Intimations of Evil (Warriors of Vhast Book 1)

by Cary J Lenehan

  Theodora thought a moment. She supposed so. She nodded.

  “That means someone wanted us delayed,” he said.

  She was sure a flicker of concern crossed his face as he looked around. Even in the keep he was still concerned.

  “That attack was not an accident. Someone wanted us to be out there when the Wights came.”

  Outside, in the courtyard, a large patrol was assembling. Kataphractoi and the skirmishing scouts of the Kynigoi gathered with packhorses, a mage and a Christian priest. A company of Kichic-kharl was already heading out the gate and it looked like they had one of their priests running along with them as well. Anything she could say would only excite suspicion and she could imagine the garrison asking why someone would want to kill her.

  No, everything was being done that could be. They didn’t need to know what Basil had deduced.

  By the time this conversation was finished Basil was swaying slightly and Salimah took him off to find a place to sleep. The keep had a hostel used by the passing traders, in which Basil consented to go to bed after leaving instructions to be woken for the evening meal.

  Theodora went to the battlements to watch the cavalry riding back down the road they had arrived by, while the infantry inspected the barrows as they moved along the edge of the plateau.

  Events took several hours to unfold and, by the time they happened they were so distant that all of the actors were mere dots. Suddenly the dots that represented the Kichic-kharl archers converged on a barrow. After a short while a small group detached and moved to the edge of the plateau. After another while a group could just be seen moving up the slope, becoming more visible when they reached the grassland. They joined the first group. The larger dots of this group had to be horsemen. The combined group headed back to the barrow. Theodora wasn’t sure, but it looked like some dots disappeared for a while, probably into the barrow. After a time, the dots joined up and headed back towards Deathguard Tower. The dots stayed together and it became apparent that they would return a little after dusk. Theodora kept watching until it was time to go down and eat.

  Theodora decided it was important that they leave tomorrow, even if they were still tired. Although the barrow would now be sealed, the Granther would probably want to come himself to be sure. It could be a while, but she didn’t want to be here when he arrived. To minimise, if possible, the attention that was paid to them she also decided not to entertain tonight.

  ~~~

  The next day they left early on the road to Sasar. They travelled for six more hot, dry and dusty days and slept five more nights at army posts—those that had good permanent water starting once again to develop small hamlets around them. The dread plague of The Burning had subsided a few years ago and many places had lost almost all of their people. Theodora had been told entire settlements had been lost or destroyed. Seeing it, she now understood how the whole of The Land would be slow to recover from its impact.

  They overtook caravans and passed others going towards Ardlark. Sometimes they kept company with army patrols. Once again Theodora began to feel the ennui of slow travel in a flat and boring land.

  ~~~

  Theodora thought about what she knew about Sasar as it came into view. She knew it was a vital town to the Empire. It sat in front of a mountain and was one of the two good mines that provided more of the iron that was used in Darkreach.

  Sasar also served as the crossroads of the main east-west and north-south roads that bound the Empire together. It may be important, but it didn’t look it. Its oasis was small and could not support many farmers. Unusually most of the residents here were Kharl, all of them Alat-kharl or Greydkharl, rather than Humans or even Insackharl.

  The village was only a scattering of houses around a vaguely cross-shaped pair of streets. The ground, and indeed the houses, and even the trees, were coated with a fine red dust from the mines. She kept brushing herself as she noticed that she was getting a layer of it all over her and she could even taste its bitterness in her mouth. She noticed that Basil was spitting and washing his mouth with water.

  The dust coated the entire town and made everything look the same. She felt some confusion until Basil pointed out an inn and urged her towards it.

  Chapter V

  She was pretty good, thought Basil. He had positioned himself so that he could see all the entrances to the room as well as having Theodora’s, or rather Salimah’s, ‘stage’ in view whenever he looked up. He had better think of her as Salimah to avoid mistakes. Not that he had much chance to look up. He suspected this oldster he was playing chess against was far better than him, but at least if he concentrated he had a chance. Every time he looked up a new instrument seemed to have joined in on the small stage. Apart from his charge, there was not much skill in evidence, but the whole village seemed to be there and they were all enjoying the fun. Even the garrison had joined the party. His presence as a bodyguard seemed to be uncalled for, so he could enjoy himself and just keep watch out of habit. The locals obviously did not really believe in aging their local wines for very long when only they were drinking them. Still, he had drunk much worse.

  Eventually the common sense of farmers took over and everyone decided to head to bed. He had ended the night two games down to the oldster, whom he thanked and who thanked him profusely—far more than he thought that he deserved. It was obvious that the man didn’t have a lot of competition here. Basil followed Salimah upstairs and checked her door, once she was inside, before checking the horses and leaving word with the innkeeper on when he should be woken up.

  ~~~

  The worst thing about being a servant is the early starts, thought Basil as he shivered a little in the chill of a desert dawn. He collected Salimah’s clean clothes and a tray of food and drinks and started back upstairs. When he reached her room, what started as a quiet tap on the door, ended up as a persistent pounding. He was just thinking about getting his lock picks and letting himself in when the door opened. Salimah had opened the door only a crack, but he could see her golden eyes uncovered and, as she opened the door further recollected he had seen no night attire when he had unpacked. Salimah’s eyes, black hair and hairless naked body were the final proof that she was, in fact, Theodora.

  Without batting an eyelid he greeted her, “Good morning, Milady. Here are your travel clothes and something to eat. By the way, Milady, it is best to check who is outside the door before opening it. One never knows.”

