A Clash of Shadows (18 page)

Haflidi and Mikael were on their way to the stairs.

“Move!” she shouted but it was too late. She smacked into them. One of the lamps flew off for parts unknown and a moment later the demon hit all three of them.

Katja fell forward. From the corner of her eye she saw Haflidi be thrown to the side and hit something. And then all thinking ceased as the demon grabbed her back and hoisted her in the air.

Katja tried to understand what was up or down but could only notice the claws and blood and the demon’s roar and the fact that she had moments to live.

A burning eye stared into her soul. The hatred was almost paralysing.

Now I die.

Mikael leapt to the demon with a long spear in both hands and drove it into its torso. The demon growled at him and swung one paw at him. The rotten shaft broke like a twig and Mikael stumbled backwards.

Katja kicked at the demon’s head and was able to change her position somewhat. She channelled the Sentinel Flame into the sword as Serdra had taught her. And with a battle cry on her lips she swung the glowing blade through the arm holding her.

Katja fell on the stone steps along with the limb.

The demon screamed with pain and Katja fought to get up before it could recover. The monster raised the remaining arm for a blow.

Suddenly a bright Sentinel Flame lit up between them. The blow hit it and the arm was badly burned.

Serdra is here!

The demon staggered back up against the bannister. Katja gave in to an impulse and ran through the Flame and shoved the demon with all her might. The monster fell over the bannister and hit the floor with a loud smack.

Katja ran down the steps. She saw Serdra down on the ground floor in the light coming off the demon. The woman ran to the monster with the sword glowing bright with the power of the Flame and struck it before it could stand.

The demon tried to retaliate but Serdra cut the claws apart. The monster was in a wretched state. The wounds from the Flame were smoking and the fire on its head had faded.

Katja vaulted over the bannister once she was most of the way down and ran to them.

The demon struck at Serdra again but its movements weren’t as powerful or quick as before. The woman dodged and cut a deep wound into the arm. Katja came and cut it in the leg.

It was losing and knew it. It frantically tried to strike and bite, but they worked together too well. Serdra slashed and when it reacted to that Katja slashed. And when it turned to Katja in a rage Serdra cut its leg off.

VICTORY!
Katja screamed in her mind with savage joy and stepped up to the monster with the sword held high.

She drove the glowing blade into her enemy’s head. She heard the death scream in her mind as the monster sank back where it had come from and the body dissolved.

The scream stretched on, filled with hatred and misery and disappointment. It took Katja some time to realize that it had eventually stopped.

It’s over
, she thought to herself but couldn’t accept it just yet.

Serdra put her sword on top of Katja’s blade and pushed it down a bit.

“It’s over,” she said calmly. “And we must vacate this place.”

“You sure took your time in arriving,” Katja said and managed to laugh a bit. Her nerves were strained and she found the sound terribly girlish.

Serdra touched her back and only then did Katja notice that her leather jacket was torn from the claws. Still, there was no blood on the woman’s fingers.

“This is a large building and you probably overestimated the time.”

Perhaps so
, Katja thought and sheathed the sword. She saw movement in the corner of her eye and looked up.

Mikael was leaning over the bannister, looking at them. The raven landed on its master’s shoulder. The man’s lamp lay somewhere in the steps but Katja thought she saw a small smile on his lips. He seemed remarkably unalarmed by this whole thing.

“Is something the matter?” Serdra asked. She still hadn’t sheathed her weapon.

“The matter?” the man asked and continued observing them. He could hardly have missed the Sentinel Flame.

He shook his head. Then he looked towards a rustle behind himself in the steps and Katja suddenly remembered Haflidi.

“Not to me, at any rate.”

The man walked to his comrade and Katja waited by the bottom of the stairs so she would see them.

Mikael helped Haflidi up. The man had two cuts on his forehead that formed a ‘V’ above his left eye. Katja couldn’t tell whether he had been hit by the claws or just landed on something. The bleeding was considerable but Katja knew from experience that head wounds usually looked worse than they really were.

