'Tell them to keep their eyes open,' Isak said, pointing down the empty road leading towards the heart of the city. 'I have a bad feeling about all this; tell them to be ready to raise the alarm.'
Mikiss sat in the broken chair and sank slowly into its cushioned back. They were in the cellars of the house, a damp, cramped net¬work of rooms that served as home for Isherin Purn and his servant Nai. The smell of mould and stone was overlaid by the scent of dead vegetation and dank earth which crept in through a grille near the ceiling. There was no one else around as far as Mikiss could tell, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that they were not entirely alone. A presence seemed to linger in the dim corridors and gently creaking rooms above; Mikiss knew nothing about necromancers and had no wish to, but his imagination was producing any number of alarming ideas.
'What you thinking about, sir?' Shart asked from opposite Mikiss. 'You're looking kinda spooked over there.'
'Aren't you? You do remember what our host's calling entails?'
'Sure,' Shart chuckled.
'And you don't find it at all unnerving?'
The soldier grinned, chiefly out of amusement at Mikiss' discomfort,
'Of course all this daemon crap is weird, but you serve in the Cheme Third and you get used to it after a while.'
Mikiss had guessed as much from the stories they had told him on the journey north. The Cheme Third Legion was Lord Styrax's favourite, made up of men he trusted above even the Bloods worn and the Reavers.
'Also,' Major Amber growled from the corner of the room, a brown earthenware bottle clamped firmly in his lap, 'the whole stench-of-death thing becomes familiar enough when you serve in the Third. Us three have holed up together with a nice pile of corpses keeping us warm before; had to, else we'd have been caught and spitted.' His eyes were fixed on the bottle in front of him; from the way the man had been pulling on it, Mikiss guessed it was almost empty. 'You watch a man you know go through various stages of decomposition and death becomes just another comrade.'
Mikiss watched the oil lamps flicker. They were turned low, just enough for him to make out the lines and corners of the room. The door to the room was open, in the vain hope of a breeze; from where Mikiss was sitting he could see the dim light from the cramped kitchen where Nai was preparing something for his master. Somewhere beyond that, sheathed in shadow, was the door to Isherin Purn's study, a room Mikiss never wanted to see inside.
'Karkarn's horn,' Shart exclaimed, 'you're being miserable tonight – if you don't mind me saying so, sir. Stench of death and presence of daemons aside, we've got food I can recognise bits of, drink so we don't care what the rest of the food is, and we can make Keneg sleep in a different room to us. In my book, that puts us well ahead of where we were yesterday.'
Ah, this house puts me on edge; this whole damn city puts me on edge.' The major grimaced. 'Don't any of you feel it?'
'Feel what? All I feel is this heat.'
'The…' Amber's voice tailed off as he gestured vaguely in the air. 'I don't know what it is exactly but there's something-'
He didn't get any further as a scream pierced the night air. They all jumped up, scrambling for the weapons they'd left propped against the wall. Mikiss caught himself on the arm of the chair he'd been sitting in and careened into Shart, who ploughed through Mikiss, knocking him out of the way and not missing a step as he went for his axe. From outside they heard men shouting, more than a lew, and deeper sounds Mikiss could not place; sounds that reached down into his gut.
'Shart, keep with Mikiss,' Amber snapped. His yellowy eyes glowed in the weak light.
'Prefer to be outside, sir,' Shart commented, his eyes not leaving the doorway where Keneg was standing ready with both hands wrapped around the hilt of his brutal sword. 'No room to swing in here.' Shart hefted his axe, raising it so the head banged against the cellar's low ceiling. The commotion outside continued, more screams, more shouts. A great hissing began from near the grille, a sibilant rustle of dry leaves and withered skin.
'Fair enough, just keep tight,' Major Amber said. 'Sounds like Purn's got some tricks, so don't go looking for trouble because it might not understand friend or foe. The trapdoor is barred so we go up into the house. You two lead and get to the outside door, see what you can see. We'll go up a floor and look out over the back. Keep your ears open and don't stray into the grounds.'
The brothers led out into the corridor, past Nai, who was busy mur-muring and making strange gestures over a blank wall. With a start, Mikiss realised that the wall had been the door to Purn's study only a few moments ago.
The spell completed, Nai turned to face them, a purposeful expres-sion on his face and an iron-tipped club in his hands. 'I doubt they will make it to the house,' he said with grim certainty, stalking past the soldiers and heading for the stairway that led up into the house. A great yawning groan suddenly cut through the clamour from outside, followed by a pair of heavy thumps, then the shouting came back with renewed intensity.
'That might prove unfortunate,' Nai said to no one in particular. The soldiers exchanged glances, but kept silent as they followed him into the old kitchen. The only reminder of the room's former role was a great iron stove, rusted into uselessness by years of rain sweeping In through the shattered window. Someone had nailed up a lew boards so there was no gap large enough for a person to climb through, but there were gaps to see a little of outside. As Mikiss trailed in he pulled out his own sword, as much for comfort as anything else.
Nai, peering between boards, said, 'Looks like locals. My master's pels will soon see them off – ah, they're running in all direction'. Some are making lor the courtyard.'
'Pitchforks and flaming brands?' Shart asked. Nai gave the soldier a deeply unfriendly look as the brothers shared a snigger and barrelled out of the rear door.
Mikiss heard a cry of alarm break off as Keneg roared, then the clash of steel, followed by shrieks.
Major Amber grabbed Mikiss by the shoulder and gave him a shove towards the door. 'Come on, then, sir, just your average angry mob. You've been trained, they haven't. Stick close to me and you'll be fine.' There wasn't time to argue even if Mikiss had dared, as he found himself swept along into the courtyard where Keneg and Shart were facing down half a dozen men. Two more were already down, lying there clutching their wounds and screaming.
Mikiss realised that Amber was right, so he raised his sword and ran at the nearest enemy. Swords took training, clubs didn't; the man raised his weapon preparing to smash it down on Mikiss, only to find Mikiss' blade buried in his gut. On the right, Amber was wielding his two blades with lethal efficiency, catching a club on one and hacking into his assailant's knee with the other, then following that up with a blow to the man's neck when he fell to the ground, wailing like a child.
Suddenly there was a bright burst of flame. Everyone hesitated, turning to see what had happened.
Mikiss looked around the illuminated grounds and saw men stand¬ing in groups wherever there were gaps in the vegetation, wildly fight¬ing off the strange figures assailing them. One such group was being attacked by three bony, bloody figures dressed in rags. They had no weapons that Mikiss could see, but one stopped a club in mid-swing, then swiped a palm across the man's face with such force the man spun around and collapsed in a heap on top of one of his comrades.
But the weirdness of that little group paled into insignificance next to what was going on in the centre of the grounds, where a creature something like a massive hairless bear stood hacking at anyone within reach of the double-headed axes it brandished in each hand. When it had cleared a circle, it leapt, a clear ten yards in one stride, and began again.