3 rotten fruit

by ich du

  'Absolutely not,' said Manfred. 'They are deserters. We cannot count on their loyalty, or their courage.'

  'They are trapped just as we are, my lord. They have little choice but-'

  'Silence! I have said no.' Manfred gestured at Klaus. 'Voorman, arm the prisoners and guard the north wall with them. You are their captain.'

  Voorman saluted. Reiner snarled under his breath.

  'STIFF-NECKED FOOL,' said Reiner, furious. 'His righteousness will get us killed.'

  The Blackhearts sat on a pile of rubble in a gap in the north wall. The rubble spilled down into the moat, almost creating a bridge to the far side, but there were no blast marks to indicate that the wall had been brought down by artillery. Instead the rocks were cut with great gouges, as if from something impossibly strong had torn them down with its claws. The thought made Reiner shudder.

  'Don't know why he cares,' said Hals. 'He don't have a problem using us, and I'll lay odds we're a nastier lot than them bandits.' 'Aye.' said Reiner. 'But he doesn't have the leash around their necks he has around ours.'

  'We should just light out for Marienburg and leave him in the lurch.' said Pavel.

  'The poison would reach us even there.' said Reiner. 'Even if we could escape the net of vines this sorceress has woven around us.'

  'I no want to die.' said Giano. 'Not for foolishnesses.'

  'Nor do I.' growled Hals.

  'What are you lot jawing about?' said Klaus, from the tower of rubble above them where he stared vigilantly into the night.

  'Nothing, sergeant.' said Reiner. 'Only plotting mutiny. That sort of thing.'

  'None of your lip, Hetzau.'

  Reiner looked below them where Groffs conscripts were wedging sharpened poles into the rubble. Beyond the moat, a wagon full of scrap lumber and brush was crossing the field as more conscripts built bonfires at regular intervals. He sighed. 'I think it's up to us to save ourselves, lads. What do you say we go find those bandits? It's a poor chance, but it's better than sitting here waiting for death.'

  The others shot nervous glances up at Klaus, then leaned in.

  'I'm in.' whispered Hals. 'If you've a way.'

  'Won't Manfred unleash the poison?' asked Franka.

  'Not until he knows we're gone,' said Reiner. 'And when the battle begins, he'll be too busy to check on us.'

  'Or so you hope.' said Franka.

  Reiner shrugged. 'We might die if we try. We will certainly die if we don't.'

  Pavel swallowed. 'I'm in.'

  'And I.' said Franka, at last.

  'And me too also as well.' said Giano. 'But what we do about...?' He jerked his chin toward Klaus. 'If he tell on us, then...' He drew his finger across his windpipe.

  'We'll have to dispose of him.' said Reiner.

  'Kill him?' asked Franka uneasily.

  Reiner smirked. 'No need to go so far. Plenty of places in all this mess to hide him until we get back.' He looked up. 'Hoy, sergeant. I seem to have cut myself. I don't think I can participate in forthcoming conflict.' 'Hey?' cried Klaus. 'Not participate? Damned if you won't. Let me see this cut of yours.'

  Hals grinned and balled his fists as Klaus climbed down to them.

  'STAND WHERE YOU are, dead men!'

  The Blackhearts raised their arms as a score of spears and five times as many arrows pointed their way.

  After binding and gagging Klaus and tucking him behind a fall of rubble, then crossing the moat with the help of a scaffolding ladder, they had stolen one of the wagons which had been building the bonfires, and rode towards the bandit camp. Now, having found it, Reiner was having second thoughts.

  A huge, broad-chested villain with matted grey hair and a filthy beard stepped through the outlaws, a scrawny boy at his side who had the swaying gait and roving eye of an idiot.

  'Brother,' said Reiner. 'We come...'

  'Shut yer gob!' said the giant. He urged the boy forward. 'Sniff 'em out, Ludo. See if they've the taint.'

  The boy wove to the Blackhearts' wagon like a dreamer and reached out limp hands. Reiner recoiled. Giano made the sign of Shallya, but they dared not move. The idiot sniffed and fondled them like a dog with hands, then with a whimpering sigh lay his head on Reiner's leg. At this the outlaws relaxed a little.

  'Well,' said the giant. 'Yer not touched ones at any rate. What do y'want?'

