03 - Death's Legacy (40 page)

His head spinning, Rudi tried to make sense of the ambush.
The creature that had attacked Hollobach was undoubtedly dead, but there were
four more of the things charging home against them, bloodlust shining in their
misshapen eyes. The hulking bull-headed creature that had challenged von Karien
closed in on the witch hunter, who parried its second strike skilfully, and
opened up a slash across its belly with his sword as he riposted. Far from
discouraging it, however, this only enraged the monster, and it struck out
savagely again. Von Karien leapt back, barely avoiding its axe.

Two of the others converged on Gerhard, who gave ground
grimly, his blade flickering as it parried attack after attack, until Hollobach
stepped in, his shimmering scythe taking the hand of one of the beastmen off at
the wrist as it swung an ugly, spike-studded club at the witch hunter’s head.
The ram-headed creature bleated in fury and turned on the mage, drawing a dagger
from its belt as it did so, and flying at him, trying to strike under his guard.
Hollobach stepped backwards to avoid it, slipping on the carpet of snow as his
foot found an obstruction under the muffling blanket, and fell, his head
striking one of the protruding pieces of rubble. The mystical weapon vanished,
and the beastman hurdled the body of the fallen mage to lunge at Mathilde, who
deflected the clumsy thrust easily, and stabbed it through the heart. The
creature fell, its knife dropping from nerveless fingers to skitter along the
frozen ground.

The fourth figure howled with glee as it leapt the wall and
closed in on the woman, slashing down with talon-tipped fingers, and with a
thrill of horror Rudi realised that this was no beastman after all, but the
mutated form of Hans Katzenjammer. Mathilde ducked, just in time, and countered,
her sword rebounding harmlessly from the ridge of bone along Hans’ forearm.

“Rudi.” He turned, feeling a light touch on his shoulder.
Hanna stood there, smiling, and for a moment, he felt all his old affection for
her rushing back. The pressure of her hand increased a little, as she tried to
urge him into motion. “Come with me. We don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?” In the periphery of his vision, the battle
continued. Blood fountained as the bull-headed monster struck von Karien in the
arm, driving him to the ground, and the blood-stained axe rose to administer the
coup de grace.
Hollobach rose to his knees, his purple robes sodden and
grubby, an expression of grim resolution on his face. Gerhard continued to
engage the second beastman that had attacked him, but it moved like quicksilver,
striking and slashing with the sword in its hand and the sting in the long,
curving tail that rose up over its shoulder. Most of the creatures had mutations
as well as the bestial appearance of their kind, Rudi realised, which probably
wasn’t all that surprising given the allegiance they seemed to owe to the Lord
of Change. Mathilde fell too, struck down by Hans. Bellowing with laughter, the
mutant prepared to finish her.

“We have to kill the daemon inside you,” Hanna said. Her arm
slid around Rudi’s shoulders, supporting him, trying to lead him away. “Quickly,
while the others keep these fools off our backs.”

“You can’t,” Rudi said. “It’s too late.” His head reeled with
the desire to help his friends, but he was too weak to move, and Hanna’s close
physical proximity was as heady as it had always been.

“Of course I can.” The strange stone she’d taken from the
skaven was glowing again, Rudi realised, channelling her power as he’d seen it
do before. Hanna glanced up, as if noticing something barely significant for the
first time. “There’s just a little something I need to do first.”

Before he could intervene or protest, a seething ball of
hellish red flame burst into existence in front of her, and streaked through the
air towards Gerhard. He saw it coming, and tried to move aside, but it burst
against his right arm, searing the flesh, and burning through to the bone
beneath. Screaming, the witch hunter fell, his sword dropping to the ground
beside him, and rolled, steam hissing from the site of the wound. The beastman
lunged down, striking with its sting, and Gerhard jerked, spasming as the venom
it carried began to course through his veins.

“Stop it!” Hanna shrieked, her face suddenly dissolving into
a mask of petulant fury. “He’s mine!” The mutated beastman turned, an almost
human expression of astonishment flickering across its muzzle, just before
another ball of crimson fire burst against its chest. “I told you, he’s mine!”
Turning away from the shrieking creature, whose fur was completely ablaze, she
smiled at Rudi again, as if nothing untoward had happened at all. “No one ever
listens,” she said, as if it was merely a minor annoyance.

