The Boy Who Wept Blood (31 page)

Darkness swallowed the Domo as he withdrew, staff beating out the tempo of his stride like the seconds of an ancient clock. Dino listened to the sound recede. Only when it was beyond the limit of his hearing did he let himself breathe.

56

Bloodline
–
30 Agosto
325

‘Dino, please, get me away from here.’ Stephania’s hand clutched at his with painful intensity. ‘It can’t be him. It can’t be,’ she repeated. Achilles hissed.

Bodies from the grey wall of limbs began to peel off, becoming distinct, separate creatures. They ran the gamut of deformity: atrophied limbs, empty eye sockets, mouth parts no more than withered mandibles; swollen and corpulent, emaciated and sinewy. These were the unwanted children of the king’s designs, the failures of experiments that had brought blight not fruition. Dino wondered how many were down here. He couldn’t possibly fight them all, broken as they were.

‘Lucien was supposed to rule.’ Erebus’ voice was deep and penetrating, resonating around the chamber. ‘Golia was a monster we used to frighten the people into obedience, a blunt instrument; Lucien was the intelligent one, but Anea put her filthy ideas of a republic into him. Anea and that whore chambermaid.’

More bodies were shed from the wall of undulating flesh. Wretches in various stages of pregnancy were disgorged, waddling forward, ripe to deliver yet more twisted progeny into the world. Stephania stared at them appalled.

‘None of us wanted to serve the king,’ moaned Erebus, his voice a maudlin dirge. ‘How we hated him, how we feared him, how we longed for a new way of life.’

Dino turned. The lanterns behind them were being extinguished one by one; soon the only source of light would be the lantern Stephania clutched. Her breathing was ragged and quick by his ear.

‘Your father’s sword,’ said Dino, ‘I think you’re going to need it.’

Stephania switched the lantern to her left hand and drew, the tip of her blade hovering above the surface of the rank water.

‘How sharp is that thing?’ grunted Dino.

‘More than your wits, less than my sarcasm.’

‘Good to know,’ replied the Orfano.

‘Hundreds of years he reigned,’ complained Erebus; ‘decades I served, catering to his insane schemes, providing for his obsessions.’

Stephania pressed herself back to back with Dino, prompting another hiss from Achilles. She turned her head as the reptile abandoned Dino’s shoulder for her own.

‘What’s he doing?’ she whispered.

‘Seems like he’s laying odds on which one of us will get out of here alive,’ replied Dino.

‘How
do
we get out of here?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe we can persuade him to tell us?’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘I can’t fight all of them.’

Stephania stiffened, the lantern she held remaining steady, a reprieve from the darkness of the oubliette. ‘We are
not
going to die down here, Dino.’

He wished he could murmur an assurance, but the chances of escape had dwindled with the light. Bodies loomed at the edge of the lantern’s nimbus, daring themselves to press in further. Blind eyes and twisted limbs sought them out but remained unwilling to risk injury. Dino and Stephania held out their swords, promising death to any venturing too close.

‘Let us go. There’s nothing to be gained by keeping us here. You’ve taken Demesne.’ Dino hated every word as he said it, hated having to bargain, to beg.

‘Let you go?’ Erebus wheezed and rattled, clearly amused. ‘But you’re so valuable, Dino. Your bloodline could provide the most interesting results. Come, my boy. Join me.’

‘I’m not your boy, and I’m not your fucking experiment. There’ll be no bloodline.’

‘Pity. You and your Prospero bitch could sit on the throne and manage the people – with my guidance, of course.’

‘Call her that again and I’ll cut your throat.’ Dino meant it, anger hot in his veins. The grotesques had become still. Silence descended about them. Dino peered into the darkness for some way that might lead them out of this Stygian place. There was none.

‘Golia failed me, unable to play his part.’

‘Do you ever stop whining?’ shouted Stephania.

Erebus ignored her. ‘Lucien failed me, unwilling to rule.’

