2 Defiler of Tombs (13 page)

“A betrayal?”

“The dwarves were our servants once, before they broke their oaths.”

“They claim no dwarf ever broke an oath.”

She laughed, the tinkling of tiny silver bells. “I am sure they have found some legalistic quibbling that justifies that claim. Dwarves are good at that.”

“They say the Children of the Moon oppressed them for millennia.”

“They are probably right about that. They were our bondsmen. They kept our written records, one of their clans. They worked such metals we could not. They mined for us. They made things. They were always good with their hands and their tools.”

She glanced at the blade again. “You know how good.”

“You were going to tell me about your visitor, Morghael.”

She smiled at him. “And you are as concerned about payment as a dwarf would be.”

“This was not a service rendered,” he said reaching out to touch her hair. “This was a pleasure, for me at least. But I have a duty to perform.”

“And with your sort, duty is always there.”

“Yes.”

She began to dress. “Very well then, let us discuss your necromancer.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THEY RE-ENTERED the dining hall. The table had been cleared. They sat on chairs on either side and looked at each other. Tarina sipped at wine. Kormak did not touch his. He had drank enough of this stuff for one night, perhaps for a lifetime.

“He is called Morghael, the man who visited my brother,” Tarina said at last. “Morghael is not his true name of course. He is one of those who thinks that his enemies cannot curse him if they do not know his true name.”

“He may be right,” Kormak said. “I have seen many strange things.”

“Yes,” she said. “So often in sorcery things depend on the beliefs of those who work it or those who it is worked upon.”

“You would know more about these things than I.” It was true too. Working magic came naturally to the Old Ones. It was in their blood.

“What does he want and where is he going?” Kormak asked.

“He wants to find the Palace of the Defiler and he seeks Torghul’s Mask.”

“He seeks the Defiler’s mask?”

“Torghul took a good deal of his strength from his mask. It was a mystical artefact of great power. It allowed him to raise the Black Sun. It gave him the strength to curse the land.”

“Morghael knows this, of course.”

“He believes it will make him first among the sorcerer lords of your people, that he will become a new Lord of Death, that he will be able to command the Black Sun to rise.”

“Is that why is he opening the barrows?”

She shook her head.

“He is collecting the torques that Torghul gave to his chief disciples. They too are artefacts of some mystical significance. More to the point they are the key to opening the Defiler’s tomb. Morghael knew the location of the disciples’ burial places. He has opened them and acquired what he wanted.”

“That is madness. To attempt to open Torghul’s tomb. To take control of the Black Sun. Why awake some ancient undead horror?”

“Morghael has a vision of building a new empire with legions of the dead.”

“What did he want with your brother?”

“He wanted to know the location of the Palace and how he might find the entrance to the crypt.”

“And he thought your brother would know.”

“My brother does know. I know too. I have dwelled in this land since before ever the necromancers of Kharon came. I witnessed their rise to power. I talked with the Defiler when he walked among men.”

That gave Kormak pause. He knew intellectually that it must be true but it was still hard to accept, that someone sitting in the same room as him had talked with a legendary ancient evil. “I saw his overthrow as well. I watched the Solari kill his disciples and overthrow his priesthood and eventually drive him back into his Palace Tomb, a massive black ziggurat in the heart of the city. I watched the Black Sun rise over Forghast.”

She noticed his expression. “If you live long enough you witness everything or almost everything. You learn to accept it as well.”

“Why would your brother help Morghael? He hates humans now.”

“That is exactly why he would do so. If a new Defiler were to arise, it would cause chaos and many deaths among your people. It might bring down your kingdoms and the old wild days might return, the days when men worshipped Old Ones like gods. He longs for those times, I think.” She sounded wistful as if she too longed for them but did not want to admit it even to herself.

She remained quiet for a very long time, as if considering something carefully then said, “It may even be he has given himself to the Shadow, as Morghael has.”

“And you don’t care?”

