Some of the humans had soiled themselves. One youth was dead, drained of all he could give. Jaderac pulled out the needle tipped tubing from his heart and arms and rolled him onto the floor. Hopefully the body-snatchers would bring a new one tonight. According to the grimoires, he had already fed the Nerghul enough blood, but in Jaderac’s long experience it was better to be safe than sorry.
It came to him suddenly that someone was watching him. The hairs on the back of his head rose. He turned to look at a young Terrarch woman disguised as a man. How long had she been there, Jaderac wondered.
“Oh, do sit down,” said Tamara. “You’re pacing like a caged leopard. I find it quite enervating just looking at you.”
Jaderac gave her one of his coolest smiles. He studied her, puzzled as always by her manners. Her enigmatic father was his closest ally at court and she shared Malkior's intelligence and his breeding, but there were some distinctly unusual things about her. He found them all disturbing.
There was her habit of slipping away at odd times of night, and the way she gave even the best of his watchdogs the slip. He worried about her. If anything should happen to her while she was here, it might cause a rift with her father, and that was the last thing he could afford at the moment. He needed Malkior’s aid against the Lord Chancellor and his clique within the Brotherhood. Xephan had proven himself a mighty sorcerer and a master of intrigue. Jaderac needed powerful allies against such a dangerous foe and Malkior was the most formidable of all those available. He was determined to win back his old position at the Queen-Empress’s court and maintain control of the Brotherhood. Malkior would prove very useful to Jaderac as he schemed to do so, so long as no harm befell his darling daughter.
There was going to be war, and war meant spoils. The Empire was going to expand. New territories would be annexed, whole cities plundered. Jaderac had no use for land and wealth for their own sake, but they were important markers of status, tokens of success in the game that all Terrarchs played.
“Where were you the tonight?” he asked.
“I was talking to the young man your agents told you about.”
Jaderac controlled his anger. “You went out on your own again?”
“It’s so damnably boring being cooped up in this mansion.”
“So you decided to head for the lowest part of town?”
“Why Lord Jaderac, I do believe you have been spying on me.”
“I am merely concerned for your safety. I do wish you would not set out on these nocturnal adventures. Surely you can find something to amuse you within these walls.”
“Are you offering your own services, my Lord?”
“We are alone,” he said. “There is no need to keep up the pretence of being the lovesick convent girl. I know quite well in which direction your tastes run.”
Tamara looked amused. “Do you, my Lord? It hurts to think I am so transparent.”
She was about as far from transparent as it was possible to get, quite the most baffling female he had ever encountered. He had considered using his sorcery to keep track of her but that would be an unconscionable distraction at this point, particularly with Lady Asea in the vicinity. He realised that somehow she had managed to change the subject on him again.
“If he is her lover he could have killed you. Her lovers have been assassins before.”
“I think I managed to take his mind off killing me at least for tonight.” No need to ask how she had done that.
“What did you find out?” he asked, to change the subject.
“I am certain he is Lady Asea’s lover.”
“We already knew that. He spends part of each evening in her tent or her chambers. At least she is discrete enough to kick him out before morning.”
“I also have something you might want.” She held out her narrow hand. A single silvery hair lay in it.
“Perhaps I am a little obtuse, but why exactly should I want that.”
“We have not been able to get anything connected with Lady Asea: no hair, no blood, no nail clippings, not even any item of old apparel.”
“Of course we have not. She is too skilled a sorceress ever to let those fall into enemy hands.”
“But we have got something connected with him.”
Jaderac allowed himself a small smile. He was starting to see where this was going. “Go on.”
“Our agent in the house can signal when he visits her. We simply send the monster you are creating to kill him and instruct it to kill anyone that’s with him.”
Jaderac turned the idea over and over in his mind. Providing they unleashed his creation at the correct hour it would work. Asea would be with her lover and her mind would surely not be focused on defence at that hour and under those circumstances. His pet would need only seconds to accomplish both their deaths.
“Give me that,” he said, taking the hair and putting it gingerly into a glass preservative jar. He spoke the words of sealing as soon as the stopper was in place. In its way this was a precious thing, a spoor to pass before the great hunting beast he would soon unleash. “I believe you have got it. The Queen-Empress will reward us both mightily for encompassing Asea’s death.”
Tamara’s smile answered his, and then for a second she frowned. “A pity about that young man,” she said. “I rather liked him. He was quite ruthless and amoral but I liked him.”
You liked him because he reminded you of yourself, Jaderac thought, but kept the thought to himself. He was excited by the plan she had outlined. In only a few more days, the greatest enemy of the Empress would be dead, and he would feted for it. And Tamara, of course, for the small part she had played in it.
“If you will excuse me, I have work to do,” he said, moving closer to the great sarcophagus and starting to croon slow, deadly spells in the old tongue of the Terrarchs.
Chapter Fourteen
Sardec woke from another dream of the dark spaces where the Spider God lurked. He reached for his face with his hand, and was once again surprised when the cold metal of his hook touched his cheek. The dreams were getting stranger. He had seen visions of Serpent Men and Ultari doing battle under a green tinged sky. The great tower flashed beams of devastating emerald light while huge insect winged spawn of Uran Ultar swirled around it. He had watched nightmarish combat in a time before any Terrarch had walked this land, fought with all the ferocity of the Elder Ages.
He wondered if he should talk to Asea about the dreams. Perhaps some mystical connection had been established between him and the Spider God in Deep Achenar. Or perhaps he was sensitive to the oppressive presence of that massive Serpent Man artefact out there. Or it might just be his own imagination. The battle in that lost city deep below the surface of Gaeia had been enough to give anyone nightmares.
He rose from the bed, and threw open the windows. In the courtyard, men sprawled around the well, cleaning their weapons, patching their clothes, gossiping and chatting. Servants came and went through the open doors, bringing food and washing. A peddler sold pies from a basket. Sergeant Hef chatted with Corporal Toby in the early morning sun. It all looked normal and reassuring and not at all like his apocalyptic dreams.