by Warhammer
A few minutes later, as if to change the subject, Gotrek turned to Felix. ‘What happened to the squire, manling? I was fighting the knights and didn’t see.’
‘He changed,’ said Felix. ‘Along with the rest.’
‘Did you slay him?’
Felix shook his head. ‘I… I didn’t have the heart.’
‘It would have been kinder if you had.’
Felix sighed. He knew it was the truth. If the boy retained even a small portion of his mind, the life of a beastman would be torture to his Sigmarite soul. The thought brought Felix up short, for suddenly, with a sickening sinking of his stomach, he knew that the templars of the Order of the Fiery Heart had not died at the hands of the beastmen like Ortwin had thought. They had become beastmen themselves. The beastman that Ortwin had killed, who had worn the breastplate with the insignia of the order upon it, had not stolen it, it had been his all along.
‘The templars didn’t die, did they?’ he said after a moment.
Gotrek shook his head. ‘No, manling. But if we find them, I will give them peace.’
Felix nodded in agreement. It was the best that they could do for them. Next time he would not falter.
But as they continued on, a new thought gave Felix pause. How many of the massive herd had once been human? How many had been changed into monsters by the light flashing from the shaman’s herdstone? The reports of empty villages that the soldier at Stangenschloss had spoken of – had the people all been slain? Had they all fled? Or had they changed as the blue light caught them, and followed obediently in the shaman’s wake?
He shivered with fear. How could an army stand against such a thing? They might charge the herd as knights and spearmen and greatswords, but before they reached them, the blue light would sear their eyes and they would fall twisting and screaming, only to rise again as beastmen and turn on their fellows. It was something out of a nightmare, and if the nightmare were true, then Stangenschloss would be lost – and every village and town between it and the Talabec. Could even Talabheim or Altdorf repel such a threat? The wizards of the colleges would have to be mustered at once and the stone destroyed, before the herd numbered not thousands, but tens of thousands.
He slogged on, numb with the horror of it.
On the second day, they came to the place where the herd had been when the snowstorm had stopped, and they found the snow on the path trampled to a blackened inch-thick crust that made travel easier. Felix again became afraid that they would catch up to the beastmen and that the Slayers would do something rash, but on the morning of the second day they woke to their tents being ripped from the ground by another screaming gale, and the snow came down heavier than ever, once again blotting out the trail.
Felix began to wonder why he had ever longed to return to the land of his birth.
Out of the blue on the morning of the fourth day, as they were making their slow way through an area of enormous oaks with the wind still blowing snow in their faces, Snorri chuckled and said, ‘This reminds Snorri of fighting beastmen in the snow with his old friends Gotrek and Felix.’
Felix looked to Gotrek at this, and saw him wince.
‘Snorri,’ said Felix. ‘We are your old friends Gotrek and Felix.’
Snorri looked at Felix with a puzzled frown, then smiled. ‘Snorri knows that,’ he said. ‘But this was before. Snorri and Gotrek and Felix and their friend Max had just killed a vampire and then they were attacked by beastmen in the snow. Then Gotrek and Felix went through the door and never came back.’
‘Snorri, listen to me,’ said Felix, losing patience. Why couldn’t the old Slayer make the connection between then and now?
‘There’s no use telling him,’ said Rodi. ‘Poor Father Rustskull is a few bricks shy of a–’
‘What happened after that, Nosebiter?’ Gotrek interrupted. ‘Where did you go?’
‘Max and Snorri went back to Praag to fight the hordes of I-can’t-remember-his-name,’ said Snorri. ‘But the cowards ran away as soon as they got there.’ He paused. ‘After that… After that…’
‘After that you went beastman hunting with someone named Rag Neck Ruchendorf,’ said Rodi impatiently. ‘And killed a beast-lord in the forests of Ostermark.’
‘Aye, that’s right,’ said Snorri. ‘Now Snorri remembers.’
Felix looked at Rodi. ‘You were there?’
‘Nah,’ said Rodi. ‘But he’s told it before. Sometimes he remembers. Sometimes he doesn’t.’
