Spook's: The Dark Army Read online

  We continued to sit on our horses in silence. I watched the moon slowly rise above the trees, bathing us in its pale silvery light.

  Suddenly the prince turned and held out a small dagger towards me, hilt first. ‘Understand?’ he asked me in our language.

  I accepted the blade, nodded and tried to smile. I knew that it was not meant to fight off Kobalos attackers. Although he did not put his intention into words, using my gift of empathy I could sense it. If it became necessary, I should take my own life rather than fall into the hands of our enemies and become a slave.

  I looked at it fearfully. I could never take my own life. I had accepted the dagger merely to please the prince. We must indeed be in great danger.

  For a long time nothing happened. I sat on my horse, yawning, hoping that we could soon retreat to a safe distance and make camp.

  The attack took us completely by surprise.

  Not one of the men who had entered the trees managed to call out a warning. They must have been ambushed.

  Mounted Kobalos warriors surged out of the trees and were upon us, followed by others on foot. They advanced swiftly and silently, wielding sabres and battle-axes; even the hooves of their horses were muffled and faint.

  But then I heard a terrifying noise. I had watched the archers of Polyznia practising and remembered that deadly sound. It was the whistling of Kobalos arrows as they fell towards us, dark thin shadows against the moonlight. Now there were cries of pain from humans and whinnies of fear from the horses as the arrows found their targets, taking a deadly toll of our forces.

  It was clear that we were greatly outnumbered and I feared for my life. Some of our warriors held shields above their heads, but I had nothing to ward off the hail of arrows that fell all around me. It was pure chance whether I lived or died.

  Prince Kaylar barked out orders to his men and they quickly gathered themselves and stood firm, trading blow for blow. All I could do was strive to control my horse as it snorted and stamped beside him at the centre of our warriors and the battle raged all round us. We were still some distance from the Kobalos blades and axes, but the volleys of arrows came again and again relentlessly. One would surely find its target soon.

  Suddenly my horse screamed shrilly and bolted; however, it hadn’t fled more than a few yards before its front legs buckled beneath it. I never glimpsed the arrow that brought it down, but I was thrown over its head and landed hard, the fall driving all the air from my lungs.

  I lay there stunned, unable to draw breath. Hooves crashed down close to my head and, terrified of being trampled, I scrambled onto my knees.

  A horse thundered directly towards me, its hooves throwing up clods of mud. I crouched down, trying to protect my head, but at the very last moment it swerved aside. The rider reached down, a strong arm wrapped itself around my waist and I was pulled up onto the horse behind him.

  The man shouted something in Losta. I didn’t understand his words but I recognized that deep booming voice. It was Prince Kaylar. He’d seen me fall and had ridden to my rescue. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my head against his back, clinging on for dear life. Peering around, I saw that we were encircled by enemy riders; our own cavalry were nowhere to be seen.

  The prince urged his horse into a gallop, straight towards them, desperately trying to break out. He wielded a huge sword, slashing right and left as we passed between the mounted Kobalos. I heard screams; saw one fall and another rock in the saddle. But then I realized that we were heading in the wrong direction: arrows were still whistling overhead.

  The prince had taken the line of least resistance, but we were galloping towards the kulad, rather than away from it. I feared that other enemies might be waiting there. But having reached the shelter of the trees, the prince veered southwards, his horse weaving between the tree trunks.

  But before we could emerge from the trees we encountered more of the enemy. The prince was brave and powerful, but he had no one to support him: we were alone; the odds were too great; he could not hope to win.

  What happened next I will remember to my dying day. As we met the enemy, I felt the prince’s body shudder and sway in the saddle. Then a warm liquid drenched my shoulders and back. The horse stumbled beneath us and I looked up . . . and saw that the prince had no head. It had been struck from his body.

  I screamed and fell off the horse, rolling into some scrub. It galloped onwards, its headless rider swaying in the saddle. I lay there stunned. Waves of nausea rippled up from my stomach and I vomited onto the ground. Finally I managed to control my stomach and peered out of the undergrowth.

