Michael A. Stackpole

by A Hero Born

  I shook my head. “Again, forgive me, but we have a link being forged where none is warranted. Warder llltyd has said the Fistfire Sceptre is an item of great power all by itself. If it is comparable to the display of power put on by Lord Disaster during the ball, it must be capable of unbelievable things. We have seen it as the antidote to anything Lord Disaster may do with the Staff of Emeterio, but how would the Bharashadi see it? To what use could a Bharashadi sorcerer put it?”

  The Emperor paled. In one voice with the Warlord he whispered, “The Necroleum.”

  “What?”

  Thetys drew in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly while color returned to his face. “How much do you really know about Chaos demons, Lachlan?”

  I blushed. “Each moment I’m finding out I know less and less.”

  That brought the hint of a smile to the Emperor’s face and brief chuckles from the others. “It’s time you learned more. The Chademons all have special abilities which, it is said, they obtained from their patron deities. The Storm demons, for example, are able to warp local weather to their own desires and can bring lightning and thunder or freezing rains down upon their foes. Flame demons burn with an unquenchable fire that does not consume them. The catalog of known tribes and abilities is huge and as bizarre as you might expect of anything originating in Chaos.”

  “I’d heard something like that from my grandfather, but nothing about the Black Shadows.” I nodded. “I take it this Necroleum is connected with the Bharasfiadi power?”

  Thetys shrugged stiffly. “What we know of it is rumor only and treacherously unreliable at that. Some information came from a report of something a fevered Chaos Rider said though other Rider’s efforts have lent a lot of weight to the report.”

  The Emperor seated himself in a chair and bade me sit as well. “The Bharasfiadi covenant with their god has strict limits, much akin to those you have discussed concerning spells. When a Black Shadow falls in combat, if it is at all possible, he is brought to a hidden place called the Necroleum. There a whole caste of funereal attendants deal with him. If he has been cut up, they sew him back together, if bones have been broken, they are set as best as possible. If limbs have been hacked off, they are reattached. If, at the end of this processing, his body is complete, he is placed in the deepest caverns of the Necroleum to await resurrection.”

  I shivered. The very idea of some stinking hole in the ground stuffed full of mouldering Bfiarasfiadi corpses in various states of repair made my flesh crawl. The idea that they could be resurrected didn’t help at all with that feeling. “The bodies must be whole for resurrection?”

  “As we understand it, yes.” The Emperor nodded solemnly. “If one of our soldiers took a scalp, for example, that Bfiarasfiadi would be incomplete and find himself outside the covenant with his god.”

  “Unless the scalp could be returned to him?” I asked.

  “I believe so.” Thetys rubbed the palms of his hands one against the other. “Through a ritual specified by the god, using any of a number of items safely hidden beyond the Ward Walls, the complete Bfiarasfiadi warriors can be recalled from death.”

  The Warlord nodded his head in accordance with the Emperor’s words. “Given the rate of reproduction and death rates of the Bharasfiadi, it is estimated they would have over one hundred thousand warriors waiting to be recalled. The Bharasfiadi are fierce in combat because they know they will be revivified some day. They believe their rank in the new society they will form will be determined by how bravely they acquitted themselves when they died. The greatest of their leaders will become their supreme commander, and the leading contender for that spot right now would be Kothvir.”

  A hundred thousand Black Shadows, all being led by my father’s mortal enemy] I stared at the Warlord. “And you believe the Fistfire Sceptre is sufficient to help trigger this resurrection?”

  “That and possibly enough to bring a portion of the Ward Walls down to let them invade the Empire.” Gam Drustorn looked at the assembled nobles. “We will, of course, assemble a host and move to oppose the Bharashadi in Chaos. If we are lucky, we will be able to entice other Chademon tribes likewise to attack the Black Shadows.”

  Grand Duke Ijegron’s chair creaked as he sat back. “I would hope we had more than luck to count on in enlisting other Chademon tribes to our cause.”