  'We come to ask a boon,' said Reiner, trying not flinch from the idiot's fawning. 'The touched ones, as you call them, mount an attack on Lord Groff's castle, which is grievously undermanned. He and Count Manfred need your help.'

  The outlaws roared with laugher.

  'Groff needs our help?' asked the leader. 'Groff, who hangs us for hunting the deer of the forest. And another jagger who's no doubt just as bad? Why should we help the likes of them?'

  'Because the alternative is worse.'

  'Yer mad. I'll dance a jig when Groff is dead.'

  'Would you rather the touched ones ruled here in Groffs stead?' asked Reiner. 'Where would you be then?'

  The outlaws were silent.

  'Groff may hang you now and then,' Reiner continued, 'but at least that death comes quick. How many have you lost to the dark lady's seduction? Good men gone rotten, running naked in the woods, stealing your children to sacrifice to their daemon masters. Is that what you want?'

  The outlaws muttered among themselves.

  The giant crossed his arms. 'Nobody wants that. But we don't care to walk into a noose either. What's our guarantee that Groff, or this Manfred, won't turn around and hang us after we've saved their worthless hides?'

  'I can offer you no guarantee,' said Reiner, 'but I have some sway with Manfred at least, and I will do what I can. Count Manfred is an honourable man. He may even reward you.'

  Franka shot him a look at that. Reiner shrugged. He hoped it wasn't a lie, but he had to say something.

  After a moment's conversation with his lieutenants, the big man turned back to Reiner. He nodded. 'Alright, silver-tongue, you've convinced us. Lead on.'

  A RED GLOW above the trees as the Blackhearts and the bandits approached the castle gave evidence that battle had already been joined. The noise came next. The clash of steel on steel, the cries of men and the screams of horses. When they reached the fields, Manfred's bonfires illuminated a grim scene. The massed cultists - one couldn't call them an army - attacked the ruined castle from all sides, undisciplined but bloodthirsty. They had bridged the moat with tree-trunks, and pressed Groff's meagre forces and Manfred's few knights fiercely at every gap in the walls.

  Hals gaped when he saw them. 'The madmen! What're they about?'

  Franka giggled.

  Reiner grimaced. 'Some things are better covered by darkness.'

  The cultists, despite the cold of the spring night, were naked, their only covering swirls of purple and red, which looked more like smeared fruit and blood than paint. But, though naked, they were armed. Men and women, young and old, wielded swords and spears and clubs and bows, and though many seemed unlearned in their use, there were so many of them, and they were so frenzied in their unholy ecstasy that even alone they might have carried the day.

  Unfortunately they were not alone.

  Leading them were troops of a different calibre altogether. Fighting at the wall were immense warriors in black and purple armour, while, further out, purple-clad bowmen cut down defenders with impossible accuracy. 'Northmens,' whispered Giano.

  'We fought that sort at Brozny,' said Pavel, shuddering. 'Their swords had spikes in the hilts which pierced their own hands as they fought.'

  Hals nodded. 'Pain was like drink to them. They loved it.'

  'Well,' said Reiner. 'There ain't enough of them to take the castle without their followers. If we can drive them off we'll at least give Groff a fighting chance.'

  Loche, the bandit leader, smiled. 'You leave that to me.'

  LOCHE BROUGHT HIS men to the wood's edge and spread them out.

  'You'll never hit them from here,' said Reiner, prim
ing his handgun.

  'No,' said the bandit. 'Groffs cut the woods back two bow shots for that very reason. We'll have to come up to the first hedgerow.'

  He signalled his men forward and they and the Blackhearts advanced at a jog. Fortunately, the cultists, expecting no reinforcements, had posted no rear guard. The bandits reached the hedgerow with no alarm raised.

  'Ready boys?' asked Loche.

  The bandits put arrows to strings and flexed their bows. Franka did as well. Reiner and Giano raised their handguns. Hals and Pavel, pikemen with no skill with a bow, stood by with second guns, ready to reload while Reiner and Giano fired.

  'Fire.'

  With a thrum like a hundred guitars, the bandits loosed their shafts. Reiner's and Giano's guns cracked like snare drums. The arrows disappeared into the night, but reappeared as if by magic in the bare flesh of the cultists, who screamed and fell by the score.

