He slid down at my back, settling himself behind me, and reached round to grip me with one arm and the saddle horn with the other. “Gallop, Sumto. I have you now, you can't fall.”
I didn't need to be told twice. I yelled and kicked back. The horse kicked out hard, coming to a full gallop in less than half a dozen strides. Were it not for Sapphire's firm grip, I would have fallen.
Ahead of us, Balaran and my men had already passed through the ruins of the gate. I headed the same way, held fast in the saddle and kept steady by Sapphire's strength and agility.
Whatever Balaran had in mind, whatever Tahal planned, Jocasta was in the middle of it and I wanted her out of there. To get her out of there I had to be there. I headed for the ramp that sloped sharply up to the gate and pressed the horse for more speed. She was a handful, her instincts to flee the smoke and fire at war with my command, but now that I was secure in the saddle I could bring all my skill to bear, and I am no novice horseman.
We were unopposed as we thundered up the ramp to the broken gates, slowed only slightly by the slope, effortlessly avoiding the few who fled the fires within. Those same fires were no threat to us, I saw, as we passed into the town; the buildings were well spaced with great stretches of open ground between them where there was nothing to burn. There was no other threat present; Balaran and the soldiers had passed this way before us. The dead and dying were strewn in our path like autumn leaves, made flickering crimson and scarlet by the light of the numerous fires that filled the night with their crackling roar and the crash of collapsing timbers.
I kept the pace to a canter to avoid a stumble in the confusing light and focused on the most direct route to the centre of the town, following where Balaran and Tahal had both already gone. The only people close enough to be a threat were those people fleeing them or those who lay dying in their wake. I picked a path through the carnage and chaos of panicked people and animals and kept moving. Further from us there were islands of organized men and women still intent on fighting the many fires that were spreading through the town. Among them were sure to be Necromancers and others who might be a threat to us but they were too far away for now and I paid them no heed, instead focusing on the path ahead and the most direct route to the centre of the town, though I had no idea what I would find there or what we might be forced to deal with. Who now was ally and who enemy? What were their objectives and how much of a threat were they to me and my own desires? I had no idea and no time to think about it.
The way was clear ahead of us, a wide corridor that led directly to the inner wall, and there a cluster of riders raced ahead of us. We had a unobstructed view of a sudden concussion that tore the gate apart in a cloud of flying debris and flaming wood. I caught just a glimpse of a horse and rider passing through the gap in the ruined wall. Tahal, then, had almost reached his objective. Balaran and the others were not far behind him. Whatever was to happen, we would not be there to influence it. I kicked back and urged my mount to more speed. None of their horses had made a jump and Sapphire had given no warning, so I pushed the pace, confident there were no fences in our way even though I couldn't see the way clear enough to be sure. In moments we were out of the worst of it, most of the flames now behind us and only the clear ground between town and the inner wall well ahead; Balaran and the rest were already there, passing through the ruined gate ahead of us. I hoped Dubaku was among them. Hoped he would be able to reach Jocasta before anything happened to her, not only for her sake, but also because she would be our only sure ally when we entered the hall and whatever we might find there.
We closed on the gate at a gallop. The screams of panicked horses sounded from ahead of us, accompanied by the cries of men that mirrored them. My own mount checked but I controlled its fear and forced it on at a slightly slower pace, closing on the shattered gate. Two terrified horses bolted through, blindly heading our way, frothing at the mouth and eyes wide with terror. I barely controlled my own horse as it checked and tried to turn and flee with its fellows. In moments they were past us and I had my own mount still, head tucked down against its chest, forcing it to stand. It backed away a pace, trembling under me. No matter what I did I couldn't make it take a single step forward.
“Give it up,” Sapphire said.
“She's going to kick off as soon as we are off her back,” I warned him, sliding my feet slowly clear of the stirrups.
“Let go,” he ordered and I dropped the reins, holding my hands clear and bringing my right leg up.
