Death's Angels

Chapter Thirty-One

The next morning when the Lady Asea strode through the gateway of her mansion to inspect the troops drawn up in the courtyard, Sardec was surprised. She did not look like a spoiled noblewoman any more. Flanked by two black robed servants, she looked like a Terrarch warlord from the Elder Times. In spite of himself, he was impressed. There was no doubt that here indeed was one of the First, and one accoutred for battle.

On her face Asea wore a mask of liquid metal. It covered everything save her eyes and her teeth. There were two holes for her nostrils. It was moulded to her features and moved with them, smiling when she smiled, frowning when she frowned. In the middle of the mask’s forehead rested a black jewel, miniature elder signs inscribed on every facet.

Her body was wrapped in strips of what looked like studded leather, like the cerements of a mummy. Like the mask, they clung to her flesh sorcerously and followed her every movement. There was no doubt she was armoured, but it was armour that allowed her as much flexibility as if she were clad in silk.

On her right wrist were three golden bands, each marked by runes, and each bearing a glowing gem: one red, one purple, one green. Sardec thought he recognised two of them. The green was the master control ring for a Leash, used to bind wyrms and other creatures to the wearer’s will. The red bore a strong resemblance to something his father had shown him as a boy. It was a control torque for one of the ancient weapons. A rune of Warding pulsed on it. He could not begin to guess what the third armlet was for. On her belt hung the holster of a Lash and the scabbard of a blade. A host of Elder signs dangled from a truesilver chain around her neck.

She might have stepped out of one of the sagas of Elder Days. All her equipment had the smooth, potent look of the Old Magic. Behind the two black clad servants came a house servant bearing a large rune-covered flask.

“At least you are punctual,” she said. “So few youths are these days. Come! I would have some words with your troops.”

“As you wish,” said Sardec. Unconsciously he fell into step behind her. He lengthened his stride so that they walked together like equals. The two servants, their faces masked and veiled so that only a thin strip of dark skin was visible around the eyes, fell in behind them. The Foragers were drawn up in ranks a short distance from the great wyrms that would carry them. They stood smartly to attention as Asea appeared, much more smartly than they normally would have for him, he thought sourly. It seemed that they too were impressed.

Asea passed along the line pausing to look into the faces of men here and there, searching their faces as if looking for something. Most men paled under that cold scrutiny, but a few met her eye, and he sensed that in some indefinable way she was pleased. When she had passed along the entire line, she turned and took up a position a few strides in front of the troops.

“We are going into the mountains,” she said. Her voice carried well, although by some sorcerer’s trick she did not seem to have raised it above the conversational level. “We are going back to a place you have visited previously. You are to be my bodyguards. I can see that I will be in safe hands!

“When I return to my home unharmed you will be well rewarded. There will be gold crown for each of you…perhaps more if things should prove a little dangerous.”

There was cheering at this. She turned away and spoke soft urgent words to the servants carrying the flask.

“Be very careful with that,” she said. “Should the seal break we face death. Aye, and worse than death.”

What was going on here? Sardec wondered, as he gave the orders to mount.

“Here we go again,” said the Barbarian, as they scrambled over the side of the howdah. Rik wondered if it was the same wyrm as they had ridden on previously. There was something about the blotched pattern of its neck scales that seemed familiar.

The wyrm lurched upright and let out a bellow of suppressed fear and rage. From the gate of Asea’s tower came the sound of hissing and a peculiar reptilian squealing. “What now?” the Barbarian muttered as they all stood up to look over the howdah’s side.

Through the gate emerged a pack of about a dozen huge ripjacks. They raced forward swirling around Sardec, lean bi-pedal wyrms with long snake-like necks and lashing tails. From tip of nose, to end of tail they were probably nine feet long, and stood four foot high. Massive slashing claws emerged from their toes. Their teeth were razor sharp and wicked intelligence shone in their eyes.

It was the sight and most likely the smell of these predators that had upset the great bridgebacks. They swivelled to keep them in view despite the best efforts of their mahouts. Rik felt something almost like admiration for Sardec. He knew that it would have been impossible for him to stand there as calm as the Lieutenant did with those killers milling around him. At the same time, it would have given him the greatest satisfaction to see them tear Sardec limb from limb and feast on his remains.

Looking closer, Rik could see that each had a small collar with a gleaming stone upon its neck. Sorcery controlled the ripjacks. Noticing the massive jet black wyrm emerging through an inner gate of the Palace, Rik knew who was doing the controlling. It looked like Lady Asea was serious about her hunting.

He took a long breath and settled down, clutching his weapons for reassurance. He had not liked the way the Lady Asea had looked at him at all. It had made him feel as if she was looking right down into the blackest depths of his soul and seeing things there that amused her. He hoped it was not the case, for if she could, she would have found out all about his dealings with Bertragh.

