Sigvald by Darius Hinks

Author:Darius Hinks [Hinks, Darius]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: BL Publishing
Published: 2011-07-21T20:06:19+00:00

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Mord Huk sniffed the cool night breeze as it whipped across the crimson lake. “Fresh blood,” he grunted. His head resembled that of a grotesque, feral dog, complete with scarred snout, drooling, muscular jaws and a row of thick, yellow canines. He drew his steed to a halt. It was a lumbering mass of scarred muscle, iron and brass, welded together in vague imitation of a bull.

Mord Huk tilted back his head and wrinkled his bristly snout. “Lots of fresh blood.” He turned to the ranks of brass and iron behind him and waved his fist at a nearby rise.

Bursts of steam escaped from his mount’s mechanised joints as it stomped to the top of the hill. Once there, Mord Huk dropped down into the snow with a muffled crunch and peered out across the moonlit landscape. A low growl rumbled in his chest. Ahead of him was the fortress of Ör, surrounded by its broad, dark lake. Hundreds of lights were blinking along the fortress’ circular walls and, even at this distance, he could see mounds of bodies, piled across the slender bridge that led to his citadel. He had been attacked. A few broken banners were wedged in the corpses and he shook his head in disbelief as he saw the circular icon emblazoned across them. The greasy hair that covered his neck stood up in thick bristles and his hulking frame began to shake, rattling a helmet hung from his battered armour. The helmet was cast in brass and designed to resemble a leering skull. As it shook, it clanged ominously.

Mord Huk led his men down to the bridge, snorting and growling as he approached the piles of mangled limbs.

Some of the dog-helmed guards were picking their way through the mess, dragging behind them Sigvald’s surgeon, Hazül. The creature was unconscious, its wiry body a mess of open wounds, and its shroud of lilac hair in tatters.

At the sight of their lord, the soldiers dropped their prisoner and fell to their knees.

Mord Huk reined in his mount and glared down at them, long trails of drool hanging from his black muzzle. He looked at Hazül in confusion for a moment, then gestured to a nearby banner. It was torn and scorched, but the device of Slaanesh was still clearly visible. “Who?” he grunted.

One of the guards clanged his fist against his cuirass. “Lord, it was the child with golden hair.”

Mord Huk shifted forward in his saddle, panting slightly. “Sigvald?”

The guard nodded.

Mord Huk leant back with a snort. “Sigvald,” he repeated, beginning to shake with laughter.

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