Memories of Ice

well have sustained even further damage to our accoutrements, not to mention our less capable companions.'

'So,' Gruntle cut in, 'if not a demon, then what was it?'

'Ah, a question not easily answered, Captain. Undead, most certainly. Commanded by a distant master, and formidable in the extreme. Korbal and I were perforce required to unleash the full host of our servants to fend the apparition off, nor did the subsequent pursuit yield us any profit. Indeed, the loss of a good many of those servants was incurred, upon the appearance of two more of the undead hunters. And while the trio have been driven off, the relief is but temporary. They will attack again, and if they have gathered in greater numbers, we might well — all of us — be sorely tested.'

'If I may,' Gruntle said, 'I would like to speak in private with my master, and with Hetan, here.'

Bauchelain tilted his head. 'By all means. Come, Korbal and companions, let us survey the full damage to our hapless carriage.'

Taking Hetan's arm, Gruntle led her to where Harllo and Stonny waited beside Keruli's carriage. Cafal and Netok followed.

'They have enslaved our soul-kin,' Hetan hissed, her eyes like fanned coals. 'I will kill them — kill them all!'

'And die before you close a single step,' Gruntle snapped. 'These are sorcerers, Hetan. Worse, they're necromancers. Korbal practises the art of the undead. Bauchelain's is demonic summoning. The two sides of the skull-faced coin. Hood-cursed and foul … and deadly. Do you understand me? Don't even think of trying them.'

Keruli's voice emerged from the carriage, 'Even more poignantly, my friends, very soon, I fear, we will have need of those terrible men and their formidable powers.'

Gruntle turned with a scowl. The door's window shutter had been opened to a thin slit. 'What are these undead hunters, master? Do you know?'

There was a long pause before Keruli responded. 'I have … suspicions. In any case, they are spinning threads of power across this land, like a web, from which they can sense any tremor. We cannot pass undetected-'

'Then let us turn round,' Stonny snapped. 'Now, before it's too late.'

'But it already is,' Keruli replied. 'These undead servants continue to cross the river from the southlands, all in service to the Pannion Seer. They range ever closer to Saltoan. Indeed, I believe there are now more of them behind us than between here and Capustan.'

Hood-damned convenient, Master Keruli.

'We must,' the man within the carriage continued, 'fashion a temporary alliance with these necromancers — until we reach Capustan.'

'Well,' Gruntle said, 'they certainly view it as an obvious course to take.'

'They are practical men, for all their other … faults.'

'The Barghast will not travel with them,' Hetan snarled.

'I don't think we have any choice,' Gruntle sighed. 'And that includes you and your brothers, Hetan. What's the point of finding these undead hunters only to have them tear you to pieces?'

'You think we come unprepared for such battle? We stood long in the bone circle, Captain, whilst every shaman of the gathered clans danced the weft of power. Long in the bone circle.'

'Three days and three nights,' Cafal growled.

No wonder she damn near ripped my chest open last night.

Keruli spoke. 'It may prove insufficient, should your efforts draw the full attention of the Pannion Seer. Captain, how many days of travel before we reach Capustan?'

You know as well as I. 'Four, master.'

'Surely, Hetan, you and your brothers can achieve a certain stoicism for such a brief length of time? We well understand your outrage. The desecration of your sacred ancestors is an insult not easily accommodated. But, do not your own kind bow to a certain pragmatism in this regard as well? The inscribed wards, the sticksnares? Consider this an extension of such necessity …'

Hetan spat, turned away. 'It is as you say,' she conceded after a moment. 'Necessary. Very well.'

Gruntle returned to Bauchelain and the others. The two sorcerers were crouched down with the shattered axle between them. The stench of melted iron wafted up.

'Our repairs, Captain,' Bauchelain murmured, 'will not take long.'

'Good. You said there's three of these creatures out there — how far away?'

'Our small shaman friend keeps pace with the hunters. Less than a league, and I assure you, they can — if they so will it — cover that distance in a matter of a few hundred heartbeats. We will have little warning, but enough to muster a defence, I believe.'

'Why are you travelling to Capustan?'

The sorcerer glanced up, an eyebrow lifting. 'No particular reason. By nature, we wander. Upon arriving on the west coast of this continent, we set our sights eastward. Capustan is as far as we can travel east, yes?'

'Close enough, I suppose. The land juts further east to the south, beyond Elingarth, but the kingdoms and city states down there are little more than pirate and bandit holdings. Besides, you'd have to pass through the Pannion Domin to get there.'

'And I gather that would be trying.'

'You'd never make it.'

Bauchelain smiled, bent once more to concentrate on the axle.

Looking up, Gruntle finally caught Buke's eye. A slight head movement drew the man — reluctantly — off to one side.

'You're in trouble, friend,' the captain said in a low voice.

Buke scowled, said nothing — but the truth was evident in his eyes.

'When we reach Capustan, take the closing coin and don't look back. I know, Buke, you were right in your suspicions — I saw what was within the carriage. I saw. They'll do worse than kill you if you try anything. Do you understand? Worse.'

The man grinned wryly, squinted out to the east. 'You think we'll make it that far, do you, Gruntle? Well, surprise — we won't live to see the next dawn.' He fixed wild eyes on the captain. 'You wouldn't believe what my masters unleashed — such a nightmare menagerie of servants, guardians, spirit-slayers — and their own powers! Hood take us! Yet all of it barely managed to drive one of those beasts off, and when the other two arrived, we were the ones retreating. That menagerie is nothing but smouldering pieces scattered for leagues across the plain. Gruntle, I saw demons cut to shreds. Aye, these two look unshaken, but believe me, that's of no account. None at all.' He lowered his voice still further. 'They are insane, friend. Thoroughly, ice- blooded, lizard-eyed insane. And poor Mancy's been with them for three years now and counting — the stories he's told me …' The man shuddered.

'Mancy? Oh, Emancipor Reese. Where's the cat, by the way?'

Buke barked a laugh. 'Ran off — just like all our horses and we had an even dozen of them after those stupid bandits attacked us. Ran off, once I'd done prying its claws from Mancy's back, which was where it jumped when all the warrens broke loose.'

Repairs completed and carriage righted, the journey resumed. A league or two of daylight remained. Stonny once again rode to point, Cafal and Netok taking their places ranging on the flanks. Emancipor guided the carriage, the two sorcerers having retired within.

Buke and Gruntle walked a few paces ahead of Keruli's carriage, saying little for a long while, until the captain sighed heavily and glanced at his friend. 'For what it's worth, there's people who don't want to see you dead, Buke. They see you wasting away inside, and they care enough so that it pains them-'

'Guilt's a good weapon, Gruntle, or at least it has been for a long time. Doesn't cut any more, though. If you choose to care, then you better swallow the pain. I don't give a damn, myself.'

'Stonny-'

'Is worth more than messing herself up with me. I'm not interested in being saved, anyway. Tell her that.'

'You tell her, Buke, and when she puts her fist in your face just remember that I warned you here and now. You tell her — I won't deliver your messages of self-pity.'

'Back off, Gruntle. I'd hurt you bad before you finished using those cutlasses on me.'