Best Laid Plans (55 page)

Demons struck the shield ceiling with a succession of thuds and a number of men dropped beneath the weight. More screams came from the perimeter and then a cheer went up. The demon-women were screeching and flapping furiously, and blood was showering down through the gaps in the shields. Starn made another thrust with his sword and then shifted his shield to peer out.

Massive pole arms were ripping into the demons from beyond the edges of the testudo whilst squads of hoplites surrounded the undead on three sides, thrusting with murderous precision. Hagalle circled the fray on his destrier, sword waving in the air as he barked commands in a voice hoarse from shouting. The dead fell away from all but one side, but even there they were turning to assault the pike men.

‘Testudo!’
Starn bellowed, confident his unit would obey with absolute precision. ‘Phalanx to the left.’

Shields were brought down, admitting the glare of the sun. With practised discipline the soldiers pivoted until they faced the left in a square eight ranks deep.

‘Heave!’ Starn shouted, and the phalanx slammed into the backs of the dead, driving them onto the blades of the guisarmes.

***

Shader saw the shadow advancing on the Ipsissimus and bent low over the mare’s neck as the wind flared his coat out behind him. One hand held the reins, the other gripped the hilt of the gladius, the only chance he’d have against Callixus. Soldiers threw themselves from his path and undead were trampled underfoot as he closed the gap. Something swooped from the sky towards the Ipsissimus, and for a moment Shader took his eye off the wraith. The horse whinnied and reared and Shader flew from its back, pitching heavily to the ground. Callixus must have turned and spooked the horse. He loomed over Shader with his black blade raised and red eyes glaring as the mare galloped away.

Shader shook his head and tried to clear it. Panic ensued when he realized he’d dropped the gladius. He tried to rise but his legs were jelly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the glint of the shortsword, scrabbled about for its hilt, but when his fingers closed around it, Callixus had turned from him and was rushing towards the Ipsissimus.

A surge of energy from the sword drove away the fug from his mind. He rolled to his feet, new vitality coursing through his veins. The sword was purring as if it knew what was at stake.

Shader broke into a run, but something barged into his side. He lashed out with the gladius, striking rotting flesh. More cadavers lurched at him and soon he was fighting for his life. Drawing his longsword, he fought with both weapons, weaving and cutting, thrusting and hacking, forcing a path. When he broke through, he was still fifty yards away. A grey creature with the wings of a bat and a tail like a scorpion’s had cornered the Ipsissimus. And—Ain!—Rhiannon was tearing towards them like a crazy martyr willing to give her life for the Templum. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not with so much left unspoken.

But all Shader could do was watch in despair as the creature grabbed at the Monas around the Ipsissimus’s neck and Callixus moved in for the kill.

***

‘ain, help me,’
Callixus prayed over and over again.
‘Ain, help me.’

He rushed towards the Ipsissimus with the thoughts of Sektis Gandaw echoing through his mind. ‘Kill him! Bring me the Monas!’

Ikrys had got there first, but still Callixus was compelled. How could Ain forgive him for this? How could he atone for the slaying of the ruler of the Templum?

Ikrys ripped the Monas from the Ipsissimus’s neck and raised his tail to strike.

‘Ain, help me!’

‘A cigarette, a cigarette, a cigarette…’

‘Doctor? Is that you?’

‘Callixus?’ said the voice of Cadman. It sounded thin and wispy. ‘Gandaw must be distracted. Good gracious, I can see through your eyes! I thought I’d never see beyond this test tube.’

‘Doctor,’
Callixus said.
‘I need your help. Please!’

‘I think he’s noticed me! There’s so little time. Find me, one day, if you can,’ Cadman pleaded. ‘It’s dark here and I’m afraid. Once more, Callixus, I release you. Remember me…’ Cadman’s voice receded like a distant memory and suddenly Sektis Gandaw’s resumed. Only, he didn’t seem to have realized what Cadman had done.

