by Warhammer
Seeing the opportunity, Felix lunged forward. His blade took the orc in the side, finding its way beneath the ribs and passing right through the stomach. Felix withdrew it, and threw himself back as the orc, striking like a dying scorpion, lashed out at him reflexively. In that fatal moment of distraction, the elf’s blade took him through the eye and he slumped to the earth, dead before he hit the ground.
‘That was not very sporting, Felix Jaeger,’ said Teclis.
‘This is not a game,’ said Felix angrily, annoyed by the elf’s insouciance. ‘You can die here the same as anybody else.’
‘Is that not part of the thrill of the thing?’ said Teclis dangerously. Felix wondered if his ennui could really be that great.
‘And who will save Ulthuan if you fall here?’ said Felix, turning to enter the battle once more. Even as he did so, he saw the dark cloaked figure had raised his hand. A wave of magical power flowed towards Felix. For a brief moment, he thought he saw the folk around him transformed into daemons. All around he heard the men of Crannog Mere gasp in terror. The irrational urge to turn and flee filled him and he could see the others waver. Looks of horror were on their faces as if they had just seen their worst nightmares materialise in front of them.
The amulet on Felix’s chest glowed and a warmth spread through him, dispelling the fear. He heard a cold chill laugh and realised that it had come from the elf. The sound of that dry mirth was more chilling in its way than even the vision of his manifold fear.
‘Try your simple sorceries on me would you, man of Albion? I return them to you, redoubled and redoubled again.’ The elf spoke a spell and the dark-cloaked figure emitted a high-pitched shriek of pure fear before clutching his chest and collapsing to the ground. The men of Albion steadied and fought on.
Gotrek had chased his orc until it was backed against the wall. His axe flashed once and the creature’s chest caved in, entrails exploding everywhere from the force of the impact. Felix looked around to see how the men of Albion were doing. Culum finally saw an opening and aimed his hammer squarely at the beast’s head. The force of the impact took the head clean from the shoulders, caving in one side and sending it flying through the air to hit the ground rolling like a ball. It landed at Felix’s feet, almost as if the big man had intended it that way, and looked up at him with fierce hatred in the dying light of its eyes.
The other tribesmen had managed to surround the last two orcs and harried them like hounds pulling down a stag. Spears flickered forward, fast as the tongues of snakes, and pierced green flesh. Bleeding and gored from a dozen wounds, the orcs finally went down. They had taken their share of men to hell with them, though, thought Felix. Only half a dozen of the men of Crannog Mere were left.
Gotrek headed towards the opening from which the sounds of fighting had come. Felix followed him into the final caves.
There were goblins in here, and dead orcs and more dead women. A few of the amazons still stood, battling a scuttling horde of bow-legged goblins. Beyond them was a white-shrouded figure that the women seemed willing to give their lives to protect. Felix raced forward, overtaking the Slayer, and leapt the last few strides that separated him from the goblins.
Wielding his blade with both hands, he hewed about him, taking many of the little monsters before they even knew he was upon them. Their death screams panicked their comrades and they turned frantically to face the new threat, giving the women time to hustle their charge back out of range of the combat.
Excellent, thought Felix, alone against a horde of greenskins. This is where chivalry gets you. He continued to fight though, back-pedalling desperately, knowing that the Slayer could not be too far away. Nor was he disappointed. Within heartbeats, a massive axe flashed past his shoulder and chopped a howling goblin clean in two. Then Gotrek was moving through them like a whirlwind of destruction. Nothing lived that fell within the arc of his blade. His blows smashed through shields, made parries futile for the small creatures. They could no more withstand the Slayer than Felix could have withstood the charge of a bull.
Moments later the men of Albion arrived and the slaughter was complete. That’s that, thought Felix, glancing back at the scene of the carnage. He turned around to find himself facing a row of spears, all aimed at his chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The women were armed with spears and small leather shields. They did not look friendly. Felix wondered why they pointed their spears at him so menacingly. Had he not helped save them? Had he not killed orcs? He kept very still anyway. Mistakes get made. Misunderstandings can easily be fatal when there are weapons involved.