Haflidi took a moment to get his bearings and then had Mikael let him go. The first thing he did was to touch Mikael’s side bag. Katja now saw that something had been added to it. A book, it seemed.

“Everything is fine,” Mikael told him.

Haflidi nodded and looked in the direction of the mercenary camp.

“We best make ourselves scarce,” he said.

Mikael picked up his lamp and they all strode back to the basement without further comment. The noise of the demon had to have carried far.

They hurried down the steps. Katja stumbled a bit but managed to not fall on her face. The Sentinel Flame always cost her dearly and as the heat of battle left her veins her sense of pain returned.

Oof
.

They dropped down the hatch one by one. Mikael was the last and he pulled the cover back in place.

They continued walking in utter silence. After a while Mikael looked back at Haflidi. The man had fallen behind. He walked with one hand on his bleeding forehead and the other held the lamp, which swung by his hip.

“Go on ahead of me,” he said. “I will catch up.”

Mikael took a good look at this comrade of his but then looked away without saying anything.

The journey was naught but darkness and tightness and echoes and soreness. And freedom from the aura of the demon and the satisfaction of having ended it. To have obeyed her nature.

Late in the walk Mikael looked back again. Except now he was looking at Katja. She looked back until he stopped it.

It occurred to her to look back again. Haflidi had fallen more behind, but now kept an even pace and seemed to be in decent condition.

“We have arrived,” Serdra said. Though Mikael held the lamp she had wound up in the lead. Katja peered over their shoulders. She could glimpse the minuscule light that made it down to the tunnel at night.

A good night’s work.

“We are coming up!” Mikael called when the tunnel swerved upwards.

“Yes, come on,” said the blond man.

Serdra went up first and Mikael followed close on her heels.

Katja sensed something was wrong a moment before someone struck at Serdra with an axe. Another man struck at Mikael. The raven took to the air and Mikael fell back and bumped into Katja.

Serdra dodged with that amazing speed of hers and drove a knife into the man’s belly.

Katja tried to get past Mikael but the man drew his sword and charged back up. Serdra dodged a sword-swing from the blond man and stabbed him in the neck. Mikael stabbed the third one in the torso almost in the same instant.

Katja made it up with sword in hand but by then it was over. Serdra stabbed the still living ones in the heart to silence their wails.

Katja leaned up against a wall and tried to understand what had just happened.

The Brotherhood. That was her first thought. Had they arranged this? Had they known they would attempt this journey? Or had these men simply been members?

Serdra was focused but calm. She seemed to be listening for further trouble. Then she strode out of the cabin.

Mikael stood by the tunnel. He seemed to be startled but not greatly so. In fact he seemed to be ruminating much like she herself.

Katja heard Serdra examine the horses. It was good to know they hadn’t been led off by some compatriots of the trio.

Does this change anything?
she thought and looked over the carnage. This Fox fellow apparently cast a wide net.

She heard footsteps and Haflidi finally hesitantly exited the tunnel. He looked the situation over with a neutral look.

“Were you behind this?” Mikael asked.

They locked gazes. Mikael was not jesting.

“No, Mikael,” Haflidi said and Katja felt he took the accusation quite well.

“Are you sure?” Mikael said and didn’t relax.

“Yes, I am sure,” Haflidi said calmly. “The Fox is a dangerous man. These fellows were probably given instructions to kill us and take any valuables we might have found in the manor.”

“That is a very handy explanation, yes,” Mikael said in the same stern voice.

Katja didn’t know whether to contribute anything. She had no revelations about what had just happened.

“We knew this would be dangerous,” Haflidi said and held his hands out innocently.

“It’s done,” Serdra said from the doorway. She looked at Katja. “Let’s be off. We have other things to tend to.”

The words were for Katja but still affected Mikael and Haflidi. They looked at her and the tension between them relaxed a bit.