‘Lucien never failed.’ Dino surprised himself with the passion of his rebuttal. ‘He’s the best of us.’

‘And where is your brightest and best now?’ Erebus stretched the words, twisting them with his scorn. ‘Not here beside you. He fails you with his cowardice.’

Dino regarded Erebus, his grey eyes glittering with hate. Here was the architect of so much suffering, just an arm’s reach away. All the deaths of the last few months could be traced to his design, including Massimo’s.

‘And now you have failed me, Dino. Failure and disappointment, is this all you bring to my court?’

The Orfano pulled Duke Fontein’s stiletto from Stephania’s belt. ‘I’m sure I’ve got something you can have,’ he said, dropping to a squat then launching himself up.

Dino angled his sword around behind Erebus’ helm, anchoring him in place; his legs scissored around the monster’s torso, clinging on fiercely. His left hand jabbed at the join between armoured chest and human head. A sick tremor passed through Erebus as the stiletto sank into his neck. Insect legs trembled, and Orfano and aberration collapsed into the fetid water. Stephania leaped clear of the tangle, barely keeping the lantern above the surface of the water. A lone creature staggered toward her, only to collapse as she ran it through the chest.

‘Get away from me,’ she gasped.

The grotesques shambled back, confused and awed by the fall of Erebus. Dino struggled to escape from beneath the writhing mass as Erebus’ legs thrashed in the muck, throwing up water and the sediment of centuries of misery. The water was up around Dino’s neck, one of his legs remaining trapped beneath the bulk of the unholy creation. Erebus dipped his head forward, the blades of the helmet descending. Dino jerked back and to one side to avoid a slashed throat, the water up to the corners of his eyes, lapping over his mouth. The Orfano turned, looking in vain for Stephania, trying to find the source of the light, desperate to see she was not being consumed by the horde, swallowed alive as Duchess Fontein had been.

Erebus coughed and flailed, lurching up. The light swung around the chamber at lunatic angles as Dino pushed himself to his feet. It was then he realised why Erebus had risen so quickly, abandoning his chance to drown the Orfano.

Stephania had mounted the back of the monstrosity; riding it like a wild horse. With no reins, she grasped the stiletto embedded in the aberration’s neck. She pressed it deeper, thrust harder, the wound weeping pale fluid turning blue. She clung on, her other hand still fastened to the lantern. Achilles remained clamped to her shoulder, onyx eyes squinting in the melee, tail wrapped about Stephania. It was then Dino saw it. Erebus had positioned himself under a hole in the ceiling, making himself a living door to the underworld of the oubliette.

‘Stephania! Above you! Jump.’

She looked up, nearly losing her precarious position on the lurching six-legged horror. Grotesques closed in on every side. Dino lashed out in a wide sweep that split the face of two attackers and buried the blade in the chest of another. There were hisses and wails, the stink of excrement as a shock wave of pain rippled through the disfigured. Another lurched forward, only to be greeted by the sharp tines of Dino’s forearm sinking into the pallid muscles of its chest. It fell back, clutching half a dozen poisoned wounds.

‘Stephania. Jump!’

She stared back stricken with indecision.

Dino took his blade in both hands and removed the head from an attacker bearing a rusted blade. Its skull splashed into the water and bobbed, looking back with a single baleful eye. Others squabbled in the muck for the blade.

‘Go. Now!’

She jumped, throwing the lantern through the hole before her, abandoning her perch on the back of the monster. She caught the lip of the hole, long seconds slipping away as she hauled herself higher. Achilles leaped from his perch and scurried away. Her shoulders pushed through, then her hips. The riding boots scrabbled for purchase and then she was gone. Dino checked himself, staring down those who looked ready to attack. Erebus was spent and wheezing, the hilt of the stiletto protruding from his neck.

