Imperial Black

by David Bishop

  Dante, I'm detecting a presence nearby, the Crest interjected.

  "I'm aware of that. It's two presences and both of them are in trouble."

  I wasn't talking about your disreputable travelling companions, I was-

  Suddenly the cave was ablaze with brilliant white light. A girl was floating in the centre it, her legs and arms folded into the lotus position. She was wearing a rich gown of red and gold, while long black hair spilled from beneath an elaborate headdress. In the centre of her forehead was a third eye, vermillion against a black background. She smiled at the surprised group benevolently.

  I was trying to tell you about her, the Crest concluded.

  When the girl spoke, her voice was audible in their minds, not their ears. Your Crest is correct: you are not alone here. You are never alone on this mountain, not while the Mukari sits on the holy throne. But a day is upon us all when the reign of the living goddess ends forever - unless you intercede. A blackness is coming, when the snows of this peak will run red with blood.

  TWELVE

  "Winds erode mountains, words rouse people."

  - Russian proverb

  "In the ranks of the Imperial Black, many crimes and misdemeanours, which would never be permitted within other regiments bearing the Tsar's emblem, are tolerated. Rape, murder, looting - all are perfectly acceptable behaviour for these troops, once the commanding officer has given his men leave to indulge their baser instincts. However, there is one crime that even the worst elements within the Imperial Black consider beyond redemption: cowardice. General Vassily Ivanov makes it known to all new recruits that any soldier who runs from the enemy can expect to be executed by their own brothers-in-arms. Such ferocity of will has created an army that never turns away, never backs down and never surrenders, no matter how overwhelming the foe or how uneven the odds in any conflict."

  - Extract from The Files of the Raven Corps

  Dante used a hand to shield his eyes from the Mukari's blinding apparition, squinting at her through a gap in his fingers. The ghostly girl floating inside the snow-bound cave looked similar to Mai, but her features were sharper and her eyes less hooded. This must be the current Mukari, Dante decided, projecting her spirit into here from the Forbidden Citadel.

  I am doing all I can to hold back the darkness engulfing my realm, the Mukari told Dante and the others. But I cannot contain the forces sent against me much longer. You must reach the citadel soon, or else all is lost.

  "How can we?" Mai asked. "The avalanche entombed us in this cave."

  There is another way, faster than climbing the side of this mountain. The girl clapped her hands three times, and a cracking sound tore the air. Flintlock and Spatchcock scrambled to safety as the rock wall behind them split apart, releasing a cloud of dust into the air. When this dissipated a stairway was revealed, its steps winding upwards into the heart of the mountain. Climb the stairs, the Mukari said, but hurry. Even I cannot sustain them indefinitely.

  Dante was first to his feet, hastily gathering his possessions. "Get your things together," he told the others. "Now!"

  You shall not need bedding or spare clothes where you are going. All will be provided for you. Bring only your wits and your weapons.

  "Flintlock'll be travelling light then," Spatchcock cackled and received a clout round the ears.

  Dante shoved his two comrades towards the staircase, then stood aside for Mai to go next. "After you?"

  "Better if you're in front," she replied. "That way you'll focus on the job in hand and not on my arse."

  "But it's such a nice ass," Dante said, smirking.

  The Mukari cleared her throat, glaring at him pointedly.

  "Sorry, force of habit," he replied before taking to the stairs.

  Mai lingered in the cave briefly, staring at the girl's apparition. "You look like me - when I was your age." She strode to the staircase and began climbing upwards, taking two steps at a time. The doorway in the cave closed behind her.

  Khumbu pounded his fists on the throne room door. The Mukari had sealed herself inside the chamber for hours, not allowing anyone to enter since the previous sunset. Back then, the citadel had trembled at the noises emanating from behind this door, noises that triggered a massive avalanche outside. Gylatsen had refused to allow anyone into the throne room, enraging the head monk. In retaliation Khumbu had banished Gylatsen to guard duty at the citadel gates. The young monk was too familiar with the Mukari, in Khumbu's opinion. A living goddess should be treated with reverence, not as a friend.