“This probably isn’t a safe location,” Haflidi pointed out to his comrade. “The Fox probably doesn’t appreciate his men being killed. We need to get back north. Quickly.”

Mikael nodded slowly but Katja didn’t think he looked all that mollified.

She had almost forgotten the looming meeting with Leifur.

Was he behind this?

They mounted.

“Well,” Katja said as she brought the horse under control. It was uneasy. “It was nice meeting you,” she said with forced frivolity.

Mikael hesitated a moment before taking his eyes off Haflidi.

“Yes, this has been an interesting meeting,” he said.

Haflidi waved at them with his bloody hand.

“Farewell,” he said. “I’m glad you came along. This could have gone very differently.”

Serdra bid them farewell and they drove the horses on.

Katja looked over her shoulder and watched them disappear into the darkness along with whatever they had dug up in the manor.

She then looked ahead and channelled her thoughts in the same direction. The night wasn’t over yet.

15.

Katja stared into the darkness. Everything was quiet around Old Stack, but she would have felt better at seeing some movement. It would at least have implied something about what was about to take place.

She looked behind herself. They had found an out-of-the-way spot to tie the horses. They had had to keep in mind the conditions that no one would be likely to hear them, that they would be safe there for a little while and that they wouldn’t take too long to reach if something went wrong. They had settled for a compromise that fulfilled at least a fraction of all of those.

The horses had long since vanished from sight and Katja knew she wouldn’t hear them except possibly if wolves got at them. She looked ahead again, towards the bridge.

“Shouldn’t we assume an ambush?” she asked.

“That’s for the best, yes.”

Serdra looked the area over and thought.

“You go east,” she said and pointed to the left of the road. “I go west. Barring any incidents we will meet on the other side of the bridge.”

Katja nodded. She waited a moment to see if the woman had any further instructions, then headed off. They had practised situations like this.

Katja kept to depressions and behind mounds as much as she could. She occasionally peeked up to look at the bridge. A smart ambush would have Leifur alone on the bridge and his comrades hiding in the depressions, but perhaps they hadn’t given it due thought.

There was nothing to hear except the creatures of the night and the din of the river. Katja occasionally crawled when cover was scarce and was yet again grateful for the leather. The blows from the demon and the effort she had put into her own blows had taken a toll. The effects weren’t crippling but she had to have constant care and keep in mind which muscles weren’t as reliable as usual.

Finally she crawled down to her river and let her feet slip into the cold water. The night was warm and the crawling took effort, so the mild shock was actually rather refreshing. She slid down to her chest and held her breath so as to not gasp when the cold hit harder.

She then swam with the current to the opposite bank and began the fight to get up without making a noise. Once that battle was finally won she crawled on towards the city and stopped once she was some distance from the bridge.

Nothing shady seemed to be going on. She thought to herself that it would have been nice to know that a bit earlier and managed a slight smile.

The rustling that approached from the west put her on alert a moment before Serdra whispered to her. She approached her mentor and they knelt together by the side of the road.

“Did you find anything?” Katja asked, probably needlessly.

“No.”

They watched the bridge.

“He doesn’t know about you,” Katja said. “So I should probably lie in hiding close to the bridge and see if and when Leifur attends the meeting. And you will presumably be somewhere a bit further away and observe.”

“I was thinking just that,” Serdra answered.

The woman then closed her eyes and concentrated. She took a few calm breaths through her nose. Katja knew to keep still and quiet until her eyes opened again.

“I smell blood,” Serdra said and nodded her head towards the bridge.

Another sacrifice?

It was Katja’s first thought and it chilled her.

But there was no sorcery in the air. At least none she sensed at this range.

Serdra stood up and carefully approached the bridge. Katja followed.

“Here,” Serdra said and pointed at a spot by the bridge’s south end. Katja peered her eyes in the dark and spotted a big, dark stain.

There was murder in the air.

