The Dragon Engine (30 page)

“Is he dangerous?” asked Talon.

Skalg looked at him. “Not dangerous enough to dodge one of Talon's shafts,” he smiled. “And yes. I do know how good you are, one-time Chief Protector of the Queen. So then?” His eyes scanned the group. “Do we have a deal? I will provide maps of the mines and the city. Before you set off. Just so you know I am not trying to dupe you.”

“One kill?” said Dake. “To get out of this hell? Count me in.”

“It is immoral,” said Lillith, voice gentle.

“Then immoral it is,” rumbled Beetrax. “Now take off these shackles.”

“When we leave the mines,” said Skalg, standing. “After all, one has to keep up appearances in front of the other slaves. We wouldn't like a riot now, would we?”

T
he journey
by chain-pulled carriage was a blur of junctions, intersections and scowling dwarves, all bearing axes and war hammers. They glared at the southerners, until one look from Skalg made them turn away. The Church of Hate was bad news for those who did not know their manners.

Beetrax nudged Talon, as they rattled along in the carriage. “You all right, Tal?”

“I've felt better.”

“But now there is hope.”

“A little.” He smiled, but it was without humour.

“Fuck me, your cup is always half empty, isn't it?”

“Only since we arrived here, Axeman. Lillith? I beseech thee. Tell this oaf to leave me be. I have a lot to consider.”

Lillith smiled, and shuffled closer to Beetrax, then leaning sideways she put her head against his shoulder. “How are you, Trax?”

“Better, now we have a fighting chance.”

“In all honesty, my love, I wouldn't say we have a fighting chance. One of the other slaves told me there are ninety
thousand
dwarves living down here. That's a lot of killing to get through.”

“Providing Skalg doesn't live up to his promise.”

“And you think he will?”

“He'd better, or I'll skin the fucker.”

Lillith sighed. “Always so savage, Beetrax.” And tears ran down her face, and he held her, and he wanted to ask her,
hey, what happened to you with that bastard dwarf Val
? But he knew it was bad, and he knew it was sexual, and he did not have the heart to punish her further by making her live through it by recounting the tale. All he knew was that one day, even if it took a hundred years, he'd find Val and execute him. And so he sat there in the rumbling carriage, with the clanking chains and the smell of hot oil, watching jagged rock sliding past, and he could feel Lillith's warmth and now, at this moment in time, he was simply glad they were alive, glad they were together, and happy they could share a little warmth, no matter how fleeting.

Sakora sat, her fingers still tracing the scars on her arms, breast and face where she'd felt the kiss of the torturer's blade. She had fallen into a well of despondency but knew one thing – she still wanted to live. And if that meant executing one – ten – or ten
thousand
fucking dwarves, she would happily wield the blade. Fuck honour. Fuck the code of the Kaaleesh. She was done with honour, nobility, and everything else in the world. These bastards had carved her flesh, taken her looks, taken her face. She felt vanity bite her like a dark drug, and realised how pathetic she must sound; but she could not help herself.

Talon's hand moved, and rested on hers. Chains clanked, and there was a
jolt
as they changed at a junction.

“I won't ask you how you are, I'll only point out that if things work out, I'll always be there for you.”

Sakora glanced up at Talon, tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. And then, in a small voice, “But what I fear the most, and this is terrible, is I fear stepping out amongst the public again. People will stare at me, and people will laugh…”

“Laugh at what?”” said Talon, eyes filled with innocence.

“At my scars,” she said.

“We all carry scars,” said Talon. “Some on our flesh, some in our hearts. What matters is how we show strength in the face of adversity. Let them laugh! Because I fucking know how beautiful you are, with or without scars.”

“I cannot stand to be mocked,” she said, in a small voice. “I fear it will break me.”

“Anybody who mocks you will get a shaft in the throat. That, I promise you, my princess.”

“Princess?”

“Of course a princess, yes. Of the heart and the soul, but also of the flesh.”

“They cut up my face, Talon, or are you blind to that?”

Talon moved close, and smiled, and kissed her, a long lingering kiss on her badly scarred lips. “You are as beautiful to me now as you ever were,” he said.

