“This is the place of sorrow, of stillness, of loss. We wait for more, except more never comes, we wait. We know you, we recognise you, we see your path. You are to deny mercy to all who meet your blade. You are to reap the harvest, you are to tear the lungs from those who call themselves… Sworn. They blaspheme the Erthe and dabble with that which should be left alone.”
Levant raised his hands to stay the voice. “These things I already know. Tell me where I may find the weapon they call Blood Eagle.”
The whispers hissed, the ground beneath his feet shook.
“The Blood Eagle is cursed. It has been lost to men for hundreds of years. It was hidden but is found. Sworn red cloaks took the trail of tears to Deepings Marsh in the northwest. They found the blade you seek in the sacred shallows. Long forgotten, it was gifted to the gods many generations ago. It has slept at the bottom of the shallows until now. The red cloaks have yet to learn how to wield the blade, for it has not woken. It needs to feel revenge in its owner to awaken. So far the red cloaks have not achieved this, but if they bring it to the Sworn priests in the north the blade will be woken. You must travel to the red cloaks, destroy their leader and take the blade from him.” The voice weakened and dissipated.
“Where are the red cloaks? How do I find them?” Levant whispered.
He waited. He heard a distant shuffling as if countless feet passed above. He drew breath, bided his time. After what seemed an age the voice returned.
“We have found the red cloaks. We will place you in their midst. You must strike at the heart of the viper’s nest. You will be unseen until the first blow. Make good your advantage, they can defeat you, you can defeat them. The odds are even, fight well, win respect back for the dead. The Sworn have taken our honour and dignity, they have defiled the graves and memories of the ancestors. Judgement needs to be passed, balance needs to be restored.”
Levant felt movement, the earth at his feet opened up, he fell and was swallowed whole by the ground. The soil consumed him, filled his lungs and throat. He breathed damp loam deep into his chest and felt it course through his veins. He saw the faces of those who had gone before. Their eyes mesmerised him, the emptiness of their hearts smothered him. He felt a breeze on his skin and opened his eyes. He was in a camp. It was night, stars shone in the frigid sky, he stood beside a fire, soldiers lay asleep at his feet.
Guards patrolled the perimeter, he was unseen, invisible. There were at least twenty soldiers. The barrow wight had spoken the truth, they wore red cloaks and were undead like him, however they were held in thrall by the Sworn. They behaved like living men. Why did they need sleep when he did not? He cast the question aside to the matter in hand; he had to find the Blood Eagle and slay its keeper.
There was one tent. A giveaway. Why did leaders betray their status so easily? Perhaps the commander felt invulnerable, perhaps he was… to any normal threat, mused Levant. With a light step Levant entered the tent, a shadow amongst shadows. He knelt beside the sleeping commander and watched his face for a moment before holding his hand across the man’s mouth and slitting his throat.
He knew this alone would not be enough and he cradled the man’s head in his arms almost tenderly, before twisting. Neck bones broke like rotten teeth, the man’s breathing ceased and his spirit passed, finally, to a better place, no longer held in thrall by necromancy.
Levant looked round the tent and found what he had come for. Under the commander’s bed lay the sword; a plain leather scabbard held the blade he sought. Levant could not help himself, he unsheathed the Blood Eagle and gazed at it in wonder. So this was what mage forged steel looked like; ancient and magnificent. They had found a way of bringing life to steel, allowing it to feed on the life it took from others. The Blood Eagle was a demon blade possessing its own power. Levant felt nothing from the blade but knew more would come… in time.
There were two ways to leave the camp. In silence or fury. He wanted to send a message to the Sworn. He chose fury. Levant marched through the camp slaying the sleeping red cloaks. Those that woke and came for him, he welcomed with open arms and a cry of joy. The soldiers died quickly in a red mist under the stars, the cold reclaiming their flesh.
