by William King
Javier and the other Tinkers came over and bowed to Aisha then to Kormak then to the others. Javier looked at Aisha, bowed again and said, “Lady Aisha. I trust this cancels our debt to you.”
Aisha nodded. “When you deliver your messages, you will have fulfilled all the obligations our ancient treaty placed on you. You may go with honour.”
The old man bowed to her a last time, then stomped back to his wagon. Kormak could not help but notice she had said messages. He wondered who Aisha could be communicating with then pushed the thought aside. It would not make too much difference now.
He drew his cloak tight against the rain, cinched his bags and swung himself up into the saddle. The others did the same. The Tinkers waved farewell.
Sensing other eyes on him, Kormak turned and saw Shade and his ogreish friend studying them from the verandah of the tavern. The dark man raised a hand in an ironic salute. Kormak returned it, unsmiling then heeled his horse northwards towards the waiting hills.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“DOES IT EVER stop raining up here?” Sir Brandon asked, squinting into the downpour. Visibility was low and was getting poorer as the afternoon wore on. It would soon be dark as night even though it was still hours before sunset. Brandon kept glancing over his shoulder, in the direction of Elderdale as if he regretted leaving the town and heading north.
“When it snows,” Lucas said. Rain ran down his lean face and dripped off his stringy, drooping moustache. He no longer held his bow ready. He was keeping it wrapped and out of the wet. His hand toyed with the hilt of his long-bladed knife instead. “You sure this is the way the Old One told you, Guardian?”
“It’s the only road I see running through these hills,” said Kormak. It was truly a road. Flat stones had been set in the earth like a mosaic over which the horses walked. It was not muddy at least; it was not even particularly slippery for the mounts, which seemed unnatural. Along the route, tall markers inscribed with odd runes lined the path. Lucas saw Kormak looking at one. It depicted a grinning skull inside a lunar orb.
“Symbols of the men of Kharon,” he said. “I’ve seen them before. You find them scattered all over the hills.”
He spat on the ground. His spittle disappeared in the rain then he looked away and shivered and Kormak was certain it was not because of the cold.
“You don’t like this place, do you?” Kormak said.
Lucas gave a short bitter laugh. “You have a gift for understatement. I’ve not been easy since we got north of Elderdale. This is the worst bit of the Hills, on the edge of the Cursed Lands, all the old stories agree on that. You know there’s only one thing about this makes me happy.”
“What would that be?” Kormak asked.
“The soft southern bastards we’re chasing must like the rain and the cold even less than I do.”
He returned to peering ahead as if somehow he could see through the grey downpour if only he looked hard enough. “What you think we’re going to find?” he asked, looking at Kormak sidelong. “When we get there I mean.”
“I don’t know,” said Kormak. “Nothing good.”
“They say the Defiler had ten king’s ransoms in treasure buried with him.”
“Is that why you came?”
“The thought did not discourage me.”
“If we find any gold that’s not tainted we’ll split it.”
“They say spending gets rid of the taint on gold.”
“No, it doesn’t. Not if the Shadow has seeped into it.”
“I know, Guardian. It was a joke. You can’t grow up in these hills without hearing about that. There’s a lot of stuff you can’t grow up without hearing.”
“Like what?”
“Like don’t stray too near a barrow after dark. People disappear when they do, you know, even when the barrows are closed. They just vanish, no one knows what happened to them. They say they were dragged down by the wights. You think that’s possible?”
“I’ve seen stranger things.”
“I’ll bet you have. You ever seen dead men walking, afore now, I mean?”
Kormak nodded.
“It’s kind of reassuring that you’re still here then.” He fell silent and they rode on through the rain. All around them the hills loomed. Huge boulders looked like toppled standing stones. Maybe they were.
They found shelter for the night off the road. Large rocks surrounded them. They arranged smaller rocks to form a barrier and a windbreak and they built a fire. It was getting colder the further they progressed into the hills but at least the rain had stopped. Overhead stars twinkled in the sky and the moon’s face was visible through a gap in the scudding clouds. Kormak studied his companions by the fire’s light. Mostly they looked shadowy. The wolf’s eyes reflected the flames oddly. One corner of the sky was greenishly lit by the fires of the Great Comet.
“It’s much brighter tonight,” said Brandon. “Why do you think that is?”
“It is a sign that evil times are coming,” said Lucas.
“You can never go wrong with a prophesy like that,” said Kormak. “Evil times are always coming.”
“Then those who say that are pretty much always right,” Lucas responded.
Kormak rose and moving away from the fire, he went up to the low barrier and stared out into the darkness. He did not want to ruin his night vision by looking too long at the flames. He could hear the other’s talking. It was reassuring just to hear voices in the cold of the Barrow Hills night.
“That is a bet you would win. I think...” Lucas’s words were cut off by a long, hideous undulating cry. It echoed through the cold night air. The horses whinnied in fear and Kormak was glad they were corralled by the barrier. Brandon rose to gentle the steeds.
“What in the Sun’s Light was that?” he asked.
“A ghoul,” said Lucas. “Nasty bastards. These hills are full of them. It’s probably caught our scent or the scent of the horses. They love the flesh of man or horse, providing it has rotted long enough.
