David Drake & Karl Edward Wagner - Killer

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Killer

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Killer

David Drake

Karl Edward Wagner

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any

resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Chapters One and Two were published in a somewhat different form in the novelet, "Killer," by Karl

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Certain portions of Chapter Nineteen were published in a somewhat different form in the novelet,

A Baen Book

Baen Publishing Enterprises

P.O. Box 1403

Riverdale, NY 10471

www.baen.com

ISBN: 0-7434-3586-9

Cover art by Patrick Turner

First Baen printing, January 1985. Second printing December 2002

Distributed by Simon & Schuster

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

Typeset by Brilliant Press

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

To Gary Hoppenstand and Michel Parry—

And super heroes come to feast

To taste the flesh not yet deceased

And all I know

Is still the beast is feeding—

Richard O'Brien

The Rocky Horror Show

BAEN BOOKS by DAVID DRAKE

Hammer's Slammers

The Tank Lords

Caught in the Crossfire

The Butcher's Bill

The Sharp End

Paying the Piper

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The RCN series

With the Lightnings

Lt. Leary, Commanding

The Belisarius Series

with Eric Flint

An Oblique Approach

In the Heart of Darkness

Destiny's Shield

Fortune's Stroke

The Tide of Victory

The Dance of Time

The General series

with S.M. Stirling

The Forge

The Chosen

The Reformer

The Tyrant

(with Eric Flint)

Independent Novels and Collections

Seas of Venus

Foreign Legions

(edited by David Drake)

Cross the Stars

The Dragon Lord

Birds of Prey

Northworld Trilogy

Redliners

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Starliner

All the Way to the Gallows

The Undesired Princess and The Enchanted Bunny

(with L. Sprague de Camp)

Lest Darkness Fall and To Bring the Light

(with L. Sprague de Camp)

Enemy of My Enemy:

Terra Nova

(with Ben Ohlander)

Armageddon

(edited with Billie Sue Mosiman)

Killer

(with Karl Edward Wagner)

Chapter One

EPIGRAPH

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,

And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart.

In liberty of bloody hand shall range

With conscience wide as hell. . . .

William Shakespeare, Henry V

Rain was again trickling from the greyness overhead, and the damp reek of the animals hung on the misty

droplets. A hyena wailed miserably, longing for the dry plains it would never see again. Lycon listened

without pity. Let it bark its lungs out here in Portus, at the Tiber's mouth, or die later in the amphitheater

at Rome. He remembered the Ethiopian girl who had lived three days after a hyena had dragged her

down. It would have been far better had the beast not been driven off before it had finished

disemboweling her.

"Wish the rain would stop," complained Vonones. The Armenian dealer's plump face was gloomy. "A lot

of these are going to die otherwise, and I'll be caught in the middle. In Rome they only pay me for live

delivery, but I have to pay you regardless."

"Which is why I'm a hunter and you're a dealer," chided Lycon without overmuch sympathy. "Well, it

won't ruin you," he reassured the dealer. "Not at the prices you pay. You can replace the entire lot for a

fifth of what they'll bring in Rome."

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The tiger whose angry cough had been cutting through the general racket thundered forth a full-throated

roar. Lycon and the Armenian heard his heavy body crash against the bars of his cage. Vonones nodded

toward the sound. "There's one I can't replace."

"What? The tiger?" Lycon seemed surprised. "I'll grant you he's the biggest I've ever captured, but I

brought back two others with him that are near as fine."

"No, not the tiger." Vonones pointed. "I meant the thing he's snarling at. Come on, I'll show you. Maybe

you'll know what it is."

Vonones put on his broad felt hat and snugged up his cloak against the drizzle. Lycon followed, not

really noticing the rain that beaded his close-cut black hair. He had been a mercenary scout in his youth,

before he had sickened of butchering Rome's barbarian enemies and turned instead to hunting animals for

her arenas. A score of years in the field had left the beastcatcher as calloused to the weather as to all

else.

