Born of Darkness (William King) - William King Page 0,21
EIGHT
THEY MADE THEIR way down the stairwell into the catacombs. The green glow of Rhiana’s pearl gave as much light as the smoke-spluttering torches. The smell of oil and burning rag drifted through the close air. Shadows danced away from them. Moss clung to the walls and emerged from gaps between the paving stones.
The dogs snarled. The biggest, Balthus and Slasher, eyed the small one, Fang, as if considering him for a meal. Fang growled back at them, undaunted by their size.
“You sure you remember the way,” Gerd asked.
“Yes,” Kormak said.
“I recall how you got us lost in the night marches round Aethelas.”
“You were the one leading.”
“Still trying to shift the blame I see. You’d think that after all these years you would just admit it.”
“I take it you two have known each other for some time,” Rhiana said.
“Since he was dragged to Mount Aethelas as a snot-nosed pup by Master Malan. Although, come to think of it, that was before Malan became a Master,” said Gerd. “He was a troublemaker even then I can tell you. Started a fight the day he arrived. Would have got handed his sorry ass as well, if I had not pulled him out of it.”
Rhiana looked at Kormak. He shook his head.
“He can shake his head all he likes but he knows it’s true.”
“Gerd always talks when he’s nervous,” Kormak said.
“I am not nervous. I am scared shitless. I saw what that thing did to you and I am not carrying a dwarf-forged blade.”
The dog-handler looked at the abbot, appalled. Kormak wondered if he had ever heard Gerd express himself in quite this way before. Or perhaps it was just the confession of fear that had him worried.
The steps ended and they were on the level of the vaults now.
“I am surprised the King-Emperor trusts you to come down here,” Gerd said. “Aquileans are famous for their looting.”
“The King of Siderea obviously does not share your Taurean prejudices.”
“He has his own. He does not need any of mine.”
“I always heard that Aemon was a saint.”
“Cast your mind back to your scripture lessons and you will recall that not a few of the saints were vicious bastards. His hands were stained crimson and he bathed in the blood of heretics. That was written about Saint Aloysius, not coincidentally known as the Bloody-Handed.”
“The stories I have heard all say Aemon is a humble man and a great temple builder. He gives alms to the poor and he heals the sick. I’ve not seen anything yet that makes me disbelieve that.”
Gerd looked over his shoulder then at the dog-handler then at Rhiana. “You are just trying to get me into trouble, aren’t you, Kormak? Always the bloody same with you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It would not surprise me if, even down here, Aemon’s bloody brother had eavesdroppers.”
“So?”
“What do you want me to say? That the King builds temples and gives alms to the poor to ingratiate himself with the people? He does it because the nobles hate him for limiting their privileges and building a professional army. The preachers’ sermons praise the King’s virtues because he pays for their stipends as well as their temples.”
“I have met Aemon. He does not seem so cynical.”
“You have met Aemon so you think the same as me. King Aemon believes in the Light of the Holy Sun and in the Angel Zhamriel’s blessing. But most of all he believes in the righteousness of King Aemon. Not least of the believers in the sainthood of King Aemon is King Aemon.”
It surprised Kormak to hear his old friend speak so strongly on the subject. “I just hope that your lady friend here is not a spy in the pay of our saintly king,” said Gerd. “I know I can trust Rodric here. I owe him too much in gambling debts for him to want me dead.”
Rodric looked scandalised. Rhiana said, “Your secrets are safe with me.”
Kormak felt tempted to tell Gerd that she had been an agent of the King-Emperor back in Port Blood. Just for a moment, he wondered if she still considered herself such. Perhaps that was why she was here now.
As they approached the vault, the dogs began to whine. It was alarming hearing beaten-puppy noises coming from the throats of those fierce beasts. Shadowhounds had been bred for generations to hunt monsters through the stink of blights. Nothing was supposed to frighten them. Both the bigger dogs were reluctant to proceed. Fang bared his teeth and