The Codex Lacrimae: The Book of Tears

Chapter 10: Morpeth's Masters

In Grand Master Arcadian's solarium, emerald and orange light flared one last time around Mercedier's form on the bed, but then — as the veteran Hospitaller soldier breathed his last while straining to free himself from Farbauti's iron grip — the man's eyes snapped open.

"Get ... off ... of ... me!" Morpeth's voice roared as he pushed against Farbauti's hands which were clamped over his forehead and mouth.

The elder Huntsman backed away, and the demon who now wore Mercedier's body swung his legs over the edge of the sickbed.

A tremendous flapping of leathern wings preceded a cockatrice's arrival in a graceful swoop through the middle of the three picture window casements. Hand-sized claws scratched on the floor to halt its momentum, while a reptilian tail splintered a corner table into fragments.

The creature lumbered forward, roaring into the light of torches and lanterns whose flames guttered from its settling wings. It was three times the size of a human, and of surprising agility and grace for the bizarre shape of its form; with the head, torso, and midsection of a rooster, the rest of the monster's body was as serpentine as a basilisk, but unlike that close cousin, this beast had a dragon's wings.

The creature squawked, and fixed Morpeth and Farbauti with fiery red eyes. "As requested, I come, Huntsmen," hissed Fafnir, the commander of their allied force. "You might have noticed that we're not at Saladin's camp. Congratulations on infiltrating the Krak, but this breach is in complete contrast to our plans. Should I assume that we also no longer need a siege to accomplish our ends?"

"No, we move forward as planned," Farbauti replied, ignoring the beast's sarcasm and putrescent, rotting odor as he stooped to clean up the linen sheets, medical implements, and other detritus left on the cobbled floor after murdering Brother Damian. "Aber, you are making too much racket — would you mind changing into human form?"

"Two fire-demons and a dragon in disguise are in the Grand Master's quarters," Fafnir crowed, rattling the area like the sound of a hundred roosters, "and since you've killed another member of their command staff, are you truly concerned with keeping things quiet, Farbauti?"

"We'll not be bothered if you can refrain from breaking any more furniture and squawking like an oversized barnyard animal!" Farbauti said, rolling the mess into a bundle. He stepped into the garderobe to cast it into the toilet hole through which he'd disposed of Damian's body.

He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the cockatrice to settle itself. "We're meeting here and not in Saladin's camp because Abbadon's disguised himself as a Hospitaller physician named Brother Nicholas. He discovered an opportunity here in the Grand Master's chambers and we took advantage of it."

"Oh, very well," Fafnir crowed, and his form shimmered into that of a man clad in Hospitaller robes. "I think I'll be a visiting Grand Master, if anyone asks."

"Danke." Farbauti turned and threw pieces of the shattered table into the massive fireplace.

"Hold," Fafnir grumbled, casting around the chamber with carious eyes set deeply into shadowed and dead-looking sockets. The look he gave Farbauti had no mercy. "Is there a glamour at work here? I sense a ... presence."

Farbauti tensed momentarily, then relaxed and waved a hand at the transformed Mercedier. "Ja, ja. Of course, besides the one you're cloaking yourself in, there's now another. Morpeth wears a new form. The magic is just now finishing its work."

"I don't know what glamour you're talking about for me, but I thought I sensed a great power here ... great wizardry. But ... I See ... nothing. Ah, well." Fafnir glanced at the wall near Mercedier's bed with a slight smile. "Perhaps it's what you say, Morpeth's new form."