“Everything changes. Everything passes. Each must find their own path.” She moved her head to one side and suddenly he was reminded of the movements of a bird of prey, something fierce and wild and predatory, completely lacking in any connection with humanity. He knew then that she did not see anything wrong in what her brother had done. She was looking at it from a point of view completely alien to him, that of a bored immortal seeking amusement, one who could simply fly away from the consequences of her actions. She did not care whether the Defiler returned or her brother served the Shadow. It would not affect her one way or the other.

“You have not yet showed me where the Defiler’s Palace is,’ he said.

The servant entered unsummoned. He was carrying two rolled up scrolls that must have been maps.

“That is a matter easily rectified,” she said, untying the ribbons that bound one and rolling it flat on the table.

She stabbed at a point on the map with one fingernail. It seemed longer now than it had earlier and more like a talon. “This is Elderdale.” She indicated a point further north. “This is all that remains of the Defiler’s capital.”

She moved her finger to sketch a line to another place marked as a town on the map. “These are the ruins of Forghast City…to reach them you must pass into the Cursed Lands. That is not an easy journey if you cannot fly. The Shadow is strong there and its minions are many.”

She rose and yawned. It was a parody of a human gesture. “It has been a pleasure, mortal, but I have business to be about.”

He had been dismissed.

Kormak trudged back down from the Keep in the rain.

The lights of the Inn blazed below and he walked towards it, chilled and weary. As he approached he heard the sound of raucous laughter and singing. He stepped through the doorway and was surprised to see some of the Tinkers playing on the balaika and the flute while men and women danced and Shade and his one-eyed companion looked on.

Aisha and Sir Brandon sat by the common room fire. Brandon’s sword was propped up against the hearth. His size, his weapon and the wolf lounging on the rug was enough to make even the most boisterous of the revellers keep their distance. Shade strolled over to them.

“I am surprised to see you back so soon,” he said. “Most men who go up to the Keep stay the night at least. Some never come back at all.”

There was something insinuating about his manner. Kormak stared and the dark man was the first to look away. He glanced into the fire then at Aisha and said, “Give us another song! The lads will be glad to hear it and I would be grateful too.”

Aisha shook her head but looked pleased to be asked.

“The lady is a very fine singer and knows how to do the old ballads right,” said Shade by way of explanation. “You missed that earlier, but I suppose you found other ways to keep yourself entertained.”

Brandon took a swig from a tankard of ale and said, “What exactly does he mean by that?”

Kormak shrugged. “We are leaving in the morning. We have a trail to find.”

“You know where Morghael is going?” Aisha asked.

“The Old Ones told me,” Kormak said.

“Then they will help us,” Brandon said. He sounded suspicious. Help from the Old Ones always came with strings attached in the tales he listened to. Thinking about this evening Kormak supposed they were right.

“Apparently they will help both sides,” said Kormak. Aisha did not look surprised by this information.

“What do you mean by that?” Brandon asked.

“It amuses them to tell us both where to find what we want. If we kill each other it is of no account to them.”

“Are you sure you believe them?” Brandon asked.

“Oh yes,” Kormak said. “The Old Ones may be mad but they are, for the most part, honest. At least I think these ones are.”

“You look as if you have scratches on your neck,” said Aisha. “Were you fighting?”

Kormak shook his head. “Not much.”

“So what else did you learn?” Brandon asked.

“This is not the time or place to discuss that,” Kormak said.

“Let us adjourn to our room and talk then,” said Brandon. Aisha nodded.

“I fear your song will have to wait for another time,” she told Shade.

“I can barely contain my disappointment.”

The room seemed even smaller with four of them and the wolf packed into it.

“What are you going to do,” Brandon asked once Kormak had finished telling them what Morghael sought and where he was going. Caution kept him from telling everything though.

“I am going to follow him, of course. Morghael cannot be allowed to get the Mask of the Defiler. He can’t be allowed to raise the Black Sun.”