  It took the madmen a moment to understand their plight, and by then, more feathered shafts were cutting them down. A wave of panic overcame them and they ran in all directions, dropping their weapons. Reiner wondered that men so frenzied that they stormed a castle naked would lose courage under fire, but facing an enemy you can see is very different from invisible death speeding from the night.

  'Don't waste arrows on the runners, boys,' said Loche. 'Let's circle and strike at another...'

  But suddenly it was the bandits who were falling and screaming as feathered death whistled among them. Worse, even those only scratched were falling and writhing in agony, clawing at their wounds as if they were on fire.

  Reiner looked at the arrows. They were the same that had riddled the coach on their flight from the ambush.

  'The purple archers,' growled Loche, as his men pressed into the hedgerow. 'Concentrate yer fire, boys.'

  Reiner sited along his gun barrel as the bandits nocked fresh arrows, but something behind the purple archers caught his eye. Below the north wall, a handful of Northmen, their black armour flashing red in the light of the bonfires, crossed the moat on a plank, and crept toward the postern gate. There were no troops to stop them. Most of the fighting was on the far side of the castle. If this little force could somehow break down the iron-bound door...

  Reiner checked as the postern gate swung suddenly open. What treachery was this? Reiner squinted, trying to identify the shadowed figure who let the warriors into the castle. It was impossible. He cursed. The Blackhearts looked around.

  Reiner pointed. 'Our efforts may be for naught. Someone lets the Northers in by the back gate.'

  Loche looked up. 'Hey?' He peered forward.

  Franka groaned. 'We'll have to stop them,' she said. 'Unless we wish to die in this cursed wood.'

  Reiner glared at the girl. She was right, but the last thing he wanted to do was hunt through dark corridors after Northern marauders. They'd faced their like before, and nearly died of it. 'It'll take more than the five of us to bring those monsters down. Loche, we...' 'Not to worry.' said the big man. 'I ran from them once, and won my coward's brand for it. I'll not run again. Murgen, Aeloff, pick ten men and come with me.'

  'Ten and five.' Hals swallowed, nervous. 'I hope it is enough.'

  REINER AND LOCHE and their men entered the open postern gate and peered into the empty kitchen garden. Sounds of the battle echoed around the bulk of the keep, but it was quiet here.

  'Where are they?' whispered Pavel.

  'Shhh!' hissed Giano, cupping his ear.

  They held their breath. From over the garden wall they heard a closing door.

  The party started cautiously forward, but Franka slipped quickly ahead. 'I'll keep 'em in sight.' she said.

  'Frank... Franz! Wait!' called Reiner, but the girl had already slipped into the garden.

  'Come on.' growled Reiner. Damn the girl. He'd had enough of her foolish bravery.

  As they entered the kitchen they saw Franka waving them towards the cellar stairs. They followed, and caught up with her at the door to the dungeon.

  'What are they doing?' asked Reiner.

  'Forcing a cell door.' replied Franka.

  'Ah. Udo.'

  The sound of steel biting into wood echoed down the narrow hall. Lantern light flickered from a door at the end. Franka started ahead. Reiner stopped her and went forward himself. She gave him a dirty look.

  Reiner peered into a low-ceilinged guard room with stout oak doors on each wall. The Northmen had just broken the lock of one and were swinging it open. Udo stepped out and embraced the smallest warrior, who Reiner suddenly realized was the sorceress, dressed in black armour of barbaric splendour. Her six companions wore black and purple as well, and disturbingly, though they were as fiercely bearded as any Northman, were as rouged and painted as Marienberg streetwalkers. Udo's manservant, Stier, stood with them, holding a lantern. It was he, Reiner realized, who had let them in.

  After receiving Udo's enthusiastic kiss, the sorceress stepped back. 'It is time, beloved, to seize your destiny. Are you ready?'

  The boy nodded, unable to look away from her eyes. 'I am ready.'

  The beauty removed a jewelled broach from her cloak. The pin was covered in black crust. 'Then take this and go to your father. A mere scratch and he will fall. When Manfred and his knights turn to assist him, prick as many of them as you can. We will be nearby, ready to protect you from any survivors.'

  Udo hesitated, looking at the broach. 'Will it be... painful?'

  'Worry not, my sweet,' said the witch, caressing his cheek. 'Your father will not suffer. In fact he will die of an excess of pleasure.'

  She turned towards the door with Udo. Her men fell in around her. Reiner backed down the corridor to the waiting bandits.