For the beasts themselves he felt only professional concern, no more. As they passed a wooden cage

with a dozen maned baboons, he scowled and halted the dealer. "I'd get them into a metal cage, if I were

you. They'll chew through the lashings of that one, and you'll have hell catching them again."

"Overflow," the Armenian told him vexedly. "Had to put them there. It's all the cages I've got, with your

load and then this mixed shipment from Tipasa getting here at the same time. Don't worry. They move

tomorrow when we sort things out for the haul to Rome."

Beasts snarled and lunged as the men threaded through the maze of cages. Most of the animals were

smeared with filth, their coats worn and dull where they showed through the muck. A leopard pining in a

corner of its cage reminded Lycon of a cat he once had force-fed—a magnificent mottled-brown beast

that he had purchased half-starved from a village of gap-toothed savages in the uplands of India. He

needed four of his men to pin it down while he rammed chunks of raw flesh down its throat with a stake.

That lithe killer was now the Empress' plaything, and her slavegirls fed it tit-bits from silver plates.

"There it is," Vonones announced, pointing to a squat cage of iron. The creature stared back, ignoring

the furious efforts of the tiger alongside to slash his paw across the space that separated their cages.

"You've got some sort of wild man!" Lycon blurted with first glance.

"Nonsense!" Vonones snorted. "Look at the tiny scales, those talons! There may be a race somewhere

with blue skin, but this thing's no more human than a mandrill is. The Numidians called it a lizard-ape in

their tongue—a sauropithecus."

After that first startled impression, Lycon had to agree. The thing seemed far less human than any large

ape, which it somewhat resembled. Probably those hairless limbs had made him think it was a man—that

and the aura of malign intelligence its stare conveyed. But the collector had never seen anything like it, not

in twenty years of professional hunting along the fringes of the known world.

Lizard-ape, or sauropithecus to render the word into Latin, seemed as good a name as any for the

beast. Lycon could not even decide whether it was mammal or reptile, nor even guess its sex. It was

scaled and exuded an acrid reptilian scent, but its movements and poise were feline. Ape-like, it walked

erect in a forward crouch, and its long forelimbs seemed adapted for gripping and climbing. It would be

about man-height if it straightened fully, and Lycon estimated its lean weight close to that of a big leopard.

Its face was cat-like, low-browed and triangular of jaw. A wedge-shaped, earless skull thrust forward

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upon a snaky neck, and it had no more nostrils than a lizard did. Its eyes looked straight forward with

human intensity, but were slit-pupiled and showed a swift nictitating membrane.

"This came from the Aures Mountains?" Lycon questioned wonderingly.

"It did. There was a big lot of gazelles and elephants that one of my agents jobbed from the Numidians.

This thing came with them, and all I know about it is what Dama wrote me when he sent the shipment:

that a band of Numidians saw a hilltop explode and found this animal when they went to see what had

happened."

"A hilltop exploded!"

The dealer shrugged. "That's all he wrote."

Lycon studied the cage in silence.

"Why did you weld the cage shut instead of putting a chain and lock on it?"

"That's the way it came," Vonones explained. "I'll have to knock the door loose and put a proper lock

on it before sending it off tomorrow, or those idiots at Rome will wreck a good cage trying to smash it

open, and never a denarius for the damage. I guess the Numidians just didn't have a lock—I'm a little

surprised they even had an iron cage."

Lycon frowned, uncomfortable at the way the beast stared back at him. "It's its eyes," he reflected. "I

wish all my crew looked that bright."

"Or mine," Vonones agreed readily. "Oh, I make no doubt it's more cunning than any brute should be,

but it's scarcely human. Can you see those claws? They're curled back in its palms now, but—there!"