  Kozor Goll shook his head. “Though opposing the Black Shadows might be in their best interest, the power to bring down the Ward Walls might be enough to allow Kothvir to forge them into one force that will sweep down over us. I think we can only count on ourselves, which is why taking the battle to Chaos will be important.”

  “Wait a minute.” I held up my hands and looked at the quartz column displaying a vision of Chaos. “Raising an army sufficient to defend the Empire will take time, especially during the winter. You have the model. Why not use it to plan a quick raid on the

  Necroleum and destroy it before this Bharashadi sorcerer can resurrect the demons?”

  The Emperor gave me a wan smile. “Would that the action were so easy as the words. The major problem is that no one knows where the Necroleum is located.”

  I pointed at the crystal. “Yes, the model might not show us where it is, but it can identify where it is not. That limits the search area. Through a process of elimination, we can finally locate it and go after it.”

  “Agreed, which is what we will have to do, but that is the easiest part of this whole operation.” Thetys sat forward in his chair. “Remember, Lord Disaster possesses the one item capable of destroying the sceptre.”

  “True, but as much as Lord Disaster hates the Empire and wants to destroy it, I am certain he will not want the Bharashadi usurping his prerogatives in conquering it.” 1 opened my hands. “It may be hopeless, and it may be a fool’s errand, but it is worth the try.”

  “I agree, Lachlan, that it is.” The Emperor’s head came up. “That is the reason your cousin is out gathering his patrol. Within a week you and he, and whomever you choose to accompany you, will go into Chaos to get the Staff of Emeterio, find the Necroleum, and destroy it.”

  16

  H

  ard on the heels of the Emperor’s stunning announcement came word that the servant the Emperor had dispatched to find me some clothing had succeeded in his task. The Journeyman magicker who passed that information to Illtyd was charged with the duty of leading me from the viewing room to a place where I could dress myself in private. 1 trailed after him out to the head of the stairs leading down, and he gave me directions to follow from there.

  i think it was a good thing for me to be sent from the room after I had been given that mission because 1 needed time alone to think about it. My absence also made it easier for any of the others in the room to question the Emperor about the wisdom of his choice. 1 could not imagine Imperial advisors worthy of the title not questioning the Emperor’s thinking in this matter.

  After all, 1 certainly was.

  All my life I had grown up with heroic tales of my father and his brother. I had also always measured myself against Geoff and Dalt, and found myself physically lacking in comparison with them. Both of them fit the heroic mold better than I, but in me was the desperate fear 1 would never have the chance to prove myself an apt heir to our father. At home I was always a little brother, but in the capital I was a man. Here, with this quest being thrust upon me I knew, if nothing else, that 1 would get the chance to succeed.

  But the question truly was one of how great was the chance for success? The Emperor had to send someone after the Bfiarasfiadi sorcerer, and choosing a small, select group of individuals to do just that would minimize the attention that would be attracted if, say, a whole battalion of lancers were to be put into the field. In addition, regular army troops would be needed to fill the host that would oppose the Black Shadows. Wasting a full unit in this foolsquest was not a good idea.

  My mouth dried out a bit as I realized my companions and I were decidedly expendable, if we succe
eded, we would be lauded and feted. If we did not, the Black Shadows would resurrect their warriors, which meant the lot of us would be forgotten in the annals of the war that would follow. Our expedition was one the Emperor could not afford to prevent, and one that he could easily afford to gamble.

  The Valiant Lancers had started out as a small group, then grown to the size of a company and later a full regiment. 1 had no doubt many of my father’s early expeditions were similar in nature to the one 1 was facing. The bards would have had me believe my father laughed at odds and faced every challenge with a defiant roar and confident smile.

  The prospect of failure was making my stomach turn sour. But fail is not what I want or intend to do. While my father would have been realistic about the mission, I didn’t think he would have let doubts or the chances of failure poison his effort. 1 resolved I’d not do that either—for the sake of my companions and my father’s reputation.

