Dietz also found himself relaxing as they travelled. Despite the size of the group everyone worked together fairly well, and within a few days they had all become much better acquainted. Magnusson and Albers had become Kristoff and Fastred almost immediately, and proved to be excellent travelling companions, full of stories and local knowledge and practical experience.
Adelrich could have been Dietz’s cousin they had so much in common, including their attitudes and their quiet, no-nonsense speech, and they quickly became fast friends. Kleiber was still stiff and arrogant, and kept to himself, but he was an expert horseman and had sharp eyes—he was the first to notice approaching riders or birds of prey and alerted the others at once. Even Jülicher, stiff, officious little man that he was, became Renke and showed that he snored loudly, but was a surprisingly good road chef. The soldiers kept to themselves, camping around the others at night and riding behind them by day, but they seemed decent enough, and Adelrich knew them all and vouched for them. Their sergeant, Holst, was a career soldier of the better variety and Dietz quickly saw that he was hard but fair, and well respected by his men.
The Howling Hills lay almost directly south of Middenheim, and if they’d been alone Alaric and Dietz would have cut straight through the Drakwald to save time. However, a group this big would take forever weaving between the trees and could never hope to outrun an ambush, so they were forced to follow the road. It cut down through Leichlinberg, past Malstedt and Gerdav and Sotturm, before finally branching at Mittelweg. They took the western path, towards Hochland, and the ground grew steeper, the trees thinning and becoming shorter, interspersed with scrub brush. As the terrain rose the temperature dropped slightly and the wind picked up, until they halted just beyond Eldagsen and listened to it whistle and rumble, and howl ahead of them.
“Welcome to the Howling Hills,” Fastred announced, bowing and sweeping one arm before him as if he were a host welcoming guests into a favourite room. “Home of bandits, brigands, and beastmen.” The scenery behind him seemed well suited to such denizens. It was bleak, scraggly bushes clinging stubbornly to rocky hills, their leaves and limbs as cracked and harsh as the soil from which they sprang. The wind had carved narrow, twisting canyons between the hills and leaped through those passages, scouring them clean of dirt and plants, and pelting the travellers with the debris from its passage, forcing them to raise their hands to stop the fast-moving pebbles and twigs from striking their faces.
“A desolate place,” Renke sniffed, glancing about, “and very little of significance. Our maps have only vague markings for this area.”
“Where was the statue delivered?” Dietz asked Alaric. On their third night they had told the others the purpose of their mission, reasoning that it made little sense to hide the details. Besides, the others would not be much help if they didn’t know what to look for.
“Between Eldagsen and Zilly,” Alaric replied, reading the information from the ledger copy Struber had provided them. “Halfway, it says.”
“Zilly is a day’s ride farther on the trail,” Kristoff pointed out, running a hand through his hair. “If we ride another three hours that should place us roughly midway.”
Alaric nodded. “Let’s be off, then,” he told them, kicking his mount into a slow walk. “We’d best keep our eyes open, though. They may not have followed their own directions so precisely.”
There was another reason to stay alert, Dietz thought as he followed his employer closely. He had no desire to meet any of the locals Fastred had mentioned and he doubted their welcome would be one he’d enjoy. The others no doubt felt the same, and it was a quiet, wary group that rode along the path, weapons loose in their scabbards and eyes scanning both ground and horizon.
Not surprisingly, it was Kleiber who reined in almost four hours later. The ride had been uneventful, the landscape as boring and stripped bare here as it had been hours before. Yet the witch hunter’s sharp eyes spied something amid the rock and dirt and bushes.
“There,” he announced, pointing off to one side. “Something heavy was moved off the road.” Dietz dismounted and examined the spot the witch hunter had indicated, Adelrich right beside him.
“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Adelrich admitted quietly as they studied the area. Up close they could see where the grass had been matted down and the brush crushed by something very heavy. The destruction led south and east, into the hills proper, and they left the road behind as they followed this new path, Adelrich on foot to scout ahead. Dietz followed behind him, Adelrich’s reins looped around the top of his saddle, and the others followed after, with the soldiers bringing up the rear.