Shackles fell away from the former Grand Master and he sped straight for Ikrys. As the creature’s tail darted towards the Ipsissimus, Callixus’ black sword swept down and severed its barb. Ikrys screamed and dropped the Monas. With savage fury, the gargoyle pounced at Callixus, talons cutting where no mortal weapon could harm the wraith. Callixus tried to make room to swing his sword, but Ikrys was too fast, too ferocious. The gargoyle grappled with him as if his body were flesh, bit into his neck with venomous fangs. Callixus screamed and his sword fell to the ground. Ikrys’s hands fixed on either side of the wraith’s helm and forced Callixus to gaze into swirling black eyes.

‘No!’
Callixus cried as a molten river appeared around him.

‘Taste the Abyss, spectre,’ Ikrys said. ‘For that is your new home.’

Flames gushed from the magma, which squelched like quicksand, tugging at Callixus’ spirit.

‘No!’
he screamed again.

But then the flames consumed him.

***

Rhiannon snatched up the black blade and swung with all her might. The gargoyle screeched and flapped into the air, gouts of black blood spilling from its side. The Ipsissimus stood petrified, his face the colour of death. He merely stared at the gilt Monas lying at his feet. Rhiannon lunged for it, but the gargoyle was quicker, slapping her aside with its wings. She thrust with the sword, but it swayed away and raked her shoulder with its talons. Her arm went cold and she switched the sword to her left hand. She couldn’t let him take the Monas. Not now. Not after all the sacrifices.

The gargoyle made a play for it, but Rhiannon jabbed it back. Still the Ipsissimus did nothing. Footsteps were pounding up from behind, but Rhiannon didn’t dare to look. The gargoyle swiped at her face, she ducked, but then its other hand grabbed her sword arm and shook the blade from her grasp. She spun and aimed a punch at its head, but it twisted her wrist and threw her to the ground. With one hand it claimed the Monas, and with the other it gripped her throat, forcing her to stare into its hellish eyes. Rhiannon twisted her head to the side, but it tightened its grip. She was choking. Choking—

Something cannoned into the gargoyle, knocking it to its back. Rhiannon rolled and saw Shader atop the creature, trying to find a way through its flailing hands. It smothered Shader with its wings, knocking the gladius from his grasp. Shader threw a punch that snapped the gargoyle’s head back, but the creature dislodged him with a whack from the stump of its tail. Rhiannon picked up the black sword again and took a swipe as the gargoyle flapped into the air. It tucked his legs out of the way of her blow and sped off towards the far end of the Homestead.

Shader was up in an instant and retrieved his gladius. With fury in his eyes he turned on the Ipsissimus.

‘You did nothing!’ he raged. ‘Nothing!’

Rhiannon tried to touch him, tried to share in his despair, but Shader shrugged off her advance and ran towards the ridge where the liche that had once been Dr Cadman awaited Ikrys with open arms wreathed in amber fire.

There were tears streaking the Ipsissimus’s face, but Rhiannon couldn’t go to him; couldn’t risk another rejection of her touch.

Something tugged her robe from behind and she turned to see Sammy gazing up at her, his face filthy, eyes blank and distant. He must have dragged his way to her even though he was exhausted to the point of death. She stroked his cheek and then pulled his face to her chest, running her fingers through his matted hair and hoping the end, when it came, would be swift.

***

Even the undead turned to face the figure on the ridge as the gargoyle landed and offered it the Monas.

Shader continued to run, weaving in and out of the stationary combatants strewn across the battlefield. The men looked too exhausted to move, too overcome with despair. The cadavers just seemed forgotten, and lacking volition of their own they simply stood there. A few surviving demons spiralled into the east, but all else appeared frozen in time.

Shader barged through a cluster of undead and sprinted for the slope leading up to the ridge.

Just before Sektis Gandaw’s hands reached the Monas, the gargoyle drew it back. Amber flared from it, lancing skywards, searing a hole in the firmament. The skeleton that was Sektis Gandaw threw its arms up and then watched as the clouds were sucked towards the hole. They swirled and coalesced, forming a pattern like a gigantic skull.

