‘They said he found something down deep in the dark, and that it spoke to him and broke him,’ Razek said in a faraway voice, as if reciting a children’s bedtime story. ‘Dwarfs know about that sort of thing. We know better than any man or elf what gnaws at the roots of the mountains and what coils in the dark beneath the world.’ He tipped the jug and the contents dribbled into his beard. ‘He used the dead,’ Razek spat. ‘That’s what did it. He forced the dead to serve him. That’s a power no mortal should have, let alone a creature like mad, bad Kadon.’
Neferata sat silently, digesting this new fact. She thought again of the black sun, and the voice like needles on bone. She suspected that it had spoken to Abhorash, but Ushoran? If he wasn’t the cause, what was? The stones beneath her feet seemed to tremble like the flank of a purring cat. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation. ‘But things are different now,’ she said, prodding gently.
He grunted. ‘King Borri feels that what’s done is done.’
‘Not a very dwarf-like attitude,’ she said.
Razek looked at her. ‘Careful, woman, any other dwarf would have taken that for an insult. No, my father is practical. It’s why he made me his hearth-warden, after all.’
‘A prince and a spymaster,’ Neferata said. ‘Impressive.’
‘I’ve always thought so. Besides, who can a king trust but family?’
‘In my homeland, the answer was “anyone else”,’ Neferata said, smiling. ‘Perhaps dwarfs are different.’
‘We are. We are nothing like you, Neferata of Lahmia,’ Razek said seriously. ‘If your race survives for a million-million years you will never accomplish a third of what my people have forgotten.’
Neferata frowned. ‘Perhaps. Or perhaps we will accomplish more.’
Razek chuckled. ‘That’s the spirit,’ he rumbled. ‘I owe you a debt, woman,’ Razek added, handing the empty jug to her. ‘That’s why I’m here. I’ll be doing all of my business with you.’
Neferata smiled. It was exactly as she had been hoping. ‘You honour me, Thane,’ she said, inclining her head.
‘I’ve already sent messages off to that effect to King Borri, may his fundament warm the throne for centuries yet,’ Razek said. ‘And I’ll be informing Ushoran as well.’ He squinted. ‘He’s a weasel that one, but I trust you to keep accounts settled.’
‘I’ve always had a head for figures,’ Neferata said, upending the jug. It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. Razek grunted. ‘Anything else I can do for you, mighty thane?’
‘Get something better to drink. We’ll need to keep our throats wet if we’re to dicker properly,’ he said, turning towards the door.
Neferata watched him go. She let the jug fall and laughed as it shattered. But it was only a brief noise. Sobriety returned quickly. ‘Did you hear any of that?’ she said.
‘Of course,’ Khaled said, stepping out of her chambers. Anmar followed him. ‘Foul creature,’ he said.
‘But useful,’ Neferata said, kicking aside a broken shard of the jug. She rubbed her chin, thinking.
‘Yes, you are good at finding tools, are you not, my lady?’
Neferata spun, her eyes darting to the door to her private chambers. Khaled’s sword sprang into his hand and he lunged smoothly, followed by Anmar. The siblings leapt for the bulky shape which had entered the audience chamber behind them on noiseless feet. Taloned paws caught the blades of both swords and sent the two vampires crashing to the floor in a heap.
‘You left the window open,’ Ushoran said through a thicket of fangs. He had forsaken his guise from earlier, revealing his true monstrous visage. He was covered in so much muscle that he was forced to stoop over. He balanced on his knuckles and his bat-like face had lost all traces of humanity. His fine clothes had been replaced by a simple loincloth that flapped alarmingly as he sank into a squat. Beady eyes fastened on Neferata and a tongue like a red worm darted out, dabbing at a bit of dried blood that clung to the lipless jaws.
‘I wasn’t aware I would be receiving visitors through any other aperture than the door,’ Neferata said, waving Khaled and Anmar aside. The two looked at Ushoran in horrified fascination. Neferata wondered what they made of the other vampire, inhuman as he was.
‘I find the climb refreshing,’ Ushoran said. His red eyes swivelled. ‘You’ve broken a jug. How clumsy. Did I startle you?’
‘No. I simply didn’t like it.’
‘You still have a propensity for breaking things you don’t like, then?’ Ushoran eyed Khaled and Anmar.
‘Only jugs,’ Neferata said. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure, my lord?’ she said, bowing shallowly.
‘I wished to speak to you, away from prying eyes,’ Ushoran said. He reached out, snagged a bit of the jug and scraped at the floor with it. Neferata looked at the shape he had cut into the floor and grunted.
‘Go,’ she said, gesturing sharply. They went, as silent as shadows. Ushoran watched them go. Then he grinned, displaying his mouthful of twisted fangs.
‘You always did have an eye for the pretty ones,’ he said.
‘At least mine stay pretty,’ Neferata said. It was a petty thing to say, but the abortive growl that rippled from Ushoran made it worth it. ‘I suppose that someone told you that Razek visited me?’
‘I needed no one to tell me he would,’ Ushoran said. He snapped at the air. ‘I need the dwarfs, Neferata. Strigos needs them. They have the artifice I need to pull this kingdom of apes up out of the muck.’
‘And you offer them gold in return,’ Neferata said, crossing her arms. ‘Where does that gold come from, I wonder? Have you turned these barbarians into a productive society?’
Ushoran gave a fart of laughter. ‘Productive? Ha!’ He grinned and scratched at the floor with his talons. ‘They were barely scraping by when I found them. In a few generations they would have been no better than the ghouls that haunt the tunnels beneath this place. Inbred cannibals!’
‘And Kadon?’ Neferata prompted.
‘Pfaugh, Kadon,’ Ushoran said, motioning dismissively. ‘He was nothing. Old and weak, like all mortals become. But he had his uses.’
‘He seems to have had something in common with an old friend of ours,’ Neferata said.
Ushoran sat back on his haunches and gazed at her silently for a moment. Then, ‘The dwarf said that, did he?’
‘Not in so many words.’ Neferata stepped past Ushoran and into her chambers. He followed nimbly. ‘Kadon was a necromancer, like W’soran.’
‘Like Nagash,’ Ushoran said.
‘Yes. And how did that come about, hmmm?’
Ushoran went to the dangling man and lifted him. A groan slipped from the man’s lips. Ushoran fastened his lamprey mouth over the unfortunate’s throat and, with a sound like ripping papyrus, began to drink what remained of his blood. Neferata sipped from her goblet, watching him.
When he had finished, he turned to her and said, ‘I don’t know.’
Neferata let the lie pass. Talking to Ushoran was akin to swordplay. The obvious drop of the guard was a likely feint. Instead, she settled for a change of tactics. ‘Where is the gold coming from?’ she asked again.
Ushoran cocked his head. ‘Mourkain has many secrets. Kadon collected much wealth during his tenure as hetman.’ He licked his fangs. ‘We are in the process of re-opening the vaults.’
‘And where did Kadon get this wealth?’ Neferata said. ‘Did he steal it from the dwarfs, Ushoran?’ Even you would not be so foolish, would you, she thought.
‘Here and there,’ Ushoran said. ‘Kadon was a fool and a degenerate, but he was a miser of some distinction. Perhaps he collected some dwarf wealth in his more active years. What does it matter?’