Dead Man's Steel

by Luke Scull

  ‘What about the Unborn?’ Sasha gasped.

  ‘Who gives a shit,’ Jerek snarled. Kayne was of a mind to agree. He slammed the door shut and pulled the bolt across. He reached down to the pouch hanging on his belt, intending to retrieve some flint and tinder and light a candle, but Rana wriggled a finger and a glowing orb rose from her outstretched palm to illuminate the hall.

  ‘Thanks,’ he muttered. He frowned at the door as something slammed into it. ‘Ain’t never seen a demon like that before.’

  ‘Whatever realm the Nameless inhabits is home to as many nightmares as there were Pilgrims to dream them,’ said Isaac, his voice grim.

  The barracks were a mess. Beds were overturned and the bodies of young men were strewn all over the floor. Blood covered the mattresses, the sheets, the walls. It looked as though a demon had made it inside the building without anyone realizing and massacred everyone while they slept.

  The Wolf knelt down, frowned at a series of bloody prints on the wooden floor. ‘Blink demon,’ he growled.

  ‘What’s that?’ Cole asked.

  Kayne picked his way through the dormitory, stepping around disembowelled bodies, trying not to lose himself to despair. ‘Pray you don’t have to find out.’

  ‘Wait a damned minute,’ Cole exclaimed angrily, hands on his hips. ‘I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears kid!’

  ‘Could’ve fooled me,’ Jerek spat back. ‘You’re still full of shit.’

  Cole leaped across to the Wolf and pressed his forehead into Jerek’s bald scalp, chest puffed out, lips peeled back from his teeth. Jerek responded in kind, forcing his head forward, pushing Cole’s back. The youngster went for his dagger, his fingers closing around Magebane’s jewelled hilt.

  ‘Stop.’ The command in Isaac’s voice caused both men to pause. Jerek glowered, while Cole appeared suddenly uncertain. ‘This helps no one,’ the Fade officer continued. ‘I told Prince Obrahim that you would stand united. I do not care to report to him that one of you killed the other before we had even made it to the Devil’s Spine.’

  ‘That what you’re here for?’ Jerek grated. ‘To study us? To squeal to your prince and his prick of a brother? What you gonna do if we fail your test?’

  The Adjudicator turned away, busying himself examining bodies. ‘There is another ship crossing the Endless Ocean. It carries a Breaker of Worlds. You be will Reckoned.’

  ‘We’ll be what?’ Kayne asked, but Sasha was already reaching out to grasp the Fade’s arm, her face pale with shock.

  ‘You won’t,’ she hissed.

  ‘It is not my decision,’ said Isaac. ‘I have advocated for you. All I can do is help you slay the Herald, or at least ensure you do not destroy yourselves before then. I cannot lie to my prince. It is against the principles of our race.’

  The door shook again and Rana jumped. ‘I do not follow,’ she said slowly. ‘Reckoned? What does it mean?’

  ‘It means annihilation,’ said Sasha. ‘To reduce our cities and everyone within to ash.’

  A grim silence followed her pronouncement. ‘How much farther is it to the Devil’s Spine?’ Cole asked.

  ‘A few days’ march,’ Kayne replied. ‘Into the Borderland, and then passing the Lake of Mirrors. Never ventured much beyond that when I was a Warden. Don’t know many men who did.’

  ‘Perhaps we should wait for the Seeker,’ suggested Rana. The magical shield on her arm unravelled, ribbons of blue energy fading away as they fell to the blood-splattered floor.

  ‘We don’t know how long Ariel will require to complete the repairs,’ said Isaac. ‘I suggest we wait out the swarm, and then make our way east on foot.’

  ‘Fine with me,’ grunted Jerek. ‘Rather be marching through demon-infested wastelands than cooped up here with this prick.’ He glared at Cole, who returned the stare.

  Kayne sat down on one of the beds. It had once been Borun’s, he realized with a start. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since then. A lot of blood, too, including Borun’s own the final time they’d met in the Trine.

  Rana hovered for a moment and then sat beside him. ‘Back at Lake Dragur,’ she said. ‘I left you to die.’

  ‘Aye,’ Kayne replied. ‘I remember. You told me you were no healer.’

  ‘A lie. I didn’t want to mend your wounds.’

