by Nathan Long
Manfred looked up. ‘Remnants of the Chaos horde?’
Groff shrugged. ‘Something in there is carrying off the villagers and driving the woodsmen mad. I’d appreciate you asking Altdorf to send reinforcements. We’re in no state to face any—’
‘Right, you lot,’ said Klaus at Reiner’s side, drawing his attention away from the lords’ conversation. ‘We’ve got your lodgings sorted. This way.’
But before they could follow, there was a clatter of hooves at the gate and everyone turned to face the potential threat. It was a single horseman, a flush-faced youth in black and silver, with fevered excitement in his bright blue eyes.
‘Father!’ he cried as he reined his horse to a halt. ‘Father, I saw a white stag in the woods just now. It was beautiful. You should hunt it with me.’
Manfred’s knights relaxed. Their hands dropped from their hilts.
Groff looked embarrassed. ‘Udo, pay your respects to Count Valdenheim. My lord, may I introduce my son, Udo.’
Udo dismounted and bowed distractedly to Manfred. ‘My lord count. Forgive me. Welcome to our humble house.’ He turned back to his father. ‘So, may we have a hunt, father?’
As Klaus led the Blackhearts away, Reiner looked back to see Lord Groff bowing Count Manfred towards the main door and shooting angry looks at his son. Udo seemed oblivious. He followed his father into the keep with a far-away smile on his too-red lips. It looked like he had been eating cherries.
THAT EVENING, WHILE Count Manfred and his knights dined with their host in the great hall, Reiner and his companions ate with Klaus and the coachman and Lord Groffs servants in the castles kitchens. It was a much less formal affair than the dinner upstairs, but undoubtedly warmer. Apparently, during the battle for Groff’s castle, the horde’s weird lightning had set fire to the great hall’s roof, and half of it was open to the cold spring night.
The Blackhearts ate in silence at the long kitchen table, more interested in food than conversation, after their cramped, claustrophobic journey. The servants talked enough for all of them anyway.
‘Hans the baker disappeared last night,’ said a serving maid. ‘Third this month.’
The groom snorted. ‘Disappeared? Everyone knows where he’s gone. Off to join them in the woods.’
The cook nodded. ‘His woman said he woke up from a dead sleep sayin’ he heard music, and just ran off.’
‘Yestere’en when I was huntin’ coney deep in the woods, I seen Laney, the carpenter’s daughter what disappeared the other week,’ said a young potboy. He giggled. ‘She weren’t wearin’ no clothes.’
The head footman laughed. ‘You dreamed that, I’m thinking, laddie. As we all have.’
‘Even you, husband?’ asked the cook sharply.
The servants laughed as the head footman blushed. Some of the Blackhearts smiled.
Reiner was too busy trying to manoeuvre his left foot through the forest of booted legs under the table so that he could lay it beside Franka’s. It would be highly embarrassing to lovingly stroke Hal’s foot, or Pavel’s. Very difficult to explain. At last he was rewarded with a surprised glance from Franka, and then a private smile and a return of pressure from her foot. His heart leapt, then he chuckled. He, who had spent so much of his youth in brothels where the girls stuck their tongues down your throat as a casual greeting, being aroused by such schoolboy flirtation. Ridiculous. Aye, but undeniable as well.
He glanced around the room, suddenly desperate to discover a way to be alone with Franka that night. They would be back in the coach on the morrow and he had no idea how they would be lodged in Altdorf. Tonight could be their only chance at intimacy—their only chance even to speak privately.
‘Tain’t funny, young Grig,’ said a burly huntsman to a grinning young footman. ‘Those fools are dangerous as well as mad. They’d eat you as soon as look at you. And the wood ain’t the same neither. The trees are changing. Honest Drakwald oaks growing thorns and…’ he made a face, ‘fat purple plums. It ain’t natural.’
‘If there’s a danger in the forest,’ asked Hals, his garrulous nature surfacing, ‘why are yer walls still all a jumble?’
‘There’s not many left to build ‘em, friend,’ said the footman. ‘The war took so many. The village was nearly deserted even before this business in the woods begun. Now—’
‘Even the bandits what used to steal our sheep are leaving,’ said the cook. ‘And there’s those who won’t work at Castle Groff because they think it an unlucky house. Hard to build walls when nobody will.’
