by William King
Taran let the King enter then strode in himself gesturing for soldiers to form a cordon around them.
“What’s going on here?” Kormak asked Prince Taran.
“Chancellor Cetreo lies dead in this vault. He and I are the only men with the keys. The vault doors are watched by the men of the Household Guard. The soldiers heard the Chancellor scream but when they entered the vault to investigate they found nothing except his body. They felt as if something was watching them.”
“These are the treasure vaults, are they not?”
Taran nodded.
“Cargo from the fleet has been deposited here all day and for the past few days.”
“You think someone may have been hidden in the chests?”
“Something. That wound was not made by a blade.”
“No. It looks like the claw mark of a sabretooth. I think we would have noticed if one of those had been locked in a chest.”
“Cetreo served us loyally all his life,” Aemon said. His tone was mild but his expression was that of a man who did not expect contradiction. “Let us see if we can get to the bottom of what happened here.”
He gestured for the soldiers to part. Their captain looked at Taran who nodded and the soldiers let the king pass. Kormak moved to Aemon’s side, more than ever feeling as if he was under observation.
The trail of blood led deeper into the cavernous chamber.
***
Aemon strode forward, his hands clasped together as if he were praying. His face was weary and his shoulders slumped. Kormak knew how he felt. He still had not recovered from the previous night’s exertions aboard the Kraken’s Reach. He felt tired and slow.
Ahead of him a line of torch bearers drove back the darkness. Kormak kept his hand near the hilt of his sword.
They passed a towering statue made of gold. It depicted a jaguar-headed Old One. The style was unlike any Kormak had ever seen.
Mounds of coins high as a man’s shoulder loomed on either side of them, the gateway to a long passage between more chests. The red ribbon of blood flowed through it and led to a massive rune-encrusted sarcophagus. The lid had slid to the ground. It depicted a being that looked like a human with the head of a dire wolf.
“This does not bode well,” said King Aemon. Kormak inspected the coffin. It was moulded of orichalcum and inlaid with binding runes of truesilver. They were not of any type he had seen before but they contained patterns he recognised. The workmanship was old and hinted at the inhuman.
“Something was imprisoned in this casket,” Kormak said.
The king inspected the rune-work as if he had some idea of what it might be. A linkboy held the torch close.
Aemon traced the runes on the lid with his finger. “The script resembles pre-Solari ideograms from the Sunken Kingdoms. These curved symbols would seem to be binding signs. The large central rune around which they are organised looks like a name. If you spell it out phonetically it could be Vorkhul. It means Born of Darkness in the Old Tongue.”
“Perhaps the occupant was an Old One.”
“This chest was delivered today. It was part of the load from the First Fleet. Cetreo came down here to check on the contents.”
Prince Taran stepped closer. He spoke as if he did not want to be overheard. “You are saying that an Old One is loose in the palace.”
Kormak nodded, aware of the ache in his neck muscles. Guiding the Kraken’s Reach through the storm had drained him even more than he thought.
“It cannot have left this vault then,” Taran said. “The chancellor entered just over an hour ago. His escort remained outside while he performed his inventory. They only went in when they heard what sounded like a howl and then Chancellor Cetreo screaming.”
“Did they see anything?”
Taran shook his head.
“Then you are right, whatever did this is probably still in here?”
“How? This palace is warded by elder signs.”
“I do not know,” Kormak said.
“If it’s still in here, the King is in danger.”
“The Light will shield me, brother. And there are my soldiers and Sir Kormak and your own good self if the Light needs a little help.”
Taran looked at Kormak. “What do we do now?”
“We don’t know what we are looking for, so we sweep through the vault as if we were beating for game.”
“Split into parties and move down any avenues from opposite ends, closing off any ways of escape,” Taran said.
“Precisely so,” Kormak said.
“Very well. Remain with my brother. Frater Jonas, come with me.” He gave terse orders dividing the force and they moved off. Kormak had to admit the man was brave. Few would have responded that way in the presence of an Old One.
King Aemon moved to take the lead. Kormak restrained him with one hand. “If it please Your Majesty, it would be best if I went first. In case, we are attacked like the Chancellor was.”
“Of course, Sir Kormak. This is your business and you know best.”
As they moved along the aisles, the two parties shouted to let their fellows know roughly where they were. With every step Kormak’s sense of being watched increased. He felt certain there was something hostile out there in the darkness.
The soldiers shuffled behind the torch bearers. They had lost the swagger of the invincible Siderean infantrymen. Kormak could not hold that against them. Hunting monsters in darkened vaults was not what they had been trained for.
A scream rang out from the end of the line. Kormak looked back. Just for a moment he thought he saw something before the press of bodies obscured his view. He pushed through the crowd and found one of the soldiers was down, his throat torn from ear to ear by a huge claw.
The treasure was piled high here. The top of the stacks made a natural hiding place.
Kormak clambered up. He had been born in the hills of Aquilea. Climbing came easily to him. His main worry was how exposed he would be as he ascended. If something waited for him up there, it would strike him at the moment of maximum vulnerability.
