Two more advanced towards him: the leader of the group and a tall man brandishing an axe. Behind them, the man with the broken nose was shaking blood from his face, but he still carried his sword. One more was struggling up from underneath the corpse of his comrade.
Time to show off, Vesna thought, sucking in as much air as he could manage. He tossed his dagger up in the air, transferring his broadsword from right hand to left while the dagger spun through the night. Instinctively the men watched it looping lazily up. This was a duellist's trick, one that relied on sleight of hand as much as skill to succeed. Vesna swept a low cut through the air between them and the pair instinctively hesitated and lowered their weapons to follow.
Vesna grinned as he felt the dagger slap down into his right palm and he hurled it at the taller man's unguarded chest. Without arms or axe to avoid, it was an easy throw; it caught him straight in the heart. To his credit the leader didn't turn as his man gasped and staggered, but it made little difference now that he was alone. Bringing his hands together, Vesna traded two blows before nicking the man's forearm. The injury only put the leader off balance, but the next cut neatly opened his throat.
Vesna dislodged his sword with a grunt of effort and assessed the remaining enemies. Kill and move. The choice was easy as the man whose nose he'd broken ran forward, yelling his fury. Vesna turned the blade aside and checked him with his shoulder, almost knocking the man off his feet. The novice staggered back a step, his eyes widening with horror as Vesna's sword ripped across his gut then hacked into his neck.
Five men left, all injured. The one he'd speared first lay where he'd fallen, unmoving, so Vesna discounted him. Another had fallen to his knees, hands over his belly, and was making some sort of a mewling sound. Vesna dismissed him too; no one carried on after a sword to the gut. Of the last three, one had a ruined knee, and two were standing, weapons ready, but both favouring one arm. The younger looked far from confident about using his left hand so Vesna made it easy for him. He ran forward and cut down the other two with ease before stepping clear once more.
'You,' he roared, pointing at the last novice left standing, 'drop that now and you'll live.'
The man looked at his kneeling comrade and saw he was effectively alone. He let the weapon fall to the floor and raised his hands in surrender. In the blink of an eye the shadows behind the man boiled with activity and a figure stepped forward from the darkness. A weapon flashed, once, twice, and the two remaining novices fell, headless.
Vesna gave a cry of surprise and stumbled backwards, his sword already raised, but the newcomer only laughed, while his black robes whipped all around him like living shadows.
'Apologies, but there could be no witnesses.'
'What is going on?' the count demanded. 'Who are you?'
The figure stopped and sheathed his black-bladed sword with a flourish. Vesna focused, and found himself face to face with a hairless young man a little taller than he was. He had a tattoo of bloody teardrops falling from his right eye.
Oh Gods, that's no tattoo…
Vesna dropped to one knee, his limbs shaking from the exertion of the fight, but still obeying him. 'Lord Karkarn.'
The God of War surveyed the slaughter surrounding Vesna with an expression of professional satisfaction. 'You fought well. I am impressed.'
'Thank you, my Lord.' Vesna coughed, watching the blood tears fall in horrified fascination. He knew there would be fifteen, one for each of the slain. Piss and daemons, please let there be only fifteen.
'Ah, how did you know, my Lord, that they were going to ambush me here?'
'I arranged it, of course,' Karkarn snapped, his face shimmering in a brief moment of anger, almost as though underneath this face was another that had briefly asserted itself, the Berserker Aspect of the War God. Vesna remembered the six temples in the heart of Scree whose Gods had been worst affected by the chaos there. Karkarn was one of them.
Merciful Gods, don't let the Berserker out, he prayed silently. I won't survive that.
'Have I offended you, my Lord?' Vesna bowed his head as he spoke, not daring to see the reaction to his words.
'Not at all – you've pleased me. But I had to test your abilities. I was right to think that one group wouldn't be enough, too,' Karkarn said dispassionately. 'A good thing I brought those two together, I think.'
'Ah, my Lord, you're testing me?'
'Stand up, Count Vesna,' Karkarn commanded, his voice suddenly booming, resonating with the weight of centuries.
Shakily, the count did as he was ordered.
'The heresy of Scree has nicked me – no great a wound, but one I cannot ignore, and one that festers in the blood of my priests. It fell to me to defend the Gods at the Last Battle, to lead the charge that broke the enemy, and that cost me dearly. I do not intend to allow such a thing to happen ever again.' There was a growl of barely restrained fury as he spoke.
Vesna nodded hurriedly to show he understood.
'Good. It is clear there are forces at work that go unnoticed by divine eyes. I need a mortal agent to protect the interests of the Gods/
Karkarn stepped forward and looked hard into Vesna's eyes. The God had iris-less eyes the colour of steel. As he breathed, Vesna recognised the foetid stench of the battlefield.
'I- I don't understand what you are asking of me. I'm no Chosen, Lord, I'm no white-eye.'
'My faith in the Chosen has paled,' Karkarn said, his lip curling with anger. 'I intend for my agent to be more than just a warrior, I need a leader of men a general to take the fight to our enemy.'
'You want me?' Vesna asked, too dazed to think straight.
Karkarn nodded. 'I want you to be my Mortal-Aspect. You will be the general and hero that all warriors need.'
'Mortal-Aspect? To become part of you?' Vesna's mind was a blank as he stared at the blood-streaked face of a God he'd only ever prayed to in desperation. 'But mortal?'
'To share in my power, but to remain living the life you are.' From somewhere under his robe the God produced a glittering gemstone that he held up to the weak moonlight. It looked like a ruby, a tear-drop faceted shape half the length of his thumb.
'The tear of a God. Take this and keep it with you. When you accept my offer, cut your cheek with its tip.'
'And then?'
Karkarn gave him a cold and terrible smile. 'And then you will become part of me, both God and mortal. Do not think there will be no price for my gifts – but the rewards will be eternal.'
Without waiting for a reply, Karkarn stepped backwards and was swallowed by the boiling shadows once more. Vesna blinked and stared straight ahead. The street was empty, shrouded in grim silence.
'The tear of a God?' he wondered aloud, bending to wipe his sword on the nearest corpse. He hissed with pain as he pulled the cut on the side of his head. He wiped the sword clean and sheathed it before retrieving his nicked dagger. The actions were mechanical, ingrained by so many years of habit. Once the dagger was clean Vesna gave the battered weapon an affectionate pat before stowing it away in his belt.
'The tear of a God,' he repeated, wincing again. He looked at the carnage all around him. 'Right now, I'd prefer a horse.'
Mihn tied his horse to the wrought-iron archway that served as the entrance to the small park and walked inside. Death's Gardens backed onto an ancient shrine to Death that pre-dated the city's principal temple. It was surrounded by a waist-high stone wall and a tall bank of laurel hedges. Once inside it was easy to feel as though one had left the city completely. In the darkness not even the city's towers were visible. Mihn struggled to make out the gravel path now the yellowy light of Alterr had been covered by cloud.
The quiet crackle of a fire cut through the night and he let his ears guide him in the right direction. The witch had pitched a double-layered tent towards the far end, strung underneath three yews that had grown together to create three-quarters of an uneven dome. He set off down the path, but had gone barely a dozen paces before a deep voice spoke out from the shadows.