‘Less of that, foolish woman,’ snapped the head footman. ‘There’s no need to be airing our dirty linen.’
‘I don’t say ‘tis unlucky,’ answered the cook. ‘I’m still here, ain’t I? It’s only what they say in the village. What with the young master dying, and m’lord’s lady taken away by fever, and master Udo taking on so queer…’
‘There’s nothing wrong with master Udo,’ barked a long-faced fellow who hadn’t spoken before.
Reiner looked up at him. He was a long-faced fellow in the garb of a manservant. A lock of prematurely grey hair hung over one eye.
The man chuckled, trying to smooth over his outburst. ‘The boy’s moon-eyed over a girl in the village is all.’ He winked. ‘She wears him out.’
‘He don’t go to the village, Stier,’ said the groom. ‘He goes to the woods.’
‘Don’t talk of what you don’t know, boy.’ Stier snapped. ‘I’m his manservant. I think I should know what he does.’ He stood, stiff. ‘It will be time to serve the port. Come, Burgo.’
The footman wiped his lips and joined Stier as he unlocked the wine cabinet. They selected a few bottles, and went upstairs.
Reiner stared at the cabinet. They had left it open. He smiled.
‘YOU LOT ARE lucky they ain’t got a full complement of servants,’ said Klaus as he herded them into a below-stairs dormitory. ‘You’d be sleeping in the stables else.’ He turned on Reiner. ‘And I’ll be right outside the door, you, so no sneaking out windows, no sneaking in serving girls, no gambling with the grooms. We’re on our best behaviour. Understand?’
Reiner looked suddenly contrite. ‘Actually, sergeant, if I might have a word alone, I have a confession to make.’
Klaus sighed and beckoned him into the hall, then closed the door behind them. ‘What is it now, Hetzau?’
Reiner slipped a bottle of wine from under his jacket. ‘Well…’
‘What’s this?’ asked Klaus suspiciously. ‘You trying to bribe me?’
‘Bribe you?’ said Reiner, astonished. ‘Sergeant, bribery was the furthest thing from my mind, I assure you.’
‘Then…?’
‘I, er, well, I nicked this to share with the lads, but your admonitions have shamed me, and I want you to return it to its rightful place. I don’t want to embarrass Manfred with any bad behaviour.’
Klaus looked longingly at the bottle. ‘Why, that’s damned decent of ye, Hetzau. I’ll put in a good word for you with Count Manfred for this.’
Reiner gave Klaus the bottle. ‘I was just hoping you wouldn’t report me.’
‘No fear,’ said Klaus, not taking his eyes off the bottle. ‘No fear.’
LATER, AFTER THE other Blackhearts had gone to sleep, Reiner slipped out of his cot and peeked into the hall. He was gratified to see Klaus sprawled in his chair snoring like a lumber mill, the wine bottle empty beside him. Reiner tiptoed to Franka’s bed and shook her gently. Like a good soldier, Franka came awake without a murmur, merely opening her eyes and reaching for her dagger—which she didn’t have, as Manfred had disarmed them.
Reiner put his finger to his lips and nodded towards the door. Franka looked around, frowning when she saw the other Blackhearts still asleep.
‘What’s this foolishness?’ she mouthed.
He winked and motioned to the door again. Franka hesitated, then, with a shrug, swung out of bed, tugged on her boots and doublet, and joined him. He checked the hall again, then ea
sed out. She followed and closed the door behind her. The latch clicked and they both turned to look at Klaus, ready to fight, but he did nothing but snore.
Reiner led Franka quietly through the dark hallways and twisting stairs of the silent castle until he found the musicians’ gallery above the main hall. He pulled her in and sat her down on a long wooden bench. Sheet music was strewn underfoot, and moonlight from the huge hole in the great hall’s roof shone through the gallery’s lattice work, casting geometric patterns of light and shadow on Franka’s sweet face. Reiner was overcome.
‘Alone at last,’ he breathed, leaning forward to encircle her in his arms.
Something stopped him. He looked down to find Franka’s small hand pushing firmly on his sternum. ‘You presume much, my lord.’
‘Do I?’ asked Reiner, genuinely surprised. ‘Er, I thought, from your glances, from your coming away with me…’
‘I came so that we might speak of… all this.’
