Blackhearts: The Omnibus

by Nathan Long

  ‘He threatens us, lord count!’ said Schott, eyes blazing.

  ‘Let him,’ said Manfred, and bowed, smiling, as the rat-mage returned to his troops.

  Without a word, the horde of vermin withdrew into the tunnels again like an ebbing brown tide. The men looked around at each other as if they couldn’t believe they were still alive.

  ‘Don’t stand there!’ snapped Manfred at Reiner. ‘Pick it up and let’s be off before we lose it again!’

  The Blackhearts picked up the waystone and, surrounded by the shattered remnants of the Talabheimers and Reiklanders, walked it wearily back to the surface.

  FOUR DAYS LATER, deep under Talabheim, Teclis reset the waystone, binding it with powerful wards, then burying its crypt below thousands of tonnes of rock. He then cast a spell of forgetting upon all the labourers who had built the new vault so that they could tell none where it was, and a similar spell upon the vault itself, which would make any who came looking for it forget what they had come for.

  Instantly upon the setting of the stone, the mad plants of the Tallows began to wilt, the clouds and strange aurora over the city dissipated, and the madness that had plagued Talabheim faded. There was still much to be put right—neighbourhoods to be rebuilt, mutants to be hunted down, cultists to be hung, but no new cases of mutation were reported and Taalagad was reopened to trade.

  To celebrate, the countess threw a grand ball, to which Manfred and the Reikland legation were invited. Reiner did not expect to be invited. He thought Manfred would shove him into the shadows and take all the glory for himself, but to his surprise the count ordered him to attend, while Lord Schott was sent back to Altdorf early to inform the Emperor of their success.

  ‘Damn stubborn bull wouldn’t play the game,’ Manfred said as they rode to the Grand Manor. ‘In order to save the countess embarrassment and keep relations with Talabheim smooth, we must pretend that Scharnholt and Danziger died heroes’ deaths fighting the mutants. There can be no suggestion that her court was plagued with cultists. Schott refused to cooperate in the deception, so I’ve sent him home.’ Manfred glared at Reiner. ‘Instead, you will be the hero of the hour—the noble secretary who led Scharnholt, Danziger, and von Pfaltzen to the lair of the evil elf. And if you don’t play it just as I’ve said, and praise Scharnholt and Danziger to the heavens, I’ll have your head, you understand?’

  ‘Your lordship always makes himself perfectly clear,’ said Reiner, bowing.

  AFTER TELLING HIS story—or rather, Manfred’s story—a dozen times, Reiner saw, across the countess’s grand ballroom, Lord Rodick and Lady Magda, talking and laughing with the countess herself. Reiner broke off in the middle of a humourous anecdote. The cursed woman landed on her feet like a cat. How were the traitors back in the countess’s good graces? Lack of evidence? Or did the countess not want one of her own family to be accused of treason?

  Reiner had no such qualms. He excused himself from his audience and crossed to Manfred, who was talking to Talabheim’s high priest of Taal.

  ‘M’lord,’ he whispered in his ear. ‘If I might speak with you?’

  Manfred finished his conversation then turned to Reiner. ‘Yes? Why aren’t you telling your tale?’

  ‘M’lord, if you are still interested in destroying your brother’s corrupter, I believe I have a way. Only invite me to tell our adventure before Magda, Rodick and the countess.’

  Manfred nodded. ‘Come.’

  Magda and Rodick attempted to excuse themselves when Manfred approached the countess, but Manfred begged them to stay and hear the tale of his rescue and the waystone’s retrieval. ‘Reiner was the discoverer of the plot, and tells it so much better than I.’

  And so they listened, fidgeting, while Reiner told how he had seen mutants dressed as priests of Morr sneaking from the Grand Manor and warned Danziger, Scharnholt and von Pfaltzen of the theft, then led them to the dark elfs lair. When he began to tell of the hooded thieves who had tried to steal the waystone in the middle of the battle he noticed that Magda’s upper lip was sweating.

  ‘My man Franz is a dead shot.’ Reiner said. ‘And when Scharnholt cried that thieves were taking the stone, Franz loosed an arrow after them. Unfortunately, the range was long and his shot only hit one of the leaders—a little fellow—in the arm, and he and the other escaped before the dark elf blasted the others off the bridge.’ Reiner frowned, disappointed. ‘I am mortally sorry those men got away. It would be a great service to Talabheim to learn what traitors had designs on that stone. Unfortunately, it is beyond practicality to ask every man in Talabheim if he had been shot in the arm just “here”.’

