Hamilcar- Champion of the Gods by David Guymer

Author:David Guymer [Guymer, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780308678
Published: 2019-01-09T15:53:22+00:00

Chapter seventeen

Lord-Veritant Vikaeus swept into the keep like a cold wind. The Dracoth she rode padded over the cracked flagstones with the cool deliberation of an alligator returning to water. Its scales were the blue of Celestial hoarfrost, its armour white, tack and harness glittering in the torches that burned sporadically in the handful of sheltered sconces about the disarming chamber. With cold-blooded patience it surveyed the weapons benches and alcoves, and the chipped stone columns that lined the east wall. I hid behind the farthest column and tried not to breathe. While the Dracoth satisfied itself, two Concussors in the frost-white bastion plate and silver trim of the Knights Merciless drew in alongside. They had their lightning hammers drawn and their Sigmarite Shields raised. They all had their helmets fitted. That confirmed my worst suspicions.

The Knights Merciless donned their war-masks only when in hostile lands, or in the dispensation of Sigmar’s justice.

They were here for me.

Vikaeus swung one foot out from the stirrup and slid down the Dracoth’s scaly flank, landing in a clump of sigmarite that she nevertheless made graceful. Drawing her abjuration staff from its saddle sleeve, she left a lingering hand on the beast’s jaw as she turned to scour the chamber’s crannies with habitually suspicious eyes.

The sight of her stole the breath from my lungs, even reaching into my veins to pick their pockets too. My blood felt thick. The pounding of my heart left an echo in my head. Part of me was tempted to hand myself over there and then, simply to know what it would feel like to have my gaze returned. I had to physically put my hand on my breast and push myself back into hiding.

‘I am sorry, Cryax, I know. But this is not Sigmaron. You will have to remain here.’ Vikaeus turned to the two Concussors. ‘I will not be long.’ With that, she turned and strode away, behind another column and out of my view.

‘Welcome back, Lady Vikaeus,’ came another voice that I couldn’t see the owner of from where I was hiding. A mortal by the sound of it, a woman, and walking towards the Lord-Veritant from the door to the main halls. ‘The lords Frankos and Akturus await you in the High Hall.’

‘That is swift. Good. What I have to say to them is urgent.’

Her footsteps thudded further into the obscurity of the keep, and I felt myself breathe easier with her gone. I glanced back to see the two Concussors still idling by the open gate where Vikaeus had left them.

‘Strike,’ I swore.

As I watched, one of them slid from his saddle and approached Vikaeus’ Dracoth. The Paladin caught its bridle armour almost playfully in one hand and whispered something that I assumed to be reassuring in its ear. What words might reassure a Dracoth I had no idea, and less interest in knowing.

Only the purest of spirit or the noblest of purpose could hope to tame a child of Dracothion.

Naturally, then, the Celestial beasts had never had much truck with me.

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