‘Speak? You want to waste these few precious moments we have speaking? This may be our only opportunity to…’
‘My lord, please,’ said Franka. ‘It’s true that I have discovered, er, feelings, for you that I did not expect, and I too desire to, er, be closer to you, but…’
‘Then be with me now,’ said Reiner reaching for her again. ‘There’s no telling how things will be when we get to Altdorf.’
Once again her hand held him away. ‘Let me finish, my lord. I am not the sort of woman you are used to trafficking with. I am a miller’s daughter, not a harlot. The thing you ask I do not give lightly.’
‘You aren’t exactly a proper Talabheim matron either,’ countered Reiner. ‘They don’t join the army. And I doubt you and your Yarl ever crossed hands under the Hammer.’
Franka looked at the floor. ‘We were married in our way. In Sigmar’s eyes if not those of the law. And that is one of the reasons I beg you to wait a while.’ She looked up at Reiner. ‘I made a vow on Yarl’s death, in honour of my love for him, that a year would pass before I took a husband, or another lover. I intend to honour that vow.’
Reiner fought to keep the frustration from his face. ‘And a year hasn’t yet passed?’
‘There are five months left before I may love again.’
‘Five months!’ The words echoed through the great hall and Reiner and Franka froze, listening for a challenge. None came. Reiner lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. ‘Five months? We could be dead in five months! Sigmar knows what madness Manfred has in store for us. He could send us to the Chaos Wastes, for all we know.’
‘Please, m’lord. You are cruel to press me like this.’
Reiner sighed and sat back. ‘Very well. I won’t make a fool of myself. But could we not at least share a single kiss—as chaste as you like—as acknowledgement of our feelings toward one another?’
Franka chuckled. ‘And one kiss won’t lead to another?’
‘Upon my honour, lady, I…’
Franka held up a hand. ‘Don’t. It would pain me to be disappointed with you, so I won’t give you the opportunity to lie.’ She opened her arms. ‘Instead, I will grant you your kiss, and be ready to defend myself.’
‘You wound me, lady.’
‘You will recover, I’m sure.’
They closed each other in an embrace. Franka raised her face to Reiner’s. He lowered his lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, at first, but after a moment the tension went out of their arms and they pressed closer, melting into each other as if the boundaries between them were blurring. Franka moaned in her throat and her hands ran down Reiner’s back. Her lips parted. Reiner gripped her hips and pulled her into him.
‘No!’ Franka was suddenly pushing back, turning her head away. Reiner thought he saw tears in her eyes.
‘But why?’ asked Reiner urgently. ‘Your need is obviously as great as mine. Why do you deny yourself?’ ‘Because I have made a vow. I would dishonour Yarl’s memory if I broke it.’
‘Damn all vows,’ growled Reiner, reaching for her again. ‘You dishonour your true nature by denying—’
‘Hist!’ said Franka, turning. ‘I heard a noise.’
‘None of your tricks,’ said Reiner, but now he heard it too: a rustling and bumping. He and Franka stepped to the lattice that screened the gallery from the great hall below and looked down.
Shuffling somnolently through the patches of moonlight that illuminated the big room, dressed only in his night shirt, was Groff’s son Udo. His eyes were open, but he moved like a blind man pulled forward by some invisible rope.
‘He sleepwalks,’ murmured Reiner.
‘We… er, we should follow him,’ whispered Franka. ‘And make sure he doesn’t do himself a mischief.’ She turned towards the door.
Reiner gave her a sly look. ‘Are you concerned for his safety or your own?’
Franka smirked. ‘You are very perceptive, sir.’ And before he could pull her back, she evaded his arms and slipped into the corridor. Reiner sighed and followed.
As they started down the stairs to the hall, they saw Udo coming up. They backed around a corner until he topped the stairs and walked away down the corridor.
Franka started after him. Reiner cursed. He had felt her desire. It would only have been a matter of time before she succumbed. Now who knew when they could come to grips again. Five months? Unthinkable.
Udo turned a corner. When Reiner and Franka reached it, Franka peeked around, then pulled quickly back.
‘What is it?’ asked Reiner.
‘A… a woman,’ said Franka, frowning.
‘What?’ Reiner eased his head around the corner.
At the end of a short hallway, open doors revealed a scene from some old romantic painting—a couple embracing on an ivy-covered balcony, the lovers haloed softly in the moonlight—except in the painting, the man would undoubtedly have worn breeches.
