03 - Death's Legacy

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03 - Death's Legacy Page 30

by Sandy Mitchell - (ebook by Undead)


  “Eminently practical advice,” Hollobach said dryly. He turned a scornful gaze on the pair of witch hunters. “Unless you’d rather waste precious time executing the trusted agents of one of the most influential men in the Empire on a whim? The consequences of that for your order would be… interesting.” The prospect seemed to amuse him. For some reason, Rudi suspected, the mage’s derision was the deciding factor for Gerhard.

  “We’ll settle this later,” the witch hunter said shortly, sheathing his sword. A moment later Mathilde followed suit, scowling.

  “Fine by me, but if anyone calls me a heretic again I’ll let my sword do the talking.” She nudged Fritz, who finally put his own blade away, with a truculent expression that suddenly reminded Rudi of the taciturn bully the young man used to be.

  “All right. What she said.” He glared at Gerhard. “And as soon as the daemon’s dead, you’re following it to hell.” He rubbed his arm absently where Mathilde had punched it. “Why did you do that?”

  “Don’t pick a fight unless you’re ordered to,” Mathilde said. “It’s not what we’re paid for.”

  “Your husband harboured a mutant, madam.” Gerhard had obviously noticed the matching rings the couple now wore. “That’s an act of heresy, pure and simple.”

  To his evident surprise, Mathilde laughed.

  “You’ve just described Fritz in a nutshell: pure and simple. He’d be the first to admit he’s not the sharpest arrow in the quiver; he just wanted to help his brother, that’s all.”

  “Besides,” Rudi put in, “you told me you killed Frau Katzenjammer in case the taint had spread, and it obviously didn’t. Fritz hasn’t mutated at all, has he?”

  “Damn right.” Mathilde nodded, grinning in a self-satisfied manner. “Believe me, I’d have noticed.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind,” the witch hunter said sourly, “but Rudi’s right. This is not the time to debate the matter.”

  “Fine. Then let’s get on with it before I drop dead and the daemon gets loose, shall we?” Rudi said, turning towards the panelled oak entrance door, still leaning on von Karien for support. Everyone fell in behind him, their minds finally back on the business at hand. Only Fritz continued to glower at Gerhard, clearly unwilling to let his personal vendetta go, and Rudi could hardly blame him for that.

  “Osric,” he said, “you know the way. Where’s this old lodge?”

  “Some way from the house, I’m afraid,” von Karien said, leading the way out into the snow-covered grounds. Away from the cluster of buildings the footing became treacherous, the snow ankle-deep, and Rudi stumbled frequently, grateful for his kinsman’s supporting arm. He breathed the cold air deeply into his lungs, revelling in the sense of openness and space after being so long surrounded by buildings and people. In the distance, beyond the wall, a flock of birds burst into flight, rising from the patch of woodland he’d noticed before.

  “Someone’s been this way ahead of us,” he said, noticing the faint indentations in the snow where later falls had settled in the prints left by other feet. There were several sets of tracks, apparently heading out in the direction they were following, and then returning towards the house. Von Karien nodded.

  “The abbot sent some of the ground staff out to open the cellars up for us. They’ve been sealed for a long time.”

  “That was a good idea,” Rudi said dryly, panting a little with the exertion of walking. “I’m not really up for swinging a pick myself.”

  “It’s not much further,” von Karien reassured him, as Rudi’s feet slithered on a patch of ice beneath the snow, and he stumbled, almost falling. The witch hunter pointed to a low mound in the blanket of whiteness, and squinting his eyes against the glare of reflected sunlight, Rudi was just able to make out the shrouded remains of tumbled walls, grey stone blackened by the traces of a long-dead fire.

  “I see your methods haven’t changed much in the last fifteen years,” he said to Gerhard, and Fritz’s expression darkened even more, if that was possible.

  “Simple, but effective,” Gerhard said.

  The ruins afforded some shelter from the wind at least, and Rudi leaned against a segment of wall, looking out over the grounds while he recovered his breath. The wind felt good against his face, ruffling his hair, and it occurred to him with a pang of regret that this would be the last time he’d ever experience the sensation of standing in the open air.

  “Where is the cellar?” Hollobach asked, glancing around the ruins.