‘This is sacred ground,’ said one of the women. She was almost as tall as Felix and her hair was tied into many locks. Tattoos covered her face and arms and gave her a wild barbaric look.
‘I’m sorry – next time I will respect your taboos, and let the orcs slaughter you on your sacred ground.’ He could not quite keep the bitterness from his voice. The woman looked as if she was going to attack him. Felix prepared himself to spring clear.
‘Be at peace, Siobhain,’ said a quavering voice. ‘He is a stranger here and he helped save all of our lives. He is entitled to be here.’
‘But he is not of our blood,’ said Siobhain. ‘Any fool can see that…’
Her mouth sprang shut like a steel trap as if she had just realised what she had said. A flush, visible even in the dim light, passed beneath her facial tattoos. A moment later Felix understood why. The old woman to whom she had been talking had eyes of milky white. She was quite obviously blind. The girl gave Felix a glare as if it was all somehow his fault. Felix shrugged.
‘You are Felix Jaeger,’ said the old woman. Felix kept his own mouth closed with effort. How could she have known his name? Carrier pigeon, a messenger slipped away from Crannog Mere in the dead of night, lots of different ways, the rational part of his mind whispered, but he knew it was wrong. There was magic involved. This old woman was quite plainly a witch of some sort. ‘Well met,’ said the old woman, her fingers moving through an intricate gesture that might have been part of a spell or a benediction. Felix flinched but nothing happened.
‘Well met,’ he said back, bowing with as much grace as he could muster. It seemed somehow the right thing to do. He sensed the old woman’s attention sliding away from him and took the opportunity to study her. She was a tall woman, sharp faced, but still beautiful. Her robes were of thick grey wool. Her braids were even more complex than Siobhain’s. There were tattoos on her face too, but they had faded to near invisibility, like markings on parchment that has been left too long in the sun. How could that have happened, Felix wondered?
‘You are welcome here too, Teclis of Ulthuan. You are the first of your kind to set foot in this place for millennia.’
The elf’s voice was sardonic. ‘As far as I know I am the first of my kind ever to set foot in this place, Oracle.’
‘Then you do not know everything,’ said the old woman. Her voice had a sharp, brittle quality now. Felix guessed she was used to being treated with more respect. Certainly the tribesmen seemed in awe of her. The expressions on their faces said as much.
‘I have been aware of that for more centuries than you have lived,’ said Teclis. His own tone was just as sharp. The gods preserve us from the vanity of wizards, thought Felix. A strange smile passed across the old woman’s face, almost as if she knew what he was thinking. Gotrek grunted at the elf’s words and strode forward.
‘I am Gotrek, son of Gurni,’ he said, not giving the old woman time to name him. ‘Who are you?’
The maiden-guard and the tribesmen bristled at his tone. Hands stiffened on weapons. Gotrek looked supremely unconcerned by the prospect of imminent violence. Felix wished he could share the dwarf’s attitude.
‘You too are welcome, Slayer.’ If Gotrek wondered how she knew what he was, no sign of it appeared on his face. ‘I gave up my name when I took the title Oracle.’
The Slayer shrugged. He even managed to make that
action somehow menacing. Felix wondered if they had really come all this way just to get into a fight with the people who should have been their allies. Something needed to be done and quickly.
‘How did those orcs get here?’ he asked. ‘This is not the sort of place you just stumble on.’
‘They were led here,’ said the Oracle.
‘Led!’ said Murdo. He sounded shocked.
‘Aye, Murdo Mac Baldoch, led.’
‘What man of the tribes would have led them here? Surely no one could so turn their face from the light?’
‘It was more than a man of the tribes, Murdo. It was one of the Council. Siobhain, make yourself useful! You and Mariadh bring the body of the dark-cloaked stranger to us.’