The woman was shockingly beautiful, a voluptuous succubus in a plum velvet dress, with glossy black hair and a full-lipped, heart-shaped face. Udo was fully under her spell, trying to close with her like a lust-crazed schoolboy while she held him off.
‘Later, beloved,’ she was saying. ‘We must speak of other things first.’
The scene felt familiar, but Reiner was so beglamoured by the woman’s beauty he couldn’t remember why. He only wanted to continue to look at her.
A hand pulled him roughly back. ‘Do you want them to see you?’ hissed Franka.
‘I was, er, well…’
Franka rolled her eyes.
The woman’s voice floated around the corner: a throaty contralto. ‘No, beloved. First you must tell me what was said at dinner. Why is Valdenheim here? Does he mean to destroy us?’
Reiner and Franka froze at the mention of Manfred’s name.
‘Dinner be damned,’ whined Udo. ‘You don’t understand how much I need you. I ache for you.’
‘I know exactly how much you need me, silly boy. Now tell me or I shall leave.’
Udo yelped. ‘No! You mustn’t! I will tell! Though they said little enough. Father begged Valdenheim for help fighting the “horror” in the forest, but Valdenheim put him off, saying the Empire hasn’t the resources.’
‘So he hasn’t come to hunt us down?’
‘No. He’s only passing through. Taking spies to be questioned in Altdorf, he said.’
Reiner and Franka heard the woman’s relieved sigh. ‘Very good. Now did you tell your father of the white stag as I asked? Has he agreed to the hunt?’
‘I told him, but… but, beloved, is it really necessary to kill him? I know he’s a fool, but he is my…’
‘He will never consent to our union, my sweet. Or to the kingdom of pleasure we hope to found here. It is best…’ She stopped suddenly, then murmured something Reiner and Franka couldn’t hear.
‘What?’ said Udo loudly. ‘Overheard?’
Reiner and Franka began backing hastily away, but before they could take three steps Udo was around the corner, swinging his fis
ts wildly. ‘Assassins!’ he cried. ‘Spies!’
‘Hush, beloved!’ hissed the woman, following him. ‘You’ll wake the house.’
Reiner and Franka dropped Udo with a few well-placed fists and knees, and he rolled away, groaning. The woman was another matter. She flashed towards them like an oiled shadow, a stiletto glinting in her hand. Reiner and Franka dropped their hands to their belts, forgetting again that they had no daggers.
The woman lunged at Reiner, her blade seeking his neck. He grabbed her wrist, trying to force it back. It was like trying to bend iron. He looked in her eyes. They shone with a weird light. His mind began to swim. Franka kicked the woman in the stomach. The beauty snarled and backhanded her, breaking eye-contact with Reiner. Franka flew back, head bouncing off the wall, and she slid to the floor.
Reiner caught the woman’s arm as she stabbed again, this time averting his eyes, but even using his whole body to hold the stiletto away, still it inched towards his neck.
Sounds of doors opening echoed down the hall.
‘Unhand her, villain!’ cried Udo, staggering up. Franka grabbed his legs. He kicked her in the face.
‘Idiot child!’ hissed the beauty. ‘Be silent!’
Udo pummelled Reiner. His blows were weak, but a lucky punch to the kidney made Reiner’s knees buckle and the witch’s stiletto jerked forward, gashing his collar bone.
With a look of triumph, she ripped her arm free of Reiner’s grip and raised the stiletto, but feet were running towards them and they heard the scrape of unsheathing swords. The beauty looked up, cursing, then jumped back, eyes flashing angrily at Udo. ‘Fool! I told you to be silent.’ With a frustrated hiss, she ran to the balcony and leapt over. Reiner half expected her to fly away like some bird of prey, but she dropped out of sight and was gone.
Udo’s fist caught Reiner on the cheekbone. ‘Spoilsport! You’ve chased her away!’
Reiner ducked back and grabbed Udo’s arms. Franka lurched up and caught Udo’s collar from behind, pulling his shirt down over his shoulders to trap his arms. Reiner was about to head butt the youth when he saw a livid mark on Udo’s exposed chest. A small puncture wound, purple-black with infection, rose directly over his heart. It looked like a third nipple.
