by William King
“What if I can’t?”
“I rely on your ingenuity, Rik. You have demonstrated it before.”
“If you will forgive me for saying so, it’s not much of a plan.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s the best I can do.” She gave him a look full of sorrow and pity and desperation. The mask had slipped and he suddenly saw exactly how desperate she was that she should contemplate this. She had helped break an empire and now she was forced to rely on a half-breed boy to save everything she had helped build. If they failed here she would lose more than her life’s work. She would lose her life.
Then again, at this moment, she was not risking very much, only his life. He had already been furnished with ample proof that the Terrarch Lords of the world did not consider it worth a great deal.
Once more, his thoughts turned to escape. If what she said about his bloodline was true, he would be very difficult for them to find, if he could get out of their sight. Then again, he would be a stranger in a war torn land, an enemy to both sides, with no friends and no resources. He told himself that was a position he had been in before but that did not make things look any better.
“Tell me more of these Shadowblood, were they truly undetectable? Was there no way to find them by sorcery?” She smiled almost as if she was reading his thoughts.
“There are always ways, if you have the tools.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I had a lock of your hair, or a sample of your blood or anything else intimately connected with you, I could find you.”
“How?”
“There are creatures of the aether, demons if you will, who have senses of what- for want of a better word — we will call smell, a thousand times keener than a bloodhound. With something to trace, they can find anything.”
“Why did you not use them on Al’Terra?”
“We did. And sometimes they worked. And sometimes they were baffled by more powerful sorcery. We were not the only ones who used magic, Rik. Rest assured, wherever you go I can find you.”
He thought back to the lock of hair she had taken back in the tent. “You lied to me,” he said.
“No, Rik, I just did not tell you the entire truth. I will destroy the lock when it is no longer needed.” He felt angry and foolish, but realised that anger would do him no good in this place at this time. He needed to get himself under control if he was going to survive. “What can you do to help me on this mission?”
“I can provide you with maps of the Tower’s interior. I can even provide you with a guard’s uniform. I can provide you with some unusual weapons as well.”
That sounded more promising. “What can you give me? Magical weapons?”
“No. Those would be noticed by the guardians. Such weapons have auras just like any living things. They are imbued with magical energy. I can give you poisons…”
“What do you want me to do — poison the water supply?”
“No, I will give you magebane, which is extremely painful to anyone using magic, and I will give you drugs that will heighten your speed and strength.”
“I will need those.”
“There is one thing, Rik. If the opportunity should arise to acquire the glowing necklace that Ilmarec wears on his neck, take it. All the sorcerous defences of the Tower are tied to it. Given time, I could make good use of it.”
“I’m sure he will notice if I take his amulet.”
“Not if he is dead. That would solve a number of our problems.”
“You are saying that if the opportunity should arise, I am to kill Ilmarec.”
“You are a soldier. He is the enemy.”
“He is a Terrarch Lord. I am a human. Burning at the stake is the penalty for such a killing.”
“Not under the circumstances. This is war.”
“His retainers might, if they catch me.”
“Then best see that you are not caught.”
Rik glared at her. He could not help but feel that he was being bundled off on a suicide mission. If he succeeded Asea would grab most of the glory, for it would be her spells that protected him, or so she would claim, and he was in no position to contest that. If he failed, she would still be safe in this mansion, a rich wealthy Terrarch lady. As he had always been his whole life, he was trapped and in the power of the world’s rulers. He did not really have a say in what was going on. The best he could hope to do was sneak away, and even then he knew that, if ever they caught up with him, the penalties would be grave.
“You are looking very thoughtful,” she said.
“I am merely contemplating my chances of success,” he said. “They are not good are they?”
“No,” she agreed. “They are not.”
“Is there anything I can do to improve them?”
“You could try prayer.”
He looked at her, not sure if she was entirely serious.
“How are we to acquire a cart?” he said.
“There is a man who will help you. He is a power among the thieves in this city. I believe you have already made his acquaintance. His name is Black Tomar.”
Rik kept his face impassive. What was the connection between Asea and the local gang boss? “Why should he help us?”
“Because he will, believe me,” she said. Rik suppressed a shiver. He wondered how much contact Asea had with Tomar, whether he knew of what had happened- what had been said- with Tamara the other night.
Asea smiled almost as if she were reading his thoughts. “Give him this coin. He will know you are my messenger.”
She placed an ancient gold coin on the table. Rik picked it up and inspected it. It was a very old one, its face almost worn away; someone had indented a strange pattern on its edge, he could feel it with his finger. Rik slipped it into his pocket.
“Anything else?”
“You should be very careful, Rik, about who you talk to and what you say,” Asea said. There was a strange edge to her smile. How much did she know, he wondered?
Rik stamped the mud from his boots, wiped the rain from his forehead and followed Weasel and the Barbarian into the Snake’s Head. He cursed the weather, and he cursed the strange light from the Tower even though it lit the gloomy streets. There was something about that hellish glow that made the space between his shoulder blades crawl.
