Kormak 01 - Stealer of Flesh (10 page)

“At least they are not coming this way,” Kormak said. “And they won’t be in the tower when we come calling.”

“How are you going to do this?”

“Leave the horse hobbled here and head down into the valley after dark. If it looks like we can, we’ll just head up the ridge road. If not, we climb the cliffside.”

“You sure you can do that in all that armour and stuff?”

“I was born in Aquilea. I learned to climb before I could walk.”

“You’re exaggerating, aren’t you?”

“Only a bit.”

“Well if you can climb it so can I.” He looked at her. She seemed small and frightened but she had pasted a look of determination on her face.

“You sure you can do this?”

“If I am not quieter than you I’ll pay you a silver piece.”

“If you’re not quieter than me, we both may be dead.”

“Then at least I won’t owe you my last farthing.”

“It might be better if you stayed here.”

“You don’t get it, do you? There’s nothing left for me. My brother is dead and possessed by a demon, my village is burned; there’s nowhere to go. I have nothing to lose and I have a chance to pay that bastard Massimo back.”

“What about your aunt?”

“I made her up.” He looked at her for a long time. He had not believed she could surprise him, but she had.

“Well, let’s find out if you made up the part about being stealthy as well.”

They moved quietly down the narrow path into the valley. It twisted down the hillside. Kormak realised that Petra was as good a huntress as she had claimed. The girl made no more noise than he did. She had her sling in her hands and her knife at the ready and for once she had stopped talking. He found that he missed her chatter now that it had ceased.

They reached the valley floor and he saw that there were still a number of camps scattered through the valley. Why were the forces split, he wondered? His best guess was that the different camps were the followers of different captains or nobles.

Slowly and carefully they moved forward. It was painstaking and tiring work. He could see that there were pickets set, and guards moving around. Did the moondogs really expect to be attacked here or was it that they did not trust each other or Massimo’s pets? Possibly it was all three reasons. It made life more difficult for him because even in the gloom, runners moved from camp to camp and men drifted backwards and forward between the fires, most likely visiting acquaintances and friends.

He gestured for Petra to freeze as he heard boots come clumping out of the dark. He held his blade ready to draw if they were noticed. Under the circumstances it would probably be better to use his hands. The sounds of combat would simply draw attention to them. They needed to pass unseen. Another terrifying howl rang out from above. It sounded like a soul in torment being bound into the form of a wolf.

“Another wolf-man is born,” said a voice in the darkness. There was fear in it.

“Massimo will make us invincible,” said another voice. “He brought Jaro back from the brink of death with his magic. His Wolves will drive the Sunlander bastards out of the mountains and Valkyria will be ours again.”

The voice spoke with a sort of booming false confidence that told Kormak its owner was scared and as much trying to convince himself as anyone listening. That provoked laughter.

“I have not noticed you volunteering, Alyx,” said the first voice. There was a sneer in it as well as laughter.

“I do my part. I don’t need to give up my soul for the land of our fathers. I leave that to heroes.” There was an ironic flourish on the word heroes. “We’re both too old for that. Leave it to the young and stupid.”

“I know what you mean,” said the first speaker, “but I would not say it too loudly in camp.”

“I won’t but who can hear us here?” There was a sound of a flask being unstoppered and its contents gulped down then passed around. Kormak cursed. It seemed like they had chosen to pass through the area where Massimo’s men slunk off to for a quiet drink. Alcohol was forbidden by many of the Lunar sects but such prohibitions had never bothered soldiers any, in Kormak’s experience. He looked over at Petra, fearing she might do something very stupid but she was just lying there, eyes wide and fearful, mouth open. She was afraid and Kormak did not blame her.

After what seemed like a long time, the men took a piss and headed back to their camp.

He lay very still, and his heartbeat and his breathing seemed very loud to him until the steps had passed away into the night. They pushed on to the foot of the hill. Kormak was starting to think that this might not be the cleverest thing he had ever done. It was going to be tricky getting out of the valley even if he killed Razhak and Massimo.