“They say armies of them roamed the hills after the Defiler’s Curse,” said Aisha.
“Plenty of rotting bodies for them then, I suppose” said Lucas.
“It sounds like a damned soul howling in torment,” said Brandon.
“I would not know, Sunlander. I have never heard any of those. I’ve heard these before though. We should be safe enough in a group like this providing there’s not a big pack of them.”
As if to mock his words, more howling erupted from the hills around them, echoing all the valleys. Brandon’s hand reached for his sword. Lucas picked up his bow.
“Best build up the fire,” Kormak said. “Just in case.”
He clambered up onto a large boulder and squatted there so that he could get a better view of their surroundings. He thought that he could see a group of shadowy figures moving across the valley. They were about the size of men but something about their posture told him they were not. As he watched they began to lope closer. They were lean and long limbed and moved from upright to running on all fours quite easily.
Kormak felt someone else climbing beside him. Lucas joined him. He grinned and said, “Ghouls all right, a hunting pack and we’re in their territory.”
Casually he strung his bow and selected an arrow. He sighted at one of the pack and pulled. His arrow whizzed into the night. One of the ghouls made a sound like a dog whose tail has been trod on only much louder. The rest of the pack came on at greater speed.
Kormak watched the ghouls lope closer. Lucas fired another arrow. It took one through the heart and knocked it over. It began to scrabble to its feet once more. Kormak was reminded of the hill-man’s encounter with the strangers they were pursuing. The ghouls had the same kind of resilience to mortal weapons. Kormak drew his blade. He was used to fighting such foes and it was rare to find anything that dwarf-forged steel could not cut.
As the first ghoul reached them, it sprang, a weird cavorting leap that brought it crashing down on the top of the
rock. It was a jump no mortal man could have made. Kormak struck, a clean blow that separated the monster’s head from its shoulders. The flesh sizzled where he cut, and drops of black fluid, more like melted flesh than blood, dripped. The headless body moved on, crashing down next to their companions.
Lucas fired again. This time his arrow pinned a ghoul’s foot to the ground. Kormak leapt down amid the pack of monsters. His blade flashed left and right and two more of the creatures fell. A clawed hand grasped his arm before he could react. Strange charnel breath-fumes hit him. He felt dizzy for a moment and expelled all the air from his lungs in case of poison. A grey flash came out of the gloom and the ghoul toppled as Shae ripped at his throat. Its claws tore free from Kormak’s arm, leaving great gauges in the leather of his jerkin and drawing blood from the muscles of his bicep.
Ignoring the pain, Kormak stepped forward, blade flickering out. The runes on it glowed now and the ghouls’ yelps held a panicked quality. This was not what they had been expecting from their prey at all. A bull-like bellow ripped through the air and Brandon charged into the fray wielding his greatsword two handed. It tore through even the unnaturally resilient rubbery flesh of the ghouls. Another arrow flashed out of the night. This time it took a ghoul through the eye. It was either a fantastically skilful or a fantastically lucky shot under the circumstances.
Kormak kept attacking, fast as a great cat, striking down a ghoul with every blow. Within another few moments, the ghouls were fleeing into the night. Shae started to race in pursuit until Aisha called him back. Kormak turned to see what had happened to the others. Aisha stood with a bared dagger. Lucas was still perched atop the rock, bow in hand, shooting at the fleeing ghouls. Sir Brandon was chopping the corpses up with his blade although whether this was driven by fury and fear or a sensible desire to make sure the things did not rise up again was beyond Kormak’s ability to tell at that moment.
He looked out into the dark. With the ghouls in retreat there was no obvious threat. He shouted for Brandon to stop, not wanting to get too close to the big man in case he was in some sort of berserk rage. He had to shout again and again until it was obvious Brandon heard him. He looked up, jaws working in fury, lips curled in a fighting sneer. He shook his head as if to clear it and then he gave a rictus grin that was closer to a snarl than a smile.
Lucas dropped from the rock and began to pick up the few arrows that were still usable. “Nicely done,” he said as he walked past Kormak. “You know how to use that sword.”
“Sit still and stop fidgeting,” Aisha said. Kormak did as he was told as she rubbed the herbal salve into the wounds. “Often these things can become corrupted.”
“I know,” Kormak said. “I have been wounded before.”
“I can tell by the scars,” she said. “But you’ve never been bitten by a ghoul or you would not be so cheerful.”
“They say the bite is poisonous,” said Kormak. “Or that it carries some wasting disease.
“Think of all the rotten meat between their teeth. That would be enough to poison most men if it got into their blood,” she said. “Anyway essence of guildwart should prevent that from happening. I could try some healing charms if you would take off your amulets.”
“Not necessary,” said Kormak.
“You’re not a very trusting man, Guardian,” said Aisha.
“Life has given me no reason to be.”
Around the fire, the others chatted and smiled. The atmosphere had definitely changed for the better. Lucas and Sir Brandon talked like old comrades. Kormak smiled. He had seen this sort of thing happen after battles. There was nothing like facing a common foe to forge bonds between warriors. For once even the gloom of the Barrow Hills seemed to have lifted.
