Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [114]
Papus didn’t react, merely eyed the group for some time before she said, “Bring one closer to me. I hardly believe such myths survive on Jokull.”
Brynd called out, and three uniformed women unlocked the gate and, with caution, ushered one of the creatures out. The thing stood motionless as Papus examined it closely, trying to deduce answers. Brynd followed her gaze as she moved the lantern up, down, sideways, skimming light across different parts of the naked torso. This one would once have been a woman, her body now exceptionally anemic; her skin was stretched taut around bone, so the ribs extruded as if she were a famine victim. Yet beyond minor visual signs of putrefaction, she was still alive.
“Can you tell me anything?” Brynd said.
“Well this one certainly appears dead.” Papus replaced the lantern on the wall. “Yes. Quite dead,” she repeated.
The three soldiers returned the draugr to its cell, then returned upstairs out of earshot.
“I don’t think it’s actually a draugr,” Papus said, “not in the true sense, at least.”
“No?” Brynd folded his arms expectantly.
“No, I think these have been brought back to life by other means.”
“But how?” Brynd asked. “And by whom?” He watched Papus, and could see the confusion registering on her face. It struck him then that she was clueless. For someone of such advanced knowledge, that was alarming.
“I don’t know how exactly, but I’ve my suspicions about who is responsible.”
“Who?”
“Dartun Súr, of the Order of the Equinox.”
Brynd was surprised at the answer, a cultist so close to Villjamur. “He keeps a very low profile normally, doesn’t he?”
“He does, yes, but this is very much like something he’d be capable of. I’ve heard rumors of him being able to preserve life; though that sort of thing isn’t common knowledge, not even in our cultist circles.”
Pretentious cow. You’re only human, like the rest of us. Brynd said, “Well, your circles aren’t our circles, Papus, so please enlighten me.”
Papus appeared to ignore his sarcasm. She was probably too concerned with feeling as unknowledgeable on the subject as he was. “Well, this isn’t right if these creatures are being used to … kill.”
“And once they start killing, the bastards are difficult to stop,” Brynd muttered. “The ones who attacked us had to be chopped in pieces, and burned, just to be sure. If it’s really your friend Dartun, then he’s breeding them to kill.”
“You think we’re all friends?” Papus asked. “You should know better, commander. Anyway, I suspect he’s up to something serious at the moment.”
“Something I should know about?”
“No, this is strictly a cultist issue, so it can be solved by us alone, commander.”
Brynd’s tone became more menacing. “I know you sects have had your fights and bickering in the past, but so far you’ve always kept it to yourselves—that’s fine. Now, you’re affecting the rest of us, and you’re endangering the lives of Empire soldiers. And Bohr knows what you’re doing to ordinary citizens out in the country.”
“I’m not doing anything,” Papus snapped. “There’s some other trickery being misused, involving some ancient relic no doubt. But I now thank you for making me aware of it.” She turned away.
“What, you’re just going?” Brynd said, surprised at how annoyed she was getting.
“And what did you honestly expect me to do, commander?” she said, frowning. “I’ve told you, this is some ritual I have no experience of.”
“Can’t you help us at all?” Brynd said. “I’ve got to leave the city shortly, and I’ll be out of Villjamur for some time. I’d prefer to know that something was being done meanwhile to investigate this matter, because I’ve no idea if we’ll come across any more of these things. This lot may seem pretty docile, but they can transform into savage killers. They’re not to be taken lightly.” He grasped one of the bars as he gazed at the draugr again. “There are too many strange things happening these days. It’s as if this ice brings with it a certain madness.”
“I’ll do what