They considered themselves quite lucky that it took a full day before they were attacked.
Adelrich has just returned to report signs of beastmen in the vicinity when a crude spear flew from behind a nearby tree, just missing both him and Alaric. Several more spears appeared, and then a coarse bellow announced several beastmen an instant before they burst from cover.
These were the beastmen Dietz had expected in Ind, crude figures with rough armour and poorly maintained weapons, dirty and savage and little more than beasts with human hands. They had always struck him as being closest to goats, with long faces, short tufts of fur below long, narrow jaws, and short horns curving up from their brows. Their hides were thick and coated with shaggy fur and their legs bent backward, ending in strong hooves. Many had tails, though fortunately they were useless—he didn’t relish the idea of facing a creature that could wield a weapon from there as well. Still, this was not the time or the place to study the locals. He dispatched one with a quick knife throw and battered aside another’s club before using his second blade to spill its guts.
Glouste, recognising that her sharp teeth might not even pierce the beastmen’s thick hide, took refuge inside Dietz’s leather jacket and avoided the fight altogether. Adelrich, realising they were too close for a bow, had drawn his longsword and was slashing his way through their attackers, ducking beneath their clumsy attacks and weaving his way behind them.
Kristoff had drawn a wicked-looking blade and was wielding it with surprising enthusiasm and skill, while Fastred fired a handsome crossbow without apparently needing to reload. Kleiber held a longsword in one hand and a pistol in the other, which he traded for a long dagger after firing it. He handled both blades with such skill and ferocity that the beastmen began avoiding him. Renke had drawn a short sword and was proving to be no slouch at combat, while Holst and his men were attacking with their spears and swords, and circling around to keep the beastmen from escaping. Alaric, meanwhile, sat on his horse at the centre of the melee, sword in hand, but rarely using it to do more than slash casually at any beastman who ventured too close.
The battle was over quickly. The beastmen had been badly outnumbered, not to mention outmatched and out-equipped, and the party had been ready for an attack, responding quickly and easily. The victory, and the exertion, only served to tighten the bonds within the group, and everyone was in good spirits as they rode away, leaving the beastmen’s corpses behind among the trees and the tall grass.
Beastmen attacked several more times over the next few days. Each time the group fended them off with no casualties and no serious injuries, though several members suffered minor cuts and bruises, and one soldier’s arm was broken by a poorly blocked club strike. Adelrich proved his worth as a scout—he detected each beastman band in turn, and provided ample warning so the party was never taken by surprise. Twice, he also warned them of a much larger band nearby, one that would significantly outnumber them and that possessed several of the larger, tougher beastmen who seemed to be commanders rather than mere soldiers. Each time, Alaric chose to evade rather than fight.
“Yes, I know we might win,” he replied when Holst objected the first time, “but we might lose as well, and if we did, that statue would still be out here, doing who knows what, and it would be our fault. I am not prepared to allow that, thanks very much, so we’ll step
aside and let this band pass, shall we?” Holst had not been happy, but Alaric had finally got the hang of giving orders and did not give the sergeant a chance to counter his instructions.
“Quite a few around here,” Dietz mentioned that night, and it was Kristoff who replied.
“It was not this bad the last time I was here,” the trader admitted, idly flicking bits of bark into the fire. “Beastmen hid here, of course, but only a few and never this aggressive. The war changed everything.”
“We drove the evil from our lands,” Kleiber objected, and Kristoff smiled indulgently at the indignant witch hunter.
“No, actually,” he replied. “We defeated their army, yes, and held the city, but when their attack faltered many of the lesser soldiers fled. Most of those are still within the Empire somewhere, and many are here in Middenland—they cannot escape to another province without drawing attention, so they hide within the forest or here in the hills and survive by ambushing travellers, stealing from locals, and killing one another.” He shrugged. “I’d heard many beastmen fled here, seeking refuge within the Howling Hills. It seems those tales were true.”