  I allowed myself no illusions about the nature of the mission. Kit and I would need capable people with us. We would need some who knew Chaos well and were formidable fighters. We would have to be self-contained, as foraging in Chaos would be chancy at best, and could be downright dangerous if we ate something poisonous. Stealth and secrecy would be keys to our survival, while quick thinking and no small amount of luck would prove vital for our success.

  By the time I finished dressing in clothing of forest green cut along military lines, Thetys appeared and nodded his approval of the way I looked. “Good, that suits you better than bedclothes. How does your arm feel?”

  “Fine, Highness. A bit sore getting it into the tunic, but other than that it does not hurt much. It does itch, though.”

  “You have my sympathy.” He held out to me a small casket about twice the size of the box which had held my father’s ring. I took it and found it quite heavy. “These are Imperial Medallions. I have given you five of them and another five have been given to your cousin. You will give one each to the people who are to accompany you into Chaos. The medallions will tell my armorers that these people are part of your expedition, and they will be outfitted as appropriate for this foray into Chaos.”

  I opened the box and pulled out one of the bronze discs. The Imperial triskele crest decorated one face and the obverse showed a Ward Tower on the frontier with Chaos. The disc felt substantial and strong, as if symbolic of the Imperial support it represented. The cool metal felt good in the palm of my hand.

  “1 understand, sire, but do you not want to approve my choices?” I frowned and pressed my lips flat together. “This is a mission of utmost importance, yet you entrust it to me and my cousin as if we were our fathers. I am honored that you trust me and you trust Christoforos. Kit, he knows people here and knows whom to choose to accompany him into Chaos, but I know no one here. How can you trust me to choose companions wisely if I’m not certain I can do that?”

  The Emperor looked at me long and hard. I saw a dozen different emotions flicker across his face, but ultimately he smiled. “You are, of course, correct in that I am placing a great deal of trust in you, but I have no choice. If your mission succeeds, we will have no threat to the Empire from the Bharashadi. If it does not, I lose a dozen people and get to anticipate an invasion from Chaos that could easily destroy us all. Make no mistake about it, while I pray your mission will be successful, I actually believe I may well be sending you off to die in pursuit of an unattainable goal.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, Highness, for confiding your thoughts in me.”

  “Sending people off to die is not, nor ever should be, easy.” His dark eyes narrowed. “Of course, you’d already assessed your chances of success in this matter, so what I had to say came as no surprise.”

  “Not really.”

  “I hate to say this, given the circumstances, but that is a good thing.” He pointed to my right hand. “When I awarded you that ring you said you hoped you would be able to do something to earn that honor. 1 had hoped that you would as well, but I never thought it would be with anything this dangerous or this soon. And, yes, I would very much like to exercise a veto over your choice of companions, but 1 cannot do that.”

  “But, Highness, no one would refuse you if you asked them to join us.”

  “Of this I am well aware, and that is very much at the core of the problem. I have been told that when going into Chaos—where I have never been—a cadre must be chosen for their ability and the trust they have in one another, i believe—I have to believe—you and Christoforos will make the correct choices of those who will accompany you. And those people will have to know that their chances of coming back alive are hair-thin and dry-rot-weak.”

  I nodded calmly. “And will have to choose to go with us despite the poor odds, for their own reasons, not out of any feeling that they had to go because you have suggested they go.”

  “Precisely.” A wry grin twisted across the Emperor’s lips. “Despite the fact that 1 have given you and your cousin no such freedom to refuse.”

  1 laughed lightly. “We’ll be like Jhesti the Lost Prince. We’ll have to beard Lord Disaster in his own den, get from him his newfound staff, then defeat the whole of the Bharashadi, including those killed over the past five centuries. The stuff of legends, just like the Lost Prince. How could any sane person resist?”

  “The tally of sane folk willing to accompany you will not be great, Lachlan.” The Emperor shook his head slowly. “In fact, given the nature of the assignment, I would think you would want to recruit from a group that has already shown itself mentally unstable.”

