Shadowblood

Chapter Fifteen

“I don’t like the look of this,” said the Barbarian. “Not at all.”

Sardec had to agree with him. There was something about this place that set his teeth on edge. The village was quieter than any he had ever seen save those ravaged by war, and this place looked untouched. All the buildings were intact. There were no signs of pillage but the chimneys gave forth no smoke and no animals or children played in the street.

The cavalry had swept through the place earlier and detected no signs of life. It was not along the main route of the army, but perhaps it could provide supplies. They had been assigned to investigate it, just in case. Rumour had it that they were fast approaching the outriders of the Eastern armies and Azaar wanted everything looked at it.

“Maybe the villagers fled when they heard we were coming,” said Toadface, licking his lips with his long tongue.

“Can’t say as I would blame them,” said Weasel. He radiated a feral alertness as he surveyed their surroundings. He obviously felt uneasy too. The sun was low in the sky and something told Sardec that this would be no place to be after dark.

“Deaders,” he said. “I think we’re going to find them here, if anywhere.”

No one disagreed with him. “May as well check out the tavern. See if there is anything worth taking. Check the houses as well. Groups of four. Cover each other. Be careful.”

“No drinking if you find any booze,” Sardec ordered. “I want every man able to fight if we’re attacked.”

For once there were no protests. All of them felt as he did. There was something wrong about this place. Sergeant Hef looked at him meaningfully.

“The locals might have left in a hurry, sir. Taken to the roads. Maybe they wanted to get out of the way of the war.”

“You sound about as convinced of that as I am, Sergeant.” Hef made a rueful grimace and spat on the ground.

“It all feels wrong, sir. All of it. It’s been bad since we left Talorea and its getting worse.”

“You’ll get no argument from me, Sergeant.”

“I was rather hoping I would, sir.”

“We’ve seen nothing but plague and dark magic and assassination since we left the homeland. The Elder races are stirring. The dead walk. I’d be a fool to try and convince you things were fine, and you’d be a fool to believe me. And we’re neither of us fools, are we Sergeant?” Sardec scanned the street as he spoke, watching for any signs of violence.

“I’d like to think that was the case, sir.”

The Foragers had started to emerge from the buildings. A few of them shook their heads. They looked confused. Sardec gestured for Weasel to come back over.

“What did you find, Weasel?” he asked.

“A couple of corpses, sir. Dead a while. Looked like someone had eaten bits of them.” They had seen more and more of that recently. The deaders liked to feed on human flesh. Sardec wondered why that was. He could see no pattern to any of it. Why did some corpses rise and others not? Did the undead feed only on those that did not rise or did they attack each other? He had no answers and he was not sure he wanted any.

“There’s something odd, sir.” Weasel sounded genuinely puzzled.

“Out with it, man.”

“Not enough bodies, sir. Not nearly enough for a village this size.”

“Maybe the cannibals ate them.”

“No bones, sir. Not many half-eaten corpses. There ought to be a lot more about if there was an outbreak of long-pig feasting.”

“Maybe the people fled when the plague hit.”

“Could be, sir. There’s tracks leading out all heading East.”

“And…”

“Something strange about the spacing of the prints, sir. As if all the people making the tracks were staggering drunk or…”

“Walking dead,” Sardec finished.

“Precisely, sir.”

They waited for the Foragers to finish checking the houses. They found nothing save a few gnawed bodies and putrefying corpses. Sardec looked at Hef and Weasel.

“Where did the corpse eaters go?” he asked.

“They might be hiding, sir,” said Hef.

Suddenly Handsome Jan came running up. “You’ll want to see this, sir,” he said. He sounded very frightened. Sardec followed him back to the local Temple and together they climbed up into the spire. “I came up here to get a look at the lie of the land as you ordered, sir.”

They reached the top of the Tower, emerged onto the open platform beneath the bell. Sardec had a clear view for leagues around. He did not need to follow the soldier’s pointing finger to see what had him so frightened. An enormous dust cloud was rising along the horizon, out of it loomed the massive forms of Bridgeback wyrms. He could hear something as well, the thunder of strangely powerful drums, beating like the heart of some world-eating monster.

Sardec flicked open his spyglass with his good hand and raised it to his eye. He picked out details, as figures emerged from the dust cloud. There were soldiers there in the purple and black uniforms of Sardea, thousands of them. Judging by the size of the cloud there must be hundreds of thousands marching behind them. How had the Sardeans mustered an army so large, so quickly?

Sardec came to a decision. “We need to take word of this back to Lord Azaar. Now!”

There were really two camps, some people claimed: the one where the soldiers were, and the one where the camp followers slept. Rik knew it was not quite so simple. Many of the troops had families, lovers and friends in the second camp and spent their time there. Others, like himself, sought some form of escape or anonymity there.

