Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles)

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by Unknown


  “You make too much noise”

  “I didn’t think you were here”

  “I don’t care what you think, Why are you here, be quick.”

  The blade nicked his throat, drawing blood. “Take it easy. I have orders for you”

  “Tell me “

  “You are to move north”

  “They do know winter is coming?”

  “You are to move to the edge of the Icelands . “He was on the point of turning his head when he remembered the knife. “You are to take no more than a week, afterwards come back and report”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Mahan, Ranger Mahan.”

  “How long have you been a ranger?”

  “I graduated from Holgun at the start of the year”

  “And your first mission is to the Icelands?”

  “Would you mind taking that blade away?”

  The blade was withdrawn. Chandos was medium height with a wiry frame . His face, burnt on the left, a scar began over his right eye and went to the hairline.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Not since dawn” .Chandos put the knife in his belt.. He clicked his tongue at the wolf who left.

  “Most of the game has been hunted out. It happens at this time of year when they restock for the winter. This year they have pushed further south and taken more food”

  “Why”

  “A good question. My guess is that they are up to something.”

  “Can you guess?”

  “I am not in the guessing business. Up here guessing can get you killed. You can guess down south”Stalking to the ruins he knelt drawing a series of cuts in the mud floor.. Replacing the weapon his fingers searched in the dirt until they brought up a length of chain. Standing he tugged on it and a square of floor rose to reveal a space underneath. He gestured to Mahan. The young ranger approached the hole. Enough light fell in to show the top of a ladder. He placed a foot on the top rung.

  The tunnel ran on a downslope . Coming to a blank wall footholds were cut in the sides. Climbing after Chandos they emerged on the edge of an escarpment, Further out a black cloud hung over the plain. Chandos pointed.

  “What do you see”

  “A cloud”

  Chandos grimaced.“ Im amazed you managed to get here.A cloud moving against the wind. We have to get under cover”

  “We can go back”

  “There is no food.”

  Chandos took them round an outcropping and stopped before a rock face. Dropping he pushed his weapons through a narrow opening and wriggled inside. The ground in front was bare rock.

  “Get in here”

  Mahan bent to the opening. “I can’t get through that “

  “You can if you want to live. Strip if you have to but get yourself in there. Either that or run for your life.”

  Mahan pushed his gear through and removed his jacket. Running around the woods after an uncouth fellow, pursued by Heaven knows what… There was much he could learn from the Watcher of the Northern Marches. Then it would be back to headquarters and promotion.

  He was halfway through when he got stuck. Modesty prevented the removal of his breeches, the belt of which was snagged on a root. Chandos had a torch, he leaned forward with a knife .

  “I won’t be taken on account a fool. I am about to cut the belt. When you are free, get in as if your life depends on it. Now be still.”Chandos hissed with annoyance. The belt had metal bands .

  “The belt won’t cut….Breathe out. Make yourself as small as you can. I am going to drag you. If this doesn’t work I’m leaving” The young ranger blew out until shadows danced before his eyes. He clenched every muscle and then relaxed. Chandos pulled until he felt his arms would break Mahan slid through, Chandos falling back. The sound of cawing came through the opening. Mahan slid through. Chandos started pushing sand against the opening. “Help me” They filled the space under the rock and sat back .Chandos looked at him.“ I would not have had a problem with Shardik.“

  “Shardik is dead.”

  “What happened”.

  “He was assassinated. Some were poisoned, some were shot. Others died of natural causes or what looked like natural causes. Twelve is hardly a loss to an group that operates as widely as we but the Free Company was never large.”

  “How did Shardik die?”

  “One morning he did not wake up. The Director brought in a specialist from the University. He thought they might have used a Dreamsender.. I was sent because we were shorthanded. I am an analyst, I read books… I knew Shardik. No one better with a weapon, which is why they came at him with Sorcery. There must be a traitor in the Rangers”

  “It is unthinkable”

  “It is the only explanation. The First Ranger wants you to conduct a full investigation. You are the only one she can trust”

  “Have you something for me?” Reaching inside his jerkin Mahan took a leather pouch. From this he extracted a capsule . Chandos pocketed it. “Where do you work?”