One arm tight around my abdomen, Sapphire threw himself backwards, arching his back and pushing off. I raised my right knee to my chest as we were half thrown and half threw ourselves clear of the saddle. Sapphire arched first back and then forward, chest tight against my back, thighs against mine, bending me at the waist. Somehow he was controlling me and himself as we fell, blurred images spun before my eyes. He took the impact as we hit the ground feet first, still holding my whole weight and at once stepping away from the wildly kicking mount. My feet touched the ground but it was a moment before I had them solidly under me. My head continued spinning for a moment after we were still and he held me for a second to be sure I had my balance before letting go.
We stood in the gateway and and turned as one to face the hall. The inner enclosure was dark, the fires in the town showing only flickers of light and shadow between us and the open doorway of the hall. I could still hear terrified horses running wildly within the inner defences, and an enormous crash as one horse ran blindly into a wall, screaming its distress. The open doorway was lit from within and out of it shadows spilled into the space between us. I forced myself to draw my sword and step forward, Sapphire moving easily at my side. My eyes flicked from side to side as we walked through the gateway; the hall was large but simply crafted. Dozens of shuttered windows were opened to the night and from them clambered more of the shadowy figures in a constant stream. They flowed from the building, came closer, moving rapidly and lithely despite the fact that they were obviously corpses.
I swallowed bile. They stank. As they moved into the light I could see those on the leading edge more clearly. Their bodies were slender but not in any way healthy. Their flesh was covered in fresh clay and through that wet coating, their burst flesh oozed a clear liquid. Eyes hunted the night, mouths gaped in feral grins that spoke of a cunning awareness. These were nothing like the undead I had seen before. These were hunting creatures, alert and intent on the chase. They were aware of us, their predatory gazes flicked over us and away with barely an instant of interest. They were moving our way but not directly toward us. They were hunting, but we were not the prey. A dozen of them swarmed over a black-robed figure, literally tearing him apart. Around them danced spear-carrying soldiers in archaic plate armor, struggling to save their masters, and succeeding only in sharing their fate.
Several of the dead moved our way.
“Sapphire?” My voice didn't break, not quite. My muscles ached with tension. If they attacked us there were far too many to fight and hope to survive.
“Wait and see,” his tone was as cold as ice, it betrayed nothing of what he might be feeling.
The first creature came close, gaze sliding toward me, then brushed by me. The next came nearly as close and then another; two more parted before us, passing to either side. And all the time more of them were spilling from the doorway and open windows. A flood of predatory corpses sliding past us, moving out from the hall and away into the night. Sapphire and I exchanged a glance, then moved forward as one, taking each step as a single action. My whole body tingled, hyper-alert and ready to move at any time. My breathing was slow and deep, barely controlled but not the rapid panting of panic, despite what I was feeling. If they turned on us there was no hope of surviving it.
Each and every one of them looked at us with their dead eyes and then looked away and past us. The closer to the doorway we came, the more densely packed they were, glistening flesh damp against me, smearing wet clay on armor and clothing. T
he smell of the grave and the things that rotted in it filled my senses, made my head swim, my eyes water, and my guts tremble on the edge of rebellion. Somehow I controlled the urge to retch and moved on.
In the doorway itself we pushed through one at a time, jostled and pushed as the walking corpses forced their way past us. They growled deep in their fetid throats but not one made a move against us. The pressure eased as we passed through the doorway.
The hall was well enough lit, burning brands and braziers illuminated everything. Slowly, mind and body trembling, I took it all in. The sea of dead surged through the hall, seeking any egress. Their movement dominated the room. It was moments before I saw anything else. That first thing was a body at my feet. I nearly stepped on him. He lay in a heap, drowning in a spreading pool of his own blood that still trickled in runnels across the dirt floor. The blood dripped from raw wounds all over his body where the dead had bitten great chunks of flesh away from the bone. I looked down at him him, my feet in his spreading blood, taking in the remnants of a tattered black robe and the torn flesh beneath. Parts of his face were missing. I stepped round him, gaze flicking here and there, until I saw Jocasta huddled on the floor. My heart leapt painfully, thumping harder than if I had been punched in the chest. She was bound but unhurt. Her gaze met mine in mute appeal. Without deciding what I would do, still taking in my surroundings, trying to understand what was happening, I stepped closer to Jocasta. Not far away, Balaran stood still as a statue, his back to me. Around him the soldiers had formed a useless protective cordon, now breached by the dead who paced between them, eyes darting, probing briefly and then, not finding what they sought, moving on. Another step and I saw Tahal through the steady stream of dead; he stood in the centre of the hall. At his feet lay a grave dug into the dirt floor, and from it the creatures climbed in a steady stream, clawing their way out of the earth, their skin slathered in wet clay as they gripped the edges of the grave and climbed free of it.