The lizard-ape made a stretching motion, opening its paws—or were they hands? Bones stood

out—slim, but like the limbs themselves hinting at adamantine hardness. The crystalline claws extended

maybe a couple of inches, so sharp that their points seemed to fade into the air. No wild creature should

have claws so delicately kept. The beast's lips twitched a needle-toothed grin.

"Fortune!" Lycon muttered, looking away. There was a glint of bloodlust in those eyes, something

beyond natural savagery. Lycon remembered a centurion whose eyes had held that look—an unassuming

little man who once had killed over a hundred women and children during a raid on a German village.

"What are they going to pit this thing against?" he asked suddenly.

Vonones shrugged. "Can't be sure. The buyer didn't say much except that he didn't like the thing's

looks."

"Can you blame him?"

"So? He's supposed to be running a beast show, not a beauty contest. If he wants pretty things, I should

bring him gazelles. For the arena, I told him, this thing is perfect—a real novelty. But the ass says he

doesn't like the idea of keeping it around until the show, and I have to cut my price to nothing to get him

to take it. Think of it!"

"What's the matter?" Lycon gibed. "Don't tell me that you so dislike its looks that you'll unload it at a

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sacrifice!"

"Hardly!" the dealer protested, defending his business acumen. "Animals are animals, and business is

business. But I've got a hundred other beasts here right now, andthey don't like the thing. Look at this

tiger. All day, all night he's trying to get at it—even broke a tooth on the bars! Must be its scent, because

all the animals hate it. No, I have to get this thing out of my compound."

Lycon considered the enraged tiger. The huge cat had killed one of his men and maimed another for life

before they had him safely caged. But even the tiger's rage at capture paled at the determined fury he

showed toward Vonones' strange find.

"Well, I'll leave you to him, then," the beastcatcher said, giving up on the mystery. "I'm crossing over to

Ostia to see my old mate, Vulpes. Tomorrow I'll be by to pick up my money, so try to stay out of reach

of that thing's claws until then."

"You could have gone on with it," Vulpes told him. "You could have made a fortune in the arena."

Lycon tore off a chunk of bread and sopped it with greasy gravy. "I could have got killed—or crippled

for life."

He immediately regretted his choice of words, but his host only laughed. The tavern owner's left arm was

a stump, and that he walked at all was a testament to the man's fortitude. Lycon had seen him after they

dragged him from the wreck of his chariot. The surgeons doubted Vulpes would last the night, but that

was twenty-five years ago.

"No, it was stupidity that brought me down," Vulpes said. "Or greed. I knew my chances of forcing

through on that turn, but it was that or the race. Well, I was lucky. I lived through it and had enough of

my winnings saved to open a wine shop here in Ostia. I get by.

"But you," and he stabbed a thick finger into Lycon's grey-stubbled face. "You were too good, too

smart. You could have been rich. A few years was all you needed. You were as good with a sword as

any man who's ever set foot in the arena—fast, and you knew how to handle yourself. All those years

you spent against the barbarians seasoned you. Not like these swaggering bullies the crowds dote on

these days—gutless slaves and flashy thugs who learned their trade in dark alleys! Pit a combat-hardened

veteran against this sort of trash, and see whose lauded favorite gets dragged off by his heels!"

Vulpes downed a cup of his wares and glared about the tavern truculently. None of his few customers

was paying attention.

Lycon ruefully watched his host refill their cups with wine and water. He wished his friend would let old

memories lie. Vulpes, he noted, was getting red-faced and paunchy as the wineskins he sold here. Nor,

Lycon mused, running a hand over his close-cropped scalp, was he himself as young as back then. At

least he stayed fit, he told himself—but then, Vulpes could hardly be faulted for inaction.

Tall for a Greek, Lycon had only grown leaner and harder with the years. His face still scowled in

hawk-like intensity; his features resembled seasoned leather stretched tightly over sharp angles. Spirit and

sinew had lost nothing in toughness as Lycon drew closer to fifty, and his men still talked of the voyage of

a few years past when he nursed an injured polar bear on deck, while waves broke over the bow and left

a film of ice as they slipped back.

