Assassin of the Damned (Dark Gods) Read Online Free PDF Page B

up at us and gnashed their teeth. In some, I spied a muted light of humanity. Those seemed as mournful as savage, as if they understood their degradation.
    “Ofelia,” Filippo said in an oily tone. “This is a wonderful surprise. What? No words for your old friend? Ofelia. I thought we had an agreement. I let you enter the castle. You—”
    “You always planned me treachery,” she said nervously. I had the feeling she tried hard not to glance my way. In spite of my horror, I wondered what treachery she had in store for me.
    Filippo laughed. “Planning is one thing, doing is another. But if you do it, you must succeed. You failed to succeed when you sent the White Company killers after me.”
    “I’ve kept my bargain,” she whined.
    Filippo eased the Arabian closer, and his features turned ugly. “That was a nasty bit of business, setting the captain and his men on me. Did you really think—”
    Ofelia nudged me with her foot. I barely remembered to close my eyes and turn my head. Her garments rustled as if she threw something. I heard a hiss and a violent explosion that made me cringe. Horses screamed, riders shouted and hounds howled.
    My fear boiled into rage. With a bellow, I grabbed the sword and leaped from the moving buckboard—the mules bolted. I had a moment to wonder if Ofelia had calculated that in her plans.
    With a jarring thud, I crashed into Filippo. The Arabian reared. We tumbled. I twisted Filippo under me. He struck the ground first and bones crunched. The impact blew me off him. I rolled, found I’d kept hold of the sword and sprang to my feet. Riders shouted wildly and clawed at their eyes. Horses screamed and turned in circles. Filippo tried to get up as he worked his mouth like a landed carp. I hacked once and finished him. It was brutal and sudden, the usual way of war.
    At his death, riders lurched in the saddle as if wasps had stung them. The altered hounds howled like damned souls and fled. Maybe Ofelia had spoken truly about just having to kill Filippo. Still, I distrusted her. So I used my advantage, the sighted among the temporarily blinded. I lunged here and there and used the tip of my sword. I stabbed at vital spots. Even so, four riders galloped away.
    I tried to grab a horse. I would catch Ofelia. Each time I neared an animal, it bolted in terror. They must have smelled the stink of sorcery upon my person.
    I knelt beside one of the fallen riders and forced myself to inspect him. He had a pushed out mouth and nose, like the beginning of a snout. He seemed human otherwise, which is to say that the transformation was all the more hideous. I could only conclude that he had bargained his soul and had begun to melt into a demon. Either that, or instead of me being Dante and entering the land of the dead and the demons of Hell, they had somehow found a means onto the Earth. The thought made me back away. I glanced at others. They were the same. Each had a badge pinned to his chest that showed a cloaked man. Did that make them servants of this Old Father Night? One thing made me glad. Each of those lying on the road was dead.
    I dared crouch beside Filippo and examined the gold chain. I let my hand hover over the pendant. Repugnance filled me. I wanted nothing to do with the foul gold. Let it tempt another.
    I stood. Ofelia’s wagon was gone. I cleaned my sword, sheathed it and set out for the castle. If I’d been ensorcelled, would my face begin to push outward into a snout? Were Erasmo’s dark deities indeed real? I touched my face. It seemed normal. Even so, I lengthened my stride. I would force these spells from me or I would wreck Perugian vengeance upon the caster.

-7-

    To my surprise, I found Ofelia a quarter mile later. The right rear wheel had spun off her wagon. That corner of the wagon touched the road. Ofelia had unhitched the mules and tied their reins to branches. She had one end of a pole under the wagon, with wood under the pole to make it a lever. Her lantern-light