1 the claws of chaos

by ich du

  At the heart of the magical web, a cloud of energy began to coalesce, forming a vague shape. The mist rearranged itself into a vague facsimile of Ursula's face, static at first, and then growing into animated life. The picture began to shrink, until Jakob could see all of Ursula, walking through the woods, inspecting the ground. He could see the trees around her, picked out as shafts of shimmering light, and the snow on the ground sparkled within the vision.

  With a thought, he commanded the magical picture to direct him towards them girl, and the energy dimmed for a moment, collapsing into a small ball of white that flickered occasionally with reds, blues and greens. It hovered above the stones and then began to stretch, seeping out over Jakob's shoulder and wavering between the trees to the west before vanishing.

  Jakob reached out to pick up the stones, his hands prickling at the heat emanating from them. As his fist closed around the first one, the ground beneath them shimmered and glowed red, and a clawed hand shot out of the earth and grasped his wrist. With a scream, Jakob tried to wrench his hand away, but the grip was unnaturally strong. The glowing spread further and a form began to rise up in front of Jakob: an arm, then a shoulder and then the tip of a horn began to struggle through the portal he had unwittingly opened. Jakob sat there, paralysed with terror, as a daemonic figure began to push its way through the shimmering barrier. A long, thin face, with seven eyes that flicked with flames, surfaced and stared at him. A lipless mouth full of tiny pointed teeth smiled at him cruelly and the arm began to pull him closer.

  'Foolish mortal.' a voice said inside his head, fluctuating disturbingly in pitch and volume. 'I will feed on your soul, for you have not paid for what you have taken.'

  Panic flared through Jakob and he tried to get to his feet, but the emerging daemon dragged him forwards and another hand plunged through the magical mist grabbing hold of his throat. Jakob's mind was racing. What had he done wrong, what had he forgotten? Looking at the pulsing red light from which the daemon was emerging, its words still ringing inside his mind, he realised his mistake. He had not sealed the bargain with the daemon that had come to his summoning! With his free hand, he scrabbled at his belt and drew out his knife. He scored a deep cut into his other arm, and the blood ran freely over the daemon's fingers.

  A long tongue lashed out and slurped at the wound, causing pain to rip through Jakob's arm. The blood flowed out even quicker than before, as the daemon drank deep. A wave of dizziness struck Jakob, and he could feel consciousness slipping away. With a final surge of energy, he pulled himself back, breaking the grasp of the daemon, which was nearly sated, weakened by its feasting. He took a few steps away and collapsed into the snow, looking back at the horrific apparition. The daemon faded back into the ground, dissolving into a cloud of writhing colours that drained back into the rune stones.

  Waiting until he was sure the daemon had truly passed back to its own realm, Jakob lay in the snow, his head spinning and his heart thumping wildly. Such a foolish mistake, he chided himself, and yet he was also happy that his divination had been successful. Rolling over, he crawled back through the snow and gathered up the stones, noting that they were now icy cold to the touch and seemed to suck the heat from his hand. Their energy had been dissipated and it would take time for them to recover. There were rituals he could use, offering up his own blood to restore them to their power, but the daemon had already severely weakened him and there was little time left for him to find Ursula. The divination had told him to head westwards, but he had no idea how far away the girl was, or how long she would remain in that direction.

  Shuddering with the memory of the near-fatal encounter, Jakob forced himself to his feet, steadying himself against the tree, whose bark was now burnt with an image of the daemon's twisted face like a permanent shadow. Jakob packed snow onto the wound he had cut into his arm and hobbled away in the direction the light had shown him.

  URSULA POKED AT her little fire with a stick and sighed. She had wandered the forest for the whole day without being any surer of where she was. At times, her desperation and panic had returned, and she had almost given up, but digging into the reserve of strength she had cultivated through long years of wandering in her teenage years, she had pressed on. Now, with the sun setting, the forest filled with long shadows, and she decided that she must have headed in the wrong direction. There was no chance she could have gone so deep into the forest that first night. She thought she had only run amongst the trees for a short while. Tomorrow she would retrace her steps and head back the way she had come.

