Gotrek & Felix- the Second Omnibus - William King

by Warhammer

  The vampire adjusted her veil and covered her mouth while she yawned. Felix was not sure whether she was trying to tell him he was boring her or whether she was feeling the effects of the daylight. He told himself that he didn’t care. ‘Who else could it be? Who could have got so close to the camp without being spotted by sentries or setting off your friend the wizard’s defences?’

  ‘You think he could have penetrated them?’

  ‘No. I inspected them myself and I doubt the Great Necromancer himself could have pierced that weave without setting it off. Max Schreiber is a very competent mage.’

  ‘I am sure he will appreciate that ringing vote of confidence.’

  ‘Tell him what you will. Just be sure he is alert. Drakenhof is a place of power, sacred to the Arisen. Strong wards protect it. The very stones are steeped in bloody magic, and there are potent weaves of illusion and masking on the place that will affect all save the Arisen or those bound by blood to them. Krieger is not going to allow us to walk right up and decapitate him. I think right now he is preparing a very cold reception for us indeed.’

  ‘That is not reassuring.’

  ‘This is not a pleasure jaunt, Herr Jaeger. We are heading towards the lair of a very dangerous beast.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

  Suddenly from outside came the whinnying of panicked horses and the shouts of warriors, intermingled with blood-curdling howls.

  Felix let the door of the coach swing open and jumped out into the snow, wrenching his sword from his scabbard as he landed. Up ahead a melee swirled. From out of the shadows beneath the trees long loping forms emerged to strike at the horses. Enormous red-eyed wolves sprang from cover to hamstring mounts and rip the throats of the riders who fell from the saddle.

  Felix raced forward. In front of him a wolf worried at a Kislevite horse-soldier. The man had got his arm between the creature’s jaws but the white-furred beast was massive and strong. It kept the man off-balance and unable to draw his knife while its kin circled closer. Felix kicked the wolf’s head, sending the beast tumbling backwards. It bounded back up immediately and returned to the attack, madness in its eyes. Vile sorcery was at work here, Felix thought, whipping the beasts into a rabid frenzy.

  Felix took the hilt of his sword in both hands and swung it in a great arc, slashing across the chest of the pouncing wolf. The impact of the massive body almost knocked Felix over. He recovered his balance and lashed out again, half-severing the wolf’s head. He glanced around to see what had become of the other wolf and saw the soldier wrestling with it, rolling over and over in the snow. He had one hand at its throat while he stabbed it with the dagger held in the other.

  Off in the distance, an explosion sounded, swiftly followed by the smell of burning flesh. Max was using his magic, Felix guessed. Ignoring the distraction, Felix took careful aim at the second wolf and stabbed. His blade passed through the animal’s ribs. Blood gouted from its mouth. It gurgled as it died. The warrior pulled himself to his feet and wiped himself down. Felix saw that it was Marek.

  ‘A handy stroke,’ he said. ‘And thanks for it.’

  Felix nodded his acknowledgement and took in the scene of the battle. Dozens of wolves bounded through the snow. Here and there a few lay pierced by arrows. Still more had their skulls crushed by the hooves of horses. Many lupine corpses lay in puddles of red blood, testimony to the deadly skill with which the men of Kislev wielded their sabres. In the distance, smoke billowed and golden light flared. Max Schreiber was still alive and invoking his terrible powers.

  Gotrek and Snorri stood atop the supply sled, bellowing war cries and daring the wolves to attack them. Both of their ponies were dead. A small hill of white furred bodies showed that the two Slayers had not been idle. Rodrik and his companions had formed up around Gabriella’s coach, determined to protect her from harm but taking no part in the battle. No wolves had come near them. Felix wondered why.

  At least a dozen men and horses were down. And judging by the screams more were going to be. He strode across to the two Slayers, the Kislevite at his heels.

  ‘This is not natural. Wolves do not attack large bands of armed men unless provoked!’ Felix shouted.

