Night of the Daemon

by Aaron Rosemberg

  'We drink,' she told him, her voice once more tinged with command, and he accepted one of the goblets from her. They both raised them in a silent toast and sipped, and Alaric was pleased to find that he was drinking an excellent wine. Whatever else might be said of her, Fatandira was a gracious hostess.

  A platter by the side of the brazier was laden with food, olives and dates, and cheeses and soft flat bread. Metal spits lay across the fire, roasting delicately spiced meat. They ate, wrapping the meat within the bread, and drank more wine, conversing about this and that. Fatandira was an interesting woman and held a wealth of information about these lands and their people. She told him of their surroundings and in return Alaric told her of some of his travels.

  You have experience with servants of the Dark Gods,' she noted after he had given her an abbreviated version of their

  encounters with the Chaos statues. 'That will be most useful.'

  'Oh?' Alaric felt a warning prickle at the back of his neck. 'Why?'

  'Soon we ride against them.' Fatandira explained, shifting instantly from woman to commander. Even her posture changed, becoming straighter, bolder. 'The town of Vitrolle.' she said, 'they nest within it, like poisonous snakes, and from there they attack travellers and traders, and anyone foolish enough to cross their path.'

  Alaric remembered what Enbar and the other adventurers had said of the place. 'It is by the split in the Howling River, is that right?'

  'Yes.' She glanced at him, clearly wondering how he had known that.

  'Some travellers we met warned us to avoid it.' he explained.

  'They were among the lucky ones.' Fatandira replied, 'for few who pass close to that place survive.' She scowled. 'They sit upon my lands, for all that lies between the mountains and the forks of the river is my domain. They prey upon my people. They must perish!' Her hands had bunched into fists and Alaric noticed the heavy muscles along her upper arms. This woman could snap him in half.

  'The town holds treasures as well/ she added, suddenly surprisingly coy. 'It is rumoured the cultists have amassed a great fortune there, both money taken from their victims and wealth they brought with them when they arrived. I have heard stories of a sceptre carved from jade, worth more than all our weapons and horses together. With such wealth I could hire more men, equip them, and drive off my rivals once and for all!'

  She turned back towards Alaric, leaning towards him. He couldn't help noticing how her vest dipped severely in front and suddenly found himself sweating. 'You could accompany me/ she said, her voice going throaty, her posture shifting again. Once more she was all woman. 'You could ride at my side. With your knowledge and my might

  we could dispose of these cultists. Then we might have time for... other activities.'

  Alaric was taken aback. He had expected an evening of pleasantries, perhaps even flirtations, not this suggestion of more physical involvement. It didn't sound as if she was talking about a brief tryst, either, but about something more extended, months if not years at her side! His first impulse was to flee but then he reminded himself where he was and who he was with. If he spurned her so callously his life might be short indeed.

  'That is a most generous and enticing offer,' he began slowly, 'and were I free to choose I would be honoured to stay beside you, but my life is not my own to give.'

  You are indebted to someone?' Her dark eyes flashed. Tell me his name and I will kill him for you.'

  'Ah, no,' he back-pedalled quickly, 'no, I am not indebted. No, what I meant was, that I am bound to a higher purpose and cannot deviate from it, not even for such pleasures.'

  Her gaze narrowed. 'You are no fanatic,' she accused. 'I have seen many such, and you lack their religious fervour.'

  That made him laugh. 'No,' Alaric agreed, 'I am not religious, although I do respect the gods and even call upon them in need. My purpose is not tied to one of them, however, at least, not specifically. I spoke to you of the statues we found, and the evil that lay behind them, waiting to emerge?' Fatandira nodded. 'It is that evil I have pledged to stop. That is why I seek the gauntlet. I must prevent evil from using that artefact to enter our world.' Something else occurred to him. 'We share a common interest in fact. Both of us wish to see such influences removed from your lands. You seek to destroy that town and its inhabitants, while I seek to remove the gauntlet. The result is the same, to drive the taint from your realm.'

  'So you will destroy this gauntlet, and after that you will be free to return?' Fatandira asked bluntly.

