Ghoulslayer

Chapter Seven Harbingers

They rushed on, reaching the building together. It was a coiled teardrop of bone, edged with a silver tracery of symbols that Maleneth did not recognise. The bone looked ridged and grooved, as though made of irregular tiles. The silver glimmered in the starlight, but otherwise there was only darkness.

‘Anyone there?’ bellowed Gotrek, tapping the head of his axe against the walls.

There was an explosion of noise and movement.

Maleneth flipped gracefully back from the building, whipping her knives out of her leathers and landing in a crouch, only to find that Gotrek had disturbed nothing more dangerous than insects. What she had taken for tiles on the surface of the building were actually thousands of pale, diaphanous moths. They were now whirling around Gotrek and the others, fluttering against their faces and filling the air with a frenetic buzz.

Gotrek cursed and waved his axe around, nearly beheading Lhosia in the process. ‘Damn things,’ he grunted, trying to bat the insects away.

Maleneth laughed at the absurd sight of a Slayer doing battle with moths. ‘You don’t like them,’ she snorted.

Gotrek glowered back at her. ‘I like them a damn sight more than witch aelves.’ He waded off through the fluttering cloud, muttering as he batted them away.

Maleneth was still laughing as she struggled after him, amazed by the ridiculousness of the Slayer. She had seen him kill beasts that could best armies and trade insults with a sylvaneth goddess. And here he was, cursing because a few insects were trapped in his beard.

‘Stop!’ cried Lhosia, grabbing Gotrek’s axe and glaring at him in outrage. ‘The harbingers! You’ll offend them!’

Gotrek stared at her. ‘The what?’

‘She means the moths.’ Maleneth laughed even harder. ‘You’re scared of them, and she’s worried about offending them!’

‘Where’s the door?’ cried Gotrek, scowling at Maleneth and then rounding on Lhosia. ‘How do we get in?’

After a wary glance at Gotrek’s axe, the priestess nodded and hurried past him, pointing her scythe at a bone archway that looked like the rib of a long-dead leviathan. Her eyes were wide with fear.

They all rushed after her, entering a circular courtyard with a hole at its centre and metal steps spiralling down into the darkness.

Lhosia hesitated at the top step, looking around the courtyard and shaking her head. She peered down into the darkness. ‘Hello?’ she called, taking a few steps down into the gloom. ‘Mother? Father? It’s Lhosia.’

A clattering echoed up the steps, followed by what sounded like a door slamming shut.

Lhosia glanced back at the others. Her pale, hard features twisted into a scowl.

Gotrek took the scythe from his belt and handed it to her.

She looked at the blade for a moment, then turned and dashed down the steps, vanishing from view.

Maleneth laughed again. ‘By the Bloody-Handed, she’s as eager to die as you are, Gotrek.’

‘We need her alive if we’re going to find this wretched prince,’ he replied, and charged after Lhosia.

Maleneth turned to Trachos with a despairing look. The Stormcast took an instrument from his belt and fixed it to the head of his sceptre with a click. Cool blue light washed over Maleneth’s shoulders, and she climbed down the steps after Gotrek and Lhosia, Trachos following closely behind.

She could make out the Slayer’s squat, bulky form a few steps ahead as he halted in front of a doorway next to the priestess. The door was hanging from its hinges. As Trachos’ light washed over an opening of curved, metal-edged bone, it revealed a glimpse of a large underground chamber beyond.

Lhosia swore under her breath and shook her head.

Gotrek grunted in annoyance and booted the door down, stomping into the room with his axe raised.

They rushed in after the Slayer, and Trachos’ sceptre revealed a gruesome scene. Body parts were scattered across the floor, glistening in pools of blood and shrouded in fluttering moths.

Gotrek grimaced, but Lhosia fell to her knees as though she had been gut-punched, gasping, reaching out to the remains but not daring to touch them. Moths rose from the blood as her hands hovered over it.

Maleneth scoured the room for signs of the killer, but it was empty apart from the corpses, torn apart with such savagery that the whole chamber was splattered with gore. ‘Impressive,’ she muttered, nodding at the carnage.

Gotrek glanced at her and nodded to Lhosia.

Maleneth shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile.

The room was unfurnished apart from a few chairs arranged either side of a tall, curved door that led further into the temple. The door was ajar and there were trails of blood leading to it. A snuffling, grunting noise came from the next room, and then the sound of something heavy moving around.

‘The Unburied,’ whispered Lhosia, her words barely audible. She climbed slowly to her feet and staggered to the door.

Gotrek grabbed her arm and shook his head. ‘Let me go first, lass,’ he said, his voice softer than usual.

She wrenched her arm free and carried on, the others close behind.

Maleneth staggered to a halt on the other side, unable to understand what she was seeing. The room looked like a man-made orchard. The circular walls were punctuated by six trunk-like columns of bone that arched upwards and met in the centre of a domed ceiling. Each of the columns had a protruding limb about twelve feet in the air, and dangling from them was what looked like pale, rotten fruit, each one about the size of a man’s head. No, realised Maleneth, they were more like cocoons – dusty, bone-white bundles, like elongated eggs made of paper strips. And they were not rotten – they had been attacked. The six cocoons had been slashed by claws or a knife, and dark, viscous liquid dripped from the shredded remains.