Well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

“You’re not taking the road then,” said Petra. They stood at the foot of the rock on which the tower stood. It was not a sheer face, just very steep and rocky and it became steeper the higher you went.

“It will be watched.”

“And so you’re going to climb up the cliff and then the wall.”

Kormak inspected it. “There’s enough light, we should be able to get up there in less than an hour.”

“If nobody spots us.”

“That’s true.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that you might be insane?”

“Surprisingly, I have.”

“Good because sane people don’t say the sort of things you say quite as calmly as you say them.”

“I can tell you’re scared again because you are talking too much.”

“Bloody right I am scared,” said Petra.

“Then don’t go on.”

“Yeah. I’ll just stay here in the middle of a moondog camp and wait for the sun to come up. What could possibly go wrong if I did that?”

“We’re going to climb a small mountain and break into a castle full of man-wolves, a demon and a wicked sorcerer. What could go wrong with that?”

“Neither option is very attractive but I will make the best of a bad choice.”

“That’s very wise of you.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

“I don’t have time to stand here all night debating with you. I am going up. Follow me if you can.”

“Follow you? I will be at the top before you.”

She was good as her word. He had seen her climbing ahead of him, agile as a cliff-dwelling monkey, passing swiftly and silently while he struggled for a foothold, never faltering where he scrambled on dislodged stones and prayed they did not attract the attention of anyone below. He was breathing very hard and sweating by the time he pulled himself over the edge of the cliff and looked up at the walls of the tower.

“You are blowing like a horse after a ten mile gallop,” Petra said with some satisfaction. “I thought you Aquileans could climb.”

“Next time I’ll let you wear my armour and carry my sword,” Kormak said. “We’ll see how you do.”

She inspected the walls herself. “These are pretty hard. We could use daggers to spike our way up the wall but that would make a lot of noise.”

“There’s a postern gate over there.”

“It’ll be locked and guarded.”

“I doubt it will be guarded. They are not besieged and they won’t be expecting an invasion by an army of two.”

“This Razhak knows you’re after him and he will have told Massimo. Also this is a wizard’s tower. It might be protected by magic.”

“It might be but you heard the men in the valley. Massimo is working magic. I doubt he has the strength to create a wolf and set a ward at the same time.”

“What about your friend, Razhak?”

“I doubt Massimo will let him cast any spells at all. He will be too worried by the consequences.”

“You’ve thought this out, haven’t you?”

“I had plenty of time while we were climbing the cliff.”

“You got your breath back yet?”

“I never lost it.”

“No. You were just letting me take a break, weren’t you?”

“I am generous that way.”

“You know how to open a postern gate?”

“I can slide a narrow blade through the gap at the edge of the door and lift the bar. If I can’t, we have some more climbing to do.”

“Let’s get on with it then.”

Kormak slid his dagger under the bar and lifted it up. He put his weight on the door and it swung open. There was a flight of stairs leading up: tight, narrow, spiralling and easily defensible. The sort of place where only one man could fight abreast at a time and a small group of defenders could hold a larger force for ages. He pushed on up them until he came to a landing, then paused and listened.

The howls and roars still echoed through the keep. He touched the Elder Sign on his chest. It was warm with the eddy currents of magic swirling around him. He put it back under his tunic so that if the magic became strong enough to light up the threaded moonsilver star in the talisman, it would not be visible and give his position away in the darkness.

Petra was behind him now, her knife in her hand. She moved cautiously and quietly along. Kormak stuck his head round the corner and looked along the corridor. It was empty. Torches flickered eerily, sending shadows dancing.

“Not a lot of guests here,” said Petra. Kormak kept his mouth tightly shut and gestured for her to do the same. This was not the time or place for flippant jokes. A mistake here could cost them their lives.

What did she expect anyway? There was a reason why Massimo’s army was camped in the valley below. Mortal men would not want to share the keep with a sorcerer and the monsters he was creating. Anyone they encountered here was likely to be strange and dangerous.

