“Why?”
Litzenreich stared through his narrow eyes, and it was almost as though he did not understand the question. “Why? Why? Because it was there!”
Five years ago, when Konrad had spoken to Wolf about the bronze warrior, Wolf had said that the knight was his twin brother. But how long ago had his twin become the enigmatic knight? Was he the first to wear the armour? How many others had been held hostage by the bronze?
It seemed that there must have been a long series of warriors within the suit of armour. Konrad had merely been the latest -and the last. It was no coincidence that he had found the armour. It appeared that the panoply had been awaiting him. It was as if they were meant for one another, that it had been his destiny to become the bronze knight…
“The warrior seemed invincible,” said Konrad. “How did you stop him?”
He realized that he was speaking as though the knight were someone — or something — else, that it had nothing to do with him. But it was true. The knight had been the bronze armour, and Konrad had merely been within the armour. He was like a servant who had simply done his master’s bidding.
“The best method to fight a creature of Chaos,” replied Litzenreich, “is with Chaos.”
Konrad waited for him to continue.
“Warpstone,” said Litzenreich, as though the word were a spell. “Warpstone,” he repeated, nodding for emphasis, as though the two syllables were the answer to everything.
The word was familiar, but Konrad had even less idea of its full meaning than he did the nature of Chaos.
“It is the effect of warpstone that leads to mutation,” Litzenreich explained. “Without warpstone there would be no beastmen. The bronze was Chaos armour, forged with warpstone. The way to combat warpstone is with warpstone. Like repels like, just as two lodestones will push away from one another.”
Konrad waited again, hoping that the rest of the explanation made more sense.
His incomprehension must have been evident, because Litzenreich said:
“I set myself up as the Chaos rider’s next challenger, drawing it into a line of trees, each of which was hung with warpstone so arranged as to resonate and magnify-” He broke off and glanced at Konrad, who had noticed how the wizard described the bronze figure as “it” and not “you”, then continued: “The warpstone in the trees nullified the effect of the warpstone in the armour. That was the only thing holding the horse up, and so it fell. Because you had not become totally fused, you were unseated. Understand?”
“Yes,” replied Konrad, and he almost did.
“When Varsung realized that you had not yet been devoured by the armour, I decided to try and remove it from you. Without getting technical, suffice to say: once again, I used warpstone; once again, I succeeded.”
“I was trapped inside Chaos armour,” said Konrad, slowly, not liking the direction in which his thoughts were leading him. “That must mean I am tainted by Chaos!”
“Yes,” agreed Litzenreich, “but it was not merely the armour which infected you. There was also the warpstone needed to extricate you from the bronze.”
“You should have let me die.”
“Die?” Litzenreich blinked rapidly, seemingly perplexed. “Why?”
“Because I am evil!”
The wizard scratched his head. “What is this evil?” He emphasized the word, as though it were foreign and he was unsure how to pronounce it.
The northern hordes, the mutants, the beastmen, Chaos! Evil! Konrad spat out the word as if it were poison — and it was, a poison which flowed freely through his veins, corrupting his entire body.
He knew evil. He had been fighting it for five years, defending the mine and trying to hold back the forces of darkness on the borders of Kislev.
“Chaos and evil are not synonyms, I assure you,” said Litzenreich. “Evil is a creation of men, of humans — and inhumans. Chaos simply is. It exists, it is neither good nor evil. Only the way we are affected by it leads to our interpretation of it as either ‘good’ or ‘bad’.”
Konrad neither spoke nor reacted. He had halted his pacing and was busy contemplating what must be happening to himself.
“Is water good or evil?” asked Litzenreich. “It is neither, it is simply there. If we drink water to quench our thirsts, we may say that it is good. If someone drowns in it, we could say that it is evil — unless the one who drowns is our enemy. But the words ‘good’ and ‘bad’ have no absolute meaning. A fire is good if it warms us in winter, but bad if it burns down our homes. Fire is not good, fire is not bad. It is neither — or it is both.”
