GEXa3Acb

1BOOK ONE 
2Praag  
3  
4“At that time, in the depths of that dreadful winter, I thought myself well acquainted with horror and pain. During the siege of Praag I had endured the loss of many trusty companions to the fiends of Chaos. But all the travails I had previously undergone shrank to insignificance compared to what was to come. For, through some strange quirk of fate or jest of the Dark Gods, the Slayer and I were destined to encounter an ancient, terrible evil and to lose several more of those who had been closest to us in the most peculiar and terrible of ways. The darkest of our days were yet to come.” 
5—From My Travels With Gotrek, Vol IV, by Herr Felix Jaeger (Altdorf Press, 2505)  
6  
7ONE 
8  
9  
10Felix Jaeger strode through the ruins of Praag — burnt out buildings, ruins, and rubble, as far as the eye could see. The remains of a few collapsed tenements poked their scorched heads from the allenveloping snow. Here and there men piled bodies on carts to be taken away and burned. It was a thankless and probably fruitless task. Many corpses would not now be found until the spring thaws, when the snow covering them melted. That’s if they were not excavated and eaten first, Felix thought. The effects of starvation were written on the faces of people all around him. 
11Felix pulled his faded red Sudenland wool cloak more tightly around him and strode on towards the White Boar — or where it had been, before the battle. He had grown bored with the triumphal banquets in the Citadel and the company of the Kislevite nobles. A man could only stand to listen to so many speeches praising the valour of the city’s defenders and the courage of the relieving army before his ears felt as if they would fall off. His tolerance for listening to nobility congratulating themselves on their heroism was not as great as it once had been. It was time to see what the Slayers were up to. They had left the banquet early the previous evening and not been seen since. Felix had a shrewd idea that he knew where he could find them. 
12He walked through the remains of what had been the Street of the Silk Merchants, surveying the burned out remains of the great warehouses. Pale, lean and hungry people, wrapped in ragged coats, were everywhere, trudging heads down through the snow, taking shelter in the ruins of the old storehouses. Many eyed him as if wondering whether he carried enough money to make him worth the risk of robbing. Some looked at him as if he might be their next meal, quite literally. Felix kept his hand near the hilt of his sword, and wore the fiercest expression he could muster on his face. 
13In the distance, the temple bells rang out in celebration. Felix wondered if he was the only one who found anything ironic in their joyous clamour. Considering their dire straits it was surprising how many of the people looked cheerful. He supposed most of them had expected to be dead by now. Nigh unbelievably the great Chaos horde of Arek Daemonclaw had been thrown back, and the mighty Chaos warlord had been defeated. The Gospodar muster and a ferocious bombing attack mounted by the airship, the Spirit of Grungni, had delivered the city from that vast army. Against all odds the heroic city of Praag had been saved from the mightiest army to attack it in two centuries. 
14It had been a victory bought at high cost. More than half of the Novygrad, the New City, that vast, densely populated warren of narrow streets between the outer wall and the old inner wall surrounding the Citadel, was gone, burned to the ground when the rampaging Chaos warriors had broken through into the city. Nearly a quarter of the city’s population was dead according to the quick and informal survey conducted by the duke’s censors. The same number again were expected to die of hunger, disease and exposure to the bitter chill of the northern winter. And that was assuming no more marauding armies emerged from the Northern Wastes. The outer wall was still breached in three places, and would not withstand any more assaults. 
15In the distance Felix could smell the sickly sweet scent of burning flesh. Somewhere out there people were warming their hands around funeral pyres for the slain. It was the only way to get rid of so many corpses quickly. There were too many now to be buried, the earth too hard to be broken by spades. There were still worries about plague. The dreadful diseases unleashed by the worshippers of Nurgle, the Lord of Disease, during the siege had made a resurgence in the aftermath of the battle. Some claimed it was the Plague Daemon’s revenge for the slaughter of his followers. The wizard Max Schreiber thought it more likely that the cold, the hunger and the depressing effects of the Kislevite winter were making the population more prone to the spore daemons that carried disease. Felix smiled sourly; a man with a theory for everything was Max Schreiber, and depressingly correct most of them had proven too. 
16A wailing woman tried frantically to stop two of the carters bearing off the body of a dead man, her lover, her husband or her brother perhaps. Most of the people in the city had lost at least one kinsman. Entire families had been wiped out. Felix thought about the people he had known who had died in the battle. Two of the dwarf Slayers, young Ulli and the hideously ugly Bjorni, had been burned on those huge funeral bonfires. 
17Why had this happened, Felix wondered? What had driven the Chaos worshippers from their remote realms in the uttermost north, and compelled them to attack the city? Why had they chosen the weeks before the onset of winter for their assault? It was an act of insanity. Even if they had taken Praag, they would have suffered quite as much from the effects of the cold and snow as the people of the city now were. More so, for such was the grim determination of the Kislevites that they would have burned their entire city to the ground rather than see it fall into the hands of their bitterest enemies. Felix supposed that the daemon forces would have had fewer qualms about devouring corpses or even each other, but even so their attack had been madness. 
18He shook his head. What was the point of trying to understand them anyway? You would have to be mad to willingly follow the daemon gods of Chaos, and that was all he needed to know. It was pointless for any sane man to try and understand the motives of such lost souls. Of course, Felix had heard many theories. Max Schreiber claimed that a huge tide of dark magical energy was flowing south out of the Chaos Wastes, and that it was goading the daemon worshippers to new heights of insane fury. 
19“Repent! Repent!” shouted a lean man with burning eyes. He stood on the pedestal once occupied by a statue of Tsar Alexander and ranted at the crowd. Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth. His long hair was lank. He looked like he had lost touch with sanity a long time ago. “The gods are punishing you for your sins.” 
20It seemed the zealots who preached in the burned out squares of the city had their own theories. They claimed that the end of the world had arrived, and that the Chaos horde had merely been a harbinger of worse things to come. That theory only lost plausibility slightly when you considered that these were the same people who claimed that the end of the world had arrived with the Chaos horde. They had been forced to change their story a little when the horde had been defeated. Felix fought down the urge to shout at the man. People had enough troubles without being harangued by a furious lunatic. A quick glance told him it was pointless. Nobody was paying the zealot any heed despite the way he had bared his breast and pummelled his own chest in fury. Most folk walked swiftly by trying to finish whatever business they had and get back to whatever meagre shelter they might possess. The man might as well have been shouting his anger at the wind. 
21A few stalls had been set up at the corners of the Square of the Simoners. Men in the winged lion tabard of the duke’s household doled out a ration of grain to a queue of hungry folk. The measure was now down to half a cup. Of course, the duke was now also feeding the assembled force of the Gospodar muster, nearly five thousand warriors and their mounts. They were camped out in the remains of the city and the burned out farms that surrounded it. Felix pushed his way quickly round the edge of the square, doing his best to avoid being caught up in the teeming mass of hacking, coughing, scratching flesh. He kept one hand on his sword hilt and one on his purse. Where crowds gathered you could never be too careful. 
22Felix had heard people say that the Ice Queen, the Tsarina of Kislev, had power over the winter weather. If that was so, he thought, why did she not loosen winter’s grip on the throat of her people? Perhaps such magic was beyond her power. It looked as if not even the Lords of Chaos had the power to do so, and surely they, most of all, had reason to do that, unless this whole invasion was just some sort of grim divine jest for their own amusement. From what he had seen when he had flown over the Chaos Wastes, Felix would not put it past them. 
23As he exited the square huge, thick flakes of snow began to fall, brushing coldly against his cheek. It frosted the hair of the folk about him. Felix was sick of the sight of it. He thought he was used to snow. Winters in the Empire were long and harsh but they were a summer picnic compared to what winter brought here. He had never seen so much snow fall, so quickly, and never known it to be quite this cold. He had heard rumours of huge, white dire wolves stalking the city’s outskirts and making off with children and the weak. He had heard tales of other worse things too. It seemed the Kislevites had horror stories for everything concerned with winter. Hardly surprising, he supposed, and he had seen enough of the world to know that there was most likely a grain of truth behind all of them. 
24Felix told himself not to be so dour. After all, he was alive when he had fully expected to meet his death during the Chaos horde’s attack. He could even leave the city on the mighty airship, the Spirit of Grungni, when Malakai Makaisson departed. True, that would mean returning to Karak Kadrin, the squat savage home of the Slayer cult, but surely even that would be preferable to spending the winter in Praag. Only a fool or a madman would want to do that. 
25Felix knew that really he had no choice in the matter. He was sworn to follow Gotrek and record his doom. Wherever the Slayer chose to go, he was bound to follow. Surely not even Gotrek would choose to remain in Kislev? Felix shook his head. The Slayer would most likely do it out of sheer pig-headedness. He seemed happiest when things were most uncomfortable, and — Felix could imagine few places more guaranteed to provide a healthy measure of discomfort than this snowbound, burned out shell of a city. 
26Now that he and Ulrika Magdova had finally separated, there was no real reason for him to stay. Briefly he wondered where the Kislevite noblewoman was. Most likely she was still with Max Schreiber, back at the banquet; the two of them were thick as thieves these days. 
27Ulrika claimed it was because of the honour debt she owed the wizard for saving her life during the plague. Felix was not quite so sure. It was hard for him not to feel jealous of the mage, even though, theoretically, he and Ulrika were not a couple anymore. 
28Yes, he told himself, moving on was for the best. 
29The snow crunched under his boots. He walked towards a charcoal brazier where a vendor was selling skewered rats. He did so more because he wanted heat than any of the four-legged chicken the man was selling. 
30The vendor seemed to read his thoughts and gave him a glare. Felix met the man’s look evenly until he glanced down and away. Despite his scholarly appearance he felt there were few men in the city who would give him trouble at times like this. Over the long period of his association with the Slayer, he had learned how to intimidate all but the most confident when he wanted to. 
31From over by the entrance to the Alleyway of Loose Women, above which a red lantern still burned even in this gloomy daylight, he heard the sound of weeping. The more cautious part of his mind told him to move on, to avoid any trouble. The curious part egged him on to investigate. The battle was over in heartbeats, and he marched over to the mouth of the alley. He saw an old woman weeping. She was bent over something and then leaned back and let out a terrible wail of anguish. No one else seemed to be paying much heed. Misery was abundant in Praag this season, and no one had much reason to go looking to share someone else’s. 
32“What is it, mother?” Felix asked. 
33“Who you calling ‘mother’, priest boy?” the old woman responded. There was anger in her voice now, as well as grief. She was looking for someone to focus it on, to distract herself. Felix guessed he had just made himself the target. 
34“Did I offend you?” he asked, still polite, studying the woman more closely. He could see that she was not really all that old. She just looked that way. Her face was covered in rouge to hide the pockmarks. Her tears had smudged her makeup horribly. Black rivulets ran down her powdered cheeks. A streetgirl, he decided, one of those who sold herself for a penny a tumble. Then he looked at her feet and a faint thrill of shock passed through him as he saw why she was crying. “Was she a friend of yours?” 
35It was the pale corpse of another girl. At first he thought she had died of the cold, then he noticed how utterly unnatural her pallor was. He bent down and saw that her throat was bruised. Some instinct told him to run his fingers over it. The flesh was torn, as if a beast had gnawed at it. 
36“You a watchman?” the woman asked aggressively. She reached out and grabbed his cloak, thrusting her face close to his. “You secret police?” 
37Felix shook his head and gently removed her hand. It would be a very bad thing to be marked out as one of the duke’s spies and agent provocateurs in this rough quarter. A crowd might gather and lynch him. Felix had seen such things happen before. 
38“Then you’re just a ghoul and I don’t have to tell you nuthin’.” The woman coughed and he heard the phlegm rasping through her lungs. Whatever she had, he hoped it was not contagious. She did not look like a well woman. Felix looked at her coldly. He was chilled to the bone, he was tired and he was not really in the mood to be the focus of this sick madwoman’s anger. 
39He stood up straight and said, “You’re right. Deal with this yourself!” 
40He turned to go, and noticed that a small crowd had gathered. To his surprise he felt a tug at his wrist, and turned to see the streetgirl looking up at him and crying once more. “I told her not to go with him,” she said after another hacking cough. “I told her, I told Maria, but she wouldn’t listen. I told her he was a bad ’un, and there have been all these killin’s recent, but she wouldn’t listen. Needed the money for medicine for the little ’un she said. Now who’ll look after him?” 
41Felix wondered what the woman was babbling about. He felt the urge to walk away as quickly as possible. He had seen many corpses in his life but there was something about this one that sickened him. He was not sure why, but he just knew that he wanted nothing further to do with this. And yet… 
42And yet he could not just walk away. The meaning of the woman’s words passed into his numbed brain, just as he heard a commotion at the back of the crowd and the sound of marching feet crunching snow underfoot. He turned to see a squad of halberdiers in winged lion tabards had forced their way through the gathering crowd, hard-faced veterans of the city watch, led by a grey-haired sergeant. He looked at Felix and said, “You find her?” Felix shook his head. “Just passing by,” he said. 
43“Then keep on passing,” said the sergeant. Felix stepped to one side. He wanted no arguments with the duke’s guards. The sergeant bent down over the corpse and muttered a low curse. “Damn,” he said. “Another one.” 
44“That’s Red Maria, sarge,” said one of the troopers. “From Flint Street.” “Have you seen something like this before?” Felix asked. 
45The sergeant looked up at him. Something about his expression made it clear that he was not in the mood to give answers to any passing civilians. Felix wasn’t sure why he had asked. This was surely no business of his. But something about the man’s tone rankled him, and something about this killing niggled at the back of his mind. He knew it would most likely go unsolved anyway. He had been a watchman himself in his time, back in Nuln, what seemed a lifetime ago, and he knew the watchmen were not likely to expend any more effort on a murdered streetgirl than to carry her to the funeral pyres. Looking down at the corpse he began to see her as a person finally. 
46Who were you, he wondered? What was your life like? Why did you die? Who killed you? Your friend said you had a child. Did you love him? Must have or you would not have gone out with a deadly stranger on a winter night and walked off to your death. 
47He felt a faint familiar surge of anger at the sheer injustice of it. Somewhere out there a monster was free and a child was most likely going to die for want of food, and there was not much he could do about it. He reached down to his waist and fingered his purse. It was a bit flat, but there was gold in it. He turned so his body covered the action, and pushed it into the woman’s palm. 
48“Take that, find the child and look after it. Should see you for a while. Take it to the orphanage at the Temple of Shallya. They’ll care for it, if you give them a donation.” 
49Stupid, stupid, stupid, he told himself. The woman will most likely keep the money herself. Or will be robbed, or the child is already dead. But what else could he do? He was a fool, he knew, but at least he had done something, made some small gesture in the face of the vast uncaring universe. 
50“Same as the one down on Temple Street two nights ago,” he heard one of the troopers murmur. He turned in time to see the man make the sign of the wolfs head against evil. First finger and little finger extended, middle two fingers pressed into the palm by the thumb. The guard was a follower of Ulric then, like most of these Kislevites. 
51“Another lunatic most likely,” said the sergeant. 
52“Or a daemon,” said the soldier superstitiously. Rumour had it that some of the daemons summoned when the Chaos horde attacked the city were still at large. Felix knew this was unlikely. He had sat through enough of Max’s lectures on the subject to know why. There was simply not enough magical energy in the area to support one now. 
53“It would not be a daemon,” he said. 
54“You’d be an expert on that, I suppose,” the sergeant said. Felix thought back over his long career as the Slayer’s henchman, and all the vile creatures he had fought, including the great Bloodthirster of Karag Dum. 
55“More than you would ever guess,” he murmured. 
56“What was that?” the sergeant asked abruptly. Felix snapped his mouth shut. Claiming knowledge of daemons in this city was a sure way to get yourself invited to a witch hunter’s confession cell. He was not ready for the rack and the iron boot just yet. 
57“Nothing,” he said. The sergeant looked at him as if he really wanted to pick a fight just now. Felix could understand why. The sight of the body was very disturbing, a cause of both fear and anger, and the man was looking for a target to focus his on. Suddenly the streetgirl came to his rescue. 
58“He’s right. It wasn’t a daemon. It was a man,” she said. “I saw him.” 
59“Daemons can take human shape,” said the gloomy soldier. He obviously wasn’t going to give up on his theory without a struggle. 
60“It was a man,” she said. “A rich man. A nob. With a foreign accent like the stranger here.” 
61The sergeant was giving Felix an even harder, appraising stare now. Felix could see what he was thinking. 
62“Wasn’t him,” said the girl quickly. 
63“You sure, Nella? I saw him slip you some money there. Pretty suspicious if you ask me.” 
64“Wasn’t him,” she said even more emphatically. She too could see the deep waters they were sailing into now. “Was taller, thinner, darker. And there was something about him that just made my flesh creep.” 
65“There’s something about this one that makes my flesh creep,” said the sergeant. His witticism drew guffaws from the troops, all except the gloomy soldier who repeated, “Daemons make your flesh creep. It was a daemon for sure.” 
66“Don’t look like a man’s work. Look at her throat. More like a dog did that. Never saw a man kill anyone like that before.” 
67“I have,” said the sergeant. “Remember Mad Olaf? Chewed his way through quite a few bar girls in his time.” 
68“Olaf is in the madhouse,” said the soldier with the daemon theories. 
69“Who knows?” said the sergeant. “Madhouse burned down in the siege. Who knows if all the loonies burned with it?” 
70“Does the girl’s description fit Mad Olaf?” Felix asked, keen now, to divert any hint of suspicion from himself. 
71“Not at all. Mad Olaf was short, bald and worked in the Street of Tanners. Smell could knock you down at six paces. I’m sure Nella would have noticed it, wouldn’t you, Nella? Unless you’re just making this up to put us off pretty boy here’s tracks.” 
72“Wasn’t anythin’ like Mad Olaf,” she said, shaking her head. “Though he did smell kind of odd…” 
73“Odd? How?” asked Felix and the sergeant simultaneously. 
74“There was a perfume about him, like something the nobs wear but stronger. Like those spices you used to be able to buy down at the Pepper Market. Like cinna… cinnabor… cinna…” “Like cinnamon?” Felix finished for her. 
75“That’s the word.” 
76“So we’re looking for a tall, dark man, dressed like a noble, smells of cinnamon,” said the sergeant sarcastically. It was obvious he thought Felix really was wasting his time now. He glared at Felix as if considering hauling him off anyway. 
77“Where were you last night, stranger?” he asked. Felix was glad he had a good answer for that. 
78“The palace,” he said. “Maybe you would like to ask the duke a few questions while you’re about it.” 
79The sergeant looked suddenly a bit more respectful, but only a bit. Felix could tell he was wondering whether he was being mocked. After all, how likely was it that someone as scruffily dressed as Felix would be eating with the ruler of Kislev’s second most powerful city-state? 
80“Perhaps you’d care to come along to the palace and make sure of what I am saying?” Felix said. He was confident that things would go his way there. He and Gotrek had been given a heroes’ welcome, along with Snorri Nosebiter, after their heroic stand on the outer wall and their despatch of Arek Daemonclaw. To tell the truth, Felix knew he was probably only welcome because he was associated with the dwarfs. They had, after all, proven to be the Kislevites’ best and only allies in this struggle so far. Their airship had done as much to lift the siege as the entire Gospodar muster. 
81“That won’t be necessary,” said the sergeant after a long moment. “Come on, let’s get this body to the pyres.” 
82Felix exchanged looks with Nella, and they went their separate ways. 
83  
84Max Schreiber looked around the massive feasting chamber wondering if the celebrations would ever end. It seemed the Kislevites liked to commemorate their victories with enormous meals and endless toasts. It seemed like he had barely gone to sleep when he was woken for the next instalment of the grand debauch. His stomach was so distended it felt as if it would burst. Fortunately, he had decided to drink nothing but water since his embarrassment with Ulrika at Karag Kadrin, and he had stuck to the resolution. It had given him an opportunity to study the Kislevites around him. It had been a long time since he had moved in quite such exalted company. 
85At the head of the table, at the place of honour normally reserved for the Duke of Praag himself, sat the Ice Queen Katarina, the Tsarina of Kislev, a cold and perfectly beautiful woman with eyes like chips of blue ice. Today her hair was the colour of winter frost. Max knew it changed at her whim. She had the ageless sculpted beauty of a statue, a perfection of face and form that had something inhuman about it and she appeared none the worse for two days of eating and drinking. Looking at her, Max could easily believe the tales of inhuman blood that was said to flow in the veins of the royal line of Kislev. 
86Whatever it was that gave her beauty, it also gave her a fearsome aura of magical power. A wizard of great strength himself, Max could recognise a potent mage when he met one, and the Tsarina was certainly that. No, he thought, that was not quite right. There was something strange and not quite human about her powers as well. She did not feel like any human wizard he had ever encountered, and when he studied her with his magesight he could see the swirls of power surrounding her were quite unlike those of any human mage too. She had a frosty, chill blue aura that seemed to extend outwards beyond his field of vision. Patterns of magical energy swirled around her like snowflakes in a blizzard. She seemed to be connected directly to the cold energy of her land. He doubted that there was anything subtle about the magic she could wield, but he knew it would be effective as a battering ram. She was in receipt of great energies from somewhere. 