  ~~~

  It was still quite some time before they left. Basil realised, as he helped Salimah up onto her horse, that she was not as accustomed to this as she should be. It was too long before Basil helped her up onto her horse. She needed the help. It was obvious that, although she wore heavy armour, and seemed used to wearing it, she was only of average strength. Most Kataphractoi were more accustomed to the weight they carried and grew much stronger over time. Today she was wearing the camail on her helm raised and Basil could see her eyes were again black and a stray strand of hair showed as orange. The quicker he got her away from this village the better. It seemed that this was going to be a long assignment in so many ways. Salimah was obviously intent on making him into some sort of musician, adding another task to a daily list of duties that already looked long.

  As they rode along Salimah asked Basil to ride beside her and then starting quizzing him about his past. Their ride was comfortable along the road, the main artery of the Empire, and the horses would almost take themselves along it while they talked. Basil had done enough work acting as a servant to be able to mention names that she may have heard of and he satisfied her curiosity. In the process Basil found out more about her than she did about him.

  It turned out that he had seen more of the Empire than she had. Although born in Ardlark, he had been mainly raised in the far south among the jungles that surround Southpoint. He had been to Mouthguard in the only gap in the mountains that was both the defence of Darkreach and also its barrier to expansion, seen the fabulous eternal flam
es in the island-town of Antdrudge and even briefly been to the snows and frozen seas around Cold Keep in the far north. Basil thought that he deflected attention quite well when he implied that he had been to most of these places as a military servant. It seemed that Salimah had only seen Ardlark and the coastal towns as far as Axepol in the west and Silentochre in the south.

  Salimah was always letting information slip. She had made these visits in one of the great dromonds of the navy. Even the nobility did not get to use these as pleasure barges. You had to be from the Imperial family to have one of these made available to use for a leisure trip. At least, in her defence, from the way she had said it, she may not even know that. In so many ways she was truly an innocent to the world, sometimes just seeming to be a little girl out on an adventure.

  At lunch he produced fare that he had obtained at the inn; cold meats and salami, feta cheese, pickled vegetables, olives and dates. Salimah shocked Basil by demanding that he sit beside her to eat, and then insisted that he use some of the break to start practicing beating time on the drums. And then, they were on their way again.

  That night they stayed at a military post after the long, hot and dusty ride. It was a lot less comfortable than The Old Lobster. Basil’s decision to help the caravanserai cook to prepare the meal turned out to be a good idea. He actually knew far more what to do with the spices than the cook had. After eating, the post commander tried to get him to stay permanently, much to the indignation of Salimah. Once again Salimah entertained. Now it was the post commander’s turn to be scandalised at the behaviour of this supposed officer. The troops, half of them Kichic-kharl foot archers and the others Human Kynigoi, light skirmishing cavalry, loved it. They particularly enjoyed Basil’s learning attempts to provide rhythm as they hit their table tops with hands and with the butts of their knives along with him roughly in time. At least he chose to interpret their laughter as enjoyment. The troops wanted them both to stay.