  Alaric frowned. 'I would say yes, but something tells me otherwise. I think there is more waiting for me. There is the

  mask I mentioned, and I am sure that also plays a part here.' He shrugged. 'I do not know when this quest will end, only that I must continue it. I am caught up in this evil's plans and must foil them or the world will perish.' Although he had initially mentioned the quest as an excuse, the more he spoke of it the more Alaric realised the truth behind his words. He really was caught up in the daemon's attempts to enter this world, and somehow it had fallen to him - and to Dietz - to stop the Chaos creature's plans.

  'So you refuse my offer?' The words were soft but made of steel, and he could see from her face and her pose that woman and commander both spoke, and both were angry.

  'I have no choice,' he said. '1 must continue my mission. It takes precedence over all other interests, and my feelings are insignificant beside it.'

  Fatandira glared at him for an instant, and then turned away with a huff. Very well. Leave me, at once!' She lashed out with one hand, knocking the pitcher to the floor, dark wine spilling out and seeping into the rugs and cushions.

  'I am sorry, my lady,' Alaric told her, and a part of him was. She was a fine woman, and he could imagine how desperately lonely she must be. She had to be a commander here and nothing more. She could never dally with any of her subjects, not without losing their respect. An outsider like him was her only chance at romance, and he had spurned her, as politely as he could, but it was still a rejection. He bowed and left, moving quickly but without hurry, trying to ignore the shiver in his back as he half-anticipated a blow from behind. Nothing happened and he exited the tent, walking quickly to the tent that Dietz and Lankdorf shared.

  'Get up,' he said as soon as he'd entered. Dietz was there, laying back on his bedroll, Glouste curled contentedly on his chest. The older man was smoking a pipe and lazily scratching the tree-fox, but he sat up as soon as he saw Alaric.

  'That bad, eh?' was all he asked.

  'We're leaving,' Alaric replied. 'Gather what you can.' He glanced around. 'Where's Lankdorf?'

  'No idea.' Dietz shrugged. 'Does it matter?'

  Alaric frowned. 'I don't know that it's safe for any of us to stay,' he said, 'and I would feel responsible if he suffered from my actions.'

  'What'd you do, laugh at her?' Dietz asked. He was already up and rolling the bedroll, Glouste in place across his shoulders.

  'She asked me to stay with her,' Alaric replied. '1 turned her down.'

  'Sigmar's beard, you do inspire them,' his friend said. He shoved a few things in his pack and hoisted it. 'Ready.'

  'Good.' Alaric turned and found himself face to face with one of Fatandira's guards.

  'You will leave in the morning,' the guard said to both of them. He thrust a scrap of parchment at them. It had the horse image Alaric had seen on the shields crudely burned into it. 'This will allow you to pass through these lands unmolested.' Then the guard was gone.

  'Well,' Dietz said, dropping his pack and collapsing back onto his bedroll, 'at least we can get a night's sleep before they kill us.'

  'Ha ha.' Alaric dropped onto the other bedroll and, despite his concerns, was soon fast asleep.

  THE NEXT MORNING a guard roused them at dawn. Several more warriors stood outside the tents, spears in hand, but at least the points were not levelled at them.

  Alaric and Dietz were escorted back to the command tent and led inside. Lankdorf was already there.
/>   'What's all this?' the bounty hunter asked as they joined him before the tall wooden chair that Fatandira used as a mobile throne.

  'Alaric refused her,' Dietz explained quietly.

  'What? You idiot!' Lankdorf snapped.

  You sleep with her, then,' Alaric snapped back. 'We can't stay here.'

  Whatever the bounty hunter had meant to reply faded from his lips, as Fatandira entered and took her seat before them. The woman was completely masked again. She was in her customary mail, her hair bound back, every inch the ruler once more. Only he thought he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes.

  'You have saved my life and revealed a traitor among us,' she announced without preamble. 'For that you may go. Keep your pass close at hand, for you will need it whenever you encounter one of my guard patrols. My men will escort you beyond our camp, and your weapons will be returned to you there.' She glanced at Alaric. 'Return and you will die.' Alaric opened his mouth to speak but she gestured with a hand and guards appeared at his side. They motioned with their spears and he turned away, knowing that she did not want to hear whatever he had been about to say.

