Kormak 01 - Stealer of Flesh (7 page)

BOOK: Kormak 01 - Stealer of Flesh
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The priest looked up at him. “Massimo’s Wolves came. They killed everyone.”

“Massimo?” Kormak asked.

“Jaro’s henchman. The wizard. Moondog rebels, the pair of them. Kill them, Champion of the Sun. Kill them all.” He coughed blood and tried to make the sign of the Sun over his ripped chest. His eyes went wide and cold and Kormak realised that the last thing he had seen was the moon, an ill omen for a man of his faith.

Kormak picked his way through the ruins of the village, looking for survivors. There were none. The wolf-men had been thorough about their work. On his way back, he checked the body of the wolf-man he had killed. It still lay there, in a puddle of what looked like liquified flesh. The night-metal necklace glittered on its throat. Looking closely Kormak could see that it seemed to have fused into the flesh.

Kormak prised it free. It tingled in his hand as he touched it. He could feel the foulness in it, the taint of Shadow. It shattered when he struck it with his blade.

A wisp of ectoplasm drifted free and he ran his blade through it too, dissolving it and sending the bound spirit to its final death. Whoever this Massimo was, Kormak thought, he knew powerful dark magic.

He did not want to take his rest surrounded by the dead, and perhaps the wolf-man would return with companions.

In the distance Kormak could see smoke rising. There had been a lot of it since he had started riding through the Mountains of Darkness. Everywhere he looked there was burning and the signs of strife. It felt wrong. It was late autumn, not the time for local lordlings to be making war. He had seen more burned-out villages with the charred bodies of massacre victims strewn through them. He had seen farms and cottages burned to the ground. He had seen the flocks of sheep slain and left to rot.

He had been born in the mountains of Aquilea, a rough land, where clan feuds burned hot and long but he had never seen anything like this. Flocks were for rustling, not to kill and leave lying. This was more like the work of mad beasts than men. It was as if madness had struck right across the mountains.

He had seen their tracks, those of large, armed bands, leading away from the place where the massacres happened. Mingled with those of horses and men had been what looked like those of very large dogs. He guessed the wolf-men rode with the warriors.

Ahead of him he saw a body on the road. There was something about this that was at once repulsive and disturbing.

He reined his horse to halt and dismounted to inspect the corpse. He noticed the smell from many strides away, a peculiar mixture of rotting meat and something else, something suggestive of things long dead. He had a suspicion he knew what he would find even before he reached the body and he was not disappointed.

He knew the man, or he had known in him life. It was the robber-knight Wesley. His features seemed to have aged and at the same time putrefied. His body and his life had been consumed by the Ghul who had possessed him. It feasted on the life energy of its victims even as it took possession of their bodies.

The process was happening faster than it ought to according to the old records. Perhaps the Ghul had been weakened by millennia of imprisonment. Or perhaps some of Solareon’s spells binding it were still in place. In any case, this might perhaps represent a strange stroke of luck. If the Ghul needed to shift bodies constantly it would be easier to identify as the bodies decomposed and it would find it more difficult to locate new victims who would be wary of its appearance.

It seemed like it had already found a new victim, one who had not been wary enough, or perhaps one who had simply been overpowered by the knight. It occurred to Kormak that he had no idea what the new victim looked like. There did not seem to be any witnesses. He studied the ground for clues and found a staff and a bundle lying nearby, the sort that a tinker or an itinerant labourer might have carried. Had these belonged to Razhak’s last victim or was there no connection? In the absence of any further indicators, he would need to presume that there was a connection.

He looked around for tracks and found none. He had encountered no one on the road, so the Ghul had not doubled back. It was probably safe to assume that it was still fleeing before him, but for how long would that continue? If it reached a town it would have many more potential victims and many more ways to cover its tracks. Of course, there might be mages there who could help hunt it down. Kormak knew if the hunt took much longer he would need to seek the aid of a wizard himself. He could not simply rely on luck.