Konrad was staring at his hands, watching for any signs of hairs on his palms, of his nails growing into claws. Litzenreich could not fool him with clever words. He had been infected by Chaos, and his body must have begun to change even though he could not yet see the traces of mutation. Wherever he looked, however, he could only find new skin. New skin covered with old wounds.
“I have been working with warpstone for years,” said Litzenreich. “Once it has been refined, it is quite harmless. Unless one happens to swallow it!” He laughed. “And even then the chances of mutation are very small. When I have a large enough sample of experimental subjects, I intend to find out precisely how small. I do have a certain group in mind.” He nodded slyly.
“Where was I? Warpstone. Yes, in its powdered state it is harmless. Admittedly, I do have occasion to use some of the raw stuff occasionally, but I always take the necessary precautions. I am as human as you are, Konrad.”
“You’re a wizard.”
“Wizards are human, too, although I like to think of myself as a man of science.” Litzenreich stood up. “Let us go through into my main research chamber.” He walked towards the door, beckoning for Konrad to follow.
They made their way along a series of narrow passages, all hewn out of the mountain, until they reached the area where Konrad had been extricated from the armour. A group of women were in the centre of the room, dissolving various powders into numerous containers of liquid, then pouring them into glass bottles of different sizes. Two dwarfs were busy in the far corner, working with tiny pieces of metal. One of them, Konrad noticed, was Ustnar. He glanced at Konrad for several seconds before returning to his intricate task.
“As far as I am concerned,” Litzenreich said, “the name ‘wizard’ has fallen into disrepute, particularly in Middenheim. Ever since the art was legalized, it has become more regimented and more backward. There are no advances in magic these days. The guilds see to that. No one is allowed to try anything new. There are so many rules and regulations, our predecessors achieved far more when they had to operate in secret.” He glanced around the cavern. “As, indeed, I do.”
Konrad was also gazing around, and he stared up at the metal device which hung from the ceiling: the object whose claws had stripped the bronze armour from his body, and which he had imagined as a spider. Litzenreich kept on speaking, even though his audience was not paying much attention. Konrad was busy studying the doors and searching for possible weapons. He refused to be hypnotized by the wizard’s words. It was still his intention to escape as soon as possible.
“The only reason magic was legalized,” Litzenreich continued, “was because of its military implications. But there is far more to sorcery than devising new weapons, new defences. Try and find funding for pure research, however, and it is impossible. Yet that is where the greatest advances will be made. I have to finance all my own experiments, you know. And I have to hide away beneath Middenheim, hoping that the colleges of magic will not realize what I am doing. I have to be here because of the guild’s library and the various bits and pieces I need from the university. You understand?”
“Er… yes,” Konrad agreed.
He knew very little about magic, and he had always been very suspicious of such unnatural powers. On the frontier, Wolf would not employ war wizards; but he was very old-fashioned and did not believe in anything new, such as gunpowder. “Never trust a sorcerer,” he had oft
en said. “They trick you, they cheat you — and you don’t even know it. Not at the time.”
Konrad, however, had good reason to be grateful to sorcery. His arm had been saved by elf magic, and it seemed that the spell had continued to protect him against Kastring’s snake-hilted sword. For all Litzenreich’s talk of warpstone, Konrad knew it was magic that had released him from the armour. It was a subject about which he should learn more, although perhaps not now.
“You’ve always been a magician?” he said, to keep Litzenreich talking.
“Of course. It is my vocation. All my ancestors have been sorcerers. It is rumoured that some were hedge-wizards, although we never mention those. I am basically an elementalist, with a strong dash of alchemist, but I will try my hand at any of the disciplines. Why should they be separated? A master chef can cook many meals, he does not restrict himself to one dish.” He shook his head slowly. “I despair of the future. The academies seem content to turn out clever young wizards who have no interest in the ancient arts. They only care about the money they can make, about owning expensive homes and fancy carriages — and expensive and fancy women.”