87She seemed aware of Max’s study and turned her cold gaze speculatively on him. Max had heard rumours of her, and her legion of lovers too, and had no great desire to find out if they were true. He swiftly looked away. A faint mocking smile played across the Tsarina’s lips as if she could read his thoughts. Max stroked his beard with his hand, to hide the flush that came to his cheeks. He was not quite used to the forwardness of Kislevite women. They were very unlike the ladies of his homeland, the Empire. 
88Automatically his eyes sought out Ulrika. She sat across the table from him, side by side with her father, the huge old March Boyar, Ivan Petrovich Straghov. Looking at the two of them, Max wondered how it was possible that the massive bear-like man could be the father of such a slender and lovely woman. Ivan Straghov was a giant, huge of shoulder, and just as huge of belly. A long beard, almost dwarf-like, descended to his waist. Sweat shone on his bald forehead. He held a stein of beer in one massive fist. It looked little larger than a delicate wine goblet in that massive ham-like hand. 
89His daughter by contrast was slim as a blade, with high cheekbones and wide-set eyes. Her ashblonde hair was cut short as a man’s and she held herself with a dancer’s poise. She was garbed in tunic and riding britches, the true daughter of one of the horse lords of Kislev. She laughed and joked with her father just like any common trooper and her quips were rewarded with huge bellows of laughter that set the old man’s belly shaking like a jelly. 
90Seated beside Max, the duke, a tall, dark saturnine man with long drooping moustaches and sunken cheeks, leaned forward to pour more wine for the Tsarina. A peculiar gleam was in the duke’s eye and Max recalled the rumours that Enrik was not quite sane. Hardly surprising — ruling the haunted city of Praag was likely to drive even the most normal man over the edge. Since the death of his brother at the hands of Chaos worshipping assassins he seemed even sadder and more sardonic than usual. Max wondered if the duke knew of Felix Jaeger’s theory that his brother had been a member of the Chaos cults himself, but knew he would probably never find out. Who was going to risk asking such a loaded personal question of such a high-ranking noble? Not Max, for a certainty. 
91Max glanced around and looked at the others. This was the high table where the Tsarina, the duke and the favoured few sat to be waited on by court favourites. At the other tables were the leaders of the great muster of Kislev. Leaders of tens, fifties and hundreds of horse-soldiers, formidable warriors all. They looked more like barbarians than nobles to Max, but he kept the thought to himself. These men were allies of his homeland, the Empire, and great nobles in their own land. 
92It never paid to antagonise such people under any circumstances. Max had spent enough time around the courts of the rich and the powerful to know this only too well. At the bottom of the main table, looking as uncomfortable as a man waiting his own execution, sat the dwarf Malakai Makaisson, the only Slayer who had bothered to accept the duke’s invitation to dine today. 
93Makaisson was short and like all dwarfs very, very broad. Without the great crest of dyed hair rising above his shaven skull, his head would only have come to the top of Max’s stomach, but he outweighed Max by far, and all of that extra weight was muscle. Crystalline goggles, pushed back from his eyes, sat in the middle of his forehead, looking for all the world like the eyes of some giant insect. A leather flying helmet dangled from his neck. A fur-collared leather flying jerkin covered his massive torso. Tattoos depicting entwined dragons covered the back of his hands. 
94The dwarf caught Max looking at him and gave him a gap-toothed smile before raising his pitcher of ale. Max answered the smile for he liked Makaisson, who was just about as friendly and outgoing as it was possible for a dwarf Slayer to be, as well as a genius in his own field. 
95Max was a sorcerer not an engineer, but he had seen enough of Malakai Makaisson’s work to recognise that the dwarf was master of a power that was, in its own way, quite as great as wizardry. He had seen the massive airship, Spirit of Grungni, break the siege of Praag with the use of alchemical fire. He had seen it resist the attack of a dragon and rout an army of orcs. He had seen the Slayer’s modified firearms slaughter dozens of goblins in seconds. He had heard tales of mighty ships and siege engines created by this dwarf, and he recognised an intellect as great in its own warped way, as anything ever produced by the Universities or Colleges of Magic of the Empire. Quite possibly greater, he admitted. 
96“It is a pity none of your comrades could be here tonight,” said the duke sardonically, addressing Malakai Makaisson. “They seem insensible to the honour of dining with the Tsarina.” 
97If the Slayer was embarrassed he gave no sign of it. “That wud be their bizness, yer dukeship,” he said. “Ah cannae answer fur them. Gotrek Gurnisson and Snorri Nosebiter are as thrawn a pair o’ dwarfs as ever lived.” 
98“And that’s saying something,” said the Ice Queen lightly. The favourites around the table laughed. 
99“Among dwarfs it wud be considered a great compliment,” said Malakai Makaisson judiciously, as if no mockery were intended. Perhaps the dwarf was too blunt to notice it, Max thought, or perhaps he chose to ignore it in the interests of diplomacy. Max considered the latter an unlikely eventuality, but you never knew. No one had ever called Malakai Makaisson stupid, just mad. 
100“Present or not,” said Ivan Straghov, “they did well in the last battle.” 
101“They did a great service to Kislev, and shall be rewarded for it,” said the Tsarina. Malakai Makaisson spluttered into his ale. Max wondered if he should explain the situation to the Ice Queen. Gotrek and Snorri did not seek rewards or honours; they sought death to atone for their sins. He decided that it probably wasn’t his place to share the information. Besides, the Tsarina seemed to be an extraordinarily well-informed woman. She probably already knew. 
102“We shall have great need of such fighters before this war is over,” continued the Ice Queen. Max shivered. It was war all right, quite possibly the largest in history. Before the siege he had not really had time to take it in, he had only been concerned with the seemingly unwinnable battle to come. Now, he knew that the whole of the Old World had a huge fight on its hands. The massive drift of Chaos worshippers out of the north ensured it. The Ice Queen turned her gaze on Malakai Makaisson once more and it swiftly became obvious why he had been invited to this feast. “Have you thought more of our proposal, Herr Makaisson?” 
103Malakai took another swig of his beer and met her gaze levelly. “If there’s ocht ah can dae, lassie, ah wull dae it. But ma airship and ma services are already spoken fur. Ah must gan back to Karak Kadrin and help the Slayer King muster his forces.” 
104“Surely you can spare us a few days, Herr Makaisson, a week at the most,” said the Tsarina. Her tone was silky but Max could hear the danger in it. He wondered what she would do if Malakai Makaisson had the gall to refuse her outright. She did not have the look of a woman who was used to taking rejection well. “Your airship is worth an army of scouts. In days you could cover more terrain than ten thousand of my bold riders could in a month.” 
105“Aye, ye’re right,” said Malakai. “Ah could. An’ ah can see the value such kenning would have. Who kens where those Chaos-lovin’ basturds will strike next, excuse ma language.” 
106“So you’ll do it then?” said the Ice Queen decisively. Malakai Makaisson sucked his teeth loudly. “Ah’ll dae ma best, but there are ither factors tae be considered. What if ma lovely airship gets shot doon, or blasted fae the sky by sorcery, or attacked by them bat-winged gets that are always hoverin’ above the daemon worshippers? It wouldnae dae onybody ony guid if that happened. An ah don’t own the Spirit of Grungni, ah’m only the builder. It’s no really mine tae risk.” 
107Max almost intervened. He had put the Chaos-repelling spells on the Spirit of Grungni himself and he knew how strong they were. Few mages would overcome them quickly. And he was just as certain that the heavily armed airship would be able to repel anything that attacked it. As for taking risks with the airship, the Slayer engineer had taken a number of crazy ones with it, to Max’s certain knowledge. He forced himself to keep his mouth shut, knowing that Malakai must be as aware of all these things as he was, and if he wanted to refuse the Ice Queen he must have his own good reasons. 
108The Ice Queen gave the dwarf another one of her dangerous looks. Most men would have quailed before it, but Malakai just took another slug of his beer. “We could of course compensate you for any risk you might run…” she said softly. 
109Max half expected Malakai Makaisson to protest that he was a Slayer and that risk did not enter the equation. Makaisson surprised him. “Ah might be able tae dae somethin’ wi’ that. Depends on yer terms.” 
110With that, Malakai Makaisson and the Ice Queen began to dicker. Max did not know why he was surprised by this turn of events. Malakai Makaisson was a dwarf after all, a race of beings famous for their love of gold. 
111Still, thought Max, such constant advancement of self-interest among supposed allies did not bode well for the conduct of the war. 
112  
113Felix Jaeger was surprised. The White Boar was still standing. Well, almost. Part of the roof had been burned away and hastily patched with timbers salvaged from the ruins of nearby tenements. A blanket covered the doorway and two heavily armed mercenaries stood on guard beside it, keeping a wary eye on everyone who came along the street. He squared his shoulders and strode up, doing his best to behave as if he could not feel their suspicious glares on him. 
114Once inside he was surprised by how packed it was. It looked like half the sellswords of the city had tried to squeeze inside out of the cold. Felix half suspected that even without the huge fire blazing in the hearth, the press of bodies would have kept the place warm. He heard two familiar voices bellowing and strode towards the table where the two dwarf Slayers were arm-wrestling. 
115Gotrek Gurnisson looked none the worse for the terrible wounds he had taken during the siege. The healers of the temple of Shallya had done a good job of patching his wounds. Right now a look of insane concentration glittered in his one good eye. Veins bulged in his forehead and his enormous crest of orange dyed hair stood on end. Sweat beaded his tattooed skull, running down his forehead into the ruined socket covered by a huge eye patch. Massive cablelike sinews bulged in his huge arms as he strove against another dwarf even more massive than he. 
116Snorri Nosebiter looked even dumber than usual, Felix thought. The dwarf licked his lips moronically as he concentrated. He looked as if arm wrestling were about the most intellectually stimulating pursuit he had ever engaged in. The three painted nails driven into his shaven skull were a testimony to his sheer brute stupidity. He was almost as ugly as Bjorni Bjornisson had been. One ear had been ripped clean away; the other resembled a massive cauliflower. His nose had been broken so many times it seemed to have spread across his face like wax from a melted candle. His arms were thicker than a strong man’s thighs. They bulged and flexed as he strained to overcome Gotrek’s grip. Slowly, inexorably, the one-eyed Slayer’s enormous strength began to tell. Snorri cursed as his hand was slammed into the tabletop almost upsetting his beer. 
117“That’s another one of these piss-weak manling brews you owe me, Snorri Nosebiter,” said Gotrek. His gravelly voice sounded even more contemptuous than usual. 
118“Snorri thinks we should make it best of twenty-seven,” said Snorri. 
119“You would still lose,” said Gotrek with certainty. 
120“Maybe Snorri would surprise you, Gotrek Gurnisson,” said Snorri. 
121“You haven’t so far.” 
122“There’s a first time for everything,” said Snorri Nosebiter, a little petulantly, Felix thought. “What have you been up to, manling?” asked Gotrek. “Your face is tripping you.” 
123Swiftly Felix told the tale of the dead girl and his escape from the clutches of the guards. Gotrek listened with the sort of unreasonable interest that Felix knew boded no good. Even Snorri was hanging on his every word. After he finished his story, Felix said, “You don’t seem at all surprised by what I have been saying.” 
124“I’ve heard several versions of this story over the past few days. Seems like there’s a mad dog killer on the loose out there. One that needs to be put down.” 
125“You think you’re the one to do it?” Felix asked worriedly. When the Slayer got such ideas fixed in his head, he usually ended up in some dark and nasty place along with him. Gotrek shrugged. 
126“If I run into the bastard, manling, I will do it happily, but I’m not planning on going out looking for him just yet.” 
127“Just yet? That’s good.” 
128“Snorri wonders whether it really might be a daemon,” said Snorri. “That soldier sounded quite clever to Snorri.” 
129Gotrek shook his head. “If it was a daemon every wizard in the city would be shouting spells and every priest casting exorcisms from the temple roofs.” “Then what could it be?” Felix asked. 
130“Your guess is as good as mine, manling,” said Gotrek and took a long swig of his ale. “One thing’s for sure though. Nothing good.” 
131  
132The Bow and Bard might be the finest inn in Praag, Adolphus Krieger thought as he glanced around, but this was not saying much. He had seen finer inns in any small town in the Empire. He should have remained in Osrik’s mansion, he knew, but the strange restlessness that had filled him recently had driven him out into the night once more. When this mood was on him, he could not even stand the sight of his loyal manservant, Roche. 
133He drew his cloak around him and studied the tavern crowd. He could smell each individual scent, hear every heartbeat, was aware of the thrum of crimson through every vein. So many people, he thought, so much blood. He felt like an epicure studying a Tilean banquet. 
134Where to begin, he thought? Perhaps with that young noblewoman sitting over there with her lover? She was almost beautiful but there was something about her he found vaguely repulsive. As a rule, Adolphus did not care for Kislevite women with their flat peasant features and short muscular bodies. No, not her. 
135The tavern wench gave him a broad smile, and offered to bring him more wine. It was possible she was responding to his good looks, he thought, but more likely to the cut of his clothes. She sensed money, either in tips or afterwork activities. Adolphus shook his head and smiled at her affably. He had only just surreptitiously poured half his current goblet on the floor. It had been a long time since Adolphus drank wine. The barmaid moved off with a saucy flick of her hips. Once, a long time ago, she might have interested him, but now he was not even interested in her as prey. 
136Adolphus shook his head and began to draw patterns on the tabletop with his fingertip using some of his spilled wine. He was in a strange mood, and he had not lived as long as he had without learning to recognise the dangers of such things. He was becoming prey to all manner of odd impulses and he wondered what that foreboded. 
137Last night for instance, he had drained that girl dry when he had only meant to sip. There had been no need for it. Her blood had been flat and thin and not even remotely interesting. She herself was mere cattle, barely worth his interest. Why had he done it? Why had he drank so deep that she had died, and why had he torn out her throat with his teeth in that pathetic attempt to cover his trail? 
138It was difficult to understand. A delirium had come over him such as he had not experienced in centuries. He had sucked the girl’s blood like a whelp on his first night after rising. He had done the same the night before, and the night before that. Looking back on his feverish actions, it seemed almost unreal. It was as if some madness were overtaking him, and the madness was becoming stronger. 
139Adolphus had always despised the Arisen who slew indiscriminately. It was unsophisticated, boorish and deeply, deeply counter-productive. That way lay witch-hunts and mortal sorcerers and priests with their deadly spells at least until Adolphus fulfilled Nospheratus’ ancient prophesy. One for one, or even one for ten, the Arisen might be more than a match for any mortal, but the cattle had the numbers, and they had potent allies and magic. 
140It was not like the old days that the Forebears spoke of with such fondness. Mankind had grown much stronger since the time when they were skin-clad barbarians to be hunted through the woods. 
141Of course, things would change. Human civilisation had collapsed into anarchy before. Adolphus could remember the Time of Three Emperors and von Carstein’s efforts to re-establish the superiority of the Arisen. It had been a brave effort but a doomed one. 
142Von Carstein had not been potent enough and clever enough to win his war. Adolphus knew that when his time came, things would go differently. He was the chosen one. He was the Prince of the Night. The Eye and the Throne would be his! 
143If only that old fool would give him the talisman there need be no unpleasantness. Adolphus fought down the urge to simply go round to the old man’s mansion and take it, but that would be too loud, too unsubtle, such an action might well be noticed in certain quarters before Adolphus wanted it to be. It would not do for the countess or others of her faint-hearted ilk to discover what he was up to ahead of time. No, he told himself, it would be best to wait. 
144He turned his attention to the noblewoman. She really wasn’t so bad, he thought. The best of the bunch present tonight certainly. He saw that she sensed him looking at her, and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Without thinking, Adolphus exerted his will. The woman froze and stared at him, as if seeing him for the very first time. Adolphus smiled at her, and she smiled back. He looked down at the table again and let her go. That was enough for now. The connection was made. He would pluck her later, when the moment was ripe, perhaps not tonight, but some other night, when the thirst came upon him. He saw that her companion, perhaps a young aristocrat of some sort from his dress, was looking at him, and then at her. He had obviously noticed the exchange between them, and was most likely jealous. He leaned forward and whispered something furiously in the woman’s ear. She shook her head as if denying something. If he had wanted to, he could have listened in on their conversation simply by focusing his mind on it. Like all of the Arisen, his senses were fantastically keen. The cattle were always so predictable, thought Adolphus. 
145He dismissed the mortals from his thoughts. They were irrelevant. What was worrying him was his own lack of control. He could not afford it now. Not with the consummation of all his plans so close, not with everything he had worked so hard on almost within his reach. He needed all his wits about him now. He needed all his guile and cunning. He needed to keep his plans a secret until it was too late for the rest of the Arisen or anyone else, for that matter, to stop him. Instead he had gone on a blood binge, killing and drinking indiscriminately, leaving a trail that the right sort of hunter could follow with the ease of a forester tracking a mastodon. He simply could not understand it. Such a thing had not happened to him since his first mistress had given him the red kiss all those long centuries ago. Why was this happening to him? And why now? 
146He had heard of such things happening before. The Arisen were sometimes subject to a strange madness that got into their blood and drove them to crazed sprees. When that happened they were just as often hunted down by their own kind as by the cattle. None of the Arisen particularly cared to have the cattle stirred into a frenzy. Adolphus knew that if he kept up this sort of behaviour it would only be a matter of time before one of the Council came looking for him, and he could not afford that, at least not until the talisman was in his hands. Once that was accomplished and the thing was attuned to him they could send whoever they liked. But until then, he very badly needed to get himself under control unless he wanted to end up with a stake through his heart and his brainpan stuffed with witchroot as a warning to others not to behave as he had done. 
147He was aware, as he was aware of everything in the room, that the young lover had risen and walked over to a pack of his richly garbed friends, who were standing by the bar. He was gesturing in Adolphus’ direction, pointing aggressively. Not now, you young idiot, Adolphus thought. I do not need this. The group of youths began stalking over towards his table, hands on their sword hilts. Adolphus had seen lynch mobs in small towns walk towards their victims’ homes with exactly that stride. He watched them come towards his table, hoping vaguely that they would pass him by, knowing that it really was not all that likely. Now he wished he had brought Roche. His hulking henchman was always a good distraction in situations like this. 
148“So you are the one who’s been seeing Analise,” said a voice from close by The accents belonged to the wealthy merchant class of Praag, the tone of voice was at once arrogant and selfrighteous and petulant. A young jealous man, thought Adolphus, and one about to make the biggest mistake of his short life. Adolphus did not answer but studied the contents of his goblet closely. A hand lashed out and knocked his goblet over. 
149“You, sir, I am talking to you. Don’t ignore me.” Adolphus looked up and studied him closely. A foppish young fool clad in the latest fashion, long coat, bright pantaloons, a wide-brimmed hat with a feather in it. He had a narrow face, white sharp teeth and a savage, feral look in his eye. Makeup covered some of the pockmarks on his not unhandsome face. 
150“You are making that very difficult, sir,” said Adolphus, looking up. He could smell the drink on the young man’s breath. He gazed into his eyes and tried to make contact but the youth was too far gone in drunken jealous anger to be reached. Too bad for him, thought Adolphus, feeling the devil of rage begin to stir in his own unbeating heart. He glanced over at the youth’s friends. All cut from the same cloth, he thought, all young, all drunk, all viciously certain that they could do anything they wanted to a stranger here, and get away with it. Under normal circumstances, Adolphus thought, they would most likely be right. These were not normal circumstances, however. 
151“I want you to get up and leave now, and I want you never to show your ugly face in here again.” 
152Adolphus shrugged. Under normal circumstances he would probably have done what these boors asked. He wanted no trouble that he could avoid, not now. But somewhere in the back of his mind, the lurking daemon, the thing that had caused him to drain those women dry, was stirring. He felt irritation build up within him, a small nagging thing that swiftly ballooned into a compulsion to be contrary. Who were these oafs to be ordering him around? Mere cattle, insects barely worthy of his notice. He looked at them with loathing, letting his contempt show upon his face. He saw the answering anger written on theirs. 
153“And how are you going to make me do that, boy?” Adolphus asked. “Why should I listen to a child who needs half a dozen of his playmates to deliver a simple warning? Is this the usual behaviour of Praag’s so-called men?” The internal daemon made him add, “Is it any wonder Analise prefers a real man to a beardless boy like you?” 
154Fury contorted the youth’s face. He had trapped himself and he knew it. Adolphus’ accent marked him as a noble, albeit one from some distant corner of the Empire. It would be dishonourable to simply gang up on him. The only course open to him was to call Adolphus out, to fight a duel. He saw the youth begin to look at him as if for the first time, taking in the height, the breadth of shoulder, the superb self-confidence with which Adolphus was facing down a whole gang of armed men. Obviously, even his drunken brain retained enough sense not to like the implications of what he was seeing. Adolphus wondered how he would deal with it. The response was predictable. 
155“Take this piece of scum outside and beat him within an inch of his life,” the youth said. 
156“A coward as well as a cuckold,” Adolphus sneered. He looked at the others. The part of him that was still relatively sane suggested that he should at least attempt to give them a way out from what was about to happen. Slaughtering six sons of the local wealthy was sure to bring him a lot of unwelcome attention. “Are you really going to fight this coward’s battles for him?” he asked. 
157He could see that the justice of his words struck at least one or two of them. They did not really want to fight at these odds, any more than he did. They realised the dishonour of their act. One or two of them were wavering. Adolphus caught one’s eye and began exerting his will. The youth wavered and said, “I think Kurt should call this man out if he feels so strongly.” 