  As he said ‘here’ he squeezed Magda’s arm hard, just above the elbow. Magda shrieked. Her knees buckled.

  Reiner gasped, as if shocked. ‘Lady, I am terribly sorry! Are you wounded there? What an unfortunate coincidence!’

  ‘Take your hands from her, you oaf!’ cried Rodick angrily. ‘You’ve crushed her arm.’

  ‘M’lord, I swear I only touched her!’ Reiner said. ‘I meant no harm.’

  ‘An unfortunate coincidence indeed,’ said the countess, looking levelly at Magda. ‘Come with me, lady. I will have my royal physician look at you.’

  ‘There is no need,’ said Magda, smiling though she was white as a sheet. ‘He only surprised me. I am fine.’

  ‘I insist,’ said the countess, and there was no mistaking the threat in her voice. She turned and signalled her guards, who stood nearby. ‘This way. Cousin Rodick, won’t you join us?’

  Magda shot a look of pure venom at Reiner as she was lead away.

  Reiner bowed deeply. ‘Goodbye, lady. The pleasure was all mine.’

  AND SO, ON the morning that the Reikland legation left for Altdorf, Reiner and the other Blackhearts watched with satisfaction as Lady Magda Bandauer was hung from the gallows before the Grand Courthouse of Edicts. Lord Rodick, being cousin to the countess, had been allowed to take poison. Magda had then been charged with his murder—all neat and tidy with no awkward questions about waystones and statues of Shallya asked.

  Magda carried herself with great poise on the gallows, and might have gone to her death with all dignity intact had she not, when the executioner offered her a chance to speak, begun to denounce the countess and the Talabheim parliament for covering up Scharnholt and Danziger’s corruption and the threat of the ratmen who lived under the city.

  Reiner chuckled as she was gagged and hooded and the noose snugged around her neck. Spiteful to the end, the bitch. He’d have done the same, of course.

  ‘And that’s for Captain Veirt,’ said Pavel, as Magda dropped and jerked at the end of the rope.

  ‘And poor Oskar,’ said Franka.

  ‘And Ulf,’ said Reiner.

  ‘Too bad she’s that sack over her head,’ said Hals. ‘I want to see her face now she’s tasted death herself.’

  ‘And yet,’ said Reiner. ‘We have her to thank for our lives. Without her scheming we would have all been hung long ago in the Smallhof garrison.’

  ‘This is a life?’ asked Pavel.

  The others, who hadn’t known the men Magda had caused to die, watched silently as she twitched and fought under the gibbet.

  Manfred seemed distracted throughout the proceedings. Reiner smiled, for he knew why. The night before, after Reiner had helped pack Teclis’s belongings—for with his guard dead the elf had no servants—he had done the same for Manfred. The count made Reiner go through every case and box three times looking for a small leather-bound journal. When it couldn’t be found, he had accused Reiner of stealing it, and searched his belongings as thoroughly as he had searched his own, but when he found nothing he had finally dismissed Reiner, furious. Reiner had heard him rummaging all night long.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Unfinished Business

  THEY REACHED ALTDORF seven days later, and the Blackhearts were once again installed in Manfred’s townhouse while the count closeted himself with the Emperor and his cabinet, explaini
ng what had occurred in Talabheim.

  The Blackhearts fidgeted and fumed, for nothing had been said of their release, and Manfred was never there to question. But at last, on the evening of the third day, Reiner was told the count would see him in the library.

  Manfred sat in a high-backed chair by the fire when Reiner entered, flipping through official papers. Reiner stood at attention until, after a few moments, Manfred looked up, pretending he hadn’t noticed him before.

  ‘Ah, Hetzau,’ he said. ‘Sit. You wished to see me?’

  Reiner cursed inwardly, for he knew then and there that Manfred did not intend to honour his promise. Still, he must ask. ‘Yes, m’lord. Thank you.’ He sat. ‘I have come on behalf of the others, m’lord, about your promise. That if we freed you from the dark elf, you would free us.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Manfred. ‘In the press of events I had nearly forgotten.’

  ‘We have not, m’lord,’ said Reiner.

