Against the Unweaving

by D. P. Prior

  “Freedom, of course. And after that, turning the tables on the Demiurgos and sending him back where he came from.”

  “The weight of the universe on your shoulders, eh, laddie?” Nameless said. “Felt like that myself once.”

  “This is not the same!” Aristodeus said. He wrenched the tube out of the bag and rapidly coiled it up and lay it on Nameless’ belly. “Tape,” he muttered. “Tape, tape, bloody tape.” He located what he was looking for on a desk and began to tear off strips from a spool, which he used to stick the coiled tube to Nameless’ skin. “There, you can go now. Just remember, once a month—”

  “Yes, yes, laddie, back here for dinner. How could I ever forget?” Nameless jumped up from the chair and tugged down his hauberk. “Well, with your permission—” He turned the great helm on Aristodeus. “—think I’ll see what Pellor has to offer. Heard it’s a festering backwater and a den of thieves, but that just tells me I won’t get bored. Who knows, if it doesn’t work out, might even head back to New Jerusalem, maybe even catch up with the little fellow.”

  “Shadrak?” Rhiannon asked. She looked at Aristodeus. “Please don’t tell me you’re sending that scutting shogger back with us.”

  “Not one of mine,” Aristodeus said. “I couldn’t care less what he does.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Shader said. “If it hadn’t been for Shadrak, you’d not be standing here. Neither would the rest of us.”

  Nameless offered his hand, and Shader took it. “Glad we see eye to eye on that, laddie. Credit where credit’s due, eh? And don’t forget what you did, either. Makes this old dwarf proud to have been there with you.”

  Shader’s instant reaction was to withdraw, to deny he’d done anything save look on as the gladius put an end to Gandaw’s enslavement of Eingana, but Nameless tightened his grip and drew him into a hug.

  “You did good, laddie, and if anyone tells you otherwise, they’ll have my axe to… Shog, the blasted thing broke.” He turned the eye-slit of his great helm up to where the black axe lay encased in crystal. “Don’t suppose…”

  “No!” Aristodeus said, rushing over and ushering him toward the door.

  “Just joshing,” Nameless said, tapping the side of his helm. “The ol’ bucket’s still working.”

  “Even so,” Aristodeus said, “it’s not a matter to joke about.”

  The door slid open, and Nameless stood there for a moment, head bowed. “No, laddie, you’re right there. No joking matter.” He suddenly looked up. “You have a lead, though? So we can destroy the axe and get this thing off my head. I thought you said—”

  “Yes,” Aristodeus said, “but you’ll have to be patient. There are a million and one other things to do, but I’m already working on it.”

  “Till we meet for dinner, then,” Nameless said. He waved at Rhiannon and gave Shader a nod of respect as he stepped outside, and then the scarolite door slid shut behind him.

  “Right,” Aristodeus said. “Work to do, and time, as they say, waits for no one. Well, that’s not strictly true, is it, my dear?”

  Rhiannon rolled her eyes.

  Time? Was that it? Was that why Rhiannon had changed so much in a matter of hours? “You’ve been training her, haven’t you? In the Abyss.” He said it like an accusation.

  “It’s called turning adversity to one’s advantage,” Aristodeus said. “Gandaw—or rather Eingana—might have put me into the Demiurgos’s clutches, but there is no time in the Abyss, what with it being across the mouth of the Void. You can hardly blame me for making the most of it.”

  “How long?” Shader looked to Rhiannon for an answer, but she merely shrugged. “How long have you been training?” When she ignored his question, he turned back to Aristodeus. “What do you want her for?”

  “Insurance, in case you screwed up.”

  “Fat lot of good that did,” Rhiannon said. “I killed a few metal crabs and then got snatched by that silver sphere.”

  “Yes, well, thankfully Shader did what I hoped he would, so the effort wasn’t entirely wasted. You may have bought him some time.”

  “More than that,” Shader said. “If it hadn’t been for Rhiannon and Nameless, I’d never have gotten anywhere near Gandaw.”

  “Bollocks,” Rhiannon said. “But don’t get sidelined. He hasn’t told you everything yet.”

  “Nor shall I,” Aristodeus said. “Suffice it to say that I always have a fallback plan, and in this case, given that you somehow managed to lose the Sword of the Archon, I’m glad to have two more irons in the fire.”

  “Nameless?” Shader said. “He’s one of them, right?”

  “Maybe,” Aristodeus said, “but Rhiannon will play the greater part. Don’t take that as being let off the hook, though. You are still my weapon of choice. Once I find the sword, you’ll be hearing from me.”

  “Well, let’s just hope you don’t find it,” Shader said.