158Kurt obviously did not like this idea at all. “Are you all cowards? Do you all fear one scurvy outlander so much?” 
159This obvious appeal to their Kislevite patriotism was having as strong an effect as his questioning of their manhood. He could sense the gang wavering once more. “Take him outside and show him what happens to arrogant outlanders who shoot their mouths off in Praag.” 
160Adolphus looked around once more. He could see a lot of sympathetic looks but no offers of help. Obviously this gang of youths was well known and greatly feared around here. There was going to be no other way out than fighting, he could tell. How unfortunate. He only hoped he could restrain his bloodlust. 
161The real problem now was a tactical one. How was he going to deal with this bunch of young thugs without arousing suspicion of his real nature? Perhaps he should simply leave after all. He rose from his chair and loomed over Kurt. “Do not bother yourselves, I am leaving. The smell of yellow-bellied swine is too strong in here for my stomach.” 
162He cursed. What had made him say that? If he had simply strolled confidently for the door, the chances were that they would have let him go. Now there was no chance of that. He knew the answer to his own question. Deep in his heart, he did not want to let these arrogant cattle live. He was as bad as they were. It was not a thought designed to enhance his self-esteem, and he knew he was going to make these youths pay for making him think it. 
163Kurt reached up and grabbed Adolphus’ shoulder. “Oh no, you don’t. You can’t simply walk away from this one, my friend.” 
164Adolphus glared down at him, allowing his anger to show in his eyes. Kurt quailed away and for a moment Adolphus thought he might actually let him walk, but the pig-faced lout was too drunk and stupid to listen to his instincts. He tried to restrain Adolphus who shrugged off his grip easily. 
165“On your own heads be it,” Adolphus said, as he stepped through the doorway, watching the young fools follow him out into the night. 
166He glanced around. They were in an alley. There was no sign of the watch. There were no witnesses about. The idiots had done his work for him. As they slouched out behind him, they made fists, fitted knuckledusters over their hands, drew small weighted truncheons. Experienced tavern brawlers these, he thought. Not that it would do them any good. 
167“Now you’re going to get what you deserve,” said Kurt. 
168“One of us is,” said Adolphus and smiled, for the first time showing all his teeth. In the dim light it took a few moments for the youths to register what they were seeing. Then their faces blanched. Kurt began to scream. 
169Adolphus kept smiling, knowing that he was going to kill them all, and that he had always intended to. 
170  
171TWO 
172  
173  
174Felix looked down from the cockpit of the Spirit of Grungni. Below him he could see a seemingly endless waste of snow and ice. Far off at the horizon was the grey zone where the wastelands met the leaden waters of the Sea of Claws. Cold winds tore at the steel walls of the cupola and made the great gasbag above creak. The noise of the mighty engines was barely audible above the howling of the wind. He glanced across at Malakai Makaisson who stood at the huge control wheel, pulling levers and studying gauges with all the assurance of the experienced pilot. 
175“Are you really going to get 5,000 gold crowns for this, Malakai?” Felix asked. He had been surprised when Max had told him. He had never figured on the Slayer engineer being particularly gold-crazed. On the other hand, he was a dwarf, and a little of that lurked in every dwarfish soul. 
176“Aye, young Felix, ah am! Tae tell the truth ah would have done it fur nithin’ but the bloody icy bezum kept gaun on and on at me, so ah figured ah might as well make it her pay fir it.” 
177Felix nodded: it sounded quite possible. Malakai Makaisson was as stubborn as any other dwarf and did not like being pushed into things. Felix was surprised he had not refused outright. He was quite capable of it, despite the Tsarina’s exalted position. Dwarfs cared little for human titles or nobles. And Slayers didn’t show the least respect for their own rulers, so why should they show it for other races? 
178“So why did you agree to do it?” Felix asked curiously. 
179“Coz she was bloody well right. We dae need tae ken what the Chaos basturds are up tae, and the Spirit of Grungni is the best thing fur the job.” 
180Felix was also a little surprised that Malakai was capable of seeing things so clearly; he normally seemed obsessed with only one thing, his machines. Unlike most Slayers he did not seem to spend much time brooding on his own death or sins. He was not stupid, Felix had to admit, and he supposed that anyone capable of designing this airship had to be only too aware of its military possibilities. 
181A tide of movement out of the corner of his eye caught Felix’s attention. He focused the spyglass on it and the scene jumped into view. He shivered. It was another huge force of beastmen, heading southwards, following the coast of the Sea of Claws. They trudged along with implacable determination, their massive banners fluttering in the breeze. 
182Seeing the symbols of the Chaos gods so nakedly visible filled Felix with horror. They were signs which from his childhood he had been taught to fear and loathe. This one took the shape of an eye from which radiated eight arrows. It was stained in blood on a white sheet, and fluttered on a crossbar made of human bones and topped with the horned skull of some huge monster. “That’s the tenth warband in this area,” said Felix. 
183“How many?” 
184“At a guess over a thousand.” Felix did not need to count them anymore. Over the past few days, flying these reconnaissance missions, he had become quite adept at judging the size of the Chaos forces. “Where are they all coming from?” 
185Suddenly he caught sight of something else, and swiftly focused on it. At first he could not believe his eyes, then slowly the reality of what he was seeing forced itself on his brain. It was a huge ship, driving through the icy sea. It was made all of black metal and no sails were visible. The whole prow was carved in the shape of an enormous daemon’s head. Red runes glowed along its side. 
186“What in hell is making that thing move?” he asked. Malakai Makaisson snatched the spyglass from his hand. 
187“Tak the controls, young Felix, an’ tak us closer tae yonder ship. Ah want tae hae a guid lang look at this.” 
188Felix took the controls with practiced ease and aimed the prow out towards the sea. Malakai had taught him how to fly the ship long ago, and he had had a lot of practice on their trip back from the Chaos Wastes. It was one of the reasons why, along with his keen eyesight, he was the observer on this flight. Such was the airship’s speed that they were soon passing over the turbulent water. 
189“Whit in hell wus right,” said Malakai Makaisson. “Ah cannae see ony paddlewheels, and there’s nae wake that wud indicate some sort of drive screw under the thing. All ah can think o’ is dark magic, an’ that isnae ma field. Cannae think o’ onythin’ else that wud shift somethin’ that big. Bloody hell. I niver guessed they Chaos basturds were capable of ocht like this. It’s movin’ as fast as a steamer under full pressure and it’s as big as onythin’ ah hae ever seen on water.” 
190“That’s all very well, Malakai,” said Felix. “But what does it mean?” 
191“It means ye’d better pray to all your manling gods that they don’t hae a fleet o’ those things, young Felix. Coz if they dae they’ll be able tae land an army onywhere they like alang the coast of the Old World. By Grungni, they could head right up the bloody Reik as far as Altdorf and Nuln.” Felix shivered as Malakai took the controls and returned the spyglass. 
192“I don’t think Sigmar is in the mood to answer any of my prayers,” said Felix. 
193“Why?” 
194“Look over there,” he said, pointing to the fleet of black ships driving headlong through the storm-tossed sea. 
195“Let’s head fir hame,” said Malakai. “Ah think we’ve collected enough bad news fir yin day.” Felix was forced to agree. 
196  
197Felix was glad to be back in Praag, even gladder than he had been to see the lights of the city winking below them and the huge citadel blazing with light ahead. Sitting in the White Boar he was looking forward to getting a hot meal inside him, and then some sleep. These days the airship always seemed cold inside, and no matter how many extra layers of clothing he wore, he could never quite get warm. His mouth felt a bit dry, and there was an odd tingle in his fingers and toes. He hoped he was not coming down with something. 
198All around him he could hear the buzz of conversation, the gossip of all the mercenaries and merchants cooped up in the city by the snows of winter. The guild wanted permission to raise the price of corn once more, but the duke would not approve it. He wanted all of his citizens as well fed as possible, and no starvation. Felix felt that though he could never like the duke, he could respect the man and like his policies. He appeared to be about as fair as it was possible for an aristocrat to be, though Felix had never really lost the suspicion of the ruling class that had been burned into him by his merchant father. 
199It seemed six young nobles had died in a brawl down in the merchant quarter last night. According to rumour they had taken some wealthy foreigner outside to teach him a lesson and never come back. Their corpses had been found in the snow. The guess was that the foreigner must have had bodyguards or friends of his own waiting outside for it was deemed unlikely that one man could best six at blade work or brawling. Felix wasn’t so sure. He had seen Gotrek overcome many times that number in combat and occasionally had done it himself when desperation drove him. 
200Felix pushed the thought to one side. It was no business of his, even if the youths’ families were offering a huge reward to help them find the killer. What did he care? He could just picture the young men, spoiled dandies of the sort he had once been forced to deal with every night in the Blind Pig tavern in Nuln. He could not find it in himself to feel much sympathy with anyone who thought it fun to go outside six against one. Most likely they just got what they deserved. 
201This was not the only tale of slaughter in the night. Another two streetgirls had been found dead and drained of blood. Now there was fearful talk of some daemon stalking the night, and someone had even mentioned the dreaded word “vampire”. Felix shivered. His old nurse had told him chilling tales of the blood drinkers. As a child, he had spent many a sleepless night fearing that one might find its way into his room. He tried to push aside his fears and found that he could not. He had seen far too many other childhood terrors prove to be real in this terrible world. It would not surprise him in the least if one of the soulless ones were abroad in the city. He only prayed he would never encounter it. They were said to be terrible foes. 
202He noticed that one man was paying a lot of attention to this conversation. A tall nobleman, dressed in fashionably foppish clothes, a pomander clutched in one hand. His features were a little pale, perhaps from the powder applied to his face. His eyes were cold and his face wore a look of intense concentration. 
203The man caught Felix looking at him, their eyes met and Felix felt a flicker as of some sort of contact. He was suddenly filled with a desire to look away, but his own native stubbornness would not let him. He matched the stranger’s glare and studied him closely. The man wore his hair in an odd archaic style, cut square to cover his forehead, and long down the sides. There was something about him that made the hair on the back of Felix’s neck prickle. He had the same sort of aura as Max. Most likely a magician then, Felix decided, and someone best not to start trouble with. This time he looked away, just in time to see Ulrika and Max Schreiber enter the White Boar. They strode over to his table with a determined step. What’s got into them, Felix wondered? 
204  
205Adolphus looked up and watched the wizard and the woman enter the crowded tavern room. By all the gods of darkness, she was a beauty. Neither her mannish garb nor the sword she carried could detract from her loveliness. In a strange way they enhanced it. He felt the surge of an attraction the like of which he had not felt in a long time. It was a pity the man she was with wore power like a mantle. 
206In his long existence, Adolphus had encountered few more potent sorcerers. He was skilled enough in the art of magery to recognise a master when he saw one. He only hoped his own cloaking spells were sufficient to keep the man from noticing him. 
207He cursed himself for a fool. He should have stayed at the mansion and studied Nospheratus’ damn book. These nightly peregrinations might prove the end of him. After killing those louts last night, he had come to this squalid place to avoid any more attention. And what was the first thing he had done when he came down to the common room? Seeing the blond man staring at him, he had decided to use his gaze to make the man look away, but the mortal had proven unexpectedly strongwilled and could not be commanded. That in itself was unusual. Now the man had proven himself to be the associate of a master wizard. Perhaps this explained his strong will, perhaps not. Whatever it was, it was a bad thing. He only hoped the mortal would not draw the wizard’s attention to him, that was the last thing Adolphus wanted. He cursed; as so often in his long unlife, it seemed the gods were playing tricks on him. Now, with all his dreams almost within his grasp, nothing was going right. 
208He had given in to his bloodlust last night and slaughtered those young fools like the cattle they were. At least he had had the sense not to drink from them. He had managed to restrain the thirst until later when he had drained those two streetwalkers dry. Despite all his best efforts, he had not been able to resist the compulsion; he had not even wanted to. The thirst had not been so strong in him since he first arose. What was happening to him? What madness was overtaking him? Why did this constant lust for blood burn in his veins like a fever? He did not understand. 
209Perhaps it was this place. Praag was said to be a haunted city. Perhaps the strange forces of the town were working on him. Or perhaps it was the huge Chaos moon burning in the sky and haunting his dreams. He did not know, could not tell. He just knew that it was happening at the worst possible time for him and his plans. If only the old fool would prove more tractable. Adolphus resolved that if he did not give way in the negotiations soon, he would kill the man and have done with it. 
210Even as he thought this, he knew it was another symptom of the madness overtaking him. He knew he must hang on. It was all almost within his grasp. He could not afford any more mistakes now. He rose to return to Osrik’s mansion, taking the back exit. Best to get no closer to that wizard than absolutely necessary. 
211On his way out he paused to take a last long look at the lovely woman. Some night, he promised himself, I will come looking for you. 
212  
213“What is it?” Felix asked. Max and Ulrika seemed both grim and excited at once. 
214“Where is Gotrek?” Max asked. 
215“Out drinking with Snorri Nosebiter. Doubtless if you follow the trail of broken bodies along the street you will find them.” 
216“That’s not funny, Felix,” said Ulrika. Since the split she had taken to using a very cold tone towards him. 
217“I wasn’t joking,” said Felix. “You know what they are like when the mood is on them. What do you want with them anyway?” 
218“We have been offered a job.” 
219“We?” 
220“All of us. You too.” Privately Felix wondered who would be crazed enough to offer a job to a couple of Slayers. Someone pretty desperate, he guessed. Or badly in need of having a lot of violence done. 
221“Does it involve killing big monsters, or fighting against insuperable odds?” Felix asked sardonically. 
222“I don’t think so,” said Max. “At least I don’t know for certain.” 
223“Then they probably won’t be interested.” “There’s a lot of gold involved,” said Ulrika. 
224“That would most likely change things.” 
225“Then let’s go find the dwarfs and introduce ourselves to our potential employer.” 
226“Who is he?” Felix asked, rising and adjusting his sword belt. He noticed the rather sinisterlooking nobleman had vanished. 
227“A distant relative of mine,” said Ulrika. 
228“Half the nobles in this city are distant relatives of yours,” said Felix. 
229“That’s the way it is with Kislevite nobility,” she said, a little huffily Felix thought. 
230  
231The mansion was big and rather impressive in a scruffy down-at-heel sort of way. Felix paused to glance out of the window, taking in the huge pleasure garden, surrounded by spike-tipped walls. The place must be worth a small fortune, he thought, before turning to follow the others. So much space came at a high premium inside the high walls of Praag. 
232Inside the house, bric-a-brac filled every nook and niche. Odd exotic weapons, and masks from the distant Southland lined the corridors through which the elderly servants led them. A porcelain statue of some four-armed monkey god, which Felix guessed was from far Cathay, guarded the entrance to a vast sitting room in which the owner lolled on a huge antique couch. 
233Count Andriev, Ulrika’s distant cousin, rather reminded Felix of a mole. He was a short man, very broad and bulky. He had a huge nose and vast whiskers that drooped below his chin. Little round glasses perched on his mountainous nose and obscured his small weak eyes. The count wore a long silk robe in the Cathayan style. He did not look like much of a warrior, although Ulrika had assured them he had been a famous swordsman in his youth. Now he leaned on a long black walking stick, clutching the silver ball at its tip with clawed arthritic fingers. He gazed around the room, taking them all in. A pull of a bell-cord summoned a tall, lean butler almost as ancient as himself. 
234“Would you — ahem — like anything to drink? Some tea perhaps?” 
235Snorri Nosebiter and Gotrek looked at each other unbelievingly. They seemed to be wondering what they were doing here. They had been lured from the tavern by talk of lavish sums of gold. When Felix had found them they had been busy brawling with some Kislevite horse-soldiers. Felix and the others had stood aside while the two Slayers trounced four times their number before they could get their full attention. 
236“Beer,” grunted Gotrek. 
237“Vodka,” said Snorri. “In a bucket.” 
238“I will have some tea,” said Max. Ulrika nodded. Felix shook his head. He was interested now almost against his will. It was fairly obvious that this old nobleman was wealthy enough to have his own bodyguards, and without a doubt the treasures in this house were worth a lot of money. Why did he need them? More to the point, how had he found out about them anyhow? 
239“What do you want with us, old man?” said Gotrek. Ever the diplomat, Felix thought sourly. 
240Andriev leaned forward. He seemed slightly hard of hearing. There was a faintly crazed glimmer in those weak eyes. “A member of the Slayer cult,” he muttered to himself. “Fascinating.” 
241“I know what I am, dotard. I asked what you wanted with us.” 
242The count cleared his throat and began to speak in a thin, quavering voice. “Forgive me,” he said. “This might take a little time.” 
243“Snorri thinks it would take less time if you got on with it,” said Snorri Nosebiter. Patience was not a strong suit with him, Felix noted. 
244“Ahem — well — yes. I shall begin.” The old man paused and gazed around as if to make sure he had all their attention. Felix was starting to feel a little impatient with Andriev’s querulous manner himself. “I am, as you have probably noticed, a collector of curios, antiques, all manner of ancient and interesting objects. It has been a hobby of mine ever since I was a boy when my grandfather gave me a particularly fine carved war mask from the Southland, a truly exquisite piece, marked with the three sigils of the black gods of Tharoum. It was—” 
245“Perhaps it would be better if you stuck to what you wanted our help with,” suggested Felix as gently as he could. The old man leaned back, looking faintly startled, and put his hand across his mouth as if in surprise. 
246“Of course — ahem — sorry, sorry. I am old and my mind tends to wander. It’s been a while since I had company and well—” 
247“The point,” Felix added, a little more harshly. 
248“Sorry. Yes. As I said, I am a collector of antiquities. Over the years I have acquired many pieces of considerable interest. Some of these pieces are said to be… well, mystical. I am not a sorcerer myself so I can’t really say, but Brother Benedict, my appraiser, assured me this is so.” 
249“So?” said Gotrek. It was obvious that he was fast losing patience. Doubtless he was feeling the lure of the tavern particularly strongly right now. 
250“I have been assured that some of my pieces would be very valuable to mages of a certain sort. After a few incidents among the collecting fraternity many years ago, I paid not inconsiderable sums to mages of the Golden Brotherhood to protect my mansion and my collection with all manner of spells. I believe these spells might have helped preserve my house during the late inconvenience with those Chaos chappies.” 
251Felix wondered how sane the old man was. The siege had been something more than an “inconvenience” to most of the city. On the other hand, he supposed that if he were an old man locked away deep within the city in his own fortified manor house, surrounded by servants and bodyguards, he might have been able to ignore the worst of it too. 
252“So you have some valuable stuff here,” said Gotrek. “So what?” 
253“A few days ago, my appraiser, Brother Benedict, a former priest of Verena who left the temple after an incident which was, he assured me, none of his doing but rather—” 
254“I am sure Brother Benedict is a fine man,” said Max hastily. “But could you perhaps stick to the point.” 
255“Yes, yes, ahem, sorry. A few days ago, a stranger, a nobleman from the Empire who claimed to be interested in purchasing one of my pieces, approached Brother Benedict. Benedict told him that my collection was not for sale, but the offer price was so high that he thought I should know about it. Of course, I love my collection and I would not part with any of it, not even that small chipped piece of Nipponese porcelain with the painting of the two herons—” 
256“Please,” said Felix. “Have mercy.” Ulrika glared at him. She appeared to be the only one capable of tolerating this old bore. All very well for her, he thought. She was his relative, and her head was probably not starting to ache. He rubbed his nose with the edge of his cloak and was unsurprised to discover that it was running. He really hoped he was not coming down with something. 
257“Yes, sorry. Well, I thought it would be interesting to meet a fellow collector. One rarely encounters any kindred souls. My hobby is rather a specialist field and not many people are that interested in it…” 
258Probably it’s you they are not interested in, Felix thought, but kept the thought to himself. Instead he coughed loudly. His cough sounded a bit phlegmy. 
259“Yes, yes. Anyway, I agreed to meet the man. And I don’t mind telling you there was something about him I did not like. Not to put too fine a point on it, he scared me.” “That must have been difficult,” said Gotrek sarcastically. 
260“Ahem, believe me, sir,” said the old man testily. “I am not all that easily daunted. As a youth I rode to battle along side Tsar Radhi Bokha and single handedly slew the great Ogre of Tronso. It was a feat of considerable renown and—” 
261“No one doubts your courage,” said Max. “Please tell us what so frightened you about this man that you felt you needed to make an offer for our services.” 
262“There was something very sinister about him. Something daunting. Something about his eyes… When he looked at me, I wanted to do what he told me, and it took all my willpower to refuse. I think the man was a magician of some sort, and a powerful one. For a moment, after I refused his offer, I thought he was going to attack me, in the presence of my own guards and my own house magician. Brother Benedict thought so too. He said he suspected that only the protective spells in place around the mansion stopped the man from turning nasty. I ordered my guards to escort him from the house, and he went. But he said he would be back, and told me I had seven days to reconsider his offer. This was several days ago.” 
263“Where is Brother Benedict?” 
264“I do not know. Normally he visits me every morning. He has not shown up for two days. This is another reason I am worried. He is a man of regular habits. Only serious illness would have prevented him from coming, but this cannot be the problem. I have sent servants to his house and his office, and he seems to have disappeared.” 
265Felix glanced over at Gotrek and Snorri Nosebiter. They were quieter now and seemed more interested. The mention of evil magicians seemed to have got their attention. The mysterious disappearance of Brother Benedict had gotten his. 