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Vulpes rumbled on. "But you, my philosophic Greek, found the arena a bore. Just walked away and left

it all. Been skulking around the most forsaken corners of the world for—what is it, more than twenty

years now? Risking your life to haul back savage beasts that barely make your expenses when you sell

them. And you could be living easy in a villa near Rome!"

"Maybe this is what I wanted," Lycon protested. "Besides, I've got Zoe and the kids to come home to in

Rome—maybe not a villa, but we do all right." He tried to push away memories of sand and sweat and

the smell of blood and the sound of death and an ocean's roar of voices howling to watch men die for

their amusement.

Vulpes was scarcely troubling to add water to their wine. "Maybewhat you wanted!" he scoffed. "Well,

whatdo you want, my moody Greek?"

"I'm my own master. Maybe I'm not rich, but I've journeyed to lands Odysseus never dreamed of, and

I've captured stranger beasts than the Huntress ever loosed arrow after."

"Oh, here's to adventure!" mocked Vulpes good-humoredly, thumping his wine cup loudly.

Lycon, reminded of the blue-scaled creature in Vonones' cage, smiled absently.

"I, too, am a philosopher," Vulpes announced loftily. "Wine and sitting on your butt all day make a good

Roman as philosophic as any wander-witted Greek beastcatcher." He raised his cup to Lycon.

"And you, my friend, you have a fascination for the killer trait, a love of deadly things. Deny it as you

will, but it's there. You could have farmed olives, or studied sculpture. But no—it's the army for you, then

the arena, and what next? Are you sick of killing? No, just bored with easy prey. So now you spend

your days outwitting and ensnaring the most savage beasts of all lands!

"You can't get away from your fascination for the killer, friend Lycon. And shall I tell you why? It's

because, no matter how earnestly you deny it, you've got the killer streak in your own soul too."

"Here's to philosophy," toasted Lycon sardonically.

* * *

Lycon had done business with Vonones for many years, and the habitually morose Armenian was among

the handful of men whom the hunter counted as friends. Reasonably honest and certainly shrewd,

Vonones paid with coins of full weight and had been known to add a bonus to the tally when a collector

brought him something exceptional. Still, after a long night of drinking with Vulpes, Lycon was not

pleased when the dealer burst in upon him in the first hour of morning in the room he shared with five

other transients.

"What in the name of the buggering Twins do you mean getting me up at this hour!" Lycon snarled,

surprised to see daylight. "I said I'd come by later for my money."

"No—it's not that!" Vonones moaned, shaking his arm. "Thank the gods I've found you! Come on,

Lycon! You've got to help me!"

Lycon freed his arm and rolled to his feet. Someone cursed and threw a sandal in their direction. "All

right, all right," the hunter yawned. "Let's get out of here and let other people sleep."

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The stairs of the apartment block reeked of garbage and refuse. It reminded Lycon of the stench at

Vonones' animal compound—the sour foulness of too many people living within cramped walls. Beggars

clogged the stairs, living there for want of other shelter. Now and again the manager of the block would

pay a squad of the Watch to pummel them out into the street. Those who could pay for a portion of a

room were little cleaner themselves.

"Damn it, Vonones! What is it!" Lycon protested, as the frantic Armenian took hold of his arm again. He

had never seen Vonones so shaken.

"Outside—I can't. . . . That animal escaped. The sauropithecus."

"Well," Lycon said reasonably. "You said you didn't get much for the thing, so it can't be all that great a

loss. Anyway, what has it to do with me?"

But Vonones set his lips and tugged the hunter down the stairs and out onto the cobbled street, where

eight bearers waited with his litter. He pushed Lycon inside and closed the curtains before speaking in a

low, agitated voice. "I don't dare let word of this get about! Lycon, the beast escaped only a few miles

out of town. It's loose in an estate now—hundreds of those little peasant grainplots, each worked by a

tenant family."

