01 - Death's Messenger

by Sandy Mitchell - (ebook by Undead)

  They reached the patch of woodland as dusk was beginning to fall. Rudi was pleased to note that it was more extensive than he’d realised. As they made their way between the sheltering tree trunks he felt his spirits lift a little, and he took comfort from the familiarity of the environment.

  “This’ll do,” he said, breaking through into a small clearing. Hanna looked about her with undisguised horror.

  “Here?” She stared at the ground. “Where will we sleep?”

  “Over there,” Rudi pointed. “That patch of moss. It’s springy. Surprisingly comfortable.” Hanna peered through the gloom, clearly unconvinced.

  “It’s cold, too. I don’t suppose you picked up any blankets, did you?”

  “No.” He couldn’t believe he’d left them behind. His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, I…”

  “Had other things on your mind. I know.” Hanna dropped her satchel and collapsed on the patch of moss. “I didn’t think of it either,” she sniffed, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “How did this happen to us? It’s not fair!”

  “I know.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “But we’ll get through this, I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Hanna looked up at him, her face a pale blur in the darkness. Her eyes were deep pits of shadow, and for some reason Rudi found himself shuddering. “But you’re right. We’ll survive and grow strong. We’ve got something to live for.”

  “We do?” Rudi had meant to sound affirming and supportive, but a treacherous tone of confusion had entered his voice. Hanna nodded.

  “Gerhard,” she said flatly.

  “I never want to see him again,” Rudi replied. He had no doubt that the witch hunter would be an implacable enemy, but the Empire was a big place, and if they just kept moving they should be able to stay ahead of him. If they made it to Marienburg they might even take a ship to another land entirely.

  “I do,” Hanna said. Her voice took on a quality Rudi had never heard before. “I don’t care how long it takes, but one day, when I’m ready, I’m going to find him and kill him for what he did to my mother.”

  Rudi didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Hanna lapsed into silence too. After a long pause, during which the light faded even further, he cleared his throat.

  “I’ve seen some rabbit droppings. I’m going to set a few snares before the light goes.” Hanna didn’t respond. He persisted. “If you could find some firewood that would be good.” She didn’t move or speak, so after a moment he added, “Fine then. I won’t be long,” and left the clearing.

  In truth he was longer than he expected. Finding the game paths in the unfamiliar woodland took a little longer than he was used to, and his fingers, usually so dextrous, fumbled with the snares. Hardly surprising, he supposed, under the circumstances.

  It was with a profound sense of relief that he returned to the clearing to find a fire crackling cheerfully in a circle of stones. Hanna was toasting the remaining bread on the point of a stick. She smiled wanly at him when he reappeared, and crouched down beside the flickering flames.

  “You’ve been busy,” he said. She nodded.

  “Better than brooding, don’t you think?” The hunk of bread was turning crisp now, filling the clearing with an appetising aroma. She spiked the cheese onto the stick too, and it began to bubble and melt. He nodded, his mouth flooding with saliva. “We need to split this up.”

  “No problem.” Rudi reached into his pack for the knife, pushing aside his tinderbox and the unused snares to reach it. “That smells good.”

  “Better make the most of it.” She divided the food as evenly as she could, and handed the weapon back to him. “There’s just dried meat and apples left now.”

  The heat had softened the bread, and warmed it beneath the toasted crust, and the cheese, though strong, tasted better that way too. Even the faint taste of woodsmoke made it more appetising. Rudi supposed pretty much anything would have tasted good that night, given how empty his stomach was. The morsels disappeared in a couple of bites, taking the edge off his hunger, reducing it to a dull, nagging discomfort. After some consideration he cut one of the apples in half, and shared it with Hanna. They even devoured the core and the pips.

  By this time night had fallen completely, and the clearing was in darkness. The light from the fire enclosed them in a little bubble of warm illumination. By unspoken agreement they moved closer together until their shoulders touched, to conserve their body heat. As the warmth of the food and the cosy pressure of Hanna’s arm against him began to mingle with the drowsiness that comes from complete exhaustion, Rudi felt a sense of unexpected well-being suffuse his body. Abruptly Hanna yawned, and a moment later his own jaw gaped in response.