266“Are you sure he has not simply left town.” 
267“Maybe Benny went on a bender,” suggested Snorri Nosebiter. 
268“Impossible on both counts. Brother Benedict would have informed me of his departure. He has been in my employ for twenty years. And as for your suggestion, Herr Slayer, he was an abstinent man. Never touched anything stronger than water. Claimed anything else interfered with his ability to concentrate.” 
269This seemed reasonable to Felix. He had often heard Max claim the same thing. “So your magician has disappeared. Anything else?” asked Gotrek. “Ahem, I think so. The guards report the house is being watched.” “By this mysterious stranger?” Felix asked. 
270“No, by others, well-dressed men and women, trying not to be noticed but obviously — ahem — not good enough at it to escape detection.” 
271“Not a gang of professional thieves then,” said Max. Seeing all eyes on him, the magician shrugged and said, “I used to make my living casting all manner of protective enchantments for people. It has given me some familiarity with the way such people operate.” 
272“That is one reason I wanted to hire you, sir. Your reputation precedes you. The duke himself is said to think highly of you, and my dear kinswoman here says you are the most competent mage she has ever met.” 
273“Why do you need us then?” asked Felix. “Surely you have hired swords enough.” 
274“That is another strange thing about this whole affair. Even before Brother Benedict vanished some of my guards failed to report for duty. Mostly the day guards, the ones who do not live here in the mansion, but even a few of the residents went out and never returned.” 
275“These are strange times,” said Felix. “The city has been under siege. Many folk are starving. Perhaps they left the city. Perhaps they felt they could get more gold or food elsewhere.” 
276“Herr Jaeger, I am, without wishing to appear to be boasting, a very, very wealthy man, and I pride myself on seeing that my people are well taken care of. I doubt they could be better paid or fed anywhere else in this city under current distressing circumstances. My cellars are very well stocked. I keep the house prepared for the harshest of winters. As an old man, in Kislev, you know how to do these things.” 
277“Why not take this matter to the duke?” Ulrika asked. 
278“And tell him what? That one stranger has threatened me in my own house? That my guards are disloyal and my mage has disappeared? The duke has more important things to worry about right now! Why should he trouble himself with one old man’s problems when there is a war on.” “Have you made inquiries why your guards did not report for duty?” asked Felix. 
279“Again, I sent servants. Some were not at their lodgings. In some cases, the servants thought there was somebody at home, but no one was answering.” “That’s very strange,” said Felix. 
280“The whole business is very strange, Herr Jaeger. Which is why I need your help and am prepared to pay handsomely for it.” 
281“How handsomely?” 
282“If you resolve this matter for me, I will pay each of you one hundred gold crowns, plus a bonus depending on how matters turn out.” 
283“That sounds fair to me,” said Felix. A glance at the dwarfs told him that they agreed. 
284It was Max who began to dicker. 
285“Normally I am paid for the spells and wards I cast, separately from any other fees.” 
286“I will pay your normal fees — in addition to the amount mentioned previously.” “Fine.” 
287“Then you will do it?” 
288A glance at the others told him they were all willing to get involved. It seemed it was left to Felix to ask the obvious question: “What was it the stranger wanted to buy from you?” “Come, I will show you.” 
289  
290Count Andriev’s favoured treasures were certainly well protected. The old man had led them into the centre of his mansion, and then down into a cellar guarded by thick walls worthy of an emperor’s tomb. 
291The entrance to the vault was through a series of huge counter-weighted doors. “Dwarf-built,” the old man said proudly. 
292“And protected by several very strong wards, unless I am much mistaken,” said Max. He sounded impressed. 
293“You are not mistaken. The great Elthazar himself cast these for me. I brought him especially from Altdorf two decades ago. You know of him, of course?” 
294“He was one of my tutors at the College of Magicians,” said Max in a neutral tone of voice. “A great wizard but very… conservative.” 
295“You… ahem, sound as if you don’t like him.” 
296“We had a few disputes before I left the College.” 
297“Do you not think his work is good?” 
298“No. I am sure it is very fine. He was very capable and strong in the power.” 
299“I am glad to hear you say this. But if there is anything you feel can be improved do not hesitate to mention it.” 
300“I will not, believe me.” 
301The vault reminded Felix of a cave from some tale of the riches of Araby In it were many precious and beautiful objects: golden statuettes from the deserts of the Land of the Dead; complex patterned amulets from Araby; beautiful carpets from Estalia; detailed dwarf metalwork carved with all manner of intricate patterns, and vials of precious liquids engraved with the flowing scripts of the elves. Felix understood why the old man had spent so much money to protect it. He also understood just how desperate he must be to hire five near strangers to help him guard it. 
302Of course, Ulrika was his cousin, and Max was so renowned in this field of wizardry that the dwarfs had hired him to protect their airship so maybe it was not all that strange. And he supposed Ulrika’s recommendation would be good enough to get the Slayers and himself the job. He considered the fee. One hundred crowns was a small fortune. Enough to allow a man to live like a noble for months. 
303The old man showed them a massive sealed chest. He produced the key from under his robes. The chest and the lock looked like dwarf workmanship too. One thing was certain, Felix thought: he knew how to look after his treasures. 
304“Ah — here it is. The Eye of Khemri,” he said, retrieving a small dark object from out of the strongbox. He held it up to the light. After the long tale, Felix was expecting something more impressive-looking. Max held out his hand: “May I see it?” 
305Count Andriev seemed almost reluctant to hand it over, but Max kept his hand outstretched and eventually the old man gave the object to him. Felix moved closer, standing next to Ulrika so he could look over Max’s shoulder. He saw a small oval carved from what looked like black marble. A central eye gazed out from strange pictograms depicting animal-headed men and women, perhaps representations of some elder gods. The stonework was encased in a silver hand that gripped the disc with pointed talons. The whole amulet depended from an age-blackened silver chain. 
306Felix looked at Max’s face; he saw the wizard was frowning. 
307“What is it?” Ulrika asked. Max pursed his lips and a look of concentration passed across his face. Felix could see dim pinpoints of fire blazing within his eyes and knew that the wizard was summoning his power. 
308“I don’t know,” said Max. “There is something very odd here. The talisman is magical, but seems to contain little power…” “And?” Felix asked. 
309“Why would anyone go to the trouble of obtaining it, if such were the case?” “You are saying this trinket could indeed be a magical artefact?” said Andriev. 
310“Certainly. At this moment I cannot say more. Would you mind letting me study this, count?” 
311“If you do not take it out of the vault, I would be fascinated to learn more. I always assumed it was some relic of the Tomb Kings. The man who sold it to me claimed it had been found in the rubble of Khemri. I always assumed he was exaggerating. Now I am not so sure.” 
312“It is certainly ancient. I have never seen its like before.” 
313“The question is, what are we going to do about the man who wants it? Do we go looking for him or do we wait for him to return?” Felix was not sure he liked the idea of going looking for a magician, even in the company of Max and Gotrek. They were too powerful, and too unpredictable, and too many things could go wrong. Felix had witnessed what Max could do with a wave of his hand and a word, and did not like the idea of standing in the way of a lightning bolt. 
314“No reason why we cannot do both, manling,” said Gotrek, of course exactly what Felix had feared he would say. 
315“Where would we start? Did the stranger give you his name, Count Andriev?” 
316“He said his name was Adolphus Krieger.” “That’s an Imperial-sounding name,” said Max. 
317“Easy enough to give a false name,” said Felix. “Particularly if you are going to go around threatening people, it would seem like a good idea.” 
318“True enough,” said Ulrika. “He must be a very confident man, to threaten a Kislevite noble, in the middle of Praag, in his own palace.” 
319Felix thought about the disappearing magician and the desertion of the guards. 
320“Perhaps he has cause to be. He could be a very powerful magician.” 
321“I’ve killed wizards before,” said Gotrek. Felix wondered why such a feeling of foreboding had come over him. For once, all the odds appeared to be in their favour. They were in a fortified mansion. Max was a sorcerer of great skill, and Gotrek, Snorri Nosebiter and Ulrika were as formidable a trio of warriors as any man could hope to fight beside. Why then was he worried? There was something wrong here. Something troubled him. He wished the feverish feeling would go away. He was having a little difficulty concentrating. 
322“We could start by looking up those guards hiding in their houses,” said Gotrek. “Find out what put the wind up them.” 
323“That seems like a logical starting point,” said Felix, turning the problem over and over in his mind. A few more thoughts occurred to him. 
324“Did Brother Benedict keep records?” Felix asked Andriev. “How did this Adolphus Krieger know you had the Eye? How did he get in touch with Benedict?” 
325“Of course Benedict keeps records,” said Andriev. “He was a meticulous and methodical man, and as a former priest of Verena he was a great believer in written records. You could try his chambers on the Street of Clerks. Tell his scribes I sent you and they should help. As for your other questions I do not know how this Krieger found out I had the artefact, but I can guess.” 
326“If you could share your speculations with us, I would be most grateful,” said Felix. 
327“The market for exotic collectibles is a small one. Few people have the interest, and — ahem — to be frank, the gold to indulge in a hobby like mine. There are a few dealers who make a living in this way and they tend to know all the potential customers in their area. I deal with certain reputable houses in Middenheim and Altdorf. Brother Benedict used to make purchasing trips for me once a year. I used to go myself until I became too infirm. Those were the days, let me tell you, to stand in the great hall at Zuchi & Petrillo’s and gaze upon their collections with my own eyes. It makes me want to weep when I think of all those treasures. I recall—” 
328“You seem to have trusted this Benedict a good deal,” said Felix, interrupting the old man before he could begin another of his rambling reminiscences. 
329“He was a good man, worthy of trust. He accounted for every pfennig he spent, and I was always satisfied with his accounts.” 
330Felix returned to his original line of questioning. “You think this Adolphus might have traced the Eye through the dealers you bought it from, Zuchi & Petrillo?” 
331“They are models of discretion, Herr Jaeger. It’s part of what their clients pay for.” 
332“Men can be bribed or… daunted with sorcery.” 
333“That is true. Yes.” The old man seemed genuinely shocked by the thought that his favourite dealers might have betrayed a confidence. On the other hand, he was not denying the possibility either. 
334“It seems to me that there is another point to be considered here,” said Max. 
335“Goon…” 
336“Why is this Adolphus fellow prepared to go to all this trouble to acquire the Eye? What does he hope to gain from it?” 
337“You’re the magician. You tell me.” 
338“I think it’s imperative I begin studying this artefact,” said Max. “Perhaps if I can divine its purpose I can work out what our friend wants with it.” 
339Felix nodded. That seemed reasonable. “One of us should stay here with you and help watch this place.” 
340“I will,” said Ulrika, rather too quickly for Felix’s liking. 
341“Snorri will too,” said Snorri Nosebiter. “If there’s going to be a fight here, Snorri wants to be around for it. Better than talking to clerks.” 
342Felix looked at Gotrek. “It looks as if we will be asking all the questions.” The Slayer shrugged. “Let’s get on with it then, manling.” 
343  
344The sky was overcast and more snow was falling. Felix could feel the chill right through the extra layers of clothing he wore, and he resolved to use some of the money Andriev was paying them to buy a new pair of boots. As ever there were people watching them. It was not unusual. Gotrek was a colourful figure, although one no one would think of bothering. He showed no sign that the chill bothered him in any way. 
345“What do you think?” Felix asked the Slayer. Around them crowds packed the narrow streets of the merchant quarter. Old buildings leaned over them. It was dark and mazy and he was glad they had paused to get the directions to Benedict’s office from Andriev’s steward before leaving. 
346“I think Count Andriev is a rich old man who can afford to indulge whatever whims he has, manling. I think his gold is as good as anybody else’s.” 
347“You think he’s imagining things?” said Felix. He stepped out of the street to let a patrol of lancers pass. After a moment’s consideration Gotrek did the same. He eyed the horses with hostility. 
348He had never had much love for cavalry or their mounts. 
349“No. I think there is most likely something going on here. Wizard’s business by the sound of it.” “Do you think the others will be all right?” Felix asked. 
350“You have seen Max Schreiber use magic, manling, and you have seen Snorri Nosebiter and Ulrika fight. They are in a fortified mansion surrounded by guards. What do you think?” 
351“That they are most likely safer than we are.” 
352Gotrek grunted as if considerations of personal safety were the last thing on his mind. Felix fought back a cough. There was an odd tickling at the back of his throat, and he seemed to be sweating a little more than normal. He hoped he was not coming down with anything nastier than a cold. 
353“You think it might be Chaos cultists?” he asked. They had encountered followers of the dark gods in the cities of man before. During the siege they had interrupted an attempt by the Chaos worshippers to poison the granaries. Felix did not think they had killed all of them, by a long chalk. 
354“Who knows, manling? Doubtless we will find out soon enough.” Felix wished he could emulate the Slayer’s unconcerned attitude, but knew he would never be able to. His imagination was too active, he thought too much. It probably helped that Gotrek did not care whether he lived or died either. Felix did. He knew that he wanted to live; there was much he wanted to see and do yet. “Doubtless you are right,” he muttered and they trudged on down the street. 
355  
356The Street of Clerks had been mostly untouched by the siege. It was in the old town, within the inner wall, in the shadow of the citadel. The buildings were mostly red-roofed tenements and shophouses. Even in the winter chill people were coming and going. From his long experience of such things in Altdorf, Felix judged them to be merchants and lawyers and the people who ran errands for such men. Winter or no winter, war or no war, business went on as usual. It was just like his father had always said. 
357Brother Benedict had an office in one of the more prosperous-looking buildings, a tall tenement that leaned right out over the alley, joined by a high bridge to the building across the way. With its white-washed walls and timbered frame, it reminded Felix of the buildings in Altdorf, although it was not so high or so beautiful and the gargoyles perched on the ledges over doors and windows were far too grotesque for his home city. 
358They entered the building and made their way up the narrow winding stairs. On the third landing was the office where Andriev’s agent had maintained his business. Felix knocked on the door and then entered. A clerk looked up in surprise as they came in. 
359“What… What do you want here?” Felix handed him a scroll emblazoned with the count’s seal. “We’re here on Count Andriev’s business. I want to check your records.” 
360The man inspected the seal closely and then broke it and read the message on the scroll. “It says I am to give you my fullest cooperation.” 
361The man’s voice sounded querulous. Gotrek showed him a ham-sized fist. “I think that would be a good idea, don’t you.” 
362The man looked at the dwarf and then nodded silently. “Where does your master keep his records?” Felix asked. The clerk indicated a large cabinet. “Keys?” Felix demanded. The man reached into a purse and produced them. Felix tried them and found that they worked. “When did you last see your master?” he asked. 
363“Two days ago.” 
364“Was there anything unusual about his behaviour?” 
365“No. It was just before he locked up for the night. I was about to leave. He lived here in the small flat at the back of the office.” Felix jingled the keys. 
366“Did he meet a stranger here, a noble from the Empire? Adolphus Krieger by name.” 
367“The name sounds familiar. I think he met Krieger here one evening.” 
368“One evening? Isn’t that a little unusual? Normally merchants do their business during the day.” 
369“In our line of work we often meet people at unusual hours — couriers from the Empire, shady characters with something interesting to sell.” 
370“Shady characters?” 
371“Not all collectables are legitimately acquired, Herr Jaeger. And many are quite valuable. Thieves often try and pass them on to new owners. Not all collectors are as scrupulous about such things as the count; not all brokers as scrupulous as my master either.” 
372“Your master worked exclusively for the count?” 
373“Yes. Since before I was apprenticed. Over a decade ago.” 
374“Do you remember anything about an artefact that might have come from Araby? The Eye of Khemri.” 
375“I do. We purchased it for the count about two years ago. It was part of a collection belonging to an elderly merchant in Nuln, a very good one with many exquisite pieces. To me the Eye seemed nothing special, but my master thought it might be magical. He should know — he was a wizard after all.” 
376“Magical?” 
377“Nothing special. Some sort of protective talisman. Old; most likely the power in it had drained away over the years. He thought it came from Khemri in the Land of the Dead.” 
378You wouldn’t have to be an expert to make that deduction, Felix thought. He could have made it himself. Still he was a little disturbed. The Land of the Dead had an evil reputation. It had once been the oldest of human kingdoms but had fallen into desolation millennia ago. Felix had never read anything good about the place, and a lot that was terrifying. All of the inhabitants were rumoured to have died of some terrible plague, and the cities were said to be vast haunted tombs. Worse than that, it was said to be the original home of the Great Necromancer, Nagash, a name which had been used to frighten children for hundreds of years. Felix said as much to the clerk. 
379“Nehekharan relics are particularly prized by certain collectors. It was the oldest human civilisation in the world. Its people were civilised two millennia before the time of Sigmar.” 
380“Civilised was not a word I would have used to describe them,” said Gotrek. It no longer surprised Felix when the Slayer displayed unexpected depths of knowledge. The dwarf kingdoms were far older than the kingdoms of man, and the dwarfs kept extensive records in their great books. 
381“Go on,” said Felix. 
382“They were half savages who built huge cities for their dead. They practised all manner of dark magic. Their nobles drank the blood of innocents in depraved ceremonies intended to prolong their own lives. They studied dark magic and daemon summoning.” 
383Felix could remember reading about such things in the great library of Altdorf University. He also remembered other things. 
384“They were not all bad. There were many city-states. The rulers of some fought against the blood drinkers. And Alcadizaar fought against Nagash himself and destroyed him for a time.” 
385“Be that as it may, manling, they all fell into darkness in the end. Their cities are terrible places, haunted by the restless dead. Believe me. I have seen them.” 
386“You’ve seen them?” 
387“Aye, and it’s not a sight I would care to look upon again.” 
388“What were you doing there?” 
389Gotrek looked at him and shrugged. He said nothing. Felix knew that unless the dwarf wanted to tell him, he would learn nothing. He was surprised. He knew the Slayer had gone through many adventures before they met, but Felix had never suspected he had travelled to the distant lands east of Araby. 
390“We don’t have all day” said Gotrek. “If you’re going to check the records here, you’d best get on with it.” 
391“What are you looking for?” asked the clerk. 
392“I’ll know when I find it,” said Felix. “You can go now. Have lunch,” he said. The man looked at him for a moment. 
393“You can read?” he asked. Felix wasn’t surprised. Reading was not a common skill. “Yes,” said 
394Felix. He jerked a thumb at Gotrek. “So can he.” 
395“I will leave you to it then, unless you want some help.” 
396“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Felix went over to the record cases and opened them. He picked the ledger that had been worked on most recently and began to skim through it. As he told the clerk, he was not sure what he was looking for; he only hoped that they would find some clue, and that Max was having better luck than they were. 
397  
398Max Schreiber stared at the Eye of Khemri. The more he looked, the more convinced he became that there was something odd about it. 
399He inspected the stone closely. He had seen its like before during his early studies at the College. He was certain that it was obsidian, a stone often used by the ancient Nehekharans. He was less certain about the pictograms. He had never undertaken any particular studies of that obscure and near forgotten language. It was a field only necromancers studied closely, and Max had never felt any great interest in that dark and dangerous art. 
400There was something about this talisman that niggled at him though, a subtle wrongness that Max could not quite put his finger on. The thing seemed to have a faint residue of dark magic, as if it had once been used to store dark magical energy. Such unholy objects were common enough, and Max had encountered many of them in his travels. The Eye had obviously once been used to contain such energies, and they had long since been discharged. At least they appeared to have been. Max was not entirely sure that they had been totally used up. He knew he would need to employ some complex divinatory spells to ascertain whether that was the case. Before he did that though, there were a few elementary precautions he wanted to take, just in case of mishaps. 
401He closed his eyes and focused his magesight, then reached out to bind the winds of magic to him. It was difficult here. The mansion was woven around with protective spells and this vault was the most densely defended area within it. It would be near impossible for anybody save a master wizard to draw any power at all here. Fortunately Max was a master, and he did not require much energy for what he had in mind. 
402He felt the power slowly trickle into him. He had not felt the flows of energy this weakly since he was an apprentice. Much as Max disliked Elthazar, he had to admit the old wizard knew his business. The spell walls were tight and strong. It took all of Max’s efforts to maintain his concentration and tie the simple weave around the talisman. It took much longer than it normally would have, and by the time he was finished Max was sweating profusely. He felt drained and ill but he knew that his spell was in place. He studied the matrix of energies around the talisman closely, nipped off a loose flow here, tightened a skein there, until he was completely satisfied that the spell would hold for as long as he wanted it to. Good, he thought, the first stage of the work was complete. 
403Now it was time to begin his examination. He opened his mage-sight to the fullest and disregarded his own weave. He let his vision roam over the Eye, seeking out any slight hint that the thing was not what it appeared to be. At first nothing would come. He could tell just from the aura of the thing that it was old, and that it had indeed once held a fair amount of dark magic. It appeared to be the sort of talisman that any reasonably powerful necromancer would create to help him with his casting, one that had long ago served its purpose and discharged all its energies. It appeared to be a worthless burnt-out relic. Had he not had reason to think otherwise Max would have ended his examination there and then. But he did have reason and his curiosity was piqued and he was not a man to give up easily once his need to know was aroused. 
404He continued his search, focusing his magesight ever more closely on the talisman, seeking any hint of abnormality, the slightest trace that it was not quite what it seemed. He had heard of such things before. Mages sometimes camouflaged powerful artefacts with cloaking spells to prevent their enemies knowing their worth and purpose until it was too late. 
