Stealer of Flesh - By William King Page 0,2

at the last. No. He would not give up. Gracelessly, he pulled himself into the saddle of his horse. The beast protested against his weight. It was just as tired as he was. No matter, he pulled on the reins and it reared. He gave it the command to kick and it brought its weight crashing down against the gate. He doubted the owners of this place would be too pleased by what he was doing but he had other concerns on his mind. The horse hammered the gate again and again but could not budge it. It seemed like the gateway had been built to withstand a battering ram. Kormak kept at it until the horse could do no more.

He slumped from the saddle, wearily, all of his energy gone. He thought he heard voices beyond the gate and tried to rise, but his limbs betrayed him. Dizziness swept over him and darkness took him.

He awoke in a bed. It was hard and lumpy but it was warm. He was inside in a room with wooden shutters and heavy drapes and a fire burning in one corner. Blankets and furs had been piled on top of him. The first thing he did was look around for his sword.

“Be still, stranger,” said a wheezy old voice. “You are exhausted and you may well have suffered some damage at your extremities where the frosts spirits nibbled on your fingers and toes.”

The accent was an odd one, but it spoke the trade tongue of the Holy Road understandably. Kormak looked up and saw a tall, skinny old man with a forked beard looking down on him. He had a candle on a plate in one hand. Many, many amulets dangled from his neck. All of them were covered in Elder Signs and mystic symbols; so were the dozens of rings on his fingers. A huge, armoured soldier in a surcoat with a rampant griffon stood behind him.

“Where am I?” Kormak asked.

“It is lamentable the clichés to which men resort in situations like this,” said the old man in his wheezing voice.

“Are you going to answer my question or indulge in literary criticism?” said Kormak.

“You are in the mansion of Lord Tomas of Malaride,” said the old man. Kormak kept his face carefully blank. Lord Tomas was the man who had sent the thieves to steal the amphora. It seemed he had stumbled into the place he was seeking. It was hardly surprising. It was where he had been trying to reach.

“Am I back on the Holy Road then?”

“You are lucky to be alive,” the old man said.

“This I know,” said Kormak. “How did I get here?”

“We heard the banging at the gate. Tarsus here insisted we investigate. He thought it might be orcs attacking,” said the soldier. He was a massive man with a shaven skull that showed a lot of old scars. “A very nervous man is our friend Tarsus. For all his claims to be able to read the stars and see the future, he never foresaw it would be you and not orcs.”

“Orcs have not been seen in these parts since the Nations went east at the end of the war,” said Kormak.

“You know that. I know that. Apparently our scholarly friend here does not,” said the guard.

“Be silent, Marcus,” said the wizard. “You speak only to sneer at those more educated than you.”

“Where is my sword?” Kormak asked.

“I trust you are not planning on using it on this wizened ancient. It would seem singularly ungrateful after he has saved your life,” said Marcus.

“I have no reason to do that,” said Kormak. Perhaps, he thought. Not yet.

“What are you doing in these parts?” The guard clearly knew something of the function of his order. “I have heard rumours that there are wolves that walk like men out there in the Mountains of Darkness. It seems the moondogs have rebelled against their liege lord, King Sturmbrand of Valkyria and those spawn of evil Lunar magic aid them. Do you seek them?”

“My sword. Where is it?”

Tarsus tipped his head to one side and inspected Kormak as if seeing him for the first time. “You are a Guardian of the Order of the Dawn,” he said.

“I am.”

“The Order of Assassins,” the wizard added. His tone was a little hostile now.

“Such is not our function but I could understand why a wizard might see things that way.”

“That’s very generous of you,” said Tarsus.

“I see you are intent on giving this ancient reprobate cause