Warhammer - [Brunner the Bounty Hunter 02] - Blood and Steel

by C L Werner (lit)

  Brega watched in silence as Brunner carefully worked the tip of the pole underneath a tripwire - a length of tough sinew - stretched across the corridor. The bounty hunter slowly lifted the wire until at last it snapped. There was a flash and a large crude blade of steel fell from a crack in the wall, scything across the corridor just in front of Brunner like an Estalian pendulum. The pole snapped with a loud crack as the blade struck it. The murderous length of steel ended its fatal swing by crashing against the other wall, the metal trembling from the force of the impact.

  'We're lucky you saw it!' Brega exclaimed. By way of response the bounty hunter readied his crossbow.

  'I've been expecting something like that,' he said, eyes scanning the darkness.

  'Expecting it?' Brega asked, his voice nervous.

  'It explains why they've been waiting,' Brunner said. 'We've been followed for the last mile,' he added.

  Before Brega could ask his captor what he was talking about, shapes launched themselves from the shadows, shrieking and snarling with shrill, gibbering voices. The bounty hunter aimed back along the length of the horses and fired. There was a meaty sound of steel punching into flesh and a high-pitched scream. Brega heard a body fall and something metal clatter along the stone floor.

  Brunner turned and faced the passage before them. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness, and small shadowy shapes raced forward. The bounty hunter did not wait - he fired two more bolts into the oncoming creatures. Two sets of red eyes pitched to the floor, whining in pain. Brunner turned once more, firing another bolt into one of the creatures closing upon the horses. There was another shriek of pain as the bolt found its mark. The horses were agitated now, snorting and moving about the narrow corridor. Brega braced himself, certain that the bounty hunter's huge steed was going to crush him against the wall.

  Brunner drew his sword as the first of their attackers began to close upon him. With his other hand, he threw open the lantern, allowing its light to engulf the corridor. The light revealed their attackers. There were at least a dozen of them, each no larger than a small child. The creatures wore dark hooded cloaks, ropes of dried animal gut tied about their waists. They had short, bandy legs and long, spidery arms. The faces that grinned from beneath the hoods were twisted and malicious. Each of the goblins' long noses was marked by a set of small steel spikes driven into the spongy flesh.

  As the light of the lantern was released, the goblins drew short their charge, raising their arms to their faces to protect their eyes from the sudden light. Brunner did not hesitate, for that might give the greenskins a chance to recover, an opportunity to decide if they would use the axes and clubs gripped in their hands or turn tail and flee before the light. The bounty hunters sword slashed through the face of the first goblin he closed upon. The creature was flung aside by the force of the blow and crumpled into a shrieking heap against the wall.

  A second goblin was disembowelled, its green-black blood spraying the walls. A third was decapitated, the head still mouthing a shriek as it sailed from its shoulders. A fourth goblin found Brunner's steel crunching through its chest. The bounty hunter kicked his foot against the mutilated goblin, tearing its body from his blade.

  Still blinded by the unexpected brilliance of the lantern, the other goblins could hear the rapid and brutal demise of their fellows, their deaths all the more horrible because they couldn't be seen. The remaining goblins dropped their weapons, crying and wailing in piteous, simpering tones as they began to retreat. Blinded, the goblins crashed into one another in their reckless haste to escape the fearsome man they had hoped to claim as their prey. To speed them on their way, Brunner grabbed hold of the slowest by its hood and smashed its skull against the murderous steel pendulum.

  Brunner turned from the carnage he had wrought, and stooped to clean his blade with the cloak of a slain goblin.

  Brega stared in awe at the scattered goblin bodies. The entire fight had taken perhaps two minutes, yet the bounty hunter had managed to kill nine of the creatures in that time.

  'Sharp Noses,' Brunner declared as he stepped forward to take Fiend's reins. 'Fortunately they don't have any skill with a bow, otherwise they might have given me some trouble. That probably explains why their clan is so small.'

  Brega fixed an angry glare at the bounty hunter. 'I thought you said you had an understanding with the Sharp Noses!' he accused.