405Max suspected that something like this might be the case with the Eye but so far he had failed to find any evidence of it. If the thing was cloaked, then someone had done a truly masterful job. Max doubted that the mighty high elf mage Teclis himself could have hidden anything from the kind of minute examination he was giving the Eye, and still he found nothing. 
406The thought crossed his mind that perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps this talisman was simply just what it appeared to be, and there was nothing to be gained from any further examination. Max considered this and then considered the possibility that the thought might have originated outside his own mind, that it was in fact some sort of subtle suggestion spell placed on the Eye itself. 
407Part of him wondered that this might be taking suspicion too far; another part of him sincerely believed that no master magician could ever take suspicion far enough. There were far too many subtle snares that could be placed by jealous rivals. He inspected his mental defences and found them unbreached. He felt like laughing. Any suggestion subtle and potent enough to worm through his hard-held mental shields would certainly be able to hide any such tampering after the fact. This was getting him nowhere. 
408Once again, he returned to his painstaking search, fixing his fullest attention on finding any discrepancies in the aura of the stone. There! What was that? Perhaps nothing. Just the faintest hint of an echo of magical current, a strange resonance of an old spell. Max almost ignored it, and then realised that it was the only thing he had spotted so far. He focused his mind on it, drew on whatever magical power he could and followed the resonance trace. 
409It was like touching gossamer, a trace so faint that for several heartbeats Max was not sure that he had encountered anything at all. Perhaps he was imagining it. At first it truly seemed as if there was nothing there, then he noticed just the faintest hint of a weave so thin and so complex it seemed well nigh impossible that any human sorcerer could have woven it. He moved his awareness to a new level, shutting out all external visual stimuli and the pattern expanded to fill his field of vision. 
410As certainty bloomed within him Max was suddenly overcome with awe. He knew he was looking on spellwork of the highest order, far beyond anything he himself could perform, possibly far beyond anything anyone now living could perform. Someone had bound the most slender filaments of dark magical energy into the talisman in a way that was almost beyond Max’s ability to perceive, let alone unravel. And they had done this beneath a cloaking spell so subtle that Max had almost missed it entirely. 
411Max knew that he was dealing with the work of one of the true masters. Perhaps the mysterious Adolphus Krieger did have a good reason for wanting this thing after all, although, as yet, Max could discern no hint of the thing’s purpose. He was guided only by the suspicion that it was no good one. Few indeed were those who worked with dark magical energies for the benefit of mankind. He checked and rechecked his mental defences and wove the swiftest, most powerful wards around himself before continuing. 
412By concentrating all his powers he could just about manage to make out the pattern. He selected one thin strand of energy and began to follow it. It was an exercise he had performed many times during his apprenticeship, studying the weaves of spells cast by his tutors: now the stakes were much higher. He knew he truly had to be careful now. Anyone capable of going to so much trouble to shield the true power of the talisman was more than capable of leaving booby traps for those who might seek to uncover its secrets. 
413He traced the weave slowly, gingerly, like a man advancing along a rotten wooden bridge over a chasm that he knows might give way at any moment. Slowly he began to discern the order and logic of the pattern. There was some sort of zone of compulsion locked on the talisman, designed to affect minds other than human, although what sort was not entirely clear. That spell was layered over and interwoven with several other spells. Max could see that the user could somehow draw on the energies of dark magic through a lattice so subtle and powerful that it filled his mind with the sort of awe that an architect might feel in the inner sanctum of the great Temple of Sigmar in Altdorf. Max knew, without doubt, that he was looking on a work of genius. 
414As he continued he saw that these spells were interwoven with dozens of others, the purposes of which he could not divine. It was breathtaking. He no longer doubted that Adolphus Krieger, or whatever his real name was, really did want the Eye. If he had even an inkling of the thing’s true power, any dark magician would kill for this artefact. 
415Overcome with fascination, Max continued to trace the weave, overwhelmed by the subtle labyrinth of power that someone had created. He let his awareness slide along the intricate sweeps and curves of magical power, following them ever faster, certain as he reached towards the core of the design that he would be able to unravel its purpose fully and completely. 
416Faster and faster his mind raced along, his magesight sweeping to the very centre of the pattern. He felt excitement build within him, as if soon all the innermost secrets of the magical universe might be revealed to him. Too late part of him realised the unnatural nature of the feeling. Too late part of him realised that the Eye was indeed trapped. 
417Frantically he tried to shore up his mental walls, knowing that soon an assault would come. Even as he did so, his awareness finally reached the centre of the elaborate magical structure. At that moment, just before the wave of blackness swept over him, Max saw that the creator of the Eye, in a fit of megalomania or vanity, had left his signature upon the thing. Doubtless he wanted anyone who had unravelled his secrets to know their author before they were destroyed. 
418Looking upon that mystical seal, as certain and as recognisable to any fellow mage as handwriting, Max felt himself overcome with wonder and terror. Before the darkness took him, he knew without doubt the identity of the Eye of Khemri’s creator, and he was very, very afraid.  
419  
420THREE 
421  
422  
423“What have you found out, manling?” asked Gotrek. He sounded bored and annoyed and Felix did not blame him. Several hours of searching Brother Benedict’s records had revealed next to nothing. The Eye of Khemri had been purchased from Zuchi & Petrillo’s in Altdorf, part of a lot sold to the auction house by the widow of one Baron Keinster of Warghafen. Felix had never heard of him, but it was hardly surprising. There were many old noble families in the Empire, far too many for anyone to ever keep track of. All he knew was that Warghafen was a small town near Talabheim, which was not a great deal of help. He coughed again, feeling a little shivery. There were references to a meeting with Adolphus Krieger. There were even two letters from the man, written in bold flowing Imperial script, requesting a meeting with Benedict and his patron, and referring to Krieger as a fellow enthusiast of antiquities. The address given was in Middenheim and they referred to an upcoming visit to Praag. There was no way to check the address now, unless Malakai Makaisson could be persuaded to take the Spirit of Grungni all the way to the mountain city state, and given the present circumstances that seemed like a frivolous use of his time. Anyway, Malakai was preparing to leave the city and head back to Karak Kadrin to ferry more dwarf troops into Praag for when the war renewed in spring, if not before. He had better things to do than go on a wild goose chase after someone who had most likely not been using his own name and address. Felix took the letters anyway. At least they were evidence that the mysterious Krieger existed and was not some figment of Andriev’s imagination. 
424“Not much,” he told the Slayer. “Benedict was a meticulous man, and he recorded all of his appointments, but there is not the slightest clue as to where he is and why he disappeared.” 
425“Time to visit the mysteriously deserting guards then.” 
426Felix nodded. He could not think of anything else to do. They had wasted the whole afternoon and a good part of the early evening here. 
427  
428Adolphus stalked through the snowbound streets. His cloak was drawn tight about him; its hood obscured his features. In the present weather conditions no one would find this in the least surprising. The streets were near empty, and those who were abroad this evening were often even more muffled than he. Adolphus still felt a little weary. Like all his kind, daylight slowed him and hurt his eyes. Too much exposure to the light of the sun would leave him badly burned and in considerable pain, and it would take a good deal of warm, fresh blood to heal him. 
429He was feeling a little torpid. He knew that he had been feeding too much recently and too much blood could be as bad for him as too little. His head ached. His thoughts were restless and hard to focus. He wondered if some of the blood he had drunk was tainted, or whether he was succumbing to one of the insidious madnesses that the centuries sometimes brought to his kind. Once, when young and desperate, he had drunk the blood of a mutant whose veins had been tainted with warpstone. That had given him a similar feeling to this, only not nearly so bad. 
430It was hard to concentrate. Anger burned deep within him. He felt an urge to rend and tear, to find prey and simply kill for the sake of killing. He fought hard for control. He did not need this, not now, not with so much at stake, not with the talisman he had sought for so long and so hard this near at hand. He needed all his wits about him, in case the others got wind of what he was up to. If the countess or some other representative of the Council of Ancients should learn of his presence here and divine his purpose, all might yet be lost. After all, they were as familiar with Nospheratus’ prophesies as he, even if they were too gutless to try to fulfil them. No, he could not afford any mistakes. 
431Could it be that he wanted to fail? He had seen stranger things happen in his long existence. He had known some of his kind who used long quests to keep themselves motivated and interested, but who had allowed themselves to falter and fade once they had fulfilled their purpose. Maybe part of him wanted to avoid such a fate. 
432He sensed that he was being watched, and allowed his awareness to balloon outwards. Footsteps padded after him. He could tell there were only two of them, and that they were not too close. Footpads most likely and desperate ones, to be abroad on a night like this. He speeded his step. He had business to be about this evening, and did not want to be distracted. He had wasted too much time in negotiations with the stubborn old man. It was time to take more direct measures. He had sent out his manservant Roche to summon the coven. It was a risk he would have to take; if the council’s agents found out about it, then too bad. The hour was getting late. He had other things to worry about. He wanted to find the Eye before the madness fully overwhelmed him. Perhaps with the talisman he could overcome its effects. Or perhaps the madness was a product of this accursed city, in which case the sooner he left the better. 
433He realised that as he had increased his speed, so had his pursuers. He shook his head, trying to fight off the urge to turn on them and rend them asunder like a beast of prey. Quietly, he told himself. Be calm. There is no need for this. The beast that had taken up residence in the back of his head told him differently. The men were fools and they needed to die. It was an insult that such cattle dared to pursue him. Their rightful role was prey, not predator, and he should teach them the error of their ways. 
434He slowed his pace. His pursuers were committed now. They came on as swiftly as before. How well he knew that feeling. The decision had been made. It was time to close for the kill. He waited until the last minute before turning to meet them. Two men, as he had known there would be. Medium height. Wrapped in thick tunics. His keen eyes picked out every stitch of the patches. Their faces were intent. Long knives glittered in their hands. They intended to show no mercy. They were going to kill him and take whatever he had — or so they thought. 
435Adolphus did not even bother reaching for his sword. He knew he did not need it. The humans moved with appalling slowness compared to him. As the first reached him, Adolphus stretched out his arm, easily sliding round his attacker’s clumsy strike and grabbing his throat. One quick jerk and the man’s neck broke. Adolphus felt the vertebrae grind beneath his fingers, saw the light go out of the man’s eyes. The robber’s partner had not even realised what had happened yet; Adolphus did not intend to give him time to. 
436He decided he would teach this foolish mortal the meaning of horror. He punched out with his hand. Such was the force of the blow that his fist penetrated flesh and dug deep into the man’s abdomen. Adolphus felt wet slimy things surround his hand. With the expertise that only centuries could bring he reached out and closed his fingers. Something squished; there was a curious gurgling sound as he ripped it free. 
437The man only started to scream when Adolphus held a slab of meat up before his eyes. It took the robber a moment to realise that it was his own liver. 
438  
439The guard lived in no salubrious area, Felix thought. No matter what Andriev claimed about paying his watchmen well, it was obvious that the money did not go on rent. The tenement was old. Rats watched them with glittering eyes as they made their way up the alley. Felix was uncomfortably reminded of the skaven he had encountered in Nuln. 
440The door swung open on partially broken hinges. There was a grinding sound as the wood dragged across stone. The place smelled of cheap cooking oil and chamber pots, and too many people cramped too close together. Perhaps, Felix told himself, things had been better before the siege, before so many people had been made homeless, but somehow he doubted it. This building had the look of a place that had been allowed to go to seed a long time ago. 
441As they entered, he became aware that other eyes than those of rodents were watching. An old woman glared at them. 
442“Wot you want?” she demanded, in a harsh, cracked voice that reminded him of a parrot’s screech. 
443“We’re looking for Henrik Glasser, grandmother. Have you any idea where we might find him?” 
444“He owe you money too does he? And I’m not your grandmother!” 
445“No. We just wish to talk to him.” 
446“You don’t look like the sort that just come around for a quiet conversation, and Henrik ain’t much of a one for small talk either.” 
447“Just tell us where to find him, hag, and less of the backchat,” said Gotrek. His voice sounded even more flinty than usual. The old woman looked as if she was going to say something cutting, but a glance at the Slayer’s brutal features and one mad eye convinced her otherwise. 
448“Up the stairs, first landing. Door on the left,” she said, and disappeared into her cubbyhole beneath the stairs rather more quickly than she had emerged. Felix heard a key turn in the lock. 
449“We don’t want no trouble here,” she shrieked once the door was securely in place behind her. 
450“This is a respectable house.” 
451“And my mother was a troll,” muttered Gotrek. “Come on, manling, we don’t have all evening.” 
452Felix strode up the stairs. Ten heartbeats later, he was banging on Henrik Glasser’s door. There was no answer. He glanced down at the Slayer. 
453“There’s someone in there,” said Gotrek. “I can hear breathing.” 
454Felix could hear nothing but he had learned long ago that the Slayer’s ears were far keener than his own. “Open up, Henrik!” he shouted. “We know you are in there.” Still no answer. 
455“If you don’t open up by the time I count to three, I’ll break the door down,” said Gotrek. Felix could hear no sound of movement. He looked at the dwarf. 
456“Three,” said the Slayer, and his axe smashed the door to kindling. 
457“That wasn’t very nice,” said Felix, leaping through the doorway. 
458“He wasn’t going to answer, manling.” 
459The stench of the place slapped Felix in the face, then rammed two fingers up his nostrils just to get his attention. The place reeked of unwashed clothing, unwashed flesh and uneaten food, as well as a lot of rotgut booze. A solitary candle guttered on a plate sitting on a broken table in the middle of the room. Felix heard rather than saw something slithering away out of the corner of his eye. 
460Gotrek was already past him and in a moment, had dragged a pale-faced, fearful man into the light. 
461“What do you want with me? Keep away! I won’t tell you nothing,” said the man. 
462“We’ll see about that,” said Gotrek. His tone conveyed as much menace as a wolfs warning growl. 
463“All we want are the answers to a few questions.” 
464“I don’t have any money,” said the man. “I told Ari that, and I’m telling you the same. Maybe next week. Maybe once I find some more work. Breaking my arms won’t help. Ari will never get repaid that way.” 
465“We’re not from Ari,” said Felix. 
466“It’s no use threatening me. I don’t have the cash. Tell Ari gold doesn’t grow on trees, you know.” 
467“We’re not from Ari. We just want to ask you a few questions.” 
468“You’re not from Ari?” 
469“No.” 
470“Then you have no right to come bursting through my door like that.” 
471“Says who?” said Gotrek in his most menacing voice. 
472The man looked as if he wanted to say something smart but then thought the better of it. Felix did not blame him. When he wanted to, the Slayer projected more menace than a school of sharks. 
473“We’re from your former employer, Count Andriev. Remember him?” Felix asked. 
474The man nodded. He looked a bit saddened. A little grieved even. “I never worked for the count, that was my brother, Henrik.” 
475“You’re not Henrik Glasser?” 
476“No. Pauli. Henrik’s gone. He vanished. Not that I blame him, mind you. Winter’s been hard, there was the siege and all. I figured he just got fed up working for that old madman and shipped out with a caravan.” 
477“There’s no caravans leaving Praag at this time of year,” said Felix. “None coming in either.” 
478“Is too, if you know where to look.” 
479“What do you mean?” asked Felix. He had the feeling he already knew. 
480“Smuggling’s always profitable, particularly at times like now, what with the duke’s tax collectors clamping down and all. You get my meaning?” 
481“Only too clearly.” He remembered his father’s constant grumbling about tax collectors in Altdorf and the fact that his old man had many connections with smugglers. It was one of the things that had built the Jaeger company to the size it was. Felix could see only too clearly how such things came about. There were always men willing to make a dishonest penny or two, even in times of catastrophe. 
482“You think your brother left with smugglers?” 
483“Where else would he be? He might have left me some word though, instead of running off without a by your leave and us owing on the rent and all. I don’t suppose you could see your way clear to lending me a couple of silver pieces, just until I get some work and…” 
484Felix looked at the man, not quite believing his cheek. “How long has your brother been gone?” 
485“A couple of days. About that silver — one would be enough.” 
486“Anything else unusual about his disappearance? Aside from the fact he left no word of his going.” 
487“I will have to replace that door after all. Old Gerti is most particular about things like that, and you two did smash it—” 
488“It’s not the only thing I’ll smash, if you don’t start answering the questions,” said Gotrek. Felix fumbled for his purse, as if he was considering looking in it for money. He knew the value of the carrot and the stick when it came to getting answers. 
489“No. Except he never told Nell, his girl, either, and they were close as two thieves in a thicket. 
490Closer. She’s been round a few times asking for him and doesn’t believe I don’t know where he is.” “I don’t believe you either,” said Gotrek. He raised his axe menacingly. 
491“There’s no need for that. I’ve told you all I know. Honest. As Ulric is my witness, why would I lie about it? To tell the truth, I wish you luck finding my brother. Remind him about his share of the rent when you see him.” 
492Felix looked at the Slayer. He could tell they were thinking the same thing. There was nothing more to be learned here. 
493“This is a bit of a wild goose chase,” Felix said, drawing his cloak closer against the cold. The Slayer glared off into the darkness. 
494“Tell me about it, manling.” 
495“Well, at least we know that Krieger or someone calling himself that exists, and that Andriev wasn’t lying about his guards or his tame wizard disappearing. I don’t think we need check on any of the others. I have a pretty good idea of what we will find. I don’t think Pauli will be seeing his brother again.” 
496The Slayer nodded once again. 
497“Back to the mansion then.” They trudged into the night and the deepening snow. 
498  
499Adolphus glanced around the room. It was warm. It was luxurious. Osrik always liked to do well by himself, and his guests. He could smell wine and fresh cooked food and blood — lots of human blood. Thick hangings of brocade covered the windows, keeping out the night chill. Portraits of noble ancestors covered the walls. The carpets were thick, the furniture old and polished and heavy. The place suited the wealth of its other occupants. They looked on him with adoring eyes. 
500He was used to it now. He had selected them himself, just after he reached the city. Some of them he had known in other places, and other times. He had first met Baroness Olga nearly a decade ago. He had drunk from her veins in a scented garden in the warm south of Bretonnia, and she had been his willing slave ever since, finding new chattels for him, introducing him to other nobles, ensuring that his coven grew in size and influence. 
501She had proven most useful, although her thinness and the sickly light in her eyes told him that soon she would be fading. Standing too close to the sun was not good for mortals. Being on intimate terms with the Arisen had a tendency to drain them of youth and strength before their time, if they were allowed to survive at all. 
502Not that it mattered. There were always others willing to step up and take their place. Their owners always fascinated the cattle. None knew better than Adolphus the way the aura of immortality and power and beauty affected them. He had been overwhelmed by it himself when he had first met the countess all those centuries ago, and she had chosen him. 
503And that was what this was all about, he knew. Being chosen. All of these rich and powerful people present this evening hoped that eventually he would grant them the embrace. All of them knew it was unlikely he would choose to, but the hope of it kept them going, motivated them to do what Adolphus wanted willingly. Not that they had much choice anyway. He had tapped all of them for blood and that created a bond that was hard for all but the strongest to break. 
504He looked at them again. Everyone present had surrendered their will to him gladly. They were all in his thrall, would gladly do whatever he required of them. He felt nothing but contempt for them all. They were slow, stupid, greedy, ugly, grasping, foolish. They had all turned their backs on conventional morality, on all their old gods, and they had raised him up in their place. It was written all over their faces. He wondered whether this was what it felt like to be a god. Perhaps they were the only creatures left, aside from the Arisen, with whom he had anything in common. Perhaps the world was not divided between predators and prey, as he had always thought; perhaps it was divided between worshipped and worshippers. 
505Where were these thoughts coming from? Why was he thinking them now? It did not matter what these people were or who they thought they were. All he really needed them for was tools. Like all the followers of the Arisen, they provided money, blades, adulation and blood. That was all they were really good for. 
506He looked around once more. There were nobles here, men and women who craved immortality the way a drunkard craves drink. They were all rich and powerful, that was why they had been chosen, but right at this moment they looked like a group of desperate children keen to be the one chosen for the favour of a distant parent. Good. That was the way he liked to keep them. 
507The only one who stood out was Roche. His hulking servant stood to one side, a cynical smile on his brutal pockmarked face, the fingers of his massive strangler’s hands intertwined in a parody of prayer. Roche knew what was going on. Roche had seen the likes of the coven before, and he shared his master’s contempt for them. He was secure of his place in Adolphus’ favour, just as his father had been, and his grandfather before him. Roche’s family had served Adolphus for generations. In them he had placed as much trust as he placed in any mortal. They looked after his interests among the mortals, guarded his crypt while he slept, drove his coach in the daylight when he travelled, spoke with his voice to the cattle when he did not need to be present. Roche was a servant, but he knew he possessed more power than many lords and that arrogance was written on his face. Adolphus did not mind, just so long as he remembered who was truly the master here. Perhaps this evening he would allow Roche to pick out one of the noble women and begin breeding his successor. After all, Roche was not getting any younger; his close-cropped hair was iron grey now, and the lines around his eyes were deep. So soon, Adolphus thought. Mortal lives passed like those of mayflies. 