  A noise out in the darkness caused her to reach for her sword, which was lying next to her. A darker shadow moved between the tree trunks and she rose to her feet, balancing herself the way Kurt had taught her. The pitiful light from her fire only illuminated the forest a few yards in each direction, and she glanced behind her for signs of other movement, but could see none.

  'Put down your sword, it's me, Jakob,' she heard the Norseman call out, but she didn't relax. She saw him walk into the light, staggering slightly, his face gaunt, his eyelids drooping with fatigue.

  'Where's Kurt?' she asked, still wary. She did not trust Jakob, and did not like the idea of being out here on her own with him, but her heart still fluttered with excitement as he walked closer. For all the scorn she had for the Norscan, he could lead her to safety and back to Kurt.

  'A cabin,' replied Jakob, leaning against a tree. 'Not far away. He wait there for you. I take you there, give me time to get my strength.'

  'Are you hurt?' she said, seeing the deep cut on his arm.

  'Not important,' he waved away her concerns and straightened. 'We move now, not safe here. Marius close.'

  'Marius is here?' she said, startled. She looked around as if expecting to see the witch hunter right there with them. 'In the forest, but not very near,' Jakob assured her, beckoning her to follow him and turning away. She sheathed her sword after a moment and followed.

  The realisation that she could have blundered into the witch hunter during her aimless wandering made her legs weak and caused her stomach to tighten sickeningly. Perhaps Sigmar was still watching over her.

  'Perhaps we should go to him, ask him for mercy?' she said. 'He's a priest, he would have to offer us shelter and sanctuary. We should ask Kurt when we find him.'

  'Man who hunts us for half a year over river and through snow not likely to give us welcome,' Jakob pointed out, but Ursula's words had prompted a chain of thought. Perhaps there was a way he could dispense with Ursula once and for all, and persuade Kurt to go north at the same time.

  THE NORSEMAN HAD not been lying, about half a mile from where he had found her there was a small log building, with a small wisp of smoke drifting from the chimney hole in the roof. Jakob muttered something in his own language and hurried forward. She followed him inside, eager to be reunited with Kurt, but apart from the two of them, there was no one else there.

  'You said Kurt was waiting for me!' she said, grabbing the weary Jakob by the front of his furs. It had been the thought of seeing Kurt that had given her the strength to follow the Norscan through the thick snow, exhausted as she was from her day's travels.

  'He very worried,' Jakob said, pulling himself free. 'He must be looking for you in the woods. I fetch him. Stay here and build fire. Use only dry wood, not too much smoke to see.'

  Jakob pointed at a small pile of wood splints stacked a little way from the fire and then left without further comment. Ursula picked up a few of the staves and carefully placed them on the fire, blowing gently to make the flames catch. Happy that the fire would go for a while longer, she crossed the room to one of the benches and sat on it, resting her head on her arms on the table. Totally drained, both physically and emotionally, she drifted off to sleep.

  WEARY TO THE bone, but driven on by his sense of purpose, it did not take too long for Jakob to find van Diesl's trail again. Following this for several miles, he became aware of a glow ahead in the forest, which was quite obviously comin
g from several large campfires. They shone out like a beacon to Jakob, and he slowed his pace, suddenly wary of his proximity to the enemy.

  He approached the camp cautiously, circling it twice to locate their sentries. There were four, spread evenly around the tents. It was not too difficult for Jakob to stealthily make his way between them and get closer. There were no signs of life; the soldiers appeared to be sleeping. He could hear coughs and snores in the stillness of the night. Snow began to fall again, lightly settling on the branches above and drifting randomly down between the pines, dusting the grey tents with whiteness.

  Confident that nobody was aware of him, Jakob stole from trunk to trunk, working his way towards the closest sentry. The man was leaning with his back against a tree, dozing fitfully, and it was a matter of moments for Jakob to sneak up behind him and plunge his hunting knife up under the man's ribcage, robbing him of air for a scream and killing him silently. He dipped his hand in the blood spilling from the man's chest, and soaked a corner of his furs in the liquid as well. Making sure to spill plenty of the blood on the ground, he set off towards the cabin, leaving deep imprints in the snow as he ran, squeezing droplets of blood from his coat at occasional intervals to ensure the trail was clear.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Power

  South of Tungask, Winter 1709

  THE DOOR TO the cabin slammed open and woke Ursula with a start. She looked up, expecting to see Kurt, but framed against the door was Marius van Diesl.