Still Shader ran, knees burning as he fought his way up a scree bank.

‘Blightey!’ Sektis Gandaw cried out as the skull turned towards him, the eye cavities filling with a bloody hue. Whilst he was distracted, the gargoyle sprang at him, reaching for the pieces of the statue that bathed his hands in amber light.

Shader reached the overhang leading to the ridge and had to sheathe his gladius to find hand holds. He swung a leg over the edge and then rolled to the top. Drawing the gladius once more, he dived straight at the gargoyle’s back. The creature must have sensed the attack as it squawked and flapped a few feet into the air, carrying Sektis Gandaw with it, dangling by the wrists. Shader skidded beneath them, rolled, and came up with the sword ready.

The amber in Sektis Gandaw’s hands flared and the gargoyle released its grip. As Sektis Gandaw floated slowly down beside Shader, an aperture opened above him admitting cobalt skies that washed away the apparition of the skull. The gargoyle flapped its wings furiously as a gigantic black fist soared through the opening and struck it full in the face. The gargoyle went into a spin, dropping the Monas. Sektis Gandaw snatched it out of the air as the black hand gave the gargoyle an almighty slap, sending it into a tumbling spin. With more frantic flapping, it righted itself, but saw the hand racing in pursuit. With a screech of utter horror it dived for the edge of the Homestead and disappeared. The black hand wavered for a moment, as if searching for its prey, and then retreated to the aperture.

‘Kill him! Kill him now! Kill him for Nous!’ Dave the Slave clambered over the lip of the ridge, eyes burning with zeal, lips drawn back in a feral snarl.

Shader raised the gladius to strike Sektis Gandaw’s exposed back, glanced at Dave as the hunchback climbed to his feet, shaking his fists in anticipation—and hesitated.

Sektis Gandaw turned, amber fire snaking about his body and striking the ground. A shockwave rolled across the ridge and Shader tumbled from the precipice. He clutched the edge with one hand and clung to the gladius with the other. Pain lanced through his shoulder and his fingers began to slip. Dave threw himself to his belly and grabbed Shader’s wrist.

‘No!’ he yelled. ‘No! You must not fail!’

The cobalt hole in the sky widened as a figure seated upon a throne came through. Shader looked into the frenzied eyes of Dave the Slave, watched the movement of his slavering jaws, and recoiled in horror.

‘Hold on,’ Dave growled. ‘I am the voice of Nous. You must not fail!’

‘No,’ Shader said. ‘No!’

He slipped through Dave’s grip and tumbled down the scree bank with the hunchback’s screams in his ears.

Shader’s head cracked against stone and he lay supine, gazing helplessly at the figure on the throne holding out the serpent’s body of the Statue of Eingana with a single amber fang blazing like lightning. The liche that had once been Cadman accepted the statue even as Dave slid down the slope to Shader’s side.

‘Get up!’ he cried. ‘Get up before it’s too late.’

It was already too late. Shader watched the liche slot the other fang inside the mouth of Eingana and then press home an eye. Too late for him, too late for the Earth, too late for Nous and all his damned creation. The liche clawed at the Ipsissimal Monas, prised the second eye free and inserted it in the head of the serpent. It raised the Statue of Eingana above its head, amber bursting from it with scintillating luminosity. The man on the throne stretched out his arms and the liche started to back towards him, the glare from the statue so intense the two figures were just silhouettes to Shader. The liche shook the statue in triumph and turned to face the throne, but then its skull shattered into a thousand pieces and a thunder-crack shook the ridge. The liche fell, pitching the statue to the earth.

Shader tried to rise, but his head was pounding. A small figure holding a long smoking tube appeared above the far edge of the ridge. He dropped the weapon, vaulted to the surface, and sprinted for the statue with a black cloak billowing behind him.