Levant wielded the Blood Eagle and was amazed at how light it felt, his sword arm was one with the weapon. As he struck at his enemy in a steel blur, he felt detached, becoming an observer in the melee. He looked down on himself, watching the dance of death.
The Blood Eagle hummed, a tingle spread up his arm into his body. The blade sang, a high pitched keening filled the air deepening on the down stroke, lightening on the upstroke. As it took life a scream filled the air. Levant cried out, full of battle lust, as the red cloaks came to him and gave up their lives.
The killing was good, joyous. He would make the Sworn tremble, he would make them fear the Draugr named Levant.
Chapter 13: Cave Tyrant
The stench assaulted Sabine’s senses.
She saw Whisper, the brave dog was impaled on a cave tyrant’s horn. Whisper was still alive, writhing in agony. Sabine saw the dog’s pain as the sightless tyrant drank his blood, crushing his bones at the same time.
Sabine fingered her throwing knives, the mercy kill flew from her fingers; in a blur her blade severed Whisper’s carotid artery, the light went out of the dog’s eyes and he hung limp in the tyrant’s jaws. Sabine’s other blades flicked through the air entering the thing’s soft head, disappearing into its brain.
The tyrant quivered, tensing at the last minute before changing colour from green to yellow. It slumped to the ground unmoving. Sabine’s blades were laced with blood rift, a poison she had procured in New Haven. She had not used the poison before, she had to admit it was impressive. The cave tyrant was huge, the size of two horses, more maggot than anything else.
She went forwards and recovered her blade from Whisper, the others were lost somewhere deep in the cave tyrant’s brain. There was no way she was going to open up its head. She held her hand over her nose and mouth, its stench making her eyes water.
Forcan came forwards and knelt down beside Whisper. His hands shook, he tenderly lifted his dog from the ground. Sabine saw tears in his eyes. She said nothing and made room for him to pass and take the lead. They edged around the cave tyrant and pressed on down the passageway. Sabine was concerned that Forcan had his arms full. What if they ran into another of those things? She said nothing.
They walked in silence another twenty minutes, the passage continued to descend. Finally, the gradient eased, the floor levelling out, they had reached a junction. Sabine stood still, then it hit her; they were in the labyrinth she had escaped from two days earlier; the labyrinth she had stolen the box from.
Fear flooded through her, then resignation. Wasn’t it her plan to revisit the labyrinth anyway? It was just sooner than she expected. She wanted to return to New Haven first and prepare for her descent into this hell. She sighed, well obviously the gods had other plans.
She turned to Forcan. “We’re here, we’re in the banshee caves. New Haven is somewhere up ahead, five maybe six miles from where we entered this place, except there’s no way of knowing which direction to take here, it’s a maze.”
The light had gone out of Forcan’s eyes. He looked down at Whisper in his arms, “I have to leave you my friend, I have to go. I’ll see you and Serena on the otherside.”
Forcan knelt and gently placed Whisper’s body in an alcove. He gritted his teeth and patted the dog’s head one last time. “Bastard gods, damn you all to hell.” His bitterness hung in the air.
Sabine waited. She knew grief when she saw it, her heart went out to Forcan. He was a broken man, but a broken man with nothing to lose, and more dangerous for it.
Forcan turned to Sabine and held out his hand. She looked down and saw her two missing blades. They gleamed dimly up at her. “How did you…?” her words ended. She took her blades resheathing them, it felt good to have her full complement back again.
“I took that th
ing’s spirit gland. It’ll show us the way, these caves were its domain. We’ll read its memory from this.” Forcan opened his other hand showing her a bloody shell like concretion. He had somehow delved into that thing’s brain retrieving her blades and its spirit gland. She looked at Forcan, eyes wide.
“Thank you for my blades.” She hesitated. “I’ll follow you then.”
Forcan met her gaze and nodded. “Let’s go.”
He led the way holding the spirit gland, reading what lay within. Sabine knew Forcan was using arcane magic; she let him concentrate. They made good progress and covered ground quickly. On a few occasions they heard noises and shrieks from side passages but Forcan successfully guided them away from the sounds.
