taken care of, Strezyk,’ Razek said brusquely, gesturing to Neferata.
‘Oh?’ Strezyk glanced at Neferata, who stood. The other vampire stepped back a half-step, his eyes widening slightly. ‘Vorag mentioned newcomers, but–’
‘I bear the Strigoi no grudge for this,’ Razek continued, more formally. ‘Our negotiations will continue as planned.’
Strezyk opened his mouth as if to admonish the dwarf for speaking in front of Neferata, but then closed it with a snap. Collecting himself, he again looked at her. ‘And who might you be?’
‘Neferata of Lahmia,’ she said. Strezyk paused then shook himself.
‘Hetman Ushoran has been waiting for your arrival,’ he said, a patently false smile spreading across his broad features.
‘He was expecting us?’ Neferata said, slightly surprised.
‘Oh yes, he has been aware of your coming for many weeks now,’ Strezyk said smoothly. ‘I shall escort you to the High Lodge.’
Neferata’s thoughts crashed together fast and sharp. Was Ushoran then the cause of her visions? Was he compelling her to come to him somehow? Her hands clenched and her nails sank into her skin. The pain brought her back to herself a moment later. Was it Ushoran’s voice in her head, crooning to her?
‘He’s a greased spoke and no two ways there,’ Razek muttered, too low for Strezyk to hear. The armoured soldiers, the vojnuk according to what Vorag had taught her, formed up around them, not so close as to be insulting, but not so far as to be ignored.
‘Who is he?’ Neferata said.
‘The new king’s hearth-warden,’ Razek said, distaste evident.
Neferata grunted, understanding what he meant, though she had never heard the term before. So, Ushoran had his own Lord of Masks now, did he? Maybe Strezyk was more cunning than his master, but Neferata doubted it. ‘Tell me about the new king,’ she said.
‘Why don’t you tell me?’ Razek said, eyeing her. ‘He seems to be a friend of yours, eh?’
Neferata looked at the dwarf, but said nothing. King Ushoran. The thought was neither amusing, nor pleasant. In Lahmia, Ushoran had served as her shadowed left hand, as Abhorash was her strong right one. It was Ushoran who had gathered those who were chosen to sacrifice their lives and blood to the Lahmian Court, so that the sun would rise and the world would turn and the city prosper. It was Ushoran who had failed to find Alcadizzar after the latter had escaped her clutches and it was Ushoran who had ruined everything by turning Nagash’s eye upon them.
Ushoran had destroyed Lahmia. He had destroyed her kingdom and now, he welcomed her to his. One way or another, she was determined to make him regret it. She turned back to the city. The streets of Mourkain were like lines drawn on parchment, crossing one another over and over again. The city was a spiral of stone, with crude thatch huts and lean-tos giving way to more sturdy stone dwellings and finally the great buildings that seemed to form the heart of the city. The streets were choked with the smells and sights and sounds of a thriving, vibrant metropolis.
The Strigoi were an uncivilised-looking folk, but sturdy. Hardy, even, and their blood pumped bright in their veins as Neferata examined them. They all carried weapons, even the lowest among them, and they were a pale folk, with dark hair. A young people, as hers judged such things, barely out of the mire of the caves. But they had accomplished much in a short period of time.
And all, apparently, without the help of the gods; she saw no sign of temples or priests. The priestess in her rebelled at the thought… though she had long since turned from her own gods, the idea of them not even being represented was hard to grasp. Indeed, it was a weakness. A people with no faith were open to exploitation. She gave a soft laugh. These were thoughts for the future.
As they moved through the city, Neferata’s followers rejoined her, slipping between Strezyk’s men to form a barrier between their mistress and the armoured warriors. The column thinned as they approached the centre of the city; Vorag’s men stayed behind, in the lower streets, but Strezyk led Neferata and her companions on. The burly vampire gave her a grin and a wave as he departed. He had noticed Strezyk’s presence, and seemed to know what it meant. Abhorash and his two men, however, followed at a distance, staying a respectful distance from Strezyk’s group. She wondered if her former champion thought that she might try