508Adolphus studied his slaves, wondering if he really needed them. He had disposed of most of old Andriev’s guards, and the corpse of the greedy magician would not be found until the spring thaw. Either the old man would give him the talisman at the price he offered, or he would take it from his cold, dead hands. At the moment the latter option seemed preferable. Subtlety was no longer going to get him anywhere. He had made himself too visible now. If the countess or any of her agents were in the city, then it would be only too obvious to them that another of the Arisen was also present. 
509He could see that one of his followers, the fat merchant Osrik, was desperate to speak. The man obviously felt he had something important to say. He rubbed his double chin and his oiled hair, his eyes fixed on Adolphus with blazing intensity. He wondered if he should let the man suffer a bit longer but dismissed the idea. A god should be above such petty games. 
510“What is it, Osrik? You seem keen to speak.” 
511“Yes, master, I have important news to impart to you.” He ignored the glares of the rest of the coven, all of whom were equally desperate for Adolphus’ attention. The image of a sultan in his harem sprang into Adolphus’ mind. It was not an idea he liked. 
512“Then go on, share this revelation with us all,” said Adolphus mockingly. The coven smiled at his tone. One thing they could always be relied on to do was toady well. 
513“As you know master, I have had my agents watching old Count Andriev’s house day and night.” 
514“I commanded nothing less.” 
515The old man has had visitors’ If Adolphus’ heart had still beaten it would have skipped a beat now. Immediately, he assumed the countess or some other agent of the council had found out what he was doing. 
516“Who?” he asked calmly. He had centuries of practice at concealing his emotions, and it never did to show any dismay in front of the cattle. 
517“He has summoned aid. A magician and two dwarf Slayers, as well as a pair of human warriors.” Adolphus allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. These did not sound like any agents the countess would have used. Dwarfs were almost never part of any coven. There was something about their blood that disagreed with most of the Arisen. 
518“This hardly sounds like a major problem, Osrik.” 
519“The magician is very powerful, master. He is an advisor to the duke. I have made enquiries and found out a few more things about him. His name is Maximilian Schreiber. He is famous for casting protective enchantments. He was an advisor on such things to the Elector Count of Middenheim and has been employed by the Duke of Praag in a similar role. By all accounts, he is a very formidable magician.” 
520This was sounding less promising. Adolphus feared few mortals, but mages of the first rank were a cause for caution. Given time to cast their spells they could prove a threat to even one of the Arisen. It seemed that the old man was not going to give in without a fight. 
521The madness that lurked in the back of Adolphus’ mind welcomed this; more deaths, more blood, more killing. He had to fight back the urge to show his fangs. 
522“I believe we can overcome any single mage.” 
523“The Slayers too are formidable.” Adolphus allowed a smile to crease his features. He feared no mortal warriors. 
524“I do not think we need trouble ourselves with them,” he said confidently. To his surprise, he saw that Osrik looked troubled, almost as if he wanted to contradict Adolphus. That was unusual for a coven member. He was about to dismiss the fat merchant’s qualms but some instinct told him not to. “I can see you are troubled, Osrik. Why don’t you tell us why?” 
525The fat man sighed. His blubbery cheeks shook. “One of the Slayers is Gotrek Gurnisson. I met him once on the walls of the city before the siege. He is terrifying.” 
526It was interesting, Adolphus thought, that Osrik could describe this Gotrek Gurnisson as terrifying. After all, Osrik was a coven member and had encountered one of the Arisen. After that, few mortals were impressed by anything less. This Slayer might indeed prove to be a problem. His fame had reached even Adolphus’ ears. The dwarf had become quite famous during the siege. He was said to be the possessor of a magical axe and had slain the Chaos warlord Arek Daemonclaw. He had rallied the defenders on the walls at the height of the siege and was even said to have destroyed the great daemonic siege engines. Adolphus had been deep in slumber at the height of the battle so he had not witnessed this for himself. 
527Adolphus rubbed his forehead. He had bad experiences with dwarf rune weapons in the past, at the battle of Hel Fenn. He knew that they could hurt him and from all he had heard the Slayer was very skilled with his axe. Even so, Adolphus doubted that he would prove much of a threat, but it never paid to take chances. 
528“You have done well, Osrik. And you appear to be thorough. Who are the other mercenaries the old man has hired?” 
529“With all respect, master, they are not mercenaries. One of them is a noblewoman, Ulrika Magdova, daughter of the March Boyar Ivan Petrovich Straghov, and a distant relation of Count Andriev. The other Slayer is a certain Snorri Nosebiter, a dwarf of great strength. The last one is Felix Jaeger, a swordsman and associate of Gotrek Gurnisson’s. He too played a major part in the siege of the city and enjoys the favour of the duke.” 
530This was getting worse and worse, thought Adolphus. It was as if the Old Powers were intervening to thwart him. If the count appealed to Ulrika’s father then he could have a small army of troops at his disposal. Adolphus was familiar enough with Kislevite politics to know that the march boyar had the ear of the Tsarina and, if the others had the ear of the duke, a formidable coalition of foes could be raised against him. In numbers, even the cattle could prove dangerous. Worse, if this Max Schreiber was a competent wizard, and by all accounts he appeared to be, then he might unravel the true nature of the talisman and seize it for himself. 
531Adolphus snarled and all of the coven shivered and looked pale. He realised that unconsciously he had allowed his fangs to extrude from his gums. It was not a sight that most mortals looked upon without qualms. Events were running out of his control. All of this time, he had been worried about the countess or the council finding out his plans, and now it appeared he had been blindsided by a stupid, old madman. He knew that he would have to act quickly now. The time for waiting was past. Even if it meant revealing his presence to any Arisen in the city, he would have to act, and act quickly before the mortals could assemble their forces to stop him. 
532He had spent far too long tracking down the talisman to allow himself to be thwarted now. He was the Prince of Night. He would fulfil the Prophesies of Nospheratus. If anyone got in his way at this late stage then they would have to die. 
533He began giving instructions to the coven. He knew with their aid, he could assemble a small army of henchmen quickly. Which was good, he thought, for it looked as though he was going to need one. 
534  
535Ulrika looked down at Max. She was worried. A few hours ago the wizard had screamed and fallen from the chair in which he sat. The odd talisman lay near his hand. Ulrika had checked and found out that Max was still breathing and his heart still beat albeit slowly, but nothing she could do would wake him. She had sent out for a physician but there had been nothing the man could do either. Now Max lay unconscious on the floor of the vault. It did not look as if he would be awakening any time soon. 
536Ulrika felt helpless, and it was not a feeling she liked. She owed Max Schreiber for saving her from the plague, and she had not had a chance to repay the debt. Now there seemed to be nothing she could do. It would take another wizard or perhaps a priest to revive Max. She wondered if she should send word to the Temple of Shallya, or to the duke. She was beginning to wish she had never become involved in any of this strange business. She could just have ignored Andriev’s message. After all, he was only a distant cousin on her mother’s side. She could barely remember her father ever mentioning him when she was growing up, and when he had it was with a mixture of pity and contempt. Her father was a warrior and he had no interests outside horses, battle and the managing of his estates. To him, Andriev’s hobby seemed to be something childish and unmanly. Ulrika shook her head. That summed up the relationship between the border nobles of Kislev and those who dwelled in the cities. Most of the country folk thought their city-bred kin were decadent and effete. Most of the city dwellers looked down on the border nobles as little more than barbarians. There was some truth in both points of view, Ulrika thought, and then brought her attention back to the matter at hand. She knew she was just trying to distract herself from it anyway. 
537Snorri Nosebiter looked up at her. His brutish eyes held a look of dismay. “Snorri thinks Max is not getting any better,” said Snorri. “Of course, Snorri isn’t a doctor.” 
538Ulrika tried to smile at the Slayer. Snorri was stupid but he had a good heart and had been a good companion in many desperate adventures. He did not deserve to feel the cutting edge of her tongue now, no matter how much she felt like giving him it. She wondered when Felix would get back. Perhaps he would have some ideas about what to do. He was a clever man. Too clever, she often thought. Too clever, and too superior by far, when really he was only the son of a merchant. She wondered what she had ever seen in him now. Still, he had the power to make her angry even when she just thought about him. Just at that moment she heard the sound of the doorbell ringing. 
539Within moments, Felix and Gotrek were in the room. 
540“What happened to him?” asked Gotrek jerking his thumb in Max’s direction. Ulrika told him. Felix looked at him closely then at her. “Where is the talisman?” he asked. 
541“Is that all you’re concerned about?” 
542“No — but if we summon another magician to look at him, he might want to study it too.” “It was studying the thing that did this to Max,” she said. 
543“Are you sure?” 
544“It’s possible that he might have had a fit at the exact moment he was examining the thing but I prefer to believe the two things were connected,” she said. 
545“There’s no need to be sarcastic.” 
546She glared at him. He was such an infuriating man when he wanted to be. “Do you think summoning another magician is a good idea right now?” 
547“I can’t think of anything better to do, unless it’s to summon a healer, or send him to the 
548Temple.” 
549“Best send for the healer then.” 
550“The healer will want a donation to the Temple. They nearly always do.” 
551Andriev looked at them. “I will pay. After all this happened when the man was in my service.” At that moment there came a crashing sound from above. 
552“What was that?” Ulrika asked. 
553“Sounded like somebody breaking the door to me,” said Gotrek. Felix did not doubt the Slayer was right. He usually was about such things. 
554“Snorri thinks we should go and break some heads,” said Snorri Nosebiter. Gotrek growled his agreement and the two Slayers rushed for the stairs. Felix glanced after them, and then looked around the open vault, and at the recumbent figure of Max. 
555“Snorri is not exactly a master strategist,” said Felix. “We’re supposed to be guarding this place.” 
556“Sometimes the best form of defence is offence,” said Ulrika. “Go and help them! I will stay here with Max and make sure no one gets into the vault.” 
557Felix could see she was determined and what she said made a certain amount of sense. If any intruders could be stopped before they got in here, it would go much better. Felix looked at Andriev. Somehow he did not doubt that Snorri Nosebiter and Gotrek would be capable of handling anything short of a small army. 
558“Can the vault be opened from the inside?” 
559“Ahem — yes. It can. There is a hidden lever in here.” Good, Felix thought. “I will close the door behind me. If we have not returned within an hour, make your own decisions as to what to do.” 
560As he raced up the stairs, Felix wondered how long the air would last in the sealed vault. Long enough, he hoped. 
561From up ahead came the sound of fighting. Felix recognised the bellowed war cries of the two Slayers and the butcher-block sounds of weapons impacting on flesh swiftly followed by screams of agony. 
562It sounded as if the dwarfs were doing the work they were paid for. It was time for him to do the same. 
563His sword felt light in his hand. His heart raced. He was not exactly scared. He just felt a little weak. Everything seemed to be happening a little slower than normal. Felix recognised the signs. He was always like this before going into action. 
564He emerged into the atrium and took in the whole scene at a glance. Snow and cold night air blew in through the door that swung wide on its hinges. A mass of cloaked men, armed with swords and daggers, engaged the two Slayers. Servants and men-at-arms lay sprawled in their own blood everywhere. It looked as if the intruders had not been too choosy about who they slaughtered. 
565The shoe was on the other foot now though. Gotrek thundered through them like a raging bull. His axe left bloody corpses every time it struck, and it struck often, moving almost too fast for the human eye to follow. As Felix watched, the Slayer cut down two more assailants and dived headlong into the pack of men trying to force their way in through the door. 
566Snorri was no less dangerous. In one hand he held his broad-bladed axe, in the other a heavy warhammer. He wielded the two weapons as dextrously as most warriors would use one, lashing out almost simultaneously with both, whirling like a dervish maddened on locoweed to face his foes. As soon as one cowled man went down beneath a thunderous hail of blows, Snorri sprang over his corpse to get to grips with another. All the while an idiot grin of enjoyment played across his lips, and occasionally mad bellows of mirth erupted from deep within his enormous chest. 
567Even as Felix watched, more men emerged from other entrances to the halls. Either they had been there earlier slaughtering the servants or they were coming through the windows. Felix did not want to think about the implications of that. Whoever wanted the talisman had brought a small army with him. It was not a reassuring thought. Felix shouted a challenge and raced to join the melee. 
568He wondered if the mysterious Adolphus was somewhere in the milling throng. To be honest, Felix was not all that keen to meet him. 
569  
570Adolphus Krieger moved silently through the house. It was a place he could have learned to like given time. Every corner was stuffed with curios and artefacts of an earlier time. Adolphus recognised vases that must have emerged from the potter’s kiln before he arose. Some of the tapestries on the wall had been woven when he was still a child. It almost made him nostalgic. Almost. 
571Behind him he could hear the sounds of battle. It appeared that the coven’s retainers were providing the distraction he required. Perhaps they might actually overwhelm the guardians of the manor. Somehow though Adolphus doubted it. Maybe with his aid they might have stood a chance, but they were on their own. The beast that lurked at the back of his mind wanted to go back there, to tear and rend and drink blood, but he was not going to give in to it. Why should he risk his centuries-long life if he did not have to? The chances were that he could defeat the dwarfs, but why chance it if there was even a one in a thousand possibility they might win? 
572If you took enough thousand-to-one risks, then eventually one of them would kill you. Consequently, he avoided them when he could, which was doubtless why he had lived so long when others of his kind had been snuffed out like flickering candles. No, if he absolutely had to, he would face the dwarf and kill him, but there was no sense in tempting fate when it was not utterly necessary. Despite this though, it took a great effort of will not to run towards the fray, not to rush to where he knew all that warm hot blood was flowing. 
573Moving so silently he doubted that even a cat could have heard him, Adolphus stalked deeper into the mansion. The magician Benedict had provided him with detailed descriptions and a rough map of the layout before his unfortunate demise. Adolphus had the near perfect memory of the Arisen, which, combined with his darkness-piercing vision, enabled him to navigate the shadowy corridors without difficulty. 
574A sense of relief filled him as he put more distance between himself and the battle, and the urge to kill decreased slightly. He had entered the part of the mansion where magical protections were in force. He opened his mage senses to the flow of energy moving around him. There were no magical traps that he could see, simply spells of warding and protection, weaves designed to keep prying eyes from gazing into the place with scrying spells, and wards designed to negate a head-on magical assault. Whoever had cast these spells had known his business, but had drawn the line at using harmful magical energies, just as the builders of the vault had not used any physical traps such as deadfalls. 
575Adolphus could understand it. Certainly, there were those who were paranoid enough to use such things but they were a minority. After all, who wanted to dwell in a building where a slight misstep could put you in a pit, or blast you with a firebolt? Despite what mages might tell you about how careful they were, such things did occur. And when they did you were usually not around afterward to complain about the consequences. 
576Adolphus fought to keep a smile from his lips. He was making assumptions that might prove fatal. He did not absolutely know this was the case here. It might simply be that the magician who had cast these wards was a better sorcerer than he, and he just could not perceive the traps. It would be best to proceed with the utmost caution until he had established whether this was the case or not. 
577He was at the top of the flight of stairs now. He knew they led down through the cellars and into the vaults. He paused for a moment, and allowed himself to savour the anticipation. He was close now, so close he could almost taste it. The thing he had sought so long and so hard for was almost within his grasp, and with it the power to do what none of the Arisen had dreamed of since the time of the Vampire Counts. He would be the one to fulfil the prophesies in the Book of Shadows and the Grimoire Necronium. Surely the time had now come to pass? The armies of Chaos were on the march, the old order was ending, and a new world would be born in fire and blood. Most of all, in blood. He would be the King of the Night, and his reign would be eternal, dark and filled with poisonous beauty. 
578He shook his head. Such musing brought him no closer to his goal. It was time to take the last few steps that would lead him to ultimate glory. 
579  
580* * * 
581  
582Felix glanced around at the scene of carnage. Dead bodies were piled up all around them. Blood splattered Gotrek and Snorri making them look as if they had been working in an abattoir. Felix guessed that he did not look much better. Not all of the blood belonged to his opponents. He was nicked and cut in half a dozen places though he guessed that none of the wounds were major. “Hardly a fight at all,” grumbled Gotrek. “Even for humans these were poor warriors.” 
583“Snorri has killed tougher cockroaches,” agreed Snorri Nosebiter sourly. “Snorri squashed an ant once that put up a better fight. Nasty acid sting it had.” 
584Felix could not entirely agree with the Slayers about the toughness of their foes. By virtue of sheer numbers, he had been almost overwhelmed on several occasions, and his body’s aches reminded him that this fight had been dangerous enough. Still, they had a point. These men had not fought as well as many he had faced. It was not just that they were indifferent warriors; it was something more. They had fought like sleepwalkers. Their timing was off, and they had been indifferent as to whether they had lived or died. Their parries and thrusts had possessed a purely mechanical quality. A thought struck him. 
585“They fought like men who were under a spell,” he said. 
586“A spell of being very bad fighters, maybe,” said Snorri Nosebiter. 
587“I think you are right, manling,” said Gotrek. “Not even humans are usually so bad. They fought as if they did not have all their wits about them.” 
588“That’s never stopped Snorri from putting up a good fight,” said Snorri. From the peevish tone, anyone would have thought the men had tried to cheat him out of a copper pfennig. He was obviously still disappointed by the quality of the opposition they had faced. 
589Felix ignored him. His mind was already racing ahead, searching out reasons for why this might have happened. This Adolphus Krieger was a magician of some sort, and obviously these men had been in his thrall. The question was why he had sent them to attack now. The answer was obvious. “This was a diversion,” Felix said. “The magician is already in the building.” He and Gotrek exchanged glances. “The vault,” they said simultaneously. 
590  
591Adolphus stood before the entrance to the vault. The door was large and very strong and could probably resist a team of men with a battering ram. Not that there would have been room to swing it in these corridors. There were several potent wards on the doors designed to neutralise spells of opening and unlocking. Adolphus doubted that he could overcome them with magic. He was a very knowledgeable mage but not a particularly potent one. The countess, for one, had been much stronger. That would change when he had the talisman. 
592He did not need to be a great mage, under the circumstances. The concealment of the dwarf-built pressure pads would have fooled most eyes, but not his. They were far, far keener in the darkness than any human eye could ever be. Even the hairline edges cunningly concealed in the stonework were as clear to him as the edges of a paving stone would be to a mortal. 
593He took out his dagger and slid its edge through the narrow gap of the nearest one. He heard a click and the stone slid out, revealing the pressure pad within. He pushed it, and was rewarded with another click that told him the way was partially open. He repeated the process on the other side of the door. There remained only the main lock on the door itself. Fortunately he had an easy solution for that too. He had made his preparations with care. 
594Reaching inside his jerkin he carefully pulled out the two containers he had made earlier. He smiled. He might not be the greatest of sorcerers but his knowledge of alchemy was considerable and had been perfected over long centuries. When the contents of the two containers were mixed they would create a powerful corrosive capable of eating through solid metal in a short time. 
595Carefully he dribbled some fluid onto the area around the lock. When the green fluid encountered the red fluid, an acrid chemical smoke rose. There was a hissing, spluttering sound and the metal of the lock began to melt away like snow under a soldier’s piss. Very soon now, the talisman would be in his grasp. 
596  
597“What was that?” asked Andriev nervously. Ulrika looked up. She too had heard the odd bubbling sound. A few moments before they had both heard faint clicks as if someone had been working with the locks. She could only hope it was Felix and the others coming back. Somehow she did not think it was. 
598“I don’t know,” she said. A faint reek as of noxious chemicals reached her nostrils. She was reminded of the scent of alchemical fire but it was not that. She sniffed again. The scent was coming from the direction of the doorway. She thought she heard a faint hissing sound now as well. 
599“There’s someone outside. I think they are trying to get in,” she said, raising her sword to the guard position. Andriev clutched his own weapon tighter. Even as they watched, the door began to bend inwards, as if being subjected to a force as slow and irresistible as the action of a glacier. 
600“Whatever is out there, it isn’t human,” Andriev said. Ulrika shuddered. She could remember Felix’s tales of his encounters with daemons all too clearly. What was it Adolphus Krieger had sent to collect the talisman? 
601  
602Carefully avoiding the spot where the corrosive still bubbled, Adolphus exerted his strength. He was much stronger than any human, and knew in a few heartbeats the weakened door would give way. He could simply have waited for the acid to do its work, but he felt he was running out of time. The sounds of fighting had ceased behind him. That might mean his cats’ paws had succeeded in killing the defenders but somehow he doubted it. It was more likely that the Slayers were coming for him. He was not going to risk a fight now if he could help it, not when he was so close to his goal. 
603Inside he could hear the sounds of voices. One of them belonged to Andriev, the other to a young woman. They would not stand against him for long. 
604  
605Felix raced through the house, wondering if what he was doing was wise. His legs were longer than the dwarfs’ and he was a much faster runner, so he was outdistancing them by quite a way. What if more of the enthralled warriors were in the house? What if he came upon the mage all by himself? Unless he could take the man by surprise, it would most likely prove to be a fatal encounter. He had no illusions about the outcome of any struggle between himself and a competent sorcerer. 
606On the other hand, Ulrika was in danger and, despite their feelings for each other, he did not want to see any harm come to her. She might be an arrogant, overbearing, inconstant, misguided snob but he did not want to see her dead. To tell the truth, he wondered at the intensity of his own feelings now that he knew she was in danger. Not quite over her yet, he thought, sourly. 