  'I do,' Brunner said. 'But sometimes you have to kill a few of the young ones. Remind them why they should listen to their elders.'

  FOR LONG HOURS they continued on, through the endless night of Karag-dar. Brega could tell that the area they were now travelling in was derelict even by the standards of the former dwarf stronghold. There was no sign of activity in this area, though the walls were pitted in places by the rude tunnels and caves that he had come to understand were the work of goblins. Yet unlike the rest of the tunnels and halls they had walked, there was a sense of an even longer neglect here, as though even the savage inheritors of Karag-dar had forsaken this place. Cobwebs were everywhere, dust lay thick upon the floor. As they moved onward, there was a scratching sound. Brega looked up. With some horror he discovered the source of the sound. A thin trickle of dust fell from overhead. That was the reason these tunnels were abandoned, the smuggler realised with dread. Goblins were not great miners, like the dwarfs, but even they could recognise when a tunnel was ready to collapse!

  Brega cleared his throat of the lump that had risen there and opened his mouth to speak. The bounty hunter turned on him, a gloved finger upon his lips.

  'Be quiet.' Brunner whispered. 'Make any noise here and you may just bring the entire mountain down on us.' The killer smiled coldly. 'Before you go thinking that would be a nice death, consider that you might not die outright in the collapse. You might be trapped, trapped under tons of stone and rock, where even the gods won't be able to find you. Buried alive in the shadows of Karag-dar. Starving, suffocating, spending long miserable hours waiting for the end. Or perhaps the rats of Karag-dar might find you first and hasten your passing.'

  Brega shuddered as the bounty hunter detailed such a terrible death. Brunner smiled as he watched his prisoner recoil from the image he had painted for him. He turned once more, leading the horses still deeper into the silent, brooding dark.

  'Mind the cobwebs,' Brunner warned. 'The spiders grow quite large down here.' The bounty hunter's last whispers drifted back to Brega as a disembodied sigh. 'They need to.'

  IT SEEMED LIKE days later before the bounty hunter called a stop, though Brega knew that so much time could not possibly have been spent on the march. The lengthy periods of tedium had been interspersed with moments of absolute horror as dust drifted down or rocks shifted overhead. Once, Brega had been certain the entire tunnel was going to collapse when he saw the numerous goblin holes that had been cut into the walls, weakening the ancient surety of the dwarf construction. But in the end, he and the horses had received only a bath of dust and a few bruises from small stones that rained down upon them.

  At last the unstable section was behind them. Brunner trained his lantern frequently on the ceiling, studying it and peered into the rooms and side passages that they passed. Finally he smiled, nodding for Brega to come forward and see what he had discovered.

  'Bats?' the smuggler asked as he saw the squeaking shapes clutching to the ceiling of the room.

  'They don't settle in areas that are weak,' the bounty hunter explained. 'Like rats on ships, they have a certain sense for such things. It means we can finally take a rest.' The bounty hunter pushed Brega back into the corridor. 'I'm sure the horses would appreciate a bit of a break.'

  Quickly the bounty hunter examined a side passage beyond the room where the bats had made their nest. After a keen study of the floor, Brunner began to unburden the horses. Brega stood aside, letting him work. He had learned not to get in Brunner's way, and his hand still pained him from the last time he had drawn too close to one of the bounty hunter's many weapons.

&
nbsp; He sat on a rock and watched as Brunner removed the saddles and harnesses from his animals. When he had finished watering and feeding the horses, Brunner removed a blanket from the unloaded packs and sat down, his back against the rough wall, crossbow at his side.

  Brega watched Brunner dig a piece of dried meat from a pouch on his belt. His mouth watered as he watched the bounty hunter eat, his stomach groaning in protest at the sight.

  'Don't I get anything?' he asked. Brunner looked over at his prisoner.

  'You ate yesterday,' the cold voice of the killer stated between bites.

  'I thought you wanted to bring me to Vaulkberg alive,' protested Brega.

  Brunner stared at his prisoner. 'Alive doesn't mean well-fed,' he said. 'I keep you hungry, I keep you weak. I keep you weak, and there is less chance of you getting into any mischief. You'll eat tomorrow.' Brunner tore another bite from the salted beef. 'If you behave. Maybe.'