  Manfred paused for a long moment, then sighed. ‘I’m afraid your success has defeated you, Hetzau.’ He looked up at Reiner with a curious expression. ‘What you did in Talabheim was impossible. The odds you overcame are not to be calculated. And because of this I… I find I cannot let you go. You are too valuable.’

  Reiner nodded, resigned. ‘I was afraid you would say that, m’lord. I have given up expecting honour from the nobility.’

  Manfred stiffened. ‘My position doesn’t allow me honour, just as yours does not. If I am to keep the Emperor and the Empire safe, I must do what must be done.’

  ‘And get a little of your own in as well, m’lord?’ Reiner winked.

  ‘Eh?’ Manfred scowled. ‘What’s this impertinence?’

  Reiner cleared his throat. ‘“It must be proved that Talabheim cannot rescue itself. And if ‘evidence’ could be found that the countess was behind the stone’s disappearance, so much the better”.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Manfred gripped the arms of his chair.

  ‘“The Emperor wishes that Talabecland develop closer ties to the Reikland. How better than to have a Reiklander rule Talabheim? I have languished too long in the shadows. It is time to step into the sun”.’ Reiner shrugged. ‘Forgive me, m’lord, if I have misquoted you, but I speak from memory.’

  ‘So you do have the book,’ said Manfred. ‘Well, valuable as you are, you will die for its theft.’

  ‘No m’lord, we will be released for its return.’

  Manfred laughed. ‘Blackmail? You are in no position. All your belongings are in my house. I will find the book and kill you all.’

  ‘Fortunately,’ said Reiner. ‘I had the foresight to hide it outside the house before we returned here. It is in a place where your rivals will find it if we die.’

  ‘And if I torture the location out of you?’ asked Manfred.

  Reiner shrugged. ‘You may well, but looking for it where it is hidden may bring it unwanted scrutiny. You may lose it even as you retrieve it.’

  ‘What have you done, you blackheart?’

  ‘Merely taken precautions, m’lord, as one blackheart must when dealing with another.’

  Manfred fumed silently. He looked like he wished to strangle Reiner where he sat.

  ‘All you need do, m’lord,’ said Reiner, ‘is remove our poison and the book will be returned. I have no wish to destroy you, nor stand in the way of your ambitions. We only want you to honour your promise. We only want our freedom.’

  Manfred glared at him, then chuckled. ‘I think I am fortunate that you seem to have no ambitions of your own. Very well, Hetzau, the poison will be removed. I will speak to Magus Handfort in the morning. But know this,’ he added. ‘If you think to trick me on this. If you haven’t the book, or you do not mean to return it, your freedom will be very short indeed.’

  ‘Of course, m’lord.’ Reiner stood and walked out.

  MAGUS HANDFORT’S EXTRACTION of the poison was the most painful thing Reiner had ever endured, more excruciating even than reaching for Valaris’s necklace. Indeed, at times Reiner wondered if Manfred had betrayed them after all, for it felt as if his blood were burning through his veins and his kidneys ached as if they had been battered with clubs. But at last it was over and the Blackhearts were returned, barely conscious, to Manfred’s carriages.

  ‘Now,’ said the count, as he signalled his driver to return them to his townhouse. ‘Where is the book?’

  Reiner felt in no condition to carry on a conversation. He could barely open his eyes. ‘Not yet, m’lord.’

  ‘What! You promised me!’ Manfred kicked Reiner in the leg. ‘Wake up, curse you! I have done as you asked. Where is the book?’

  Reiner flinched. His entire body felt as tender as a raw wound. ‘I said I would give you the book when the poison was removed,’ said Reiner. ‘But is it? You may have tricked us.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ Manfred cried. ‘Do you think I would go to such lengths to fool you?’

  ‘I have read your journal, m’lord,’ said Reiner. ‘You have gone further to gain less. I want proof.’

  ‘And what proof can I give you? Do you want me to swear by Sigmar? Do you want Magus Handfort to take an oath.’

  ‘I want Lord Teclis to examine us,’ said Reiner.

  ‘Dog!’ said Manfred. ‘You cannot disturb so great a person for so paltry a reason. I refuse!’

  Reiner shrugged. ‘Then kill us and be prepared to hang when the book is found.’