“We must cleanse this land of their filth,” Kleiber insisted, but Alaric shook his head.
“That’s not our goal,” he pointed out, ignoring the witch hunter’s glare. “We’re after the statue. I’ve no problem killing any beastmen who get in our way, but we aren’t going after them. We will find the statue, destroy it, and leave.” He grinned at Kleiber. “You’re welcome to stay and eliminate the other beastmen when we go, of course.”
Kleiber refused to acknowledge the taunt. “My first task, as always, is to hunt the agents of Chaos,” he announced. “These creatures are little more than pawns, though still their foulness offends me.” He sniffed. “I will send word to the witch hunter captain,” he decided finally, “and others will rid these hills of their filth.”
It was near noon the next day when Adelrich reappeared from the trees, tapping Dietz’s foot in passing before Dietz had even registered his presence. Adelrich nodded, but didn’t stop, stalking back to Alaric, and Dietz turned in his saddle to hear the scout’s report.
“One beastman, alone, back two hundred paces that direction,” he reported, jerking a thumb back over his shoulder. “Nothing else around.”
“Did you kill him?” Kleiber demanded, and snarled when the scout shook his head.
“He didn’t see me,” he explained, “and I couldn’t take the chance.”
“What, that he might overpower you?” Kleiber sneered, and seemed delighted when Adelrich’s hand reached for his sword, but the scout caught himself and settled for resting his hand on his belt instead.
“I couldn’t risk his being a scout,” Adelrich replied slowly, as if Kleiber were an idiot. The witch hunter’s eyes bulged and his face turned red, but Adelrich ignored him, turning to face Alaric again. “Beastmen don’t normally travel alone,” he explained. “Pairs and threes are more common, or small packs like the ones that have attacked us already. If he’s alone, he might be a scout for a larger group—much larger. Killing him could have drawn their attention.”
Alaric nodded, as did Kristoff and Fastred. “So we circle around him,” Alaric decided, “and you make sure he doesn’t see us. If he does, kill him. If not we can move on and leave him none the wiser.”
It was a good plan, simple and effective, which surprised no one more than Alaric himself. Apparently he had been paying attention during some of those strategy lessons long ago—who knew?
It was a shame, and no real fault of his own, that the plan didn’t work.
Later, Adelrich guessed that the warband had more than one scout—he had noticed one, but another had seen him first and deliberately ducked out of sight. That scout had tailed him back to the group, and then returned to report their presence and their location.
All this was later, however. That day they had continued riding, secure in the knowledge that they were avoiding another fight. It was not until a spear had pierced one of the soldiers through the neck, knocking him from his horse and leaving him dead upon the ground, that they realised their error.
By then it was already too late.
Beastmen poured from the trees. This was easily the largest band they had seen in the hills, larger than the two they had avoided. Within seconds, the hills echoed with the clang of metal against metal, the rasp of steel entering flesh, the growls and snarls of the beastmen, the shouts of the defenders, and the gasps of pain when a weapon found its target.
Not only were these beastmen more numerous than in any previous encounter, they were better organised. The weapons were the same, crude spears and axes and clubs, and the occasional plundered sword or mace wielded by larger ones, but the beastmen showed more cunning in their attack. First had come a wave of spears from every side, and then the bestial warriors had launched themselves, closing the distance too rapidly for the soldiers to return fire. The larger beastmen, the ones clearly in charge, wove in among the horses, using their speed to strike and duck before their target could attack in return. Several of them stabbed horses instead of men, letting the wounded steeds topple and pin their riders. Others menaced horses with their spears, causing the mounts to rear and throw their riders to the ground, where they were quickly dispatched.
“We can’t win!” Dietz shouted to Alaric, burying his knife in a beastman’s eye and barely retrieving it in time to block another attacker’s axe. “We need to pull back!”
