Blackhearts: The Omnibus

by Nathan Long

  A searing pain erupted in his back. Something sharp ground between his ribs. He shrieked and dropped the banner. The here-and-now snapped back around him. Magda was drawing back her stiletto to stab him again. He backhanded her across the mouth. She fell on top of the banner.

  Hissing in pain, Reiner turned, raising his sword, ‘You should have cut my throat, sister.’

  ‘Stand, villain!’

  Reiner looked over his shoulder. Albrecht had returned to himself, and was dismounting his charger.

  ‘Touch not the lady!’ he said, striding forward and drawing his long sword. His blue-hued plate flashed darkly in the sun.

  ‘The lady is a conniving seductress who has turned you against your brother and your homeland,’ said Reiner, stepping back. But despite his brave words, he felt like a rabbit in the path of a chariot. Albrecht was stronger, fresher, better armed and armoured—not to mention a head taller. He braced for the baron’s swing.

  A shot rang out. Albrecht staggered as one of his shoulder pieces spun off, holed and twisted. Behind the baron Reiner could see Oskar, kneeling near the unconscious Hals, lowering his smoking handgun. Franka and Giano fired as well, but their missiles glanced off Albrecht’s armour. Pavel was shambling forward, dragging his spear. Reiner’s heart swelled. He had forgotten. He was not alone.

  Albrecht recovered and closed with Reiner, swinging mightily. Reiner ducked and stepped past the baron to hack at his back. His sword bounced off the shining plate, ineffectual, and he had to twist away as Albrecht lashed out behind him.

  ‘Hold him, captain,’ called Pavel. ‘We’re coming.’

  Oskar had dropped his gun and Giano his crossbow and they were limping after Pavel, swords drawn. Franka was circling wide, nocking another arrow.

  ‘Lady Magda,’ Albrecht shouted. ‘Take cover. I will deal with these traitors.’

  ‘No,’ said Lady Magda as she pulled herself to her feet. ‘The banner must fly or the battle is lost.’ With an effort she lifted the Bane and staggered with it toward the crest of the hill.

  ‘Someone stop her!’ called Reiner, dodging a thrust from Albrecht. ‘Knock down that banner.’

  Pavel and Giano turned, but it was Oskar who ran after the abbess. ‘I have failed you too often, captain,’ he cried. ‘She will not escape me again!’

  ‘Be careful!’ called Reiner, but Albrecht’s sword was in his face and he could spare Oskar no more of his attention. He parried and, with Pavel and Giano, began circling the baron like dogs baiting a bull… They lunged in with their swords and spears as he spun this way and that.

  ‘Dishonourable knaves,’ Albrecht gasped, his face red within his helmet. ‘Three on one? Is this how men of the Empire fight?’

  Reiner danced in and cut Albrecht across the calf. ‘Do men of the Empire enslave their subjects with sorcery and pit them against their brothers? Do men of the Empire slay their own kin to win power?’

  ‘My brother is weak!’ said Albrecht. ‘He does Karl-Franz’s bidding like a lap-dog, and refuses to join me in ridding the mountains of Chaos for good and all.’

  ‘And so you bring a new evil to the land to fight the first?’

  ‘You know not of what you speak.’

  As he circled, Reiner saw, over Albrecht’s shoulder, Oskar catch up to Lady Magda. The abbess turned at his approach, raising her hand to command him, but Oskar shielded his eyes and slashed at her with his sword. It was a weak strike, hardly more than a scratch across the back of Lady Magda’s hand, but it was enough to cause her to yelp and drop the banner, which fell against Oskar’s chest.

  Lady Magda leapt at the artilleryman like a wild cat, stiletto held high. He blocked it with the haft of the banner and bashed her in the face with the pommel of his sword. She dropped like a stone.

  ‘Magda!’ cried Albrecht, as the sister sprawled limp on the grass. He started toward her, his own combat suddenly forgotten.

  The three companions took advantage and lunged in together, but once again Albrecht’s armour defeated them. Giano’s sword caromed off his helmet. Pavel’s spear pierced his leg guard, but not deep enough to wound him. Reiner’s sword skidded off his chest plate.

  With a howl of fury, Albrecht lashed out at them. He kicked Giano to the ground, cut a deep gash in Pavel’s shoulder, then slashed back at Reiner and caught him a glancing blow to the scalp.

