Born Of Darkness (Book 7) (7 page)

“I can see this is going to get expensive. It’ll be interesting when the Auditor pays me a visit.”

“What a thrilling life you lead.”

“We can’t all be bold monster hunters. Well, not anymore.” Gerd looked serious. “How many weapons will you need the truesilver essence for?”

“As much as you can get me.”

“You planning on starting your own mercenary company?”

“The King’s bodyguards will need it and there may be people with me.”

“Oh there will be people with you all right. Me and some of my lads.”

“Better make sure they come with all their gear.”

“They’ll have alchemical banefire and sunflares.”

“Trick your lads out with every ward and rune you’ve got. We have no idea what this thing is capable of.”

“Other than shredding you, you mean. That’s quite enough for me.”

“You have a Shadowhound?”

“I have a pack of them. Take your arm off quick as look at you. You think we’re going to need trackers?”

“It depends on how good the local Diviners are.”

Gerd glanced around. “You are in the Imperial Palace. The walls are an arm-span thick and covered in elder signs. There are wardstones built into the support pillars. Most of the household is scryer-shielded. I doubt the Archmage Eldarak himself could perform a halfway decent divination in this place. I’ll bring the hounds. To tell the truth it’ll do me good to see someone else foot the bill for feeding them for a bit. The bastards eat more than all the brothers put together and that’s saying something. Has to be prime beef as well. They’re picky as a bunch of Selenean epicures. You’ve no idea how much it costs . . .”

“You can expect quite a large donation from the Palace.”

“Good because this is going to cost plenty and all these alchemicals will need to be replaced.”

“When can you get the brothers here?”

“Half a dozen are already with me. The rest are down in the city making sure the locals don’t steal everything that isn’t nailed down.”

“Get everybody you can up here. Leave the minimum you need to keep the chapter house safe.”

“The servants and the lay brothers can do that if I shout at them enough. Anything else?”

“Tell your boys they’ll need to be careful. They’ll not have seen anything like this thing before.”

“You’re not reassuring me, Kormak.”

“Good. Scared men pay attention.”

“Scared men make mistakes too. We both know that.” The words hung in the air after he left.

***

Outside it was noon. The Holy Sun beamed down on his people, his light keeping them safe from monsters. Inside the cool of the palace, a small army was on the move.

Warriors in the uniforms of the Household Guard watched all the entrances to the catacombs.

Hard looking men in white surcoats bearing the red dragon of the Order of the Dawn waited among them. They wore belts containing flasks of strange alchemicals. Elder signs warded their helmets. Most of them wore other runes on armlets, necklaces or rings. All of them had burning torches at hand.

Groups of household servants gawked. Nobles in full court dress displayed just as much curiosity.

Kormak felt the unfamiliar armour of truesilver on his shoulders and chest. He had forgotten how light it seemed when worn. He ran his hands over the contents of the pouches and rings in the belt the abbot had given him, making sure everything was there.

He touched the stoppers of tubes containing truesilver essence. He ran his fingers over the rune-lines inscribed on the otherwise smooth surfaces of sunflares. He studied one. The faint glow showed it was ready to discharge a burst of the stored light of the Holy Sun.

He felt the flask containing Valen’s Elixir. Why had he asked Gerd for it? His own strength would be enough. It always had been in the past. He should return the potion and tell the abbot he had made a mistake in a moment of doubt.

“So what’s the plan?” Gerd asked. The abbot carried a mace marked with dwarven runes. Near him stood a big man who held the leads of three huge black dogs. The dogs were the size of wolfhounds with jaws like bulldogs. They looked at Kormak as if considering him for their next meal.

“We’re going down to the vault to take a look.”

“By we, you mean . . .”

“You, me and the dogs.”

“We might want to take some more.”

Kormak shook his head. “They’re needed up here to make sure nothing gets out.”

“I’m rather hoping we do.”

“I meant other than us.”

Gerd made a face. His hands went to his belt. He too carried sunflares and alchemical fire. He licked his lips.

“You sure you want to come?” Kormak asked. Gerd shot him an odd look. Kormak felt that his friend did not so much want to go with him as
need
to do it. Perhaps he wanted to show that he had been a Guardian himself once and to prove he still had it in him. He had always been competitive even when they were boys. “It might be best if you stayed here. You are the abbot after all.”