‘Not good enough,’ grated Dino, wishing the thrust had found the jugular. Erebus lurched to his insect feet and lumbered away into the darkness, the grotesques closing up behind him. Dino lunged forward in pursuit but was shoved back by a wall of limbs. A tawny crescent of light flickered from the hole above, but of Stephania there was no sign. Dino roared in fury, resigned to death, frustrated he wouldn’t destroy the source of Demesne’s corruption.

The grotesques withdrew, dragging the whimpering wounded in their wake. Dino stood with an eye on the pale yellow light above, waiting for salvation from above, knowing they’d be hunted down by the Myrmidons on the surface. He clutched his sword, arm aching, waiting for more danger to emerge from the twilight. His breathing became calm, the waters stilled and silence crept closer. Dino called out to Stephania, eyes fixed on the hole in the ceiling and the faint smudge of light that lingered there. No reply, no response. Perhaps she had fallen and knocked herself unconscious? Were there Myrmidons up there?

How long he waited he couldn’t say, time meaningless in the oubliette. Relief infused him like sunshine when the light finally came. Somehow she’d circled around and was approaching from the direction of the well chamber. The lantern light bobbed closer, bringing with it a glint of steel.

‘Stephania? I hope you’ve looked after Achilles.’

The bearer of the lantern remained silent.

57

In Chains
–
30 Agosto
325

Stephania!’ He smiled. ‘Seems like you’re quite a bodyguard. That’s twice in one day you’ve saved me.’

Still no reply.

‘Stephania, can you remember the way back?’

The first glimmer of doubt, of curiosity, of anxiety.

‘Are you hurt?’

The lantern came closer, shedding light over the figure who carried it. Dino felt a twinge from the dagger cut in his side. It was not Stephania but Marchetti who approached, stripped to the waist, face concealed behind his veil. Dino suspected he knew why, and why the assassin never spoke. One hand brought light, the other death; Marchetti had clung to his sword as keenly as Dino had to his. In this at least they were alike. Dino suspected the Myrmidon had followed the sounds of violence.

At least Stephania had escaped. He hoped.

The Domina’s assassin hung the lantern from a rusted bracket by the archway, drew in a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. Dino pushed aside the pain of his wound, trying to draw on the anger he felt for Anea, finding only the enervation of betrayal.

Marchetti approached, circling, assessing, blade held out low, eyes keen. Dino shrugged off caution and opened with a flurry of thrusts and slashes, hampered only by the water, which dragged at his feet and legs. Marchetti turned the strikes aside, ducking beneath the last of them, turning the motion into a deadly riposte. Dino threw himself beyond the range of the blade lest his throat be opened and fell back beneath the water, struggling to regain his feet. Marchetti waited. Clearly he possessed some modicum of honour.

‘Pity you didn’t extend Fiorenza the same courtesy.’

Thoughts of the slain maid quickened Dino’s blood. He unleashed another series of attacks, feinted and mashed a fist into the veil, eliciting a grunt of pain. The Myrmidon responded by driving the pommel of his sword into Dino’s wound. The Orfano staggered, sickened by the pain. Now it fell to him to parry, Marchetti like a autumn gale, his advance irresistible. The Myrmidon’s sword whipped about like silver leaves, every motion a blur that promised oblivion. Swords tolled like bells, rang like anvils. Dino imagined he could hear the rattling of chains, as if the damned themselves were close at hand, desperate to be free.

Something under the surface of the water troubled Dino’s foot, causing him to pause and shift his weight. The distraction was enough for Marchetti. The Myrmidon’s blade swung upright, clutched in both hands. Dino stared, waiting for the strike that would cleave him to his breastbone. He raised his sword arm, knowing it was too late.

Achilles slammed into Marchetti’s veiled face, the drake’s claws clamping each side of his head, tail constricting the neck of the Myrmidon. Marchetti stumbled back, off balance, dropping his sword, which sank beneath the rank tide.