  Manfred glared at him, then with a vicious curse rapped on the ceiling of the coach. ‘Kluger, turn about. Take us to Lord Teclis’s residence.’

  ‘AND HOW DID this poisoning occur?’ asked Teclis. The high elf lay propped up in bed, in a white, sunlit room in the house Karl-Franz had provided for him in Altdorf. He was still weak, but looked better than when Reiner had packed his trunks.

  ‘It was the dark elf, m’lord,’ said Reiner, smirking at Manfred. They sat at the mage’s side while the Blackhearts stood uncomfortably at the door. ‘He used it to force us to do his bidding.’ Reiner pulled open his shirt, revealing Valaris’s knife-work, still pink and raw. ‘He said that with this he would know if we betrayed him, and would poison us from afar. He promised to provide an antidote when we brought him the stone, but he lied.’

  ‘My magus, Handfort, attempted to remove the poison,’ said Manfred. ‘But such is my love for my men that I came to ask if you might confirm it.’

  Teclis ignored him, looking at Reiner’s scars. ‘I am sorry I am too weak at the moment to remove it. Perhaps another day. Your arm.’

  Reiner held out his arm. The elf took it and made a circular motion over it with his left hand. Reiner tensed, but there was no pain.

  After a moment, Teclis looked up. ‘There is no poison here. Bring the others.’

  One by one the Blackhearts approached Teclis and offered their arms. At last he lay back, drained. ‘They are free of poison.’

  Manfred looked at Reiner. ‘Are you satisfied?’

  ‘Thank you, m’lord. I am.’

  Manfred stood. ‘Then take me to the book.’

  ‘A moment, m’lord.’ He turned to Teclis. ‘Lord Teclis, your pardon.’

  Manfred put a hand to his dagger, afraid of some treachery.

  Teclis opened his eyes. ‘I am tired, man. What is it?’

  Reiner bowed. ‘Forgive me, lord, but when I saw to your luggage in Talabheim, I inadvertently packed one of Lord Manfred’s books among yours. May I retrieve it?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Teclis, closing his eyes. ‘Then leave me, please.’

  Reiner turned to Teclis’s bookshelves. Two stacks of books, still tied with twine, sat before them. Reiner cut the twine from one and removed a slim, leather-bound volume.

  ‘Here you are, m’lord.’ He handed it to Manfred, who gaped like a fish.

  ‘But… But, it might have been found. It…’

  ‘It might have, m’lord. But it wasn’t. Shall we go?’

  WALKING OUT OF a door is an everyday act, but when he
walked out of Manfred’s front door with Franka, Pavel, Hals, Jergen, Augustus and Dieter, it felt to Reiner a greater occasion than the coronation of a new emperor. He had been trying to walk out of that door for more than a year. His heart pounded like a drum. He wanted to leap for joy. He inhaled the smell of Altdorf, of cooking fires and piss, of rotting vegetation, cheap scent and sausages, and thought he had never smelled a more intoxicating perfume in all his life. He grinned from ear to ear. They had no minder. They had no mission. They had no leash. They were free. They could go where they pleased. And Reiner knew exactly where that was.

  ‘To the Griffin, lads! And the drinks are on me!’

  The others cheered. Even Jergen smiled. They turned down the cobbled street, their packs over their shoulders and an unaccustomed swing in their step.

  Half an hour later they were tucked into a corner table by the fireplace under the Griffin’s smoke blackened beams. There were mugs of beer in their hands and a crispy brown goose lay on a platter before them.

  Pavel raised his mug. ‘A toast!’ he said, but Reiner waved his hands.

  ‘Wait!’ he said. ‘There is one last thing we must do.’

  The others watched as he reached into his pouch and pulled out the rolled length of leather. He unrolled it and removed the phylactery with his name on it, then handed each of the others theirs. ‘I am certain Teclis did not lie,’ he said. ‘All the same, I’d like to be sure.’

  He turned to the fire, and though he knew there was no risk, it still took a fair amount of courage to throw the vial into the flames. There was a pop and a hiss, and then, nothing. Reiner let out a sigh. The others did too, then one by one, they solemnly threw their vials into the fire.

  ‘Now the toast, pikeman!’ said Reiner.

  Pavel grinned and stood. ‘There ain’t no toast better than what our mumchance brother once gave,’ he said, nodding to Jergen. He raised his mug. ‘To freedom!’