02 - Taint of Evil (44 page)

“Quite a haul,” Stefan observed.

The bounty hunter glanced at Stefan, and frowned. “I know what you’re
thinking,” he said. “Dirty, plundering thief, eh?”

“There might have been a time when I’d have thought that,” Stefan conceded.
“But I’m in no hurry to rush judgement anymore.”

“Well, it’s all honestly come by,” Lothar said. “From those rich enough and
dead enough not to care, either.” He grunted, and peered at Stefan. “What about
you?” he asked. “Did you find your tattooed friend?”

“Yes,” Stefan said. “I found him.”

“And the gold band?” Lothar asked. For a brief moment a gleam came into his
eye. “Did you find that?”

“If I had, I wouldn’t offer it to you,” Stefan said.

Lothar pondered a while then laughed, softly. “You know, I’m not so sure I’d
want it anymore, either. There are some prizes where the price is just too
high.”

“That there are,” Stefan agreed.

Lothar Koenig hefted the sack up upon his back once more. “Well,” he said.
“I’d best be going.”

Stefan held out his hand to the bounty hunter. “Then go safely,” he said. “May
you live and prosper.”

* * *

Stefan stood at Bea’s side. As he watched the bounty hunter disappear into
the distance, his mind was very much on Alexei Zucharov.

“He understood about your power, didn’t he?” he said to Bea at last. “Zucharov,
I mean. That’s why he wanted you at the lake. He meant to channel the power of
the waters through you.”

Bea nodded. “Not something I want to think too much about,” she said.

“But—” Stefan hesitated, “if he had succeeded…”

Bea shrugged. “We must thank the gods that he didn’t,” she said.

“Thank them with all our hearts,” Stefan affirmed. “Truly, it’s for the good
that the waters have drained away,” he added. “Let us hope they lie deep, far
from all temptation.”

Bea shivered, and drew her shawl about her. “It’s growing cold,” she said.

Stefan looked at the sky. The clouds above had formed a shield of leaden
grey. The first few snowflakes were starting to fall, soft upon the chill ruins
of the citadel. “Kaldezeit is upon us,” he reflected. “The cruel season, the
season of death.”

“Without death there can be no renewal,” Bea reminded him. “We will take what
fortune the seasons bring.”

“Life here will be hard, Bea. Whatever happens.”

“Life will be hard for us all,” Bea replied. “I do not think the road you
travel will be the easier.”

“No,” Stefan agreed. “I don’t suppose that it will.”

“I must go to my work,” Bea said. “The people of Sigmarsgeist need me now as
never before.”

“Yes,” Stefan agreed. “You must go, and I must go too. If Bruno is able, we’ll
ride from here before dusk. We have a journey of many weeks still ahead of us.”

“Back to Altdorf?”

“To Altdorf. A homecoming long overdue.”

A silence fell between them, then Bea leant forward and kissed Stefan lightly
upon the cheek. “Go with all my blessings,” she said to him. “And may Shallya
attend you all your days.”

Stefan took her hand in his, and stood facing her for a few moments longer.
Then he turned, and began the journey that would lead him home.

Bea waited until Stefan had gone, his words all the while ringing like a
warning inside her head. She whispered a prayer for Stefan’s fortune, and for
Bruno’s, too. She prayed that his heart, like his body, would be healed in the
fullness of time. She opened her left hand again, and looked upon the locket,
the image of Shallya gazing up at her.

Then she opened her right hand, and looked down at the tiny vial resting in
her palm. So small, yet so precious. The last few drops, taken from the lake of
Tal Dur, before the waters were lost forever. Such a tiny amount. It could do no
harm, she told herself. Surely, it could only be for the good.

She lifted the vial and held it to her face. The glass felt cool against her
skin. It was the right thing to do. With the healing powers of the water, who
knew what might not be achieved? Sigmarsgeist could be built anew, and her
people made whole and strong, free once more of all sickness and pain.

It could surely do no harm, could not be anything but for the good.
Sigmarsgeist would rise again, and she, Bea, would be there to lead its people
from the darkness back into the light.

She would be their inspiration. She would be their Guide.

Neil McIntosh
was born in Sussex in 1957 and currently lives in
Brighton. He has contributed stories for the Warhammer anthologies,
White Dwarf
and other magazines, as well as writing for radio. Following a lengthy sabbatical,
he returned to writing fiction in 2000 with two stories for
Inferno!
magazine.
Taint of Evil
is his second novel.

Scanning, formatting and basic
proofing by Undead.