‘Dino, quickly!’ Stephania’s face looked down from the hole above. A length of heavy chain fell from the gap in the ceiling. The metal links, each as thick as his wrist, splashed into the water.

Marchetti gave a stifled grunt and clawed the reptile from his face, opening bloody gouges at the corners of his eyes. Dino stooped to rescue his pet, then landed a kick on the Myrmidon’s hip, sending him sprawling back into the water.

‘Dino, quickly. I think Myrmidons are coming.’

The Orfano sheathed his sword and started climbing the the heavy chain – not easy with boots full of water, even more difficult with a bedraggled cataphract drake clinging to one shoulder. His wound slowed him, the pain in his side agonising. Marchetti bobbed to the surface and lurched upright, coughing and racking. He was unarmed. Dino knew he could finish him.

‘Dino!’ Stephania reached down with a hand. She was smiling with tears in her eyes, desperation and hope competing on her face.

He could finish Marchetti, avenge Fiorenza and Emilio and Massimo.

‘Dino! Please, come on! I need you.’

He climbed. He slipped. He tightened his grip. He climbed again, the rust on the chain helping him to gain purchase on the links. He was close. A glance confirmed Marchetti had recovered his blade. The chain rattled and swayed below him as the Myrmidon pursued. Dino took Stephania’s hand and pulled himself through the hole, staggering to his feet though it cost him dearly in pain.

‘I thought I’d lost you,’ she breathed with relief.

Dino stood on trembling legs, the pain in his side an insistent throb. And in the corner of his eye, rising through the floor like the abdead, was Marchetti. Dino spun and wrenched his sword from the scabbard. The sword came free with an upward slash that caught Marchetti in the face, ripping the veil and whatever lay beneath. The Myrmidon fell back, hands and feet slipping, through the breach in the floor. His head hit the side of the hole as he fell, the sound terrible and final in the silence of the oubliette. The assassin splashed into the water, which subsided over his body and was still.

Stephania hugged Dino fiercely.

‘Mind my tines! I don’t want to poison you.’

She hugged him anyway, eliciting a gasp.

‘What is it?’

‘My side, you’re squeezing the wound.’

‘
Porca miseria.
I’m sorry. Sorry.’ She tore lengths of material from her tabard and made a crude bandage. The sound of ripping fabric made Dino uneasy. Once she’d treated his wound she turned her attention to his forearms, binding them tight.

‘Just in case,’ she explained.

Dino nodded, regaining his breath. ‘Did you just throw my pet drake into a sword fight.’

‘Of course not!’ Stephania frowned. ‘He jumped off my shoulder as I leaned over.’

‘Is there anyone in Demesne who isn’t rescuing me today?’

‘Anyone else would be grateful.’

‘I’ll be grateful once I’m sure I’m not bleeding to death.’ Dino blinked a few times and looked around. ‘Where are we? How do we get out of Demesne from here?’

‘I’ll show you.’ Stephania looked around uncertainly. ‘I think I found a way out.’

‘Just pull that chain up from the hole.’ He gestured weakly to the floor. ‘We don’t need anything else coming up from down there.’

They set off, Dino with one hand pressed to the cut in his side, the other draped around the shoulders of Stephania, who struggled under his weight. His eyes were heavy, his feet unresponsive. There was no part of him that wasn’t bruised or cold or wet. Stephania had stashed Achilles beneath the ragged remains of her tabard in order to keep the drake warm.

‘Pay attention now. We have to go down.’

Dino opened his eyes wide. ‘Down?’ Stone steps lay before him, each further one less distinct in the gloom. ‘We need to go up, Stephania.’

‘Trust me. There’s a passage deep beneath Demesne. I just have to find it.’

‘We should go up—’

‘And be caught by Myrmidons the minute we’re seen?’

She started down the steps, dragging him with her. It was pointless to resist. Dino concentrated on walking, content just to remain conscious.

‘I thought
you
were supposed to be taking
me
out of Demesne.’