  “I was assistant secretary to the chamberlain. I am to work for the Spymaster at our embassy in Numidia. You will find great changes when you return. The new queen is energetic. She is popular with the people but powerful interests are forming against her. She has been trying to build alliances but except for Silverlode no one else is willing…The Reivers have promised not to invade their lands if they do not interfere when they attack. They believe the Reivers will honour their promises.”

  “What about the barons?”

  “They’re behaving themselves, for now. The Queen is popular and they have done well out of reconstruction.”

  Chandos handed the ranger a wooden bowl. It held a black liquid. Mahan looked doubtful.

  “I made it myself.”

  Mahan sipped and made a face.

  “Rumours?”

  “The city is awash with them. The Reivers are coming. They have crossed the Challon and are on the Plain of Jars. The Reivers are not coming; a secret peace treaty has been signed. There is a new weapon which will smash the enemy. A High Council took place. That was not a rumour”

  “Did you go?”

  “Me?” Mahan gave a short laugh “Heavens no. Only the nobles… Some of the women from the Sisterhood were there which is curious”

  “In what way?” Mahan took a blanket. “They are not senior enough. It seems that a new weapon might be more than rumour. It was invented by one of those curious people who came from the North. Terribly clever with potions and the like”

  “Does it work?”

  “Quite well it seems”.

  “Who else attended?”

  “Elmund Dwarfdale, the ambassador for Silverlode . A dwarf of wealth and influence. And their Queen. The head of the University attended .Morah was there and the Chamberlain. Our Queen was resplendent. There was scandal when she left and scandal when she returned. Not that anyone cares. They were utterly disenchanted with her stepmother.”

  Rising Chandos brushed dust from his troos. “Stay here and make no noise. “Mahan found a jar with a blend of cream and honey. It had an alcoholic bite and would help pass the time. He pulled a blanket from a pile and lay down.

  They remained hidden for two days while the ravens circled the hills . On the third day Chandos took a hunting bow and went to look for fresh meat. Mahan offered to go with him but was refused. “Have you met Hawkmoon?” Asked Chandos on his return. It was close to dusk

  “I met him once, after the coronation. He escorted the Queen. No one knows where he came from or anything about him. The tribes hold him in high regard. It is said that he led a Tuman for the Khan and is well liked in the Empire He is said to be our best hope. Personally, I don’t see it”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He has no formal training. No one knows his provenance so we may assume he has not come from quality. Several of the more important people are poorly disposed to him”

  “You have something for me?”

  Mahan took a wrapped par
cel and handed it over.

  “Has it been damaged in any way?”

  “No, I was not to open it. What is it, if I may enquire?”

  “You may not…”Are they in the city?”

  “The Queen is. Hawkmoon is away. They say about him that the only time you know where he is the moment he sticks a knife in your back.”

  He beckoned to Mahan. They moved into an overhang that widened to a longer passage. They walked in file, Chandos leading. It wound up, the only sounds, their feet scuffling through dry sand. When they came out it was night. They were back in the trees of the lower forest. Blacksmith’s Planet had risen casting a red glow on the clearing. Chandos turned with a long knife in his hand. “You have been very helpful, but we must have confirmation. We particularly want to know about Hawkmoon “

  “I don’t know where the damned fellow is, I told you. And who is “we”. Mahon whirled at a sound from behind. There were four armed men with others further back in the trees. He turned to find Chandos standing near him.

  “I will tell you nothing. I would die rather than speak”

  “I know that””

  The knife sliced across his throat. Mahan fell forward.Chandos caught him, lowering him to the ground. A hand reached for Mahan .Chandos slashed at it. He pointed the knife: “I will kill the next one that touches him”

  “We want the blood”

  “He was a Ranger and he will die as one.”