Part of him wondered why he was doing this at all. He could simply turn back and leave the Ghul to go on its way. No one would know but him. He could just turn his horse around and head west, back to Taurea and the home of his order. There was nothing to stop him. There were even those who would argue that it was his duty to do so, but he could not bring himself to believe that. The monster was free at least in part because he had failed. Lord Tomas and Wesley had taken his sword and his gear and used it in the ritual that had set Razhak free. It would not have happened if he had not been present and too weak to stop them.

Even as he pondered this he thought he heard movement in the undergrowth nearby. His hand went to the hilt of his sword. If Razhak was present he would need to defend himself. He walked closer to where the sound was coming from and he thought he heard sobbing. He kept one hand on the sword hilt and he pulled the bushes apart. Something looked up at him, large eyes staring fearfully out of a dirt-smudged face. It took Kormak a moment to realise it was a teenage girl.

She looked at Kormak. He inspected her for signs of possession.

“You just going to stare at me?” she asked. Kormak tilted his head to one side. She moved her hand. There was a knife in it. “If you come any closer I will stick you.”

She glared. He studied the pupils of her eyes. They were wide but they looked normal. There was no glaze and she was not looking at him fixedly. Her mannerisms were normal although that might not mean anything. A Ghul like Razhak had centuries to learn how to counterfeit those.

“What’s your name?” Kormak asked. He watched, listening closely for the slightest hesitation.

“Who’s asking?”

“My name is Kormak. I am a Guardian of the Order of the Dawn.”

“Yes and I am Our Lady of the Moon.”

“I would not say that too loudly where the Old Ones might hear,” Kormak said.

“It’s daylight. They do not come out in the sunlight.” She sounded normal but he had not really heard enough to judge. He needed to keep her talking. He needed to collect more information. Sometimes the only way to tell if someone was possessed was to look for small cues in their manner. He doubted that anyone who Razhak was within would rant and rave like a lunatic. The Ghul did not seem to be that sort of demon.

“Most of them can’t. Some can cloak themselves with spells. Others can take possession of human or animal forms. Sometimes they have other gifts. They can hear or see things a long way off. Particularly concerning things that are of interest to them.”

“You sound like a Guardian.”

“How would you know? Have you ever met one?”

“You sound like what they are supposed to sound like.”

“What is your name?”

“Are you on a quest?”

“I am hunting a monster. I am trying to decide whether you are what I am looking for.”

She looked insulted and then a little frightened and she brought the knife between them. She held it edge on, more as a barrier than as if she knew how to use it. She would have had the point towards him if she did.

“And if you think I am the one you are looking for, you will kill me, won’t you?”

He nodded.

“You’ll try,” she said.

“No. I will kill you,” he said. “It is what I do. That tiny knife won’t stop me. You can’t even hold it properly.”

His voice was flat and calm and that just made it more frightening. She flinched away from him.

“You really would, wouldn’t you?”

“I really would.”

“And you’re the sort of cold bastard who would tell me that as well.”

“I am trying to get a sense of who you are and whether you are possessed.”

“Like by a demon?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not an accident you are on this road. You are looking for something that looked like a rotting corpse walking.”

“I am.”

“It looks like the nastiest beggar you ever saw, smelled worse, smelled so bad you knew it could not be anything good.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Why do you think I am hiding here?”

“I have no idea. I am trying to find out.”

“So you can decide whether or not to kill me.” He did not say anything, just watched her. He was ready for anything or he thought he was. He was not prepared when she laughed and said, “You’re as bad as the Wolves.”

“Who are they?”

“You’ve just ridden into these parts, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“They’re who has been burning and raping and looting and killing. They’re the worst of the worst, the remnants of Jaro’s army and something even nastier.”

“Who is Jaro?”

“Jaro was the Pretender. He raised his banner here in the mountains, declared himself king. A load of the local lads thought he’d make a good one so they signed on with him.”

“The real king of Valkyria decided different.”

“Who is to say who is the real king?”

“The one with the victorious army.”