  Reiner dropped, eyes unfocused with pain, the world spinning around him. He felt the ground hit his back, but wasn’t sure where the rest of his body was. Albrecht was a blurry form above him, raising his sword over his head. Reiner knew this was bad, but couldn’t remember why.

  Franka’s voice echoed in his ears. ‘Reiner! No!’

  The shaft of an arrow buried itself deep in Albrecht’s armpit, sticking out of the gap between his breastplate and his rerebrace. Albrecht roared in agony and dropped his sword. It fell point-first, dangerously close to Reiner’s ear. Reiner rolled up, weaving wildly, all balance gone, and stabbed blind at Albrecht with all his might. The tip impaled the baron’s left eye. Reiner felt it smash through the back of the socket and enter his brain.

  Albrecht dropped to his knees, wrenching the sword from Reiner’s grip. He swayed but didn’t fall. Reiner grabbed his hilt again, put a foot on the baron’s chest and shoved. Albrecht’s face slid off the blade and he crashed to the side like a wagon full of scrap metal tipping into a ditch.

  ‘Cursed lunatic,’ spat Reiner, and sat down hard, clutching his bloody, buzzing head.

  ‘Reiner! Captain!’ cried Franka, running to kneel beside him. ‘Are you hurt?’

  Reiner looked up. His vision cleared. The girl’s face was so full of sweet concern that all at once Reiner wanted to crush her to him. ‘I…’

  Their eyes locked. There was an instant of perfect communication between them, where Reiner suddenly knew that Franka wanted to hold him as much as he wanted to hold her. This was followed by a second look, in which, still without speaking, they both agreed that this was neither the time nor the place, and that the charade must continue.

  With a forced grin, Reiner broke eye contact and clapped Franka heartily on the shoulder. ‘Why I’m fine lad, just fine. Nothing a needle and thread won’t fix.’

  Franka grinned in return. ‘I’m happy to hear it.’

  It sounded like bad acting in Reiner’s ears, but Pavel and Giano were struggling to their feet on either side of them, so he carried on.

  ‘And I am happy with your shooting,’ said Reiner. ‘You saved my bacon with that shot.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  Pavel looked up the hill and groaned. ‘Lady of Mercy, what’s he done now?’

  Reiner turned. At the crest of the hill, Oskar stood hunched, still holding the banner, his face twisted in a grimace of agony.

  ‘Oskar!’ called Reiner. ‘Oskar! Drop it! Put it down!’

  Oskar didn’t move. He was frozen to the spot, shaking like a man in a high fever. His face was drenched in sweat, the yellow glow of the burning shrine of Sigmar shining upon it. He spoke through clenched teeth. ‘I… cannot.’

  Reiner and the others started toward him.

  ‘No!’ he cried. ‘Come no closer! It makes me want to do terrible things.’

  Reiner took another step. ‘Come now. You must fight…’

  Oskar swiped the banner at him. ‘Please, captain! Stay back! I cannot control it!’

  Reiner cursed. ‘Oskar, you must put it down. While you hold it aloft it continues to control Albrecht’s troops.’

  ‘I know,’ said Oskar miserably.

  ‘I held it,’ said Reiner. ‘I know what it whispers to you. But you must fight it. You must…’ Reiner trailed off as he realised that he hadn’t been able to put the banner down of his own volition either. It was Magda’s knife in the back that had saved him.

  Tears ran down Oskar’s frozen face. ‘I cannot fight it, captain. I am weak. You know I am. I…’ With an agonised cry he slashed at them again with the banner and staggered forward a
few steps, then forced himself to stop. He looked like a man struggling to hold his ground against a giant kite. ‘No,’ he muttered furiously. ‘I will not fail again. I will not.’

  Straining as if he had the weight of a mountain on his shoulders, Oskar straightened and turned away from them. He took a step toward the shrine of Sigmar. Then another. He moved like a man in quicksand.

  ‘Very good, Oskar,’ said Reiner. ‘Throw it in the fire. That’s a good man.’

  Oskar closed on the shrine at a snail’s pace, but at last stood mere feet from the fire. He reached out, and Reiner and the others could see his arms shake with the effort of trying to let go of the banner. It remained in his hands.

  ‘Sigmar help me,’ he wailed. ‘But I cannot. I cannot!’

  Reiner stepped forward again. ‘Oskar, be strong!’ he called. ‘Be strong!’