They came across a more structured area. The walls were smooth, metallic and Sabine noticed symbols etched on their surface; the same symbols that were etched on the box she had taken. This area was different, older than the rest of the labyrinth. She could see more this time, with the help of Forcan’s light.
Forcan turned. “This is like the Rain Pools near Sarenossa. The same walls and symbols, it could be the same place. Look there’s a room up ahead.” Forcan pointed and before Sabine could speak he was in the lead again, forging ahead. She looked around fingering her blades nervously.
“I get a bad feeling about this,” she muttered to herself. She followed Forcan as he approached the room.
Sabine looked over his shoulder into the chamber. It was larger than she had imagined although the last time it was dark, she reminded herself. The room was low ceilinged and at its centre lay a dais. Forcan took a step towards it.
“I don’t like this,” Sabine said aloud. “We shouldn’t linger in this place.”
Forcan did not look back, instead he reached the dais and explored it with his hands. His fingers came across a slot in its surface. “Give me the box you found.”
Sabine hesitated then pulled off her pack. She fished out the box and put it into Forcan’s hand. He looked at it briefly and inserted it into the slot in the dais. A deep click and a low hum came from the dais. Flickering lights blinked up from within the floor, Sabine took a step backwards, fingers on her blades.
A translucent face appeared in the air in front of the dais. Without thinking Sabine threw her knives at the shimmering face. She saw her blades pass harmlessly through the vision striking the wall opposite then falling to the floor. She looked on, stunned.
An otherworldly voice spoke and she saw the shimmering face’s lips move. She slunk around the room to retrieve her knives, eyes glued to the face.
“It’s two weeks since the tactical exchange. We’ve heard nothing from the surface. We’re in lockdown. Lieutenants Summers, Hayes, Barlow and myself are awaiting further orders. We’ve enough food and water for sixty days, after that, who knows? Radiation sensors on the surface are off the scale. The sky’s dark. It was only supposed to be a limited exchange… to send a message. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. We’ve families on the surface, they may’ve been lucky, they may’ve made it to the shelters in time? If you find this, may your god go with you, ours has forsaken us.”
The face shimmered and faded. The lights in the dais blinked and died, the box popped up from its slot.
“What in Falinor’s name was that?” Sabine asked.
“Ancient magic,” replied Forcan. “Something bad happened here, its memory is trapped in that box, it’s some kind of key. This place was here before New Haven, built deep underground to hide from something above. There’s much fear and hatred in that voice, this is a place of death, its memory permeates the walls. I can see why the banshees remain down here, it is written they will come back to the surface to reign over men’s hearts when darkness returns to the surface. The voice said their sky was dark. Our skies have darkened too with the necromancers and their allies, the Sworn, with their undead to the north. It’s as if various threads are conspiring to unite, to bring the darkness back to the surface.”
“I feel as if we’re being played, there’s something not quite right here,” Sabine’s voice shook. She stepped towards the dais and looked down at the box. A tiny green light was flashing on its side.
“You should keep it.” Forcan nodded. “It might come in useful if you ever get to the tunnels under the Rain Pools.” He picked up the box and handed it to her. She took it reluctantly returning it to her pack.
“Now, we need to get out of here. New Haven and the imperial library must be somewhere above us.” Forcan held out the cave tyrant’s spirit gland and moved towards an opening opposite the dais.
They were on the move again. Sabine reflected on what had happened, she did not understand. She knew one thing however; she had to find her sister and get the hell out of New Haven. The city had seemed like a sanctuary up until now. From what she could see New Haven was going to be the epicentre of a new war; a war of magic.
She did not want to be around to witness the carnage that would ensue.
~
The banshee wraiths congealed in the darkness. They so wanted to feed on the fear in men’s hearts, they were hungry, their time incarcerated had been too long. They were pleased to see the girl returned so soon, they had not expected her presence this early after her escape from the labyrinth.