Gerd smiled as if he saw through Kormak’s attempt to discourage him. “What could possibly harm me? I have a famous Guardian to protect me. And if this Old One gets too close I’ll threaten to make him pay for feeding the dogs. That should scare him off. It bloody well scares me.”

“I’m starting to worry about this obsession with accounting.”

“Just you wait until you’re in my position. You’ll be obsessed with it too.”

“You were right. You’re going to have to pry this sword from my cold dead hand.”

“Let’s pray to the Holy Sun that I don’t have to do it today then. It’s been a while since I held a dwarf-forged blade.” He brandished the mace with one stubby hand. “And this will not be nearly as effective.”

The dogs started to growl as Rhiana pushed her way through the crowd. Gerd eyed her with a mixture of appreciation and suspicion. “Who is this?”

“Captain Rhiana, late of Port Blood and parts beyond.”

“She coming with us?” Gerd looked dubious. The gills marked Rhiana as a child of Saa-Aquor, not a follower of the Holy Sun. He was wondering what her relationship with Kormak was.

“Yes, she is,” Rhiana said. “I didn’t pull you out of the belly of Leviathan just to watch you get yourself killed here.”

“The belly of Leviathan? I hope you are not speaking literally,” Gerd said.

“She is,” Kormak said.

“You’ll need to tell me about that.”

“You can write up the report for the Grand Master if you want.”

“Yes, I’ll do that. You know how much I love paperwork.” Gerd’s sarcastic tone was not lost on Rhiana. She smiled.

“Rhiana, this is Abbot Gerd. He’s a master of the quill.”

Gerd gave a slight bow. “Mightier than the sword so they say. Though I can’t help but feel the man who first said that had not tried defending himself against a blood-mad orc with one.”

“Whatever you do, don’t ask him how much it costs to feed his dogs.”

“He’s right, captain. The cost would frighten you to death. Better let them get a sniff of you. They might be unfriendly otherwise.” He moved over to the dogs and said, “Balthus, Slasher, Fang. This pretty lady is a friend. Don’t bite!”

The dogs glared at Rhiana less fiercely.

She frowned. “You’ve shielded your dogs. The runes on the collars . . .”

“It’s not the only thing they protect them from,” said Gerd. “But perhaps we can discuss that on our way to view the Imperial Treasure Vaults.”

“You’d better take a lit torch and some spares,” Kormak said to Rhiana.

“You want me to be your linkboy? I have this!” She reached inside her pouch and produced a pearl that Kormak well-remembered. Even in daylight it gave out a faint green glow. In the darkness it would produce as much light as a torch.

“A torch will be a better weapon against an Old One than your spear. Fire burns the Eldrim.”

“You can bet your life I’m carrying a torch,” said Gerd. “Rodric too. Only this lazy Aquilean bastard won’t. He claims it takes all his strength to lift that dwarf-forged blade.”

Rhiana laughed and took a torch.

“Let’s get hunting,” said Kormak.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THEY MADE THEIR way down the stairwell into the catacombs. The green glow of Rhiana’s pearl gave as much light as the smoke-spluttering torches. The smell of oil and burning rag drifted through the close air. Shadows danced away from them. Moss clung to the walls and emerged from gaps between the paving stones.

The dogs snarled. The biggest, Balthus and Slasher, eyed the small one, Fang, as if considering him for a meal. Fang growled back at them, undaunted by their size.

“You sure you remember the way,” Gerd asked.

“Yes,” Kormak said.

“I recall how you got us lost in the night marches round Aethelas.”

“You were the one leading.”

“Still trying to shift the blame I see. You’d think that after all these years you would just admit it.”

“I take it you two have known each other for some time,” Rhiana said.

“Since he was dragged to Mount Aethelas as a snot-nosed pup by Master Malan. Although, come to think of it, that was before Malan became a Master,” said Gerd. “He was a troublemaker even then I can tell you. Started a fight the day he arrived. Would have got handed his sorry ass as well, if I had not pulled him out of it.”

Rhiana looked at Kormak. He shook his head.

“He can shake his head all he likes but he knows it’s true.”

“Gerd always talks when he’s nervous,” Kormak said.