Briefly Rik wondered if he should go to her and tell her what he knew, in return for a pardon for his acts. Surely one of the First, a Terrarch sorceress would know what to do about the Ultari. As quickly as the thought entered his mind, he suppressed it. There would be no pardon for him and the others. The best he could hope for was a quick death if his role in all of this was found out.

The bridgeback lurched out of the courtyard and into the square. Ahead of them a crowd of people were gathered to enter the main temple. A few of them turned to stare curiously at the passing soldiers.

Another thought stole into his mind. The factor and Zarahel would have to die. They knew too much and they must not be allowed to spill that knowledge to the authorities. That would mean the pyre for Rik and his friends as surely as if he had confessed. As soon as he got the chance, he would talk with Weasel and the Barbarian. They would find a way to kill the Prophet and his companion.

“I tell you I’d shag her,” said the Barbarian, looking meaningfully in the direction of Lady Asea’s wyrm. It was well out in front, following the trail of the ripjacks as they loped towards the mountains.

“You’re mad,” said Toadface. “One of the First? I would be so scared I could not get it up.”

“She could make my soldier stand at attention any time,” said the Barbarian and guffawed. He elbowed Rik. “I said, she could make my soldier stand at attention any time.”

“I heard you the first time,” said Rik. “Better make sure she doesn’t.”

“Why? From what I heard I would not be the first man she’s ridden.”

“Bellow it a bit louder, why don’t you?” Rik said. “There’s the slim possibility she might not have heard you that time.”

“There’s no need to be touchy just because your girl went off with the Lieutenant…”

“What?” Sergeant Hef asked, turning to look back at them all with his wise monkey eyes.

“The Lieutenant and some of his brother officers were in Mama Horne’s on Solace night,” said Weasel, sucking his teeth with a certain grim satisfaction. His eyes never left Gunther’s face.

“The Light will forgive your lies,” said the fanatic. He was obviously still in a charitable mood after his experience in the mines. Rik almost missed the old Gunther who would have been raving and threatening Weasel by now. His forbearance was starting to be more annoying than his former ranting.

“If that’s true I would keep quiet about it,” said Hef, and the utter seriousness of his tone quietened them all down. “The Exalted have a way of getting even with men who do them down.”

“Can’t say as I blame him,” said the Barbarian. “Rik’s girl is very pretty.”

“She’s not my girl,” said Rik.

“Then why are you moping like dog whose bone’s been took away.”

“I am not moping.”

“Whatever you say,” said the Barbarian. He looked back at Lady Asea’s wyrm. “I tell you, I would definitely shag her.”

Sardec watched the mountains come closer. He was alone on his wyrm and he had plenty of time to think. It was the second time in as many weeks he had been ordered up here among the hill-tribes.

He looked at Asea’s great black mount. Of all the wyrms, it was the only one that did not show any unease in the presence of the ripjack pack. He guessed it was used to them. Certainly the black-clad servant guiding it showed not the slightest difficulty in keeping the bridgeback under control. The other one stood behind the lady surveying the terrain with a bow in his hand.

A bow, Sardec thought. Why a bow? Perhaps Asea had some ancient enchanted arrowheads among her gear, he thought sourly. She seemed to have just about everything else. It was amazing that she had on her person so many relics of Al’Terra. Well, she was one of the First.

He put his spyglass to his eye and studied the pack. He was still annoyed about the way she had unleashed it while he was still in the courtyard. He was sure that had been deliberate, an effort to humiliate him in front of the men that had almost succeeded. It had taken every ounce of self-control he had not to draw Moonshade when those killers surrounded him. He could still remember their acrid reptilian stench, and the smell of rotten meat coming from their mouths. If her control had been less than perfect, or just one of the ripjacks had gone into killing rage, the whole pack would have fallen on him. He had seen such things happen.

The leading ripjack had its head bowed over the trail, sniffing. It was the dominant female, the one which the Leash would be attuned to most strongly. The rest of the pack would follow its lead. Even as he watched, they did, spreading out in wide hunting arc, searching for the prey they had been promised.

After a few moments he found his thoughts going back to the human girl. It embarrassed him but the encounter still carried a huge erotic charge for him. Perhaps when he got back from this mission, he would seek her out again. Or perhaps he would seek out another human wench, maybe two.

If he got back, whispered a small scared part of his mind.

They made camp close to their previous site. Rik joined the group of soldiers who watched, amazed, as Lady Asea set up camp. From the luggage on the side of her wyrm, the two servants produced what looked like a short metal pole.