“Stand guard for a little while,” Serdra said and arranged herself on the bridge.

Katja drew her sword and took up position by her mentor’s side.

Serdra did not possess Katja’s inherent skill at seeing the past, but she did have great experience and seeing a fresh murder was easy. It was over quickly and the woman opened her eyes and stood up.

Katja didn’t care for what she saw. Serdra had never shown her fear and Katja didn’t know if this very old woman was even capable of it. But Serdra’s face now shone with hard focus Katja had rarely seen. She suspected that was what the woman experienced in place of fear.

“Look,” was her only comment.

Katja slid down into a sitting position. She steeled herself and shut her eyes. This would be unpleasant.

--------------------

Leifur was armed and nervous. He strode back and forth on the bridge and tension was evident in every movement. Uncertainty and worry gnawed away at him and when something approached him from the south he touched the weapon and positioned himself on the middle of the bridge.

He demanded the man’s name and Vajan introduced himself and bowed mockingly. Leifur reacted with disgust and outrage. He knew the name and the reputation that came with it. The bastard brat who had been inducted into the Brotherhood at ten years of age. What did he think he was doing here?

Vajan was indifferent to the outrage. He wanted answers, not questions. He wanted to know what happened a few days ago and what it would mean in a larger context.

Leifur replied that he knew quite well what caused the curiosity and spat out his knowledge. A split in the Golden Plain coven. A new, independent group in need of a secret place in which to scheme and test the secrets stolen from Tovar Savaren a year before. All of this he knew and threw into Vajan’s face to see his reaction to revealed secrets.

Vajan’s reaction was to give a signal and an arrow flew through the air and into Leifur’s back. Then he interrogated the prone man with a knife in hand and demanded answers. They came readily enough and were as before hard and weapons of a sort. Weapons that pierced Vajan’s armour of mockery and wiped the smile from his face.

An Acolyte and his men had passed through the country. They meant to travel by boat to dig up one of their masters. A Death Lord slumbered somewhere by the Inner Sea. Leifur had just gotten confirmation of that. After the night battle the Night Hand men had simply gone into hiding and awaited reinforcements from the north.

Vajan’s spying and operations had played a part in their escape from Farnar. He reacted to the news and cruel laughter by murdering Leifur and rolling him into the river.

Then he looked towards the city and walked off.

--------------------

Serdra shook Katja, which reminded her that she existed. She fell forward with her hands on her neck. She had delved deep for information. Too deep. The wounds remained in her mind, almost as if she had received them herself.

She was sweating and fought to breathe through a throat that felt wide open. She gasped and coughed.

Death will be like this
, she thought for a moment.

Serdra stood still and silent, but Katja thought she detected a challenge in the inaction. She gathered her strength and resisted the memories, but the road back was uncomfortably long.

Katja reached for the rail and pulled herself to her feet.

“A Death Lord? Really?”

“It could have been a lie meant to prolong his life,” Serdra answered. “But he seemed serious to me. And an Acolyte would indeed be dispatched for such a task.”

“So they mean to find and wake a Death Lord?” Katja asked and tried to get her mind around the concept. Suddenly the world felt fragile. “Are we on the verge of another Death Lord war?”

Her own words chilled her. It felt like this couldn’t be. An apocalypse war, so early in her life and career? Was she prepared for something like that? Was this fractured world prepared?

“Perhaps,” Serdra said, but was in deep and serious thought. “The Night Hand worships their masters. And for one of us to find and destroy a slumbering Death Lord would be a great feat. So they would only disturb one’s resting place if the next war is around the corner, or if they wish to move him to a safer hiding place.” Serdra ruminated. “No one has predicted that we are on the edge of the next great war.”

“And... what would make such a hiding place unsafe?”

“People,” Serdra said. “Risk of discovery.”

She was briefly silent again and Katja squirmed. She felt they ought to speed off. Hurry to
somewhere
, do
something
.