The cave tyrant’s encounter was been a stroke of luck, its demise had given the girl the means to navigate the labyrinth. They had not needed to intervene, which made things simpler. They could sit back and watch… wait a bit longer. They had endured so long, a little more time would not matter.
The banshee wraiths let out a blood curdling shriek which carried for miles through the labyrinth; their prison, their chrysalis. Freedom was coming, soon. The girl was the key, they would feed once more on the hearts of men.
Life would be good.
Chapter 14: Sally Forth
Raven chewed her bread in silence.
They went to the market after the city walls. Raven was worried about Jack, he had not said anything since she had dealt with Valin. It had to be done; he would have killed them. The patrons in the busy tavern paid them no heed. A blind girl with a sighted man was not noteworthy. The market always brought people to this tavern. The sound of drinking and laughter; these were good sounds, happy sounds, mused Raven.
“How do you see?” Jack asked. “I mean how do you get around like you do? Up there on the walls, you moved so fast, you took that man down…”
“I’m blind yes, but I see different things, I can let… different things in, subtle things. I call it my second sight. Movement, smell, perception, I just see,” Raven replied. “The Holy See’er took my eyes when I was born. They believe eyes of the new-born see the truth of the world, they’ve not been tainted by the lies of this life, of this living. Their Holy Mother is allowed to select twenty new-borns a year and take their eyes. No one knows what they do with the eyes. I remember nothing of it, my family was selected. I was selected. The soldiers came, my father stood up to them and paid the price with his life… they took my eyes. So… they took my father and my eyes. That was a long time ago. I just see differently, that’s all.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “That’s barbaric, I don’t understand that thinking. If I were you, I’d want revenge.”
“Believe me Jack, I think about that every day, it’s what keeps me going, that, and keeping my younger sister, Sabine, out of trouble. She’s a free spirit, a loner, she’s got certain skills that allow her to get into places that others can’t. She’s able to get things for people… for a fee. That’s how we get by Jack, we seek and find things, or we take things and sell them on.”
“Thieves,” Jack said bluntly.
Raven smiled. “Yes Jack, we’re thieves, a goodly profession in a city this size, don’t you think?”
“Risky though,” Jack said.
“Yes, Sabine has given me cause for concern more than once.”
“But this time is different?” Jack pressed.
“Yes, this
job was risky, but we had fore knowledge. A way in, a way out, we knew the guards’ movements. It should’ve been no problem for Sabine. The request was for a shadow scroll kept in the imperial library.”
“A shadow scroll?”
“Yes, they can be used to summon beasts to do your bidding, very powerful. They’re handed down from one mage to another, they’re valuable. That’s why they’re kept under lock and key, to keep them from people like you and me.”
Jack smiled at the rhyme in Raven’s speech. Raven’s face however was serious.
“Sabine should’ve been in and out in one night. We went over every angle of the job. It was going to work, it should’ve worked. It was sweet.”
“So what do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she was double crossed by the contractor, but why? I don’t think so, he’s a trusted fence, a middle man acting on behalf of an anonymous buyer. His reputation is everything, if he started double crossing people his work would dry up, he’d end up with a knife in his back. No, I don’t think so. And anyway if she was caught, they’d have tortured her and would’ve come for me, but so far they haven’t.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“There it is.”
“Go on.”
“I want you to retrace her steps, go back into the library; find her Jack, find Sabine.”
Jack was silent.
“Do this for me Jack Spence, I ask you from my heart.”
Jack took a mouthful of ale and swallowed. The ale was bitter, alien to him, just how he felt. He had nothing but his life to lose. Then again he had lost his life months ago, back in New York when the terrorist bioweapon was unleashed. Words welled up in his throat and spilled out.
“I’ll do it.”
Raven smiled and nodded. “Good, thank you. Let’s get back, we’ve work to do.”
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