William King - Stealer of Flesh

“I came to ask your decision,” Lord Tomas said. He looked from Kormak to his wife. “I heard you…talking to my wife.”

Kormak said nothing. There was nothing to say. He could tell that behind his cold facade, Lord Tomas was incandescent with rage. He glanced at Wesley and his men at arms who studiously kept their faces blank, to avoid admitting they had noticed his humiliation.

“Take Sir Kormak to the dungeon,” he said. He strode forward and grasped Kathea roughly with the arm.

“You and I will have words, wife,” he said.

The guards surrounded Kormak, weapons drawn. There was nothing he could do except throw himself on their blades and he doubted that would do anybody much good.

Wesley tossed him his clothing. There was a smirk on his face now that the eyes of Lord Tomas were no longer upon him. “I think Lord Tomas has decided he no longer has need of your services.”

The cell was cold and damp and the bars were strong. Kormak had tested them and they resisted his strength. He cursed his own stupidity and the weakness that illness had brought. Somewhere in the mansion, a conspiracy of maniacs were going to unleash a demon, and he doubted that any of them had any real idea of what that meant. Kormak was not sure that even he did. No one had encountered a Ghul in hundreds of years since the Guardian Malos had hunted down the last of them. It had left a trail of death and mayhem hundreds of leagues long once it had been uncovered.

He grabbed the bars again and shook them but they would not give. One of the guards said, “That won’t do you much good. Man can’t bend iron that thick. Believe me.”

It was Marcus, the guard who had been there when Tarsus first treated him. There were three other men sitting at the table, playing cards.

“Your master is going to unleash a demon,” Kormak said.

“He told me you were suffering from delusions,” said the guard, “and needed to be restrained for your own good till you got better. I can see he wasn’t wrong.”

Kormak studied the man. He had keys on his belt. If he could lure him close enough he might be able to knock the man out and get the keys and free himself. And then he would only need to overcome three armed men, he thought sourly. After that he would find Lord Tomas and then what, he asked himself? The ritual would be guarded. Lord Tomas had clearly thought things out. Still, he would worry about that after he was free. He considered faking illness but he doubted that would put the jailor within reach.

These were cautious men and strong. He was not going to be able to fight his way out of here.

There was a sound of knocking from the door at the head of the stairs leading down into the cells. The jailor walked over and looked out through a slot. He said something and nodded and opened the door. Kormak looked up and saw the wizard Tarsus. The old man limped down the stairs, walked over to the table where the guards sat and helped himself to some of their wine. None of them objected. He seemed to have some trouble fumbling the stopper back on the jug. It took him some time to get in place then he came over to the cell door and looked at Kormak.

“You could have handled this better,” said Tarsus. His tones were very low.

“Have you come to gloat?” Kormak asked.

“No,” he said.

“Shouldn’t you be helping Lord Tomas free the Ghul?”

“I should be but I am not. I told him I was too sick.”

“Why did you come here?” Kormak asked.

“I came to help you,” Tarsus said. “It was one thing to talk about unleashing the Ghul when it was just a theoretical possibility. It is a different thing entirely since I have held the amphora in my hands. I can feel the evil in the thing. I want no part in setting it free.”

“Not even if it can help you stave off death?” Kormak asked.

“I doubt it can do that now. There is not enough time left for me to learn its secrets and even if there was, I am not sure I would seek immortality at such cost.”

“But you thought differently once.”

“Like I said, contemplating a thing in theory is different from putting it into practise. And I am old and tired and I will rest in my grave.” He coughed again and more blood came up. “I have not found life so much to my taste that I look forward to prolonging it.”

“How can you help me?” Kormak asked.

Tarsus glanced over at the jailors. They lay slumped over the table, heads down, exceedingly drowsy. Tarsus walked over to the head jailor and took the keys.

“Why are you doing this?” Kormak asked.

“I am a man no worse and no better than yourself, Sir Kormak. I do not want to see that demon unleashed and I believe that between us, we might stop that from happening.”

“I am still not entirely sure I can trust you.”

The wizard unlocked the cell. “Well, when you make up your mind, perhaps you will follow me to Lord Tomas’s vault. I suspect I will prove slightly less impressive with a blade than you but I’ll do what I can.”

Kormak pushed the door of the cell. It swung open. He stepped through warily. Tarsus had already turned his back and was limping over to the stairs. He did not seem to care that Kormak was in a position to bludgeon him down. Kormak walked over to the jailors. They were still breathing. He helped himself to one of their blades and their heavy leather jerkins. It would do no harm to have a disguise as they moved through the manor house.

“They are not dead,” said Tarsus. “It was just a sleeping powder added to their wine. I used to play chess with Marcus. I rather like him.”

“Any treachery, wizard, and I’ll cut you down.”

“Then how will you find your way to the Sanctum? Ask the guards?”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“I find one of the few good things about old age is that it’s given me enough experience to cover most situations.”

“There’s no need to sound so smug about it.”

“I take my pleasures where I can find them.”

“Is that another piece of wisdom that occurred to you in your decrepitude?”

“You’ll be old too one day, Guardian, if you are lucky. I hope you encounter another soul as miserable as yourself then.”

“Well, you’ve given me some answers for them, haven’t you?”

“Glad to be of service.”

Tarsus hobbled up the stairs; Kormak followed him out into the huge ancient manor. It was dark and cold and the wind howled.

They moved across the courtyard and for the first time Kormak got a really good look at the outside of the manor. It was massive, an ancient palace that sprawled across the hilltop. Most of it had a half-ruined look to it, was covered in winter ivy and other creepers. There was a fountain in the courtyard with no water in it. The central statue was of a mermaid with dragon-spines running down her back. It was an odd thing to see so far from the sea.

“They are in the crypts below the mansion,” Tarsus said. “Lord Tomas is going to perform the ritual.”

“Why are you not there? Won’t they suspect something?”

“I told them I was too ill to take part. It was not hard to make them believe that.”

Suspicion stabbed at Kormak again. He wondered whether he was being led into some sort of complex trap. He could not see how it would work when it would have been easy enough for Lord Tomas to have him trussed up and brought to the catacombs. That did not mean it was not possible though. He had known of Old Ones who liked to play strange games with the minds of their victims. Perhaps these men were like that.

Tarsus picked an archway in the side of one tumbled down building. There were strange signs carved into the stonework of the lintel. They resembled no Elder Sign that Kormak knew of.