by Warhammer
‘There are fewer of them,’ said Ivan Petrovich with a weak grin. ‘And they do not seem so well organised.’
‘I think these were just remnants of the main force left wandering aimlessly around the keep,’ said the countess. ‘I do not think they were sent to attack us specifically.’
Max agreed. There had been too few of these zombies to pose a threat. The countess could have torn them apart herself. In fact, Max resolved, the next time this situation arose, he would stand aside and let her do just that. ‘How much further?’ he asked.
‘Not far now,’ said the countess. There was a strange gleam in her eyes.
‘She went this way,’ said Gotrek.
‘Are you sure?’ Felix asked. He tugged at his cloak nervously. The sense of oppressive evil had deepened. He really did not want to be in this place. In answer to his question, the Slayer shook his head doubtfully.
‘I am not the tracker Marek is, but these are her prints in this mould.’
‘Perhaps those lights up ahead are a clue as well,’ said Snorri Nosebiter. Both Felix and Gotrek glanced in the direction he indicated. Felix thought he caught sight of Ulrika slipping through a low archway. He felt sure that neither the archway nor the lights had been visible moments ago. He felt certain that either he or Gotrek would have noticed them.
‘That’s very convenient,’ said Gotrek.
‘Isn’t it?’ said Felix. Without further discussion they moved towards the light.
‘Herr Jaeger! Herr Gurnisson! It gives me great pleasure to renew our acquaintance.’
The throne room was vast, quiet and appeared to be in good repair. On a massive ebony throne lolled Adolphus Krieger; Ulrika crouched down by his side. His left hand played with her ash blonde hair the way a man might idly stroke the head of a favourite hound. His right hand toyed with the familiar talisman at his neck.
‘Snorri Nosebiter is here too, you cheeky bastard,’ said Snorri.
‘My apologies. I was not sure whether to call you Herr Nosebiter or not,’ said the vampire with an amused smile. His face was clearly visible in the light of the enormous chandelier.
How had it been lit, Felix wondered? And why? Around the walls stood countless suits of antique armour, filling every niche. Each held a sword, a pike or some other weapon of antique design but obvious utility. He thought he detected movement overhead. A quick glance revealed only deeper shadows moving in the blackness above the lights.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Gotrek, advancing towards the throne. ‘You are dead.’
The vampire raised his hands. ‘Wait a moment,’ said Krieger. ‘My other guests are about to arrive.’
Max entered the enormous throne room just behind the countess. His gaze swept past the massive throne and was drawn as if by a magnet to Ulrika. She looked so pale. Fangs were visible in her mouth. His heart sank when he realised that she had become a vampire.
Max asked himself what he was going to do. He had come all this way to rescue her, and it looked like she was beyond salvation. Could he really kill her? Could he really stand by and watch as Gotrek attempted to do so?
He was almost glad when a sudden massive surge of magical power drew his gaze to the throne.
Felix saw Max Schreiber, Ivan Petrovich, the countess and her lapdog Rodrik enter from the other side of the chamber. They looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see them. He saw the look of horror and despair sweep over Max’s face. He understood it all too well.
What was Krieger planning now? Why had he brought them here? Surely he must have some sort of ace up his sleeve or he would not look so confident. Not unless he was completely mad. Or utterly secure in his power.
‘Countess Gabriella. It’s been a very long time. I am so pleased that you are the first to answer my summons. Rest assured you won’t be the last,’ Krieger smiled.
‘I should have put you down when I whelped you,’ said the countess, her voice chilly with hate. Any doubts about the animosity between the two Felix might have had vanished. The countess sincerely wished Krieger dead. Well, that makes two of us, Felix thought. Gotrek watched the confrontation between the two with interest and began to move towards the throne, holding his axe ready.
‘Alas, countess, the time for such regrets is long past. I am the master now. You will serve me as surely as young Ulrika here.’
Was there something fluttering among the rafters of the hall? Felix was sure he had heard something. As he looked up again he felt certain he could see massive scraps of black shadow fluttering about. Things were not as they seemed here at all, he told himself. He needed to be very careful. He placed his lantern on the ground and held his sword warily.
