The Arkanaut's Oath (Warhammer Age of Sigmar) by Guy Haley

Author:Guy Haley [Haley, Guy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-08-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LORD CRAVE’S JOURNAL

Night wrapped the archipelago in its embrace. From every island came the hooting of animals, the buzz of insects. The endrins hummed. The airscrews chopped. Drekki strode the length of the deck, back and forth, back and forth, pacing out his thoughts. Lerarus was in her cabin, working on the journal.

Evening shone up from below. Hysh was under the realm of Chamon, halfway through its daily circumnavigation of the sky. He wondered how fast it must go to cover such distance. Very fast, he concluded, after a few swift calculations. Better duardin had worked that problem over before, though, he thought. Past a ­certain scale, science disintegrated into metaphysics. No matter how much Otherek Zhurafon insisted that all things were knowable, some things really were not. Hysh moved because Hysh had to. Its speed was that required to light up the day and usher in night, no more, and no less.

Urdi approached. ‘The wizard says she’s ready for you now, captain. We’re finished.’

Drekki nodded. Unfortunate that, Urdi getting his mitts on the book. He’d rather have kept him away from the wizard and this sensitive business. But it turned out Urdi knew Bastion letter cypher better than she.

‘Right you are, Urdi,’ Drekki said.

He went below. Ildrin was singing tunelessly from the brig near the stern, kicking the wall to beat out time.

‘Knock it off, Ildrin!’ Drekki hollered. Predictably, Ildrin did not, but sang louder and kicked harder. Drekki shook his head, and knocked on Lerarus’ door.

‘Come!’ Lerarus called.

Drekki entered. There was just enough room in there for the two of them, if he stayed back by the door. There were rumpled blankets on the bed where Urdi had been sitting. Lerarus had made best use of the cramped space, finding a pallet to lift her up so she could sit cross-legged at the tiny desk – it was far too low for her to use the chair. She had the book open before her.

‘I hear you’ve had some luck with that journal,’ Drekki said.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘thanks to Urdi.’ She flipped it closed and rubbed her face tiredly.

‘Not good?’

‘There is no such thing as good tidings, not in this world,’ she said.

‘Share them with me,’ he said. ‘Good or bad.’

‘The Craves were chasing us. According to the crest in the front here, this book was written by Alois Crave, Lord Crave’s nephew by his third sister. In it, he outright says he was commissioned to come after me.’

‘Let me guess,’ said Drekki. ‘If they’re smearing ships with dark magic gunk, they’re not playing on the side of good any more.’

‘It’s not that,’ said Lerarus. ‘I don’t think it was them who painted the ship, but I do think they want the talisman for themselves.’

‘I see. Why? Are they of the Integrationist sympathy? Could that be it?’

She shook her head. ‘Not publicly. They’ve been scrupulously neutral, right the way through. My father believes they’re looking for favour from whoever emerges out of this in charge.’

‘Then maybe they’re not daemon worshippers,’ said Drekki.

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