"So?"

"The estate is owned by the Emperor, and that lizard-ape thing killed one of his tenants within minutes of

escaping! You've got to help me recapture it before worse happens!"

"Lady Fortune!" swore Lycon softly, understanding why the loss of the animal had made a trembling

wreck of the dealer. "How did it get loose?"

"That's the worst of it!" Vonones protested, in the tone of someone who knew he would be called a liar.

"It must have unlocked the cage somehow—I checked the fastenings myself before the caravan left. But

nobody will believe that—they'll think I was careless and didn't have the cage locked properly in the first

place. And if our lord and god learns that one of his estates is being ravaged . . ."

"Domitian shows his displeasure in interesting ways," Lycon finished somberly. "Are you sure it isn't

already too late to hush this business up?"

Vonones struggled for composure. "For now it's all right. The steward is no more interested in letting this

get out than I am, knowing the Emperor's temper. But there's a limit to what he can cover up, and. . . . It

won't take very much of what happened to that farmer to exceed that limit. You've got to catch the thing

for me, Lycon!"

"All right," Lycon decided. The sane voice of reason warned that he was plunging into a situation that

might call down Domitian's wrath on all concerned, but his own voice was edged with excitement. "Let's

get out to where the lizard-ape escaped."

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Chapter Two

The caravan was still strung out along the road when they arrived in Vonones' mud-spattered carriage.

There were thirty carts, mostly loaded with only a single cage to avoid fights between the bars. Despite

wind, rain and jostling, the beasts seemed less restive than in the compound. Perhaps there was a reason.

The third cage from the end stood open.

Lycon stepped between a pair of carts—then ducked quickly as a taloned paw ripped through the bars

at him. Disappointed, the huge tiger snarled as he hunched back in his cage.

The hunter glanced to be certain his arm was still in place. "There's one to watch out for," he cautioned

Vonones. "That one was a man-killer when we captured him—and out of preference, not just because he

was lame or too old to take other prey. When they turn him loose in the arena, he'll take on anything in

sight."

"Maybe," muttered Vonones. "But he'd like to start with that lizard-ape. I never saw anything drive every

animal around it to a killing rage the way it does. Maybe it's its scent, but at times I could swear it was

somehow taunting them."

Lycon grunted noncommittally.

"Suppose I should let the rest of the caravan go on?" Vonones suggested. "They're just causing comment

stopped here like this."

Lycon considered. "Why not get them off the road as much as you can and spread out. Don't let them

get too far away though, because I'll need some men for this. Say, there aren't any hunting dogs here, are

there?"

Vonones shook his balding head. "No, I don't often handle dogs. There's a small pack in Ostia for the

local arena though. I know the trainer, and I think I can have them here by noon."

"Better do it, then," Lycon advised. "It's going to be easiest just to run the lizard-ape down and let the

dogs have it. If we can pull them off in time, maybe there'll be enough left for your buyer in Rome."

"Forget the sale," Vonones urged him. "Justget that damned thing!"

But Lycon was studying the lock of the cage. It clearly had not been forced. There were only a few fine

scratches on the wards.

"Any of your men mess with this?"

"Are you serious? They don't like it any better than the animals do."

"Vonones, I think it had to have opened the lock with its claws."

The merchant looked sick.

Twenty feet from the cart were the first footprints of the lizard-ape, sunk deeply into the mud of the

wheat field beside the road. In the black earth their stamp was as ambiguous as the beast itself. More

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摘要：

KillerTableofContentsChapterOneChapterTwoChapterThreeChapterFourChapterFiveChapterSixChapterSevenChapterEightChapterNineChapterTenChapterElevenChapterTwelveChapterThirteenChapterFourteenChapterFifteenChapterSixteenChapterSeventeenChapterEighteenChapterNineteenChapterTwentyChapterTwenty-oneChapterTwe...

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