He stepped out into the corridor and began to walk confidently along it. He had long ago learned that just the sight of someone doing this in a place where they should not have been could disarm suspicion for crucial seconds.

The howls echoed through the corridors and seemed to resonate within his bones. He guessed that whoever Massimo was transforming was not enjoying the process. This sort of magic was rarely painless and always unpleasant. He followed the sounds as best he could, moving towards the centre of the keep.

Eventually, they came to what must once have been a temple chamber. There were still statues in alcoves around the walls. A series of inscribed Lunar circles intended to channel power had been etched into the floor and filled with moonsilver. It glowed as the light of the moon flooded the room through the open shutters in the ceiling. It illuminated a naked man chained to the altar. He was the one doing the howling.

Around the chamber men stood stone faced as sentries, their faces like stone, the effort of concealing their emotions engraved on their features. A youth with a more than passing resemblance to Petra watched as a tall, powerful man stood at the altar and chanted.

Massimo was robed all in black and his hair was jet black save for two patches of white at the temples. His beard was long and black with a badger stripe of white in it, and it flowed to his waist. In his hand he held a staff which was tipped with a silver crescent moon. Runes glowed along its length as he chanted. Witchfire danced from the staff to the chains holding the man as power was transferred from one to the other.

The cloying smell of essence of nightbloom incense filled the air, along with something else, the heady, hallucinogenic reek of powdered black lotus as it burned.

“That’s Tam,” Petra said, pointing to the youth standing beside the wizard. He stood full in the moonbeam and Kormak could see their faces had a family resemblance. He could have picked the youth out as her brother even if she had not told him.

Kormak unsheathed his sword.

“You’re ready to kill someone now, aren’t you?” Petra’s voice was very quiet and he could hear the fear in it. The runes on his blade glowed. The amulet was warm against his chest. Powerful magic was at work here.

A shadow detached itself from a nearby wall. It belonged to a man. He had obviously seen Kormak. His outline blurred, there was strange stench in the air and suddenly he was larger than he had been, part man, part wolf. It opened its mouth and howled as it sprang.

The wolf-man’s jaws were open, slaver dripped from its fangs. Its arms were outstretched to claw. Kormak stepped forward and struck. Its flesh sizzled as his blade bit through its neck and severed its head from its shoulders. Its still thrashing body flopped to the ground one way, its head rolled off in another. A pool of pink pus was already starting to surround the body as it transformed back.

More of the wolf-men bounded forward. Kormak counted at least six. The largest of them, a giant with a white ruff around its grey neck and bright mad eyes, howled and gestured and the pack bounded forward.

Kormak struck left and right, severing a limb, hacking through a chest. They slashed at him with their steel-hard claws, ripping his tunic, breaking links in his mail. He felt a pain in his side as one of them drew blood. Time and again they struck at him and he bounded to one side, chopping and stabbing as he weaved through their attacks, blocking blows with cuts that severed limbs and left wolf-men clutching at stumps.

It was obvious they were overconfident, not used to being hurt. They had never encountered anything that could break their magical protections before. One of them got close enough to try and rip out his throat with its great jaws. Kormak wedged his forearm between its jaws and brought his blade forward into its stomach. He heard it sizzle as it pierced flesh. The wolf-man howled this time in agony and Kormak pulled his arm free and punched it in the snout. It fell backwards.

In the interim two more Wolves had bounded forward. Each took him by the arm, claws digging into mail and threatening to tear through the leather undershirt. Kormak felt the enormous strength of the creatures and knew he was helpless against it. He allowed himself to fall backwards pushed by the creature’s momentum. His sword dropped from his hand but he managed to get one arm free. He pulled out his amulet from beneath his tunic. The five pointed star of the Elder Sign glowed hot in its setting. He jammed it into the eye of one wolf-man. It let go as it roared and clutched its eye in a pain-filled gesture that was peculiarly human.