“It seems most likely,” Serdra said slowly, “that they originally arranged their master in some forsaken place and since then it has grown less isolated. That some settlement or road is too close for comfort. So they wish to move him before someone finds the spot by coincidence, or moving becomes too difficult.”

She looked downwards, still in deep thought.

“The Night Hand would take utmost caution in this task,” Serdra thought out loud. “Anything else is unthinkable.” She started walking along the bridge. “Little is known about the slumber of the Death Lords, but we do know they lie in sarcophagi meant for their protection. It would take a wagon or a ship to move one. And they would be safer on a ship. In their shoes I would use a ship as much as possible.”

Katja happened to glance towards the city.

“Look!” she shouted and pointed.

The sky over Farnar City was brighter than it should be. Katja squinted and saw a cloud of smoke drifting to the west. The fire was some distance away; probably in or around the harbour district.

“Could this be a coincidence?” Katja said and could only find it unlikely.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Serdra said. “It’s possible that Vajan had some contacts or other way of getting within the city wall.”

“But why start a fire?”

“Perhaps he has found another Brotherhood safehouse for the local coven. But we cannot investigate until the morning.”

Serdra watched the golden light.

“Let us go and speak with Geir Anson in Hare Grove. We can ask him whether there are any other hiding places for ships. If there is nothing he can tell us we will enter the city in the morning and investigate by the harbour.”

“All right. That’s wise,” Katja said nervously and headed towards the horses. She tried to run all the way and was annoyed at Serdra’s light jog. Granted, Katja exhausted herself long before reaching the horses and had trouble mounting, but she didn’t feel she had time for fatigue. Perhaps the world didn’t.

A Death Lord war.

She barely managed to resist the urge to drive the horse on hard. It was the middle of the night and it would be no use with a broken leg.

They followed Geir’s instructions and after a bit of searching they found a certain path east of the city. They then rode along it at a slow pace. The horses would have to be able to reach the secret harbour and return.

She looked back before the city vanished behind the landscape. The glow came from the harbour area and was quite eerie at a distance where she neither heard the flames nor smelled the smoke. There had to be great noise in the city; a ringing of bells and shouts and chaos as people fought the fires.

Could this be a coincidence, or did this have something to do with Vajan’s flight?

Katja didn’t have much experience with fires, but this one didn’t seem major. One could hope this was just a few houses.

Farnar passed by in the darkness while Katja‘s mind raged. The ghostly fires felt like harbingers of what was to come.

You are weary
, she thought.
And delved too deep earlier. Relax a little.

The self-comfort did not cut deep but at least she managed to start focusing on the present as the journey progressed.

“I think we are almost there,” Serdra said after a lengthy silence. Katja examined the landmarks the woman pointed out and realized she had just been following Serdra rather than thinking of the directions.

Yes, this did correspond with Geir’s descriptions of the area around Hare Grove. The landscape had sloped upwards for a while and she had glimpsed cliffs. It had also been a while since she saw signs of habitation. And now the land began sloping downwards and growing quite sparse.

The path led down to an even plain and when it went up again Katja suspected they had arrived. She looked north. Geir had described a rather peculiar hill as the main landmark, but it wasn’t visible in the dark.

Serdra dismounted and walked to the forest area between them and the sea. Katja watched her disappear downwards for a little while and upon returning she confirmed their suspicions.

“There is a small cove down there. Surrounded by cliffs. This has to be the right place.”

Serdra went first and found a comfortable way down for the horses and Katja followed with the leads in hand. The beasts didn’t care for the trip and there was no proper path, but they managed a gradual descent.

The sound of the ocean carried up the slope and marked their progress. Sometimes they had to sidle clumsily to the side to find a way down. Katja found it unbearable. It was as if the world were throwing obstacles in their way exactly when they least afforded it.

Finally Katja could taste salt on her tongue and soon after they exited the thicket and stepped onto the beach.