Born of Darkness (William King) - William King Page 0,17
doubtless it will kill again. We need to find some way of dealing with it.”
“We shall, brother. Have faith. The Light will reveal the path to us.”
“I think your brother is troubled by concerns about your safety, sire,” said Jonas. “What if this creature was sent to slay you? What if it is a demon bound to pursue this ungodly task.”
“If it is my time to walk into the Light, it is my time, old friend. I am not afraid.”
“We have summoned Abbot Gerd of the Order of the Dawn’s Trefal Chapter House,” Prince Taran said. The familiar name startled Kormak. It could not be the same Gerd, could it? “I have brought the second and sixth regiments in from their barracks to reinforce the guards in the palace. It would perhaps be best, if we found you alternative accommodations.”
Kormak wondered if there had been some collusion between Jonas and the Prince in bringing this matter up.
“No,” Aemon said. “I will not be driven from my palace by the forces of Shadow. No demon can penetrate the sanctity of the Cathedral. I will spend my time there, praying for the creature’s defeat.”
Taran seemed so satisfied that Kormak wondered if this was what he had been seeking all along. “Very well. Sir Kormak what would you recommend we do?”
“Once Abbot Gerd arrives I will requisition the things that I need. He has men trained to deal with situations like this. Till then, seal the entrances to the catacombs, let no one in or out without approval. Keep torches burning. Flame hurts the Old Ones as much as sunlight. I will place elder signs of salt to reinforce the wards.”
“There are prisoners down there—heretics, traitors, all manner of scum.”
“They should be brought out.”
“I had not taken you for such a soft-hearted man,” said Taran. “Why be concerned about such scum? The catacombs are huge and not every prisoner is accounted for. We’d need to risk sending soldiers down as well.”
“If the creature feeds on the prisoners it may well grow stronger,” Kormak said.
All of the faces around the table looked horrified. Prince Taran said, “I shall see what can be done. Anything else?”
“Send the soldiers in large companies with every man carrying a torch and oil flasks. If they come across the creature they can keep it at bay with them. They should not engage unless they have to and they should withdraw as fast as they can.”
“As you say. What next?”
“Once I have spoken to the abbot I will go below and investigate the sarcophagus.”
“So until then we wait.”
“Better to do that than to send more men to their deaths seeking a monster they cannot kill.”
“Indeed,” said King Aemon. “If there is anything you require from us, Sir Kormak you have only to ask my brother and he will provide it. I shall return now to the Cathedral and pray for the confounding of our Shadow worshipping foes.
Kormak suspected it would take more than prayers to do that. He wondered where the creature was now and what it was doing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IN THE SHADOWS beneath the palace the Old One waited. It banged its head against the stonework and howled with frustration. Why could it not remember who it was or where it had come from? It could recall only an eternity of imprisonment in the metal coffin. It had endured a centuries-long nightmare of entrapment, far from the light of the Moon, far from the agony of prey.
When the coffin lid loosened and it sprang forth to strike, it had been near mindless. Instinct had taken over and it had shifted into new shapes to take advantage of its freedom and attack.
After its escape it remembered fighting and fear as light burned it and it fled from the mortals. Something told it that it should not have happened. Those squawling hairless apes were born to be its slaves.
Its leg hurt where the mortal’s poisonous blade had struck. The wound refused to heal despite all the instinctive magic it had brought to bear.
It had shrugged off the blows of the other apes. The cuts inflicted by their weapons had closed almost instantly. Only that accursed sword with its deadly runes had caused any lasting harm.
A rat scurried by. The Old One sprang, impaling the rodent on a dagger-like claw. It flicked the tiny corpse into its distended mouth and crunched down with sharp teeth. Bones broke. Blood trickled down its throat. Along with the taste of brain tissue came a surge of