  ‘Yes,’ hissed Oskar, through his teeth. He closed his eyes. ‘Yes. I will be strong.’

  And as Reiner and the others stared, aghast, he walked slowly, but deliberately, into the roaring flames of the burning shrine.

  Franka screamed. Reiner shouted something, but he wasn’t sure it was words.

  ‘Oh, laddie,’ murmured Pavel.

  They could see, through the sheets of flame, Oskar standing in the middle of the shrine, shoulders back, burning like a candle, his clothes and hair charring, his skin crackling and bubbling. The flames raced up the pike and the banner caught, first only at the edges, which burned with a weird purple light, then all at once. There was a sound that was more than the roar of flames, a deep rumbling howl of inhuman fury that made Reiner’s hair stand on end, and then, with a deafening crack, the banner exploded.

  Reiner and the others were knocked flat by a blast larger than all the battle’s cannon shots put together. A huge ball of purple flame erupted above the shrine as its splintered timbers spun past them like straw in a tempest. The last thing Reiner saw—or at least thought he saw—as he lost consciousness was a daemonic face, screaming with rage, boiling out of the fireball. Then it was gone, lost in billows of thick, grey smoke, and the blissful black of concussion.

  TWENTY

  Your Greatest Service

  REINER OPENED HIS eyes. Thick smoke was still rising around him, so he couldn’t have been out long. Groaning like an old man, he sat up and looked around. There was no trace of Oskar or the shrine of Sigmar except a patch of burned earth. Franka was getting to her hands and knees beside him. Giano was hissing as he pulled a dagger-long splinter of wood out of the meat of his arm. Pavel sat with his head between his knees, holding his face.

  There was an irregular thumping behind them. They turned. Hals was crutching their way, the sleeve of his shirt tied around his head. ‘So, we’re alive then,’ he said. ‘Who’da thought, hey?’

  ‘All but Oskar,’ said Franka.

  ‘Aye,’ said Hals. ‘I saw the end of that. Braver than we gave him credit for, I reckon.’

  The boom of a cannon made them look up. Manfred’s gun crews were at their pieces again, firing down at the battlefield below. Reiner and the others levered themselves to their feet and limped to the cliff edge, and discovered to their great relief that the crews were firing at the Chaos troops again.

  ‘That’s the stuff, lads!’ cried Hals, waving his crutch. ‘Give ‘em some pepper!’

  The same thing was happening all over the field. Though the battle was such a jumble that it was difficult to see what was happening, at last it became apparent that Albrecht’s troops, finally free of the banner’s evil influence, were coming to their senses and joining their brothers in Manfred’s army in attacking the Kurgan and driving them back toward the castle. Where before there had been tangled knots of frightened men fighting any who approached them, now the clarion calls of horn and drum were rallying the men of both armies into cohesive units which attacked their common foe with renewed fury. The pall of gloom was lifting from the field with the clearing smoke. The sun shone brightly on the burnished helms and breastplates of the Imperial knights and the ranked spear points of the state troops. The Kurgan, who seconds ago had had the upper hand, now found themselves outnumbered, and fell back in confusion. All over the field, companies of marauders were breaking and fleeing before the newly ordered ranks of the Imperials.

  Franka, Pavel and Hals cheered.

  Giano gave a satisfied grunt. ‘We do our job, hey? They paying us now? Give us reward?’

  Reiner nodded. ‘Aye, I hope so. We’ve done the hard work. Killed Erich and Albrecht and…’ He stopped, then spun, cursing. ‘The witch! Where is she? We’ve forgotten the evil harridan who was the cause of it all.’

  The others turned as well, looking for Lady Magda. She was no longer where Oskar had laid her out. They looked down the slope. She was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Curse the woman,’ said Reiner. ‘She’s as slippery as an Altdorf barrister. Find her.’

  But though they combed the hill all the way down to the smouldering woods, Lady Magda was nowhere to be found.

  ‘She’s flown the coop, captain,’ said Pavel as they all gathered at the crest again.

  Hals spat. ‘Wouldn’t I have liked to have seen her burn at the stake?’

  Franka nodded. ‘Better her than poor Oskar.’

  They surveyed the field again. While they had searched, the battle had come to an end. There was still some mopping up going on, but for the most part the Kurgan had retired from the field, scrambling into the hills above Nordbergbruche castle and back into their holes. A large force of Empire troops was marching up the causeway to the castle gates and meeting little resistance.

