned heir to the Kharadrean throne. It turned out that the Tower itself was some kind of ancient star-faring vessel and it was returning to the place from whence it came.”
“I am gratified to be in the presence of such a hero.” Rik was certain that he could hear men approaching now. They were coming in great numbers. It would not be long now before the guards arrived. He hoped they were not bringing more of the guardians with them.
“Then there was the time when we broke into the lost city of Achenar, wiped out the last remnants of an Elder race and banished a demon god.”
“I begin to understand why you decided to come along on this mission. To a man of your accomplishments this must seem a mere bagatelle, a thing hardly worthy of your talents.”
“It whiles away an otherwise dull hour in a dull city.”
“I am gratified to hear it.” The flow of immense energy around them grew stronger. Asea’s voice was raised to a scream. He took another glance at her. A glowing nimbus of light surrounded her, so bright that it was almost dazzling. Even after he looked away the outline of her form still blazed upon his retina.
“Do you think she is all right?” Tamara asked.
“You would know more of these things than I.”
“I am beginning to doubt that.”
“We’ve escaped from tighter situations than this. We were surrounded by the city guard in Halim. The Quan had closed the seaways to us and the only way from the city was over water.”
“Naturally this provided no insuperable obstacle to a man like yourself.”
“The Lady Asea managed to get most of a company of us out in balloons, wafted over the walls, swamps and water by the power of her magic.”
“Perhaps she might be able to do the same for us here.”
“I am not hopeful.”
“You will have to arrange our exit yourself then.”
“Such thoughts had crossed my mind.”
A mass of uniformed men surged in at both ends of the corridor. They carried muskets and they looked like they knew how to use them.
“It was a bit thoughtless of the Lady Asea to destroy the door to this chamber when she entered,” said Tamara. “Otherwise we could have simply sealed it and barred the entrance.”
“Doubtless she felt the need to make a spectacular entrance.” At the far end of the corridor men raised their muskets. They did not seem at all keen to ask any questions of intruders, merely to fire their weapons.
“Might I suggest that we step back into the chamber and out of the line of sight of these would-be marksmen?”
“A capital suggestion. Let us suit actions to words.”
They threw themselves backwards as the first musket balls peppered the walls all around them.
“They do not seem keen to negotiate,” observed Tamara.
“Doubtless they fear our power,” said Rik. “They know we must have slaughtered the Guardians of the Gate and thus have proven ourselves foes of supernatural strength.”
“Their fears are justified given your amazing exploits in the past. Perhaps it is time for you to stride forth and slaughter them. After that, you can clear the Palace and declare me Empress.”
“I am surprised to hear you voice such treasonous sentiments towards your rightful liege.”
“I apologise. I was merely carried away by the excitement of the moment and your overwhelmingly heroic presence.”
Outside things suddenly went quiet. Rik risked a glance to see why. A monstrous figure advanced down the corridor towards them while the soldiers looked on with horror written on their faces.
“What in the name of the Light is that?” Rik asked.
“It has nothing to do with the Light,” Tamara said. “Lord Xephan has come himself.”
There was fear in her voice that communicated itself to Rik.
Rik had never seen anything quite like Lord Xephan before. Spiked armour encased the Terrarch's form. Something about it reminded him of the Nerghul, that strange creation of alchemy and necromancy. It was a carapace of rotted muscle and fused bone.
Its movement was like watching exposed sinew and cartilage flex and spasm as a patient writhed in agony under a surgeon's saw. The armour seemed alive but a moment's consideration told him that this was the wrong word. It was undead in exactly the same way as the walking corpses created by the plague.
A monstrous crest of bone rose from Xephan’s back, webs of flesh woven between it like some strange sail. They burned with sorcerous power, drawing energy from the Black Mirror. The thing was the product of the darkest sorcery and the mere fact that Lord Xephan dared wear it here told Rik that he was either desperate or supremely confident.
The armour made Xephan much larger and bulkier, at least a head taller than Rik and Rik was a tall man. Only Xephan's face was exposed; its delicate Terrarch beauty incongruous amidst the horror framing it.
His gaze met Xephan's and something passed between them, the knowledge of shared sins. In some ways, for Rik, it was like looking in a mirror. The Terrarch’s ecstatic face spoke of unspeakable appetites and strange sorcery. Rik knew without having to be told that he was in the presence of someone who practised thanatomancy.
Lord Xephan gestured for the soldiers to step back and they did so, only too gladly, obviously wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. Tamara stepped forward into the corridor as soon as she was certain that she was not going to be shot. Xephan sketched a bow. His movements were obscenely delicate given the enormous bulk and power the armour lent him.