Outside a wild scream sounded, shocking in its frantic intensity..
“Sumto,” Tahal drawled. “I wasn't sure you were going to make it. How's the head?”
I shuddered. Tahal was trying to seem offhand, relaxed, but the fear and tension radiated off him like heat from a fire. As Tahal spoke, Balaran looked over his shoulder at me, white-faced and wide-eyed. He shrugged, and turned back to face Tahal and the grave
“Rattled your brains a little, eh? Well, probably no appreciable difference there, then. Any idea what's happening? No? Well, you do surprise me. Charging in to the rescue, yes? Well, no one needs rescuing here, Sumto, so you might as well sod off.”
I shook my head, took another step forward, and another.
Tahal shrugged. “As you will. Balaran is as close as I want anyone to get for now, so don't come past him. I don't suppose I have to spell out why not, even to you. They know my mind and are about my business. You would be wise not to be...”
“Conspicuous?” I said.
“A threat, Sumto. Wise not to make yourself a threat.” His eyes glittered dangerously for a moment.
I kept moving, hardly aware of what I was doing; certainly I had no plan of action. There was nothing to be done. We had lost; Tahal had won; whatever these things were, they were his and far too many to consider fighting. I was aware of Sapphire close by, knew that I was moving closer to Jocasta. And I was critically aware of Tahal, watching me, his body language jittery and his words edgy and clipped.
“We just have to hang on for a while. Let these beauties do their work. It's really just the Necromancers I'm after,” he winced. “Pity about the others but...”
“You can't control them.”
I'd almost grown used to them, crawling from the grave in an endless stream, passing by us, between us, ignoring us. Then they all hesitated at once, began casting about; fixed their attention on me and headed my way. The blood ran like ice through my veins and I dropped into a defensive crouch, Sapphire by my side, ready to strike the nearest creature. Then they lost interest, like a ripple spreading from a pebble dropping into a pond; they turned away and began to head once more to seek the closest way out of the hall.
I straightened slowly, heart beating fast and fluttery in my chest. I turned back to Tahal. He was sweating.
“I can control them well enough,” he said. “But their instructions do have to be very specific. Right now they hunt the Necromancers, seeking any of the black robes,” his face twisted into a grimace. “I expect there will be a few regrettable errors. I doubt they will understand the difference between a robe and a dress, or a man and a woman for that matter. And anyone foolish enough to attack them will probably die, of course. Their guards, for example; I doubt there are many of those left alive, unless they flee.”
I stepped past Jocasta, putting my body between her and Tahal, turning sideways and glancing back and down to find her frightened but calm; my gaze took in her bound hands, empty of stone; I searched the dirt floor around her but found no sign on the compacted earth. It might not mean anything. I had not seen Dubaku. I guessed he was close, shielded from view by his ancestors' spirits, biding his time, waiting for the right moment to act. I hoped he would find it. I hoped there would be a right moment.
I turned back to Tahal, who was still speaking, and stepped closer to him. “When they are done, or when I'm fairly sure they are, when they've broken the back of the Necromancers' power, I'll bring them back and send them home,” he gestured down into the grave. Even at the thought the flow of creatures stopped, every one hesitated for just a moment before beginning to move again. Tahal shook his head. I was close enough to see beads of sweat on his lip and brow. “Nasty kind of mind my ancestor must have had, to have created an artefact like this.”
