The Tainted Heart (Warhammer Age of Sigmar) by C L Werner

Author:C L Werner [Werner, C L]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-08-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Twilight sent a shimmering panoply of fading illusion and growing shadow across the crawling dunes of Droost. The ever-creeping desert undulated towards the horizon, its scaly sands struggling to maintain their tortuous mirages while the sun withdrew its rays. Night would restrict them once more to their confusing distortion of stars and constellations, the deadly dance of stellar lights that was even more lethal to the unprepared traveller and would find him hopelessly lost in the wastes.

Talorcan turned his Kharadron far-glass upon the sky, using its filters to navigate the desert’s distortion. In this respect, at least, the little band of fugitives was not unprepared. In almost every other aspect, contemplating their condition sent a shiver through the witch hunter. Leukon had strapped supplies to the back of the fourth demigryph he had brought with him when he rescued Talorcan and Esselt, but the wizard had drastically underestimated what they would need to survive a trek across the desert and how much food and water three people and four demigryphs would demand. Leukon had a brilliant mind, privy to esoteric knowledge that was utterly alien to Talorcan, but in mundane matters like bringing moccasins for the feet of the animals so they would not be scorched by the metallic sands or exactly how much meat-meal each of the brutes would require to stay fit, Leukon’s understanding was less precise. A lack of blankets, for instance, would compel the fugitives to goad the demigryphs into lying down so that their riders could use the beasts for warmth in the chill of night. Getting them back on their feet in the morning was not always an easy task and precious time would be lost walking the animals to work the stiffness from their limbs before they would be capable of taking on a rider.

Folding down the far-glass, Talorcan descended the inward slope of the crest of the dune he had climbed to make his star-sighting. Esselt and Leukon were preparing camp down below, using the height of the dunes around them to block out the light of their fire and an overhanging cloak to diffuse the smoke they sent up. A skilled tracker would be able to spot a plume of smoke dozens of miles off by the way it disrupted the shimmering illusions thrown up by the scaly sands. The best could even spot such signs by night as well as day. Talorcan himself could, and he knew there were trackers even better who had taken the brother­hood’s vows. Knowing such men would be on their trail increased the urgency he felt. The time when they could consider themselves ahead of any pursuit grew shorter with each passing hour.

They had covered a great distance in only a day and a night of hard travel. Oghim Kor was many leagues behind them when the fugitives at last brought their steeds to a rest and set up camp. Alchemical mixtures brought by Leukon had instilled in the demigryphs the verve to maintain the incredible pace and hideous exertion that had been coaxed out of them.

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