So, Creed was understandably surprised when two old men wearing blue capes and orange body armour walked toward him, headed for the boarded-up warehouse across from his desk.
‘Wait a minute, you old geezers,’ said Creed. He put his hand on his pistol for emphasis. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘Home,’ they said in unison. The men looked at each other and smiled.
‘Well, you’re not living in that old building. It’s condemned,’ said Creed. He stood up and moved to intercept the men, who were still walking. ‘That’s the rule. It’s been a while since I read the notice on the wall over there, but I do remember it saying “No Entry”.’
‘He can read,’ said one of the old men.
The other stared deep into Creed’s eyes and smiled again. ‘And he questions the order of the world.’
Creed was getting creeped out by the way the two men talked about him but not to him. And they hadn’t stopped walking, which made him back up as he talked. He stopped and pulled out his laspistol, levelling it at the one with the cloudy eyes. The old man just smiled and stared at him – or, more to the point, through him.
‘Turn around and head back to the City,’ he said. ‘Maybe you can flop at Madam Noritake’s, if you got credits. If not, find some abandoned building in the Underhive. This is my post and I don’t want any trouble.’
The cloudy eyes began to swirl and Creed became unsteady, dizzy. He felt like he was falling into them.
‘Put away the weapon, Creed,’ said the old man.
Creed holstered his weapon.
‘Stand back and let us through. We won’t be flopping in the warehouse today.’
The guard stepped back and returned to his desk. The world around him seemed fuzzy, as if he’d had one too many Snakes. Shapes moved through the swirls. He heard voices, but it seemed like they were a long way away.
‘Tell him to read the books,’ said one voice.
‘He will,’ said the other voice. ‘It has to be his choice to read or not. But he will. I can tell. I can always tell.’
A few minutes later, Creed opened his eyes and looked at the abandoned warehouse. He was a little worried that he might have missed something when he fell asleep – that’s what had got Juke fired – but as usual, there was nobody there and nothing happening. Just him and the loneliest berth on the docks.
‘This job is so scavving boring,’ he said. Then he noticed a couple books on his desk. He looked around to see who had dropped the books, but saw nobody around. He picked up the books and read the titles. One was called The Universal Path. The other was Questioning the Truth. Creed opened up Questioning the Truth and began to read.
EPILOGUE:
THE MESSENGER
‘It’s strange knowing what’s going to happen before it happens,’ said Kal. He stuck his hand out as the barmaid walked by and caught the bottle of Wild Snake that fell off her tray. He thought about patting her rear as she left, but his cheek hurt just seeing her reaction in his mind. ‘I don’t know how Francks lived like this. It’s a little disconcerting.’
‘I thought his gift was only supposed to help you get Wotan back,’ said Yolanda. ‘How long is it going to last?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kal. He took a long swig of the Snake. ‘But while I have it, I should go back to Nemo’s gambling hole and clean up.’
Kal blocked Yolanda’s hand without even looking and took another drink. ‘Just kidding,’ he said. ‘With my luck, the gift would give out right as I made a big bet. No, I’m going to stay right here in the Sump Hole and drink with my friends – all of them.’ He patted Wotan’s head.
Kal pulled out the envelope Francks had given him. ‘Tonight’s on me,’ he said. ‘We’ve got money to spend and nothing will ruin this victory for me.’
‘Hey, Jerico–’ said Yolanda.
‘Yes,’ said Kal, pre-empting her demand. ‘You two can have your cut now.’ He counted out their shares of the Grak bounty and slapped two piles of credits on the table. ‘That still leaves enough for me to blow on this celebration.’
‘What I don’t understand,’ said Yolanda as she grabbed her share, ‘is where did Francks get this money and why did he give it to you?’ She snatched up the creds and stuffed them down her cleavage.
Kal couldn’t even imagine anyone dumb enough to try to steal her money from there. It’d be like sticking your hand in a bear trap. ‘That’s the best part about this party,’ said Kal, pushing that image out of his head. ‘It’s paid for by our good friend Cardinal Crimson.’
The other two just stared at Kal. ‘Near as I can figure, Crimson had paid Bitten to keep him quiet, and maybe for his part in setting up Francks for the assassin. Bitten had a change of heart and gave the money to Francks, but his past caught up with him in the end, anyway.’