  I was surrounded by the Kobalos, and all I had was the small dagger that the prince had given me.

  I had just one chance of surviving this: I had to use the gift that made me invisible.

  Holding my breath, I began to focus, willing myself to blend into the background. I could hear Kobalos riders nearby. Had they seen me fall into the bushes? They would certainly have heard me scream. Would they search for me?

  The answer to that question came almost immediately. The horsemen had ridden on, but a small patrol of enemy infantry was advancing towards me, prodding the ground with their spears. No doubt they had been set the task of finding me.

  I hoped that if I kept perfectly still, the huge Kobalos warriors wouldn’t see me. Of course, I couldn’t be sure that my gift would be effective against them. They might sense me in other ways, using their sense of smell, for example. A random jab of a spear might pierce my body at any moment.

  They were very close now. They thwacked the grass and twigs aside with their spears, then grunted, driving them deep into the ground. They were bigger than most men and clad in chain mail. Through the open visors of their helmets I could see thick matted hair on their faces, and eyes that glittered fiercely in the moonlight.

  The right boot of the nearest Kobalos warrior passed within six inches of my head. The tip of his spear came very close to my left leg . . . but he strode on through the undergrowth and didn’t see me. My gift had saved me – at least for a while.

  I watched the line of soldiers recede into the distance, fearing that they might turn back and search the same area of ground again, but they continued through the wood.

  After about five minutes I climbed slowly to my feet. All was silent. The Kobalos were probably pursuing the small force that had been led by poor Prince Kaylar. I shuddered at the thought of what had been done to him and my stomach twisted in revulsion. It was some time before I got it under control again.

  Then I wept, thinking of the wife who’d lost her husband and the children without a father. As I reflected on what had happened, I shook with fear. If they caught me, I’d end up a slave. They would shape me into a purra – a female slave whose duty was to give blood freely, bear their children and obey them in all things. Every day I would be cut with a blade to ensure my obedience.

  I took long deep breaths to steady myself. I had to remember that I was a spook’s apprentice. I needed to learn not to give into my fears. I had to be brave.

  What now? I wondered. Tom and Grimalkin must be leading the army towards the tower. The enemy had detected our own approach . . . Had it been a trap all along? They might know that a larger human army was on its way.

  I had to warn them – somehow I had to get through the enemy lines and out onto the plain. I was still terrified, but I couldn’t just save my own skin and do nothing.

  If I did manage to cross their lines, what direction should I take? I thought about it for a moment, then realized that I had to head roughly east. Tom had told me Grimalkin’s plan.

  The army would have set off north towards Valkarky, and then turned west, heading for this kulad. I would be able to use the moon and stars to guide me. If they were in a narrow column, I still might miss them, but I had to try.

  Suddenly I heard the sound of approaching boots; after a moment of panic I hid behind a tree, summoning my gift of invisibility once more and holding my bre
ath. A Kobalos patrol was marching towards me in single file – a long column of armed warriors. Then I saw that two guards at the rear were in charge of four female prisoners. The women were dressed in rags and chained together by their left ankles: I realized that they were purrai.

  The patrol marched past no more than thirty feet from where I was hiding. As the women followed, one stumbled and fell to her knees. One of the soldiers kicked her in the belly with his boot and I heard the air whoosh out of her mouth. She groaned and collapsed forward onto her face.

  The Kobalos warrior shouted something at her in Losta. He sounded angry – probably because he and his companion were being left behind with their prisoners. Then, suddenly, he drew his knife and slashed the woman’s bare shoulder. She screamed and struggled to her feet, the blood running down her body to drip onto the grass. The soldier slapped her hard with the back of his hand and her lip began to bleed. Tears were streaming down her face as they moved away.

  They headed off towards the kulad, the woman’s sobs gradually fading into the distance.

