Don’t worry Sergeant. I know there is a price on his head. Your men shall all share the prize money.”

Again, that sneering tone of voice, Rik thought. Sardec was, of course, above such considerations or affected to be. The majority of the prize would find its way into his pocket anyway. Officers took the lion’s share of such cash. It recompensed them for the price of their commissions.

“What about the wizard, sir?” asked Weasel. “Any bounty on him?”

There usually were bounties on dark sorcerers. The temple offered them and many wealthy private individuals contributed to this worthy cause. Dark magic was feared by everybody, particularly by those who had most to lose.

“I will authorise payment to each of the men who take him of a gold crown from my own personal funds, in addition to the usual state bounty” said Master Severin. "Double if you take him alive. Lieutenant Sardec is my witness."

That got a few mutters of approval. A man could stay drunk for a month on a crown.

“Something against him, eh master?” said Weasel. The wizard merely stared at him coldly.

“That is none of your business,” he said. From his tone Rik suspected that things might go ill for Weasel once the dark mage was caught. Weasel probably did too, but no sign of it showed on his face.

“You’re right, sir, beg your pardon, sir; I let my enthusiasm for the task at hand carry my tongue away.”

Sardec reasserted command. “Sergeant Hef, take your squad and begin to scout the entrance to the valley while there is yet light. Corporal Toby, accompany the Sergeant with your squad. Do not stray too far from the ridge-line. We do not want to trip any wards there might be, do we?”

Both men nodded and gestured for their men to fall in. It seemed that battle would soon be upon them.

Chapter Four

Rik threw himself flat alongside the others just before they reached the brow of the hill and made his way forward on hands and knees. He knew a man is never more visible than when on a ridge-line, particularly with the sun behind him. He was taking no chances of being spotted.

He looked down into a long valley, flanked on either side by peaks. A waterfall at the far end fed into a large lake. Around the lake were a number of tumbled down buildings. The lake had once been smaller for the ruins of many towers protruded above its surface now. Clearly there had been a city here a long time ago.

“Achenar,” said Weasel. “Not a good place.”

These were the ruins of the ancient city of the Spider God, destroyed by the Terrarchs during their wars of conquest. This was the home of the demon Uran Ultar, reviled in legend, a place whose name was still a byword for horror, almost eight centuries after its destruction.

“I wish they had told us we were coming here,” said the Barbarian.

“Stayed at home, would you?” asked Sergeant Hef.

“No. But I would have brought some truesilver bullets.”

“It’s just a bunch of ruins,” said Leon.

“The hill-tribes avoid this place,” said Weasel.