  Von Karien pointed. “Over there.” He led the way towards a corner between two interior walls, reduced to about waist height. A mound of rubble, lightly dusted with fresh snow, stood in the angle of the tumbled partitions, and he bent down to brush a layer of white powder from a couple of planks covering a ragged hole in the floor. As Rudi turned his head to follow his progress, the westering sun struck shadows and highlights from the undulating blanket of snow smothering the gardens.

  “That’s a fair-sized hole,” Fritz commented. “Must have taken them quite a while.”

  “It looks like they had some help with it,” Rudi said, gesturing to the marks only he could see. “There’s another set of tracks coming in on the other side.” Part of him marvelled that he was still capable of holding a casual conversation, this close to a living death. The thought of what was to come, bricked up immobile in impenetrable darkness while his body rotted away around him, rose up suddenly in a paroxysm of suffocating panic, and he fought it away with an effort of will stronger than he would have believed possible. He’d made his choice, and he’d stick with it. He’d vowed to do whatever it took to frustrate his family’s twisted plans, and that was an end of the matter. In the meantime he’d take whatever pleasures life still had to offer, however small and fleeting they might be.

  “Estate workers, probably,” von Karien said. Before he could say any more a mound of snow on the far side of the wall erupted, revealing a snarling mass of muscle and hair.

  “Beastmen!” Rudi yelled, his astonishment giving way to the reflexive urge to defend himself. He reached for his sword instinctively, finding nothing there, and fell back against the crumbling brickwork, panting with the effort. Warned by his shout, von Karien ducked a vicious blow from a large-bladed axe, and drew his own weapon.

  “Defend yourselves!” Gerhard yelled unnecessarily, as more of the grotesque fusions of animal and man burst from their concealing cocoons of snow. Fritz and Mathilde moved back-to-back, while Hollobach muttered something. A moment later a scythe of glowing blue flame materialised in his hands, and he struck out at a howling creature with goat-like horns and a second, fang-filled mouth in the centre of its forehead. The creature came apart in the middle as the mystical weapon struck home, the crude club it wielded clattering to the rubble-strewn floor. “Protect Rudi!”

  His head spinning, Rudi tried to make sense of the ambush. The creature that had attacked Hollobach was undoubtedly dead, but there were four more of the things charging home against them, bloodlust shining in their misshapen eyes. The hulking bull-headed creature that had challenged von Karien closed in on the witch hunter, who parried its second strike skilfully, and opened up a slash across its belly with his sword as he riposted. Far from discouraging it, however, this only enraged the monster, and it struck out savagely again. Von Karien leapt back, barely avoiding its axe.

  Two of the others converged on Gerhard, who gave ground grimly, his blade flickering as it parried attack after attack, until Hollobach stepped in, his shimmering scythe taking the hand of one of the beastmen off at the wrist as it swung an ugly, spike-studded club at the witch hunter’s head. The ram-headed creature bleated in fury and turned on the mage, drawing a dagger from its belt as it did so, and flying at him, trying to strike under his guard. Hollobach stepped backwards to avoid it, slipping on the carpet of snow as his foot found an obstruction under the muffling blanket, and fell, his head striking one of the protruding pieces of rubble. The mystical weapon vanished, and the beastman hurdled the
body of the fallen mage to lunge at Mathilde, who deflected the clumsy thrust easily, and stabbed it through the heart. The creature fell, its knife dropping from nerveless fingers to skitter along the frozen ground.

  The fourth figure howled with glee as it leapt the wall and closed in on the woman, slashing down with talon-tipped fingers, and with a thrill of horror Rudi realised that this was no beastman after all, but the mutated form of Hans Katzenjammer. Mathilde ducked, just in time, and countered, her sword rebounding harmlessly from the ridge of bone along Hans’ forearm.

  “Rudi.” He turned, feeling a light touch on his shoulder. Hanna stood there, smiling, and for a moment, he felt all his old affection for her rushing back. The pressure of her hand increased a little, as she tried to urge him into motion. “Come with me. We don’t have much time.”