  I began to breathe again, but I was shaking after witnessing the brutality of the Kobalos. How could the soldier cut a bound and defenceless woman like that? This would be the fate of all human females if the Kobalos won the war.

  I should have done something to help, I thought, even though I knew I’d have had no chance against two armed warriors. I’d have ended up in chains too. But I would do anything to prevent myself falling into that situation. If they attempted to chain me I would fight to the very limits of my strength. It would be better to die in that way than to end up as a slave of the Kobalos.

  Would Tom have intervened had he been with me? I wondered. He still hadn’t recovered from his ordeal, but I felt sure that he would have done something. The patrol had moved on, leaving just two warriors with the prisoners. Tom would have drawn the Starblade and attacked them. Now those four slaves would spend the remainder of their lives being mistreated. Their only hope was for humans to win the war.

  I waited another ten minutes and then began to continue through the wood, moving away from the kulad. Glancing back, I could still see its threatening tower.

  Emerging from the trees, I gazed out onto the plain. Scattered across the ground were the bodies of dead warriors and horses. I had come out a hundred yards from the place where the Kobalos had attacked. Nothing moved out there on the plain, but the enemy might be watching unseen from the trees. I had encountered the patrol of foot soldiers, but what about the mounted Kobalos warriors – where were they? No doubt they had pursued the remnants of Prince Kaylar’s forces, but now they could be on their way back to the kulad.

  It would be easy to spot me out here, even my gift of invisibility might not be enough. But I had to risk it. So after a moment or two studying the stars, I set off towards what I judged to be the eastern horizon.

  TOM WARD

  WE RODE IN darkness at barely a trot, for many of the horses carried two riders: a cavalryman and an archer. I was glad of the slow pace – I still had little strength or energy.

  After several hours the moon rose, and in the far distance we saw the tower of Kartuna rising up above the pine trees like a dark fat thumb.

  Then we spotted something else: a lone figure walking directly towards us.

  I can often recognize people by their walk, and knew immediately who it was. ‘It’s Jenny!’ I told Grimalkin.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘but I fear for the others.’

  I galloped forward to meet Jenny, leaping from my horse, and then she was sobbing in my arms.

  ‘They’re all dead. They’re all dead but me!’ she cried. ‘Poor Prince Kaylar – they . . .’

  I patted her back and gave words of reassurance but to my annoyance Grimalkin intervened.

  ‘Take your time, girl, and speak slowly.’ The witch assassin seized Jenny’s arm and drew her away from me. But Jenny pulled free and ran back.

  Angrily Grimalkin tried to grab her again, but I stepped in front of Jenny.

  ‘Leave her alone!’ I snapped. ‘Don’t you think she’s suffered enough? You kidnapped her – she could have been killed!’

  Grimalkin hissed with fury, but took a step backwards. ‘We need to know precisely what happened,’ she said.

  I turned back to face Jenny. ‘Do you feel well enough to talk?’ I asked.

  She nodded and began her story. Most of our force dismounted and gathered around. Every so often Grimalkin halted Jenny’s account so that she could translate it into Losta for the others.

  Long before she had finished, Prince Kaylar’s son was on his knees, tearing his hair and weeping at the news of his father’s death. It was a terrible tale – it seemed likely that Jenny was the only survivor of the patrol.

  I assumed that Grimalkin would call off the attack on the kulad – or at least wait for the rest of our army to arrive. Instead she spoke quietly to me, proposing an immediate advance with only a dozen soldiers.

  ‘It seems very risky!’ I told her. ‘We need some way to call for help if we get out of our depth. We could use a triple whistle to summon the others.’

  Grimalkin agreed, but I was still unhappy with her proposal and told her bluntly of my fears.

  ‘What if they know we’re here?’ I said. ‘They might have known of Prince Kaylar’s approach in advance. How can we hope to do better with so few? There must be hundreds of warriors in the kulad.’