“I’m listening,” Rudi said. Hollobach was on his feet again,
his lips moving, and the bull-headed creature froze in the act of bringing its
axe down on von Karien’s prostrate form. The witch hunter rallied, striking
upwards with his sword, and penetrating the creature’s chest. With a bellow of
agony its eyes rolled upwards and it toppled slowly to the snow.

“Leave her alone!” Fritz yelled, leaping in to stand between
his wife and what had once been his brother. A viciously-taloned hand rose to
swat him out of the way, and then a spark of recognition seemed to flicker in
the trio of eyes, and a bellow of inhuman laughter echoed around the ruins.

“Growing a backbone, Fritzie? Out of my way, or I’ll finish
you too, as soon as I’ve done for your slut.”

“I won’t let you hurt her!” Fritz took up a guard position,
his sword steady. “My mother’s dead because of you! You’re not taking anyone
else I love!”

“Love?” the mutant laughed again, the harsh gutturals of his
voice all but unintelligible. “You’ve never loved anyone. Poor little tag-along
Fritzie, never had any friends, never did anything I wouldn’t do first. You were
pathetic then, and you’re pathetic now.” The gigantic hand rose, swatting Fritz
aside as if he was a fly.

“As soon as I kill the daemon, you’ll be free,” Hanna said,
dragging Rudi’s attention back to her. “Then we can be together for always, just
like you want. I know that’s what you want.” She smiled, coquettishly. It should
have been enticing, Rudi thought, but somehow the effect was grotesque, as if
she was playing a part that she didn’t quite understand. “We can do this.” She
kissed him, long and slow, and Rudi felt his senses reeling. “And more, much
more.”

“I’m sorry,” Rudi said, slumping against her. “I can’t move.
I’m so weak.” He buckled at the knees.

“Come on, hurry.” Hanna seemed to have forgotten her attempt
to seduce him already. “I can help you.”

“Thank you.” Rudi straightened, putting an arm around her
shoulder for support. Von Karien was struggling to his feet, blood pouring from
the gash in his arm, while Gerhard still lay prostrate on the ground next to the
noisily expiring beastman that Hanna had struck down in a moment of anger.

Hollobach was stumbling towards Hans, his lips moving in some
arcane incantation, but his intervention was to prove unnecessary. Fritz dodged
his brother’s blow at the last moment, and struck, aiming the point of his sword
straight at the third eye in the middle of Hans’ forehead. The mutant’s neck
snapped straight, with a howl of agony, and he fell to his knees, rancid ichor
seeping from the wound.

“You little…” the words died away in a rattling gasp, and
an expression of petulant astonishment crossed his face. Powerful claws flexed
against the frozen ground, trying to find a purchase. “I’ll kill…”

“No. I will.” With a surge of anger-fuelled strength, Fritz
thrust the blade in up to the hilt, the tip of it bursting from the back of his
brother’s skull. The mutant’s arms flailed for a moment, trying to find a
target, and then the light went out in his remaining eyes, and he toppled to the
ground.

“Some honeymoon this is turning out to be,” Mathilde
grumbled, scrambling unsteadily to her feet. She kissed Fritz. “Thanks.”

Leaning into Hanna for support, trying to ignore the
intoxicating effect of the yielding warmth of her body against his, Rudi slipped
the point of the dagger he’d plucked from the concealed sheath in her bodice
through the thong supporting the skaven stone around the girl’s neck. He cut the
cord in one swift movement, snatching the little leather bag with his other
hand, and throwing it as far as he could. Hanna screamed with anger, rounding on
him and pushing him to the ground.

Rudi fell heavily, feeling the breath being driven from his
body as he watched the girl sprinting after the talisman. He tried to rise, but
the toxins in his system were doing their baleful work, their effects
intensified by the physical exertion, and he couldn’t find the strength.

“Stop her!” he shouted. “Don’t let her pick it up!”

His warning was unnecessary. Perceiving the danger, perhaps
through some arcane attunement to the magical world, Hollobach was already
running towards the strange stone that the girl had carried for so long. Hanna
was younger and fitter, however, making a desperate dive for it before the
magister was anywhere within reach.

“Sorry.” Mathilde tackled her, driving her to the ground, and
the Amethyst mage bent down to pluck the little bag from the tips of her
scrabbling fingers. “Stuff like that’s better left to proper wizards.”