  Aristodeus glowered for an instant but then masked his irritation with a smug grin. “With or without it, you may still prove useful. I’ll have to see. In the meantime, Mephesch is outside. He’ll take you to the particle chamb… the portal room. They’ve worked hard, the little beggars, modifying technology Gandaw used to to retrieve the statue from the Homestead. Just tell him your destination, and he’ll plot a course. One good thing about Gandaw, he left us eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “Good,” Rhiannon said. “So, even a shithole like Oakendale should be easy to find, right?” She cocked her head at Shader, and for the first time in a long while, she smiled. “Fancy a beer at the Griffin?”

  Shader stared blankly at her for a second. Beer? That would be good. Or maybe something stronger, after all he’d been through. But the Griffin? Oakendale? He tried to read her, but in her eyes there was nothing but pain and something else… anguish, maybe. Possibly even fear.

  “I’d love to,” he managed, “but I’m not going to Oakendale.”

  She shrugged and did her best to look nonchalant. “Where, then? Sarum? Or you heading back to Pardes for another go?”

  He shook his head and gave her a wry smile. “Aeterna,” he said.

  Rhiannon gasped, and her hand went to to her stomach, as if she were going to be sick.

  “I will see you again,” he put in hurriedly, but she waved his words away.

  “Why? Why Aeterna?” She drew in a deep breath and ran her hand over her head.

  “You all right?” Aristodeus asked, moving to hover over her like an over-protective father.

  “Fine,” she said.

  “There are things I need to find out,” Shader said. “And there’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

  “I may still have need of you,” Aristodeus said. “Don’t lose sight of that. Just need to find that blasted sword or something else to get the job done.”

  “Forget it,” Shader said, fingering the pendant beneath his tattered surcoat. “I’ve made my decision. No more fighting. Not for you, not for anyone.” He held up a hand when the philosopher tried to protest. “No more words, Aristodeus. I’m done with you. I’m off to Aeterna, and that’s final. And who knows, if they can forgive me for running off with the sword in the first place, and if Adeptus Ludo can set me straight about one or two things, I might even—”

  “No,” Aristodeus muttered, as if he’d finally been taken by surprise. “You can’t. You’re not cut out to be a priest. You’re a fighter, Shader. You know that. You always have been.”

  “Yes, well, you made sure of that, didn’t you?” Shader said.

  Rhiannon was staring at him open-mouthed, and her eyes had darkened to wells of emptiness that, even if he relented and went back to Sahul with her, he knew he could never fill. They’d both come so far since he’d almost given up the consecrated life for her; they’d changed so much. She’d rebuffed his advances for the sake of his soul, so she’d said, but in reality it was Aristodeus again, manipulating behind the scenes. So much suffering, so much heartache, and all so the philosop
her could gain an advantage in a centuries-long struggle with the Demiurgos.

  He reached out a hand to touch her cheek, wiped away a single tear with his thumb. Her lips were trembling, but he couldn’t do anything to comfort her. He was no longer even sure if he wanted to. Damaged goods is what they were now, and no one but Aristodeus was to blame.

  “Come on,” Shader said, placing a hand on Rhiannon’s shoulder. He half-expected her to swipe it off, but she left it there and let him guide her to the door. “We can talk on the way to this portal room.”

  Now it was Aristodeus’s turn to look jealous, and he took a step toward them, but then stopped in his tracks to wipe a bead of sweat from his glistening pate.

  The door slid open, and they stepped into the vestibule. Mephesch was waiting for them, an enigmatic smile playing across his face. Shader didn’t trust the homunculus as far as he could throw him, but that wasn’t his concern. That was a problem for minds older and wiser than his, he thought with bile.

  “Do what you must,” Aristodeus said, “but when the time is right, I’ll call upon you.”

  “And the answer will still be no,” Shader said as the door closed behind them.

  Here ends the First Shader Trilogy:

  Against the Unweaving

  The story picks up in the second trilogy:

  Against the Abyss

  starting with Shader: Book Four:

  The Archon’s Assassin…

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  ABOUT D.P. PRIOR

  I was born in the South East of England in the late sixties, just in time to get a good sniff at the Summer of Love.

  I spent most of my childhood immersed in fantasy and SF novels as well as Marvel comics. I also had an unhealthy obsession with D&D and was, for a long time, a member of the rather dodgy wargaming society at the Archery recreation ground.

  After studying theatre at Lewes I did a season as Father Christmas, worked as a lighting and sound technician, and then trained for three years to be a Mental Health Nurse. I started in one of the Victorian asylums but ended up at the University of Sussex.

  Once qualifying, I was immediately off to Aberystwyth to study for a BA in Drama. I also studied Classics and Medieval History and ended up specializing in Acting and Intercultural Theatre.

  I gained twenty years of varied experience in mental health, working in acute services, crisis resolution, management of violence and aggression, and eating disorders. This was interspersed with a five month postulancy with the Carmelite Order in Melbourne and further studies at the University of Notre Dame in Western Australia.