  Reiner turned away from the scene with a weary grunt, looking for a place to sit and tend his wounds, when he saw movement at the bottom of the hill. Knights were advancing up toward them at a walk, supported by a company of greatswords. It was Manfred.

  Reiner sighed. ‘Here comes his nibs. Time to face the music.’

  He tried to brush the soot and dirt from his jerkin and tidy up his kit as best he could. The others did the same. It was pointless. They all looked like they’d been dragged through a briar patch backwards.

  Manfred reined to a stop before his brother’s body, his generals around him. He gave the corpse a long, sad look.

  Reiner swallowed, nervous, and saluted. ‘My lord. I can explain. It is as I said before. The banner, which you must have seen, gave Albrecht…’

  Manfred held up his hand. ‘There is no need to explain, you blackhearts. ‘Tis obvious what happened here. You have disobeyed me by escaping from the confinement I put you in, and you have killed my noble brother.’ He turned to the captain of the greatswords. ‘Captain Longrin, fetch a litter for my brother’s body and bring him to his rooms in Nordbergbruche once they have been prepared. Be sure to drape the banner of our house over him, that all may know that a hero died today. Then arrest these men and see that their wounds are seen to. It wouldn’t do for them to die before I had the pleasure of hanging them. When they are presentable, have them brought to me. I wish to interrogate them personally.’ He reined his horse around. ‘Now let us hurry. I want to see what those animals have done to my home.’

  The greatswords advanced on Reiner and the others, who stood open-mouthed with shock. They had expected angry questions, or an argument over whether they had done right or wrong, but this curt dismissal flabbergasted them.

  ‘Y’ungrateful bastard,’ snarled Hals at Manfred’s retreating back. ‘Y’bleeding boil on Sigmar’s arse. Y’don’t know when somebody’s done ye a favour, do ye? Well I hope y’get the pox and it falls off.’ He spit. ‘I wish I had it to do all over again. I woulda’ took the hanging at the beginning and saved myself the trouble.’

  Captain Longrin slapped Hals across the face with a mailed glove, knocking him to the ground. ‘That’ll be enough of that, gallows bird.’ He motioned to his men. ‘Bind ‘em, lads. They’ve still some fight in ‘em.’

  The greatswords tied the wrists of the company and marched
them down the hill.

  ‘Curse all counts,’ said Reiner bitterly. ‘Never will I trust another.’

  ‘Hear hear,’ said Franka.

  BUT MANFRED WAS as good as his word, at least in one regard. Reiner and his companions received the best care. Their wounds were salved and bound, their broken limbs set and wrapped in plaster casts. They were fed and cleaned and dressed in plain, but well-made clothes, and then placed in an empty barracks tent to wait upon Manfred’s pleasure, under a much more alert guard than before.

  Pavel, Hals and Giano took advantage of the delay to lie on the cots and get some shut-eye, but Franka sat huddled in a corner, glaring at nothing. The company had been separated in the hospital tent as their various hurts had been seen to, and Reiner suddenly realised that Franka’s masquerade might have been discovered.

  He sat down next to her and spoke in a whisper. ‘Er, has your, er, manhood survived?’

  She shook her head. ‘I fought them, but they gave me a bath.’

  Reiner sighed. She choked out a sob and butted her head against his shoulder. ‘I don’t want to go back!’

  He put an arm around her. ‘Shhh, now. Shhh. You’ll wake the others.’ He chuckled bleakly. ‘And there’s no fear of you going back. They’ll hang you with the rest of us.’

  She fought to smile. ‘Aye, there’s a comfort.’

  After another hour, as the sunset turned the walls of the tent a deep glowing orange, a captain of the guard opened the flap. ‘File out, scum.’

  They stood, hissing and groaning, their wounds stiff, and followed him out. A double file of greatswords flanked them as they marched through the camp and came at last again to Manfred’s magnificent tent. The captain held the canvas aside and they entered one by one.

  It was dark in the tent, only a few candles illuminating the rich fabrics and dark woods of Manfred’s furniture. Manfred sat in a fur-draped chair. Three more men sat in the shadows behind him. All were dressed in fine clothes and fur cloaks. To Reiner’s surprise, there were no guards present, and five empty camp chairs waited for them, facing Manfred.