Chronicles Of Malus Darkblade: Volume 2 (Warhammer Chronicles) by Dan Abnett & Mike Lee & C L Werner

Author:Dan Abnett & Mike Lee & C L Werner [Abnett, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-05-14T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DAEMONS AND CUTTHROATS

Cold water splashed Malus in the face. He came to, sputtering and coughing, propped up against the hard stone of the battlements. Pools of blood and body parts littered the paving stones around him.

A figure knelt in front of the highborn, holding an upended water bottle. ‘Sorry to wake you, my lord,’ Hauclir said calmly, ‘but it looks like we’re about to be attacked again, so I don’t have the luxury of allowing you to sleep off that little knock you got on the head. You and I have a bit of talking to do while we’re both still able to do it.’

Malus tried to rub the water out of his rheumy eyes. When his vision returned, he found Hauclir to be studying him intently, paying especial attention to his face and neck. The former guard captain was dressed much like the rest of the mercenaries, though the cut of his robes were finer and better kept, and his kheitan was thick, sturdy dwarf-hide. He wore his customary mail hauberk, and his short sword sat in its oiled scabbard. A long, knotted oak cudgel dangled loosely from his right hand.

The highborn shook his head bemusedly. ‘I thought I was dreaming,’ he muttered thickly. With tentative fingers he reached up and prodded at the side of his head.

‘I had much the same reaction,’ Hauclir said dryly. His lips twisted in a sarcastic grin, but his dark eyes were cold and hard. ‘Now, I’m not going to ask how you somehow went from a closely-hunted outlaw to the Witch King’s personal champion; I’ve seen the way your damned mind works, and nothing you do surprises me any more. Instead, I want you to tell me, in very compelling detail, why you saw fit to betray each and every man in your service after we left you at Karond Kar.’

Malus’s own expression hardened. His former retainer’s impertinent tone caused the highborn to bristle. ‘You were my damned vassal!’ he snapped. ‘Your life was mine to use as I pleased! I owe you no explanation.’

But Hauclir was far from cowed by the highborn’s imperious tone. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his scarred, angular face. ‘Look around you, my lord. Do you fancy you’re reclining in your high tower back at the Hag? No. You’re sitting on a battlefield, surrounded by blood and spilled guts, and the nearest nobleman for two miles is lying at the bottom of the wall with the rest of the rubbish. Right at the moment I own this part of the fortress wall, so you’re going to play things by my rules. So let’s hear your story, my lord, and it better be a good one, or else I’ll chuck you over this damned wall myself.’

The former retainer’s tone was light, even cheerful, but Malus looked in his eyes and saw the anger burning there. He had absolutely no doubt that Hauclir meant every word he said. So he shrugged, and told the former guardsman everything.

Or at least he tried to.

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