"Tamara," he said. "I confess that you're the last person I expected to see here. When the alarm was given I thought it was one of my comrades making a bid for power. Oh well, perhaps I was right anyway even though I thought that you had defected to the other side."
"What are you going to do about your soldiers now that they've seen you in your fine new raiment? You surely can't let them live. Or are they all sworn to the Shadow as well?"
Rik knew that she was speaking for the benefit of the soldiers, letting them know what was going on here, hoping that they would rebel if he knew exactly who it was they were serving. He doubted that it would work but it was worth a try. Anything that bought time to let Asea close the Gate was.
"It's nice to see that you still have your wits about you, Tamara, but your sharp words will have no affect on the loyalty of these brave warriors. They can see through your tricks. They know that my magic is used only for the benefit of the Empire."
Rik could hear the subtle sorcery in his words. It was the same sort of magic that he had suspected Joran of and which he knew that Lord Azaar practised. It was magic intended to sway the hearer and make them believe in the speaker’s words. Such casual use of magic made him envious.
"By that I take it that you mean the men will be dead by the end of the day. Thus you will repay their loyalty."
"You are a persistent, lovely Tamara, but come - you have not introduced me to your friend. I do not recognise him as one of our Brotherhood although I can see that he shares some of our favoured practices."
"Why don't you ask him? He can speak for himself."
"No need. I can guess who he is. There's only one person he really could be, isn't there? I believe that this is the famous half-breed Rik. Am I right?"
"What if he is?"
"Then you are, as I suspect, a traitor and you've brought an enemy into the very heart of our realm. The question is why? Why have you brought Asea's puppet here?" Lord Xephan smiled. The expression was eerie, written as it was on that beautiful face floating above the magical armour of fused bone and animated rotting flesh. "Of course, you've come to either close the Gate or destroy it. That’s it, isn't it?"
"We've come to destroy you," said Rik.
"It speaks. I am honoured. I had thought I knew everyone who practised our ancient art. I am astonished to learn that this was not the case. You will tell me how you mastered our secrets, won't you? I don't suppose you'll have any choice once you're strapped to the dissection table."
"I learned thanatomancy from the same man who taught you," Rik lied, just to see what the response would be.
"Ah, my dear old master has been busy. I don't suppose I should be surprised that there were things he did not tell me. Are there any more like you?"
"Dozens," said Rik.
"You interest me. We shall discuss this further, under circumstances that I fear will not be much to your liking."
Rik wondered how Asea was doing. There was something about Lord Xephan that made him deeply uneasy. He doubted whether he and Tamara would be able to stop the Terrarch when and if he decided to enter the chamber.
"I will give you this one chance to surrender," Xephan said. "If you do not, you will suffer the c
onsequences of disobedience."
"Your offer might have seemed more generous if you had not explained what was going to happen to us once we were in your power," said Tamara.
"I suppose that was rather thoughtless of me," said Xephan. "In all the excitement, one rather tends to lose sight of these things."
"I don't suppose you would consider surrendering to us?" said Rik. "I may be inclined to spare your life."
"As you spared the life of Tamara's father?" Rik wondered whether Xephan was waiting for reinforcements or whether something else was happening elsewhere in the Palace.
It did not matter, just as long as Xephan was prepared to keep talking, he was prepared to participate in the conversation. Suddenly, the bony wings on Xephan's back flexed and opened. An aura of power surrounded him, crackling with strange energy, and Rik understood why the dark lord had delayed. A terrible smirk transformed Xephan's face. He looked positively demonic.
"Rik, beware," shouted Tamara. Even as she spoke, Xephan sprang forward. To any other eye than Rik's, his moments would have been so fast as to be invisible. Even Rik was taken by surprise by his speed and barely managed to throw himself to one side. A fist, enclosed in armour of flesh and bone, smashed into the wall beside him, sending chips of solid rock flying through the air. Rik shuddered. If that blow had connected, he would have been dead. Its sheer power would have knocked his head from his shoulders.
Tamara leapt forward. Her blade smashed into the undead armour but did not break it. Xephan laughed and struck out at her, sending her flying down the corridor, to smash into the wall and lie still. Rik found himself standing face to face with the monster. Xephan's smile was creamy, as if he had enjoyed hurting Tamara enormously.
His hand stabbed out and connected with Rik's shoulder. Bony claws extended from each finger and bit into Rik's flesh. A moment later agony followed as poison was injected. Desperately, Rik invoked the spells to neutralise it, praying he was not too late. Even as he did so, Xephan's fist smashed into his chest, breaking ribs.
