The Curse on the Chosen (The Song of the Tears Book 2) by Ian Irvine Page B

The finger-light died.
    ‘How come you didn’t tell us that before?’ said Colm,
aggrieved.
    ‘I’ve only just remembered that I’d done it.’
    It explained why the men they’d encountered earlier had been
lost and confused, though Nish didn’t take much comfort from it. His father
could have broken Flydd’s enchantment by now.
    ‘So how come Vivimord got in when you were taking renewal?’
said Colm.
    ‘When I set the enchantment,’ Flydd replied, ‘I didn’t know
he was my enemy. No single enchantment can protect against every mancer. This
way.’
    Nish couldn’t imagine how Flydd knew where to go, for he
couldn’t see a thing, nor remember the myriad twists and turns they’d taken
since escaping from Jal-Nish.
    ‘Quiet,’ whispered Flydd after some minutes. ‘We’re close.’
    ‘How are we going to do it?’ said Nish.
    ‘With extreme violence. And no chance offered.’
    No one became a member of the God-Emperor’s Imperial Guard
without losing most of their humanity, and they would ruthlessly exploit any
hesitation. Even so, and despite all the killing he’d done during the war, Nish
could not take another man’s life without a qualm.
    He hardened his heart. It was their lives or his; their
lives or Maelys’s; their lives or else the God-Emperor would prevail, and if
the tears gave him the secret of immortality his brutal reign would last until
the end of time. Nish could not endure that thought; Jal-Nish had to be
overthrown.
    They turned another corner and saw the faintest illumination
reflecting off the stone wall from around the next bend.
    ‘Wait here.’ Flydd went forward silently.
    Nish felt an urge to practise a few strokes with the rapier,
a weapon he had not used in many years, but restrained himself. Flydd would not
appreciate its point coming his way in the dark.
    Shortly he was beside them again. ‘There are three guards,
sitting ten or twelve paces past the corner, just before the entrance to the
flame cavern. They’ve got their backs to us, watching the other passage. At the
corner, I’ll make light and we’ll rush them while they’re dazzled. We’ve got to
take them down without warning. If one gets away …’
    ‘We know,’ said Nish, holding the rapier point down so as to
avoid accidents. He was longing for bloody action now. It would help to take
his mind off the pain.
    They agreed on battle signals and headed for the corner.
Flydd peered around it, then moved noiselessly out. Nish followed half a span
to his right, for the passage was broad here. A little way ahead, he made out a
flicker coming from an opening to their left – the entrance to the cursed
flame chamber. This side of it, three large silhouettes waited in the dark.
    Flydd touched their wrists again, the signal that he was
ready. Nish tensed; on the count of five a brilliant light burst forth from
Flydd’s upstretched fingers and they charged.
    The man on the right was scrambling to his feet when the
rapier took him in the back of the neck; he collapsed without a sound. On the
other side, Colm had taken the head off his man with a single savage blow.
Blood sprayed onto the tunnel roof and all over them.
    Unfortunately Flydd stumbled and fell hard, and the third
soldier took off into the dark so quickly that Nish had no hope of catching
him. Before he could move, Colm swung his sword over his shoulder and sent it
flying viciously through the air. It struck the fleeing soldier in the back and
brought him down.
    Colm went after him without a word and finished the job,
returning with jaw set and eyes hard.
    ‘That was a … mighty throw,’ Nish said, uneasily, for it
showed a side of Colm he hadn’t seen before. Nish had killed with military
efficiency, while Colm’s blows revealed a violent rage, barely kept in check.
    ‘I’ve suffered plenty at their hands,’ Colm grated. ‘In the
past, your father’s men showed me no mercy, and I’ll give them none.’
    ‘You never forget an injury, do