Hammers of Sigmar by Darius Hinks && C L Werner

Author:Darius Hinks && C L Werner
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2015-09-30T09:54:04+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Menuasaraz-Senuamaraz-Kemurzil

(Mopus)

Returning to the Kharvall Steppe is even worse than I remember. The air is so hot and sulphurous that I’m wracked by a violent coughing fit. When I wipe the spittle from my face there are a few withered molars lying in my palm and I curse Sigmar for dragging me up here. I warned Boreas against playing war games and now look what’s happened. My stomach lurches again, but I manage to steady it with a quick draft of my philtre. My head is full of metallic buzzing, and energy is fizzing over my skin.

Giraldus is riding as close to my Coven Throne as he can. A tempest of souls separates us, but I can still see his outrage at what has been done to his former kingdom.

Behind us, our fleshless host is clawing itself up into the moonlight. I ignore Giraldus and study the army we have created. Despite my misgivings, I can’t help swelling with pride as my morghast heaves its huge frame from the blackened stone as I form the crowds of skeletons into orderly ranks. We’re in a fume-filled crater that must be a mile wide but we’ve filled it with revenants and cadavers from every realm. Such a horde could lay waste to anything the gods have to offer. Death is the great level­ler, after all.

‘There it is,’ says Giraldus, his voice tight with anger.

I turn back and see that the fumes have rolled away to reveal a soaring wall of brass. It’s stained with centuries of dried blood and I steer my chariot backwards, unable to take it all in. I can make out the jawbone of a skull but the rest of the brass idol reaches so high that it seems to support the clouds. This is the source of the energy that’s rattling my teeth and humming over my skin. Rage is pouring from the bloodstained metal, rippling the air and churning my shrivelled guts.

I hold a hand in front of my face as though blocking the sun.

‘We’ll have to be fast,’ I say. I turn to Giraldus. ‘How do we enter? Tell me that you learned that much before destroying anyone else’s chance of gaining knowledge about this place.’

He’s too furious to notice my harsh tone. ‘There are steps to the mouth. We enter through the teeth.’

‘Of course we do,’ I grimace, steering the Coven Throne towards the jaw. I deploy most of the army around the perimeter of the crater, but I take a few hundred skeletons with me, to keep an eye on Giraldus as much as anything else.

As we approach the skull, the power spilling from it becomes almost overwhelming. There’s a deafening grinding sound in the air and my bones ache as the throne lurches and sways above the black rocks. Even the spectral steeds that are drawing my chariot twist and writhe before the wrath of the skull, but I do not allow the princes to pause. I have no desire to be here when Khurnac awakes.

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