  Web: dpprior.blogspot.com

  Facebook: facebook.com/dpprior

  Twitter: @NamelessDwarf

  ALSO BY D.P. PRIOR

  The Nameless Dwarf

  The Ant-Man Of Malfen

  The Axe Of The Dwarf Lords

  The Scout And The Serpent

  The Ebon Staff

  Bane Of The Liche Lord

  The Nameless Dwarf: The Complete Chronicles

  Shader

  Sword Of The Archon

  Best Laid Plans

  The Unweaving

  The Archon’s Assassin (forthcoming)

  Rise Of The Nameless Dwarf (forthcoming)

  Saphra (forthcoming)

  The Memoires of Harry Chesterton

  Thanatos Rising

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Sword of the Archon

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  MAPS

  THE PHILOSOPHER’S EYES

  VISITS IN THE NIGHT

  THE SWORD OF THE ARCHON

  THE BARD OF BROKEN BRIDGE

  THE AURA PLACIDA

  THE SCENT OF IMMORTALITY

  STAGE FRIGHT

  RUJALA

  THE ANCHORITE

  THE STATUE OF EINGANA

  THE GIG

  CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS

  AFTER THE SHOW

  WHERE NOUSIA ENDS

  THE CAT’S OUT OF THE BAG

  THE SCENT OF POWER

  THE ORPHAN

  THE MAZE

  RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL

  THE SICARII

  A BROTHER IN ARMS

  THE TEMPLUM OF THE KNOT

  OF EVILS PAST AND PRESENT

  THE SHAMAN AND THE IPSISSIMUS

  TO FIGHT FOR AIN

  THE CHILD IN THE ROAD

  THE AID OF THE FALLEN

  THE BLACK HAND

  THE MEETING

  THE MAWGS BENEATH

  KNOTS

  ILLUSIONS SHATTERED

  MALICIDE

  TO AWAKEN THE LOST

  REJUVENATION

  CONFESSION

  SHAMAN’S VISION

  THE DUEL

  CADMAN’S COUP

  PAST GLORIES, PRESENT WOES

  DREAMER’S APPRENTICE

  A TEMPLUM BESIEGED

  THE SUMMONING

  SCREEN 55

  THE COMING TERROR

  THE DEATH OF DEACON SHADER

  Best Laid Plans

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  MAPS

  OCEAN’S EYE

  A TRICKY VENGEANCE

  MAMBA

  ARABOTH

  GODS OF THE DREAMERS

  TAJEN

  IN THE SERVICE OF THE ARCHON

  THE WAY BACK

  THE LACUNAE

  THE RESURRECTION OF DEACON SHADER

  PLANS AND PREPARATIONS

  SERVILITY AND COMMAND

  IN TOO DEEP

  THE LION’S DEN

  FENRIR FOREST

  SEER’S WEB

  THE DOME

  THE PRISONER OF ARNBROOK HOUSE

  THE FATE OF THE GHOST

  THE BATTLE OF SARUM

  SEKTIS GANDAW’S SHAMAN

  THE VILLAGE

  THE MESSAGE

  A CONTRACT WITH THE ARCHON

  THE FALL

  IKRYS

  A HARMONICA IN THE NIGHT

  THE TEMPLUM FLEET

  THE GREAT WORK

  THE COMING CONFLICT

  THE EMPEROR’S RULE

  A RETURN TO UNDEATH

  THE SLAUGHTER OF INNOCENTS

  NOUS IS NOT NOUS

  DOOM OF THE SICARII

  NEMESIS

  BREAKOUT

  BROTHER OF MINE

  THE COMMON FOE

  ROGUE’S LAST STAND

  THE BATTLE OF THE HOMESTEAD

  The Unweaving

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  MAPS

  A DWARF WITH NO NAME

  THE END OF WORLDS

  THE SOUR MARSH

  THE STOWAWAY

  THE DEAD LANDS

  NOTHING’S PERFECT

  384 WAYS TO KILL

  SALVE OF THE BLACK SWORD

  A THING THRICE DEAD

  FOR NOUS, ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE

  STARTING AT THE BOTTOM AGAIN

  ARX GRAVIS

  NOT A GOD

  THE NAMELESS DWARF

  A CHANGE OF PLAN

  GOING PLACES

  THE TOWER OF IVORY

  NEW JERUSALEM

  HUNTED

  APPEASEMENT

  THE ART OF PERSUASION

  THE GIFT

  LADY LUCK

  FALL FROM GRACE

  THE ANT-HILL

  BIRTH OF THE UNWEAVING

  WHERE TIME HAS NO MEANING

  OUTCLASSED

  ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAIN

  THE UNWEAVING

  THE PARTING OF WAYS

  About D.P. Prior

  Also By D.P. Prior

  Contents

 

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