The Barrow (72 page)

They had piled the Azharites into a shallow pit some small distance from their camp, and then covered it with a shallow heaping of dirt. Twenty-two of the Devil-worshippers, black-masked, rune-covered, dripping in charms and enchantments and poisoned weapons.

“Half of us gone in an instant,” Arduin had said thickly, as Sir Helgi had spat on the mound of dirt.

“We're lucky more of us aren't dead,” Stjepan had said, setting a shovel down and wiping his hands clean of dirt and sweat. “A testament to your skill at arms, gentlemen. But there was nothing to indicate, either from the tracks or the possessions we have found amongst the dead, if these men were just some random patrol or raiding party that had stumbled over us simply because we are traversing lands that the Azharites claim as theirs, or if our attackers had sought us out as specific quarry. Though I am inclined to think the former.”

“You think it was just random chance that we were attacked here, right after finding the entrance to the Barrow of Azharad?” Arduin had asked with a scoff.

“Nonsense. Someone warned them we were coming,” had said Gilgwyr. “By magic or by messenger they knew we would be here.” He had taken a swig from a bottle of wine and passed it to Pallas Quinn, who had already appeared to be well into his cups at that point.

“That's just it,” Stjepan had replied. “If you were one of the Azharite warlords of the Uthed Wold and someone had sent you word that a large party of explorers was on its way with a map leading to the burial place of your ancient Sorcerer-King, would you just send thirty men?”

They had all paused for a moment, staring down at the fresh mound of dirt.

“Maybe that's all they had?” Sir Helgi had ventured.

“Nah, Black-Heart's right,” Godewyn had said, spitting to one side. “I had a talk with Jack Hardee a few years back when we were on a job into the ruins at Bronrood, he lives up in the Kettle March and knows the Azharites better than just about anybody. He said there's one of them they call the Horned King, and he's their master, and several rival Witch-Kings that serve under him as captains of their ruined citadels, and they've each got hundreds of these warrior savages in their companies. We saw a fair number of them in their caves and tunnels there. On something potentially this big, if it was me, I'd have sent every available sword I had.” He glanced at Black-Heart. “This could get really bad if they figured out why we were here.”

Some of them had turned away from the pile of dirt, then, to scan the land around them in the dark with worried eyes.

“Let's move fast in the morning, yeah?” Stjepan had said.

Annwyn's hand moved the flap of her tent open, giving her a view of the camp. Sir Colin Urwed stood only a pace of two away with his back to her, his hands resting on his bared greatsword. He didn't seem to be aware that she had come to the tent flap behind him, intent instead on watching a group moving west up the hill toward the entrance to the barrow as the sun rose in the east behind them. She could see the young squire Wilhem Price and her handmaiden Malia were moving about the camp beyond Sir Colin, doing busy work around the now-doused campfires, cleaning up after the hasty morning meal.

She followed Sir Colin's gaze, and could see Stjepan, Arduin, Sir Helgi, Gilgwyr, four of the ruffians they'd hired on at the Inn—Godewyn, Pallas Quinn, Too Tall, and Caider Ross, though she did not know their names—Erim, and Leigh; they were moving quietly but swiftly up the stone steps they had uncovered yesterday, carrying weapons, tools, and other gear either in leather and canvas bags or slung over their shoulders.

My champions
, she thought idly. Then she closed the tent flap.

Pallas Quinn, Caider Ross, and Too Tall were busy preparing lanterns. Erim tested her still-bandaged left arm. Arduin and Sir Helgi stood to the side grimly, both of them in their full armor: a complete field harness for Arduin, and a three-quarter harness for Sir Helgi. Their sallet helmets hung from their sword belts. Gilgwyr wiped at his sweating brow, looking very out of his element.

Arduin stared at the entrance into the hillside before them, and shuddered a bit. “Burying your dead in the earth . . . a barbaric practice,” he muttered.

Stjepan glanced his way. He wasn't sure if Arduin had intended anyone else to hear him, but he spoke to him anyway. “Each practice has its purpose, my Lord: burial, for those of the Old Religion, to return them to the Earth that gave us birth . . .” he said, motioning to the north and the Vale of Barrows. Then his hand swept up, indicating the sky. “. . . And the funeral pyre for those who wish their ashes to guide their spirits to the heavenly halls of our Divine King.”

“And should you die, Athairi, how should we treat your body?” asked Arduin.

“I shall be buried in the Earth when I die,” Stjepan said, staring at the entrance; it seemed to be calling to him.
But that's all right, it's calling all of us
, he thought.

Erim wanted to ask why witches were burned at the stake, but thought better of it.

“This wizard, then; he was one of your lot, a follower of the Great Goddess Yhera?” asked Sir Helgi with a frown. “I thought you've been telling us that we shouldn't think the Old Religion and the Nameless Cults are the same, and yet here now you tell us that they treat the dead the same.”