There was silence until the two warrior-maidens returned bearing the body of the sorcerer. The Oracle moved over to it and pulled back the cowl to reveal a lean, pale, tattooed face. The man’s features were distorted by terror even in death. Spittle was still on his lips. It looked like he had died of pure fright.
Murdo’s face went white. ‘Baldurach!’ he said. There was both fear and disbelief in his tone. The old man’s shoulders slumped and he studied the floor at his feet. ‘We are betrayed then, and by one of our own,’ he said very softly.
‘Some there are who listen to the whispers of the Dark Spirit,’ said the Oracle.
‘This is not the place to talk of this,’ Murdo said, glancing significantly at the three companions. His glance even seemed to take in his own kin, although Felix thought this might have been his own imagination.
‘If not here, where?’ said the Oracle. ‘These three must hear what is said here. Send the others away.’ She gestured to her guardians and they began to herd the men out. The Oracle turned and walked deeper into the caves. She did so easily and gracefully, with no hint of the fact that she was blind. Felix felt the hairs stir on the nape of his neck. There are other senses than sight, he told himself. Or perhaps she has simply walked these halls so long she has all the obstructions memorised. Once again something told him that this was not the case.
Gotrek and Teclis fell into step behind her. The elf’s magelight dimmed somewhat but still gave enough illumination to see by. Murdo looked at him with what might have been fear, respect or awe and gestured for Felix to proceed. Felix followed them down into the gloom. The old man’s heavy tread told him Murdo was right behind him.
This chamber was smaller. The walls were carved with more abstract patterns that seemed to map some cosmic maze. In the centre was a massive, perfect stone egg, on which was inscribed similar patterns. Just looking at them made Felix feel slightly dizzy. On the top of the stone egg was a dimple in which something lay.
‘Are you sure you want these strangers here?’ asked Murdo.
‘They are part of this,’ said the Oracle. She sat cross-legged in the shadow of the egg and gestured for them to sit likewise. Felix and Teclis joined her. Gotrek lounged against the wall, his axe held nonchalantly in both hands. Murdo glared at him and then he, too, sat.
‘What?’
‘Dark shadows gather, Murdo. Things long imprisoned will be free. Some of our brothers and sisters have turned from the truth and the light and now serve that which we sought to contain. The ancient brotherhood is broken. A time of schism and chaos is come.’
‘Impossible!’
‘No, Murdo, not at all. We are mere mortals and it is undying. We are fallible and corruptible. Some have fallen. As was predicted.’
‘That it should happen in our time. That the ancient trust should be betrayed.’
‘Yet betrayed it is. And orcs found their way into the heart of this sacred place. We should be grateful it was only orcs Baldurach led and not something worse.’
Felix wondered if the elf and dwarf were as confused by this as he. They gave no sign. Teclis appeared to be concentrating hard on everything said. Gotrek merely stared into space as if bored.
‘You say they are part of this.’
‘Yes. Outsiders have taken over the Temple of the Old Ones. They have opened the ancients’ paths. In doing so, they have left an opening through which the ancient enemy can escape.’
‘Who is this enemy of which you speak?’ Felix asked.
‘An ancient spirit of darkness, imprisoned long ago, bound by mighty spells at the dawn of history. It seeks power and the domination of all.’
‘It was imprisoned using the power of the paths and the leylines,’ said Teclis. He sounded like a physician discussing a case of fever. The Oracle nodded.
‘It was the only way. No mortal would have had the power otherwise.’
‘And now the flows of power have been disturbed, its shackles have loosened.’
‘Yes. Though that is not your problem. Your concerns are more pressing. You seek to prevent the sinking of your homeland, do you not?’
‘Yes. How do you know this?’
‘Thoughts and visions can pass through the Paths of the Old Ones as well as living beings. I have talked with the same undying ones who talked with you. They told me of your coming. Our fortunes are linked. For you must clear the Temple of the Old Ones and close the paths once more, or your land is doomed.’
‘We must do it?’ said Felix. ‘Why us?’
‘For no one else in Albion has the power or the knowledge to do what needs to be done. The temple is in the hands of the fell powers of Chaos. They have driven forth the orcs and bound the god the greenskins worshipped.’