“What happened to the bronze armour?”
“What? Oh, it was all melted down. I needed to extract the warpstone. It took a lot to stop the bronze knight, and a lot to get you out of the armour. Raw warpstone, I mean, as well as the powdered stuff. My supplies need replenishing, which is not easy, because it is illegal even to possess the stuff.”
“What is warpstone?” asked Konrad, having seen all that he needed to.
“There is much argument over that. It is a substance that is not of this world, or so it is generally accepted. Some say that Morrslieb is made of warpstone, but how can there be proof? No one has ever been there to find out. Or if they have, they have not returned to tell the tale.”
Konrad looked at Litzenreich and saw that he was smiling.
“There are easier sources of warpstone, however. It can be found in quantity in the Chaos Wastes, for example. As I said, current theory is that warpstone even creates the wastes and is responsible for all the mutations which are spawned there. It is fascinating stuff, and I have only begun to explore its uses. And, of course, because of its potential it is regarded as dangerous and therefore illegal. But so what?”
Litzenreich shrugged, and continued: “Magic used to be illegal; now it is legal. Warpstone is illegal; some day it will be legal. At present, it cannot be used unless in Imperial service whatever that means. Laws are only used to benefit the law makers. If there is a law preventing something, I always ask myself ‘Who made that law?’ Never confuse law and justice, they are completely different.”
“You have heard of the Gods of Law?” the wizard asked. Theologians believe that they are also the creation of Chaos. And as far as I am concerned, Law and Chaos are both used to the same purpose: to breed ignorance and despair and maintain the forces of brute strength over reason and enlightenment. Laws are imposed by our rulers in order to maintain their power. That is why I try to ignore all the rules of the colleges of magic.”
The wizard had been walking slowly around the cavern as he spoke, his eyes taking in everything that was happening. Now he had halted, and was looking at Konrad.
“It cost me quite a lot of warpstone to liberate you,” he said.
“You already said that.”
“I need more in order to continue my researches.”
Konrad knew what was coming next.
“I want you bring me more warpstone,” said Litzenreich.
“Where do I get it from?”
“You may have heard of them. They are called skaven.”
CHAPTER TEN
Konrad had indeed heard of the skaven.
It was three of the ratmen who had prevented him escaping from his native valley the day it had been attacked by the feral hordes. They had forced him to turn back, to join in the assault on the village, to witness all the foul atrocities that had been committed by the army of beastmen and their allies. Possibly this was why he had always hated skaven so much more than any other Chaos creatures. Or maybe it was because they were so much like humans, yet so different. He had come across very few during his time on the frontier. Whenever he had, they died.
Konrad was still unsure of Litzenreich and his motives. It was always the best policy to mistrust everyone, and Konrad remembered Wolf’s warnings about sorcerers. If Litzenreich wanted repaying for helping Konrad, and he were allowed to pay that debt, then he would be satisfied with the arrangement. He did not wish to be beholden to the magician for ever. What was the price of his life — a lifetime of slavery?
The dwarfs and humans who worked for Litzenreich did not seem to be slaves, however. The dwarfs were hardly even servants — they would often argue on equal terms with the wizard, although they all called him “boss”. Konrad was never sure how many people Litzenreich had working for him, but there were at least six dwarfs. The underground chambers were guarded by a dozen humans. There were also several women engaged in various abstruse tasks, and they were all fed by a halfling cook.
The sorcerer had built up quite an organization, and he must have financed it somehow. Konrad suspected he did so through trading in warpstone. If it was illegal, it was inevitable that money could be made from dealing in the substance. Litzenreich had spoken of needing warpstone for research, but Konrad was well aware that there had to be far more to it than that.
There could be no doubt that Litzenreich had saved his life, and Konrad was not a man prepared to cheat his creditors. He would do as the wizard asked, this one time. A further incentive was that his enemies were skaven, and this could be a chance to kill a number of the ugly rat-things.