  'Thank Sigmar!' Ursula cried out, running towards the witch hunter. As she attempted to embrace him, he slapped her across the face, sending her sprawling to the floor.

  'Enough of your lies, murdering witch!' he spat, grabbing for his sword.

  'Marius, wait!' Ruprecht said from behind the witch hunter, his meaty hand closing around Marius's wrist.

  'Stand back!' barked Marius, but Ruprecht's grip remained firm as he shouldered his way into the cabin. 'Unhand me or suffer the consequences!'

  'Listen to him,' Ursula pleaded, sitting up. 'Listen to me!'

  'So you can twist my mind with your insidious falsehoods again?' sneered Marius, pulling his arm from Ruprecht's grasp. 'I think not. You have avoided this fate for too long to distract me with your words now.'

  'Hear her out,' Ruprecht insisted, stepping between the witch hunter and Ursula. 'She can't do any harm.'

  'Harm?' Marius's voice was hoarse with anger. 'Badenhof lies in burnt ruins because of this one's vile ways and silken tongue.'

  'Please, hear me, I'll explain everything,' begged Ursula, standing up.

  Marius paused, glancing at the girl and Ruprecht, before sheathing his sword.

  'If you try to lie, I will strike you down where you stand,' warned Marius, striding past Ursula.

  'Kurt told me about what happened all those years ago,' Ursula began, and she saw Marius twitch at the memory. 'I was willing to stand trial against the accusations you heard, and all I ask is the same for Kurt.'

  'That trial was a sham, and you know it,' Marius argued. 'You still seek to deceive me.'

  'No!' Ursula insisted. 'The deception was not on my part, I swear by Sigmar. I'm telling the truth.'

  'And again you invoke that holy name with your unholy lips,' said Marius.

  'And I will for as long as I live, for he still remains my true guide and protector,' said Ursula, taking a step towards Marius and holding out her hand in supplication. 'Kurt is not an evil man, but he is misguided.'

  'Misguided?' asked Ruprecht from behind her.

  'Yes,' Ursula said. 'He is under the influence of a cruel northman, Jakob. This barbaric man has Kurt in his thrall somehow, and has driven him to the wicked acts you accuse him of. Give us a fair hearing, but spare no mercy for the barbarian, for he is unashamedly heathen, and worships the Dark Gods openly. I fear for Kurt while this man lives, and I beg you to help me free Kurt from his grasp.'

  'You want my help?' asked Marius, his voice full of scorn. 'You expect my pity?'

  'I do,' Ursula replied quietly. 'We need your pity as only a true man of Sigmar can give it.'

  'Marius, let me talk to you outside for a moment,' Ruprecht said, looking curiously at Ursula. The witch hunter darted a venomous stare at the girl and then nodded, following Ruprecht outside.

  Telling one of the squires at hand to go inside and guard the girl, Ruprecht turned to the witch hunter.

  'You believe her?' asked Marius, his eyes searching Ruprecht's face for some sign of dishonesty.

  'It doesn't matter what you or I believe,' answered Ruprecht after a moment. 'The important thing is how we can use this to our advantage. Listen to her, and we'll see what opportunities are presented. Kill her out of hand and we may never get Leitzig; keep her alive and she could give us some measure of power over him.'

  'You think he still cares for her?' said Marius, looking back through the door at Ursula. 'Why is she here on her own then?'

  'I don't have the answers to those questions; she has,' Ruprecht said. 'Let's hear what she has to say and then we'll think about what to do next.'

  'I see your point,' Marius said with a nod. 'But if she proves useless I will kill her here and now.'

  'If it comes to that, you'll get no argument from me,' agreed Ruprecht.