So, that's what it was. A stone-crafted thing. Made like any other magical item, by consuming stone. A large stone, in this case. It must have cost a fortune. A large stone and a grave, and a warped and unusually talented mind.
“And the Necromancers?”
“Sit around staring into the grave for a few years, I suppose. If you do that you'll learn something of its nature, be changed by it just by proximity. It's very...”
“Influential.”
He nodded. “Yes. But they can't master it, of course. They gain some abilities, develop some talents, but the key to the grave is here,” he held up the stone he held and then pointed to his temple with his index finger, “and here. We don't mind the Necromancers using it, but when they get a little too ambitious they have to be...”
“Curbed.”
“Exactly. Curbed. Doubtless someone will find it again in time to come, study it, learn what they can and then a new group of Necromancers will emerge. This is not the first time it's happened; and they always grow, spread, then someone has to come out here and deal with them. Not exactly convenient. Still, you wouldn't want this sort of thing in the city would you?”
I shuddered in horror. “Gods, no. Why didn't you just come straight here?”
He looked up, suddenly meeting my gaze. “We lost it. Family secret. Too well kept. In the north, well that could be bloody anywhere couldn't it? So I had to get close to the Necromancers and gain their...”
“Trust.”
“Hmmm,” he glanced back the grave, shuddered and looked back to me.
“By betraying the city.”
“Yes. Well. Not much, actually. Not usefully. Not in any way that mattered. We'll make a deal, your father and mine, your family and mine. You know where this is and what it is, but not how to use it. Actually, that can't stand, can it... no, that won't do at all. Family secrets should stay in the family, yes?” He giggled. “I had your girlfriend a few times on the way up here, by the way.”
I shrank, somehow. As though my soul sank into my gut. My body felt heavy and dull. My mind stopped working.
“Seemed silly not to and she won't remember; and neither will you,” he held up his stone and I was suddenly confused. At the same moment the dead hesitated, stopped m
oving in their unending stream, began casting around, just like me; seeking something, something they had lost. Then they were moving again, as before. Tahal took a deep breath and let it out slowly, attention once more on me. I couldn't think; I'd lost the thread of the conversation. I looked around me; seeing everything but understanding nothing. Something had happened. I caught Sapphire's eyes on me and I met his gaze... Sapphire? Was that his name? A wave of dizziness swept over me and the room spun. The sudden pain felt like someone had driven a spike between my eyes. My lids dropped closed and I heard my own tortured grunt of pain. A moment later I gritted my teeth and forced the lids apart. Things hadn't gotten any better. The dead filled the room, fifty or more of them, heading for the door and climbing through the windows. There must be a hundred or more outside. And more were climbing out of the grave. I shuddered and tried to look away, but they were everywhere.
“No thoughts of revenge, Sumto? No? Good. Too many of you to kill, you see; the death of three patrons would cause interest, cause too many questions; and this way no one dies. And for me, no prosecution, no trial, no punishment. You will forget all about this and we won't have a problem. And if there is ever civil war in the city and my family need something serious to deal with it, well, the grave will be here to give us the edge.”
I was shaking my head. Dizzy. My vision was blurring and I had trouble keeping my balance. Was he talking to me? I tried to focus on the man standing by a hole in the ground, talking. Who was he? What was he saying?
“Who's next?”
Sapphire stirred at my side. He strode past me, heading for Tahal, whose eyes widened in surprise as he realized Sapphire's intent. I followed hesitantly, fighting through the pain in my head, instinct pulling me in Sapphire's wake. He was moving fast, brushing by the dead, who paid him no mind for a moment, but then turned as one and closed on him from all sides.
It all happened very fast. I saw it all, took it all in, confused, unable to think or react fast enough to make any difference. The city soldiers spun into defensive positions and hacked into dead flesh that cared nothing for the blades that struck limbs from their bodies or slid deep into them. Clear liquid spurted from the wounds, clearly under pressure but as colorless as water.
The Key To The Grave (#2 The Price Of Freedom) Page 28