  ‘Your powers of observation amaze me, manling,’ sneered Gotrek leaping down from the sled. ‘I think we can take it for granted that this is the handiwork of our bloodsucking friend up ahead.’

  Snorri plunged into the snow behind Gotrek. ‘Snorri thinks it’s not right, sending these poor wolves to fight for him. He should have come himself.’

  ‘Be sure to tell him that when we run into him,’ Felix suggested mildly. ‘Right now we’d best go help Ivan Petrovich and his lads.’

  Gotrek glanced significantly at the four knights surrounding the coach and making no move to aid the Kislevites. ‘It would seem that some folk here would disagree with you.’

  ‘We’ll deal with them later. First things first. Let’s kill some wolves.’

  ‘Fair enough, manling.’

  ‘Snorri still doesn’t like it. Poor beasts.’

  ‘You’ve picked a bad time to start having scruples about killing things, Snorri,’ said Felix.

  ‘Snorri didn’t say he wouldn’t kill them. Snorri just said he doesn’t like it,’ said Snorri Nosebiter racing off towards the fray.

  ‘How many men have we lost?’ Felix asked.

  Ivan Petrovich looked at him wearily. His breath rasped heavily from his chest. He wiped blood and sweat from his balding forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s a good job Max was here to do some healing. We’ve three men dead, and five more wounded. Two of those can still fight once their wounds are bandaged. The other three won’t be good for anything for a while.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Felix knew what he wanted to suggest, but Ivan was the leader of the horsemen, and this was his decision. Ivan sucked in his cheeks and considered for a moment. ‘Under normal circumstances I would leave the two who can still fight to guard the ones who can’t, along with the sledges we don’t have ponies for, but right now I am loath to do it. The wolves might come back, or other things might come for them, and I would not wish that on my worst enemy, let alone these lads.’

  It was as Felix had feared. The whole purpose of the attack had been to slow them down, and the wounded were going to do that. It was suspicious how the wolves had fled once about half of them had been cut down. They had attacked as if they were starving but had left without taking any food. It was not natural. Felix looked over at Max. The magician was sweating a little and his chest still rose and fell like a bellows.

  ‘How are you feeling, Max?’

  ‘I’ve felt worse.’

  ‘Can you still cast a spell?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I suspect this attack was meant to wear us down.’

  ‘I wish I could disagree, Felix, but I can’t.’

  ‘We should expect more attacks before we get to Drakenhof.’

  ‘That will slow us down too. We’ll need to move cautiously.’

  ‘Let’s hope we can still get there before dark,’ said Felix. Somehow he doubted they would.

  The shadows lengthened; the wind grew colder. Felix drew his cloak tighter around him and trudged on through the snow. His nose still ran. He felt a little feverish. Behind him, he could hear the grunts of Snorri Nosebiter and Gotrek as they dragged the sled along. He was still amazed by this display of strength. The two dwarfs had drawn the heavy sledge along for most of the day without showing any signs of weariness. Except for the odd grumble and curse they even seemed to be enjoying themselves. Felix thought: I will never understand dwarfs; the worse things look, the happier they seem.

  ‘If I had known you two were so good at this, I would have had you pull the sledge sooner. The ponies could have ridden with me.’

  ‘Snorri thinks we could have eaten them,’ grumbled Snorri.

  ‘In the mines dwarfs carry their own burdens and pull their own o
re trucks,’ said Gotrek. He sounded almost nostalgic.

  ‘Snorri once pulled a truck up and down the Black Pit shaft for three days without stopping. Fought off a tribe of gobbos at the end too. Bastards tried to steal Snorri’s truck.’

  ‘And you couldn’t have that, could you?’ said Felix ironically. He glanced over his shoulder. A small lantern glowed on the countess’s coach and Felix could see Quentin and two of his companions riding alongside it. Doubtless Rodrik was inside, providing the vampire with some nourishment. Well, tonight they would most likely have need of her strength – unless she betrayed them.

