The Serpent Queen Page 8

  Felix knew his only chance lay in keeping Steyr talking. Though he saw no way out of his situation, he was determined to put it off for as long as possible. ‘I thought you said that you had a sister,’ he said quickly. ‘I don‘t see her here.’

  Steyr’s smile disappeared. ‘No, she is not. She is otherwise occupied at present.’

  Pieter growled softly. ‘She betrayed us, didn’t she?’ He tensed and Felix winced as the vampire’s grip tightened. His arms were growing numb.

  ‘No, she didn’t,’ Steyr said forcefully. ‘She had no choice in the matter, and we all know that. Even as we all knew what sort of fate likely awaited us when we came to these bloody jungles.’ He cut his eyes back to Felix. ‘One does what one must, for those one loves, regardless of the consequences. The Loves of Ottokar and Myrmidia, act II, scene six.’

  ‘Yes,’ Felix said. He felt a flush of guilt. He hadn’t seen his family in years, and there was no love lost there. He’d never been the son his father had wanted, and after his mother’s death, he had only had as much contact with the old man as was required, and even less with his brothers.

  ‘I’m glad you understand,’ Steyr said. ‘It will make this whole process much easier, in the long run. And afterwards, well, you’ll join our merry band, and you and I will speak of literature and the great places that await us in the years to come, Felix. I shall yet convince you of Tarradasch’s worth, my friend.’

  ‘So squatting in the jungle isn’t your endgame, then?’ Felix said.

  Steyr laughed and said, ‘Of course not.’ He tapped two fingers to his temple. ‘I’ve got big plans, me. The whole of eternity spreads out before us. Who’d waste it in this green hell?’ He swept a hand out to indicate the ships. ‘We were lucky, despite Gregory’s impatience. There were a number of ships in the quay, the night we killed the port. And they sit there still, awaiting my command to set forth and wreak a red storm along these cursed coasts.’

  Before Felix could reply, he heard a crash. The door behind Gregory shuddered. The vampire tossed aside what was left of the head and turned with a perplexed grunt. Outside, something bellowed loudly and the door shuddered. ‘Secure that door!’ Steyr snapped.

  ‘It is secure,’ Gregory snarled. ‘It’d take an ogre to move it.’

  The door bulged and shook. The wood cracked and splintered, and the palisade trembled. Gregory backed away, his khopesh raised. Pieter’s grip on Felix had slackened as the vampire‘s attention was on the door. ‘What is it? What is it?’

  ‘Maybe another lizard is trying to get in,’ Steyr muttered. ‘The brutes are far too fond of the taste of carrion for my liking.’ He reached for Felix. Felix seized his chance, when he saw it, tearing himself free of Pieter’s grip. He flung himself past Steyr, who snarled and stabbed at him, pinning his cloak to the ground even as Felix rolled towards his sword. He snatched up his blade just in time to meet Steyr’s next slash. The vampire’s blow sent him staggering back, and his arms and wrists felt numb. ‘This won’t do you any good,’ Steyr growled, lashing out. Again Felix parried the blow, and again the force of it threatened to shatter his wrists. Steyr was as strong as any blood-sucker Felix had yet encountered, if lacking in others’ gravitas.

  He stepped back. When he felt a hand snag his jerkin, he realised that Steyr had manoeuvred him back towards the knot of slavering vampires. Worm-pale hands shot towards him and jaws gaped in animal glee as they lunged for him.

  Felix dipped his head, raised his shoulder, and thrust himself into them. There was no use trying to get away, so it was best to go through. His sudden movement surprised them, and the vampires scattered for a moment. Felix stumbled but was on his feet and past them a moment later, interposing Karaghul between them. He heard Steyr howl, ‘Pieter!’

  Something flashed towards him, serpent-swift, and he barely jerked aside as Pieter’s blade darted for his face. Felix slapped the lighter blade aside and stumbled back as Steyr’s brother circled him like a blood-mad stoat. The other vampires joined in the game, lunging at him and leaping away as Karaghul chopped out at them.

  Felix could hear wood cracking, and he hoped that whatever was trying to get in did so and fast. If he could dart past it, while the vampires were occupied, he might be able to make the mangroves. He had no idea where he’d go from there, but anywhere was better than here.

