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a master of the quill.”
    Gerd gave a slight bow. “Mightier than the sword so they say. Though I can’t help but feel the man who first said that had not tried defending himself against a blood-mad orc with one.”
    “Whatever you do, don’t ask him how much it costs to feed his dogs.”
    “He’s right, captain. The cost would frighten you to death. Better let them get a sniff of you. They might be unfriendly otherwise.” He moved over to the dogs and said, “Balthus, Slasher, Fang. This pretty lady is a friend. Don’t bite!”
    The dogs glared at Rhiana less fiercely.
    She frowned. “You’ve shielded your dogs. The runes on the collars . . .”
    “It’s not the only thing they protect them from,” said Gerd. “But perhaps we can discuss that on our way to view the Imperial Treasure Vaults.”
    “You’d better take a lit torch and some spares,” Kormak said to Rhiana.
    “You want me to be your linkboy? I have this!” She reached inside her pouch and produced a pearl that Kormak well-remembered. Even in daylight it gave out a faint green glow. In the darkness it would produce as much light as a torch.
    “A torch will be a better weapon against an Old One than your spear. Fire burns the Eldrim.”
    “You can bet your life I’m carrying a torch,” said Gerd. “Rodric too. Only this lazy Aquilean bastard won’t. He claims it takes all his strength to lift that dwarf-forged blade.”
    Rhiana laughed and took a torch.
    “Let’s get hunting,” said Kormak.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    THEY MADE THEIR way down the stairwell into the catacombs. The green glow of Rhiana’s pearl gave as much light as the smoke-spluttering torches. The smell of oil and burning rag drifted through the close air. Shadows danced away from them. Moss clung to the walls and emerged from gaps between the paving stones.
    The dogs snarled. The biggest, Balthus and Slasher, eyed the small one, Fang, as if considering him for a meal. Fang growled back at them, undaunted by their size.
    “You sure you remember the way,” Gerd asked.
    “Yes,” Kormak said.
    “I recall how you got us lost in the night marches round Aethelas.”
    “You were the one leading.”
    “Still trying to shift the blame I see. You’d think that after all these years you would just admit it.”
    “I take it you two have known each other for some time,” Rhiana said.
    “Since he was dragged to Mount Aethelas as a snot-nosed pup by Master Malan. Although, come to think of it, that was before Malan became a Master,” said Gerd. “He was a troublemaker even then I can tell you. Started a fight the day he arrived. Would have got handed his sorry ass as well, if I had not pulled him out of it.”
    Rhiana looked at Kormak. He shook his head.
    “He can shake his head all he likes but he knows it’s true.”
    “Gerd always talks when he’s nervous,” Kormak said.
    “I am not nervous. I am scared shitless. I saw what that thing did to you and I am not carrying a dwarf-forged blade.”
    The dog-handler looked at the abbot, appalled. Kormak wondered if he had ever heard Gerd express himself in quite this way before. Or perhaps it was just the confession of fear that had him worried.
    The steps ended and they were on the level of the vaults now.
    “I am surprised the King-Emperor trusts you to come down here,” Gerd said. “Aquileans are famous for their looting.”
    “The King of Siderea obviously does not share your Taurean prejudices.”
    “He has his own. He does not need any of mine.”
    “I always heard that Aemon was a saint.”
    “Cast your mind back to your scripture lessons and you will recall that not a few of the saints were vicious bastards. His hands were stained crimson and he bathed in the blood of heretics . That was written about Saint Aloysius, not coincidentally known as the Bloody-Handed.”
    “The stories I have heard all say Aemon is a humble man and a great temple builder. He gives alms to the poor and he heals the sick. I’ve not seen