“Here,” said Varsung, handing Konrad a scabbarded sword. “Don’t worry, it isn’t like the one you took from me last week!”
A week, was that all it had been? Despite a regular routine of waking and sleeping, he could not get used to measuring the days without seeing the sun rise and set. He had not been allowed on the surface, probably because Litzenreich thought he would take the opportunity to escape.
Although no longer locked up, Konrad was still a prisoner. He could not work out the configuration of Litzenreich’s base. There were so many different levels and tunnels, and so many strong doors everywhere. But by now Konrad had resolved not to leave until he had settled his debt.
He had kept studying his body, watching for some indication that it had begun to change, for hints of tough skin which might be developing into scales, for evidence that his feet were becoming hooves, for traces of hair which seemed more like fur, for signs of webbing between his fingers. But there was nothing.
Touching a mutant’s weapons did not necessarily lead to mutation, he knew. No matter how slender the risk, it was always best to be avoided, which was why such armaments were never taken as trophies. Yet he had been within the bronze for countless days, weeks, and he had almost become a part of the armour…
And if warpstone were as harmless as Litzenreich claimed, why had he worn protective armour while the bronze was being removed from Konrad? Why had the dwarfs been clad in gauntlets and gloves, and been shielded behind a barricade of metal, only watching what they were doing through mirrors?
Konrad understood what Litzenreich had said about Chaos, but he was uncertain as to whether he should believe any of it. Men used the word “Chaos” to explain all kinds of unexplainable phenomena. If the northern wastes were the lands that bred mutants, and that was the realm of Chaos, then it was only to be expected that Chaos would be considered evil because of the nature of the creatures it spawned.
How else could men describe the malevolent legions who fed on human flesh and drank warm blood, who lived only to torture and ravage, to slaughter and destroy, who were neither animal nor man, but something far less — how else could they be accurately described except as evil?
Whether it was “law” or “justice” that was opposed to such malign forces, Konrad did
not care. That was the side he was on, the banner beneath which he would fight and, if necessary, die. If Litzenreich’s enemies were the skaven, then Konrad was the wizard’s sworn ally.
He had spent most of his waking time regaining his strength and muscle tone. Litzenreich had many books for him to choose from, far more volumes than he had imagined ever existed, but their attraction had soon faded. He still did not feel entirely fit, but he craved action, and the sorcerer finally announced that it was time.
Konrad examined the blade closely. It was an excellent weapon, made by a craftsman. He checked its sharpness and flexibility, then tested the balance, practising several sweeps and thrusts. It felt wonderful to hold a sword in his grip again. He slid it back into the oiled sheath. The next time the weapon was drawn, he swore that it would taste skaven blood.
He and four dwarfs were preparing themselves for an expedition deep into the hidden heart of Middenheim. The dwarfs were the same ones who had been with Litzenreich when he had found the bronze rider, and who had removed the armour from Konrad’s body. Varsung, Joukelm, Hjornur… and the one known as Ustnar, who was in command.
It was the dwarfs who went on such raiding expeditions, Varsung had told him. The human guards were there to protect Litzenreich’s domain against his enemies. It seemed he had many, both in Middenheim and below. Skaven could smell warpstone, and so they would try to retrieve it from the sorcerer — who had probably stolen it from them originally. This was why he kept his stock in various places beneath the city, only taking it from its lead-lined boxes shortly before it was needed.
Litzenreich had other sources of warpstone. The substance was often smuggled into the Empire, but it was a very risky enterprise. The danger did not merely lie in the potential for mutation. The penalty for trading in warpstone was execution, assuming that the skaven did not find the smugglers first. The punishment they inflicted made execution seem very mild in comparison. These factors tended to make the price of warpstone very high, which was why the wizard preferred not to pay. Instead, his dwarfs stole from the skaven.
[Konrad 02] - Shadowbreed Page 13