  “Those were not your orders”

  Chandos looked at the dying Ranger, eyes full of despair. “Bring the Shaman”

  He was scrawny, dressed in skins;the skull of a wolf on his head... Squatting by the corpse he drew a handful of leaf from a pouch on his belt. Chewing until it was a paste he swallowed. He began to chant, swaying from side to side. After a time his eyes rolled so that only the whites were visible. Nothing could be heard but his feral mutterings.

  Darkness cloaked the stars. Black vapour roiled above the wizard’s head as he called the summoning. Faces darted from the cloud. Mist rose from the forest floor. One of the guards got too close. It touched his foot. He screamed, falling backward. A human shape formed in the mist and stood before the sorcerer.

  “Why do you waken us, have we not suffered enough?”

  “A small matter, my dear. I will not detain you overlong. And then a tasty morsel”

  “Speak”

  The sorcerer pointed at the corpse “Take this, search its memories. Tell me what you learn. I wish to know everything this one knows .I am interested in hearing whatever he knows about the one known to them as Hawkmoon.”

  The demon looked down at the corpse as if seeing it for the first time. Smoke flowed from its talons reaching to the body. The smoke moved over the body, hovered for a moment and flowed inside. The corpse sat up. It began to speak... An acolyte stood close, making notes..

  After a time the demon withdrew to stand before the Shaman.

  “I did not give you permission to do that”

  “He has no more information”

  “That is for me to decide”

  “He knows nothing about the one you know as Hawkmoon”

  For the first time since the moment of summoning the demon looked at the ahaman who blanched, taking a step back…“Who is he? Where is he from?”

  “ He is the Deathwalker. He is known to us.. .”

  “He is only a man Why can we not find him?.”

  “We will answer no more. You have promised food. It would go badly if you disappoint us.”

  The Shaman pointed at the corpse “This you may feed on , it is…” He jerked at the touch of a blade against his neck.

  Chandos looked at the demon “There is a herd of deer below in the woods. You may have them.”

  The demon bowed, flowing into blackness.

  “I will kill you for that” The old man rubbed his throat.

  Chandos shrugged. “It would be a blessing to me but the Crimson Lord might not be pleased”

  When they left he returned to the hiding place under the cliff. He lit the torch and read the note.

  … Mahan has to die so that they trust you.He has a package for you . You are to take it to the First Aerie. Gain entry to the Vats and hide it .In the packet is a glass .Insert the vial. Push it hard enough to break the glass. From that moment you have five minutes to escape.

  Go to Shaleen’s Gate. The password will be the one we use for you.

  You must understand that this order was no easier for me to give than it will be for you to obey

  Morah.

  The Void.

  Hawkmoon let the axe blaze to light the long dark. They were in a broad space, a tunnel at the far side. The floor was hidden in mist. Shadows danced on the walls. Bekter’s foot was seized. He shouted as he fell, the mist covering him. Hawkmoon turned and pulled him backto his feet.. A mass of scaled forms gathered at the edges.. They hurled themselves forward in a mass, impeding each other in their hunger to get at those who had dared to come to the Halls of the Dead. They were smaller than men; black eyes; a long tooth in the centre of their mouths

  Hawkmoon shouted. “Stay beside me, don’t get separated.” Soulbiter had no weapons, nor did it need them. It slashed with the left claw, snatched the second in its jaws and gutted the third with its right. As they fell, they shrivelled. More rushed in. The demon blocked one side of the tunnel; Hawkmoon the other. Bekter stood behind, terrified..

  A spear flew at Hawkmoon. He batted it to one side, flashing the blades. Fighting fury took over. They ran at him to burst at the touch of the axe. He roared. “Ngidla” I have eaten.

  The demon uttered a guttural laugh. Time slowed; the press of hell fiends grew eyes feral with hunger…

  Bekter lashed down, striking his own foot... One had gotten above Hawkmoon, clinging to the ceiling with its talons. As it gathered to drop onto his back. Bekter ran at Hawkmoon and dragged him back ..He moved into his place striking with the Tulwar. They fell in swathes around him. He chased them from the tunnel, emerging in a broad chamber. An icy blast slowed him. He could hear them in the side tunnels. Silence fell, marred by the tread of heavy feet.