‘They have bound a god?’ said Felix. ‘With all due respect, I think beings who can do that are a little beyond our ability to deal with.’
He did not look around for fear that either the elf or the dwarf might disagree with him. They remained silent.
‘It is no true god, Felix Jaeger. It is one of the creations of the Old Ones, a guardian set to watch over their temple and their creations.’
Felix thought about the spider things they had fought back in the swamp. The memory did nothing to increase his liking for the task that was being proposed. ‘What sort of monsters are these?’
‘One of the giants of Albion, Felix Jaeger.’ Felix suppressed a groan. He did not need to be able to see the Slayer to know how interested he was. ‘The giants were made long ago, by the Old Ones, to guard their treasures and their secrets. They are near immortal but over the years, it is said, they have become altered, a degenerate parody of the noble creatures they once were. They fell to the worship of Chaos, and other vile practices. They became wicked, predatory creatures, that preyed on all things weaker than they, but still they kept to their duties in an odd way, bound by the geas the Old Ones placed on them. They haunted the old places and made them their lairs, filled them with their ill-gotten treasures.’
This was getting worse and worse – treasures as well as monsters! He was surprised Gotrek was not foaming at the mouth by now. ‘And you say one of them has been bound by the forces of Chaos.’
‘Aye, Magrig One Eye, mightiest of the giants of old, a slayer of dragons and behemoths in his day, before his brain became clouded and he acquired the lust for manflesh.’
‘Oh good, not just an ordinary gigantic monster then,’ said Felix.
‘No. He is large as a hillock and can smash castle walls with a blow of his club.’
‘And now he has been bound to the service of Chaos?’ said Teclis.
‘Aye, by Kelmain and Lhoigor, two of the foulest and most powerful of all the Changer’s servants.’
The old woman gestured and a vision appeared in the glowing mist that sprang up between her hands. It showed two miniature sorcerers, albino twins, one garbed in black, one in gold. Their heads were bald or shaven, their fingers were like claws.
‘I know them,’ said Felix, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. ‘We followed one of them into the Paths of the Old Ones. And they were at Praag with the Chaos horde,’ he added hastily, before his words could be misinterpreted.
‘Aye,’ said Gotrek. ‘They were. They advised Arek Dae
monclaw and his warlords. They summoned those great living siege engines and the daemons who stormed the walls.’
‘They are old enemies of yours?’ said Murdo.
‘They won’t get much older if they come within reach of my axe,’ said Gotrek.
‘That is good,’ said the Oracle, ‘for they are evil men and much in need of killing.’
Felix toted up the foes. ‘One giant, two sorcerers of great power, what else? Three dragons?’
‘The mages have their bodyguards, and every day they bring more and more Chaos warriors through the paths. They plan to use the ancient ways to invade many lands. They either do not know or do not care about the consequences of what they have done.’
‘A Chaos army as well then. Good – that seems simple enough. Shall we just walk in and challenge them all to single combat?’
‘I do not think you are taking this entirely seriously, Felix Jaeger,’ said the Oracle.
‘You spotted that, did you? I can see why they call you the Oracle.’ Felix seemed unable to keep his mouth shut.
Murdo’s hand reached for his knife. ‘You will show some respect…’
‘Or what? You’ll kill me. It seems your Oracle is going to do quite well on that score anyway.’
Felix knew he was sounded hysterical and bitter, but he could not help it. That was the way he felt. It seemed like it was out of the troll’s cookpot and into the flames. How could three of them achieve anything under these conditions? It was impossible. There was an army of monsters. There was a giant. There were two of the most powerful and evil magicians on the face of the planet. It did not matter how mighty a warrior Gotrek was or how powerful a sorcerer was Teclis, the odds were very much stacked against them. He shook his head, fighting for self-control. So what else was new? He had faced overwhelming odds before and survived. He and the Slayer had fought their way out of many dark places. This was just going to be one more. He looked at the Oracle.