  He shrugged.

  Rana’s eyes met his. ‘I heard the stories they told about you, Sword of the North. The things you’d done. I thought the world was better served if men like you were allowed to die.’

  He looked down at the bed. Remembered Borun’s laughter.

  Remembered Borun’s head striking the ground and coming to rest against an outcrop of granite, his life’s blood dripping from Kayne’s greatsword.

  ‘Perhaps you were right,’ he said quietly.

  *

  They marched hard, moving ever east through the Borderland. The White Lady’s handmaiden rejoined the group just outside Watcher’s Keep, not uttering a word, merely falling in behind them. There was still no sign of Thanates.

  The morning after they set out from the ruined citadel, they came across a sight that made Kayne’s old heart ache. A line of dead Wardens snaked across the grass, their broken weapons scattered around. Opposite them, littering the ground in far greater numbers than the Wardens, were the corpses of demons. Hundreds of them.

  ‘They made a last stand here,’ said Rana. ‘When Orgrim ordered them to retreat and let the demons pass, these Wardens refused. They came here to die.’

  Kayne walked down the line, looking at the faces of the dead, trying to commit them to memory. They were all much younger than him. Some even younger than Magnar.

  Then let me go.

  His son had wished to fly north with the small party. He’d pleaded and begged and threatened until tears flowed from his eyes. He even demanded it as his right as king, though they both knew he had no authority. The Highlanders followed Carn Bloodfist and Brandwyn the Younger now.

  Magnar had pleaded and begged and threatened, but Kayne’s memory of the Seer’s final vision had hardened his resolve to stone.

  You sent the Broken King to his death.

  He wouldn’t let the southerner’s prophecy be fulfilled, not this time. He wouldn’t let his son end up like one of the corpses there on the grass, torn apart by demons, his flesh turning purple. So he’d asked Magnar a question he already knew the answer to; a question he knew would end the discussion right then.

  Can you still hold a sword?

  His son’s reaction had broken Kayne’s heart – but at least Magnar was safe back in camp. Not here in the Borderland, stuck in the middle of nowhere, on a suicide mission to kill a legendary demon.

  Davarus Cole was staring at the corpses. Sasha noticed him and gave a shake of her head.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Kayne asked, seeing the look that passed between them.

  ‘Do you remember the corpses that rose from the earth that night in Farrowgate? I think you called them strollers.’

  ‘Aye. They sometimes rise when there’s wild magic in the air.’

  ‘Yes. Well, Cole has picked up a few new talents in the last year. He carries the essence of the Reaver within him.’

  Kayne raised an eyebrow at that, but Cole was already gesturing at one of the bodies. Much to Kayne’s horror, it began to move, rigid limbs cracking as it pushed itself up off the ground. Kayne was on it in an instant, his greatsword stabbing down, skewering the skull. The corpse went still.

  ‘What was that for? I had it under control!’ protested Cole, but Kayne was already turning to him.

  ‘That ain’t no way to respect the dead,’ he snarled. ‘These men gave their lives to protect their homeland. They ain’t tools to be used as you like.’

  To his credit, Davarus Cole looked ashamed. ‘I thought they might come in handy if we run into any more demons,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Being capable of doing something don’t mean you should,’ Kayne replied. He softened h
is voice. The boy had only wanted to help, after all. ‘Sometimes the end don’t justify the means,’ he said gently, giving Cole a pat on the shoulder.

  The White Lady’s handmaiden watched them with dead eyes that nonetheless seemed to convey a certain amount of regret. Kayne noticed her staring. ‘Everything all right?’ he asked.

  The Unborn crossed her arms and stared east across the Boundary. ‘We should move,’ she said in her emotionless voice. It was the first time Kayne had heard the creature speak.

  ‘Are you there?’ Sasha asked curiously. ‘Are you her? The White Lady?’

  The handmaiden simply walked away.

  *

  The following day the small group arrived on the bank of the Lake of Mirrors. The edge of the lake was overgrown with thistly plants. Isaac stepped gracefully around them and gazed down at the glistening waters with eyes like volcanic glass. Kayne was a tall man, but he barely reached the Ancient’s chin. ‘My people once had an enclave to the north of here,’ Isaac said in his melodious voice. ‘None ever spoke of such a lake. I suspect it was formed during the cataclysm humanity refers to as the Godswar. Perhaps it still carries a divine essence within.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’ Davarus Cole’s tone seemed to suggest he had had some bad experiences with this kind of thing.

