Of the dozen or so dwarfs who remained on the balcony, a small group of five set themselves to guard the retreat of the others in a display of commendable bravery. Like their commander, they intended to sell their lives dearly. Neferata leapt from the balcony, bypassing them entirely. Her handmaidens followed, leaping and bounding, leaving the spirit-host to deal with the survivors from their entry. As the spectral creatures boiled across the balcony, the vampires descended. Neferata’s eyes found the pulley and wheel system that controlled the titan doors and she gestured with her sword. ‘Take it! Get it open!’ she howled.
Crossbow bolts rattled off the stone and their armour as more dwarfs moved to stop them. One of her handmaidens, a brunette creature called Sabine, was punched backwards, a bolt standing at attention between her breasts. She writhed and shrieked as she squirmed on the ground, clawing at her chest. Neferata ignored her follower’s plight as she bounded towards the gate mechanism. She hit the crank with her shoulder, throwing her whole body into the act. The immense chain that raised the counter-weights which would open the door shook as she hit it.
Crossbow bolts sprouted from her back and her arms. She gasped in pain, but resisted the urge to turn on her attackers or retreat. More bolts smashed home, and she slumped, coughing blood. Yet with a grinding roar, the gates to the inner deep began to swing open. Neferata rolled off the mechanism and fell to the floor as the gigantic ghouls that led the Strigoi advance ripped the doors the rest of the way open and admitted the undead host.
The sounds of battle filled the air and she closed her eyes. The crossbow bolts that had pierced her began to fall free one by one as she encouraged her metamorphic flesh to expel them. Hooves clopped close. ‘A handy trick,’ someone said. Neferata cracked an eye.
Morath looked down at her, his blistered face twisted into a smile. Neferata pushed herself to her feet. ‘Was it? I have so many that I lose track,’ she said. She turned. The dwarfs were stubborn, but they were outnumbered and unprepared. Their horns were already calling for a retreat.
‘Your plan worked, I see,’ Morath said, leaning forwards across the pommel of his saddle. He didn’t ask how she had survived, or what had occurred since her disappearance.
‘Of course it did,’ she said, snatching up her sword and sheathing it. ‘They’ll fall back to the Deeping Stair. We need to harry them, to keep them from regrouping here. I want them running.’
‘Easily done, now that we have some room,’ Morath said, snatching at his reins and turning his mount. The dead pushed forwards, ignoring the impotent fury of their foes. The dwarfs gave ground grudgingly, but give ground they did. They had been thrown off their guard by Neferata’s sudden entry, and the Strigoi’s advent had prevented them from reforming the shield wall.
Corpse-wolves and mummified horsemen galloped past her, following the retreating dwarfs. She let them go. The army would be spread out across the hold, if she judged Khaled correctly. There would be more bastions of resistance than just here, but here was the main one. Here, at the heart of the hold, was where Borri would be. And Khaled wanted Borri. Khaled needed the king’s head and beard to establish himself as Ushoran’s right hand.
Her Kontoi had thrown himself into the snake-pit with his eyes wide open, and he knew well what would keep him from getting bitten. He would rise far. But never to where he desired. Not now. Not with the crown sitting on Ushoran’s brow, dictating the commands of a being better forgotten.
She smiled. She had seen the web for what it was, in the end, and seen the crown for the spider it pretended not to be. A trap by any other name; it was the soul of another dead man, trying to force her into his shadow.
Kings, undying or otherwise, had no use for a queen who spoke her mind. And Neferata had no use for kings. And soon, she would have no need to fear them. That was, if she didn’t die in the process.
Mounted on skeletal steeds, Khaled and Zandor rode towards her. Trust the Strigoi to stay close to his greatest rival. Both men displayed surprise at seeing her, and the latter showed a certain amount of trepidation. Perhaps it hadn’t been Khaled who had arranged for her to walk into an ambush after all.
‘Hail, my Kontoi,’ Neferata said, plucking a final bolt from her body.
‘I thought—’ Khaled began as he swung down off his steed. Zandor followed suit, frowning.
‘I know what you thought,’ Neferata said. ‘Yet here I am, my Kontoi, coming to your rescue again.’
‘Rescue,’ Khaled repeated, glaring at her.
‘Oh yes, though you don’t deserve it.’ She looked back and forth between them. ‘Which of you was it, I wonder, who decided to let me walk into a trap? Was it you, my Kontoi? Or was it perhaps you, Zandor?’ She leered at the Strigoi, who stepped back. ‘Regardless, the dwarfs are falling back to their final redoubt.’
‘Ushoran will be most pleased,’ Zandor said smugly. ‘You have done well, woman.’
Neferata didn’t reply. Khaled looked at her. ‘They’re retreating to their temples, aren’t they?’ he said, eyes glinting. ‘Zandor and I will take several of the Strigoi and cut them off. We can’t let them scurry into their damnable holes. I would be done with this.’
‘For once, we are of one mind,’ Neferata said. ‘There will be women and children in those temples. I want them alive.’
‘Why?’ Khaled said.
‘Because I have commanded such,’ she said, putting an edge to her words. ‘I intend to offer the dwarfs terms—’
‘What?’ Zandor snarled. ‘Who are you to—?’
‘I am Neferata of Lahmia,’ she snarled, backhanding the Strigoi and knocking him from his feet. She turned her glare on Khaled, pinning him in place before he could draw his sword. ‘That should be reason enough to do as I command. I want them alive, Khaled, alive and unharmed.’
Khaled stepped back and hauled Zandor to his feet. The Strigoi glared at her groggily, but said nothing as Khaled hauled him away. Neferata watched them go, and then said, ‘You can come out now, Anmar.’
The girl stepped out from the shadows of the gateway, her sword gripped loosely in her hand. ‘Who would you have helped, I wonder?’ Neferata said, turning to her. Anmar said nothing. She met Neferata’s eyes, but only for a moment.
‘Have I ever told you about my cousin?’ Neferata said. ‘Her name was—’
‘Yes, you have,’ Anmar said softly. Neferata stopped, nonplussed. ‘Why would you spare them?’
‘The dwarfs?’ Neferata said. Anmar nodded. Neferata smiled thinly. ‘Spite. Ushoran wants them exterminated. Thus, I will spare them.’ That and it would be easier to get the dwarfs to surrender if their loved ones were offered safe passage.
‘Is that why you tried to take the crown?’
Neferata hesitated. ‘Why are you asking this? Yes, girl, I wanted the crown for spite.’
‘Is that why you took me?’ Anmar said, shifting her sword in her grip.
‘I—’ Neferata hesitated again. What had got into the girl? ‘Anmar, you are my little leopard. I took you because I wanted to give you my gift.’ She stepped towards the girl. ‘Anmar—’
‘I must go. My brother will need me,’ Anmar said, slipping past Neferata and speeding after Khaled.
‘What would you have done if she’d helped him?’ Naaima said. Neferata turned and saw her oldest handmaiden picking her way across the bodies of the dead. Before Neferata could speak, Naaima continued. ‘The others are doing as you commanded, never fear. The Strigoi will never see them coming.’
‘Good.’ Neferata peered at her. ‘You will take Morath.’
‘I will be gentle,’ Naaima said, flashing a crooked smile.
Neferata nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. ‘I wouldn’t have hurt her,’ she said finally. ‘She is as dear to me as my own sister.’