  When the pair left the next morning they had a cavalry escort. It was setting off for a routine patrol to the west and shared the first part of the day on the same route. The heat grew heavy and the dust rose around them. Sweat trickled and the horses’ heads began to droop. After lunch the escort cheerfully waved Basil and Theodora goodbye as they turned to continue their patrol into the arid lands to the north, leaving the pair to continue west.

  ~~~

  Having that horseshoe come loose was vexing. Basil was not an expert horse handler and so had made sure that he had taken particular notice of everything to do with their animals. He had inspected the hooves of them every night and morning, even when there was someone else to brush them down and look after their other needs. None had shown the slightest sign of coming loose before. But then, he already suspected it was not anything he had done to cause the loose shoe.

  There was nothing to be done about it now. A night in the open should not hurt them too much. He could see, from the expression on her face, Salimah did not like the prospect of just lying down in the dirt on a blanket. Like the spoilt young girl she sometimes seemed to be she needed to realise that life would be a lot harder than what she was used to if they did, indeed, leave the Empire. It was best if she found out now.

  Basil decided to spend the night on his feet, a bit of relief actually after several days in the saddle. Although he was a competent rider, lately he was more used to being closer to the ground. He walked around the campsite, occasionally stopping and dropping low to examine the horizon, hoping that the contrast between earth and sky might reveal anything that approached. He saw some animals avoided their camp, mainly smaller pouched hoppers, but once there was one of the giant animals, twice the height of a man, with a tail thicker than a man’s leg, which grazed on low trees not on grass.

  Around midnight the stillness of the night was broken by an odd noise. Basil had his back to Deathguard at that time, and spun around to discover the source of the sound. He smiled. It seemed that, when she slept on her back, Salimah snored. Very softly, but she snored.

  By the stars it was around three in the morning. The chill of night lay on them and the faint dampness that grows on the skin. Basil, who had been concentrating on the early autumn chill that he felt on the tip of his nose and in his fingers, was brought to full alert by another distant sound. It was like the sound of a galloping animal, only somehow wrong. Peering through the night Basil thought that he saw three dark shapes coming from the direction of the plateau ahead. They were still maybe a couple of hundred paces away, but moving quickly towards the camp. Basil didn’t think that they were likely to be friendly.

  He quickly moved to where Salimah slept, grabbed her foot in the army fashion and shook it hard. The snoring stopped abruptly and she sat up, a dagger already in her hand. Something came out of her mouth. It may have been, ‘What’s happening?’ or ‘What are you doing?’ Basil didn’t wait to find out.

  “Wake up Salimah,” he said urgently. “Get into your circle. We are about to be attacked.”

  She said something else, it may have been ‘Kutsulbalik’, but this time she was moving and awake. After seeing her disentangling herself from her blankets and springing barefoot to grab her weapons belt he turned and put himself roughly between her and the approaching shapes, keeping to one side in case she would be casting spells.

  It was dark near the start of the month with both moons very thin, but the lack of clouds in the night air allowed the stars to give some light. Peering into the darkness Basil could see there were five approaching shapes. Each was a black mass atop a skeletal horse. Black formless shapes meant either Wights or Wraiths. He shuddered. One touch on the skin from either of these would drain some of his life force and he would have to be very close to them to strike with his weapons. Luckily both were magically enhanced and thus could actually damage them.

  He felt a wind pass him by and turned to see Salimah standing on her casting rug pointing a wand at the approaching undead. Turning back to the front as more gusts passed him he saw the undead horses staggering. She was an air mage and at least she had some offensive magic in her arsenal. That was a relief. One horse fell, and then another. Their riders rose up and continued moving, but far slower now that they were on their own feet. He compassed himself and began muttering a prayer.

  The last to dismount was only a few paces from Basil, with others he could see behind it. It carried a sword and shield and wore a hauberk of chain link. Although it had a bare skull, it seemed to be more substantial than a mere skeleton, as if there were a man still inside the armour—definitely a Wight. Its eyes glowed balefully in the dark as malevolent points of white. However, Basil realised that at least this one was not likely to touch him if it relied on its weapons. His opponent held its sword in its right hand. Basil, who could use both his hands equally well, cross-drew his blades, and stood to favour his left and to give himself a slight advantage. They closed and Basil was soon concen-trating simply on defence.

  The Wight must have been a formidable swordsman in life to keep so much skill when he was one of the less dextrous undead. Basil realised the creature’s mail was hanging in rusty festoons and proving more of a hindrance to its wearer than a protection. He also realised that a second Wight was growing closer—and it had no weapons. It would try and grasp him and drain him. He had to do something.

  His opponent chose that moment to rush him. Basil sidestepped to his right, his opponent’s shield side, turning and stabbing across his body into its shield. The point stuck in and he dragged the shield down as he thrust into the skull with his weapon, piercing the glowing spark in the eye socket. His point hit the back of the skull and pierced it.

  He wrenched his blade free, but discovered that the skull was impaled and he had removed the head from the creature, its body falling at his feet, thrashing in the throes of its second death. Oh well, his instructor had always said to use a shortsword to get your point across. He gave a short bark of nervous laughter.

  Basil realised that he still h
ad his second shortsword stuck in the shield. This forced him to lean down and put his foot on the shield in order to pull out the blade. The second Wight reached for him and he desperately swung a blind cut towards its hands with his other hand. The skull flew off the end of the blade and, as luck would have it, struck the second Wight full in the face causing it to flinch back. Basil’s shortsword continued its wild arc, clipping the tip off one of its six bony fingers as its grab missed. Basil leapt back and fully to his feet facing the creature.

  He had two blades to counter the two hands of the Wight, but his two blades could cut as well as thrust. He realised as he made his defence that, when he could counter his opponent with an edge, rather than a flat, he could perhaps damage it and trim it back gradually. As he fought Basil began to say a prayer of thanks for his blades. Their enchantment for extra damage converted his defensive strokes into attacks. It may be slow, but by concentrating on defence he was destroying his opponent. He hoped that he could do this before his next opponent arrived.

  The second Wight, at last, fell. Basil looked around. As far as he could see there was no one and nothing ahead of him. Behind him he could hear the heavy breathing of someone who had been fighting hard and who was not used to it, but no sounds of fighting. Scanning the horizon he turned around. Salimah stood looking at him, her sword hanging down to the ground on one side and her buckler against her leg on the other. She didn’t look very composed or steady. He finished looking around and moved towards his charge.

  Chapter VI

  After Sasar, five more days of travel brought them to Nameless Keep. Where would they go from here? Theodora reviewed what she knew about the place. This was the main army base for the west of the Empire and stood on the eastern end of the Darkreach Gap on a basalt ridge. Its walls were not as tall as those of Deathguard, but were much thicker, being carved out directly out of the ridge that it stood on. Rumour, which Theodora knew to be true, had it that the black walls were magically strengthened.