“You’re not as dumb as you look, are you? Yeah—King Sturmbrand scattered Jaro’s rebels at Hell Ford. They say he struck down the Pretender with his blade Lightning but the body was never found. Massimo, Jaro’s pet wizard, retreated into the mountains to cook up some new devilry. The Wolves appeared soon after that.”

“So you’ve got what’s left of a rebel army riding around and plundering.”

“That’s how it started. Have you decided whether you are going to kill me or not?”

“Not yet. Keep talking.”

“You could be one of them, you know. You’ve got the eyes.”

“Have I?”

“Flat and cold and with a real distance in them. You’ve killed a lot of people, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t even have to think about it or look embarrassed or ashamed when you say it?”

“Should I?”

“You obviously don’t think so. You’re proud of it, aren’t you?”

“No. It’s my calling. You were telling me about the Wolves.”

“They used to be called that because of the wolf’s head on Jaro’s banner. But since they started following his lieutenant, Massimo, the sorcerer, some of them have become real wolves. You heard of Massimo?”

“No.”

“He’s a bad one, has made pacts with the Shadow, so they say, and if you really are a Guardian you should take a look at him.”

“I might.”

“You would never get within a hundred feet of him. The Wolves would tear you apart.”

“His pets are nasty?”

She laughed bitterly. “They’re not pets. They are men. Or at least they once were men. He did something to them during the rebellion, changed them in some way. Now they are something different. At night, they can change into monsters. You know, I really am starting to believe you are a Guardian. A normal man would be back on his horse and riding for his life about now. You just stand there as if you’ve heard this sort of thing all before.”

“I have.”

“So are you going to do anything about it? Somebody ought to make Massimo and his bastard monsters pay for what they are doing.”

“It sounds like it will take more than one lone Guardian to do that.”

“I thought you lot were supposed to be heroes, sneer in the face of danger, defy demons, that sort of thing.”

“I am sorry to disappoint. I already have one monster I am tracking. Are you going to tell me what you know about it?”

“So you are convinced that I am not it?”

“Maybe.”

“Cagey bastard, aren’t you?”

“It’s how I have lived to my advanced age.”

“It’s a skill I wish you would teach me.”

“What is your name, girl?”

“Petra.”

“What are you doing on this road?”

“My brother and I were fleeing, trying to get away.”

“From where?”

“Oakbridge. It was our village back along the road. The Wolves burned it.”

“You fled?”

“We fled. We were the only ones left alive. Luck really. Our house was on the edge of the village furthest from where they broke in. Tam smelled the burning, woke me. We crept out and hid, dived into the millpond. That way the Wolves could not smell us.”

“Clever.”

“Tam was a good hunter. He knew about such things. He taught me what he could after our parents died.”

“Where is he now?”

“You already know, don’t you?”

“The demon took him, or it took his body.”

“It was horrible. I could hear him screaming. He told me to run then he told me to come back. The voice did not sound like him at all.”

“It wasn’t. It was the thing that killed him.”

“He’s dead then.”

“His body is walking the world. His soul is not in it though.”

“Then I can’t even give him a proper burning.”

“You follow the Solar rites here?”

“Our village did. It’s all mixed up here though in the mountains. Some are moondogs. There’s old hatred here. Massimo is a moondog, so are his Wolves. You’d better hope they don’t see you. You’re sworn to the Sun, aren’t you?”

“I was. A long time ago.”

“You going to kill me or not?” Kormak looked at her. She was just a girl, with eyes that looked as if they were about to brim with tears, who had been hungry for too long. At least as far as he could tell.

“How did Razhak catch you?”

“Razhak? Is that the sort of demon you are chasing?”

“It’s his name.”

If she was curious as to how he knew that, she gave no sign. “He rode up, on a big horse. I thought there was something odd about him. It was the smell. We started to run but he rode Tam down. He just passed me by.”

“I don’t think Razhak would want a woman’s body here. It would make him too vulnerable.”

“You make it sound very cunning.”

BOOK: Kormak 01 - Stealer of Flesh
3.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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