J
onti Tal rode
the carriage in silence for a long while, being jolted by the bumps and turns and joints in the track. Eventually, Dake took both her hands and looked into her eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“I am thinking we left Jael behind. He deserved more.”

“Better he stays there, I'm thinking. Me and Beetrax already had this conversation…”

“And the fat bastard thought it best to leave Jael behind, didn't he? Oh what an amazing fucking surprise!”

“No. Actually. Trax said we were going into the jaws of death, and it would be very dangerous, with a possibility none of us would return. He said Jael was safer in the mines for now, and that when we were done, on our way out of this place, we would rescue him.”

Jonti considered this. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“He
really
said that, and you're not just covering for him?”

Dake remembered Beetrax's words.
The spineless, useless little worm. Better he stays here, like a big fucking girl, and let us real men do the fucking killing, and get the killing done. And then I suppose we'll have to swing back this way to pick up the little prick? Yeah. I know we will. Well, let's hope nobody gets killed doing it, eh lad?

“Of course he said that. Beetrax is a man of honour! And I would never lie to you, never misrepresent him…”

“Hmm,” said Jonti, frowning.

“On another note, what do you think our chances are? Of killing this king? Of escaping? Of surviving?”

“Slim to none,” smiled Jonti, then squeezed Dake's hand. “But if we die, I know I will be dying by your side. I know your love is strong and true. And in all honesty? I am proud to have been your wife. I will be proud to die with you.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“And you, my love, for all our years of joy. I never could have imagined a nobler partner. I never could have imagined a better man to spend my days with. You are my lodestone, my rock, my anchor. I am sure we will live together for an eternity in the afterlife.”

Dake hugged her, and they continued the rattling journey in silence.

T
he carriage station was dark
, filled with low iron buildings, and dimly lit by a single flickering fire-bowl as first the Educators disembarked, then Skalg, and finally his still-shackled “prisoners”.

“This way,” Skalg said, wincing in pain as he limped forward, setting a slow pace. The Educators flanked him, an armour of flesh and iron.

The Vagandrak heroes followed, shackled, growing increasingly annoyed as they moved down a cobbled street, until Beetrax bellowed, “Oy, cunt!” and everybody stopped. First Cardinal Skalg turned and stared at Beetrax, who grinned at him. “Yes, you, cunt. Unlock these shackles right fucking now. We'll not walk through these streets as slaves. Understand, laddie?”

Skalg considered Beetrax. The Educators seemed to shrink back, their faces changing. After all –
nobody
spoke to the First Cardinal of the Church of Hate in such a way. To do so was to die. Horribly.

Skalg's face remained beautifully neutral. Inside, however, watch cogs were spinning faster than fast.
There is a bigger game here. A much bigger picture.
His eyes narrowed a little.
The humans must be used to maximum effect; here and now, I have no church rank, no church authority. Despite the years of struggle, despite my badges of rank, they count for nothing. For this is all about the final destination.

Skalg nodded to Danda, who moved amongst the prisoners, undoing shackles which clattered and rattled and slithered to the cold cobbles.

“Good,” breathed Beetrax, rubbing his injured wrists. “Now then. Take us to the weapons because we've got some killing to do.”

Skalg nodded, face still impassive, and they moved through dark streets, quiet streets. Distantly, the glow of burning buildings destroyed the image of peacefulness. Distantly, the occasional scream or clash of steel on steel disturbed the tranquillity of the night.

They moved on, the Educators looking over their shoulders often. Skalg, to his very great credit, did not look back once.

They saw nobody, although the sounds of battle and slaughter and fire grew ever closer, a symphony of clashes, screams, wails and gurgles; and they arrived at a church, a huge black towering grotesque thing, with iron spikes and spires and corrugated doors and windows more like prison shutters than the portals to a house of worship.

Skalg used a large iron key, and threw open the doors, striding forward.

“Oh, you are not allowed in here…” came an enfeebled, effeminate voice, which then spluttered into silence. Heated words. Skalg was not nice. A priest came running out, black and purple robes flapping around his sandaled feet as he sped down the cobbles, looking over his shoulder, beard flowing in the slipstream.