Lhosia howled at the sight of them, her expression more horrified than when she had seen the corpses in the previous room.

‘What is this?’ said Gotrek, reaching up to one of the torn cocoons.

‘No!’ cried Lhosia, her words rough with fury. ‘They should not have been here! The prince swore that they would be moved!’

‘What are they?’ asked Maleneth, peering into one of the dangling sacks. She could see what looked like pieces of dried meat inside.

‘The Unburied,’ said Lhosia, her voice trembling.

‘Your ancestors?’ asked Maleneth.

‘My grandmother!’ gasped Lhosia. ‘My great-grandfather! His great-grandmother! All of them. They were all–’

Gotrek silenced her by raising his hand and nodding to the next doorway. The light of Trachos’ sceptre shone through into the next chamber, and there was something coming towards them.

Lhosia slumped against the wall, clutching her head. ‘Prince Volant swore an oath.’ She sounded furious. ‘They should have been taken to the capital.’

One of the mechanisms fixed to Trachos’ belt began to whirr and click. He looked like he was about to say something when the doorway exploded towards them.

Fragments of metal and bone filled the air as a huge shape smashed through, tearing half the wall down as it came.

‘Grungni’s Beard!’ snarled Gotrek. ‘That’s more like it.’

The creature lumbered into the room, shrugging pieces of masonry from its shoulders. It was twice the height of Trachos. It was clearly a cousin of the ghouls they had fought on the borders of the princedom, with the same deranged eyes and slavering jaws, but it was massive, clad in thick, scarred muscle and bristling with mutant growth – every inch of its greasy flesh sported tusks of bone that jutted through its muscles like spines on a burr. Its face was smeared with the same dark liquid that dripped from the cocoons, and as it locked eyes on Gotrek, it let out a feral roar, dragging down more wall as it launched itself at the Slayer.

Gotrek answered with a roar of his own and leapt at the giant, swinging his axe as he flew through the air.

The blade flashed, thudding into the ghoul’s chest with such force that the monster staggered back, carrying Gotrek with it. They smashed through the ruined doorway and landed in the room beyond.

Gotrek howled in annoyance as he stood atop the prone giant and tried to haul his axe free.

The blade refused to move. Rather than bleeding, the ghoul’s chest had swallowed the axe head, puckering around it and holding it fast.

The ghoul rose to its feet and punched Gotrek with an enormous fist, sending him flying across the room. The Slayer smashed into a stone column and slammed to the floor.

‘Gods,’ he muttered as rubble pattered down on his scalp. ‘You’re a big lad.’

While Gotrek grabbed the broken column and tried to climb to his feet, Maleneth sprinted past him, knives drawn, and leapt at the monster’s chest.

The ghoul lashed out with talons like swords, but Maleneth whirled out of reach, arching her back as she dodged the blow.

Before the monster knew what was happening, she dragged her blades across its throat and leapt away.

Maleneth landed with a curse. Her blades had remained embedded in the ghoul’s neck. Just like Gotrek’s axe, her weapons were being absorbed by the creature’s flesh. Now that she saw it more clearly in Trachos’ light, she realised that not only was the monster covered in spurs of bone, but also fragments of weapons – hilts and hafts jutted from between its ribs and shoulder blades, mementos from previous battles.

The ghoul locked its fist around Trachos’ throat, lifted him into the air and slammed him into Gotrek like a club. They crashed to the floor just as Maleneth reached the monster, and the three of them ended up in a mangled heap.

They helped each other up and backed away, panting and limping.

Gotrek wiped blood and dust from his face. ‘I didn’t escape the Dark Gods to be pummelled by this oaf. Distract the bugger and I’ll…’ The Slayer’s words trailed off as two more of the creatures stumbled into the room, just as massive and deformed as the first, their combined bulk almost filling the chamber. One was unarmed, but the second had wrenched a bone column free and was gripping it like a makeshift spear, its splintered point glistening with dark liquid.

‘Three of them,’ muttered Gotrek. ‘And they swallow weapons…’

Maleneth was gripping her head, trying to quell the agony reverberating round her skull, and Trachos was leaning against the wall, sparks coiling around his neck brace as he took deep, ragged breaths.

Lhosia strode past Gotrek, gripping her scythe and glaring up at the three giants with no trace of fear. ‘They murdered the Unburied.’

She sliced her scythe cleanly through one of the ghouls’ legs, causing it to stagger, then whirled away into the shadows, swallowed by the darkness before the creatures could fight back.

Maleneth nodded, impressed by the girl’s speed and bravery. She grabbed Trachos’ sceptre from a shattered plinth and hurled it to him.

The Stormcast raised the light, dazzling the giants, as Gotrek bounded across the room and leapt for his axe again. ‘Blazed pennants!’ cried Trachos, launching into song as his sceptre shone brighter. ‘And wondrous, gleaming pinions!’

The first ghoul staggered back into the other two, unbalanced by the impact of the Slayer slamming into it. As it fell, Gotrek roared in triumph, drowning out Trachos’ song. Rune-light rippled across his knotted muscles, blazing in his beard.