  Brega slumped, gazing at the floor, trying to ignore the sounds of Brunner chewing. He was all right when it came to fighting the Emperor's customs men, or fleeing the city guards through midnight streets, but this perpetual, unremitting ordeal was more than his courage could endure. The reality of his situation suddenly smashed him flat as the last, foolish shred of hope deserted him. He had held out hope that somehow, by some trick of fate or stroke of fortune, he would escape this hideous situation. He had thought that, despite everything, he might be able to outwit his captor. But now he faced the cruel, harsh reality. There was no escape. In a dozen ways, his captor had seen to it, a hundred measures to crush the very thought from his mind.

  'What... what do you think... he will do to me?' Brega asked, his voice hollow, broken.

  Brunner stopped eating, stuffing the rest of the meat back into its pouch. He paused for a moment, as if to consider the question.

  'I've seen Vaulkberg's ogre pull limbs out of their sockets,' Brunner said, his voice emotionless. 'He's quite good at it. Of course, the judge also keeps an entire staff of professional torturers at the Reiksfang. Perhaps he'll let them have a go at you for a while. I've heard they can keep a man at the edge of death for weeks.'

  Brega broke out into a cold sweat, his swarthy skin paling beneath its dusky tones, as the bounty hunter's casual description of his end stabbed into his mind like a hot knife.

  'Of course, perhaps he'll just make you face Raubfalke, Vaulkberg's champion. I've heard that even Ludwig Schwarzhelm lost a fencing match to him. But somehow I think that Vaulkberg will have something more inventive in store for you than simple trial by combat.' Brunner suddenly looked away, pulling the helmet from his head. A look of intense concentration marked his weathered features. Brega began to mumble a half-coherent offer of wealth and fortune for the bounty hunter to consider. Brunner fixed the man with an angry glare.

  'Be quiet,' he hissed. 'We have company.'

  The bounty hunter's words brought Brega instantly from his mournful state. A new and more immediate fear stiffened his frame. Brega stared into the dark of the tunnel, his eyes trying to detect a trace of motion in the dark. The bounty hunter was silent beside him, his body tense, waiting.

  By degrees, a sound began to manifest itself. It was a strange, curious noise, like the clacking of wooden shoes across a cobblestone lane, or the sound of a fisherman cracking open a lobster's shell. It was a strange, indecipherable sound, and it made Brega slink back towards the bounty hunter, taking refuge in the evil he knew.

  The sound grew louder and louder. The horses reacted as it drew closer, stomping their booted hooves and tugging at the ropes that bound them to iron spikes set into the floor. The bounty hunter remained vigilant, the strange repeating crossbow held at the ready, the lantern burning brightly. There was still no sign of whatever was making the sound, but it was growing louder, definitely advancing towards the camp.

  At last, the light from the lantern revealed something large, shiny and black in the dark. Brunner fired the instant he saw the reflected light. The sound of the bolt punching through a solid mass was punctuated by a liquid, popping sound. But whatever it was did not cry out in pain; it merely advanced more quickly. Brega gave a shriek of fright, and leapt to his feet making to run past the frightened horses. Brunner spared a glance at him, stamping his foot down on the dangling length of rope that bound the man's hands together. Brega's flight was brought short, and he crashed to the cold stone floor. It seemed he had not learned his lesson the last time he had tried to flee.

  Brunner fired again as the shape scuttled forward. Once more the bolt found its mark, punching into the oncoming mass. Once again the creature did not seem to notice the injury it had been dealt. As it charged more fully into the light, its form was revealed: it was an immense black beetle, a mammoth insect as large as a pony, huge rending mandibles spread before its armoured head. Multi-faceted blue eyes gleamed weirdly in the feeble light. Brunner's bolts had impacted against the insect's thorax, and from each wound, pulpy green paste bubbled and oozed, like rancid porridge boiling from a pot.

  Brunner sighted at the monster and fired again, the bolt smashing into the insect's eye. The eye broke apart under the impact, and a burst of pulpy material spewed from the wound.