He pulled himself onto the top of the stack.
A shadowy figure lurked at the far end. Kormak drew his sword. Runes blazed along the blade.
“There’s something up here,” he shouted.
The thing pounced, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Weary as he was Kormak was too slow. Claws ripped through the flimsy cloth of the court tunic and pierced flesh. The burning line of pain only stopped when the talons encountered his elder sign. The thing hissed malevolently and drew back as if scalded.
Kormak lashed out with his blade. The creature shrank back, changing shape to avoid it. Its riposte clawed Kormak’s chest, drawing blood.
Kormak made two more strikes and the creature avoided both, as if toying with him. Its return strokes slashed red ribbons in his chest.
He leapt back. The thing came with him. Its shape shifted again. Two long serpents of flesh emerged from its shoulders and reached out like tentacles. Kormak shifted his weight so that the stack of crates overbalanced and sent them both toppling to the ground.
Kormak twisted to land on his feet. His attacker landed on a soldier, whose scream was cut off in an instant. Bones crunched. Flesh tore. Blood spurted.
The press of bodies around him, and the weight of the crates teetering on either side limited Kormak’s movements. His shapeshifting foe did not have to worry about hitting anyone friendly.
Another soldier screamed and fell. Then a torchbearer went down, landing on his torch. Flesh sizzled. Skin burned. It became darker.
His enemy tossed aside two men as it closed. Kormak stabbed. His foe writhed to one side, avoiding the blade’s point.
A blow of sickening force struck Kormak on the side of the head. All went black for a second and then stars flickered across his field of vision. As in a nightmare, he moved too slowly to counter attacks he could see coming. The thing struck him again. A spike of agony ripped through h
is chest.
A flare of light erupted all around him, bright as day. As he rolled clear of his foe, Kormak caught sight of King Aemon surrounded by an incandescent halo of power.
He turned his gaze back on the thing that had attacked him. Its form flowed as it sought to adapt to the light that pained it. Its limbs lengthened and shortened. Its skin became scaly and reflective. Its head always remained wolf-like. Glowing eyes glared around with malevolent hatred.
Gathering all his strength Kormak sprang forward, lashing out with his blade. It cut into the creature’s leg, drawing greenish blood. Flesh burned where the blade bit. The thing pulled its limb away and hurled itself into the air. It landed atop a pile of treasure chests and skittered away into the darkness. Its agonised shrieks receded into the distance. The soldiers pursued until Prince Taran pulled them back.
King Aemon looked down at Kormak’s bleeding form. “Are you all right, Sir Kormak?”
“I’ve felt better,” Kormak said. He tried to pull himself upright but the world spun and he fell forward into darkness.
CHAPTER SIX
KORMAK WOKE IN the chambers assigned to him. Morning sunlight filtered in through the drapes. A man in the crimson robes of a physician stood over him. When Kormak tried to sit up his chest burned. Red stained bandages covered his ribs. His sword and his amulets lay close to the bed.
Rhiana leaned over him. “What happened to you?” she said.
“I forgot to wear my armour.”
“It looks that way.” She smiled in the tight nervous way that people do when confronted by the sick.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Let’s hope.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, reached out and took his hand. “Seriously—what happened? I’ve seen you fight your way through a mansion full of armed men and barely take a scratch. You look as if you were tied in a sack full of starved ripper-fish.”
“An Old One,” Kormak said. “A powerful one. Somebody unleashed it in the Imperial Treasure Vaults.”
“What? How did it get in there? We are in a fortified citadel, ringed round with magical protections, under the light of a sunstone, near a Cathedral in which the armour of the Angel Zhamriel sits. I would have thought that if any place in the world was safe from Old Ones this would be it.”
Kormak shook his head. “The coffin itself might have protected whatever was in it. It was made of orichalcum. That shields against magical influences. The question is who put it there?”
“You think this was aimed at the King?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
“Why? The thing almost killed you.”
“That’s one of the reasons.”
“I am glad to hear you say that.” King Aemon’s soft voice carried across the room. Kormak wondered if he had just entered or whether he had always been there. The former seemed most likely. He doubted that even Rhiana would have spoken the way she had if the King had been present.
“Forgive the intrusion,” the King said. “I came to see how well you responded to my prayers.”
“You healed me, sire?”
“I prayed. The angel answered. Your wounds closed.”
“Thank you.”
The king reached down and patted Kormak gently on the shoulder. “It was nothing. The thing fled in fear of your blade after you wounded it. It was all I could do to hold it at bay. It was very strong.”
“It was, sire, and very fast too. Stronger and faster than almost any Old One I have ever encountered.”
“It is loose now in my palace. It slaughtered the men standing guard at the vault door and escaped into the dungeons below Palace Rock. Unless it has died of the wound you gave it, it is down there still.”
“It won’t have died.”
“That is unfortunate. As it fled, it killed a score of my best men, left almost as many crippled and it took only the one wound you gave it. Something needs to be done. I shall go to the Cathedral and pray for guidance. In the meantime, rest, recover your strength. I fear we shall have need of it before this matter is settled.”