With a final, ear-splitting roar, the Slayer ripped his axe from the monster’s chest.

Gotrek cartwheeled backwards in an arc of blood, then rolled across the floor and charged back at the ghoul. This time, rather than sinking his axe into the monster’s chest, he followed Lhosia’s lead, swiping low and cutting through its ankle.

The monster fell heavily, smashing more columns and scattering cocoons.

As the ghoul landed, Maleneth dashed across the room, snatched a vial from her belt and hurled it into the monster’s gaping mouth, dodging aside as it reached out to grab her.

Gotrek had already strode on to meet the other two giants. The first tried to land a punch, but the berserk Slayer was too fast and the blow only succeeded in smashing more bone from the walls.

Lhosia leapt from the shadows and hacked through the ankle of the next ghoul, sending it smashing to the floor before she vanished into the darkness again.

Maleneth was ready. The giant had hardly hit the ground before she hurled a vial down its throat and backed away.

Trachos marched past the downed ghouls and levelled his blazing sceptre at the one still standing, causing it to reel away from him, arms raised in front of its grotesque face.

Gotrek barrelled across the room and swung his axe with such force that it hacked straight through both of the ghoul’s legs, dropping it in a shower of splintered bone. The creature slumped against the wall, and Maleneth hesitated, swaying from side to side as she tried to spot a route to its head. Then she had a better idea. She ran to the monster’s butchered leg and punched her fist into the severed muscles, leaving a vial embedded deep beneath its pallid skin.

As Gotrek, Maleneth and Trachos backed away, Maleneth’s poison took effect and the three giants began to smoulder. Smoke plumed from their mouths as they thrashed across the floor, clawing at their throats and eyes before erupting into flame.

The blaze was so ferocious that everyone was forced to back away to the doorway they had originally entered through.

Gotrek gave Maleneth and Trachos a grudging nod of respect. ‘Not bad,’ he yelled over the sound of the dying ghouls.

‘The Unburied!’ cried Lhosia, pointing her scythe at the door on the other side of the fire. The flames were spreading across the floor into the chamber the ghouls had emerged from. ‘The others may still be alive! They’ll be burned.’

Gotrek looked at the flames and laughed. ‘Rather your paper eggs than us.’

Lhosia glared at him, still gripping the scythe. For a moment, Mal­eneth thought the priestess might try and attack the Slayer. Then she shook her head. ‘Only the Unburied can guide me to Prince Volant. If you let them burn, you will never see the prince and you will never find Nagash. The prince could be anywhere in Morbium. And the princedom is vast – we could search for years and not find him. But the Unburied see all. They could tell me right now where Prince Volant is, and the best way to reach him without encountering more of the mordants.’

Gotrek stared at the fire. One side of his face was glossy with old scar tissue. He ran his finger over the burns. ‘I’ve been through bigger fires.’

He turned to Trachos and Maleneth. ‘Either of you know another way to find this prince?’

They shook their heads.

Gotrek gave his beard a thoughtful tug, looking at the priestess. Then he raced into the flames.

Maleneth cursed and headed after him, but the heat drove her back. ‘Trachos!’ she called. ‘Your faith will protect you. Follow him!’

Trachos nodded and limped towards the fire.

‘No, wait,’ muttered Maleneth, putting her hand on his chest. ‘I know what you’ll do if he has immolated himself. You’ll take the damned rune.’ She glanced at Lhosia. ‘Is there another way out of there?’

Lhosia nodded.

Trachos shoved Maleneth aside, heading for the flames again, raising his voice in skull-tightening song.

But before he reached the fire, Gotrek came charging back into the room, head down and cradling something, trailing sparks and smoke as he ran past Trachos and Maleneth and dropped to his knees, still laughing.

‘Got it,’ he said, standing up and grinning at Lhosia.

The priestess ran to him, ignoring the smoke and the heat as she prised his arms apart.

‘Intact,’ she whispered, gently lifting a cocoon from his grip. She closed her eyes and let her head fall gently against it.

‘Now the others!’ she said, staring back through the flames. ‘There should be another cocoon, like this one.’

‘It was empty.’ Gotrek nodded at the mess scattered across the floor. ‘Ruined like these.’

‘You’re lying!’ Lhosia put the cocoon under one arm and drew her scythe, her lips quivering.

Gotrek raised an eyebrow, calmly ignoring the blade that was inches from his face.

Lhosia’s eyes widened, and she drew the scythe back to strike.

Maleneth grabbed her arm. ‘He doesn’t lie. He really is that boring.’

The rage dimmed in Lhosia’s eyes. ‘All gone?’ she muttered.

‘Apart from that,’ said Gotrek, nodding at the cocoon she carried.

Maleneth tried to get a better look at it, intrigued by the awe Lhosia obviously held it in. ‘What is it?’ she asked, struggling to see it clearly in the firelight. ‘How is that your family?’

Lhosia sheathed her scythe and cradled the object like an infant. Then she nodded to the antechamber they had entered through. She walked towards it, indicating that they should follow. ‘Let me show you.’