by Toby Bennett
What they could not imagine was already watching them from the shadows of the ruined columns, which bounded the ancient structure. The body of one of the Ash-man guards lay at her feet, already concealed in the silt and slime that would be his resting place. Ironically, this ragged guild man would come closer to lying in Takiaza’s tomb than Niskar’s third Hierophant had ever done. The Ash-man was only the first of her victims that cycle and before the cycle was done, she would end both men’s lives, as they knew them, forever.
Slick steps lead down into the depths of the tomb, Roga took each step gingerly and kept a hand on the wall, Akna took the steps two at a time despite the perilous footing.
“We need to be in and out before the tide,” Akna said impatiently from the bottom.
“And we’ll take a hell of a lot longer if one of us breaks a leg!” Roga snapped back.“Is the way clear down there?”
Akna raised his lantern and considered the dripping passage ahead of him before he answered the Ash-man’s question.
“There was a door here once, that looks long rotted through, there’s some silt piled up against it but the corridor beyond that looks clear.”
“Good, just wait there, I’m nearly down.”
“I’m quite content to abide by the agreement, you needn’t worry about missing out on anything.”
“Then you won’t mind waiting there.”
Akna made no response to the implied distrust, it was only natural for Roga to be nervous, he would probably be out to snatch any advantage for himself. Why wouldn’t he expect the same from another guild’s man? Particularly when they did not actually share a guild. Roga couldn’t understand that Akna was simply indifferent to what they found in the dark; he was here because Zenker said so and he had become used to doing what Zenker said. The light of Akna’s lantern glinted from the damp walls and caused them to come alive, as a thousand tiny creatures scuttled away from the unfamiliar light and into the safety of the few shrinking pools of water that dotted the uneven stone floor. A golden statue of some aquatic daemon had tumbled from its broken pedestal and lay half-buried in the silt that had built up against the door. The creature's golden net seemed filled with many strange creatures, which it proffered to whoever might pass it by. Despite its apparently appropriate surroundings, the statue makers had never meant their piscine creation to be seen coated in lake sand and slime; a closer look showed that none of the bizarre creatures caught in its golden net had ever swum in any of the waters of the waking world.
Roga scooped up the statue almost as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Next one’s yours,” he assured Akna, as he thrust the thing into his sack.
“As you say. Personally I would have left it to retrieve on the way out, gold can get heavy very quickly.”
“What, leave it on the doorstep for anyone to find? You have too much faith in the louts we’ve got out there, either they’ll let someone through or they’ll take it and say they did. Unless you don’t think it’s worth having?” Roga said now worried that he’d made a bad decision by taking his pick first. “You’re here as the expert.
“A good piece I’m sure, the weight was my only concern.”
“May the gods grant that the weight of gold is something I always have to worry about. Now what do you think our first move should be?”
“If the tomb was built along conventional lines, there should be a main chamber at the heart of the complex; if you want more baubles of the sort we just found, that is where we should head.”
A gleam crept into Roga’s eye.
“Then we just have to walk to the middle of this place and load up? Sounds easy enough to me, maybe we should have brought some of the boys, so we could have carried more.”
Akna shook his head, not bothering to hide his contempt for the suggestion.
“That was precisely the point of the central chamber, as a distraction for thieves. Whatever you find there will be bulky, ostentatious and ultimately, worth far less than the real treasures to be found here.”
“I’m not fond of the term 'thief', master Akna.”
“Why not? It’s what we are.”
“You may speak for yourself in that, I see no one with any claim on what we might find here. Even the dead man, who was meant to be buried here never showed up, according to you.”
“There are dead people enough; his servants would have been butchered and brought here already, with their master’s death so near. It was also not unknown for one of a set of infant twins to be buried alive with a priest of Takiaza’s stature. The theory was that the ghost of the priest could use the link between the dead infant and their sibling to issue instructions in the realm of the living. Good for the twin left behind, they got treated like the Hierophant himself.”
“So there are dead people here. Do you think I will be frightened like a child? Or do you think I care what was done to some fools centuries ago?”
“Of course you don’t, because you are a thief and hardened to such things. It was you who rejected the title.”
Roga took a deep breath.
“Enough. We get nowhere and time is short. If you think that the central chamber is worthless, then where should we go?”
“I did not say it would be worthless. From all accounts the flood was quick and thieves would have had no time to loot the tomb. There would definitely be some treasures in the centre, if the thieves felt empty handed they would search elsewhere in the tomb for treasure and that would defeat the purpose of the false treasure room. I stated that the value of the false trove would be significantly less than the prizes to be found in the true burial chamber.”
“And where might that be?” Roga asked in exasperated voice. He stepped over the piled silt and looked at Akna expectantly, his mood souring and his feet already numbed by the cold water leaching heat through the leather of his boots.