‘Rag Neck was a good man,’ said Snorri, his eyes faraway. ‘Drank almost as much as Snorri, which Snorri thinks is pretty good for a human.’ The old Slayer laughed. ‘He made a contest with Snorri. Told him if he could take as many beastman heads as all of his men together he would give Snorri a keg of Karak Norn ale. Snorri killed ninety beastmen in three days – some big ones too – and won by fifteen kills!’ He smiled.
‘You still don’t see it,’ Rodi sighed. ‘Your friend Rag Neck must have been collecting bounty for those heads. He robbed you of your share and fobbed you off with beer.’
‘It was good beer,’ protested Snorri.
Rodi shook his head, giving up.
‘And after that?’ asked Gotrek.
Snorri’s heavy brows pulled together thoughtfully. ‘Snorri was many places after that, slaying many things – orcs, beastmen, trolls, skaven. He even fought a dragon once, with his friends Gotrek and Felix.’
‘No,’ said Felix. ‘That was before.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Snorri. ‘That was before.’
He seemed troubled by that for a moment, then laughed uproariously. ‘Did Snorri ever tell you about the time he was put in jail for killing beastmen?’
‘Yes,’ said Rodi grimly.
‘No,’ said Gotrek and Felix.
Snorri laughed again, then scratched among the nails of his crest and continued. ‘Snorri was in some town of men – he can’t remember the name. He and some others had been hired by the townsfolk to protect them from beastmen, and he had killed many. The night after he had driven the beastmen away, Snorri went to have a drink, then after ten or twenty beers he decided to go back to the army camp, which was in a field outside the village. On the way, Snorri saw a whole herd of beastmen standing in a meadow, looking towards the village. Snorri realised that the treacherous beastmen had come back, so he took out his axe and slew them all. Snorri took more than fifty heads that night.’
That sounded like an exaggeration to Felix. Still, it might have been twenty. ‘But why did they arrest you for that?’ he asked. ‘Surely you had done them a great service.’
Snorri snorted. ‘The mayor of the town told Snorri that they hadn’t been beastmen, but cows, and put him in jail.’ Snorri laughed. ‘If they had been cows, then why would Snorri have slain them? There is no glory in slaying cows.’
‘They were cows, you cloth-head,’ said Rodi. ‘They must have been. And you’re lucky the mayor didn’t hang you. You robbed the people of all their milk and meat. Half the town probably went hungry that winter because of you.’
Snorri shook his head. ‘Snorri is pretty sure they were beastmen.’
Felix saw Gotrek shake his head at this, but he said nothing.
‘So you’ve been fighting orcs and beastmen and trolls for twenty years and still haven’t found your doom,’ said Felix. It seemed amazing to him, but then, Gotrek had been fighting orcs and beastmen and trolls for twenty years, and he hadn’t found his doom either.
Snorri nodded slowly. ‘Snorri is sad about that. He has met many Slayers, and they have all found their dooms, but Snorri has never found his.’ He glared around at the woods with uncharacteristic anger. ‘Snorri thinks it is the old lady’s fault.’
Felix and Gotrek exchanged a look at this, then looked to Rodi. The young Slayer shrugged and rolled his eyes.
‘What old lady?’ asked Gotrek.
‘Snorri saved an old lady in the woods,’ said Snorri. ‘Spiders were attacking her. Big spiders, like the goblins ride. Snorr
i killed them all, but they bit him many times, and he got dizzy and couldn’t walk. The lady took him to her house – Snorri thinks she lived in a tree – and she fed him and gave him terrible-tasting beer.’ His brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Snorri thinks he was there for a long time, but he can’t remember, but when he left, the lady told him that he should have died from the spider bites. She said she gave him some medicines, but she was too late, and he should have died.’
‘Well, she was obviously wrong, wasn’t she?’ said Felix.
Snorri nodded. ‘Snorri wishes she would have been wronger. She said she looked at Snorri’s stars and saw that he would not meet his doom for many years. She said Snorri had a great destiny.’ He snorted, his anger returning. ‘Snorri thinks the lady cursed him. Snorri thinks her stars have stopped him from finding his doom.’
Felix blinked at this. Snorri Nosebiter had a great destiny? Who would have thought it?
‘Human nonsense,’ said Rodi.