  A vampire rushed him, arms spread. Felix danced aside. The creatures were quick, but lacked the sinister grace he’d come to associate with their kind. Another bounded at him, and he nearly fell avoiding it. Pieter chuckled as he circled Felix. ‘This is fun, isn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Not in the least,’ Felix said. He was shaking and bathed in sweat. He was running on adrenaline and fear, and while the latter wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, the former could only keep him upright for so long. Pieter came at him in a rush, quicker than Felix’s eye could follow. With more instinct than skill, Felix parried a thrust that would have perforated him. He staggered away, his sword arm aching and his shoulder throbbing. Pieter giggled and bounded towards him.

  At that moment, the door burst inwards in a spray of splinters. Through the cloud of wood pulp and dust, a broad, squat shape stalked, death clutched in its hand. ‘Where are you, manling?’ a familiar voice bellowed. The words reverberated through the town.

  ‘Gotrek,’ Felix said, and then more loudly, ‘Gotrek! You’re alive!’ Relief thundered through him, lending new strength to his flagging limbs. The Slayer was a welcome sight for all that his survival meant that Felix’s dreams of freedom were now so much ash on the wind.

  ‘Yes, curse you,’ Gotrek roared. ‘Alive and abandoned by my Rememberer. I would have words with you, manling! What did you mean, running away from me like that, eh?’ He pointed a stubby finger at Felix accusingly. ‘If that overgrown lizard hadn‘t tried to eat me last night, I’d have caught up with your cowardly hide sooner!’

  Gregory snarled and slashed down at Gotrek’s shaved skull with his khopesh. Gotrek casually blocked the blow with his axe and the khopesh shivered to fragments in the vampire’s hands. Gregory stepped back, eyes bulging in shock.

  Gotrek ignored the vampire and stomped past him. Felix could see that Gotrek had had as tough a day of it as he himself. The Slayer’s muscular frame was streaked with mud and drying blood, and arrows of odd fletching jutted from his chest and back. There were marks on his flesh that had quite clearly been made by teeth, and bruises and welts that had come from strong blows. But his one eye glittered with resolve. ‘Found some new friends, eh? They’re all zanguzaz, you know,’ he rumbled. ‘I can smell the blood-stink coming out of their pores. Decided to join that witch of yours in the thirsty dark, eh?’ he said nastily.

  Felix flinched. A woman’s face, topped by hair so pale as to be almost white, floated to the surface of his mind. Angrily, he forced it aside. ‘Not in the least. And I wasn’t running from you! I was kidnapped.’ It was a lie, but one he hoped the Slayer wouldn’t question. After all, he hadn’t known that Gotrek was alive, had he?

  ‘A likely story, manling,’ Gotrek sneered. He looked around and spat. ‘Is it true? Did you kidnap my poet?’

  ‘What?’ Steyr said, staring at the dwarf. All of the vampires were seemingly frozen in shock, uncertain as to how to react to the invader. Gotrek had that effect on people, Felix knew. He’d seen the Slayer send daemons packing through sheer force of his unremittingly hostile personality. Meeting Gotrek’s eye was like staring into the eye of a building storm, or watching the fuse of an explosive burn down to its inevitable conclusion. Even creatures as steeped in violence as vampires hesitated before the fury of a Slayer, who was violence personified.

  ‘Did. You. Kidnap. My. Poet?’ Gotrek said, enunciating each word with the same precision he‘d have used to throw a punch. ‘Even a blood-drinking bat-fondler should be able to understand a question as simple as that.’

  ‘Somebody get h
im!’ Steyr roared, gesturing wildly.

  Gregory bellowed and flung himself on the Slayer. Gotrek cackled happily and pivoted far more swiftly than his bulk implied he could to drive a scar-knotted fist into the vampire’s face. Gregory’s nose exploded with a sound like a cannon going off, and the vampire went head over heels. Gotrek whirled back around, his axe spinning in his grip. ‘It’s been too long since I collected a necklace of dead men’s fangs. Come on then. Come to Gotrek, leeches!’

  With a roar, vampires spilled towards the Slayer. Gotrek peered up at the wave of cold, dead flesh that threatened to engulf him and gave a tiger’s grin. Then his rune-axe licked out and black blood stained the wet air. The Slayer laughed wildly as his axe tore the guts out of one vampire and then snapped back to behead a second. Individually the creatures might have stood a chance, but in a group they were more of a hindrance to each other than Gotrek. The Slayer waded into them with an enthusiasm that was as terrifying in its own way as the vampires’ savagery.