  “We need to sleep,” she said.

  “You’re right.” Rudi banked up the fire to a roaring blaze, which pushed the circle of firelight out to the limits of the clearing. He looked at the remaining stock of brushwood Hanna had collected. “Do you think this will last until the morning?”

  “Easily,” she replied, rolling over onto the pad of moss, and pillowing her head on her satchel. Rudi wasn’t so sure, but the thought of going to look for more seemed an insuperable effort. He lay down beside her, their backs touching. He had made sure his bow was next to his hand, with an arrow already nocked.

  The night was long and uneasy. Unused to sleeping out of doors Hanna stirred fretfully at every sound, which would jolt Rudi awake. Then she would lapse into another light doze. Because he could identify most of the rustlings and scurryings Rudi felt no sense of threat, but the makeshift mattress grew more uncomfortable as the night wore on, so he tossed and turned uneasily for a while before drifting back into slumber. On each occasion he opened his eyes to make sure the fire was still burning, then he tried to settle again.

  Once he woke at the sound of something unfamiliar; he was unable to place it. Hanna, surprisingly, was still asleep. After straining his ears to pick up the elusive sound over her snoring, he gave up. As he rested his head back on his arm it came again, a faint ululation in the distance. His skin prickled. Wolves. But they were a long way away, and surely no threat. Nevertheless he rose, and added more fuel to the fire, before he dared settle again.

  They woke at dawn, stiff, and more tired if anything than they were before they slept. Rudi staggered to the stream and dunked his head in the cold water. The shock of it jerked him back to full consciousness.

  “Did you sleep well?” Hanna yawned, her eyes puffy with fatigue. She sat up.

  “I’ve had better nights,” he admitted. She got to her feet, and began walking towards the edge of the clearing. “Where are you going?”

  “Where do you think?” she responded tartly, disappearing behind a large bush.

  “Oh. Right.” Come to think of it, that seemed like a pretty good idea. He was just glancing round for a bush of his own when he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Slowly he turned, bringing whatever it was to the middle of his field of vision.

  His blood turned the temperature of the stream water. Padding through the bushes was the largest wolf he’d ever seen. Come to that it was the only one he’d seen that wasn’t already dead. Feeling his eyes on it, the wolf raised its head, pulling back its lips to reveal sharp white teeth. A low growl rumbled in its chest.

  “Hanna!” His voice strangled in his throat. “Whatever you do, don’t move!”

  “What?” she called, and the wolf’s head turned, its nostrils flaring. Rudi began to inch back towards the patch of moss, and the bow he’d left there. The animal turned back towards him, and he froze. Their eyes locked.

  “What did you say?” Hanna called again, a tone of impatience entering her voice. She began to emerge from the undergrowth. The wolf’s head snapped round again, and it began to move forward.

  “For the love of Sigmar!” Rudi began to run, hoping to distract it, but the wolf had made up its mind and began loping towards Hanna. She ducked, picking
up a stone, and threw it. The makeshift missile flew wide, but the brief distraction it afforded was all Rudi needed to pick up the bow. He drew it in a single fluid motion and let fly in the general direction of the charging predator. With no time to even consider aiming, and a moving target to shoot at to boot, he didn’t expect to come close to it, but hoped vaguely that it might be intimidated into abandoning its attack.

  To his astonishment the wolf yelped and pitched forward, tumbling like an inelegant furry acrobat to land close to Hanna’s feet. She gazed at the spasming animal with horror, relief, and revulsion. His arrow had transfixed its neck and punched through the major artery. A bright spray of blood dappled the green leaves of the bushes and trees.

  “Thank you.” She hurried away from it, her face white with shock. “I had no idea you could shoot like that.”