  The insect kept coming, the long antennae before its head weaving about, the mandibles clacking together like the jaws of a bear trap. Brunner fired again, the bolt smashing through a leg segment. A thin fluid drooled from the injury and the insect's pace slowed a fraction. Yet still it came.

  Brega wailed in horror as he saw the seemingly unkillable monster scuttle forward. The horses echoed the man's fear. Brunner drew his sword, glaring at the monster. The insect did not meet his gaze. Its antennae were twitching before its damaged head, seemingly intent on the struggling horses. Brunner turned around, severing the rope holding Brega's horse with one clean stroke. The horse turned and galloped away as soon as it was freed. The beetle, antennae still twitching, scurried after the fleeing animal. Brunner shook his head and sheathed his sword.

  'Damn things are like orcs,' he commented. 'They don't know when to lie down and die.' He looked at Brega. The man was still curled up on the ground, his head hidden within his hands. Brunner kicked the man with the toe of his boot.

  'Rest time is over,' he said. 'We're moving on.'

  Brega looked around, turning his head to try and find the monster. 'Where did it go?' he asked.

  'It must hunt by something other than sight down here, in all this dark,' Brunner replied, lifting a heavy blanket to Paychest's back. 'Movement, if my guess is right. I just gave it something a bit more lively than us to occupy it.' Brega looked around again, noting for the first time that his horse was gone.

  'Hope you like walking,' the bounty hunter commented as he tied a bundle to the back of his packhorse. 'You'll have a fair amount to do even when we get out of here.'

  A FEW HOURS later the passages they had been following emptied out into a vast, cavernous main hall. The hall was hundreds of feet tall, the upper limits of the pillars supporting it disappearing into darkness overhead. The columns were vast, like giant trees, so wide that six men would be hard pressed to link hands around their bases. The far ends of the hall stretched beyond the vision of the two men, vanishing perhaps half a mile away where the inky darkness became absolute. At first, Brega thought that they had emerged outside, so bright was the vista, so immediately did the sense of pressure lessen. But the smuggler's elation soon dissipated as he saw that they were still in the subterranean world of Karag-dar.

  This section of the main hall was lit by some means that Brega could not fathom. He could not have guessed that he was seeing distilled sunlight, captured and reflected a dozen times over by crystal lenses scattered like a series of sentinels between the main hall and the side of the mountain far above. The light came down as a grey filmy thing, reflected from the white columns and pillars that supported the ceiling. Arches spread between the pillars, ornamental supports from which had once hung tapestries and banners depicting the
triumphs and glories of the Ever-Kingdom. But such glories had long since rotted away, claimed by the ages. The sombre, silent statues of bearded dwarf warriors loomed from the walls, each scarred by axe and hammer and defaced by crude goblin glyphs.

  In the centre of the hall, the shallow water channel emptied into a wide pool before diverting north and south to bear its life-giving waters to deeper halls within the mountain. The light gleamed and danced upon the waters, casting weird shadows upon the forest of pillars and the rubble piles where some had fallen. A low gallery and an upper walkway wound among the pillars, leading toward chambers and tunnels even higher in the mountain.

  Brunner observed these carefully before leading the way into the hall, his keen gaze constantly alert for goblins. He was not certain how far the Black Fangs' territory extended, but it would be in keeping with their vile and craven nature to lurk upon the upper walkways and pepper an enemy with arrows rather than trading sword strokes.

  AT LAST, SATISFIED that no goblin waited upon the upper floors, and that the piles of rubble were likewise clear, Brunner began to lead the way into the main hall. It would only take a day or so now to reach the Reikland side of Karag-dar, but the bounty hunter was intent on remaining wary every step of the way.

  The arrow nearly placed itself squarely in Brunner's face. Had the bounty hunter not hesitated, warned by some sudden feeling of unease, it would have struck him down. Instead, as Brunner's step faltered, the arrow swept past the visor of his helm. Brunner dropped into a crouch at once, taking cover behind Paychest, pulling Brega down with a savage tug on the man's leg.