“The true burial chamber would be hidden, so it might be anywhere but there will probably be certain signs that the initiated could read that will lead me to it.”
“Probably?”
“As you say the place is very old and little more than a legend now.”
“So we could waste all the time before the tide comes back in searching for signs which may or may not be there or we could simply go to the middle and load our bags with treasure.”
“You have it exact.”
“Then if that is all you can offer, might I suggest that we split up? You look for this hidden room and I’ll gather what I can from the central room.”
“And we share what we find when we get out?”
Roga paused for a moment and considered the proposition, he’d been dubious about including Alanchi’s man in the first place, he’d much rather have had a few trusted men with strong backs but it was just possible that Akna would find the secret trove and Roga did not want to miss out on that.
“Alright, but if you don’t find anything, you get back to me the moment the water starts to come in again and help me carry what I’ll have piled up. You can at least help to lift your share.”
Anka nodded in agreement, it was the response that he and Zenker had hoped for; Alanchi had been adamant that they not risk their share of the treasure in the main chamber but Zenker and Akna had been far more interested in the secret trove. Of course, the Ash-man would steal the best for himself but they would certainly get something and with a bit of luck, Akna would gain access to the real prize. If he did, he would be sure to take the most precious things before sharing what he had found with Roga. It was no more than the Ash-man planned to do to him, both of them were thieves, just as he had said.
The way to the central chamber was broad and easy to follow. Daemon heads and strange figures stared at them from the glistening walls. The place had dried enough that there was also a musty rotten smell pervading the whole place.
“Just because it’s a tomb, does it have to smell like something died in here?” Roga joked but he might as well have been talking to
the carved stone or the crustaceans that scurried away in packs before them. Akna was already scanning the walls and floor for signs but he could not see any meaning in the archaic carvings. Before long they stood before the central chamber’s door. It was a testament to its craftsmanship that it still stood but the thick timbers were clearly rotten and sagging. A few hefty kicks reduced the barrier to fragments and the two grave robbers found themselves standing in a vast chamber.
Even after centuries the tomb's main vault had the power to impress. It was here that the final ceremonies would have been performed over the Hierophant’s body before it was hidden in his real resting place. No expense had been spared to ensure that the select group, who would be allowed to see this final interaction between the head of the church and the world of the living, were awed and impressed by the power and wealth that Takiaza had had at his disposal. Dragons seemed to arch into the ceiling, emerging from the stone as if they had been frozen in mid-flight, they seemed so lifelike that, for a second, the observer was forced to wonder if they were stone at all and whether they might release the great weight of the arching roof at any moment.
Below the sinuous, serpentine forms, silver winked in the lights that the two men in the doorway lifted as high as they could in a vain attempt to illuminate even half of the great chamber. The silver that ran through the channels, which had been cut into the floor, was not, in fact, silver at all but mercury, too heavy to have been shifted even by the flooding, the liquid metal continued to flow through the ornate patterns that made up the chamber floor. Raised platforms lined the route from the main doors to the central dais, where the shape of a sarcophagus was just discernible at the edge of the light. A burnished warrior of fanciful design stood on each platform, their skin’s were of various rare metals and their scant clothing and weapons were studded with precious stones, their magnificence was only partly diminished by the drying algae and weeds, clinging to their once flawless bodies.
Roga put his lips together, to whistle in appreciation at the sight but the sound that reached his ears was far more shrill and sharp than any human being could make. Metal squealed in protest as the statues shuddered into life; most were in too bad a state of repair to do more than turn their heads or lift an arm but a few of them managed to shamble off their pedestals and lurch towards the doorway. The poor response time of rusted joints meant that most of those who made the leap to the floor of the chamber simply fell and didn’t get up but the three living statues that did manage to stumble across the chamber, their weapons held high, were enough to make Roga yelp and jump back out of the doorway.
“What in Niskaar’s name are those things?” Roga yelled to his companion, as he joined him on the other side of the wall.
“The golem makers of Harport have obviously been practising their craft for a very long time.”
“Well, you’re the expert how are we going to get in there now?”
“From the sounds of it they might fall apart on their own.”
“Not before the bloody tide comes back in and not soon enough for my liking.” The Ash-man shouted, as a jewelled gauntlet smashed through the rotten wood of the door. “Is there no way to disable them? The man couldn’t have been buried here if his statues were trying to kill the mourners.”
“I said he wasn’t going to be buried here.” Akna ducked a relatively slow cut from the first golem through the door that left a large gouge in the wet stone. The blow didn’t do much for the edge of the oversized scimitar his opponent was wielding but that hardly mattered, since the force behind it would have easily been enough to crush his skull.