  “Neither did I.” He nocked another shaft and advanced cautiously. So that’s what Gunther had tried so hard to teach him. The shot had seemed so fluid and natural, in total contrast to the ones he’d taken when he concentrated. The wolf was barely breathing now, its lifeblood all but drained, so he returned the second arrow to its quiver.

  “What are you going to do?” Hanna asked, as he put the weapon down and took his knife out of his pack.

  “I’m going to skin it.” The animal had stopped moving altogether now and its eyes had become filmy. As he watched a final breath ripped from its body, and after one final shudder it was still. “There’s a bounty on wolf pelts, remember?”

  “And you’re going to march up to a magistrate and say, ‘I’m a fugitive wanted for heresy. By the way here’s a wolf pelt can I have my five coppers please?’” Despite her tone she had a point, he supposed. He shrugged.

  “Maybe we can trade it for something.”

  “Maybe,” Hanna conceded. Her tone became a little more conciliatory. “Sorry, I’m always a bit cranky before breakfast. Even more so when an overgrown hearthrug tries to bite my face off.”

  “That’s all right,” Rudi replied, approaching the corpse. Something caught his eye, and he motioned the girl forward. “What do you make of this?”

  “I don’t know.” She craned her neck to look, without getting any closer than she needed to. “It looks like something’s been tied to it.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Rudi turned the creature over, finding it larger and heavier than he’d expected. It was almost as long as he was tall, so he had to exert all of his strength to move it. Something had been tied to the wolfs back with stout cords, a long thin tubular package. “It looks like a bedroll…” He cut the cords, and unrolled a couple of blankets of no discernable colour which smelled rank and sour.

  “That’s ridiculous.” Hanna stared at them incredulously. “Who on earth would tie a bedroll to a wolf?”

  “Its rider,” Rudi said, vividly remembering some of Littman’s tavern tales. “A goblin.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Skinning the dead wolf took a lot longer than Rudi had anticipated. He knew what to do, but the carcass was far larger than anything he’d ever handled before. By the time he was finished he was sweating from the exertion, and his arms were caked in blood up to the elbows. He rolled the heavy pelt into the stream to get it as clean as possible, and jumped in after it.

  “Hey!” Hanna flinched away from the splash, and wiped the sprinkling of water from her face. “Watch what you’re doing!” She was teasing rather than reproving though, and she watched him scrub the gore from his skin with an expression of tolerant amusement. “Do you always take a bath with your clothes on?”

  “Saves time with the laundry,” Rudi replied, ducking his head under the fast-flowing water. He shook his head, which forced her to retreat from the shower with another squeal of exasperation. “Besides, there’s your reputation to consider.”

  “How very gallant.” The light tone left her voice. “Although there’s precious little of that left now.”

  “Only in Kohlstadt.” Rudi gestured expansively at the landscape surrounding them. “And it’s a big world. Gerhard and his lies won’t travel far.”

  “I hope so.” Hanna went back to scrubbing the blankets they’d taken from the wolf. They looked no cleaner than before, but at least the smell was less noticeable. Rudi waded out of the water, and retrieved his pack.

  “I won’t be a moment,” he said, finding a bush to hide behind. He stripped off the sodden shirt and breeches, and exchanged them for the clean ones from his pack. He felt invigorated for the first time in days.

  “That’s as good as they’re going to get.” Hanna eyed the blankets critically, and hung them over a branch next to the fire. It had burned low during the night, but the core of embers still glowed, throwing out a fair amount of heat. Rudi hung his wet clothes next to them, and retrieved the pelt.

  “You should take a swim,” he suggested. “Freshen up a bit…”

  “So you can get a good eyeful?” Hanna asked scornfully. “I don’t think so. I saw you staring at my legs yesterday.”

  “I wasn’t!” The unfairness of the accusation threw him completely. “I just meant…” He shrugged, at a loss for words. “Do what you like. I’m going to check the snares.”

  He strode off, seething, his momentary flash of contentment now a distant memory. The girl was impossible! Perhaps when they reached Marienburg they should go their separate ways. It wasn’t as if they had anything in common, really, beyond their immediate predicament.