  Gotrek’s arrival had bought Felix a few moments to breathe, but not much more than that. Pieter was not one to be easily distracted, and the slim vampire stalked towards him. ‘Who is he, then? A dwarf, is he? How do you know a dwarf?’ Pieter hissed, with eerie sincerity, even as he probed Felix’s defences. The vampire reminded him of an overly curious child. Pieter sprang at him, and his blade skidded off Felix’s own, the point tracing a gouge across Felix’s cheek. Felix yelped and beat aside Pieter’s blade, and then, with a lunge that was more desperate than skilful, he rammed his sword into the vampire’s side. Pieter screeched and the pommel of his sword crashed down on Felix’s head, flattening him. He tore Karaghul loose as he fell. Dazed and bleary-eyed, he rolled aside as Pieter attempted to stamp on his head. His skull felt like a cracked egg and he felt sick. Pieter chased after him as he scrambled away, still on the ground.

  Pieter’s hand snapped out and he caught a handful of Felix’s chainshirt and jerked him from the ground. The vampire’s face had become a mask of feral fury. The human façade that hid the monster within had melted away, revealing a cadaverous beast-face. His mouth opened wide, exposing the thicket of fangs that clustered about his piebald gums. Felix smashed Karaghul’s pommel into Pieter’s maw, shattering fangs. The vampire dropped him and staggered back, clutching at his wounded mouth. Felix reacted swiftly and his sword swung out, catching the vampire in the shins. Pieter screamed and fell as Felix cut his legs out from under him.

  ‘Bad form, neighbour,’ Steyr said, as Felix got to his feet. He leapt over his wounded brother and forced Felix back. ‘I’m perfectly willing to forgive and forget, but you’re making it quite difficult to remain civilised about all of this.’

  ‘Funny words coming from a night-crawling corpse,’ Gotrek said, from behind Steyr. The Slayer had bulled through the other vampires, and he stomped towards Steyr, picking up speed as he came. Gotrek launched himself at the vampire, rising from the ground as if shot out of a cannon. Steel screeched as Steyr’s sword met Gotrek’s axe. The former splintered into glittering shards and the axe continued down unhindered, chopping into the vampire’s breastbone with a sound that made Felix wince in involuntary sympathy. Steyr dropped without a sound. Gotrek jerked his axe free and spun, just in time to meet another vampire’s shrieking charge. His axe carved a red path through the vampire‘s face, removing its bottom jaw and shattering its neck. The body tumbled aside to crash down in a heap.

  ‘Is that it, then?’ Gotrek said, shaking the sour blood from his axe. He eyed the remaining vampires with disdain. ‘Pah, these southern vampires are soft indeed. It’s like fighting melons.’

  ‘Yes, blood-drinking melons,’ Felix wheezed, ‘with teeth and claws.’

  Gotrek laughed harshly and hefted his axe. ‘Come on then, who wants to be next?’ he shouted, making a ‘come-hither’ gesture to the remaining vampires.

  Gregory, who’d regained his feet, pushed his way through the others. His eyes bulged from the sockets and were the colour of fresh blood. Felix wondered whether that was from the force of Gotrek’s punch, or whether it was simply a physical embodiment of the vampire’s state of mind. The big vampire threw back his head, bent his arms and expelled a bone-rattling howl into the air.

  ‘Yap all you like, blood-drinker!’ Gotrek said. ‘I care not.’ Felix heard a sound from the buildings behind them. He turned and saw white faces creeping from the shadows.

  Of course, he thought in resignation. How many shipwrecked crews had they preyed on, how many travellers had they lured to their side since Mangrove Port had perished in fire and blood? How else had Steyr planned to sail those ships, except with a crew of blood-hungry vampires? How many slumbering creatures lurked on those ships in the shallow waters of the quay? ‘Gotrek,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t bother me, manling, I’ve got vampires to kill.’

  ‘Yes, yes we do,’ Felix said. ‘Gotrek, we’re surrounded.’

  ‘Eh?’ Gotrek glanced over his shoulder and his eye narrowed. ‘Hunh,’ he grunted. ‘That’s more blood-drinkers than I’ve ever seen in one place. I’ve never known them to congregate in groups this size.’

  A rattling laugh greeted Gotrek’s comment. Steyr, one hand clutched to the wound in his chest, had shoved himself to his feet. The vampire spat blood and laughed again. ‘It’s a bit like herding particularly smelly, stupid cats, I admit, but I’m nothing if not persistent, master dwarf.’ He grinned through the mask of blood that marred his face. ‘My brothers and I grew up in the gutters of Altdorf. We struggled with dogs for food and waged wars for a bit of bread. We fought our way across the world to get to this point.’

