by ich du
The creatures padded quickly through the snow towards him, their glowing red eyes intent on Jakob. Their attention was drawn away though when a figure appeared at the end of the road. Howling with delight, they bounded forward, hunched over, their weapons glittering with unholy light. Jakob saw that the figure was Kurt, who simply raised a hand as the bloodletters charged towards him, halting them in their tracks. He then pointed back past the bloodletters and said something Jakob could not hear. The bloodletters nodded and turned on their heels and sprinted away, barking and growling with joy.
Jakob was stunned. He knew Kurt was special, marked by the gods, but such power with so little knowledge and training was beyond anything the northman had ever seen or heard about. Kurt looked up to where Jakob was still crouched on the roof, and called out.
'Good, that should keep them busy for a while,' Kurt shouted. 'It's time we dealt with our other problem.'
Jakob nodded and slipped down into the street, running off into the darkness.
THE MEN AHEAD of Marius had no chance. The red, blood-slicked daemons leapt out of the darkness with inhuman speed, their axes and swords scything through the squires and men-at-arms with ease, severing heads and limbs and scattering them across the street in an orgy of destruction. Shouts of terror echoed from the log walls of the houses around them, and Marius stopped, a moment of fear gripping him. Then anger returned.
'See the abominations he unleashes upon us!' he cried out. 'Sigmar give us strength!'
Marius charged forward, ducking beneath an axe blade that would have cleaved him in two, and rammed his sword into the chest of the first bloodletter. It gave a shriek of rage and then exploded in a shower of bloody droplets, spattering Marius and the snow with crimson. Dragging the hammer icon he wore as his badge of office from around his neck, Marius thrust the holy device into the face of the next, his fist exploding with white light which scorched the daemon, causing it to burst into flames that rapidly consumed its magical body. Emboldened by the leadership of the witch hunter, the other men attacked, and though another five fell to the cruel weapons of the Khornate daemons, eventually they managed to banish them back to the otherworldly realm from which they had been summoned. By the end of the fight, Ruprecht was panting hard, his face and furs awash with gore. Marius had an exultant grin splitting his face.
'See how the spawn of the Dark Gods are no match for men of pure faith!' the witch hunter cried out, raising his sword in triumph. 'Mere mortals will bow before our fervour and skill!'
The knights formed up as a bodyguard in front of Marius, advancing warily, with Lord Militant Trevigar at the front of the small column. Ahead there was an open space, the smouldering remnants of a fire at its centre. Just before they reached the square though, Norscans and Kislevites appeared at the windows above them, and on the rooftops. They held jugs and bottles of koidva spirit, and hurled them down onto the knights, who tried to rush forward. One pot splashed over Marius, stinging his eyes, but otherwise not hurting him, and for a moment, he was confused about the purpose of the attack. The plan became all too evident though when burning brands and bottles of burning fuel followed in the next volley. Soon the street was wall to wall with knights screaming and burning as the crude alcohol caught fire, their armour no protection from the flames licking up their legs and arms, melting their skin and setting fire to their hair.
Ruprecht stayed where he was, backing into an empty doorway with Ursula behind him. Marius turned left, leading the remnants of his men, only twenty squires and men-at-arms after the carnage wrought by the bloodletters and firebombs, down the alley between two houses. They came onto a wider road. Waiting for them was Hrolfgar and his ten warriors, shields ready; axes, swords and maces, gripped tightly.
The barbarians charged forwards, screaming their battle cries. The men-at-arms fumbled with their bows and crossbows, but shaken by the earlier attacks and surprised by the ambush, only two of them managed to shoot before the marauders fell upon them, felling one of the Norscan warriors. The fight was going to be short-lived, the battle-hardened northmen would easily chop their way through the unarmoured young men. Marius hacked out a clear path, felling two of the marauders, and raced back to the alley, diving down the dark street, panic gripping his heart. It had all gone wrong, so horribly wrong. Skidding in the snow, he saw Ruprecht and the girl on the opposite side of the street. The enemy on the rooftops had disappeared, there was no one else in sight. The bodies of burning knights were scattered across the road as pools of koidva continued to flicker fitfully with blue fire. There was no way through to the square along that route.
Marius ran across the street and grabbed Ursula, putting his sword point to her throat.
'I know you can see me, Leitzig!' Marius called out, hauling the red-haired girl to her feet. Ruprecht stepped back, his eyes darting around the street uncertainly, his hammer in his hands.
Kurt stepped out from the alley Marius had used to try to circumnavigate the inferno in the street, his sword in his hand, his armour spattered with blood. He walked slowly through the reddened snow, the smoke from the burning knights drifting around him. The crunch of the snow underfoot seemed unnaturally loud, as did the jingling of his chainmail, the crackling of flames and the sighing of the wind.
'Leave the girl,' Kurt said, his voice low but carrying over all other noise.
'Never!' snarled Marius, pricking the skin of Ursula's throat with his sword. 'Another step and she dies.'
'To hell with you!' Ursula shouted, smashing her balled fists into Marius's face and leaping away. Ruprecht grabbed hold of her as she ran past, and the two of them fell to the ground. Kurt advanced slowly, a cruel smile on his lips.
They both attacked without a word, their swords clashing together as they attacked and parried, spinning away from each other and then leaping into the attack. The blows were fast and furious, a silvery weave of blades and ringing metal as they advanced and retreated back and forth across the street. Kurt saw a sudden opening as Marius backed into a building, his retreat stopped. Kurt thrust his sword forward with all his might, skewering Marius's right shoulder and ramming into the log of the cabin behind him, jarring the witch hunter's sword from his grasp.
