The Thousand Names Part 56

"We picked 'em back up again," Graff said. "That's every man who wasn't already dead out the door. Except the captain and the colonel, poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

The captain and the colonel. "Right." Winter waved him on up the corridor. "Go. I'll be right behind."

Graff saluted and hurried after the rest. Winter and Feor remained in the doorway.

The green lights went out all at once. The corpses toppled wherever they stood, sprawling in heaps across the flagstones. Here and there flame still clung to them, filling the air with the smell of burning cloth and flesh.

The captain and the colonel. She'd almost forgotten about them. But they must be dead. They weren't in the square, so they must be dead.

"f.u.c.k," Winter said. "f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k."

She chewed her lip for a long moment, then rounded angrily on Feor. "You'd better go after-"

"I'm going with you," Feor said.

"No, you are-" Winter caught Feor's expression and suddenly felt too tired to argue. "All right. But stay close."

Feor stepped up and took her hand again. Winter raised the torch over her head, took a deep breath, and hurried back into the gloom.

MARCUS.

Marcus gave a grunt as he wrenched his saber free, stepping away from the demon's still-scrabbling hands. His next carefully aimed stroke split its skull, sending up a torrent of white smoke. Then he retreated to where Ja.n.u.s waited in the shadow of one of the twisted statues. The thing kept thras.h.i.+ng behind him, but without a head it was blind.

"We're almost there," Ja.n.u.s said, tapping the corner of the statue's plinth with the tip of his sword. "Two more, I think."

"f.u.c.king saints," Marcus said. "How many men did Khtoba have left?"

He knew objectively that they'd been lucky. Some of the Seventh Company had managed to form a square after all, and they were attracting the attention of the vast majority of the creatures. Picking their way around the edge of the vast cavern, he and Ja.n.u.s had to deal with only the scattered remnants, and he'd disposed of a dozen or so of those. But it felt like they'd been at it forever. He'd opened his jacket, his unders.h.i.+rt was soaked with sweat, and someone seemed to have added several tons of lead to his sword. His shoulder ached abominably from the impact of steel on bone, and the bite on his hand throbbed.

At least the colonel knew where he was going. Or he says he does, anyway. They'd been weaving through the statues, cutting down the demons singly or in pairs, but Ja.n.u.s had kept to a relatively constant direction. Marcus hadn't asked where they were going, because he frankly didn't want to know. He just hoped like h.e.l.l the colonel had some kind of plan.

"Two," Marcus said after a moment. "Okay."

"I'll go right; you go left," Ja.n.u.s said. He didn't even seem winded. "Ready?"

"Ready," Marcus lied.

"Go!"

They spun around opposite sides of the statue. Two of the green-eyed creatures stood in the gap between another pair of idols, as idly as a couple of sentries. They looked up, mouths opening to trickle white smoke, as the two officers charged.

Ja.n.u.s' first instinct had been the correct one. As usual. Nothing Marcus had been able to do had put an end to the creatures' scrabbling parody of life, but their bodies could be damaged as easily as any human's. A good hit to the legs would leave them nothing to do but crawl. He ducked and aimed low, swinging the heavy cavalry saber in two hands like a sledgehammer. The demon's outstretched hands brushed past his cheek and over his shoulder, while his blow caught the thing on the knee. Flesh and bone exploded, bloodless as rotten wood, and Marcus spun away from the clutching fingers as the suddenly unbalanced monster toppled.

The colonel had dissected his opponent with typical grace, dodging its clumsy lunge and dancing behind it to neatly sever the muscles in its thighs with his lighter blade. It fell facedown, and Marcus gave it a slash in pa.s.sing, smas.h.i.+ng its face into a ruin. Once they were down and blinded, the demons presented a danger only if you managed to step on one.

"There." Ja.n.u.s pointed with his sword. A small campfire burned up ahead, banked against the base of one of the statues and invisible from a distance. "Come on-we have to hurry."