  An immense shape loomed out of the shadows. It walked upright whipping a long tail, armoured and tipped . Hawkmoon came out too late to shout a warning and Bekter was unprepared when it seized his mind, searching as though it were an empty house. It pried in rooms that had never been opened. It unlocked doors to rooms he never knew existed. It showed him endless hope and utter despair. All his memories were laid bare. His boyhood;the slavers that took his family... The day in the forest when he saw his wife. It spoke to him…

  Someone was slapping him. He opened his eyes. Hawkmoon was kneeling at his side ,hand raised. Soulbiter was standing behind. The guardian waited at the head of the bridge.

  Bekter caught his tunic. “ Hawkmoon, listen to me. This is something that cannot be defeated. It knows what you are about to do as you think it. You cannot stand against this and live.” Hawkmoon stared at the guardian. “Truly, my friend, I do not have a choice. This is a fight that has been a long time coming”. Hawkmoon crossed to the bridge where the Guardian stood barring the way. Wiping the blades he calmed his breathing.

  Soulbiter waited standing at Bekter’s side. Looking at his friend Hawkmoon at his friend saw the fear and the courage that held it in check. The demon would see his Bekter returned to the world. “If I fall, take the axe to the rangers.”

  They were expecting a nobleman, as finely decked as the ambassador. No one paid heed to the smelly little man begging scraps from the kitchen..Since no one spoke Chian it was decided he was a vagrant who, when he was fed, should be sent on his way. Chagatai was saddking a horse at the main gate as he was leaving. The little fellow was muttering. He stopped when the tribesman addressed him in his mother tongue.

  Paldor was deeply embarrassed and utterly apologetic. The best rooms were placed at his disposal. When the girls brought him breakfast he sent it back asking for a plate of boiled
rice with vegetables. He spurned the bed preferring to sleep curled up on the floor.

  If his time with Chagatai had been difficult the regime set by the little Chian was beyond endurance. No running in heat with full packs, no beatings with wooden swords, no endless classes while his body craved sleep; nevertheless he found himself wishing for oblivion. A flat roof had been set aside for the training. No one could see them but if they had they would see a small little man and a warrior, seated in meditative pose as the sun blazed for endless hours. At times the younger man would break into laughter, hysterical, and tinged with madness. On others he wept like a lost child. He learnt about the Void and how to survive the creatures that existed there . How to defeat them; how to avoid the ones that could not be defeated. His greatest lesson was fear.

  He showed the master what happened that day in the arena. One moment he was fighting for his life and losing. The next he was standing outside himself... It was the response of the body pushed beyond its limits. Most men died. A few reached for powers they had never suspected . It was temporary, enough to deal with the danger and get away. The master warned him. For a brief time he would be invincible. If it continued his body would fail and he would die.

  A javelin darted from its claw. To the onlookers it was a blur of motion. Hawkmoon lifted the blade, turning it to one side. It came forward, its tail sweeping to take his legs. He swung the axe. The tip parted in a welter of black gore. Hawkmoon stepped to his left, his foot close to a crack in the floor. He stepped over it so that he was straddling the fissure. As it came close it raised the spear. He made no attempt to block, instead he let it pass to plunge into the floor. For an instant it held the spear as if not understanding what had happened. As it hesitated the axe came up; the blade flashing through the its claw Hawkmoon advanced on the Guardian.

  Bekter shouted. “Hawkmoon be patient . Let it bleed.”

  Black gore poured from the severed wrist. It picked a heavy sword and leaped across the intervening space . He watched the demon as it moved through the space in a weird slow motion. The sword struck granite in a shower of sparks and shattered. It landed looking for its elusive foe. Pain lanced from both feet as Hawkmoon darted past slashing at the tendons. It collapsed on the floor, struggling to rise. Hawkmoon flashed the axe burying it in the demon’s chest.

 

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