  Despite sending Gylatsen away, Khumbu had still been unable to get into the throne room. The door remained sealed shut and the Mukari did not respond to the voices of her disciples. At midnight Khumbu had retreated to his cell for prayer and meditation, hoping these might offer him solace and guidance. But calm proved elusive and sleep as hard to find.

  It was dawn - long past time for the goddess to eat. Khumbu had warmed a bowl of Gylatsen's broth and brought it to the doorway. He called to his goddess, but she did not respond. "Mukari, why do you keep us out? Have we offended you in some way? Tell us how to deserve your forgiveness. We will do whatever you ask. Please, Mukari - let us in!" He tried the handle once more, but it remained resolutely still.

  Khumbu leaned his back against the door and let his old, weary legs fold together, sliding slowly down to the floor. Tears of frustration were pricking at his eyes, anger knotting his chest. Why was she treating him this way? Had he not devoted his life to her worship, kept alive the customs and traditions held sacred by the monks for generation upon generation? What more could she ask of him? I'm a fool, Khumbu realised. It is not for mortals to question the ways of the goddess. I am a disciple of her will - nothing more.

  A thick clunk sounded behind Khumbu and the throne room door swung slowly open. The old monk got to his knees, bowing at the entrance before moving inside. He could hear the Mukari. She was sitting on the throne, her breathing shallow but steady. "Goddess, forgive this intrusion. Are you hungry?"

  "No," she replied quietly. But after she stopped talking to him, Khumbu's keen ears could hear her lips and tongue still forming words. He had witnessed this phenomenon once before, when a previous Mukari had taken to projecting her spirit beyond its mortal shell.

  "My apologies, goddess. I shall leave the chamber and stand guard outside, to make sure you are not disturbed again. Forgive my intrusion, my goddess."

  "Thank you, Khumbu," she replied.

  Ivanov had tasked the Enforcer with rousing the men at dawn. A roll call of the survivors found their number to be three hundred and twenty-seven, not counting the general or his second-in-command. Ivanov inspected the troops as best he could on the difficult terrain, before addressing them from a rocky outcrop a few metres up the mountainside. His breath formed into vapour in the cold air, each phrase becoming another small cloud in the still atmosphere.

  "I know the events of yesterday were a shock to you all, as they were to me. Losing so many comrades so quickly was a blow, but one from which we must recover quickly. Do you want their loss to stand for nothing, their sacrifice to have been in vain?"

  "No!" the soldiers shouted back in unison.

  "Will you still follow me, even if our mission should lead into hell itself?"

  "Yes, sir!"

  The general nodded, a grim satisfaction evident on his face. "Very well. Today shall be an end to our endeavour, for better or for worse. The top of this peak is not far above us, and the Forbidden Citadel must be close by. We shall make a systematic search of the mountain. If this legendary fortress is here, we will find it, and we will take it!"

  The troops responded with a roar of approval, brandishing their weapons.

  Ivanov waited until the noise subsided before speaking once more. "When the Enforcer and I received our briefing for this mission, we were told the citadel is guarded by a religious sect blessed with special abilities. These holy men possess a secret weapon so powerful any man who looks upon it goes blind.
Are you afraid?"

  "No!" the soldiers shouted back.

  "You are the Imperial Black, the most feared, the most notorious, the most dangerous regiment in the Tsar's forces. If anyone should be afraid, it is these monks, for they know what terror we bring. Are you with me?"

  "Yes!"

  "I said are you with me?"

  "YES!"

  The general nodded, satisfied with their response. "Before another sunset, we shall hold the Forbidden Citadel in our grasp, we shall take this mighty weapon for our own. And then every army, ever regiment in the Empire will tremble at our name. We are the Imperial Black and we shall be victorious!"

  "Did you hear something?" Spatchcock asked. He and the others had been climbing the stairs inside the mountain for more than an hour, their backs aching from the effort.

  "Only my stomach rumbling," Flintlock replied sourly.