  KURT WAS TORN between two courses of action. He wanted to continue the search for Ursula, but was also of a mind to return to Tungask to see if Jakob had found her. For nearly two days, he had looked for her without even the slightest sign that he might be close, and he could see there was little else he could do. He had no food left, and had not taken the time to do any hunting. Perhaps he could go back and rouse more of the Tungask townsfolk to help in the search, or maybe she had already returned of her own accord. He had tracked back and forth within ten miles of the town with no success, and did not think that Ursula would have gone farther. Jakob may have misread the signs he had spotted, and Kurt was in the wrong place altogether. To the east was Tungask and further on the vast spread of pine alongside the Lynsk tributary. The stream itself, quite wide this side of the town, glittered in the last rays of the sun to his left. It was unlikely Ursula could have got lost out in this windswept expanse, whereas the forest was dark and forbidding and easily she could have turned astray. Deciding that his efforts were best directed in that area, he headed back towards Tungask.

  As he marched through the snow, Kurt pondered the strange course of events that had led him to be searching for his love in the wild north of the world. How had things spun so far out his control? There was no mistaking the intentions of van Diesl; his relentless pursuit of Kurt proved that he had been the target of the witch hunter's plans all along. Only the freak comment by Trevigar to Kurt had allowed the ex-knight to head off whatever nefarious scheme the witch hunter had concocted. It seemed incredible to Kurt that van Diesl was pursuing his bloody vendetta so many years after their first encounter. What madness drove the witch hunter to slaughter a family and then spend his life searching out the surviving son? For his part, Kurt, though vowing that he would kill van Diesl if he ever had the chance, had tried to put the episode behind him, to draw on the experience to give him strength and resolve, and to create whatever type of life the gods permitted him. Now the witch hunter had once more destroyed everything Kurt held dear, shattering the fragile peace that had existed in Kurt's and Ursula's lives. Not only had he tried to kill Ursula, which was sin enough in Kurt's mind, he had destroyed whatever chance she may have had for living a normal life. Kurt had laboured so hard, had endured torment and hardship, to give her a life that she had never known. Now, Marius had taken that from Kurt as well, and he felt his anger rising and his step quickening as he forged through the snow along the bank of the stream.

  Fuelled by his fury and desire to be reunited with Ursula, Kurt made good speed. He decided against returning to Tungask, and instead made directly for the forest, which spread out across the snowy plains a few miles distant. The sooner Ursula was safe, the sooner Kurt could begin
to formulate a plan to combat the witch hunter and, if the gods willed it, to finally avenge his murdered family.

  'SO YOU CLAIM that Leitzig never told you what happened to his family?' Marius said, pacing back and forth across the cabin floor, his feathered hat held in both hands behind his back. It was mid afternoon and he had been questioning Ursula for most of the day. 'He never confided his dark secret?'

  'Ask any of the Osterknacht outside.' Ursula replied, sat on the edge of the table, her feet on the bench in front of her. 'He always claimed to come from a branch of the family in the south, he never told anyone he was heir to Baron Leitzig. Until I met Kurt, I had never even heard of the Leitzig family.'

  'So when I came to Badenhof, you had no idea who I was?' continued Marius.

  'I had heard that you were a witch hunter, but no more than that,' Ursula said. 'I have already told you all this, why must you ask me again?'

  'I do not believe your story,' Marius said frankly, stopping his pacing and facing Ursula. 'Does not your flight act as proof of your guilt? If Kurt were as innocent as he claims, why would he drag you across the world, to these inhospitable climes? No, those are the actions of a man driven by guilt and fear.'

  'Fear, yes,' agreed Ursula, pushing herself off the table and striding towards the witch hunter. 'Fear of you! Fear of what you would do to me! He saw you burn his family alive, and you expect him to be rational? You think he would feel safe were either he or I in your hands? I tried to explain to him that you were doing nothing but protecting me, but his grief for his family clouds his mind. You are both as blind as each other!'

  'And you believe him?' sneered Marius, turning away again as if the sight of her offended him. 'He has lied to you, and now you are worried about his unnatural interest in the Dark Gods. Is it such a surprise? Has he not been raised under their gaze from birth? Chaos is in his blood.'