The golem raised its arm for another strike, but its target had already moved out of reach. The golem righted itself and plodded determinedly after the fleeing thieves.
“The priests would have had some word that made the room safe to enter.”
“Well it’s a pitty we didn’t bring one along to ask what it was.”
“You asked.”
“I don’t know who’s worse you or them,” Roga spat back. “You have worked out that we are going to die?”
“I don’t think they can move all that fast.”
“Even so, nothing I’ve ever heard about golems talked about them quitting, we get tired they don’t.”
“They’ve got a treasure to protect remember.”
“And you said it wasn’t the real treasure, what if the plan was simply to get the thieves. I remember the story of a golem that chased a man for over a year on its master’s orders. Found him in the jakes the tale goes.”
There was a groan and a crash as the lead golem toppled over, into the slime of the passage floor. It made several concerted attempts to raise itself before slumping into a bubbling pile in the middle of the corridor. Akna and Roga stopped and looked back at the approaching golems and then each other.
“I don’t think they’ve got years left in them,” Akna said.
“No? A few hours could see this place flooded again. We need to dispose of them now.”
“They’ll be impervious to weapons, but if we hit them hard enough at the knee, they would probably fall. If the other one is anything to go by they would stay down.”
“And if they do get up?”
“Then we’ll have to hope we are faster.”
“That’s your expert opinion?”
“It’s the only opinion I have at the moment.”
Roga opened his mouth to reply but he found himself speaking to the lantern that Akna left behind before launching himself at the foremost of the decrepit golems. An axe blade parted the air less than an inch above Akna’s head, as he ducked and focused all his momentum onto his attacker's left knee joint. The fatigued metal groaned and the golem lost its footing in the viscous slime beneath its feet. There was no time for the golem to follow through with another blow but now the bulk of the creature became a problem in itself. Akna felt the weight above him begin to shift and knew that he had to extricate himself quickly, if he did not he would be lucky to be trapped and not severely injured, quick work for the second golem, which was even now approaching spear in hand.
Air burst from Anka’s lungs, as he threw himself between the collapsing giant’s legs and hit the ground hard. His momentum sent him sliding over the slick stones towards the second golem but he made no attempt to slow himself, lest he fail to get clear of the wrecked golem behind him. He was dimly aware that Roga had begun his own charge but he couldn’t rely on the heavier man intervening in time. The spear point would be harder to avoid than the axe, the lamplight was dim this far into the corridor and without his feet under him, Akna would have to rely on rolling at just the right moment. The spear went up at the same time as Akna heard the final crash of the golem falling behind him, but the weapon was not aimed at him.
The golem thrust the jewelled spear at the approaching Ash-man, drawing blood from his shoulder, as he leapt to the side at the last second. Roga had his heavy short sword in his hand but as Akna had warned him there seemed nowhere on the metal body that he could credibly strike. Out of the corner of his eye, Roga saw his partner slide to a halt and get his feet under him and his jaw tightened. He might not have been able to replicate Akna’s acrobatic attack but he was damned if he was going to be shown up. He parried the spear with a stroke, that set his hand aching at the impact and dived forward, driving his blade into the seam behind the archaic automaton’s knee. Precious metal gave and the blade squealed as it thrust into the rusty gears beneath the golden skin.
The golem gave a groan and began to teeter but it righted itself with the butt of its spear and reached down to grasp Roga by his wounded shoulder. Pain exploded through him, metal fingers pierced his flesh and he felt the bones grinding together. For the first time in his life, the big Ash-man was lifted as if he weighed nothing and raised high into the air. Roga had been in enough fights with smaller men to know what came next and he doubted he would be able to get up, once the metal titan brought him down. Roga’s world spun and the distan
t lights, lying on the floor further down the passage, made the strange carvings seem stark and carved from deep shadows; all at once the twisting shapes and beautiful daemons seemed to be watching, waiting for him to fall. The Ash-man cried out and looked about for his companion to help him but to his horror Akna was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter 9:
“The restless dead are in the ground and all but dreams have flown,
Those that bled are now unbound from the weight of flesh and bone.”
Akna slipped behind the golem, before flinging himself at the spear it was using to prop itself up. It didn’t take much force to get the spear moving and once it was, the golem had little chance of righting itself. The last golem went down in a heap of tortured metal, its collapse punctuated by the sound of Roga’s surprised yelp. Fortunately for Roga, he was thrown clear of the golem, when it tried to break its fall with its arms. The golem showed no signs of lying still like its fellows; only the damage that it had sustained to one of its arms in the fall, prevented the golem from going after its discarded victim. As it was, it simply thrashed violently for several minutes, before exhausting whatever arcane energies had sustained it.