'Kill me then, hellspawn!' spat Marius. 'Cut my damn head off if you wish.'
'I have something better in mind than that,' Kurt said, grinning wolfishly. 'I want you know the pain you brought to my family and the gods know how many other innocents.'
Kurt exerted his will, feeling the power inside himself. He could sense the burning fires of magic inside his veins and let it run free, coursing through his body. With a thought, he let it extend out through his fingertips, and it enveloped the sword as if it was an extension of Kurt's body.
'Burn!' Kurt spat, and the sword burst into flames, which caught on the koidva already soaking the witch hunter's coat so that he exploded into a raging blaze. Marius's death screams echoed along the streets, then the town was silent except for the crackling of the flames.
Kurt stepped back, his sword still in the witch hunter, and looked at Ruprecht.
'You're the last one,' Kurt said, stalking forwards, his fingers flexing. He grabbed Ursula and pulled her aside, and Ruprecht slammed a blow with his hammer into Kurt's midriff, but it barely halted the warrior of Chaos.
Contemptuously, he grabbed the haft of the hammer in one hand, twisted it from Ruprecht's grasp and then jabbed it into the warrior's chest, knocking him to the ground. Discarding the hammer, he advanced again, wanting to finish this with his bare hands. He grabbed Ruprecht by the throat, the big man's punches not even distracting him, and hauled him to his feet.
Suddenly pain exploded in the back of Kurt's head and he pitched forward, his vision swimming. Letting go of Ruprecht, he fell to his knees, dizzy. Glancing back, through ill-focussed eyes he could make out Ursula, Ruprecht's hammer in her hands.
'You're a monster!' she screamed, smashing the hammer into his face, hurling him to his back. 'You killed the m
an I loved.'
There was movement behind her as Hrolfgar and his men moved into the street. Ruprecht pushed himself to his feet and grabbed Ursula.
'Come on, we have to get out of here!' he told her, dragging her away. The two turned and ran down the street, disappearing into the flames and smoke clouds as Hrolfgar sprinted over to Kurt.
'Shall we go after them?' the chieftain asked, looking up at the retreating shadows.
'Leave them be, there'll be time enough later,' Kurt said, rubbing at his head, his own blood staining his hand.
TREVIGAR WAS PANTING hard: sweat slicked his forehead and his heart hammered into his chest. His armour felt even heavier than it should as he ran down the flame-lit street, his eyes darting from side to side looking for signs of the foe. There were none that he could see, and he stopped for a moment to catch his breath.
It had all gone disastrously wrong. The impetuous attack of the witch hunter had seen three dozen of his knights killed. He had only escaped the fiery ambush by smashing his way through a door and fleeing through a window at the opposite side of the cabin. Separated, he had decided there was nothing he could do but get back to the camp and warn the few men left there as guards to pack up and leave. Leitzig would not pursue them, he was sure. No, the ex-Osterknacht's vengeance would be sated if he was not killed by Marius.
And perhaps Marius might win. After all, Trevigar had seen van Diesl battling against the daemons of the blood god and he had been a fearsome warrior, stronger and faster than his age would suggest. Feeling slightly more encouraged, he decided he would go back to the camp, muster the men to leave but remain close by in case the witch hunter returned triumphantly. As he settled on this course of action, the sound of crunching snow caught his attention. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a figure walking through the smoke, carrying a bow with arrow nocked. At first, it looked like one of the men-at-arms.
'Who's there?' Trevigar called out, straightening up and brandishing his sword with what strength he had left.
'Your humble servant, lord militant,' a strangely-accented voice called back.
'Name yourself.' Trevigar said, lowering his sword slightly. He vaguely recognised the man who walked out of the gloom. He was middle-aged, his face thin and worn and long moustaches drooped past his chin. He was dressed in furs, a small pack over one shoulder and tied with a belt hung with a variety of pouches.
'Who are you? One of the Kislevite guides?' Trevigar asked again, slightly perturbed at the man's appearance.
'Not Kislevite.' the man said with a vicious smile, raising his bow. Trevigar opened his mouth to shout just as Jakob loosed his arrow, which flew straight at the knight, its point glittering in the firelight. The arrow took the lord militant just below the chin, in the gap between his helmet and chest plate, punching through his mail coif and pitching him backwards. Blood gurgled up into his throat, choking him to death, as Jakob turned away and disappeared back into the night.
KURT STOOD ON the snow-covered hill and watched the burning ruins of Tungask collapsing to the ground. The Kislevites of the town were already heading southwards to other settlements. The Norse stood with him and Jakob, along with Hrolfgar and his men, ready for the journey north. Around him, the flaming remnants of van Diesl's camp whirled into the sky on columns of thick smoke.
'What do we do now?' Jakob asked, seeing the faraway gaze in his master's eyes. 'Do you want to go after her?'
Kurt didn't reply straight away, staring into the distance, his mind elsewhere. With a blink, he looked at Jakob as if seeing him for the first time.
'Yes.' he said. 'But not yet. I will go north and fulfil my pact with the gods. Then I will return at the head of an army, and I will raze the whole Empire until I see her head on a pole.'
Jakob smiled to himself. He would be going home soon.
Scanned, layouted and proof-read by Mon
Version 1.2
Índice
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