A word from the sorceress and the pole telescoped upward to half again the height of a man. Moments later filaments shot out from the top and buried themselves in the ground. There was a blur of motion too fast for the eye to follow and a tent stood there. Its fabric shimmered oddly, seeming to blend in with the mountainous background, and Rik knew that from a distance it would be very difficult to see.

As if she has not just performed a wonder, Lady Asea strode off to set the wards around the camp, leaving her strangely robed servants to tranship her gear from the wyrm to the inside of the tent.

After a discreet nod to Weasel, Rik headed off among the trees like a man looking to have a piss. The former poacher joined him a few minutes later, and they stood watching the stars emerge above the mountains.

“I know what you are going to say,” said Weasel in a low voice.

“You do?” Both of them looked around to make sure no one was near.

“About Bertragh — it would be better for all of us if he was not taken alive. No knowing what he might tell Lady Asea or the Inquisition if he is given a chance.”

Rik looked at him for a moment, his natural reticence warring with the emotions that threatened to tear him apart.

“What else is on your mind? You’ve been sulky as a kid all day. It’s not the girl, is it?”

Rik thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. It’s part of it at least.”

“Then don’t be so bloody childish. If she likes you, she likes you. If you like her, you like her. The business with the Lieutenant was just that: business.”

“You think?”

“She certainly talked enough about you when you were away on your little mission. Maybe if you had stayed, the rest of it would never have happened.”

“You think?”

“Practising to be a parrot, are we? There’s only one way to find out what any woman is thinking and it does not involve magic.”

“What’s that?”

“Ask her.”

“I’ll think about it but it’s not just that…” Now that they had come to the crunch, Rik felt his reluctance to talk about it return. He saw Weasel was waiting.

“What else?”

“It’s the other thing. You think we did wrong with those books, that maybe you could go mad or be swallowed by the shadow just by reading them? Do you think our souls are in peril for what we did?”

“What am I, Halfbreed, a bloody priest? How should I know?” He tried to make a joke of it, but there was an underlying seriousness to his tone. “Maybe you should have listened to the Barbarian — he told you no good ever came of reading books.”

“I am starting to think he might be right. Make sure you mention Bertragh to him.”

“Oh I think that thought may have worked its way even through the armour plate he calls a skull.”

“He should give it a warm welcome. It’s in a strange place.”

“Ha-bloody-ha. Come on we’d best get back and grab some grub. At least the weather has improved since our last little jaunt up here.”

If it had, Rik could not tell. It was just as cold and just as windy. The only improvement he could spot was the lack of intermittent snow. Maybe that was what Weasel meant.

On his way back Rik was surprised to find Lady Asea looking at him. He shivered and it was not with the cold. What did she want, he wondered? She beckoned to him. He swallowed, tried to keep his guilt off his face, and strode as confidently as he could over to her.

“Can I help you, Lady?” he asked. She studied him for a while, head tilted to one side. She walked around him. He stood stock still wondering at this sinister inspection. She moved with the gait of a hunting cat. The ripjacks followed at her heel. Suddenly he was sweating. He felt the tension build within him. What did she know? What did she suspect?

“Who was your father?” she asked.

“I do not know, Lady.”

“Your mother?”

“She died when I was still a baby. I never knew her.”

She came to a halt just in front of him. He found he had to look up at her face. He saw his own features distorted in the mirror of her liquid metal mask. “You have Terrarch blood.”

“Many people have told me that, Lady, but I do not know.”

“I am telling you, boy, and I do know.”

Rik did not know what to say. He was more shocked than he would have expected. All his life he had wondered about this, but to have it confirmed by one of the First was more than he could have expected. She spoke a word and reached out and touched his brow. He felt the shocking spark of power pass between them. What had she done, he wondered?

“You have Exalted blood and something more, and yet you are a common soldier. That is a shame.”

“There is nothing I can do about it, Lady.”

“One more thing,” she said. “My agents in Redtower have reported certain rumours to me.”

“Milady?”

“They concern certain mystical books.”

It took every ounce of his self-control to keep from flinching. He had been a fool to imagine that they could get away with selling the books without it being noticed. Of course, the Terrarchs had informers everywhere. Of course, word had got out. He steeled himself for the accusation to come.

“Books, milady?”

“It seems they were being sold by a group of soldiers. Three soldiers. Would you know anything about that?” What does she know, Rik wondered?

“Why would I know about such things, milady?” She looked at him and gave a dazzling smile. Rik knew how a bird felt when confronted with a serpent.

“If you should hear anything about such a thing, please let me know.”

“Of course, milady.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away, the ripjack pack following at her heel. Rik stood absolutely still. He felt weak. It was a long time before he could return to his duties.