  Kayne frowned down at the water. ‘The veronyi – the wise men – they say that if you’re lucky, you can see your fate in the lake. I ain’t never seen a damn thing the few times I tried.’

  Isaac stared into the depths. ‘I see nothing at all,’ the Fade said. ‘Only emptiness. Perhaps its magic does not work for my kind.’

  Sasha stared into the water. It might’ve been Kayne’s imagination, but he thought he heard a clicking noise again. ‘I see... it looks like a city,’ she said, clearly confused. ‘At the bottom of the lake. It’s probably just my imagination. The lake is deep. Unbelievably deep.’

  Though the water was crystal clear, the bottom of the lake was not visible to Kayne’s eyes. Mind, my sight’s getting so bad I struggle to see my own manhood when I’m taking a piss. When I’m able to piss. All he saw was water.

  The Wolf scowled down. ‘Nothing,’ he growled. He spat, causing ripples in the lake that disturbed their reflections. Oddly, the Wolf’s lengthened while Kayne’s diminished.

  Davarus Cole was hanging back, a deep frown on his face. ‘I’m not going near it,’ he said.

  Rana peered into the lake. ‘It’s just water,’ she said. ‘If there were truly magic within, I would sense it.’

  Jerek gave a humourless smile. ‘Fuck me. First the boy pukes his guts up at the sight of a little blood and now he’s too scared to approach water in case he gets his dick wet. Best get a clean pair of trousers ready, Kayne. He’ll need them when we find this demon lord.’

  ‘Oh, piss off,’ hissed Cole. He inched towards the lake, as though certain something terrible would happen at any moment. He finally reached the edge and peeked into the water. Apparently seeing nothing untoward, he relaxed and gave Jerek a smug grin, spreading his arms wide. ‘You see? You think I’m scared of a little water? Let me tell you about the time I went to the Swell—’

  Behind Davarus Cole, the water suddenly exploded. As Kayne and the others watched, dumbstruck, a giant fist emerged from the lake and wrapped liquid fingers around the young assassin, whose expression switched from surprise to utter resignation in the blink of an eye.

  A moment later he was dragged into the water and pulled under, disappearing from sight.

  Sacrifice

  ✥

  HE THRASHED WILDLY, fighting desperately against the giant fingers dragging him down. The breath was squeezed from him, and he fought against the impulse to suck a mouthful of water into his lungs. The light began to fade as he was pulled deeper. He stared up with bulging eyes at the surface of the lake receding into the distance, knowing this was the end. He had pushed his luck as far as it would go.

  He thought of Sasha, wondered briefly if she would shed a tear for him. He thought of Jerek, saw that bastard’s sneering face and was filled with anger. The rage gave him renewed strength. He pushed at one of the giant watery fingers, but it was like trying to shove back against a wave.

  The dagger, child, boomed a familiar voice inside his skull. The fog in his air-deprived brain suddenly lifted and clarity filled him. He reached down to his belt, drew Magebane and with a monumental effort plunged it into the giant finger wrapped around his chest. A colossal shriek reverberated through the lake, and the grip loosened. Just enough for him to wriggle free.

  He stared up at the surface, his momentary elation instantly dulled by the impossible distance there was left to swim. Still he tried, driving himself up through the water, his lungs screaming. He was a killer and a whoreson and cursed with the worst fortune of any man alive – but if there was one thing Davarus Cole knew how to do, it was swim.

  Swim, and make love to beautiful women.

  And drink. There was no man who could outdrink him, that was a fact.

  I’ll drink this whole fucking lake, he thought maniacally, blinding flashes of colour exploding behind his skull. The rational part of his mind knew it would be fatal to open his mouth and swallow, and so he kept on kicking. Kept on fighting. Just like he’d fought his whole life.

  Memories of the Swell came back to him. He’d almost drowned then, twice. Almost, but not quite.

  He’d almost died that night in Dorminia, when his mentor had plunged a poison-coated dagger into his stomach. That hadn’t killed him either.