“Not
exactly
the same,” said Stjepan, shaking his head. “The followers of the Nameless Cults used to secret their dead in the earth so they might later be animated by necromancers, to become guardians and corpse warriors. In ancient days they might also seek to revive them in foul and secret rituals. But by all report their cults lost the knowledge of how to bring one of their wizards back to life as a Worm King centuries ago. Githwaine was the last one. Strictly speaking, I suppose it wasn't really burial for them, not in the way that the Old Religion thinks of burial; it was more like . . .
storage
.”

Leigh laughed. “A wonderful image, pupil of mine, the dead beneath the earth like apples and potatoes in the root cellar,” the enchanter chortled. “Delightful.”

They all looked at Leigh as though he was crazy; which he was.

Godewyn clapped Stjepan on the shoulder. “Well, then; lead on, smart boy,” Godewyn said.

Stjepan glanced at Arduin, who smiled weakly and inclined his head in invitation to Stjepan to proceed.

Stjepan turned and contemplated the entrance to the barrow again. With a grunt, he stepped forward, nodding to Caider Ross, who fell in behind him with a lantern lit and ready.

They moved into the barrow.

Sunlight streamed into the corridor from the entrance; with the sun rising to the east, its light filtered directly into the barrow. Silhouettes emerged one by one from the light, first Stjepan and then Caider Ross, followed by the rest, with Pallas Quinn last, bearing another lantern. The corridor was made of large flat upright stones arranged as the walls and etched with the bas-reliefs of horned demons with barbed tails, capped with other large stones laid over the top. The corridor slanted slightly downward. They walked over a floor of colorful stone mosaics covered by a thin layer of dust and dirt, seemingly undisturbed for hundreds of years, following the long passage until it ended in a small chamber of rough piled stone walls.

Stjepan paused before one of the bas-reliefs and Caider held the lamp closer so that Stjepan could inspect it.

“We've seen these before, some of the barrows down in the Vale have them,” said Caider. “Carving's a lot better than the ones I've seen.”

Stjepan studied the bas-relief for a moment and nodded. “A depiction of one of the
Baalhazor
, guardian demons of the First Hell. Done in an early Iron Age style, so it's of more recent make than you would expect over in the Vale of Barrows. Most of the barrows there were built in the Golden Age and the Age of Legends, up until the coming of Dauban Hess and the cult of the Divine King. Some were still being built during the Bronze Age, but use of the Vale pretty much stops after the Curse of Lost Uthedmael. Look, all of the faces are in profile, except the horns, which are depicted as though you're looking at it head-on, that's typical of the years after the Black Day Battle,” he said, pointing at the row of figures and then looking back toward Leigh. “Magister, what do you think?” he asked.

Leigh moved forward and studied them. “Aye,” said Leigh. “Definitely meant to be the
Baalhazor
. A reminder to thieves and grave robbers of which Hell awaits them, I would think. So in and of itself not an indication yet of whose tomb we are approaching. The old Daradj and Danian tradition sometimes included a depiction of the
Baalhazor
as a warning, as we use gargoyles today.”

Caider glanced around at the walls and floor. “The stone floor is a little odd, usually these places are just packed earth for floors,” he said.

“Aye,” said Godewyn. “The floor's unusual, normally it ain't like this that we've seen.”

Stjepan continued on and came to a stop in a small antechamber before a large, flat oval iron plate inlaid with leering faces in copper and bronze, which acted as a door and seal over the next passage. There were some small trinkets and urns placed around the walls of the antechamber and in front of the iron plate. A few of the others crowded in behind him, but the chamber was not large and most of them were still behind them in the entrance passage.

“This might explain why the floor is paved with stone,” said Stjepan. “It's almost like a shrine here, with offerings and tribute left behind.”

“A place for a hero's cult,” said Leigh quietly, and everyone glanced at each other with a bit of excitement.

Stjepan passed a hand a few inches over the iron plate's surface, tracing an inlaid carving, as though feeling for something. Leigh stepped forward and similarly ran an amulet over the stone.

“Reveal that which is hidden!”
Leigh whispered, and he paused for a long moment before stepping back. “Nothing. No wards, or curses upon this door, that I can see.”

Stjepan nodded in agreement. He and Godewyn, Caider Ross, and Too Tall took positions to one side of the iron plate with crowbars, arranging themselves haphazardly so as not to get in each other's way.

“Step back, old man,” Godewyn said to Leigh. The enchanter looked askance at him but moved back out into the entrance passage. The four men remaining in the chamber grunted as they struggled to push the iron plate aside. Mortar crumbled from the edges. A slight puff of air exited the opening, and then as if in response suddenly a tremendous gust of air from the outside got sucked in as if in a long prolonged
moan
. The lanterns flickered; men coughed from the swirling dust.

And the iron plate fell heavily away, revealing a doorway.

As the dust settled, Stjepan took the lead and entered within. Erim, Caider Ross, and Too Tall, now bearing lanterns and shouldering shovels and picks and bags of gear, followed next. As Leigh, Gilgwyr, Sir Helgi, and Arduin moved inside, Godewyn turned to Pallas Quinn and held up a hand.