607He reached the top of the stairs and halted. From below, he could hear the shriek of tortured metal. It sounded as if the entrance to the vault was being shattered by the application of enormous force. Impossible, he told himself — it would take a siege engine. But the man down there was a magician. Who knew what he was capable of? Perhaps the wards woven on the vault were not quite as strong as Max had claimed, or maybe the magician was a lot more powerful than they had expected. It was not a reassuring thought. 
608He listened to see if he could distinguish anything else. He hoped to hear Gotrek and Snorri Nosebiter approaching but there was nothing. He could not hear their booted feet ringing on the stonework. He could hear Ulrika’s indistinct voice shouting some sort of challenge, and the murmur of a response too low for him to hear. Then from down below too came an ominous silence. 
609Better go and learn the worst, he thought. Reluctantly he padded down the stairs, thinking, perhaps Gotrek will be the one to write the tale of my heroic doom. 
610  
611Ulrika watched as the door exploded inwards. Stone screeched against stone. She expected to see a gang of warriors armed with a portable ram or a mage surrounded by the incandescent glow of power. Instead, she saw a tall, stately-looking man, garbed in fashionable clothing. A longsword hung scabbarded at his side. There was an eerie grace about him that she would have associated more with acrobats than a mage. He glanced at her but made no threatening move. 
612“If you can use that blade, magician, I suggest you draw it. I hate to cut down an unarmed man.” 
613To her surprise he smiled, showing gleaming white teeth. His eyes when they met hers were dark and piercing. 
614He was a very handsome man, Ulrika thought, almost beautiful. He bore himself with an air of command that a Tsar might have envied. 
615“And I would hate to kill a young woman so lovely,” he said pleasantly. He sounded as if he came from the Empire but there was just the faintest trace of a foreign accent in his voice. If she had been forced to guess, she would have said Bretonnian. 
616“I am not afraid of your magic, wizard,” she said, and was proud of how steady her voice was. Something about the man’s manner told her she could easily die here. He laughed — an eerie, velvety sound. 
617“Is that what you think I am?” 
618“What else could you be?” 
619“Something beyond your ability to imagine,” he said. 
620  
621Adolphus recognised the woman from that night at the White Boar, just as he recognised the unconscious man lying nearby. What a small world, he thought. Then again, Praag was a small city and not many taverns remained open after the destruction of the siege. Once again he felt the surge of attraction. 
622She was certainly beautiful, and she held herself well. There was something about her courage in the face of her obvious fear that he found quite touching. He wished he had had time to talk to her, but he had already wasted enough time. He could see what he had come for. It lay on the table beside the recumbent form of the man in wizard’s robes. 
623Adolphus could see the man still lived, but life pulsed so faintly in him that he would not recover any time soon, if at all. No threat there then. 
624The only ones who stood between him and the talisman were the young woman and the old man. He would not even need his sword to take them. 
625Behind him on the stairs came the footsteps of a man trying to move quietly. A mortal might not have detected him at all, but Adolphus could tell where he was from the sound of his breathing, let alone the soft scuff of boot leather on stone. He smiled. One lone man was no threat to him either. 
626“Step away from the talisman and I will let you live,” he told the girl quietly. “Interfere with me and you will most assuredly die, and that would give me no pleasure.” 
627The woman lunged at him with surprising speed. She was obviously not unskilled with that long blade of hers. Adolphus stepped easily aside. She was quick for a mortal, but compared to him she moved like an arthritic cripple. While she went for him the old man reached for the talisman. Adolphus was not going to allow that. 
628He extended his stride and reached the amulet at the same time as the old man. A quick buffet from his open hand sent Andriev flying across the room to smash into the wall. There was a sickening crack and he slid down to the floor. Blood pooled from his broken head. Triumph filled Adolphus as he picked up the amulet. 
629He was disappointed to feel no surge of power, no enormous burst of magical energy. Thunder did not roar. Lightning did not flash. The world did not change in an instant. He had been foolish to expect any such thing. The talisman would need to be studied and attuned before he could use it. There was no doubt he had found what he had come for in his mind though. It was exactly as described in the grimoire and the Lost Book of Nagash. There could not be more than one artefact fitting this description in the world now. He had what he came for. It was time to leave. 
630He turned just in time to see the woman racing towards him, and a tall blond man filling the doorway. Surely these fools did not intend to try and stop him? 
631  
632Felix did not think he had ever seen a man move so fast. His swiftness was eye-blurring. Some sort of spell must be enhancing his speed. At least there was only the sorcerer. It was a small mercy. Watching the man, he knew that there was no way he could stand against him if he drew his sword. Best not to give him the chance to then, he thought, and advanced into the room. 
633Ulrika raced forward too, aiming a slash at the man’s neck that would have severed his head from his shoulders if it had connected. It didn’t. Krieger ducked and the blade passed above his head. With a motion like a tiger pouncing on a deer, he sprang forward. In an instant he had Ulrika immobilised, his arm around her neck; her struggles were as weak as those of a mouse in the grip of a cat. 
634“Ulrika,” Felix shouted. 
635The man looked up at him, and Felix was in no way surprised to see the red glow in his eyes. Mage, he thought, and then realised that there was something naggingly familiar about the man. Felix suddenly put his finger on it. He was the wizard in the tavern, the one who vanished just as Max and Ulrika came in. 
636Felix could hear Gotrek and Snorri Nosebiter on the stairs. Help was on its way. 
637“If you care about this girl, stand back,” said Krieger. “Or I will snap her neck like a twig.” 
638“If you harm her in any way Twill kill you,” said Felix, and was surprised to find that he meant it. Whatever it took, however long, he would hound this man to his grave. 
639“Somehow I doubt that,” said Krieger in his suave tone. 
640“If the manling doesn’t then I will,” said Gotrek, from beside Felix. There could be no doubt at all that he meant it. 
641The tall man laughed but hell was in his eyes. “It’s been tried before, by your kin, and they did not succeed either. Now stand aside or the girl dies.” 
642The Slayer glared at the dark magician. Felix wondered if Gotrek was going to attack and let Ulrika die anyway. He knew he could not allow it.  
643  
644FOUR 
645  
646  
647“Snorri thinks we should take him,” said Snorri Nosebiter. 
648“I don’t,” said Felix. “If we do, he will kill Ulrika.” 
649“And then Snorri will kill him,” said Snorri, his battle lust unsated by his encounter with the magician’s minions. He was ready to attack no matter what Felix said. Felix looked at Gotrek pleadingly. No sign of any understanding entered the Slayer’s one mad eye. The silence lengthened. Gotrek and Krieger glared at each other. An odd glow appeared in the mage’s eyes once more. There seemed to be some sort of contest of wills going on. Neither looked away. 
650Felix’s mouth felt dry. The room stank of dust and death and the faintest hint of something else, cinnamon perhaps. Andriev lay near, his broken head testimony to how fragile life could be. Max did not look much better. 
651“Kill him,” gasped Ulrika. “Don’t worry about me. I would rather die than be dishonoured.” 
652Her words were cut off abruptly as Krieger tightened his grip on her throat. For a magician, he was strong. Felix was not at all sure he would like to face him with a sword in his hand. Ulrika’s face was very pale now. Felix could see she was having trouble breathing. The Slayer continued to glare. Felix could feel that things had come to a very delicate pass, it might go either way now. There was a tension in the room that begged for violent action. Unfortunately, Felix knew that when the explosion came it would end up with Ulrika dead. 
653“Let her go and you have my word you can leave here,” he said, hoping to sway the Slayers with talk of honour and oaths. This approach usually worked on dwarfs. Gotrek tensed. The Slayer did not like what he was doing. The magician merely laughed. 
654“Much as I would like to take you up on such an offer, I fear it would be unwise under the circumstances. This girl is my shield and before a battle it’s a foolish warrior who throws aside his shield.” 
655“You are no warrior,” grated Gotrek. “You have no idea of what the word means.” 
656Krieger’s smile was sour, and oddly sad. “Once I did, probably more than you. Alas, things change.” 
657Gotrek was about to throw himself forward. Foam frothed from Snorri’s mouth as he champed at the bit for battle. Still he waited to take his cue from Gotrek. Ulrika tried to bring her heel down on Krieger’s booted foot, but he eluded the move easily. A further tightening of his arm brought a squeal of pain from the Kislevite noblewoman. Her neck could not be far from breaking. 
658Felix put a hand on the Slayer’s shoulder. He knew he had no more chance of restraining the dwarf if he decided to attack than he would have of holding back a dire wolf, but he felt he had better try. “Don’t,” he said. “There has to be a way out of this.” 
659“There is,” said Krieger. “Let me go and, after I am free, I will let her go whenever she wishes.” 
660“You would not accept my word,” said Felix looking at the sorcerer. His faint complex smile had widened. “Why should I accept yours?” 
661“You don’t have any choice,” said Krieger with assurance. He raised the pomander dangling from his neck to his lips, and took a long satisfied sniff. He looked utterly calm and collected. He had the poise of an aristocrat. Felix had always disliked them. “Let him go,” said Felix. “We can always hunt him down later.” “You can try,” said Krieger. 
662Gotrek seemed to emerge from his killing trance. “However long it takes, however far you travel, I will find you and I will kill you,” he said. 
663“That goes twice as much for Snorri Nosebiter,” said Snorri. 
664“Step aside,” said Krieger. Slowly and reluctantly, the dwarfs did so. Lifting Ulrika as if she weighed nothing, clutching the talisman in his fist still, Krieger strode between them and up the stairs. 
665Silence filled the vault. 
666“What do we do now?” Felix asked. 
667“Follow him,” Gotrek replied. “He won’t get too far.” 
668They moved up the stairs in Krieger’s wake but when they emerged into the night he was gone, and so was Ulrika. Felix thought he heard a sledge hissing off into the distance but it was night, and there were many sledges going to and fro between the mansions of the nobles. 
669Icy, freezing fog filled the streets. It had gathered almost too quickly to be natural. Felix wondered if the mage had cast some sort of spell to obscure his tracks. It seemed all too likely. Despair filled him. Ulrika was in the hands of an evil mage and so was the talisman they had agreed to protect. Andriev was dead. Max was in a coma. Failure tasted bitter in his mouth. 
670“He must have used magic to remove himself once he was clear of the vaults,” said Felix. “The wards would no longer have held him there.” 
671“I don’t know,” said Gotrek. Rage filled his voice. He liked their situation no more than Felix. “I am not a magician.” 
672“Neither is Snorri, but we’d better work out how to find him soon. Snorri Nosebiter swore an oath, and if Snorri has to search this city house by house Snorri will.” 
673“Chances are we will be joining you,” muttered Felix. “Come on, let’s go inside and see to Max.” None of them suggested ringing the alarm bell and summoning the watch. 
674  
675Krieger lounged back in the padded seat of the sleigh. Roche’s broad back obscured his view as he handled the horses. He put an arm around the unconscious Ulrika. It was good cover. They were just two lovers returning from a sleigh ride in the night, a scene Krieger had enacted many times in the past, with the cattle, before he drank of their blood. No one would notice them. 
676The warm glow of triumph filled him. He had thought things might all go terribly wrong there for a while. Close up, the power of that dwarf’s terrible axe had been evident to him. There was no doubt in his mind that the weapon was capable of ending his immortal life with one blow. He had never seen anything so filled with terrible killing power. To one with mage senses as keen as Krieger’s, it was practically incandescent with deadly energy, and its wielder had been almost as worrying, a grim, fell-handed creature indeed. 
677The man’s weapon had not been as powerful, but to Adolphus’ surprise had been magical also, and thus capable of hurting him. 
678Amazing really that Andriev had found two such guardians at short notice. If he had known, he would not have been quite so confident. He did not doubt he could have won any fight with the pair, but there would have been a risk, and right then, with the talisman in his grasp, it would have been foolish to take it. 
679Still, the part of him that craved violence and death wished that he had initiated combat, wished that he had fought, and torn his opponents limb from limb. The raging beast was still within him. He tried to tell himself that there was more to it than this. It galled him to leave enemies alive and unharmed behind him. He was annoyed by the arrogance of the dwarf. That any mortal should dare threaten one of the Arisen seemed near sacrilegious. He was also certain that the dwarf would attempt to make good on his promise, would spend years if need be hunting him down. 
680Not that it mattered now. Soon he would have enough power to master the world, and take his revenge on them. It would not be the dwarf who sought him out. Once he fulfilled Nospheratus’ prophesy he would take his revenge. He tried telling himself that powerful though that axe was, he was not frightened by it, but he was wise enough to know that he was lying to himself. That was why the beast was snarling within him so strongly. It felt threatened. He shivered a little. For the first time in many, many years, he had encountered something that caused him to fear. 
681Perhaps he should try to enjoy the novelty of it. After all, amid the ennui of the long centuries, any new emotional experience was to be welcomed. Somehow he could not quite make himself believe it. Best to get away as quickly and as quietly as possible and leave the Slayers to their futile efforts at pursuit. He could travel so quickly and so secretly that they would have no chance of finding him until he wanted it. 
682The main thing now was that he needed time to work out how to unleash the power of the talisman, to attune it to him, and learn to draw upon its energies. Once that was accomplished, there was little he could not do, at least according to Nospheratus, and that vampiric seer had been well placed to know. 
683The girl beside him whimpered but did not come to consciousness. He looked down at her. Ancient malice woke in his brain. It was obvious that the man back there had cared for her, and that the dwarfs had enough regard for her to restrain themselves from attacking. She might prove a valuable hostage and, by all the Dark Gods, she was beautiful. On his long journey a companion to while away the time might prove interesting, and he could always get rid of her if she proved dull. He doubted that she would, at least for a while. She knew the dwarfs and the man with the magical weapon, and thus she could tell him something of his enemies. He would need to know at least their names when the time came to hunt them down. 
684Of course, he had given his word to the man that he would let her go, and he had never broken his word in all his long centuries of unlife. It was just as well he had carefully worded the promise to suit himself. He had said he would let her go whenever she wished. He had ways of ensuring that she would not wish to leave him. 
685Gently he pushed back the collar of her tunic, and stroked her neck, looking for the lovely vein he knew he would find there. 
686  
687Felix looked around the wreckage of the mansion. There were corpses everywhere: the remains of Andriev’s ancient servants, the mangled bodies of the men he, Gotrek and Snorri had slain. The air smelled of blood and opened innards and corruption. It did nothing to improve his mood. He wished now that he carried a pomander, as the mage did. Its perfume might cover the stench of death. 
688That thought tickled something at the back of his mind. It reminded him of something, just as the faint elusive scent he had smelled in the vault had done. What was it? Why did the image of a dead woman spring into his mind now? 
689Obviously because you are surrounded by corpses, idiot, he told himself, but knew that was not the answer. He remembered seeing the body of the dead woman found in the snow, remembered what her companion had said. She had gone out with a nobleman. She had remembered a very distinctive scent like cinnamon. That was what he had smelled in the vaults. Was it possible that the man who had killed the streetwalker and mangled her corpse was the same as the one who had taken Ulrika? 
690He prayed not. Many Imperial nobles carried pomanders to cover the smell of the streets, surely this was just one more. Cinnamon-based perfumes were common. No, it could not be the same man — could it? Why not? He was a dark magician and who knew what atrocities they might commit. Felix had heard tales of evil mages devouring the brains of their victims to absorb their souls, maybe those tales were true and maybe this was such a man. Suddenly, he wished Max were awake. He would know much more about such things than Felix ever would. He mentioned his suspicions to the Slayers. 
691“Snorri thinks you should have let us kill him,” said Snorri Nosebiter almost petulantly. 
692I should have let you, Felix thought. As if there were anything he could have done to restrain the Slayers if they had taken it into their heads to fight. 
693He looked over at the two sullen dwarfs. It was obvious that they were not in the best of moods. They glared at him as if he personally were responsible for costing them their chance of a heroic death. In a way, he supposed he was. Not that he was going to let it bother him all that much. Ulrika’s life was far more important than their deaths. They would have another chance when they caught up with the mage. Somehow, Felix did not doubt that they would. Now he only had to work out how. 
694The first thing they needed to do was get Max to a healer. He was the expert in this field, and if anyone knew how to go about finding a dark mage, it would be him. Felix thought he had better notify the authorities what had happened here. Not the city guards: they would most likely throw all four of them in the cells just on suspicion and, once there, who knew when they would get out? That’s if Gotrek and Snorri didn’t start a battle with them for their temerity in trying to make the arrest in the first place. Best take the matter straight to the top, to the duke. He would listen to them, perhaps even help. 
695And then there was Ulrika’s father. Felix was not looking forward to breaking the news of his daughter’s abduction and possible death to the old nobleman. Not that he was prepared to admit that Ulrika might not be alive. Such a thought did not bear thinking about. No — they would tell Ivan Petrovich Straghov and doubtless he would lend them aid, even if the duke would not. 
696He considered his plan from every angle. There was no sense in heading off on a fruitless search for the magician in this fog, no matter what the Slayers might want. He could perhaps convince the duke to seal the gates, and have his men scour the city. That way the guards might prove to be of use, and several thousand men would be more effective in a search than three. 
697Swiftly, he outlined his plans to the others. They headed out into the night. 
698  
699Felix looked in on the sickroom where Max lay. The priestesses had finished their rituals. Healing magic had been invoked. Felix could only pray that it worked better for the wizard than it had for his mother all those long years ago. The duke looked up from his place beside the bed. Even in this place of healing two guard captains flanked him. These were dangerous times. 
700Enrik’s expression was melancholy. From his large eyes with bags beneath them, to his long drooping moustaches, he seemed to radiate sadness and depression. Felix had heard he was given to moods of black depression, and even madness, but had seen no sign of it himself. The Duke of Praag was one of the most competent and energetic nobles he had met. He had guided the defence of the city against the Chaos horde with vigour and courage. It was evident that the loss of his brother, under somewhat mysterious circumstances, had hit him hard. He moved like an old man, and not just because of his wounds. 
701“Yours is very grave news, Felix Jaeger,” he said. His voice was clear and commanding and completely at odds with his appearance. It held all the arrogant command that one might expect from the ruler of Kislev’s second greatest city. “Ulrika was kin to me, and so was Andriev very distantly, although there was no love lost between us. He had more in common with my brother. They were both keen on ancient things, and magic.” 
702Felix suspected that the duke’s brother had been involved with the cults of Chaos. Was it possible that Count Andriev had been as well? That would explain his interest in magical things, and his wish to avoid attracting attention to himself. But if he had been, then perhaps he would have had allies both magical and human of his own, and he would not have needed to call on himself, Ulrika and Gotrek. Not unless there was something he wanted to hide from his fellow daemon worshippers. Felix was familiar enough with the treachery and backstabbing that all the followers of the Dark Gods wallowed in. It was enough to make his head spin just thinking about it. 
703Perhaps the old man had been involved in such things, perhaps not. It would be best not to think about it until he had clear proof either way. Right now there were plenty of other things to think about. 
704The duke turned and barked commands to his guard captains and they departed. Felix knew that soon there would be a watch kept on every gate and the city guard would be alerted to look for anyone like Ulrika or her captor. The duke’s instructions sent soldiers hurrying to obey. 
705“I am sorry I cannot do more,” said Duke Enrik, “but a house-to-house search is all but impossible at the moment. And there are other things to worry about right now.” 
706Felix knew what he meant. With the Ice Queen in his palace and the army bivouacked on the city, there was the problem of seeing to her security and maintaining public order, not to mention planning what to do about the oncoming Chaos horde. It was a reminder to Felix that the whole world had not stopped because of his personal problems. The greatest invasion of the Old World in two centuries was still under way. The duke seemed to consider the matter settled but Felix decided to risk persisting for the moment. 
707“Have you informed her father, your grace?” Felix asked. 
708“I have summoned him. It was wise of you to bring this to me first. I think such news would be best coming from a kinsman. He is very fond of Ulrika. She is his only ‘surviving’ child.” 
709Felix heard the hesitation on the word surviving. The duke too was trying to put his best face on things. 
710“And you have no idea what this talisman was or what it was capable of?” Felix could recognise a deliberate change of subject when he heard one. 
711“I have no idea, but it must be important considering all the effort this Adolphus Krieger put into getting it. We had best hope that Max recovers soon. Perhaps he can tell us something.” “It was investigating the talisman that did this to him?” 
712“So Ulrika said.” 
713“I will have you informed when he recovers,” said the duke. His tone made it clear that this was a dismissal. He looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Thank you, your grace,” said Felix and withdrew. 
714  
715Adolphus looked around the chamber in the mansion. Osrik had given up his best suite of rooms so that his master might occupy them. The tapestries were thick and heavy, the best wine sat unopened on the heavy mahogany table, the fire blazed brightly. Although Adolphus no longer felt the cold and took no pleasure from wine, he always found it best to keep up appearances. Tongues always flapped otherwise, and you could not browbeat or mindbind every servant. They all looked alike to Adolphus anyway. And he admitted to having a taste for luxury that persisted from his former life, before the countess chose him. It was a taste that his status as one of the Arisen allowed him to indulge. 
716The only thing that was really necessary about the rooms was the thick curtains that kept the sunlight out. He had never got used to daylight. It still hurt his eyes, and burned his skin painfully. No matter how much blood he drank, he had but a fraction of his true strength when exposed to it. It made him almost as weak and feeble as a mortal. The sluggishness he felt now told him it was still light outside. 
717Few of the servants thought it odd that he was not to be disturbed through the day. As far as they were concerned he was a distant kinsman with a taste for lowlife and debauchery, who spent his nights in the taverns and bordellos of the city, and his days recovering from his nightly indulgences. 