  'Bows out,' he hissed. 'Pin 'em inside the room.'

  He and Giano shouldered their guns as the others raised bows. Two warriors filled the door, eclipsing the room behind them with their bulk.

  'Fire!'

  The warriors bellowed as the barrage battered them. Most of the arrows glanced off the ebony armour, but a few struck home, and Reiner and Giano's shots smashed through brains and bone. The Northmen fell. Behind them, Udo stared at an arrow sticking from his arm.

  'I... I am... hit!'

  The sorceress snatched him back into the room as one of her warriors leapt forward, sword drawn, and the last three backed up, protecting her.

  'Fire!'

  Reiner dropped his handgun and fired his pistol as the bandits' bowstrings thrummed in his ears. The massive warrior took the ball and a thicket of arrows full on. He kept coming, eyes blazing with ecstatic fury.

  'Fire!'

  But the Northman was on them before they could reload. Pavel and Hals shouldered Reiner and Giano aside and jammed their spears into the warrior's chest just as he reached their line.

  The force of his charge drove them skidding back, but at last he stopped, blood erupting from his painted mouth as he fell.

  'Die hard, don't they?' said Loche, swallowing.

  'Aye,' agreed Hals.

  The bandits stood with bows flexed, waiting for the rest of the warriors to spill from the room, but they didn't come.

  'Don't advance,' said Reiner, reloading his pistol. 'We're in a better position here than fighting them in an open room.'

  'No fear, Silvertongue,' said Loche. 'No fear.'

  A noise returned their attention to the guard room. Reiner aimed his pistol, but no berserk warriors spewed forth. Instead, stepping into the hall was the sorceress, arms raised... and naked.

  'Hold,' she said. 'I would parlay.'

  Reiner and the Blackhearts and the bandits stared, open-mouthed, as she paced forward, her ripe curves swaying with every step. 'You wouldn't shoot an unarmed woman, would you?'

  Reiner began forming a joke about the woman being better equipped than most armies, but it died in his throat as a delicious scent reached his nose. It wafted from her like musk - vanilla and jasmine - and drifted into his brain like fog.

  He tried to tell t
he others to shoot her before she ensorcelled them all, but found himself unable to speak or raise his gun. The others seemed similarly affected.

  The sorceress continued forward, smiling sweetly. 'In fact, you would kill any man who tried to harm me, wouldn't you? You would defend me to the death.'

  She stopped in front of them. Reiner fought to free his mind, but her beauty was all-consuming. He couldn't tear his eyes away. He would do anything for her - die for her - if she would only take him into her arms. He heard bows and guns clatter to the floor as they fell from slack hands.

  'You, boy,' she said, pointing at Franka. 'Your captain raised his gun to me. Will you protect me? Will you cut his throat?'

  Franka nodded and wove towards him, drawing her dagger, glassy-eyed. Reiner raised his chin obligingly. It was true. He had tried to kill the sorceress. He deserved to die.

  The woman smiled at Franka. 'Of course you will,' she said. 'No man can resist me.'

  Franka stepped to Reiner, raising her dagger. The sorceress licked her lips, her eyes eager.

  Suddenly, Franka spun and stabbed the dark beauty in the throat. She stared, open mouthed, more shocked at Franka's disobedience than at the dagger in her neck.

  Franka smirked. 'Fortunately, I am no man.'

  The woman fell, blood pouring down over her alabaster breasts. The spell was broken. Reiner shook his head. The others did the same, cursing and groaning.

  'No! Beloved!'

  Reiner looked up. Udo was racing at them, sword above his head. 'Murderers!' he cried. 'Savages!'

  Behind him came the three remaining Northmen.

  Reiner fired but missed. The bandits were still picking up their dropped weapons and got off only a few shots. Reiner drew frantically, and met Udo sword on sword as Pavel and Hals thrust their spears at the Northmen and the bandits rushed to back them up.

  'Foul defiler!' shrieked Udo. 'To kill such a gentle-'

  Reiner ran him through. The boy curled in on himself and fell. Reiner felt unexpectedly guilty. There was no glory in killing fools.

  Around him, the Blackhearts and the bandits were attacking the Northmen with all their might, but the corridor was too narrow and too crowded to make a good swing, and the warriors' armour was too strong. The men could hardly dent it.