  “Yes, sire, the Chaos Riders.” 1 smiled and remembered my promise to find Roarke. “If I may have your leave, 1 think I will begin my recruiting drive at the Umbra.”

  From things I had read and heard I knew polite society considered the waterfront area of the capital an enclave of Chaos because of its relative lawlessness. Even in the wee hours of the first day of the Bear things remained rather wild. Wandering in drunken knots, sailors on liberty from ships filled the streets. More often than not, when these little groups managed to collide with each other fistfights broke out, but being pounded into a bloody pulp didn’t seem to spoil anyone’s fun.

  Despite the clear abandon with which the denizens of the waterfront greeted the new year, the riotous action stopped toward the south end. There the zone reserved for Chaos Riders began, and even the blind drunk seemed to shun it. Dodging roiling brawls got easier as I headed into that section of the city, and the preternatural quiet in the area made it easy to understand why Chaos Riders call it the Asylum.

  The nature of the denizens made it simple to see why most others call it Quarantine.

  Much of the waterfront area, which is largely the older part of the city, is not paved with stones. Consequently, the snow, being churned to mush by wagons and hooves, left the streets muddy. At night, as the temperature dropped and the traffic slowed, the mud froze, leaving the Asylum’s streets a chilly catalog of the odd creatures that had wandered through it. I saw more than one track of an animal that, because of the depth of the print, had to weigh as much as a horse, yet the splayed-foot spoor suggested it was something else entirely.

  Like the rest of Old Town, the Asylum’s buildings were largely made of wood, though a fair number had been built out of sod or stone. A few had signs in front proclaiming them to be businesses, but most were just dark. The streets ran this way and that, splitting and becoming far narrower paths the deeper I went into that section of the city.

  Though I felt as foolish as someone walking through a graveyard in the wee hours of the morning, I could not feel afraid here. I knew I would see people and things I had never seen before, if Roarke and Eirene were in any way typical of Chaos Riders. While those people would be queer and terrifying, they had braved Chaos. I could do nothing but respect that, especially if I meant to recruit people for the Emperor’s mission here.

  Deep in the Asylum, back hidden amid a labyrinth of streets, I found the Umbra. My feet seemed to
know the path as if I had been there a million times before. I descended the rickety wooden steps to enter the tavern as easily as 1 would walk into my grandmother’s house. I pulled aside the thick hide covering the doorway and stood alone on a compact landing. A stairway led down on my right, and another headed up a half level straight ahead. 1 looked down, and between the steps I could see more stairs that descended at least one more level below the street.

  Drifting clouds of smoke diffused the yellow light from the thick candles burning atop tables and in wax-encrusted wall brackets. The murk made it difficult to see very far into the place at all, but the people I did spot seemed to come in all sorts of lumps and bumps and colors—easily from all the races of the Empire and every province. A muted buzz punctuated by an occasional shout reverberated from each level, and the thick stench reminded me of a stable that had not been mucked out in far too long.

  A huge creature peered down at me from the upper level. I guessed he was a man, though his head sat lopsided on his neck, as if someone had tried to twist his head around so his ears would be top and bottom on it. His eyes, which I thought were set perilously close to each other, glowed with Chaosfire. His left hand he kept hidden in his vest, while the other grabbed the stair railing. “What would you be wanting, hatchling? You’ve ne’er left the nest, so you’re not the sort we want here. Be gone.”

  1 smiled politely at the man-thing. “1 have come to…”

  “Deaf, are you?” He took one step down toward me, and I saw that his left knee appeared not to move in the normal way. “There are other places you can go to gawk, boy. Leave ‘neath your own power, or I’ll throw you out.” He came another step closer, and his left knee definitely bent backward when he moved. “Go on, out!”

  Off to my right a silvery behemoth leaped from the lower level to the landing and imposed himself between me and the man-thing. A low growl rumbled from Cruach’s throat, then he barked once, sharply, at the man. The hound lifted his broad head beneath my left hand, and I scratched him behind his right ear.