“I don’t think I have ever seen better shooting,” Brandon said. “You had half those ghouls down before I even got to them,” Sir Brandon said.
“I got one or two,” Lucas allowed. “But Sir Kormak got most of them. Best swordsman I have ever seen.”
“You are not the first to say that,” said Sir Brandon. “I’ve only known two who were better.”
Kormak raised an eyebrow. “I am sure you are going to tell us who.”
Aisha rubbed the ointment into the wound. The faint smell of something bitter touched his nostrils. There was a stinging sensation that quickly vanished.
“Your old master, Malan,” Brandon said.
Kormak nodded. “I will give you that one.”
“The King’s Champion Dalian.”
“He was a very good swordsman,” Kormak said.
“But you think you are better,” said Brandon.
“He was good in a tournament,” said Kormak.
“Look at him, he kills a few ghouls and he thinks he’s better than the royal champion,” said Sir Brandon. There was a joshing undertone to his voice and something else, a little darker.
“No shame in being bested by a King’s Champion,” said Lucas.
“He never bested me because we never fought.”
“You think you could have beaten him?”
“We’ll never know. I’m not ever likely to fight him.”
“You could always challenge him,” said Brandon.
“Why would I do that?”
“Then you would know.”
“I don’t fight for fun,” Kormak said. “And I don’t fight to prove how brave I am.”
He let those words hang in the air for the moment to see whether the knight would pick up on them. Kormak remembered his fury earlier. These comments were not really about him but he was stung by his friend’s attempts to needle him.
“No. You fight to kill things,” said Brandon. Aisha looked at him. Clearly she had picked up on the strange currents in the conversation.
“You all fought like heroes tonight,” she said. “And I am grateful for that. I can see that none of you were afraid of the ghouls.”
“I was,” said Lucas. “I don’t mind telling you that. When I saw that pack coming for us I thought my life was over.”
For some reason his words seemed to calm Brandon. “Forgive me, Kormak. My blood is flowing fast tonight. It was the fight. I do not question your courage or your skill.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Kormak said. He knew whose courage and skill the Sunlander knight was really questioning; his own.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE LAND LOOKED worse as they moved on, even bleaker and more empty. Grey clouds hid the sun. A smell of rot drifted on the wind, and sometimes Kormak found there was a strange taste in his mouth as if invisible spores had somehow found their way in. His tongue tingled at times and he felt dizzy in the saddle. He pulled out the wraithstone amulet. It was a little darker, and black threads seemed to be extending itself through the core of the stone. They were in a shadowblight, for sure.
Kormak and Brandon rode beside each other. Lucas was at the front, on point, watching the road. Aisha rode behind them with Shae. The wolf’s tail hung between its legs and sometimes it raised its muzzle, sniffed the air and whimpered. Sometimes it snarled fiercely.
“I don’t like this smell,” said Brandon. He wrinkled his nose. The huge moustache lifted like a raised eyebrow.
Kormak said,“There is a taint on this land, the effect of the Defiler’s curse. Dark sorcery curdled an entire nation, turning the land sour, filling it with evil magical energies.”
“You were never the most reassuring travelling companion, Kormak.”
“I would not have believed things could be so bad up here after all these centuries.”
“Not many folk come this way and many of those who do, don’t come back. The sort of people who come here are not the type to let a little dark magic bother them either.”
“I am not at all sure things have not gotten worse recently. There is a feeling in the air as of something coming awake, of a power stirring.”
“You think it’s your necromancer friend up to his tricks?” He was trying to keep his tone light but Kormak hear
d the fear underneath.
“It’s possible.”
Brandon wrinkled his nose again as a gust of the cold wind brought more of the foul smell. Kormak felt as if something was catching at the back of his throat. Brandon started to cough.
“What do you think of the hill-man?” he asked.
“He seems alright,” Kormak said. “He’s brave enough.”
“I was thinking the same. He fought well last night.”
“The wolf fought well too,” said Kormak.
“It’s a beast and everyone knows they don’t like unnatural things.”
“It is more than a mere beast.”
“Familiar?”
“Something of the sort.”
“I will take your word for it. She’s an odd one as well.”
“No odder than any other witch.”
“I don’t have a lot of experience of those. I just think sometimes she behaves like a great lady at court and other times she reminds me of old Agnetha back in Hungerdale.”
“I’ll need to have words with her,” said Kormak. “There’s things that need to be said before we reach the end of this road.”
The hills grew more bleak. The few trees were white barked, blotched with fungus, leaves a rotting black. The worst thing about them was that they still possessed a diseased life, tentacular roots holding onto the blighted soil of the Cursed Lands like the grasping fist of a miser clutching his last copper coin.
Clusters of rock, some of them inscribed with black and white spiral runes emerged from the blasted landscape. Tumbled buildings, marked with the moon and skull emblem of Kharon, marred the hillsides, the burned out remains of what once had been fortified hilltop towns. Empty windows watched them pass. Something about them reminded Kormak of the eyes of skulls. Kormak felt the weight of ages press down on him. Time and death lay heavy on this land.
Clouds had settled on the tops of some of the hills, great monsters of fog waiting to swallow anyone who rode into their billows.