  His mood improved a little when he discovered that three of the snares held rabbits; the second was still twitching. He snapped its neck before retrieving the simple trap and returning it to the pouch on his belt. The familiarity of the routine was comforting, and by the time he returned to the makeshift campsite with the coneys hanging from their accustomed place at his side he was almost cheerful again.

  “How did you do?” Hanna asked. Her hair was damp, but he refrained from any pointed comments about her bathing in his absence, mainly because he couldn’t think of any. He held out the furry corpses.

  “Well enough. These will last a couple of days if we cook them first.” He began skinning them, and spilled their little cargo of entrails into the fire where they hissed and popped.

  “Good.” Hanna indicated a small cloth-wrapped bundle. “I found a few edible plants too. Not exactly a banquet, but at least we won’t starve.”

  The odour of cooking meat was almost a torture to Rudi’s empty stomach, but after what seemed like a lifetime the rabbits were done, and the two companions tore into them with an enthusiasm which would have drawn a sharp intake of breath around most of the dinner tables of Kohlstadt. Rudi gave up the idea of rationing for the time being; there were plenty more rabbits where these had come from and they had a lot of hard walking ahead of them. It was best to replenish as much energy as they could.

  Soon their stomachs were comfortably full for the first time since fleeing the village and they still had the third rabbit left for later. They gathered their possessions together and set out along the stream again. By this time the morning was well advanced, but there seemed no point in hurrying. Rudi was acutely aware that for the first time in his life he was travelling through terrain he didn’t know, so he was determined to be cautious. After all, the wolf came from somewhere, so it was a reasonable guess that its rider would be somewhere in the vicinity too.

  They reached the far border of the patch of woodland without further incident, shortly after the sun had passed its zenith and was casting shadows behind and to the left of them rather than ahead.

  Rudi hesitated, looking out over what seemed like miles of open moor. The stream still hurried on beside them, disappearing into the distance, a thread of silver among the greens, browns, and occasional patches of vivid purple, white, or yellow wildflowers. Though he knew they had to go on, he felt uneasy with the unfamiliar terrain.

  “It’s beautiful,” Hanna said beside him. Rudi glanced at her, surprised, and then back at the scene of desolation before the
m. It had a kind of grandeur, he supposed, but the open sky, speckled with a few wisps of cloud, seemed huge and threatening.

  “We’d better take some firewood with us,” he said. “No telling what’s out there to burn.”

  “Looks like plenty of brush and scrub,” Hanna said, but not forcefully enough to constitute a serious difference of opinion. “Might be a good idea to take a few logs with us if we can find some.”

  They turned aside from the bank and moved off a little deeper into the wood, paralleling the boundary of the copse. Out here on the fringes the going was easy, and Rudi was surprised at how little brushwood was left lying on the ground.

  “You’d think we’d have found more than this,” Hanna said after some time, staring at the meagre collection of sticks they’d managed to amass.

  “Someone’s been here ahead of us,” Rudi said. He pointed to a booted footprint. “Picked the area clean.”

  “There must have been quite a few of them,” Hanna said quietly. Rudi nodded.

  “I think we’d better go.” The more he looked the more footprints he could see, milling around in confusion, until it was impossible to tell which direction they’d approached or left from. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. That meant whichever path they chose to take ran an equal risk of running into whoever had left them. Or whatever… There was something about the size and spacing of the prints that wasn’t quite right. A few moments later his suspicions were confirmed by the impression of a large canine footpad. “I think these are goblin tracks.”

  “You think?” Hanna asked, a little nervously. “Don’t you know?”

  “I’ve never seen any before,” Rudi replied, trying to keep his voice low. His father had spoken about goblins and their habits a few times, and Littman had been full of stories about the ones he’d battled, but try as he might he couldn’t recall much useful information. They were slightly smaller than humans on average, he remembered, but vicious and cunning. They preferred to rely on ambush or vastly superior numbers when facing a foe.