  Corvac and his men had tried to break Cole in the Blight. Violated him and called him their bitch. And in the end, he’d killed them all.

  He was halfway to the surface now. The agony was excruciating. Every second seemed to last a lifetime. He must surely breathe in water at any moment. Take in a lungful of the lake and sink like a turd to the bottom where he belonged. Where the world seemed to think he belonged. Always under the heel.

  Fuck you, he thought wildly. I’m Davarus Cole. I’m no one’s joke.

  And so he fought on, every muscle screaming. The window of light above grew larger, but within Cole the darkness expanded. He was no longer sure if his legs still kicked. He hardly cared now. Everything seemed so distant. His eyes closed, or maybe he just stopped seeing. Finally he could resist no longer. His mouth burst open and he inhaled, a mighty gulp.

  He became vaguely aware that he was lying on his back. Someone was pumping his chest. Water vomited out of his mouth, no end to it, rushing up his throat and bursting from him in great splashes.

  How did that get there, he wondered. He couldn’t remember swallowing any water.

  ‘How long was he under?’ someone asked, her voice shrill with panic. Sasha, he realized.

  ‘Three, maybe four minutes. I ain’t ever seen anything like it. Thought he must be a goner for sure.’

  Cole opened his eyes and stared up into the bearded face of Brodar Kayne: scarred, world-weary and at that moment the most welcome sight imaginable. ‘Welcome back, lad,’ said the old barbarian. ‘That was a close thing and no mistake.’

  ‘You was babbling all kinds of shit,’ said a gruff voice behind Kayne. Jerek appeared, his dark eyes fixed on Cole. ‘Telling the world to go fuck itself.’ He almost sounded approving.

  Cole felt a cool hand squeeze his arm. He turned to see Sasha kneeling beside him, tears bright in her eyes. ‘I thought we’d lost you,’ she said, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. That small gesture filled him with strength. He sat up and took a shuddering breath.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked.

  Isaac frowned at the lake. ‘I believe you disturbed the resting place of a divine entity. There were thirteen Primes, but dozens of lesser gods. Given the nature of this lake, perhaps it was Oma, Lord of Foresight.’

  ‘Don’t ask me how but you made it back to the surface,’ Kayne added. ‘I pulled you out just in time.’

  ‘Why did it attack me?’ Cole aske
d, but deep down he knew. He was targeted because of the godly essence residing within him. Magebane lay beside him, gleaming wetly. His salvation and his curse.

  ‘You certainly got a habit of finding yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ said Brodar Kayne brightly. The old barbarian reached out a grizzled hand and pulled Cole to his feet. ‘We best be moving on,’ he said. ‘Before this dead god gets any more ideas.’

  ‘I’ll catch up,’ said Cole. ‘Give me a moment.’

  Sasha hung back, intending to wait for him, but he gestured at her to join the others. He approached the lake, stared down into the depths.

  He reached down, carefully undid his breeches. ‘Oma, is it? Thanks for the exercise. I needed that. Here’s a little something for you.’

  He pulled out his cock and took the most satisfying piss of his life.

  *

  The following day they reached the outskirts of the Devil’s Spine. They encountered no more demons, although the rotting corpses of wolves and bears and other animals that had made their homes in the mountains were strewn throughout the rising foothills. Some bore wounds inflicted by demons, obviously the cause of their deaths. Others showed signs of starvation. The land was silent and oppressed, the birdsong notable for its absence.

  Davarus Cole stared up at the monstrous peaks in the distance and felt his heart sink. ‘We have to climb those?’ he said in frustration. ‘Maybe we should have waited for the Seeker.’

  Brodar Kayne came to stand beside Cole. He seemed to be limping a little but was making an effort to disguise it.

  Cole heard the old warrior’s heart thumping in his chest and felt guilty for complaining. ‘I could use a rest,’ he announced, more for Kayne’s benefit than his own. He was, after all, thirty years the man’s junior.

  Kayne bent down and rubbed his knees. ‘Getting stiff in my old age,’ he grumbled.

  ‘Old age,’ echoed Isaac. The Fade stared up at the Devil’s Spine. ‘My kind will never know the curse of growing old. I fear there are those among us who sometimes forget what you must suffer.’