The tavern was full of worried-looking men and the kind of swift coming and going common in thieves’ haunts in times of unrest. There were a lot of opportunities out there right now. The knowledge made Rik’s fingers tingle and he felt almost tempted to go out and join in the looting.
Instead he worked his way up to the bar, behind Weasel and the Barbarian. A big, craggy-looking man greeted them with a raised finger to the barman. Three drinks were swiftly poured and placed in front of them. From this Rik deduced the man was Black Tomar, the owner, who Weasel had come to do business with the other night. He glanced around half-hoping to see Tamara, but there was absolutely no sign of her. He wondered if he would ever see her again. He pushed the thought aside; now was the time to be about Lady Asea’s business.
“Good evening,” Tomar said by way of greeting. His eyes flickered over Rik with more than casual interest. It was swiftly done but he was aware of the scrutiny nonetheless.
“Greetings, matey,” said Weasel in his most open, peasant manner, always a sign that he was most on guard.
“I am surprised to see you on a night like tonight,” said Tomar. “I thought you would be inside the House of Three Swans or maybe even still up at the Tower with Lord Ilmarec.”
“So you know about that then?” said Weasel.
“Hard not to notice when you see a company of foreign soldiers go up Snake Road.”
“I suppose so,” said Weasel. “You thought any about what we talked about last night?”
“Yes. You can tell the Quartermaster his reputation precedes him, and I’ll be happy to do business with him.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Weasel. Tomar gestured them over to a quiet alcove,
a place where he could watch business go on around him but could not be overlooked or overheard.
“To tell the truth,” he said, which Rik always assumed was a sign that the speaker was going to do anything but. “I’m glad to help. I’ve never been keen on the Purples- what man could be? The Scarlets have always been better for our sort, even if not by much.”
Rik revised his opinion. That seemed an eminently sensible statement. Perhaps Asea was right about this man after all. He certainly hoped she was. Weasel nodded and said; “Aye, not by much, but by enough.”
“Your Lords are not the only ones Ilmarec has been talking with. That strutting ponce, Jaderac has been up in the Snake Tower, and so has his little girlfriend, the one who likes to hang out in bars and pick up soldiers.” He nodded at Rik at this point.
“Likes a bit of rough, does she?” asked the Barbarian with a leer. “I wondered where you had got to the other night.”
He gave Rik a look that was half appraising and half admiring. “Wish I knew what your secret was with the ladies, Halfbreed.”
“Charm,” said Rik. “Not something you would know anything about.”
“What’s this about the Easterners being up in the Tower,” Weasel asked.
“They come and go with a bit less pomp than your Lady Asea, but they’ve been up there a few times.”
“Sure?” asked Weasel.
“As this tavern is the Snake’s Head.” It did not surprise Rik. The Terrarchs were political animals. It seemed only normal that Ilmarec would play both ends against the middle.
“Any idea what they talk about?”
“None at all. It’s hard to get men inside the Snake Tower on a regular basis. They tend to disappear. Old Ilmarec is a sorcerer- who knows what he is capable of — and then there are those gargoyles on the walls. They put the fear of the Shadow into my mind I can tell you.”
“You mean those things above the gates?” Rik asked.
“Aye, lad. Never met a man yet they did not spook.” The looks on the faces of the Barbarian and Weasel told him they agreed. He wondered what he had missed and how he had missed it. Maybe Asea was right about his background, or maybe it was something else entirely. There was no way of telling.
“Now supposing we wanted to get somebody through those gates,” said Weasel.
“Can’t be done. The Guardians spot everybody.”
“What about cart drivers?”
“They are counted in and counted out. All of them are regulars too, known to the guards. You are surely not serious about this.”
“Lady Asea said I should give you this,” said Rik suddenly. He took the gold piece from his pocket. Tomar smiled at the glint of gold but a strange look came over his face when he looked closer at the coin. Rik noticed him running his thumb over the edge where the indentations were. A glance told him that Weasel and the Barbarian had noticed all of this too.
“So the time has come, has it?” said Tomar.
“Yes,” said Rik, although he was not sure what the big man meant.
“This coin pays for all,” he said. “Then all the old debts are settled. Tell her Ladyship that.”
“I will. Now, assuming the Guardians of the Gate can be bypassed, is there any way into the Castle.”
“There’s always a way when you want something smuggled into or out of a place,” said Tomar. “Even the Tower.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Rik.
“There’s a catch,” said Tomar.
“What’s that?”
“Stuff can be smuggled in. Providing it’s not alive.”
“Great,” said Rik sardonically. “Tell me more.”
“Before I do, there is something else I should tell you about Lord Jaderac.”
“What about his high and mightiness?” Weasel asked.
“His servants talk- well they always do, don’t they? I reckon he is planning something against your lot soon. The servants are in fear of their lives and there’s tales of all manner of spooky stuff going on in that mansion.”
“Tell us more…”
“They say he has coffins in there — the eastern type- sarcophaguses they call them. They say he sleeps in one but I reckon that’s just talk, although you can never tell with some of the easterners.”
“What has that to do with the Lady Asea?” Rik asked.