  "No, it was more like shouting - hundreds of men shouting." Dante leaned against the curved wall that encircled the staircase. "Crest, can you detect any unusual sounds through the mountain?"

  Nothing distinct, it replied. The last noises audible from the rocks did sound man-made, but I could find no pattern or rhythm to them.

  "The Mukari said she could not hold back the forces sent against her much longer," Mai recalled. She paused below the others on the staircase "We know that the avalanche killed many of Ivanov's men, but the survivors cannot be far from the citadel. We must press on."

  "How do you know the soldiers are close to the fortress?" Flintlock asked. "How do we even know this citadel is near the top of the mountain?"

  "Why else would the Mukari be helping us up the mountain, except to defend her?" Spatchcock replied, shaking his head. "What did you think she was inviting us for? Tea and bloody crumpets?"

  "Don't mention food," Flintlock protested. "I feel like I haven't eaten in days." The former aristocrat yelped in pain, jumping up two steps at once. He spun round to find a grinning Dante wielding one of his cyborganic blades. "You stabbed me in the arse!"

  "Anything to get you moving," Dante said with a smile. "Now get climbing again or else I'll carve my name into your backside!" Flintlock scurried up the steps, pushing his way past Spatchcock to take the lead.

  Ivanov's men searched every square metre of the tor above where the ice bridge had been, but could not find any evidence of the Forbidden Citadel. The general reacted angrily, raging at his second-in-command, at the mountains around them, even the sky. When his fury had passed its peak, Ivanov demanded the major repeat every word uttered by the village headman. "There must be some clue among what he told you, some hint to where we shall find this fortress!"

  But the Enforcer was looking past Ivanov, pointing into the sky. "General, look..."

  Ivanov twisted round to see what was so important. The surviving soldiers were all doing the same, staring dumbstruck at what was looming over them. It was a massive, translucent skull floating in the air, thirty metres tall. Scraps of flesh and skin hung from its bleached white bones. An eyeball floated within each socket, but they had no lids or lashes. The mouth of the skull opened and shut soundlessly, its words spoken directly into the mind of each man on the mountain. Why have you come to this place, outsiders? Speak now or I shall send another avalanche to smite you from my holy mountain!

  Ivanov stepped forwards, puffing out his chest and clasping his hands together behind his back. "My name is Vassily Ivanov and I am a general in-"

  I know who you are, fool. I asked why you came here!

  "We were sent by the Ruler of all the Russias, Tsar Vladimir Makarov, on a peaceful mission to find the Forbidden Citadel. Our leader wishes to open a dialogue with those who live inside the citadel."

  You lie, the skull retorted coldly. You wish to steal and you would kill my people to get what you want. That is the truth.

  "You are mistaken. Since you can speak into our minds, you can probably read our thoughts too. Look deep into mine and witness the truth there!"

  I know your truth all too well, Ivanov the Terrible, Butcher of Rudinshtein. You have killed women and children, murdered and tortured thousands for your own pleasure. Even here, in my sacred mountains, you have spilled the blood of dozens solely to make one man speak. You are the worst of creatures and I will not weep at your death later today!

  That last remark caused a stir among the soldiers, the general could hear them muttering to each other. "You are mistaken, whoever you are! I will not die today, nor shall any of my men," he shouted at the ghostly skull.

  You do not believe me?

  "Why should any of us believe the lies of a creature that hides behind this elaborate illusion, a creature that lacks the courage to face me in person, a creature so weak and feeble it dare not even reveal its name?"

  My name is death and this mission shall be yours, Ivanov. I shall let all of your men see their own deaths. Close your eyes and bear witness, mortals!

  Ivanov felt his eyes closing, despite trying to keep them open. Then his mind was filled with a vision of his body bleeding to death on a black floor, his throat run through by an unseen blade, his legs brutally severed at the knees. Ivanov shuddered at the vision that replayed itself over and over in his head, the same few seconds, the same excruciating pain lancing through his body in sympathy with the injuries.