‘Snorri wishes it was,’ said Snorri. ‘He has tried to prove her wrong many times, but he is still alive. Snorri is very angry with that lady.’
Gotrek frowned deeply at this.
Felix thought about trying to explain to Snorri that foretelling didn’t work like that, and that he had it the wrong way around, but if the old Slayer still believed that a herd of cows had been a herd of beastmen, the nuances of prophecy would undoubtedly be lost on him.
‘Did the old lady say what this destiny was?’ asked Gotrek.
‘No,’ said Snorri. ‘But Snorri hopes it doesn’t come soon.’
Gotrek turned, fixing Snorri with a hard stare. ‘What? Why is that? Do you no longer seek your doom?’
A look of shame came upon Snorri’s ugly face. He hung his head. ‘Snorri shouldn’t have said anything.’
Gotrek stopped walking and faced the old Slayer, his one eye boring into him like an auger. ‘Snorri Nosebiter, if you have renounced your vow to Grimnir, we will no longer walk together.’
‘It isn’t that, Gurnisson,’ said Rodi. ‘He–’
Gotrek held up a hand. ‘I would hear it from his own mouth.’
Snorri continued to stare at the ground, a look of such lugubrious misery on his face that it was almost comic. ‘Snorri has a great shame,’ he said at last. ‘A new great shame.’
‘What shame is this?’ growled Gotrek.
‘Snorri…’ The old Slayer swallowed, then continued. ‘Snorri has forgotten why he became a Slayer.’
TWELVE
Gotrek blinked, a look of blank shock on his hard face. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Snorri doesn’t know,’ said Snorri. ‘He tried to remember after the fighting at Middenheim but nothing came to his mind. There was nothing there.’
‘Too many nails in the head,’ muttered Rodi under his breath.
‘It’s shameful for a Slayer to forget his shame?’ asked Felix, confused.
‘It is worse than shameful, manling,’ said Gotrek, not taking his eye off Snorri. ‘It is a crime against Grimnir.’ He sighed. ‘A dwarf becomes a Slayer to atone for a great shame. If he forgets that shame, then he cannot atone for it. If he dies without remembering, he will not be admitted into Grimnir’s halls. He will have no peace in death.’
It took a moment for the immensity of Snorri’s plight to sink in, but then Felix saw that it was a terrible thing, the equivalent of a devout follower of Sigmar discovering that he was growing a tentacle or a third eye. Snorri was being denied salvation and forgiveness.
‘Snorri is making a pilgrimage to Karak Kadrin,’ said Snorri. ‘To pray at the Shrine of Grimnir. He will ask Grimnir to give him his memory back so he can have his doom.’
Gotrek nodded. ‘That is the right thing to do, Snorri Nosebiter. May Grimnir grant your boon.’
‘But if you are afraid to meet your doom before you get your memory back,’ said Felix as a thought came to him, ‘why are you still fighting? Isn’t it a terrible risk?’
Snorri shrugged. ‘The old lady said that Snorri had a destiny, so he is safe until he finds it. And also,’ he grinned, sheepish, ‘when there are things to slay, Snorri gets excited and forgets that he has forgotten.’
‘Forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his shoulders,’ said Rodi.
Gotrek shot the young Slayer a hard look, then turned and started shouldering through the snow again. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We have a long road ahead of us.’
A while later, when Rodi and Snorri had fallen a little bit behind, Felix turned to Gotrek and lowered his voice.
‘Gotrek, don’t you know why Snorri became a Slayer?’ he asked. ‘Couldn’t you tell him and relieve him of his misery?’
Gotrek shook his head. ‘A Slayer does not tell of his shame,’ he said. ‘Not even to another Slayer. He has not told me. And even if I did know, I would not tell him.’
‘Sigmar, why not?’
‘It is a Slayer’s responsibility to keep his shame firmly in mind,’ Gotrek rumbled. ‘If Snorri Nosebiter has forgotten his, then it is his burden to bear, and his problem to solve. To tell him would be as wrong as killing him to give him his doom. There is no easy path to Grimnir’s hall.’