“I am going with you,” said Aisha. She looked at him challengingly, as if for some reason he might try and stop her. Kormak wondered why that was. Did she feel guilty about something, was there something she was trying to hide that she felt he had spotted. Did she want the mask for herself? There were too many questions unanswered here.

Brandon looked at her wonderingly. He chewed at the end of his moustache. Kormak could almost see the thoughts running through his head. If the girl was going to this evil place, could he do less and still think of himself as a man and a warrior.

“You should go back, Brandon, warn your people, tell them to get ready in case the worst happens.”

Brandon looked at him sidelong. “I could gather my men-at-arms and come back,” he said. “Some extra swords might be useful.”

He sounded like he was seriously considering it. There was silence for a moment and then he shook his head. “It would take too long. By the time we got there, things would be over one way or another. I am coming with you.”

“You have a family and other responsibilities,” said Kormak.

“Anyone would think you were trying to get rid of me.”

“Any extra blade would be useful, I won’t deny it,” said Kormak. “But if we fail, someone needs to tell your people to be ready.”

“Are you going to tell me the same thing?” Lucas tilted his head to one side. His gaze flickered from Kormak to Brandon and back.

“We could certainly use your bow,” Kormak said.

“You’re not trying to send me back to Hungerdale with a warning then? Good because I am not going. I want to be there when you chop those tomb-opening bastards down.”

“I could send a message back with the Tinkers,” said Brandon. He looked at Aisha to see if she agreed. The witch-woman nodded. “I could write it under my seal. Tell Gena what is happening, make a copy for the Duke at Norbury.”

“It wouldn’t be the same without you there to argue the case.”

“So you are trying to get rid of me,” said Brandon. “You don’t think I am up to this but you think the hill-man is.”

“Lucas does not have children and a wife,” Kormak said. “You do.”

“I am quite attached to some of the whores here, if that counts for anything,” said Lucas, raising an eyebrow. “And I value my life as much as the next man.”

“I am going,” said Brandon. “And that is final. I will write those letters and I will ride with you. I am going to see this thing through to the end.””

“No matter where the trail leads?” Kormak asked.

“No matter where it leads. I owe this much to little Olaf and his folks.”

“Then I am pleased to have you along.” Brandon reached out and clasped Kormak on the shoulder. He looked almost grateful.

“We’ll need some gear, before we go,” Kormak said. “And Morghael has the walking dead with him. We’ll need to stop them and if we’re going into the Tomb Palace we will need to be prepared.”

“What do you need?” Lucas asked. “There are stores here in Elderdale.”

“We’ll need lantern oil and torches. Salt too."

“Those will be expensive here,” said Lucas.

“We have some in the wagon,” said Aisha. She paused for a moment and spoke reluctantly, as if imparting a secret. She walked over to the door and then back as if to make sure no one as listening. “If needs be I have enough money too.”

Kormak understood her reluctance. It was the sort of admission that could get your throat slit in a place like this if anyone overheard.

“And we’ll need supplies for at least week. We’re not going to be able to forage for food on the road and I would not want to eat anything we found in the Cursed Lands anyway. Let’s get to it. We pack what we need and leave in the morning.”

Kormak was not surprised to find Shade still awake. The dark man stood behind his bar, holding a goblet of wine. He was watching a last few drunks slumped at their tables. Many slept in the common rooms.

“A word,” Kormak said after the discussions were finished and the others had retired to their chambers.

“As you wish, Guardian,” he said. “I don’t need much sleep and neither apparently do you. Something to drink?”

“I want to give you some advice,” Kormak said.

“By your tone, it’s not going to be something I am going to like.”

“That is true.”

Shade poured himself another drink. “What is it?”

“The sorcerer who passed through here, who visited the Twins…”

“Yes?” The tavern keeper was wary now. The mention of anything connected with the Old Ones in the Keep seemed to make him so.

“He is looking for the Tomb Palace of the Defiler.”

“He won’t be the first.”

“He may be the first to open it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“He is a necromancer. If he finds what he’s looking for, then the hills will soon be crawling with the walking dead.”