  The witch assassin stared at me, clearly angered by my challenge. ‘It is a risk we must take!’ she spat. ‘Time is against us – a large Kobalos army even now is riding towards us. I must have the knowledge that lies in that tower. That is what matters. Tell them now!’ she said, gesturing towards the gathering. ‘Tell them what must be done!’

  Filled with misgivings, I obeyed, and the witch assassin then translated my orders.

  So it was that Grimalkin and I led a force of just a dozen men towards the kulad.

  Jenny was left behind. She didn’t object. She’d been scared badly by her encounter with the Kobalos.

  Grimalkin strode beside me, outlining her plan. The tower was surrounded by a high wall and a moat that could be crossed by a drawbridge. It was the only way in. While she approached the wall, we were to stay among the trees and keep perfectly still. Once she had gained access, we were all to follow at her signal. Most of the Kobalos would be quartered below ground. The only way we could win was by attacking swiftly. We had to reach the very top of the kulad where Kobalos High Mages routinely had their quarters. Once there we could defend that position while she learned what she could.

  We halted just short of the first trees, and turned to face Grimalkin. She spoke to the warriors in Losta, repeating what she had already told me. Then she closed her eyes and began to mutter. She was casting a cloaking spell to hide our approach.

  As her muttering rose into a light musical chant, I glanced at the men who were coming with us. Six of them had longbows: these were very accurate at a distance, but were also deadly at short range – they could pierce the toughest armour. I knew all this because Grimalkin had spent hours taking me through the capabilities of our forces. The other six were swordsmen, the cream of our army. One was a champion and had been due to face the Shaiksa after me.

  A cinder path led into the wood; I noticed that it was steaming, creating a mist that reached up into the branches of nearby trees. Why should that be? Why should the ground be hot beneath it?

  I’d no time to consider this further because Grimalkin had completed her spell and was ready to advance. We entered the trees to the left of the path. I took the lead, Grimalkin at my heels, with our small band following in single file. We moved cautiously, making as little noise as possible. There was no wind and it was very gloomy, with cloud now obscuring the moon.

  I sensed the dark mass of the tower ahead, then heard the snort of a horse; the sound came from somewhere to the left of the tower, and it was followed by a whinny. I signalled that we should halt, my heart
lurching with anxiety. Were there Kobalos warriors ahead, waiting to attack us?

  ‘It’s just the stables!’ Grimalkin hissed into my ear. ‘They’re inside the wall. Keep going towards the kulad!’

  I felt angry with myself. I was too jumpy – I still hadn’t got over the trauma of my death. It had sapped my confidence and set my nerves on edge.

  Finally we came to the edge of the trees and saw the tower directly ahead. It was constructed from huge blocks of dark purple stone that dripped with water. Keeping within the trees, I led us to the right, towards the cinder path.

  Grimalkin put her hand on my shoulder and whispered once more into my ear. ‘I’ll try to gain entry to the kulad now. Keep the men back until I signal that it’s safe to follow.’

  I turned to the warriors and gestured that we should crouch low. Then I pointed first to Grimalkin and then to the kulad as if ordering her forward.

  She stepped boldly onto the path and approached the high wall; it didn’t drip like the tower, but glistened as if covered in beads of sweat. I saw that the drawbridge was up and wondered how she planned to cross the moat.

  In seconds the answer became clear, and I heard the warriors around me gasp in astonishment. It was no longer Grimalkin who stood there with her back to us, facing the drawbridge. It was a huge Kobalos warrior dressed in full armour. And when she called out, it was not in her own voice but in a harsh deep guttural tone of command.

  From conversations with the witch assassin back in the County, I knew that this was not true shape-shifting but a spell of illusion – though it was totally convincing. She was to all intents and purposes a Kobalos warrior!

  No reply came from the tower, but she got the answer that we all wanted. With a clank of chains, a rasp of metal and a creak of wood, the drawbridge began to descend. Once it was in position, Grimalkin stepped closer to the moat and waited. With shrieks of tortured metal, the portcullis began to rise. When it was fully up, she crossed the drawbridge, passed through the gate and disappeared from view.