“Back to where?” Alaric shouted, slashing a beastman across the throat and kicking another that tried pulling him from his saddle. “They’ve got us boxed in!”
“Pick a direction!” Dietz replied, concentrating on the two beastmen now menacing him. Adelrich stepped in and carved one open from behind, but that left him open to attack, and Dietz cursed as his friend fell to a heavy mace across the head.
“Stay together!” he heard Kleiber bellow, and glanced up in time to see the witch hunter remove a beastman’s head with one blow and then slash another’s throat on the return stroke. A movement just beyond that caught his eye, and he focussed upon it to see Renke fall before a burly beastman with a massive gnarled club.
“Renke is down!” Dietz shouted to the others. “So is Adelrich!”
“Grab Adelrich and let’s go!” Fastred replied. The portly explorer turned his own mount towards Renke, charging the pair of beastmen gathering around the little man’s body. The first fell with a crossbow bolt blossoming from his chest, but the second danced back and lashed out, his clawed hand carving bloody tracks across the face of Fastred’s horse. The panicked steed reared, toppling him from his saddle, and disappeared into the trees as Fastred hit the ground. His head struck a rock with an audible thunk and the large man groaned, and collapsed.
“Go, go, go!” Kristoff was urging Dietz on and fending off three beastmen at once. Alaric had already wheeled his horse about, using the gelding’s iron-shod hooves to keep more beastmen at bay, and on his other side, Kleiber was menacing them with his flashing blades. Dietz turned back to Adelrich’s body and cursed anew as he saw more beastmen dragging the scout away. He wanted to chase after him, but knew he would fall victim himself if he did. Finally, with one last curse, he turned his horse and rode closer to the others, kicking a beastman out of his way.
Holst and his soldiers had not been idle all this time and now they regrouped around the others, using their spears to keep the beastmen back. With this new formation the beastmen could not get close, and after several more minutes one of the larger ones threw back his head and howled. The sound echoed through the clearing, and the other beastmen responded by fading back into the trees, only their dead and several distant howls and barks lingering behind.
“Is anyone hurt?” Alaric demanded after a moment, when he was sure they were not about to suffer a second attack. Kristoff was wrapping a scarf around a nasty cut across his upper arm and Kleiber was checking his sword arm where a mace had battered it, but both
shook their heads. Dietz had a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing severe. Alaric himself was untouched.
The soldiers had not fared so well. “I lost four men,” Holst reported grimly, “and two more are too injured to fight. Three others were taken.”
“So were Adelrich, Renke, and Fastred,” Dietz added. He waited, as did the others, while Alaric considered this information. It didn’t take long, and for once Dietz was glad of his employer’s romantic notions.
“Well,” Alaric said, letting out a sigh. “I suppose we shall have to go after them.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“They’re good as dead already,” Kristoff protested, raising his hands apologetically when the others turned on him. “Look, I liked them as much as you did, and I’m sorry they’re gone, but I know beastmen—I’ve had run-ins with them before.” He had regaled them with a few of those tales on previous nights, when they had sounded like charming little scrapes. “They’re vicious bastards, the lot of them.”
“So we have seen,” Kleiber affirmed, flexing his sword arm and wincing.
Kristoff shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. Yes, they’re nasty in battle—this band was bigger and smarter than most, but they’re all bloodthirsty brutes. It’s after the battles I’m talking about.” He shuddered slightly, and then leaned forward, his narrow face intense. “They don’t take prisoners. No use for them.”
“They took Adelrich, Renke, and Fastred,” Dietz corrected him, “and three of Holst’s soldiers.”
“Yes, I know, but not as prisoners.” Kristoff shuddered again. “As sacrifices and as food.”
“What?” Alaric had been sitting quietly, listening, but now he leapt to his feet. “You’re saying they’ll eat them?”
Kristoff nodded. He looked miserable. “If they haven’t already.”
Alaric wheeled his horse about. “We’ve got some time though, yes? Until they reach their camp, light their fires, pray to their gods, and thus forth?”
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