The first camp was laid out along Terrarch military lines, all the tents in ordered ranks with the regulation amount of space between them. It had been built around the outskirts of a village marked on the maps as Weswood.

The second camp was anarchic, with lean-tos and tents and people lying in blankets beneath the sky. Fires blazed everywhere, and the smell of smoke and cooking surrounded him. Musicians played, singers sang, and camp-girls called for custom. There were vendors here, selling skewered bird and rabbit and toasted bread. Makeshift bars made from planks set across empty barrels served beer to those who could afford it. Laughter and conversation rang out all around him. He listened to it all, drinking it in, sad that he could no longer feel entirely a part of it. For many years camps like this had been his home. He missed them sometimes.

It was a pity that none of his old company had returned from their patrol sweep yet. He had wanted to talk with them, escape for a few hours the feeling of being trapped in Terrarch intrigue, listen to tales of what they had found on the march, swap lies. He liked Asea well enough, and enjoyed her company but there were times when he needed to get away and this was one of them. From the scouts reports he knew that battle would be joined within the next day or two. The Eastern armies had been sighted by the light cavalry scouts.

“Rik,” a voice he recognised called out to him. “A word.”

He turned and saw Rena sitting there by a fire with a couple of girls he recognised. She rose from the spread blanket on which she had been sitting, adjusted her scarf and walked towards him. He smiled, pleased to see a familiar face in the whole lonely mass of people.

“You decided to come with the army, I see.” He smiled but she did not respond in kind. She looked drawn and worried. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“I don’t know. But I think you and Sardec are.”

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, knowing what she was going to say before she said it. “The Inquisition have been asking about you.”

“They picked you up?”

She nodded. “Back in Halim not long after I spoke to you. They dragged me off to the Palace. Threw me into a cell. Held me there overnight.”

“Then they asked you questions.” He suppressed a cold laugh. The thief-takers back in Sorrow worked in exactly the same way sometimes- picked you up and then left you to stew in a dank cell with no knowledge of why you had been lifted or what they knew about your activities.

She nodded again. Tears ran down her face. The memory had shaken her. “They asked how I knew you and how I knew him.”

“You told them?”

“I told them about Mama Horne’s.”

“What else did you tell them? What else did they ask you?”

“They asked about hill-men.”

“Did they give you any clue why?”

“There had been some murders. One of them was a scout who led the Foragers into the hills to find the Prophet Zarahel.”

“Vosh?”

“That was his name.”

“What did they want to know?”

“Whether either of you had ever talked about him. What happened to him in the end. It seems you were seen talking to him the night he died.”

Rik shuddered. So they knew that, did they?

“I had nothing to do with his death,” he said, hoping the lie was not evident in his voice. He had not killed the little hill-man but he had no doubt that the death was related to his knowledge of the grimoire he and the Weasel and the Barbarian had taken from the corpse of the Prophet’s tame wizard. If the Inquisition knew about that, it might be burning for sure.

“I never thought you did,” she said. “I told them that. They kept asking any way. They were very persistent. They said that a Terrarch Magister had died on that expedition, and that it was a serious business.”

It got worse, Rik thought. The Inquisition took the deaths of Terrarchs very seriously, particularly magicians. He had thought the regiment had managed to cover the matter up but it looked like he was wrong, and the thing was going to come back to haunt them.

“What else?”

“They asked me whether Sardec and I lived together. They talked about the miscegenation laws. They told me it was a serious matter for both of us. Were they telling the truth?”

“I’ve not heard of anyone being prosecuted under those laws for years but they are still on the books. No doubt the Inquisition find them useful when they want to put pressure on folks. What did you tell them?”

“The truth- what else could I do? They knew so much already, I could not risk lying to them. I wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. Do you think I’ve got Sardec into trouble?”

Rik considered the matter. He was no great expert on the politics of the Terrarchs but he had more experience of them than any other human Rena was likely to know. “I doubt it. He’s from an old and powerful family. His sort can look out for themselves.”

“They said his family would disown him if they found out about us. There would be a scandal. He could lose his commission then what?”

Anger twisted its knife in Rik’s stomach. He hated this. He hated the way their rulers felt no compunction on putting pressure on those who could least defend themselves. They stacked the odds against humans worse than Weasel stacked the cards playing hookjack and then accused the humans of cheating when it suited them.

“Half the officers in the army have human mistresses. If they cashiered all of them they would have to promote humans to lead. How likely do you think that is? They could not afford to do anything to upset the officer corps, not now, not with a war on.”

She looked suddenly hopeful. “You really think so?”

He was in no way certain. Maybe busting one officer would merely make the others more circumspect, but he felt the need to reassure her, and himself too. He did not like feeling like he was at the sharp edge of the Inquisition’s investigations.

“What should I do?” she asked.