  The young Sylvanians looked pretty sullen, as well they might after the haranguing Gotrek and Snorri had given them earlier about not joining the fight. It had been all the countess had been able to do to restrain them from attacking the two dwarfs. Of course, Gotrek had let them have a few well-chosen words about being brave now that the big bad wolves had gone. That hadn’t helped things either. Still, he could understand the dwarfs’ anger and the smouldering resentment the Kislevites held towards the knights. It was not good to have companions who did not pull their weight in a fight. Even though Felix knew the reason why this had happened, he resented it himself.

  Now, of course, the knights were desperate to prove their manhood and work off this slur against their honour. They glared belligerently at anyone looking at them. Felix saw Quentin notice his own glance and he was rewarded with an angry glare. Felix shook his head. Idiot, he thought. At least Ivan Petrovich had stopped trying to send the countess on her way. He could not do that when there were wolves about and maybe worse things waiting in ambush.

  Ahead, the wounded lay on the second sledge where Max could tend them. Ivan Petrovich rode alongside sharing a comforting word or two with his injured soldiers. All things considered the old march boyar was holding up pretty well, Felix thought, considering his age and all his worries. Felix felt bad about not letting him in on the countess’s secret. On the other hand, given the fact that his daughter was in the hands of the countess’s own ‘son’, who knew how Ivan would respond? Felix had decided it was better not to take the risk.

  He wondered what would happen when they found Ulrika. He supposed it depended on how she was. If she were a prisoner, they would free her, but if she had been changed into one of the undying, what then?

  Felix still wasn’t sure of how he felt about the woman. Once he had thought they had been in love, but after the initial infatuation had passed, it had been a troubled and difficult relationship. She had not been the easiest person in the world to get on with, although, he supposed, neither had he. Still, there was something there, some emotional bond between them, at least on his side. He did not know if he could bring himself to try and kill her. No, that was not true. He was certain he could not, nor could he stand by and let Gotrek do so either. He felt pretty sure that Max felt the same way.

  But would she feel the same way about them? That was the real question. He had talked with the countess about this, and she had done her best to allay what she called his superstitious fears. He had grown up believing that vampires were possessed by monstrous, malefic spirits that would turn them against their own flesh and blood in an effort to slake their terrible thirst.

  The countess had told him this was not so. Vampires were driven to drink blood but they maintained all of their old memories and loyalties and affections. The problem was that for a newly risen vampire the thirst was near uncontrollable and they would attack whoever they could find when in its grip. All too often that proved to be their kin, unless another older, wiser vampire was there to guide them. Felix was not at all sure that the countess’s explanation reassured him. In its way, this sounded as bad as the daemonic possession theory.

  More to the point, she had told him that if she were one of the Arisen now, Ulrika would almost certainly be under Krieger’s sway. The countess claimed that no newly risen vampire could hold out against the power of the Eye of Khemri. She had urged him to do his level best to restrain or slay Ulrika. A strange note had entered the countess’s voice when she talked about her. She sounded almost jealous. Did she see Ulrika as a potential rival for Krieger’s affections? If so, what did that say about her true motives?

  In the gathering gloom, surrounded by this sinister forest, it was all too easy to believe that this was all some complex scheme to lure them into a trap. Would the countess really side with mortals against her own kind? It did not seem likely. Felix could not imagine ever siding with the Arisen against his own folk.

  He shook his head, and gave a bitter laugh. What a hypocrite you are, Felix Jaeger, he thought. Only a few minutes ago you were considering that very thing, when you were trying to decide whether you would let Gotrek slay Ulrika. It seemed that these situations could indeed be complex. If you could judge the motives of a vampire by the motives of a human.

  Somewhere off in the night, a wolf howled.

  ‘Furry bastards,’ muttered Gotrek.

  When they breasted the last hill and Drakenhof came into sight Felix was surprised. It seemed impossible that they had not noticed so massive a structure before now. Even though logic told him that the trees and the roll of the hills had concealed it until that moment, there was something sorcerous about its sudden appearance. Felix had been expecting something small, like one of the fortified manors of the Kislevite nobility. What he saw now was built on an entirely different scale. It appeared as if a huge hill had been carved into a castle. The building had once surely been as large as the citadel of Praag, and its architecture was just as twisted, albeit in a different way.