  “Time for what?” In the periphery of his vision, the battle continued. Blood fountained as the bull-headed monster struck von Karien in the arm, driving him to the ground, and the blood-stained axe rose to administer the coup de grace. Hollobach rose to his knees, his purple robes sodden and grubby, an expression of grim resolution on his face. Gerhard continued to engage the second beastman that had attacked him, but it moved like quicksilver, striking and slashing with the sword in its hand and the sting in the long, curving tail that rose up over its shoulder. Most of the creatures had mutations as well as the bestial appearance of their kind, Rudi realised, which probably wasn’t all that surprising given the allegiance they seemed to owe to the Lord of Change. Mathilde fell too, struck down by Hans. Bellowing with laughter, the mutant prepared to finish her.

  “We have to kill the daemon inside you,” Hanna said. Her arm slid around Rudi’s shoulders, supporting him, trying to lead him away. “Quickly, while the others keep these fools off our backs.”

  “You can’t,” Rudi said. “It’s too late.” His head reeled with the desire to help his friends, but he was too weak to move, and Hanna’s close physical proximity was as heady as it had always been.

  “Of course I can.” The strange stone she’d taken from the skaven was glowing again, Rudi realised, channelling her power as he’d seen it do before. Hanna glanced up, as if noticing something barely significant for the first time. “There’s just a little something I need to do first.”

  Before he could intervene or protest, a seething ball of hellish red flame burst into existence in front of her, and streaked through the air towards Gerhard. He saw it coming, and tried to move aside, but it burst against his right arm, searing the flesh, and burning through to the bone beneath. Screaming, the witch hunter fell, his sword dropping to the ground beside him, and rolled, steam hissing from the site of the wound. The beastman lunged down, striking with its sting, and Gerhard jerked, spasming as the venom it carried began to course through his veins.

  “Stop it!” Hanna shrieked, her face suddenly dissolving into a mask of petulant fury. “He’s mine!” The mutated beastman turned, an almost human expression of astonishment flickering across its muzzle, just before another ball of crimson fire burst against its chest. “I told you, he’s mine!” Turning away from the shrieking creature, whose fur was completely ablaze, she smiled at Rudi again, as if nothing untoward had happened at all. “No one ever listens,” she said, as if it was merely a minor annoyance.

  “I’m listening,” Rudi said. Hollobach was on his feet again, his lips moving, and the bull-headed creature froze in the act of bringing its axe down on von Karien’s prostrate form. The witch hunter rallied, striking upwards with his sword, and penetrating the creature’s chest. With a bellow of agony its eyes rolled upwards and it toppled slowly to the snow.

  “Leave her alone!” Fritz yelled, leaping in to stand between his wife and what had once been his brother. A viciously-taloned hand rose to swat him out of the way, and then a spark of recognition seemed to flicker in the trio of eyes, and a bellow of inhuman laughter echoed around the ruins.

  “Growing a backbone, Fritzie? Out of my way, or I’ll finish you too, as soon as I’ve done for your slut.”

  “I won’t let you hurt her!” Fritz took up a guard position, his sword steady. “My mother’s dead because of you! You’re not taking anyone else I love!”

  “Love?” the mutant laughed again, the harsh gutturals of his voice all but unintelligible. “You’ve never loved anyone. Poor little tag-along Fritzie, never had any friends, never did anything I wouldn’t do first. You were pathetic then, and you’re pathetic now.” The gigantic hand rose, swatting Fritz aside as if he was a fly.

  “As soon as I kill the daemon, you’ll be free,” Hanna said, dragging Rudi’s attention back to her. “Then we can be together for always, just like you want. I know that’s what you want.” She smiled, coquettishly. It should have been enticing, Rudi thought, but somehow the effect was grotesque, as if she was playing a part that she didn’t quite understand. “We can do this.” She kissed him, long and slow, and Rudi felt his senses reeling. “And more, much more.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rudi said, slumping against her. “I can’t move. I’m so weak.” He buckled at the knees.

  “Come on, hurry.” Hanna seemed to have forgotten her attempt to seduce him already. “I can help you.”

  “Thank you.” Rudi straightened, putting an arm around her shoulder for support. Von Karien was struggling to his feet, blood pouring from the gash in his arm, while Gerhard still lay prostrate on the ground next to the noisily expiring beastman that Hanna had struck down in a moment of anger.