  ‘Must be disappointing for you,’ Gotrek spat.

  Steyr hissed. So too did Gregory, who loped towards them, and Pieter, who squirmed across the ground like a snake, hauling himself along as his legs healed. ‘Mockery from a one-eyed ape is no sort of mockery,’ Steyr said. His eyes flickered to Felix. ‘One last chance, Felix – submit, and I will give you eternity. Or die, and be meat for my beasts. I hope you’ll choose the former, neighbour. I truly wish to discuss Sierck’s To My Unchanging Lady with someone who can fully appreciate his grasp of sonnet construction.’

  ‘Go to hell,’ Felix said.

  ‘Eloquent, if disappointing,’ Steyr said. He straightened and pulled his hand away from his wound. ‘Quite a nasty bite your axe has, master dwarf. I’ll enjoy sinking it in a mudhole somewhere.’

  ‘I want it,’ Gregory growled, his fingers opening and closing. ‘He destroyed my blade. I’ll have his axe, it’s only fair.’

  ‘We’ll discuss who gets what after the fact,’ Steyr said. ‘Dibs on Felix’s sword, though.’ Steyr’s eyes glittered nastily. He raised a clawed hand. ‘Goodbye, Felix.’

  Gotrek readied himself. Felix looked about wildly. ‘Gotrek, if we head for the water, we might be able to get to a boat.’

  ‘No,’ Gotrek grumbled.

  ‘Gotrek, this isn’t exactly the sort of death I had in mind for either of us!’

  ‘But it’s the death that’s available, manling,’ Gotrek said. The Slayer licked his lips. ‘It’s the death I came looking for. It’s a good death.’

  Desperate, Felix said, ‘Is it? And even so, who’ll write of it for you?’

  Gotrek blinked. ‘Eh?’

  ‘If I’m gutted and sucked dry by these beasts, who is going to write of your glorious death?’ Felix said quickly. He slashed at an overeager vampire, driving the creature back. ‘Because it won’t be me,’ he added.

  ‘I’d be happy to do it,’ Steyr said amiably as he approached, arms spread. ‘I’ve always fancied trying my hand at a bit of verse.’

  Gotrek’s eye narrowed. Felix felt a spurt of panic. ‘You can’t actually be considering that, can you?’ he yelped.

  After a long moment, Gotrek said, ‘Of course not, manling. I was merely considering the best way to take his head off.’ />
  ‘Quickly, would be my suggestion,’ Felix said.

  The vampires were closing in all around them. Felix turned, trying to keep the ones approaching from the ships and the quay in sight. He and Gotrek stood back to back as the ring of dead faces closed in.

  I’m going to die here, he thought. Death, in the abstract, didn’t hold as much terror for him as it once had. It was just the bloody unfairness of it all. To die here, like this, after all he’d seen and done. It was like the cruel punch line to a dark, cosmic joke. ‘Ha,’ Gotrek grunted, lifting his axe. ‘Come on, then. What are you waiting for, maggots? My axe is thirsty, and I have been alive too long. Hurry up and gather your courage.’ Then, more loudly, ‘Hurry!’

  The vampires struck as one. To Felix, it was as if they were in the eye of a hurricane, composed of claws and teeth and snarling curses. He slashed wildly, and spat the vilest oaths he could muster into the rows of champing, snapping fangs that sought his flesh.

  Claws tore at his clothing and snagged in his mail. He heard Gotrek roaring out a dwarf war-hymn, and felt the hot rain of blood that the Slayer was spreading with abandon. Bodies fell only to rise, staggering, and fall again. Vampires took more killing than most of their opponents had, and Gotrek was forced to chop and hew at the same ones again and again. Felix stabbed and slashed and thrust, but to no avail. The dead kept coming, their eyes gleaming with blood-greed and the air hot with their panting.

  They would eventually pull the Slayer down, Felix knew, no matter his skill or deadliness. They would bury Gotrek in a tomb of their own carcasses if that was what it took to bring him down.

  Felix stepped on a squirming body and slipped, falling backwards. The vampires pounced, and he flailed. He had no breath to call for help, and no leverage to get to his feet. Fangs sought his throat and he clawed vainly at a wet scalp, trying to halt the inevitable.

  A shadow fell over him. Not that of a vampire. Detached, rendered numb by the nearness of death, he looked up, expecting to see the cowled and cloaked shape of Morr, the god of death, come to collect him at last. Instead, he saw a different sort of death.