Rik thought about it for a moment. There had been a time when he had hated Sardec with a passion and here was an opportunity to drop him into the mire. All he had to do was tell Rena to walk away or maybe come up with some other way to use this information. He considered the thought only briefly and then dismissed it. Once he might have jumped at the chance to do the dirty to Sardec and Rena but he found his hatred had faded, and that he disliked the Inquisition more than ever he had them.

“Maybe you should go and talk to Sardec. Tell him what’s happening. He might be able to use his family’s influence to protect you both.”

“Why would he do that? I am a human. He is a Terrarch.”

“Because it’s in his best interests to do so. It would avoid a scandal for him and his family.”

“Oh,” she said. She looked disappointed as if she had been expecting a different answer to the question entirely. “Do you really think I should do that? Do you really think he would want to speak to me? He was very cruel the last time we talked.”

“He’ll see you if you let him know what it’s all about. He would be mad not to do so.”

Another thought occurred to him. If Rena caused problems for Sardec and his family one easy solution would be to have her disappear permanently. He did not think Sardec would do that, but he was a Terrarch and who knew what they were capable of when their interests were threatened. And even if he meant Rena no harm, his family might use their influence in a way that did her no good whatsoever. Terrarchs were not famous for their regard for human life.

He weighed the possibilities in his mind and found no easy answer. The likes of Joran were capable of using her as a lever to get what they wanted, and that included pulling down Asea and himself. There was no certainty that Sardec and his family would do Rena harm. As far as he could tell, going to Sardec was the best thing for her to do.

He prayed he was not wrong.

“Can I speak with you, Lieutenant?” Sardec looked up from cleaning his sword at the sound of that familiar voice. It was not one he had ever expected to hear again.

“Of course you can, Rena,” he said, studying her closely. She looked pale and haggard and very lovely in the shadows and the firelight. There was a nervousness in her manner that made him feel ashamed. He wanted to tell her how glad he was to see her, but there were soldiers around and other Terrarchs and it would not have been dignified. “What do you have to say?” he could not keep a sullen note out of voice no matter how hard he tried to.

“Could we perhaps speak somewhere more private?” He sighed and picked himself up from the blanket on which he sat. He slid his sword back into his scabbard, and picked up his greatcoat. He draped it over her shoulders. It was surprisingly cold for the time of year and she was not well dressed for the weather.

“Walk with me,” he said, taking her gently by the elbow and moving slowly away from the fire. Rena’s face looked a little flushed. And she said nothing for some time. He waited, not quite sure what to say and unwilling to make a fool out of himself by speaking first.

“All of this frightens me,” she said at last.

“That is understandable. There is dark magic here. The dead walk. Plague stalks the land.”

She shivered. “That is not what I wanted to talk to you about?”

“I guessed as much. Take your time and tell me what is on your mind.”

“The Inquisition were asking about you, and about me, about us, really,” she said at last. Sardec did not know whether to laugh or be angry. She looked so serious. He did not know why he was surprised. It was the sort of thing the Inquisition was always interested in. Thinking about some of the things he had seen in the past year, it was a wonder that they did not have anything better to do. When he did not reply immediately she continued, “They said it was a crime against nature, us being together — against the natural order of things.”

“They would say that,” he said gently. “It’s the sort of thinking they are famous for.”

“They must be right. They are from the Church. They must know more about the will of God then we do.”

There had been a time not so long ago when he would have agreed with her. These days he had his doubts. What had happened between them could not be wrong but he supposed that, being a sinner, an Inquisitor would say he was in no position to make such a judgement. “I disagree.”

“Then that makes you a heretic and your soul is in danger.”

“Is that what Inquisitor Joran told you?”

“How did you know it was him?”

“I guessed. The Inquisitor seems to have his own reasons for sniffing around us.”

“You should not speak of him that way. He is a powerful Terrarch. He could do you harm.”

Sardec kept his voice gentle. “If that were his intention he would have done so already. I fear he has other reasons for going about this business, Rena. He is after bigger fish than you or I.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he seeks to put pressure on me through you, and then he intends to use me against the Lady Asea.”

“You mean I am doing what he wants by coming to you?”

“It does not matter. You have done the right thing by telling me. And I am glad to see you, Rena.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I could die in battle soon and I am glad to have a chance to see you tonight.”

She took his hands in her own. “You should not talk that way.”

“I am not planning on getting myself killed but accidents have been known to happen in combat.”

“You should not make jokes about it either.”

“I am just trying to lighten the mood. You look worried and I do not wish to see you so.”

“I do not want you to die.”

“That’s good because I do not wish to die either. We agree on something at least. We have not managed to do that very often of late.”

“I am sorry about that but you were so cold when we last spoke.”

“I know and I am sorry. I have been a fool. I always seem to be around you. I do not know why, but that is the way it is.”

“Do not be cold tonight,” she said. “I do not want that. I could not bear it if that were my last memory of you.”

Before he quite knew what was happening, she was in his arms, and he was kissing her.