‘We shall see,’ said the countess. Felix was certain he heard a hint of doubt in her voice.
‘Indeed we shall. I have mastered the Eye now. Allow me to demonstrate.’
The talisman at Krieger’s throat flared dazzlingly. Just the sight of it made Felix dizzy. Gotrek halted for a moment, covering his eye with his arm. The countess gave a shriek and fell to her knees. Rodrik ran to her side, solicitously. Max watched everything very carefully, as if following the invisible flow of power with his mage sight. Snorri Nosebiter looked just as bemused as Felix felt.
Ulrika stared miserably at her father. He stared back disbelievingly. Felix wished he did not have to look at their faces; they were such studies of horror and misery. Quickly he looked back at Krieger. If anything, the vampire appeared to be enjoying himself even more.
The countess raised her head. An odd glow entered her eyes. Her whole expression changed. She stood up, moving jerkily and mechanically, as if her mind fought with something else for control of her body. Fear, hatred and impotent rage flashed across her face. Rodrik moved to her side, reaching out for her with all the tender concern of a worried lover.
Gotrek prepared to charge. Felix made ready to follow him.
Max watched the incredibly complex flows of energy emerging from the vampire on the throne. Doing so distracted him for a moment from his horror at what had happened to Ulrika. The mesh was of incredible complexity, speed and subtlety. It reminded him of the defences he had encountered when he had probed the Eye of Khemri himself.
It was difficult to follow such a swift, complex casting but Max did his best. There were elements of compulsion there, reinforced with strong threads of dark magic. The power of the thing was incredible. Max doubted that such a spell could be used on a mortal; it was too finely attuned to the dark magic-saturated physiognomy of a vampire.
Thin tendrils of dark magical energy, emanating from the throne, coiled down to the stones of the castle. Great roots of magical energy delved down through the floor into the stonework. Krieger had attuned himself to the castle, which was why he was not struggling to overcome the wards the way Max had to.
Closer inspection revealed the tendrils were connected through the throne to the Eye of Khemri itself. At this moment Krieger was drawing power from the keep for some purpose Max could not yet guess, although he could see the dark magical energy beginning to shimmer around the vampire’s form. The power was so great he was surprised that no one else in the room could see it.
The countess had claimed that Krieger was an indifferent mage. Something had certainly changed. He was maintaining two very potent spells with superlative skill. Max doubted he could have managed quite so well himself.
Max would have been willing to bet that Krieger had not always cast spells like this. He was attuned to the talisman now, and it was affecting his magical signature, changing it to resemble its creator. It was likely not all that had been changed either. Doubtless the vampire’s mind was being subtly altered too. He shivered briefly at the closeness of his own escape. Who knew where such a process might end up?
The countess moved towards him. Max prepared to defend himself.
Ulrika knew as soon as she saw the woman called the countess that here was a fellow vampire. Perhaps it was like calling to like, she did not know. U
lrika could tell at once that this new woman was immeasurably stronger and older than she herself was. She watched in despair as the countess tried to resist Krieger’s binding spell and failed. She saw her put up an enormous struggle. It seemed that she could feel the echoes of that struggle in her own mind, and even as she did so, she felt the bonds holding her weaken a little.
Was it possible that while Adolphus used his strength to subdue the countess, his grasp on her was somehow weakened? If so, would his grip return once her struggles ceased? Ulrika knew she could not take the chance. Frantically she tried to break the mental shackles holding her, to force her way to Krieger’s side and attack him.
Felix saw Ulrika begin to move, and Gotrek react as if to a threat. The Slayer raised his axe and prepared to strike, although at least twenty paces separated them from the dais. Noticing this, Krieger gave a laugh and gestured with his right hand.
Something massive and dark flashed downwards from the ceiling. Enormous wings spread to break its fall, massive jaws, full of razor sharp fangs and glistening saliva opened to rend and tear. It was a huge bat, its body larger than any man’s. The hooks on its wing tips were razor sharp. It slashed at Gotrek, and the Slayer whirled and ducked, striking at thin air as the creature swept past.
