2 Defiler of Tombs by William King Read Free Book Online Page A

Watchers stand apart from the rest of the clans. They go their own way, perform their own tasks.”
    “And what is that?”
    “No one really knows. Some say they watch the barrows and make sure no one has tampered with them. Some say they serve the Old Ones. Some say they rob tombs and sell what they find.”
    “Whatever he did, he was killed by sorcery,” Kormak said. He looked at the woman. She met his gaze boldly. “That is most likely why your wolf is so upset. He does not like the smell.”
    “Shae is always like this,” said the woman. Her voice was husky. Kormak could not help but notice the way the men looked to her, the way warriors look to a leader, even old Javier, who would normally have been in charge here.
    Kormak studied her more closely. She was garbed like a Tinker woman in a long skirt, a yellowish silk shirt and an embroidered waistcoat. There were many rings on her fingers and a great deal of jewellery on her arms and around her neck. Almost all of it contained signs of mystical significance. Judging from the look in her eyes, she saw him noticing this. She folded her arms under her breasts and cocked her head to one side. She was no longer restraining the wolf. It barked threateningly at Kormak.
    “It’s a beautiful beast,” Kormak said. “I would hate to have to kill it.”
    “But you would if you had to, would you not, Guardian?”
    “Yes, I would. If I had to.” The men’s hands went to their knives. Kormak looked at them. The woman made a gesture and the men relaxed a little. The wolf did the same. They looked at each other. Tension was in the air.
    “What are we going to do with the body?” Brandon asked.
    The woman said, “We were going to take his amulet and his personal belongings to his people and build a cairn for him so that his kin could find the body. Although I doubt they will want a body so tainted in this sour land.”
    “We should burn it or it might rise,” said Kormak. “The Shadow is in it now. We should do it before dark.”
    “Easier said than done,” said the woman. “It is wet and we have little we can use for kindling.”
    Kormak nodded. He took out his own knife and sawed away at the neck, tearing through the spine and gristle. Such blood as flowed was black and oily. He picked up the head by the hair and dashed it against a rock until the brains splattered out.
    “Now you can build a cairn,” he said. “I will bury the head separately.”
    He did so and then he washed himself as best he could in a pool of collected rain-water. The others watched him with looks of horror on their faces.
     
     
     
    “You’re quiet,” said Sir Brandon. The rain had stopped and they were all hunkering down around the fire in the wind shadow of the wagon. Nearby, the cairn rose out of the gloom. Kormak could tell the body was on their minds.
    The wolf’s eyes reflected the firelight where it lay. Aisha sat beside it. She was sewing something, the actions automatic. She watched everyone around the fire. Javier stirred the pot. He had been adding dried meat and herbs and tasting it occasionally.
    Kormak nodded. “I am thinking.”
    “You always did have difficulty doing that and talking at the same time,” said the knight. Kormak shrugged. He was not in the mood for banter.
    “Why did you smash the skull like that? Will it really stop the dead man from rising?”
    “It often does. Even if the corpse rises, it will not be able to see, there will be nothing to guide the body. Some sorcerers say the head is where the spirit dwells. Without it, nothing can take possession of a body.”
    “Let’s hope they are right.”
    “Let’s hope.”
    “You are a surly bastard tonight. What makes you so afraid the body will rise? We’re not in the Cursed Lands yet.” Brandon was trying to sound cheerful but he glanced over his shoulder into the darkness. He clearly found it very difficult to forget that the Barrow Hills were out there.
    “He was killed by dark