Read Online 02 - Taint of Evil by Neil McIntosh - (ebook by Undead) - Free Book Online Page B

as from nowhere. They may be
our allies, but we know nothing about them.”
    Bea pressed the last of the herbs into a poultice for the wound, then took
the cup from Stefan. “I’m not sure who they are either,” she said, “but I’ve
seen them, or others like them before. In Mielstadt. I think they came to
barter, to trade.”
    “Trade?” Stefan asked. “Trade what?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t know. Ah—good.” The wounded soldier had opened
his eyes again, and was gazing up at Bea and Stefan. He took a little more of
the liquid from the offered cup, moistening his cracked and bloodied lips.
    “I was brought unto the Gates of Morr,” he whispered. “You have carried me
back. May almighty Sigmar grant you fortune.” He started to lift his head but
Bea pushed him back, gently but firmly.
    “You need rest,” she told him. “You’re not going anywhere.”
    The soldier’s clear blue eyes flicked from side to side. “The mutants?”
    “Destroyed,” Bruno told him. “They’ve met their retribution.”
    The soldier expelled a deep breath. “Then Sigmar has favoured us. Our work is
done.” He sank back upon the ground, and his eyes fell closed. Bea motioned to
the soldiers standing round.
    “Make sure he gets all the water he needs. And keep the wound clean. The
dressing will need changing every hour or so. Above all he needs rest,” she told
them. “Don’t even think of moving him before daylight.”
    The men conferred briefly. The one whom Stefan now identified as their leader
nodded agreement. “Then we’ll make camp here for the night,” he announced. “You’d
earn our gratitude if you would stay with us.”
    Bea looked to Stefan. “Well?”
    Stefan considered. Most of the hours of darkness still lay ahead of them.
They could ride on for another hour or so before pitching camp, though the risks
of travelling by night were considerably higher than by day. And, if they were
to continue on, where would they be travelling to? Stefan thought back to the
battle with the mutants. For a while he had had a purpose, powerful and
all-consuming. For a moment all other thoughts, even of Zucharov, had been
obliterated.
    Now, perhaps for the first time since they had left Mielstadt, Stefan
acknowledged the uncomfortable truth. They were on a journey without maps,
trying to recover the trail of a man who had long since vanished. A man who, for
all that they knew, might even be dead. Right then, any decision, any direction,
seemed as good as any other.
    For now, the best decision was probably to stay put for the night. And, in
the morning—well, the morning could look after itself.
    He looked to Bruno. His comrade shrugged his shoulders. “It’s as good a place
as any. At least we’ll have safety in numbers.”
    “Agreed,” Stefan said. “We’ll set down here, then see where the day takes
us.”
    The two friends worked quickly and methodically, fixing a shelter from wood
and canvas with the practiced ease of men long upon the road. By the time they’d finished, Stefan realised he was desperately tired. Riding on would
have been the wrong decision.
    He stretched out upon the hard ground, waves of aching weariness suddenly
flooding his body. Bruno sat beside him, and both sat watching the brisk
efficiency of the soldiers as they constructed their own camp. Bea still knelt
by the side of the wounded man, her hands resting upon the freshly bandaged
wound.
    “Amazing,” Bruno commented. “You wouldn’t think she was tired at all.”
    “No more than you would tire if you had a sword in your hand,” Stefan said.
“It’s her calling, just as the sword is ours. We serve the same purpose, I
think. But in very different ways.”
    Bruno nodded agreement. “I know we didn’t plan it this way. But we couldn’t
have chosen a fairer companion.”
    Stefan looked at his friend, reading the expression in his face. It was a
look he’d grown familiar with over the years.