‘I am,’ he grunted. ‘I’m just feigning weakness to confuse our enemies.’

‘Interesting. You’re very good at it.’

‘I’ve had lots of practice.’

It was easy to smile but the wound bled a little more with every step. It wasn’t deep, nor fatal, but it was enough to set his head spinning with the loss of blood. He couldn’t resist the heaviness of his eyelids and was almost sleepwalking.

The jostling strain of walking stopped. Stephania said nothing, prompting Dino to open his eyes, fearing the worst. They were in a low-ceilinged chamber, floor deep with dust. A thrum vibrated through the soles of his boots, as if the room was singing a wordless lament. Black rectangles of glossy black stood before them in orderly rows, ten abreast, each around seven feet tall. Each featured a single amethyst light off centre at the top.

‘Looking glasses?’

‘More of the king’s machines,’ said Dino.

‘How can you tell?’

‘I’ve seen smaller ones and one like this in the
sanatorio
. That’s where Anea keeps them. They have the same purple light.’

‘They look so smooth.’ It was true. Each was three feet wide, smooth and flawless, elegantly curved, a perfect abstract sculpture. ‘Wait here,’ said Stephania. She set the wounded Orfano down on a step.

‘Like I have a choice.’

Stephania approached the nearest of the devices with the lantern held aloft. The glass reflected her face stretched across the convex surface, but she could also make out something inside. Something terrible.

‘Don’t touch it,’ urged Dino. ‘Come away before something happens.’

‘Like what?’

‘I accidentally opened one of these in the
sanatorio
.’

‘What was inside?’ She was breathless with curiosity.

‘Nothing. It was empty, and the light had faded from it.’

‘Do you know what these contain?’

‘No. Can you see what’s inside?’

Stephania looked through the glass and shuddered. ‘I can’t really tell, but there are legs, lots of legs.’ She took a step back. ‘Insect legs like Erebus had.’

‘Do you think they’re alive?’ he asked.

‘Difficult to know,’ she replied ‘There are so many. Do you think it’s an army?’

Dino didn’t answer.

Stephania returned to him and pulled the Orfano to his feet, eliciting another grunt of pain.

‘How many of the
cittadini
do you think have abandoned Santa Maria?’ she asked.

‘Not nearly enough,’ said Dino. ‘Everyone will die if he unleashes these …’

‘You can’t know for sure they’re the work of Erebus.’

‘Who else?’

‘You did say they were the king’s machines.’

He nodded. It was all too convenient to lay the blame for everything on Erebus. The strangeness infesting Landfall stretched back centuries.

She all but carried him through the sarcophagi chamber, lit only by the baleful eyes of the machines. The purple lights lent the scene a surreal cast, held back in part by the flickering light of Stephania’s lantern. Dino was glad of it, and for Stephania. He counted ten rows, with at least another ten to get past. They were over halfway across the room when the basso thrum changed in pitch.

‘Do you hear that?’

Dino nodded, dread chilling him more than blood loss.

‘Keep going.’ Even his words sounded dusty, as if Demesne had infected him. Stephania pressed on, damp boots kicking up drifts of dust and web. A doorway beckoned, an opening of deeper darkness in the purple twilight.

‘I told you there was a way out.’ She looked pleased.

‘You just didn’t mention we had to sneak through a mass grave to get there.’

‘I don’t think they’re buried,’ she said; ‘I think this is where they’re grown.’

‘At least if they were buried it would mean they’re dead,’ he muttered.

‘Well, let’s not wake them,’ she whispered. They hurried on.

‘Where are we?’

‘An old sewer tunnel.’ She was breathing hard, tiring under his weight. ‘Now forgotten.’

‘So how do you know about it?’

‘When you’re as rich as House Prospero you can afford anything. Even old maps that House Erudito find boring.’

Dino struggled to see beyond the nimbus of golden light Stephania bore. He was hoping the illumination might keep them safe even as he lost consciousness.