  Outside the command tent Lankdorf was handed his pack, and his mule was led to him, its saddlebags already in place. Alaric's pack had been brought as well, and he could tell it was heavier than it had been, although he did not have time to inspect its contents. Once they were equipped the guards led them through the camp. They marched for two hours without a word. Then the guards suddenly stopped.

  'Go,' one of them said, and tossed a bundle onto the ground. Dietz was closest to it and managed to reach it before Lankdorf, giving the other man a grin as he straightened. The clank of metal suggested it was their weapons.

  'Thank you,' Alaric told the guards, who were already turning away, 'and tell your ruler we are truly grateful for her hospitality.' The men were already marching back and he wondered if they'd heard him, and if they would bother to relay his message. Not that it mattered. He suspected that he was the last person Fatandira would want to hear from.

  After the warriors had disappeared over a low rise, Dietz opened the bundle. He handed Alaric his rapier and dagger

  and restored his knives to their sheaths, lifting out his mace as well. Then he-tossed Lankdorf his sword and daggers.

  "What about the crossbow?' the bounty hunter asked, as he belted his weapons back into place.

  Dietz cocked his head, studying their companion. 'I'm not so sure I want that thing pointed my way again,' he said softly.

  'We have a deal,' Lankdorf reminded him. 'I get these' - he tapped the sack at his side, which clinked - 'and any money we get from that gauntlet, and I don't pursue the price on your head.'

  'That makes us partners,' Dietz pointed out.

  That's right.'

  'So I'll carry this for you, partner,' Dietz said, shouldering the crossbow.

  Lankdorf scowled for a second, and then nodded.

  'Fine.' He felt for the sling at his belt. 'Better we both have range, anyway.'

  Alaric had checked his pack during this exchange, and was surprised and pleased by what he found. Fatandira had provided food, water and wine, and had given him a fresh set of clothes as well. His own shirt had been carved into bandages when he'd been injured, but Estia had found him one when he'd been allowed to leave the sickbed, and that was here as well, along with his trousers. Even when she had been angry Fatandira had proved generous.

  His companions had provisions as well, and they were in excellent shape as they gathered their gear and prepared to move out.

  'We should circle down to the south,' Lankdorf told them as they walked. 'That was the direction of the boot prints.'

  Alaric nodded. Levrellian was to the north and the mountains were to the east. Rorschach probably did not work for Levrellian, which meant he would have to head either south or west, and if his footprints were heading south, that was good enough for him. He shouldered the bag.

  'Let's go,' he said. 'I'd feel safer if we put a little more distance between us and the camp, anyway.' He knew from the stories he'd read - and a few of the ones Dietz had told him - that a woman scorned could have a very long reach.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THEY CAMPED THAT night, locating a small clearing in the forest once they were too tired to continue, and rose again at dawn to renew the search. Lankdorf had followed Rorschach's boot prints to the edge of Fatandira's camp the first day after the attack and knew roughly which direction to follow, assuming the treacherous guard had not deviated once he'd fled.

  'How did you know?' Dietz asked as they walked. His question was directed to the bounty hunter, who was on his left. Alaric was on his right, whistling as he walked and grinning as the sun touched his face and the light breeze stirred his fair hair. Dietz was glad to see his friend looking cheerful. The younger man had looked almost mournful last night. Dietz found it both amusing and comforting that the young nobleman felt such sympathy towards a woman who had tried to seduce him and failed. It proved yet again that his young friend had a good heart, even if it was easily bruised.

  'Know what?' Lankdorf asked, his eyes intent upon the ground.

  'Rorschach.' Dietz said. 'You knew he was dangerous.'

  'Did you?' Alaric glanced over. 'I hadn't noticed.' He stared off into space, clearly thinking back to that night. 'You did respond quickly when he attacked,' he agreed after a moment.

  'He was mumbling,' Lankdorf replied.