  The stonework was not as intricate. Even in the fading light of the blood red sun, he could see that. The dominant motif was one of skulls and bones. The casements of the windows had been carved to resemble skulls. The monstrous main gateway was encased in the gaping maw of another gigantic fleshless head. Gargoyles clutched the side of the building, bat-winged, skeletal. Felix half expected them to come to life and flap down to attack. Snow had settled like a crust on the stonework, adding to the haunted look of the place.

  It was obvious that the castle had lain in ruins for centuries, and that it had fallen to siege. There were huge holes in the walls where war engines had battered through them. Many of the statues had been defaced and someone had obviously taken a hammer to the stonework in an effort to deface the symbols. If anything this added to the atmosphere of faded grandeur surrounding the place, and contributed to the sense of sinister evil hovering over it.

  Coming on such a massive structure so deep in the forest was something of a shock. He had become used to thinking of Sylvania as an impoverished land, a place where everything was smaller and meaner than in the rest of his homeland. He had not expected this. He pointed this out to Max.

  ‘It just shows what can be done with undead labour,’ said the wizard.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Doubtless this place was raised using necromancy, by what laymen call zombies and animated skeletons. They require no food, no sleep and no wages. All the builder needed do was provide the raw materials and they would work until it was done. If we searched around here we would find quarries from where the stone came from. Probably the wood was local too but in two centuries it would all have grown back.’

  Felix gaped at the wizard. ‘What about those carvings? I doubt mindless automatons could have made them.’

  ‘The Vampire Counts enslaved the whole population of Sylvania, Felix. They bound them with fear, superstition and sorcery. Doubtless they had craftsmen in their service who would do this work in return for their lives and the lives of their families.’

  ‘You are correct, Max Schreiber,’ said the countess. Felix was startled. In the gathering gloom the undead noblewoman had approached so quietly he had not noticed. Max did not seem surprised though. Either the wizard had some means of detecting her approach or he was better at concealing his feelings than Felix was. Probably both.

  ‘I can remember this p
lace when it was the capital of all Sylvania, when the aristocracy of the night sipped blood from crystal goblets, by the light of glittering chandeliers. When the most beautiful youths and maidens garbed all in white waited to be tapped, and all the while hoped to be selected to join us.’

  ‘There’s no need to sound so nostalgic,’ said Max.

  ‘It was a beautiful and terrible time,’ said Gabriella, and her voice had a sad haunted quality. ‘Not since the fall of Lahmia had the Arisen ruled mortals so openly or indulged themselves so unstintingly. It is well remembered in the chronicles of the undying. Few who were there would ever forget it. Some have never stopped wanting to recreate it.’

  ‘Of course, you are not one of them.’

  ‘I am ambivalent, Max Schreiber. I would have thought that you of all people would have some sympathy. Wizards too have been outcasts, shunned by those who feared them and resented their power. Can you not imagine what it means, not having to hide what you are, but being able to glory in it?’

  ‘Wizards have never tried to set up their own kingdom, and never tried to oppress those who did not possess their powers.’

  Gabriella’s laughter was tinkling, silver and utterly flaying. ‘You are being wilfully naïve, Herr Schreiber. History is littered with examples of wizards who have sought to carve themselves dominions. What was Nagash if not a wizard, and he conquered the greatest empire of antiquity. My people have cause to remember it. Many other mages have succeeded in carving out their own lands, if only temporarily. Believe me, I am old enough to remember some of them.’

  ‘Perhaps, but as a race or a class or a breed we have never sought to set ourselves up over others.’

  ‘Not yet, perhaps, but I think it’s only a matter of time before someone thinks to try it. Mortals experiment restlessly with their forms of government. Sooner or later someone is bound to think: why not a land where those who wield magic rule? Are they not usually wiser, and more learned than their fellow man as well as more powerful?’