“I am not nervous. I am scared shitless. I saw what that thing did to you and I am not carrying a dwarf-forged blade.”

The dog-handler looked at the abbot, appalled. Kormak wondered if he had ever heard Gerd express himself in quite this way before. Or perhaps it was just the confession of fear that had him worried.

The steps ended and they were on the level of the vaults now.

“I am surprised the King-Emperor trusts you to come down here,” Gerd said. “Aquileans are famous for their looting.”

“The King of Siderea obviously does not share your Taurean prejudices.”

“He has his own. He does not need any of mine.”

“I always heard that Aemon was a saint.”

“Cast your mind back to your scripture lessons and you will recall that not a few of the saints were vicious bastards.
His hands were stained crimson and he bathed in the blood of heretics
. That was written about Saint Aloysius, not coincidentally known as the Bloody-Handed.”

“The stories I have heard all say Aemon is a humble man and a great temple builder. He gives alms to the poor and he heals the sick. I’ve not seen anything yet that makes me disbelieve that.”

Gerd looked over his shoulder then at the dog-handler then at Rhiana. “You are just trying to get me into trouble, aren’t you, Kormak? Always the bloody same with you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“It would not surprise me if, even down here, Aemon’s bloody brother had eavesdroppers.”

“So?”

“What do you want me to say? That the King builds temples and gives alms to the poor to ingratiate himself with the people? He does it because the nobles hate him for limiting their privileges and building a professional army. The preachers’ sermons praise the King’s virtues because he pays for their stipends as well as their temples.”

“I have met Aemon. He does not seem so cynical.”

“You have met Aemon so you think the same as me. King Aemon believes in the Light of the Holy Sun and in the Angel Zhamriel’s blessing. But most of all he believes in the righteousness of King Aemon. Not least of the believers in the sainthood of King Aemon is King Aemon.”

It surprised Kormak to hear his old friend speak so strongly on the subject. “I just hope that your lady friend here is not a spy in the pay of our saintly king,” said Gerd. “I know I can trust Rodric here. I owe him too much in gambling debts for him to want me dead.”

Rodric looked scandalised. Rhiana said, “Your secrets are safe with me.”

Kormak felt tempted to tell Gerd that she had been an agent of the King-Emperor back in Port Blood. Just for a moment, he wondered if she still considered herself such. Perhaps that was why she was here now.

As they approached the vault, the dogs began to whine. It was alarming hearing beaten-puppy noises coming from the throats of those fierce beasts. Shadowhounds had been bred for generations to hunt monsters through the stink of blights. Nothing was supposed to frighten them. Both the bigger dogs were reluctant to proceed. Fang bared his teeth and growled as he crept forward.

Rodric said, “Never seen them behave like this before, abbot. Not even when we were hunting those spider-demons in Bogwood.”

Gerd nodded. “Maybe they’ve been listening to me too much. Now, boys you know I was only joking. There’s nothing that bad down here. Ask Sir Kormak, he’ll tell you.”

“They’re dogs, Gerd. They can’t understand what I am saying.”

“With that Aquilean accent of yours, you’re probably right. I struggle with it myself.”

The smallest of the dogs continued to move forward. It crept along on its belly, as if it was stalking something. Kormak looked at Rhiana.

“I don’t sense anything in there. Doesn’t mean there is nothing there,” she said. “It could be masking itself. “

“If anything can do it, a bloody Old One can,” said Gerd. “They are masters of magic. Live and breathe it. Comes as easy to them as eating expensive meat and farting does to my dogs.”

Kormak moved beside Fang. The dog looked up at him and did not growl. Kormak went up to the vault door. It swung open easily on its hinges. Fang whimpered but kept moving forward. The other Shadowhounds kept their distance.

Kormak entered the vault.

He moved to the spot where the chancellor had fallen. The dog scampered along with him, as if desperate for the company. It sniffed the area where the body had been, alternately whimpering and growling.

Kormak strode deeper into the room, heading towards the sarcophagus. The others followed. Rodric had to drag the other dogs. Rhiana looked gloomy. Gerd looked worried as he limped along.

Kormak saw nothing except the mounds of treasure chests. He paid particular attention to the area on top of them. The monster might still be lurking there.