He trotted toward it, and Marcus heaved a deep breath and lumbered after him. Ja.n.u.s' reserve of strength seemed boundless, and keeping up with him made Marcus feel like a milk cow trying to race a warhorse.

The little half circle of firelight looked as though it had been someone's camp. A small sack and a waterskin were propped neatly against the statue, and a thick blanket was unrolled over the hard flagstones for use as a bed. Lying on the bed- At first Marcus thought it was a corpse. It looked more like a corpse than the green-eyed demons did. The young man's flesh was withered and shrunken, and his skin hung in loose folds from protruding bones. Ribs and hips were clearly visible, moving slowly under his gray skin like puppies squirming in a sack, and Marcus realized with a start the boy was still breathing in short, sharp gasps. His eyes were closed, but at the sound of the two Vordanai approaching they flickered open.

Ja.n.u.s crossed the flagstones to stand beside the boy in a few quick, sure strides, and flicked the point of his sword to hover just above the throat of the emaciated youth. He spoke in Khandarai, loud and clear enough that even Marcus could follow him.

"Call them off. Now."

A dozen pairs of green eyes turned to stare at them. Marcus raised his sword. The closest of the demons regarded him through the curtain of white smoke rising from its lips.

"Call them off," Ja.n.u.s said. "All of them, or I slit your throat."

The boy's mouth opened slowly. His voice was a thin rasp.

"I am dead already," he said.

A hollow boom echoed through the chamber, followed by two more in rapid succession. Marcus tried to see what was happening, but there were too many statues blocking the way. He could hear a tide of shouts rising above the hissing of the demons.

"Call them off," Ja.n.u.s said.

"He won't do it," said a woman's voice, also in Khandarai. "You should know better than to try to reason with fanatics, Colonel."

Jen Alhundt walked between two of the frozen demons, for all the world as if she hadn't noticed them. Her spectacles gleamed white in the light of the campfire. She held a pistol in one hand and had another thrust through her belt.

"Jen." Marcus' sword arm dropped slowly to his side. "Jen? What the h.e.l.l-"

"Miss Alhundt," Ja.n.u.s interrupted. "I take it you have a suggestion?"

"Only the obvious," Jen said. She leveled the pistol abruptly and pulled the trigger. The boy's body jerked and stiffened for a moment, blood blooming from his chest, and then sagged.

All across the vast cavern, the green lights went out. The corpses dropped into place with a final exhalation of white smoke, staggering drunkenly into one another or sagging against the statues. Silence fell throughout the vast cavern as the inhuman hiss of the demons finally quieted. Marcus couldn't hear the shouts of the Colonials anymore, either. He swallowed hard.

"Jen," Marcus said, trying to keep his voice calm, "what are you doing here?"

"She's doing her job as a member of the Concordat," Ja.n.u.s said. His gray eyes were fixed on Jen. "Completing her a.s.signment from the Last Duke."

"Her a.s.signment was just to observe," Marcus protested. It felt weak, even as he said it.

"It was to observe," Jen said, "unless circ.u.mstances warranted other action."

"And they do now?" Ja.n.u.s said.

"I believe so." She tossed the empty pistol aside, drew the other one from her belt, and pulled back the hammer. "Colonel Vhalnich, in the name of the king and the Ministry of Information, I place you under arrest."

a a a "Interesting," Ja.n.u.s said, after a long moment of silence.

"Drop your sword, if you please." Jen raised the pistol to a level with his chest.

The colonel shrugged and let the weapon fall. "May I ask the charge?"

"Heresy," Jen said. "And conspiracy against the Crown."

"I see." His expression was thoughtful. "His Grace may have difficulty making that case to a military court."

"That's not my affair," Jen said. "You're welcome to take it up with him once you return to Vordan."

"If I return. Much better for all concerned if I were to suffer a little accident during the crossing. Swept overboard in a storm, say. I'm sure an appropriate storm can be provided. Sea voyages are so dangerous."

She regarded him in stony silence. Ja.n.u.s sighed.

