Exkavar stood to attention as all around him men were decapitated and ground screaming into the snow. White blood splattered tent walls. Limbs flew through the air to impact with sickening crunches.
He could hear them… we have been imprisoned for thousands of years we are free now to roam and kill and devour we are free to take back the land we are free to kill.
The Skanda halted, and looked up at General Exkavar. "You were heading to Vor?" he said.
Exkavar nodded, and then blinked, for behind The Skanda walked General Graal. The man held his head high, and his blue eyes shone, but his face was riddled with patches of black insect chitin. As if he had started to blend. To become a part of the ancient race known as Ankarok.
"You have another army, south and west of here."
"I will never divulge military information," snarled Exkavar, and attacked in a blur, sword slamming at Skanda's head. The little boy did not move, but Graal's sword intervened – and slowly, Graal pushed Exkavar's weapon back. With a flick of the wrist, Graal disabled Exkavar, then his head snapped left as if awaiting instruction.
"We have no further need for him. Kill him," said Skanda.
Graal's sword cut Exkavar's head from his shoulders. Graal looked up, and all around the camp had descended into death, and now silence. The several thousand Ankarok warriors stood motionless, eyes glistening, skin glistening. They were perfectly immobile. As if controlled. As if turned to stone.
"Kell comes from the north," said Graal.
"We head south," said Skanda.
"Kell has an army, now," said Graal. "That's what the patrol told us. Maybe five thousand men. Maybe more."
"Our priority is Vor," said Skanda. "Meshwar will be driven back. We need that city."
"And what of Kell?"
Skanda smiled, black teeth glistening. He reached out, and patted Graal's arm. "Don't worry. You shall have your time. You shall have your chance. And you shall have revenge."
Skanda turned, and a high-pitched squeal reverberated throughout the valley. The Ankarok turned south, and like a buzzing plague of insects, headed through the forests… and towards the unsuspecting Army of Silver.
CHAPTER 15
It was night. Kell crawled through the snow, which froze his knees and made him wince. Damn, he hated it when his knees seized up. Getting old, he thought to himself bitterly. Old, and weak, and tired, and weary. Weary of the world. Weary of the years. Weary of the fighting. Everything seems so complicated now, why can't it be simple like in the old days? In the old days, Saark would have been hanged from the nearest oak if he'd stepped outside in silk and perfume…
How decadent we've become.
How decadent…
"It's quiet," said Saark, who was lying next to Kell in the snow. "Maybe too quiet?"
"They're out there," said Kell, and his eyes scanned the huge sprawl of Port of Gollothrim below. On the outskirts were massive yards and factories, silent now, still, motionless, a ghost town within a ghost town. Machines should be grinding and clanking, Kell knew. Gollothrim was a thriving anthill, even at night. But not tonight.
The vampires had taken control…
"You know we'll not get them out for combat," said Grak the Bastard, voice low, stroking his beard. He was a reassuring mass in the darkness. Grak had proved himself to be a more than able soldier. "We'll have to go in after them. I reckon those Warlords speak to each other, up here." He tapped his head. "They'll know right enough what happened to Kuradek. Know how Kell disposed of him. There'll be no sneaking in, this time."
Kell scratched his beard. "I need to get to Bhu Vanesh. I need to bury Ilanna in his skull, open the pathway back to the Chaos Halls. They want him back, that much is for sure."
"Who?" said Saark, looking sideways at Kell.
"The Keepers," said Kell, darkly.
"You know way too much for a fat old man," said Saark, and shivered. "And sometimes, you can have too much insight. Me, I'd rather have a plump serving wench sat on my face, ten flagons of ale and a plate of fried pork and eggs in the morning."
Kell stared at Saark. "I have a favour to ask."
"Yes?"
Kell looked down, and seemed to fidget for a moment. He gestured to the vast sprawl of Gollothrim. "It's going to be wild down there, you know that? It's going to be bad. Much worse than Jalder."
"You think?"
"I have a sixth sense about these things," said Kell, quietly. "What I wanted to ask you, what I wanted to… request, was a promise. Something sworn in blood and honour. Can you do that for me, Saark?"
Saark stared into Kell's dark eyes. There was a glint of desperation there. Saark nodded. "Kell. I fool around a lot. But you know, deep down, I was the Sword Champion of King Leanoric. And yes, I betrayed him, but I do have honour – I have honour for my friends, and for those whom I love. I may wear handsome silks and the finest perfumes – don't comment – but when it really matters, I will kill and die if needed. You know that, don't you?"
"I know, laddie." Kell chewed his lip. "If I die down there, Saark, I want you to promise me you'll take care of Nienna. I want you to swear on your lifeblood that you will not treat her bad. You will treat her with respect and honour and dignity, help her with the hard choices in life… hell, I don't know. Be like a guardian for her. She's a tough girl, I know – she's my granddaughter, after all. But she's still just a babe when held against the warped tapestry of the real world. Of history."
"I will do anything for her, Kell. And for you. So yes. I swear. By every ounce of honour in my blood. By every clockwork wheel that turns and gear that steps. You know this, Kell."
Kell turned his gaze back to Gollothrim, and allowed a long breath to hiss free. He gazed past the factories and yards, storage huts, barracks, houses, schools, temples, narrow twisting streets and broad thoroughfares for the moving of goods from the docks. He could see the dark silhouettes of the ships at anchor in the bay. He could see the skeletons of many more new ships, destined to take the vampires abroad, to spread their plague to other continents in search of global dominion. And Kell knew, this would be the hardest fight of his life. He knew death waited for him down there. It looked quiet, it looked safe, but soon the vampires would come drifting out to play. And Kell had to find his way through the maze. Find Bhu Vanesh, and kill the bastard.
"You know I'm coming with you," said Saark.
"No, laddie. You stay here and look after Nienna. That must be your priority. That must be your mission. If things start to turn bad, then you take her. You get away. You take her some place safe. You understand me?"
"I understand."
"I'm trusting you, Saark, with the greatest treasure of my life. Don't let me down."
"I won't, Kell."
Even as they watched, as Kell had predicted, the vampires started to emerge into the dark quarters of Port of Gollothrim. They wandered the streets mostly in packs, some alone. They howled at the moon like dogs. They laughed and squealed, danced and fought. Kell, and Saark, and Grak watched grimly. They watched, down by the wide yard as a group of vampires cornered a woman. She screamed, and ran. They pursued her cackling like demons, and grabbed her, pulling her apart. Her arms came away spewing blood and she fell over, weeping, still alive. The six vampires descended on her, drinking her blood, laughing and singing and masturbating.
"We must go in," growled Grak, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We must end this depravity."
Kell nodded. "I agree. Go get the men ready. I want archers at the front, and we'll descend real slow. Pick off those we can, then divide into small fighting squares. If we stick to the wide avenues, we'll bring the fuckers out onto our spears. You must warn the men – never chase them into narrow alleys. They'll fall on us from above, and our long spears will be useless."