  'Mumbling?'

  'When he came back in with Hammlich, he was mumbling,' the bounty hunter explained. 'I heard him. It sounded like a prayer to Sigmar, and that didn't make any sense.' Dietz nodded. Fatandira was too Arabyan to approve of the Empire's principal god, and most of her people seemed to have the same heritage. 'So I kept an eye on him,' Lankdorf finished.

  'Good thing you did,' Dietz commented.

  The bounty hunter nodded, and then dropped to one knee. 'Aha! Gotcha!' He pointed at the ground and Dietz could see a depression there: Rorschach's boot print. 'Good thing it hasn't rained these past few nights,' Lankdorf said, standing again. 'The ground was damp enough to hold his print and dried around it afterwards, and he was walking off to one side, whereas the riders stick to the middle of the path.' He checked the ground a few paces to the south and nodded. 'He went this way.'

  They followed the tracks, which eventually led them to a break in the forest. A short stretch of tall grass filled the gap between the trees and a wide, deep river. Dietz suspected it was the southern branch of the Howling River, given what he remembered of Alaric's map, and the strange whistling sound, almost like moaning, that rose from the water as it rushed by. Dietz could see a similar landscape on the far side. A wide furrow had been scraped in the shore not far from where they stood, and the boot prints were heavier beside it.

  'A boat,' Lankdorf said, confirming Dietz's own guess. 'He pushed off from here and went across.'

  Alaric peered across the water. 'I don't see anything.' the young nobleman said after a minute. 'He must have hidden it once he reached the bank.'

  'How do we get across?' Dietz asked, shuddering slightly. He hated water.

  'Do you have a boat?' the bounty hunter asked him.

  'No.'

  'Then we swim.' Lankdorf said with a grin.

  They tied their weapons and packs atop the mule and struck out into the cold water. Fortunately the current was not too strong, strong enough to tug them off-course but not strong enough to sweep them uncontrollably downriver. Dietz had never been much of a swimmer - Middenheim had no rivers - but he could tread water and he clutched the mule's saddlebags, letting the animal pull him along. Lankdorf held the mule's lead as he swam, and Alaric took to the water like a fish, moving rapidly and gracefully to the far side despite his recent injury. By the time Dietz pulled himself out of the water Alaric had lit a fire, and he collapsed gratefully next to it, letting the heat stop his shivers.

  Lankdorf had suggested removing all but their breeches before entering the
water, which meant they had dry shirts, socks and boots to wear. He and Alaric had spare trousers as well, but Dietz had only the one pair - the rest of his clothing had been on their horse and had vanished into Zenres - so he was stuck in sopping-wet breeches until they finally dried. He distracted himself by cooking some soup over the fire, which both kept him near the flames and gave them all something warm to overcome the chills. While he cooked Lankdorf scouted the shore.

  'Found the boat.' the bounty hunter said when he returned a short while later, 'hidden over there, behind some bushes.'

  'Well, at least we won't have to swim back.' Dietz muttered.

  'Tracks lead south and west.' Lankdorf continued, ignoring the remark, 'still nice and clear. They shouldn't be hard to follow.'

  After they'd eaten they did just that, the bounty hunter taking the lead again. Since reaching Fatandira's camp he and Dietz had spent some time together, and although he still didn't entirely trust the bounty hunter, Dietz admitted to himself that the man was a good travelling companion. He was quiet and competent, and very efficient. Lankdorf was also an excellent hunter, and had proven as skilled with the sling as he had been with the crossbow, bringing down a bird one night and a fleeing rabbit another. The man had a sense of humour, too, even though he kept it well hidden. Dietz also suspected that Lankdorf was still uncomfortable with their changed status, and was still adjusting to the notion of him and Alaric as companions rather than captives. The more time they spent together however, the more accustomed they became to one another and the more easily they worked as a team.

  The tracks led them across a shallow valley and then up a small hill. As they walked, Alaric sidled up to Dietz.

  'Where do you think we're going?' he asked. 'I mean, where do you think this Rorschach fellow was heading?'

  Then they topped the rise.