718He was not sorry to be leaving Kislev. It was a barbaric place, and likely to become more so as the Chaos horde advanced. Bloodletting on a massive scale always seemed to bring out the wild rider in the Kislevites. 
719Still, he thought, the situation was not without its advantages. One could easily exploit the anarchy of the coming months and years, and he would be powerful enough to do so. The prophesies of the Grimoire Necronium would be fulfilled. This was the Time of Blood of which the ancient tome spoke, of that he was certain. And he was the Pale King who would arise to rule the night. The talisman would make that come true. With it, none of the others would be able to stand against him, all of them — even the countess and the Council — would have to swear fealty. 
720The woman in his bed stirred. She was almost too beautiful, he thought. She had none of the bovine stupidity that was usually written on the faces of Kislevite noblewomen. She looked hard, and sharp and fierce as a hawk. There was something predatory in her beauty. She would perhaps be worthy to be chosen, worthy of the dark kiss. Perhaps she was the one. 
721For long centuries, ever since the countess had explained to him how the bloodlines had thinned since the time of the Lahmians, he had resisted creating his own get. Most of the Arisen of his generation could create only one, and even that might turn out to be only an insipid counterfeit of what it should be — moronic, weak, mad, the cause of all those bizarre stereotypes of monsters mortals seemed to have about the Arisen. He himself had never risked trying to create one, for he had never found any worthy of his embrace. Over the centuries he had occasionally thought he had found someone but always there had been a flaw in them. 
722Let’s see. There was the Bretonnian noblewoman, Katherine, who had turned out to be nothing more than an empty, posturing fool. Her beauty had dazzled him for a while into thinking she might have the intelligence and the grace to be worthy of eternity at his side. 
723How wrong he had been. The woman had cared more for her mirror than she had for anyone else. It had been a distinct pleasure to watch her squeamishness as the lines appeared on her face, grey appeared in her hair, and age had eaten away her beauty. 
724Then there was the peasant girl turned courtesan from Nuln, what was her name? Oh yes, Marianne. She had been all that he had desired. Beautiful, intelligent, witty, charming, cultured even, with the erudition of those who have painfully acquired it by their own efforts. She had possessed a playfulness and a curiosity that had promised she would not have succumbed easily to ennui, and he had been drawn to her for many reasons. But she had been treacherous, and selfish, and deceitful. Remembering how he himself had turned against the countess, he had foreseen that she too would eventually turn on him, and that would have been too painful to endure. So he had watched over her, aided her and protected her until eventually she had died wealthy, respected and one of the great noblewomen of the Empire. Her rise had provided them both with amusement. 
725There was Alana, that strange bitter woman, half witch, half-seeress who had taught him all those dark secrets and opened his eyes to the power of mortals’ magic. To her as much as to the countess did he owe his knowledge of sorcery, and the knowledge that mortals tried to hide even from themselves. She had died before he had ever had a chance to make his mind up about her, torn apart by some appalling creature she had summoned in a blasphemous ritual on Geheimnisnacht, a victim of her own overwhelming ambition and desire for control. He was not certain, but he guessed that he would not have embraced her. Their relationship had always been about power, who would have it, who would wield it. She would have wanted to bind him to her with magic, as much as any one of the cattle had ever been bound by the dark kiss. 
726There had been others, so many others, down the long centuries. Their faces sometimes drifted before him when he entered the trance state that in the Arisen replaced sleep. Sometimes they all blended together, sometimes they changed into faces he had never seen, but would eventually. One thing you learned over the centuries was that sooner or later most things would occur. 
727It was strange, he mused, how much of the flesh was left behind and how much stayed when you were embraced. He no longer craved meat or drink or sex or drugs. But still he craved companionship. Perhaps it was the only thing he had in common with the cattle anymore. He still was on the lookout for that one special woman now, as much as he had been when he first met the countess back in Parravon three centuries ago, as much as when he had been little more than a boy attending his first ball at the king’s court. 
728He pushed the thoughts aside. Here he stood on the brink of the greatest triumph any of the Arisen had ever managed, on the brink of madness goaded by something he could not explain, and he was thinking of women. He smiled wryly. It was one of the few habits of mortality he had not been able to rid himself of. 
729Perhaps, he thought, he should kill this woman now, drain her dry in the ecstasy of the kiss, just to prove to himself that he could still do such a thing. Pointless, he told himself, you know you can. It has been something you have done all too easily over the past few weeks. If you really want to prove you are still in control you should let her live. The reaction of the beast in his brain as it resisted the idea showed him that he was correct. For the moment then, he would let her live. She could travel with him for a while. It never hurt to have an extra vessel lying around in case of need. He could not afford to weaken Roche by tapping him on this journey, and he utterly loathed drinking the blood of animals. Only the direst of necessities could drive him to it now. Anyway, it would not be seemly for the soon-to-be lord of all vampires to drink from a deer. 
730He identified the footsteps approaching down the corridor long before he heard the knock on the door. Roche had a very distinctive gait. He walked very softly for such a heavy man. Adolphus’ keen senses told him that there was no one else close by. He walked to the door and turned the key in the lock. It was an elementary precaution that he never forgot to take in rooms like this ever since a chambermaid had entered his room and found him with the drained corpse of a streetwalker in the days after the countess had first embraced him. 
731Roche looked down on him unsmilingly Adolphus gazed back, measuring him. He was a huge man, strong as a blacksmith, quick as cat, with the manners of a chamberlain and the morals of an assassin. Like his father and his grandfather before him, Roche served as Adolphus’ most trusted personal retainer, and was privy to all but his darkest secrets. It was a position he had been groomed for since he was a small child. 
732“The sledge is ready, master,” said Roche. His voice was melodic and not a little sad, it should have belonged to the priest that he so often impersonated. “We can leave as soon as you are ready.” 
733“Very good, Roche.” 
734“The young lady, master?” Roche’s voice was mild. He just wanted to know what to do. He could be told to wrap her in a sheet and take her to the coach or to chop her into little pieces and feed her to the dogs. He would do either with the same quiet, calm efficiency, had done so often in the past. 
735“She will be accompanying us.” 
736“Very good, master. I considered the possibility that you might wish to do this and have taken the liberty of loading extra supplies. I hope this meets with your approval.” 
737“As always, Roche, you think of everything.” 
738“It is my pleasure to serve, master.” They exchanged knowing smiles. 
739“Let us be away, Roche. We have a long road ahead of us, and the sooner we are out of this backwater kingdom, the happier I will be.” 
740  
741Ivan Petrovich Straghov was calm now. Felix was glad. He had been shouting threats and curses strong enough to make a dock-worker blanch just minutes before. Now he was restricting himself to just a few choice anatomical epithets. He turned and glared at Felix. The younger man suddenly felt that the tent had become far too small. 
742“We will find her,” he said, in a challenging tone, as if Felix had just contradicted him. “And when we find the man who has taken her, I will string him up by the balls and…” 
743He went on to describe exactly what he would do. With most people, Felix would have assumed they were speaking metaphorically, but Ivan Petrovich was a march boyar. He fully intended to carry out those threats no matter how physically impossible they sounded. Felix did not envy Adolphus Krieger if the old nobleman ever got his hands on him. 
744“First, we have to find him,” Gotrek said. His harsh gravelly voice sounded almost calm compared to the Kislevite’s but for all his bluster Ivan Petrovich would never in a hundred lifetimes be able to match the menace in it. The effect was like a dash of cold water in the Kislevite’s face. 
745“How will we do that?” The Slayer shook his head. He looked baffled and frustrated. Felix knew this would just make him even more short-tempered. Felix moved over to the charcoal brazier and warmed his hands. Ivan Petrovich could have had chambers in the Citadel if he wanted, but he chose to stay with his men, who were bivouacked in tents on the edge of the city in the old Kislevite horsewarrior style. Felix would have complained about the cold, but he’d already heard enough comments about soft southerners to last him a lifetime. 
746The march boyar’s question was a good one though. Felix had not held out much hope that Krieger would keep his promise and release Ulrika, and over the past few days even that tiny flicker had died. How did you find one man and his prisoner in a city as large and chaotic as Praag? How did you prevent them leaving if that is what they sought to do? Ivan Petrovich had his riders, but in the cold and the snow a sweep around the city would be difficult. On the plus side, anyone setting out would be more noticeable than usual. Not too many people were leaving the city at the moment. Trickles of refugees were still streaming in. 
747Felix was baffled. He needed to know more. He needed to know what the purpose of the talisman was, and what the dark magician intended to use it for. He desperately needed to know whether Ulrika was still alive. 
748If I were an evil sorcerer and I wanted to keep myself hidden in Praag, how would I do it? In the books and plays he had read as a youth it was always easy. Evil mages lived in ruined towers, crypts in cemeteries and huge mansions built with their ill gotten gains. A search of all such locations in the city should turn him up. Unfortunately, Felix had long ago learned that things were rarely that simple. If Krieger had any sense, he would be keeping a very low profile indeed, disguising himself somehow. How would he do that? Felix wished he knew. 
749“You are looking thoughtful, manling,” said Gotrek. “Have you got any useful suggestions?” 
750Despite the apparent irony in his tone, Felix could tell that the Slayer was serious. During their long association, the thinking in situations like this usually fell to him. Sadly, at the hour of their greatest need, his mind was a blank. He shook his head and sat down on the thick rug covering the tent floor, and began to trace the convoluted weave with his fingers. His head hurt, his eyes ached and his nose was running. He was definitely coming down with something. 
751“We need a magician,” he said. 
752“We had one,” said Gotrek. “Unfortunately, he seems to be no longer with us.” “That might change,” said Felix. 
753“You’re saying we should be patient,” said Ivan Petrovich. His tone implied that Felix had suggested they take up molesting goats. 
754“Sometimes, it’s the only thing you can do,” said Felix wearily. 
755“Spare us the pearls of wisdom, manling.” 
756“If you have any better ideas,” said Felix. “I am open to them.” The silence was deafening. 
757  
758Roche drove the sledge towards the gates. On the back was a cheap wooden coffin, bags of feed for the ponies, a ragged tent and a few other things. He cracked the reins to keep the animals moving. The runners hissed on the snow as they moved towards the gate. 
759The guardsmen on duty looked at him with more suspicion than they normally might. Roche met their gazes easily. The sergeant looked at a scroll, and then eyed him once more, as if checking to see whether he matched a description. Roche kept an expression of bovine stupidity on his face. It matched the peasant garb he wore. If these fools were looking for the master, they would be looking for a nobleman, and maybe a blonde-haired girl. They would hardly be looking for him. 
760He was confident. If they searched the sledge he had his story ready and all the evidence would confirm it. Even so, he felt a slight tension rising within him. Things could go wrong. They had in the past; they might do so again now. 
761“What’s your business, peasant?” asked a short man who had emerged from behind the guards. His fine uniform and his swaggering arrogant manner marked him as an officer of some sort, most likely one of these so-called Kislevite nobles. Roche did not like his manner. He memorised the man’s face, in case an opportunity for vengeance should arise in the future. It wasn’t likely under the circumstances, but you could always hope. A few minutes alone with Roche and his flaying tools would soon rid him of that cocky manner, along with a lot of skin. 
762“Going back to the farm, bury my brother,” said Roche. He could do a convincing impression of the thick guttural Kislevite commoner accent when he had to. “I promised him I would. Said before he died that he wanted to lie alongside ma and I said I would see to it.” 
763“Take him back and burn him, that’s my advice. There’s beastmen in those woods now, despite the patrols.” It was the sergeant who spoke now. His tone was not unfriendly. There was a certain amount of sympathy in it. The hard-faced officer glared at the man. The sergeant’s face became a blank mask, his mouth snapped shut. The Praag city guard still used the lash to enforce discipline. 
764Roche had found there was nothing like it for instilling obedience. 
765“People try and smuggle things in coffins,” said the officer. “People try all sorts of things.” 
766Roche looked at the arrogant idiot but kept his face blank. Most smugglers would be trying to get things into the city, not out. Still, it was not a peasant’s place to point these things out to a nobleman. Peasants in Kislev were obedient, just like they were back home in Sylvania. 
767“I promised him,” said Roche, as if he were so stupid he was still answering the sergeant. “He made me swear by Shallya and Ulric that I would do it. He loved ma. He loved the old place. He said we should never have come to the city. Said he wanted to be buried under the pines.” 
768“Open the box,” said the officer. It was obvious that for some reason he had taken a dislike to Roche. People often did. Roche was used to it. It was his appearance he supposed. Still, there was nothing he could do about it now. 
769“But he’s dead,” said Roche. 
770“If you won’t open it, I’ll have my men do it.” Roche saw the soldiers flinch. They might not have any objections to cutting a man down in hot blood, but none of them wanted to open a coffin that might contain a week-old corpse. 
771“What did he die of?” one of the guards, a whey-faced boy, whose tunic barely fitted, asked nervously. 
772“The coughing sickness. A month ago he was healthy as you. One day he starts coughing and wheezing, says it’s difficult to breathe. Two days ago he was gone, after a month of sweating and fevers and wracking his lungs. It wasn’t pretty.” 
773The soldiers looked even more nervous now. There had been many strange plagues in the city since the siege. Maybe they were remnants of the evil spells cast by the followers of Nurgle, the Plague Lord. Maybe they were just a product of overcrowding, rotten food, the cold and bad sanitation. It was said more folk had died of sickness since the siege ended than had ever died in the battle. Roche could believe it. It was often the way. 
774“I said open the box. Let’s take a look at what you got in there.” “A corpse,” said Roche sullenly. 
775“You’ll be one soon if you don’t open it,” said the officer. He was obviously one of those small men who liked using every speck of power he had been granted. And he obviously liked venting his authority on such hulking giants as Roche. Roche would definitely remember this man. He might even make a special trip back to Praag for him, if the master allowed. He did not like being bullied. 
776Roche clambered down off the sledge and walked back to the coffin. The soldiers all drew back slightly save the officer who strode officiously along beside him. Just one minute with the flaying tools, that’s all I ask, thought Roche. He levered open the coffin, and did his best to stand so that his shadow fell on the master. He knew how the sun affected his tender skin. 
777The officer looked down on the recumbent form. The master was garbed as a peasant too, and his hair was messed up. His pallor did not require make-up; the smudges of dirt on his face served to highlight the paleness of his skin. They had done this several times in the past when they needed to leave a city in a hurry. Roche could remember his father and grandfather telling him tales of similar departures, some in considerably more dangerous circumstances than this one. 
778The officer removed his glove and laid a hand on the body’s chest, as if not wanting to quite believe his eyes. 
779“Definitely dead,” he said disappointedly. 
780“That’s why I am going to bury him.” 
781“And I’ll have less of your sauce,” said the captain. “Another word and I’ll have my men peel your hide off.” Roche looked at his boots to hide the fury in his eyes. He loathed these petty jumped-up officials with a passion and he had been forced to deal with more than his fair share down the years. Now is not the time, he told himself. He did his best to look like the absolute embodiment of browbeaten peasantry. 
782The officer looked like he was seriously considering having his men tear the coffin apart. That would not be such a good thing, Roche thought, for then they might find the hidden compartment beneath the master that held the talisman. Who knew what the master might do under those circumstances. Roche knew all about his obsession with that ancient trinket, had been forced to listen to tales of it on countless evenings, till even he was sick of it, and his master’s plans. If I hear the name of Nospheratus one more time, thought Roche, I will… 
783The officer took another closer look at the master. Roche held his breath. He had a dagger hidden in his boot. If anything happened, the first thing he would do was stick it in the cocky officer’s gut and twist. Men took a long time to die when you did that right. Roche knew this from practical experience. Eventually though, even this man seemed to tire of his petty bullying. 
784“Get out of here,” he said. “Go bury your dead.” 
785Roche nodded dumbly, clambered onto the sledge and cracked the reins. He could see looks of something like sympathy in the soldiers’ eyes. 
786  
787“It looks like your friend is starting to heal,” said the priestess of Shallya. There was grey in her hair but her calm face was very pretty. She smiled as she spoke. “He’s still very, very weak but I think he has come back from the brink. I believe he will live.” 
788Felix glanced around the small spartan chamber. Max had been moved to the hospice on the temple grounds at the duke’s insistence; that way the most powerful of the healers would always be on call. Felix smiled back at the woman. “I am glad to hear it.” 
789“Herr Schreiber is a very strong-willed man, and there is a power in him that aids the healing.” 
790“Do you know what happened to him?” 
791“No — the Mistress of Healers claims that some malign energy entered his brain somehow. It cost her an enormous effort to drive it out. She has been confined to her own room for a day now. Your friend must be a very important man for the duke to insist she did this.” 
792“I am sure he will make a very large donation to the goddess,” said Felix sourly. It seemed that even the supposedly independent and altruistic sisters of Shallya, helpmates to the poor and weak, were subject to political interference. He did not know why this should leave him feeling surprised and disappointed but it did. The woman caught his hard tone and her face became less friendly. 
793“Can I look in on him now?” he asked, forcing a smile. It was best not to antagonise the priestesses. You never knew when your own life might depend on their help. Their prayers and herbs seemed to have helped his own illness. He felt better now, even if he was not entirely healed. 
794“If you wish, but be quiet. He is asleep, and he must rest to heal. And cover your mouth with a handkerchief. It would be terrible to have him recover from his own ailment only to be taken away by your flux.” 
795Felix nodded and walking as softly as he could, entered the sickroom. It smelled of mint and camphor and other herbs he remembered from his childhood when he had visited his mother during her last long illness. 
796Felix was shocked. Max had always been a powerful, energetic man. Now he looked pale and feeble indeed, as drawn as a consumption sufferer. It was such a dreadful change in so short a time. At least his breathing was deep and regular. Felix looked up at the dove icon on the walls, and offered a prayer to Shallya for mercy and healing for the wizard. If the goddess heard she gave no sign. 
797Felix turned to leave and heard a change in the wizard’s breathing. He turned to see that Max’s eyes were open wide, and there was a wildness and fear in them. His hand stretched out feebly and he whispered one word that sent a chill running down Felix’s spine. “Nagash,” he said, and slumped back into unconsciousness. 
798  
799“Nagash,” said Gotrek grimly. Even in the warmth of the tavern, surrounded by a hundred drunken warriors, the smell of beer and the sound of singing and dancing, the word was enough to chill Felix like the ague. He tried to tell himself it was his lingering fever but knew that this time it was not. The name conjured up an image of a remote time when dark gods wandered the world and slew entire kingdoms. Not even the cruellest of mothers would use it to frighten the most disobedient children. 
800“A name of ill omen indeed,” said Ivan Petrovich, sending another glass of vodka tumbling down his throat. His hand shook as he did so. 
801“Snorri doesn’t like this one little bit,” said Snorri, and for once Felix had to agree with him whole-heartedly. 
802“So, our pet wizard thinks this talisman is somehow connected with the Great Necromancer, manling?” 
803“We didn’t exactly discuss the matter. It was the only word he said before he fell back into a coma. It would explain why this Krieger was so keen to get his hands on the thing though.” 
804Felix considered this as he took another slug of vodka. The fiery liquid warmed his belly, but did nothing to remove the chill from his heart. The Great Necromancer, he thought. A being who had fought with the man-god Sigmar before the Empire was even founded and who, if dark legend were to be believed, was responsible for the slaying of an entire nation in the dawn ages of the world. Nagash was by all accounts the mightiest wizard the world had ever known, a necromancer who had mastered the darkest secrets of life and death. Who knew what instrument of ultimate evil he had been capable of creating? Whatever it was, it was now in the hands of Adolphus Krieger, or whatever his true name was. Along with Ulrika. 
805Felix did not want to consider that. He was having a hard enough time keeping the idea that Krieger was the blood drinker who had killed those women out of his aching head. 
806Felix shuddered. This was all they needed. Ulrika abducted, Max in a coma, the Chaos hordes on the march, and now an ancient artefact in the hands of a mad sorcerer. How could it get worse? 
807  
808Adolphus felt better. It was night, and his skin was starting to heal. The moon’s eerie light gave the snow-covered landscape a spectral beauty and filled him with the urge to hunt. From the window of the hunting lodge he could see fat Osrik and his men approaching. There were a number of sleds and bodyguards. His keen eyes could make out the men and women wrapped in heavy furs. Doubtless they had not had trouble getting out of the gates. They were after all a pack of well-known local nobles, and if they were so foolish as to want to go on a hunting trip, no gate guards were going to contradict them. 
809He could see that the girl Ulrika was with them, her head leaning against Osrik’s fat shoulder. She was still stunned by the kiss he had given her last night. Adolphus was looking forward to another sip of her blood. It looked as if the plan had worked. They were all outside the city now, and preparations were being made for the trip to Sylvania. His coven had seen to it that he was well provided with everything he, Roche and the girl could need for the trip. They would all soon be ready to go. 
810He clutched at the talisman. It hung around his neck now. He could feel something in it, something that was responding to his presence. He put his hand on it just to feel the cool stone under his fingers. It was certainly a fascinating thing, at least to his kind, and that was what made it so dangerous. 
811Once he was back in his adopted homeland it would grant him power undreamed of over the aristocracy of the night. He would become the Lord of Vampires in truth, and his reign would be eternal. 
812Now it was time to go and greet the girl. Perhaps she might prove to be the one.