appealed to his vanity in a strange way. If he walked away now, he would never know what he was capable of, whether he could defy the power of an ancient race and one of the greatest sorcerers of the Terrarchs. This was his chance to become a wealthy hero. It meant risking his life but then he did that on the battlefield whenever the regiment marched to war. He could be killed by a stray bullet in the street tomorrow, or in his bed by a Nerghul tonight, if the creature returned.
He knew then, as that thought sidled into his head, that his mind was made up. He would risk the Tower, and rescue the Princess if he could. Weasel and the Barbarian loomed over him.
“We’re off to see our friendly local fence,” said Weasel. “We’re to make sure everything you need is ready. Her Ladyship wants to see you. Looks like tonight’s the night for whatever she is planning.”
Rik’s heart skipped a beat. Too soon, he thought. Too soon.
Sardec drank his morning tea. He was angry and not a little shocked. Jaderac, and he was sure it was Jaderac, had dared to use the foulest of sorcery against the person he was supposed to protect. The Nerghul was a creature of the vilest kind, created by the darkest magic. He had not needed Asea’s explanations to realise that. He had seen the thing with his own eyes.
It had killed two of his men, and some of the camp followers within the walls of this very townhouse. It has almost killed him and Asea and the others. He felt like storming off to Jaderac’s mansion, spitting in his face and challenging him to a duel, but he had no proof. Jaderac could simply deny the charge and there was nothing he could do about it except be killed in a duel in which the Easterner would have choice of weapons. That would not keep Asea safe or let him perform his duty. He swore to the Light that if he got the chance he would get even with Jaderac though.
He wondered if Lord Azaar had got his letter yet, telling of the power of the green light. Doubtless that would cause a sensation in the camp. His next missive concerning the Nerghul would cause a greater stir. It was the first evidence of what they had all suspected, that the Easterners were prepared to use the most despicable of magic in the pursuit of their goals.
For the first time he paused to consider that Talorea really might lose this war. He believed with some certainty that the Scarlet armies were better trained, better motivated and better equipped than their Purple opponents, but that was only part of the story. Such magic as the Easterners possessed might well tip the battle in their favour. If they were prepared to use necromancy, then they would be able to send Nerghul assassins and field regiments of the walking dead against the armies of the West. Would his own men stand their ground in the face of such things?
Sardec believed the answer was yes. They had held their ground beneath Deep Achenar in the face of Elder World horrors. They had stood firm in the face of the Nerghul last night. In both cases they had bought victory with their own blood, and his people were not without their own magic. Who knew what Asea was capable of when she put her mind to it?
None of this was getting him anywhere and there were matters at hand that needed his fullest attention. He needed to make sure the defences were reinforced, that the sentries were redoubled. He had sent Corporal Toby off to find a supply of truesilver bullets. They would be handed out to every man. The money would have to come from his own pocket, but it would be worth it. He intended to see that they were properly prepared if another creature of darkness came at them out of the night.
He glanced up at the Tower. A greenish glow flowed through its walls, dimly visible even in the daylight. Its ominous spire glared down at them; reminding him that there was nothing at all he could do, if Ilmarec decided to sweep them from the face of the earth. Something was going to have to be done about that but for the life of him, he could not think what.
Rik looked up from the maps. He was sick and tired of studying them, of running over all the details of the preparations for the attempt on the Tower. And he was nervous now that the event was almost on top of them. Weasel and the Barbarian had been dispatched to finalise the preparations with Black Tomar. If all went well, he would be making the attempt on the Tower today. It seemed too soon, but they had run out of time. None of his arguments swayed Asea. She feared the build-up of power within the Tower. The effort had to be made now, before Ilmarec got a chance to carry out his threat against Azaar’s army.
Asea had chosen to entrust Weasel and the Barbarian with some of the secrets of the mission. Even though she had made it clear to them that the threat of the Inquisition hung over their heads too, Rik was not sure he liked that. He told himself that they were reliable, that it was just his ingrained habit of secrecy that made him nervous about it, but it did not help. His nerves were badly on edge. He wanted a distraction, any distraction.
“What was that thing last night — really?” Rik asked Asea. He was still troubled by what he had seen, and that made him curious.
“It was a Nerghul,” she said, staring at the collection of items that lay on top of a silk sheet in front of her.
“That helps,” he said. “I already knew the name. If only I knew what a Nerghul was, I would be fully informed.”
“Curiosity about such things is an error,” she said. He considered this. He was tired, and he was short tempered, but it would not do to forget himself in her presence.
“Please indulge me, milady. I want to understand a little about the thing that almost killed me.”
“You would do better to concentrate on those maps, and the nature of the compounds I have provided you with.”
“If I do not know these things by now, I never will.”
She sighed. “Nerghul are creations of the darkest sort of necromantic sorcery. Grown from the tissue of corpses, mingled with essences drained from certain demons and the blood of humans and Terrarch. They grow in vats of alchemicals, saturated with energies created by sorcerous engines.”
He asked the question that was on his mind. “How do you kill it?”
“You can’t. It’s already dead.”
“How would I stop it then, end its existence?”
“Very strong magic. Enormous amounts of damage. Fire usually harms things of darkness, particularly those that cannot stand the light. Truesilver would help. It would disrupt the flow of necromantic energy through its body. The truth is, though, that Nerghuls are very difficult to stop.”
“There must be some way.”
“Some grimoires, Pusad’s Treatise on the Hounds of Shadow, for one, claim you could stop them by sawing off their heads. It would not break the enchantment, but since the intelligence is in the brain, it would leave the body a mindless animated thing.”
“So all I have to do is ask it to lie down while I saw off its head? That sounds easy enough.”
“By implication, massive damage to the head might have a similar effect. It would have to almost destroy the skull, I would guess and even then it might not work.”
“Why?”
“Other grimoires claim the animation is provided by a dark spirit trapped in the corpse. If that’s the case, then beheading the creature would have very little effect at all.”
“Wonderful,” said Rik. “Those old books don’t seem terribly helpful.”
She smiled. “It’s often the way with such things. Sorcerers fumble in the dark, and write down as certainties what are, at best, theories.”
“So you’re saying that chopping off the head might have no effect whatsoever?”
She considered this. “The animating spirit would still be present but it would lose any mortal senses the head might provide.”
“It would be blind.”
“In one way, yes.”
“In another way, no. Am I right?”
“I have already told you, Rik, that demons see with other senses than the physical. They sense spirit and the flows of power.”
“But I might be invisible to that, if the rest of what you told me is true.”
“Very good, Rik. I see you have worked out a solution.”
“Only if I can convince a near invulnerable demon to lie down and let me perform surgery on it. It does not seem likely, does it?”