“I’ll kill you!” Hanna tried to throw Mathilde off, but the
older woman was an experienced professional fighter, and held on to her easily.

“Need a hand, Rudi?” Fritz leaned down, proffering
assistance. Rudi seized him gratefully by the wrist, and was pulled awkwardly to
his feet.

“Thanks,” he said. He glanced at the two wounded witch
hunters. “You’d better help Osric and Gerhard.”

“This one’s beyond help,” Fritz said, stepping over Gerhard
with barely a glance. The animosity he clearly still felt for the man might have
been affecting his judgement, but Rudi found it hard to disagree. Gerhard’s face
was pale, and his breathing laboured. The witch hunter reached out to take Rudi
by the ankle as he passed.

“Hurry,” he breathed.

“We will,” Rudi assured him. Fritz was binding up the gash in
von Karien’s arm with a surprising degree of skill, but without much enthusiasm.

“What is that thing anyway?” Mathilde asked, looking at the
little leather pouch curiously, ignoring both the squirming and the stream of
invective beneath her. Hollobach tipped the stone out into the palm of his hand.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he admitted at last.

“I think it stores magic, somehow,” Rudi said. “It drained
the energy away when Gerhard’s talisman prevented Hanna from casting spells, and
she seems a lot more powerful when she’s got it with her.”

“Of course.” Von Karien nodded. “That’s how she hoped to
sacrifice the daemon, by drawing power from the stone. It wouldn’t have had the
catastrophic effect polluting the temple in Altdorf would have done, but it
would have tainted the ministry of all the souls who trained for the priesthood
here.”

“You know nothing,” Hanna said, scornfully. “You think you
do, but you’re just insects. I’ll kill you all.”

“You talk a good fight, I’ll say that for you,” Mathilde said
cheerfully, hacking off a strip of Hanna’s skirt with her dagger, and expertly
tying her hands with it. Hanna struggled to her feet, glaring at everyone in
turn, her eyes finally coming to rest on Rudi.

“You idiot,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “You
could have had everything you wanted; a long life, free of that filth inside
you, and me.”

“If it’s any consolation, it was tempting,” Rudi said, “but
the price was too high. My soul’s my own, and I’m keeping it.”

“Want to bet?” Hanna asked, her voice becoming suffused with
the gleeful malevolence he’d noticed before when the destructive side of her
powers had overwhelmed her. “I don’t need the stone to cast spells, remember?”

Rudi flinched back as another ball of hellish red flame burst
into existence in front of her. Then, to his relieved astonishment, fizzled and
went out, vanishing as if it had never been.

“I’m afraid you do,” Hollobach said. “Consecrated ground,
remember? Chaos magic won’t work here without something to boost its potency.”

“No!” Hanna’s air of self-confidence began to crumble. She
glared at Rudi. “This is all your fault! My mother’s dead because of you!” Her
eyes began to fill with tears, and a howl of grief and loss escaped her. “And
now they’re going to burn me, and I’ll die screaming, and it’s
all your
fault!
I
hate
you! I’m
glad
you’re going to suffer forever.
I hate you!”
The last few words were barely coherent, a raw, primal scream
of anguish that made the hairs rise on the back of Rudi’s neck. Then the girl’s
knees gave way under the pressure of her emotions, and she fell heavily to the
ground, bawling and raving, calling down every curse she could think of on her
captors. From this angle something seemed odd about the fall of her hair, and
with a prickle of apprehension he realised that the buds of two small horns were
beginning to grow through it.

“They’re not going to burn you,” Rudi said, as calmly as he
could. “I promised you that when we left Kohlstadt, and that’s one promise I can
still keep.” With more strength than he knew he still possessed, he struck down
with the dagger in his hand, clean through the vertebrae at the top of her neck,
as quickly and neatly as dispatching a rabbit. Hanna’s body jerked and spasmed,
falling suddenly to the ground, a flickering of something that might have been
astonishment and gratitude in her eyes for a moment, before the deep emerald
green of them clouded forever.

“Talking of burning,” Fritz said, a challenging edge to his
voice. Von Karien shook his head.

“You’ve proven to me where you stand,” he said. He turned to
Gerhard, whose breathing had become so shallow that it was almost impossible to
tell that some faint spark of life still lingered. “Luther might disagree, but
it’s my decision, and so long as you serve the Empire faithfully you’ll have
nothing to fear from me or my order.”