  Hollobach was stumbling towards Hans, his lips moving in some arcane incantation, but his intervention was to prove unnecessary. Fritz dodged his brother’s blow at the last moment, and struck, aiming the point of his sword straight at the third eye in the middle of Hans’ forehead. The mutant’s neck snapped straight, with a howl of agony, and he fell to his knees, rancid ichor seeping from the wound.

  “You little…” the words died away in a rattling gasp, and an expression of petulant astonishment crossed his face. Powerful claws flexed against the frozen ground, trying to find a purchase. “I’ll kill…”

  “No. I will.” With a surge of anger-fuelled strength, Fritz thrust the blade in up to the hilt, the tip of it bursting from the back of his brother’s skull. The mutant’s arms flailed for a moment, trying to find a target, and then the light went out in his remaining eyes, and he toppled to the ground.

  “Some honeymoon this is turning out to be,” Mathilde grumbled, scrambling unsteadily to her feet. She kissed Fritz. “Thanks.”

  Leaning into Hanna for support, trying to ignore the intoxicating effect of the yielding warmth of her body against his, Rudi slipped the point of the dagger he’d plucked from the concealed sheath in her bodice through the thong supporting the skaven stone around the girl’s neck. He cut the cord in one swift movement, snatching the little leather bag with his other hand, and throwing it as far as he could. Hanna screamed with anger, rounding on him and pushing him to the ground.

  Rudi fell heavily, feeling the breath being driven from his body as he watched the girl sprinting after the talisman. He tried to rise, but the toxins in his system were doing their baleful work, their effects intensified by the physical exertion, and he couldn’t find the strength.

  “Stop her!” he shouted. “Don’t let her pick it up!”

  His warning was unnecessary. Perceiving the danger, perhaps through some arcane attunement to the magical world, Hollobach was already running towards the strange stone that the girl had carried for so long. Hanna was younger and fitter, however, making a desperate dive for it before the magister was anywhere within reach.

  “Sorry.” Mathilde tackled her, driving her to the ground, and the Amethyst mage bent down to pluck the little bag from the tips of her scrabbling fingers. “Stuff like that’s better left to proper wizards.”

  “I’ll kill you!” Hanna tried to throw Mathilde off, but the older woman was an experienced professional fighter, and held on to her easily.

  “Need a
hand, Rudi?” Fritz leaned down, proffering assistance. Rudi seized him gratefully by the wrist, and was pulled awkwardly to his feet.

  “Thanks,” he said. He glanced at the two wounded witch hunters. “You’d better help Osric and Gerhard.”

  “This one’s beyond help,” Fritz said, stepping over Gerhard with barely a glance. The animosity he clearly still felt for the man might have been affecting his judgement, but Rudi found it hard to disagree. Gerhard’s face was pale, and his breathing laboured. The witch hunter reached out to take Rudi by the ankle as he passed.

  “Hurry,” he breathed.

  “We will,” Rudi assured him. Fritz was binding up the gash in von Karien’s arm with a surprising degree of skill, but without much enthusiasm.

  “What is that thing anyway?” Mathilde asked, looking at the little leather pouch curiously, ignoring both the squirming and the stream of invective beneath her. Hollobach tipped the stone out into the palm of his hand.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he admitted at last.

  “I think it stores magic, somehow,” Rudi said. “It drained the energy away when Gerhard’s talisman prevented Hanna from casting spells, and she seems a lot more powerful when she’s got it with her.”

  “Of course.” Von Karien nodded. “That’s how she hoped to sacrifice the daemon, by drawing power from the stone. It wouldn’t have had the catastrophic effect polluting the temple in Altdorf would have done, but it would have tainted the ministry of all the souls who trained for the priesthood here.”

  “You know nothing,” Hanna said, scornfully. “You think you do, but you’re just insects. I’ll kill you all.”

  “You talk a good fight, I’ll say that for you,” Mathilde said cheerfully, hacking off a strip of Hanna’s skirt with her dagger, and expertly tying her hands with it. Hanna struggled to her feet, glaring at everyone in turn, her eyes finally coming to rest on Rudi.

  “You idiot,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “You could have had everything you wanted; a long life, free of that filth inside you, and me.”

 

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