“One of the girls overheard them talking, Jaderac and his bint, and he was saying he had something special in one of his coffins that would deal even with the great Lady Asea. The girl was scared near to death by the way they were talking. She refuses to go back to the house.”
“Just tittle-tattle,” said Weasel.
“Might be,” said Tomar. “I am just telling you what I heard, but Kara is a hill-girl and she does not frighten easily.”
“If you say so,” said Weasel. He looked at Rik. There was a question in his glance. He seemed to be looking to Rik for a cue.
“So shall we talk about how to get into the Tower?” Tomar asked. “I can get you drivers and we have a special cart that’s sometimes used to take stuff in. Impossible to get men in though. The demon always spots them.”
“There may be a way to deal with that.”
“Care to tell me how?”
Rik shook his head. “Tomorrow. We’d best be getting back. I suppose we’ll need to warn her Ladyship about this sorcerer.”
“It might be nothing,” said Tomar.
“It might be everything,” said Rik. “We’d better go.”
Already he felt uneasy, as if something might be waiting for them, outside in the dark.
Chapter Seventeen
“What is it?” Lady Asea asked, seeing his grim expression as Rik entered the chamber. He told her what the gang boss had said about Jaderac’s sorcery. She listened intently and said; “I suppose it’s only to be expected.”
“What do you intend to do about it?”
“There is not a great deal more I can do,” she said. “There are already wards and sentries in place. I have prepared my weapons and armour.” She gestured towards her travelling chests.
He noticed how tired she looked, and also a little hopeless, truth be told. He wondered what was wrong with her. He had never seen her like this before. He asked.
“It is the Tower, Rik,” she said. “It is possessed of a dark magic that oppresses me.”
“You could leave here.”
“And go back to the army?”
“Yes.”
“That would leave Jaderac in possession of the field and in a position to do what he wants unopposed. Besides, I am not without sorcerous resources myself.”
“All this talk of murderous magic unsettles me,” Rik said.
“That is understandable. However there is something else I want you to think about.”
“What would that be?”
She produced a set of maps from within one of her travelling chests. “These are maps of the interior of the Serpent Tower. Can you memorise them?”
Rik had memorised the plans of many mansions when he had been a burglar back in Sorrow. These were more complex than any he had committed to memory back then, but he knew that, if he was to have any chance of survival, he was going to need to learn them.
“I can try,” he said.
She gestured with her hand. “You can begin now.”
He looked at the maps. There were certain areas that indicated doorways, but there was nothing marked on the map beyond them.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“They were sealed ways. Ancient runes marked with Serpent Man Elder Signs blocked the way. It was thought that they could not be opened…”
“Thought?”
“I suspect Ilmarec found the key. It may have something to do with his new found power.”
“But you have no idea what was within?”
“We always suspected something was buried there.”
Rik thought of Uran Ultar and his people lodged deep in the darkness beneath Achenar.
&
nbsp; “It’s a strange coincidence that Ilmarec should find the key to that even as the Spider God woke,” said Rik.
“It may be no coincidence.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we are entering a new age of the world, Rik. I think old powers are stirring.”
“Why now?”
“I would give a lot to know the answer to that myself.”
Tonight was the night, Jaderac thought. The signal had come from his agent in the House of Three Swans. The half-breed youth had returned from the taverns and was in Asea’s chambers. There could be no mistake about that. His agent knew too well the price of failure. Tonight, once and for all, he would rid the Empire of one of its most dangerous enemies, and he would do it with her own weapon: with sorcery. Tonight Lady Asea of the First would die.
It would not be easy. Jaderac knew better than to delude himself about that. The Witch of the West was an even more formidable sorcerer than old Ilmarec and that was saying something. Most of the younger generation thought the First were merely second-rate wizards with first-rate reputations. Jaderac was not one to make that mistake. He knew exactly how competent Asea was. Fortunately she had not realised how far his own studies had come on since their last meeting. He was her equal now, perhaps even her superior- as tonight would prove.
He glanced around the laboratory. Tamara watched him like a cat, lazily but with a concealed, dangerous attention.
“I would not go out tonight if I were you. The streets will be dangerous.”
“You are ready to perform your ritual then.”
“The signal has been given. Tonight Lady Asea will die.”
“You seem very certain of that.”
“I have reason to be.” He gestured at the intricate mass of pipes and necro-mechanical arcanery, part flesh, part glass, part metal. Red blood pumped through the tubing connecting the flaccid still-living bodies to the great sarcophagus. Inside the coffin his creation stirred. He could feel it.
Tamara smiled at him. “You’ve really done it?”
He nodded. “It is ready to emerge from its chrysophagus.”
He untightened the screws that held the metal lid in place and slid it off to reveal the creature within. It looked like a very large man, hairless, grey-skinned. Its face was noseless like a skull. Instead of fingernails, it had talons. When its eyes opened they were a startling bloody red. The thing threw itself forward but the spells and the metal restraints held it — just. It opened its mouth and let out a hiss. Long fangs showed in its mouth. The blood from the kidnapped men continued to pump into its flesh. It seemed to grow larger and stronger as it did so, like a wineskin slowly being filled with fluid.