Felix thought this was cruel and unfair, but then, much of what passed for dwarf philosophy seemed harsh to him. He sighed and pushed on, suddenly depressed. Poor Snorri. He had never expected to feel sorry for the happy-go-lucky old Slayer – he hadn’t really thought Snorri had the capacity for sadness – but it seemed that the grimness of the Old World was great enough to touch even the most oblivious. It was too bad.
On the fifth day, the second storm cleared off, and by the middle of the sixth day they came again to flattened snow, which told them that the herd was no more than a day ahead. Felix began to worry about Stangenschloss. Even if Kat had made it in time to warn them, what could the fort do to prepare for the oncoming herd? Would the soldiers abandon it? Would they send south for a wizard? Would they hope that the herd would pass them by? Would they even believe Kat’s story?
In the late afternoon of the seventh day, they saw the first signs of battle – a soldier’s helmet tossed to one side, a trail of red in the snow, the scattered skeleton of a horse, scraps of meat still sticking to its bones. A little further on they found a headless corpse wearing the uniform of Ilgner’s company. After that, the Slayers readied their weapons and went more cautiously. Felix did the same. The herd might be just around the next bend, or the one after that.
An hour later, as the setting sun was turning the snow as red as the spilled blood, they came to the fort at last. The beastmen’s trail led right to it, entering the cleared fields that surrounded it from the rear.
Felix and the Slayers paused before stepping out into the open area and surveyed the fort. The walls still stood, and there was no column of smoke rising from it, but there were also no signs of life – no glint of helmets from the walls, no kitchen smoke, no sound.
‘Have they deserted it?’ asked Felix.
‘We’ll see,’ said Gotrek.
They started around the edge of the clearing, keeping within the tree line. The ground along the side of the fort was littered with a score of dead beastmen, all with arrows sticking from them, but no other signs of a battle. The walls were undamaged, and there were no dead soldiers.
Felix began to wonder if the herd had tramped past and not bothered to assault the fort, but when they could see around the corner tower, his heart sank, capsized with a flood of dread. The gates were wide open and no sentries stood before them.
‘Look,’ said Rodi.
Felix turned and followed his gaze with the others. On the far side of the cleared fields, a gap had been cut in the forest, just like the one they had entered from.
‘The beastmen have moved on,’ said the young Slayer.
‘But have they taken the garrison with them?’ asked Gotrek.
Panic surged in Felix’s chest. ‘Kat,’ he said, and he had to forcibly hold himself from racing towards the fort to
look for her. If she were dead or changed it would have happened hours, maybe days ago. No mad charge now could change it.
He and the Slayers crept warily towards the entrance, passing more arrow-studded beastmen as they went, and eyeing the battlements every step of the way. No arrows came from them, however, nor any spears or stones or shouted challenges.
Finally they reached the open gates and looked in. The courtyard was still and silent, but only because it was too cold for there to be flies. There were corpses everywhere – men and beastmen all hacked to gory pieces, some still locked in the struggle that had killed them, and bright blood mottling the snow between them like red islands in a frozen sea.
‘Snorri missed a fight,’ said Snorri.
‘Not much of one,’ said Rodi. ‘There are barely a score of men dead here.’
‘Two score,’ said Gotrek.
Rodi snorted. ‘Your eye is failing you, Gurnisson. I don’t count more than–’
‘Look at the beastmen,’ said Gotrek. ‘They wear the same uniform as the men they fought.’
Rodi turned and Felix followed his gaze. It was true, all the beastmen in the yard wore torn jerkins and dented breastplates, all marked with Ilgner’s colours and device.
‘The stone,’ Felix groaned.
‘Aye,’ said Gotrek. ‘It has done its evil work.’
Felix thought again of Kat and this time he could not restrain himself. ‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘I must…’ and he ran off across the courtyard.
‘Manling,’ barked Gotrek. ‘Wait.’
Felix hurried on, ignoring him, and looking fearfully at each beastman he passed to see if it wore a scarf and a hat and a heavy coat of wool.
As he turned the corner into the stable yard he saw a little figure in silhouette kneeling over a corpse and his heart gave a great leap, but then he saw that it was a boy, dressed in peasant rags, and that he was tugging at the rings on the hand of a dead knight.