The displacement of air behind him was the only warning Felix had. He threw himself flat even as a winged shadow loomed on the floor in front of him. Pain seared his shoulder like vitriol as flesh parted. An upward glance revealed another of the huge bats hurtling away from him, up towards the cavernous ceiling of the hall. Eerie high-pitched chittering filled Felix’s ears.
The clang of metal announced a new threat. One of the massive suits of armour stepped down from its pedestal and began striding towards him. More clattering told him that others were springing into a similar horrid semblance of life.
‘Look out!’ he cried as several of the armoured forms lumbered towards the Slayer.
Adolphus Krieger felt his two captives struggle against the chains he had placed around their minds. He knew it was futile. There was no way they could resist him. He had the power of the Eye of Khemri; even two women as strong-willed as they could not resist him. The Servants of the Throne would take care of the other interlopers.
A crash of metal on metal drew his attention. He looked down and saw the accursed Slayer piling through the armoured figures of his guardians. His mighty axe smashed through their metal breastplates, cleaving metal to reveal the bones of the animated skeletal constructs within. Even as Krieger watched, a skull rolled from its helmet and the red light of its eyes faded and died.
The monstrous Servants swooped from above. Felix Jaeger ducked the sweep of one’s massive membranous wing, and slashed it with his sword, ripping flesh and sinew. The gashed wing interfered with its flight and the Servant tumbled to the stone flagstones. Another Servant grabbed Snorri Nosebiter in its claws and raised him into the air. The Slayer struggled like a mouse in the talons of an owl as he was borne high into the vaulted ceiling. The Slayer’s furious struggles allowed him to slip from the creature’s bloody talons. Snorri dropped like a stone, tumbling through the air, arms and legs flailing. Krieger grinned. There was no way anything could survive that.
Felix watched Snorri tumbling to his death. A growing sense of helplessness filled him. There was nothing he could do to save the dwarf. Then Snorri lashed out with his axe, hooking the massive chandelier. He hung there, as the monstrous bat closed in for the kill and the chandelier swung like a pendulum. Two more massive bat-winged creatures dropped towards Felix. It was going to take all of his attention to stay alive. There would be time enough later to worry about Snorri Nosebiter. He ducked the slash of one razor-sharp talon, rolled under two talons that tried to grab him and stabbed upwards into the belly of the wounded one. Black bile spurted, obscuring his vision.
Max watched the countess turn her eyes towards him. Their gazes met with an impact that was almost physical. He had heard much of the vampire’s hypnotic glance before, but experiencing it was something completely different. He felt as if all the will were draining out of him: all he could do was stand there like a small bird fascinated by a serpent.
His head spun from trying to maintain his concentration amid the wards of the castle. At that moment, all he wanted to do was give in. Normally, he would have been able to resist her easily, but these were not normal circumstances. He was drained of strength from the long battle, and his mind reeled under the influence of the castle’s warding spells. It was all he could do not to simply surrender to her power immediately.
As he stood there paralysed, Rodrik, the countess’s faithful lapdog, advanced towards him, blade bared.
Ivan Petrovich looked up at his beloved daughter, knowing that she was no more. Her soul had been devoured. A daemon had taken possession of her body. There was nothing he could do now but slay her, and lay her body to rest. Hopefully doing so would free her soul to go to eternal rest. So all the old tales claimed.
Yet he found himself reluctant to advance and do his duty. He could remember what she had looked like as a small helpless infant, smiling and glad on the day he had received her first pony, torn by grief at the death of her mother.
How could he forget holding her in his arms as a child or all of the memories of their shared lives? How could he kill her now?
She is gone, he told himself. There is nothing left of her, only a daemon wearing her form. You must do your duty now, even though it’s the hardest thing you will ever do. Anything else would be a betrayal of all those fine soldiers you left dead on the way here, and of Ulrika herself. You can mourn afterwards. You must do this thing even though it kills you.
He kept his eyes fixed firmly on her as he charged towards the dais, blade in hand. It was only at the last moment he heard the swish of wings in the air, and felt razor-sharp claws bite into his neck.