‘What I can’t figure,’ said Scabbs, breaking his silence finally, ‘is why Francks trusted you with his deep, dark secrets about Crimson. You threw it all away, Kal. He gave me the journal and you just handed it over to Nemo. All those people died. Arliana died. And for what? So, the master spy could have dirt on Crimson?’
Kal let out a low whistle. ‘You’ve been holding that in for a while, haven’t you? I guess I owe you an explanation. Look, Francks told me I could only get Crimson from an angle, not head on. He even said I would die if I ever faced the Cardinal again.’
Kal ducked right before a bottle of Snake flew over his head and crashed into the wall behind him. He hardly missed a beat before continuing. ‘I didn’t think much of it at the time, but Francks could see things. I realised that down in the Hive Bottom. Plus he was easier to talk to than any Cawdor I ever met before. He was okay, and I wasn’t going to just ignore advice like that.’
‘So you gave his secrets to Nemo?’ said Scabbs again. ‘To Nemo of all people? What kind of a plan was that?’
Kal smiled. ‘A Kal Jerico plan,’ he said. ‘Nemo will use that information to slowly eat away at Crimson’s power base. He’s the only person in the Underhive powerful enough to hold that madman in check, and now he has the tools he needs to do it.’
‘Okay,’ said Scabbs. ‘Maybe.’
‘Plus, with the two of them feuding, neither one will have time to screw us over.’ Kal stopped talking for a moment and stared at the wall. After a moment, he took a quick swig of his Snake and got up. ‘I’ve got to leave soon. The debt collector for the Re-Engineers gang is on his way here again.’
‘The debt collectors are already here,’ said a gruff voice from across the room.
Kal looked up as two large, Van Saar ruffians pushed their way through the crowd to the table. They had no visible weapons but both of them looked like they could have given Gonth and Grak a run for their money in an arm wrestling contest.
‘The Re-Engineers would like their money now,’ said the one with the gruff voice. ‘And don’t tell us you ain’t got it, cause we saw that stash in your pocket. You can give it to us now or we can take it after we break your arms and legs.’
Kal shrugged and pulled out the credits. As he began counting, he realised two things. First, he hadn’t even got an image of them beating him to a pulp, let alone saw them coming before they spoke. Second, if these were the debt collectors the Van Saar gang had sent to collect for his guns, then he had no idea why that little guy had been hounding him.
After paying his debt, Kal dropped the empty envelope on the table and smiled.
‘You’re out of money, Kal,’ said Scabbs. ‘Why are you smiling? Did you get another vision?’
‘No,’ said Kal. ‘Well sort of. I was just thinking about this little gem that I kept in reserve in case Nemo doesn’t go after Crimson like I hoped.’
He pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it up. It was the wanted poster he’d found in Bitten’s hab. Tucked inside was a photo of Crimson shooting Guilder Tavis. ‘Bobo shot this pict in the dome. It’s from a vid of the entire battle. I wonder who might like to buy that vid and how much they would b
e willing to pay?’
All three of them laughed and Kal sat down again. He had not a care in the world beside getting drunk and celebrating his victory with his friends, his mastiff and perhaps a willing barmaid. Life was back to normal and he was perfectly content.
‘Mr Jerico?’
Kal looked up. It was the squirrelly guy in the silk suit. He’d forgotten about that vision – his last, apparently. ‘What?’ asked Kal. ‘What is it? Why have you been following me?’
‘I have a piece of mail for you,’ said the little man. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a single finger and smiled as he handed Kal a white envelope.
Kal took the envelope and turned it over and over in his hand. On the back was his name printed in ornate lettering with glittering, gold, ink. The front was sealed with red wax embossed with a strange signet design.
He looked at the messenger and then back at the envelope. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s an invitation to a wedding, Mr Jerico,’ he replied.
‘Really? But I don’t know anybody who’s getting married. Whose wedding is it?’ Kal said.
‘Yours, Mr Jerico,’ the messenger replied, deadpan.
In the back of Kal’s mind, he heard Jobe Francks laugh.
About The Author
Will McDermott is a fantasy and science fiction writer who has written three Necromunda novels for Black Library featuring the bounty hunter Kal Jerico: Cardinal Crimson, Lasgun Wedding and Blood Royal, co-written with Gordon Rennie. He lives and works in Bothell, Washington with his family.
A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION
Cardinal Crimson copyright © 2006, Games Workshop Ltd.
This eBook edition published in 2015 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd., Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK.
Cover illustration by Clint Langley.
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ISBN: 978-1-78251-936-2
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