He made a sign of benediction and left.
***
Kormak was not at all surprised when Prince Taran entered the room. He flashed Rhiana his brilliant smile then looked down at Kormak. “Well,” he said. “At least you’re alive.”
“There is that,” said Kormak.
“I thought Guardians were trained to kill such things, demons, Old Ones, whatever it was.”
“Sometimes we kill them. Sometimes they kill us.”
Taran nodded. “And sometimes they kill and maim almost two-score of men sworn to Imperial service.”
“Perhaps you should mention that to the creature. I am sure it will take into account the fact you find its behaviour objectionable when next it emerges.”
Taran sighed. “I shall take into account the fact you are wounded and in pain, Sir Kormak. I shall also take into account the fact you most likely saved my brother’s life. And the fact that we already owe you a considerable debt of gratitude. But if you speak to me in that disrespectful tone again . . .”
“Bad things happen to nobles who kill Guardians, Prince Taran. The Old Ones regard anyone not under the protection of my order as fair game. You have an Old One loose here in your palace. My order will not aid you if you kill me while I am helping you.”
“Is that what you are doing?”
“It’s what I will be doing once I get out of this bed.”
“I am glad to hear you say that. And I would not have you killed. I have other ways of showing my displeasure.” He glanced at Rhiana and smiled again. There was no warmth at all in his expression. “I have a long memory, Sir Kormak, and a longer reach. You would do well to remember that.”
“I will remember you said it,” Kormak said.
“Good. I do not mind admitting we need your help. There is a shape shifting monster loose in the royal palace and you are best qualified to deal with it.”
He made his way to the door and closed it behind him as he left.
“You don’t go out of your way to make friends, do you?” Rhiana said. She sounded almost admiring.
“His sort annoy me,” Kormak said. The physician looked as if he wanted to cover his ears. Kormak pulled himself out of the bed ignoring the pain in his chest. “Make me a draft of one part morphea to ten parts witchbane to one hundred parts water,” he said. “I want it within the hour.”
The physician’s jaws tightened. He did not like his patients telling him what to do. “You heard what Prince Taran said. He wants me on my feet as soon as possible.”
The physician decided not to argue.
“What do you intend to do,” Rhiana asked.
“There are questions I need to ask and the sooner I start the better.”
***
Kormak entered, the council chamber, a large room deep within the Palace. Guards in immaculate uniform stood at attention outside the doors. Around a massive table of polished oak huddled the most powerful men in the realm of Siderea.
King Aemon leaned over the head of the table, studying a map of the catacombs beneath the palace. On it sat polished rune inscribed stone markers. The map looked newly inked on fresh parchment, a copy of an older document too valuable to be pressed into service in such a way.
“It seems we have a number of reported sightings of the Beast,” Aemon said, touching first one of the stone markers then another. “How likely is it that they are all accurate?”
“Not at all,” Prince Taran said. “People are scared, brother. They jump at their own shadows. Rumours swirl around the palace like clouds around the peak of Mount Zahan.”
“We can hardly blame people for being scared. The creature killed a score of armed men and escaped from the most closely guarded vault in the realm. It nearly killed me and a Guardian of the Order of the Dawn.”
Aemon stood up and turned to gaze at the portrait of his father on the wall. King Varlan did not look much
like his sons. He was a big, fleshy man with a red face. His hanging jowls and the pouches beneath his eyes spoke of grosser appetites. His eyes were the same though and something about the shape of the chin reminded Kormak of Aemon and his brother.
Duke Leone pushed his chair back and listened as if this was the first confirmation he had received from a reliable source about events in the vault. “What is the thing? And why is it here now?”
King Aemon looked at Kormak. The Guardian limped over to the table. His wounds pained him despite the healing the King had given him and the potions of the royal physician. He felt groggy from the after-effects. “It was an Old One,” Kormak said. “It was too strong and too fast and shifted shape too easily to be anything else.”
“Impossible,” Leone said. “We are beneath the light of a sunstone, within a palace warded against all such intrusions.”
Aemon’s expression was mild. He did not look at the Duke when he spoke. “The sunstone’s rays do not penetrate stone walls and every defence has a weak spot. It may be that someone has discovered ours.”
“I believe the creature entered in a sarcophagus delivered by the treasure fleet,” Kormak said.
“Are you sure?” asked Admiral Lorca. He was a brawny man with silver hair cut short and a well-trimmed silver beard. His voice had a rough note to it, as if hoarsened by years of bellowing orders across a ship’s deck.
“The coffin was disturbed when we entered the chamber. It seems the most likely source of the problem. It was open. It was the right size. It had been closed with binding runes. A trail of blood led from it to where we found the chancellor’s body.” He listed each point slowly and firmly.
“Accepted, Sir Kormak,” said Duke Leone. Admiral Lorca’s eyes narrowed. He clearly did not want to accept this. After all his fleet had delivered the sarcophagus and he was, ultimately, the individual who might have to take the blame.
“The question is why would anyone send such a beast to the Palace Imperial and unleash it here.” Duke Leone said.