"I suppose it would be uncouth of me to mention that there are close to four thousand men outside who answer to my orders? I a.s.sume you have the appropriate paperwork tucked away somewhere, but they may not be inclined to examine it."

"The men will obey their commanders." Jen looked sidelong at Marcus. "Senior Captain d'Ivoire. I have a commission from the king and the Ministry to a.s.sume overall command of this expedition if I deem it necessary. As such, I am placing you in command of First Colonials. Your orders are to detain Colonel Vhalnich and return the regiment to Ashe-Katarion, where it will rendezvous with the transport fleet."

The formal language made Marcus draw himself up automatically, his aches and pains forgotten. He gritted his teeth. "Jen, you can't be serious. Heresy?"

"I believe you are aware of the colonel's interest in acquiring Khandarai relics. If you wish to label yourself an accessory, I am willing to expand the charges. No doubt Captain Kaanos would be willing to a.s.sume command."

"f.u.c.king saints." Marcus blew out a long breath. "You said you were a clerk. You were lying to me all this time."

"I neglected to tell you everything." Jen gave a slight shrug. "It comes with the job."

"Of course she was," Ja.n.u.s said. "She's Concordat, Captain. This is what she does."

"I'll thank you to be quiet," Jen snapped.

"Do you intend to shoot me?" Ja.n.u.s flashed a quick smile. "I doubt it, now that I think about it. The Last Duke needs to know what I know, doesn't he?"

"I intend to bring you to trial," Jen said, raising the pistol slightly. "If possible."

There was another silence.

"Jen . . . ," Marcus began.

"Don't do anything stupid, Marcus," she said. "Please. You don't know what you're dealing with."

"On the contrary," Ja.n.u.s said. "I think he finally understands."

"I'm not going to let you shoot him," Marcus said. "We'll go back to the camp, talk this over. I'm sure-"

A flicker of motion over Jen's shoulder was the only warning. Marcus dove forward, cannoning into her, and they both slid across the dusty flagstones to fetch up against the base of one of the statues. The pistol clattered and spun to a halt beside them. A silver blur hummed through the s.p.a.ce where Jen had been standing, hit one of the nearby statues, and bounced off with a single ringing note, sending stone chips flying. The long, curved dagger bounced twice more, leaping like a fish off the flagstones, before it finally clattered to a halt.

The young a.s.sa.s.sin Marcus had last seen in the colonel's quarters stepped between two of the statues. He had another dagger, which he tossed idly from hand to hand. Apart from a loose pair of shorts, he was naked, his shaved head gleaming with oil. His chest was striped with bright red welts, as though he'd been whipped.

Marcus didn't spare the time to think. He grabbed for the pistol, brought it up, and fired. The a.s.sa.s.sin didn't even break his stride, skipping gently to one side as if dancing, and Marcus heard the ball ping uselessly somewhere out in the darkness. He was already scrambling to his feet, clawing for the sword where he'd dropped it, as the young man advanced on him and Jen.

"Idiot," Jen said from behind him. "Get out of the way!"

She gave him a sideways shove, sending him stumbling drunkenly against a statue. The a.s.sa.s.sin whipped the other dagger at her, bright steel blurring into a line too fast to see. Jen brought her left hand up, fingers splayed, and something sparked in front of her like caged lightning. The knife glanced away as though it had struck a stone wall, and went ringing and clattering off into the cavern.

The young man's face clouded.

"You are abh-naathem," he said in Khandarai. "A minion of Orlanko. We have expected your coming."

Jen let out a long breath. A grin spread across her face, a savage joy that Marcus had never seen on her before. She let her arms dangle in front of her, fingers working like a violinist limbering up.

"You pestilential goat-f.u.c.kers," she said, in perfect Khandarai. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

"You think you are the first to come in search of the Names? We have held them for four thousand years."

"Until today." Jen brought one hand up and made a double circle over her chest, the traditional ward against evil. "Ahdon ivahnt vi, ignahta sempria."