Adolphus Krieger looked down from his throne and saw that things were going well. The fat old man was dead. The stupidest of the two Slayers was about to die. The countess and her lackey would take care of the wizard. Felix Jaeger was on his knees blinded by blood as two of the Servants flapped overhead, circling like hawks about to swoop for the kill. All that was left was Gotrek Gurnisson and his axe. He would take care of it himself.
The Slayer crashed through the last of the armoured guardians and stood at the foot of the dais, brandishing his mighty weapon. His beard bristled and his one mad eye glittered with insane fury. He looked like some unleashed god of battle. For a moment, Krieger felt almost afraid, but only for a moment.
It was time to put an end to this farce he decided, throwing wide his arms, and drawing on the full power of the Eye. His bones rippled and elongated, and his skin stretched. His features flowed into a new configuration. Long talons ripped the flesh of his fingers. Enormous strength flowed into him, and he knew there was nothing he could not do.
Frantically, fearing at any moment to hear the hissing of air and the slash of talons, Felix wiped the black stuff from his eyes with his arm and scrabbled for his blade. As he did so, from the corner of his eye he caught sight of Adolphus Krieger’s transformation.
The vampire’s skin cracked open. Reddish flesh erupted through the pallid, broken skin, flowing like melted candle wax into a new shape. His face became longer, his ears became larger and his hair seemed to withdraw into his head. White bones emerged from the mass, lengthening and thinning; translucent folds of flesh wove themselves around them, becoming monstrous bat-like wings that ended in weirdly human hands. Huge scythe-like talons sprang forth from his fingertips. His eyes became larger and darker, his head more triangular. Massive ears emerged from his head, and his nose flattened.
Krieger’s whole body lengthened and grew taller, forcing him to hunch forward in a bestial manner. Within seconds an awful hybrid of bat and man loomed over the Slayer, casting a terrible shadow. Even as it did so more of the armoured guardians sprang forward to assail Gotrek. The monstrous bats assaulting Felix wit
hdrew to join the attack. Gotrek swept his axe around in a huge arc, striving to hold them at bay with its fury.
As he did so, the Krieger thing sprang forward with awful speed, so fast that Gotrek had no time to strike. In an instant those razor-sharp talons were digging into his throat. Droplets of red beaded the dwarf’s skin. For a terrified heartbeat, Felix wondered whether this was where the Slayer’s saga ended. If it did, he knew his own tale would end shortly thereafter.
Ulrika saw her father fall, and horror and despair swept over her in a tidal wave. For a moment, she had been worried that the old man was going to kill her, and she had undergone a brief surge of guilt at the relief she felt when she saw him fall. She knew that he was the one person in the world she would not have defended herself against. This guilt amplified her anger and her despair. Her rage sought an outlet and found it in the monstrously mutated form of Adolphus Krieger. He was responsible for all of this. He had brought her here. He had changed her. It was because of him that Ivan Petrovich had come here looking for her, and found his own death instead.
She threw all the force of her will against the bonds that held her. Strong as they were she felt them shiver. And distantly, she sensed she was not alone in the struggle. Another will joined hers in resisting Krieger’s evil spell, the will of a being much older, stronger and more disciplined by dark sorcery than her own. Together they began to throw off the chains that bound them.
Max watched Rodrik’s blade descend. It was all he could do to force himself to duck to one side. The blade caught his arm and drew blood. He saw the vampire lick her lips hungrily. She leapt forward to pinion him, pushing aside her lackey. Ivory fangs flashed nearer to his neck. Her eyes had expanded to vast pits that filled his consciousness and threatened to swallow all awareness.
Suddenly, she stopped, and the hellish light in her eyes flickered. Max felt the will bearing down on his weaken, as if it were distracted. Perhaps it was. He could sense the bonds of Krieger’s spell begin to weaken. Those incredibly strong hands loosened themselves from his throat. He fell to the floor and caught sight of the monstrous bat-creature that had been Krieger dash Gotrek to the ground. He loomed over the Slayer like the shadow of doom.