  Perhaps I can't stop myself seeing this, Ivanov decided, but that will not still my voice.

  "No, this is a lie," he bellowed. "I deny this future, it is a falsehood designed to frighten the weak and feeble. I deny this future and say it is a lie!" The general shouted to his men. "Imperial Black, repeat after me: 'I deny this future and say it is a lie.' Say it!"

  "I deny this future and say it is a lie," the nearest soldiers repeated.

  "Louder!" Ivanov shouted. "I want to hear every man, every voice!"

  "I deny this future and say it is a lie," the soldiers shouted, more of them joining in, the chant becoming stronger and more powerful.

  "Again!"

  "I deny this future and say it is a lie!"

  Ivanov forced open his eyes and glared in triumph at the apparition. "Listen to my men. They reject your falsehoods! We shall find you and we shall destroy you, pretender! Ivanov the Terrible shall rule this mountain!"

  Not yet, butcher. And not all your men agree with you. See for yourself. The general realised dozens of his soldiers were fleeing down the mountain, scrambling over the snow-covered rocks, terror etched on their faces.

  "Cowardly scum!" Ivanov snarled. "No soldier ever disgraced the uniform of the Imperial Black by fleeing a battle or an enemy. Enforcer!"

  "Yes, sir!" the major responded, snapping to attention.

  "You know what we do to deserters in this unit."

  "Yes, sir." The Enforcer produced a weapon and began executing those fleeing, a single bullet exploding the head of each soldier. His shots rang out, one after another, until close to a hundred men lay dead on the slope below. The blood from their wounds drained into the snow, staining it crimson. Once the slaughter was concluded, Ivanov folded his arms and glared at the ghostly skull.

  "I broke no opposition, be it the running coward, or the supernatural spectre. This fortress will be found and it will be mine!"

  In her throne room the Mukari cried out, her concentration broken by the deaths of so many terrified men. She collapsed to the floor, hands struggling to keep her elaborate headdress in place. "Forgive me," the girl whispered. "I have failed."

  Outside, the translucent skull glowed brightly for a second, then disappeared. Ivanov heard a gasp from one of his soldiers. "General, look!" Above them, a white fortress appeared, clinging to the side of the mountain. Its outer walls were ten metres high, with a pair of mighty gates built into them. Inside the wall were wide white buildings and windows dotted across their upper levels, each structure topped by a golden pagoda roof. The Forbidden Citadel was visible, at last.

  "We searched that area, I know we did," the Enforcer hissed.

  "Our
eyes were deceived," Ivanov said quietly. As he spoke the citadel faded away once more, leaving no trace of its presence. "Our eyes are deceived once more, but our brains know the truth now. The fortress of our enemy is but a hundred metres above this position. Enforcer, I believe the time is right for you to don the exo-skeleton. Forward, men! Destiny awaits us."

  THIRTEEN

  "Amens alone won't ward off evil."

  - Russian proverb

  "The exo-skeleton is among the more formidable weapons available to members of the Tsar's armed forces. It is a lightweight suit of body armour panels that can be wore over any uniform, without impeding the user's movements. Indeed, the exo-skeleton significantly enhances the physical power of whoever wears it. Activated by a hidden control button on the chest plate, the suit generates a force field around the user, simultaneously protecting them from harm and enhancing their strength by a factor of ten. A single blow from a normal soldier's fist can break bones and glass. A single blow from anyone wearing the exo-skeleton can smash through walls with ease."

  - Extract from The Files of the Raven Corps

  Dante's legs ached, his muscles weak and giddy. He and the others had been climbing the steps within the mountain for what felt like an eternity. At long last, there was a glimmer of daylight above them. Flintlock saw it first and gave a feeble hurrah of relief, before quickening his pace. Spatchcock followed suit and Dante hurried to keep up with them, Mai close behind. Finally, all four stood at the top of the stone staircase, where a landing broadened out into a hollow space. Sunlight poured in the cave's mouth, dazzling the four after so long in the near dark.