Skalg appeared, twisted, face showing pain. He stared at the Vagandrak warriors one by one by one, then smiled, and said, “In here.”

They followed.

They walked down a black aisle, towards a black altar. The silence was awesome. As if the gods, and the mountain, and the Great Dwarf Lords had nothing left to say. Great hollow peace surrounded them. To Dake, it sounded like the end of worlds. To Beetrax, it sounded like the end of war. To Lillith, it sounded like the end of all civilisation, and made tears stream down her cheeks.

Skalg moved to a small black iron door beside the altar filled with religious iconography, and produced yet another key. He fumbled for a moment, unlocked the door, and led them down two hundred narrow spiral stone steps into the bowels of the church, into the tomb of the mountain.

They emerged in a surprisingly bright room. Fires burned in fire-bowls connected to the pipes of the Dragon Engine. Beetrax gasped, and Talon pursed his lips. Lillith sighed and Sakora made a grunting sound, not unlike pleasure.

They were in an armoury. A secret armoury.

“Take what you require,” said Skalg, gesturing.

Beetrax strode forward, hoisting down a massive, double-headed battle-axe. He swept it with pendulum strokes, then glared at Skalg, his confidence returning a little. “What is this place, cripple?”

Skalg's eyes bulged for a moment. “Cripple? Really?”

“You have a crushed, twisted, hunched back. You are crippled, are you not?”

“One deems it impolite to mention such things,” said Skalg, words soft.

“I'm done with fucking pleasantries in the world of my enemies,” growled Beetrax, knuckles whitening.

Danda took a step forward, but Skalg held up a hand.

“It's all right, Danda.”

“Yes,” mimicked Beetrax, “it's all right, Danda. Stay back there, lest I split you from stupid fucking skull to your woman's cunt. Straight through the middle.
Slit
. Like a hot knife through pig lard.”

“Beetrax!” snapped Dake, and punched Beetrax in the chest. He came in close. “Shut the
fuck up
and let's get the job done. Right?”

“Sorry, Dake,” mumbled Beetrax, then looked over Dake's shoulder to Danda. “Sorry, mate! Didn't mean you, like, had a cunt, nor nuffink. Or you were a cunt. Nor were soft as a cunt. You get what I'm saying?”

Danda growled.

“Stand down… in fact, get the fuck out,” snapped Skalg, and gestured to all the Educators, who made a wary retreat. Skalg was left alone with the men and women of the south. The men and women who had been tortured by the dwarves without provocation.

Beetrax breathed slowly through his nose.

Talon surveyed the lightly armed cardinal.

Sakora opened her eyes and licked wet lips.

“This is the deal, this is the mission, this is the
concept
which will not only keep you alive, but which will see you free of this city. That's what you want more than anything, right? To be free of the Five Havens? To never see another fucking dwarf as long as you live?”

“I'll second that,” said Talon.

“Although I'd like to decapitate a few thousand,” growled Beetrax.

“Take what you need,” said Skalg, unperturbed. “King Irlax resides in the Palace of Iron. He has his guards, but they will not be suspecting an attack of any sort
now.
He has great hounds, half-blind, and they love the scent of non-dwarf meat. Have been bred for it, in fact. Raised on it. Human blood,
your blood
, runs in their teeth and in their veins. They yelp for it.” Skalg seemed to take control of himself. “Danda will take you to the gates. Then you're on your own. You will know Irlax. He will be enthroned and bitter and screaming. When you have done the deed, return to Danda – I will have delivered maps and special keys to him. The keys will provide you access to various
special places
that in turn will allow you to leave this city. Forever.”

They stared at him.

“Do we still have a deal?”

“Why do you want Irlax dead?” said Jonti, a strange look on her face.

“Tax rebates? Religious differences? Because I want to fuck his niece? Does it matter? One death and you have the means to escape your little group version of hell. I think that's a pretty good deal. I think that's a once-in-a-fucking-
lifetime
chance for a group of stupid blundering fortune-seeking bastards who were about to be fed to the Dragon Engine, minus teeth and knee joints.”