He blurred into motion, covering the distance between them with the horrible, inhuman speed Marcus remembered from Ashe-Katarion. Jen's hand came up, palm out, and the Khandarai crashed into a wall of brilliant silver sparks just before he reached her. He'd been moving so fast he bounced, twisting nimbly in midair to land on his feet. His next attack was more circ.u.mspect, circling Jen and feinting a few jabs to test the limit of her defense. She faded backward, raising her right hand above her head.

The a.s.sa.s.sin guessed what was coming, or else had access to some sense that Marcus lacked, and he dove sideways as she brought her hand down. There was an enormous ripping sound, as though the air itself were being torn, and something flashed out from Jen in a vertical wave. It hit a statue behind where the Khandarai had been standing, a snake-headed thing with tree-trunk limbs, and cut it cleanly in half from top to bottom with a billow of dust. The separated pieces fell to the ground in a cacophony of shattering stone.

Demon. There was no doubt in Marcus' mind, not anymore. Ja.n.u.s had warned him the Concordat was after the Thousand Names, but he'd never mentioned anything like this.

He levered himself to his feet and looked around for the colonel. Ja.n.u.s was staring after Jen as she followed the retreating creature. He didn't seem surprised so much as in awe. That wasn't quite right, either, though. Marcus was reminded of the very first time he'd seen the man, holding up a venomous scorpion and watching it twist with the same raw admiration a patron of the arts might show for a masterpiece painting or symphony.

"The Panoply Invisible," he muttered. "Borracio said it pa.s.sed into Church hands, but . . ." He shook his head slowly. "I never thought to see such a thing."

"Sir," Marcus said. When Ja.n.u.s took no notice, he grabbed the colonel's arm. "Sir! We have to get out of here."

"What?" The deep gray eyes blinked and seemed to focus once again on the here and now. Another shower of sparks lit up the clouds of dust flowing away from the battle, accompanied by a screech like a gla.s.smaker's knife across a windowpane.

"Come on," Marcus said, tugging the colonel's arm.

Together they stumbled into motion, heading away from the little campsite and toward the center of the room, where the Seventh Company had made their stand. Ja.n.u.s soon recovered enough to set the pace, and before long Marcus was fighting for breath. Another of the tearing sounds sent them both diving for cover, and more statues exploded behind them.

"What is she?" Marcus wheezed, rolling over and putting his back to a stone plinth.

"Concordat," Ja.n.u.s said grimly. "But matters have gone further than I thought. I've underestimated Orlanko's allies."

"Is she really a demon?"

"Someone who has summoned and contracted one, yes. Ignahta sempria, the Penitent d.a.m.ned. She works for the Pontifex of the Black."

"There hasn't been a Pontifex of the Black for a hundred years!"

Ja.n.u.s gave him a grim look, but said nothing. Marcus risked a glance around the corner of the plinth. With the dust of ancient statues, the white gas from the corpses, and the powder smoke, the cavern was full of an unpleasant miasma that made it hard to see much. The air reeked of saltpeter and blood, mixed with the gritty taste of blasted masonry. He couldn't see either of the supernatural combatants at first. A curl of smoke off to his left disgorged Jen, peering around with an unsatisfied expression. She caught sight of Marcus at the same moment, before he could duck back, and an ugly smile spread across her face.

"I wondered where you'd gotten to," she said. "Marcus, if you sit down and wait quietly until all this is over, I guarantee things will go well for you afterward. I owe you that much, for everything we had."

"Everything we had?" Marcus used the plinth to pull himself to his feet, breathing hard. "You're not even human!"

"That depends on your point of view," she said. "But I'll spare you the metaphysics. Just step aside, please."

He gritted his teeth. "I won't."

"Idiot," Jen sighed. She raised her right hand- The a.s.sa.s.sin emerged from the smoke like a shark from the depths, hurtling horizontally at an incredible speed. Jen turned to meet him barely in time, and the wall of sparks flared between them. His bare feet sc.r.a.ped for purchase on the stone floor as he leaned against her with all his inhuman strength, fingers flexing to try to tear the intangible s.h.i.+eld that guarded her.