What did he want, this stranger?' Kleiber asked softly.
The cultist' Lankdorf answered. 'Or rather, to meet with him. I watched from a small ledge that hung over the back of the town. The two men met, and the cultist I'd been following handed something to the stranger, who gave him a heavy pouch in return.' He grimaced and glanced at Alaric and Dietz. 'I was too far away to see much detail, but that package was the size of a baby. It was as long as a man's forearm, and perhaps as wide or wider. He'd wrapped it in cloth, but either he'd done a poor job or its shape was irregular, for there seemed to be odd bumps all along it.'
'You think he delivered a child to this man?' Wilcreitz sounded horrified, and outraged, and Dietz decided perhaps there was some hope for the short witch hunter after all.
The tracker shook his head. 'No, he had not had time to steal any children from the village' he replied, 'and they would have noticed immediately and fought back. We had been travelling for weeks, and he'd been carrying the wrapped package the entire way. If the stranger only wanted a small corpse he could have found one far more easily.'
'What was it, then?' Alaric asked, but Dietz already had an idea.
'The gauntlet.' The others turned to look at him, and he continued. 'It was in that cavern when we fled' he reminded Alaric. That place collapsed soon after, but a cultist could have reached it, and brought it out safely, or at least far enough to hand it to someone else nearby.'
Lankdorf was nodding. 'I suspected the same' he admitted. 'It was of a size with that accursed piece, and the cultist held it with reverence, from what I saw. The pouch was heavy, as well, so it must have had great value, at least to the robed stranger.'
Alaric glanced at Dietz, and Dietz met his friend's gaze, seeing the shock and horror, and concern on his face. They had thought the gauntlet destroyed, or at least buried
forever. It was incredibly dangerous and if it had entered the Empire, matters were grave indeed.
'The same relic you spoke of?' Kleiber asked, rising to his feet. 'An object like that cannot be allowed to remain on the loose. It must be found and destroyed at once.' Wilcreitz was right beside him.
Where is it now?' the shorter witch hunter demanded. 'What became of it, and of the man who purchased it?'
'I don't know,' Lankdorf answered, although he did not look happy with his reply. 'After they parted ways I... paid the cultist a visit. He was not expecting it, and I dispatched him easily. Then I searched for the other man's tracks and followed them.'
'Good man,' Wilcreitz said, clapping Lankdorf on the shoulder and then looking surprised at his own commendation.
'I tracked him to Altdorf,' the tracker continued, 'but there I lost him. There were simply too many people, too much movement, to keep one set of footprints in sight.' He sighed. 'I was debating what to do next, and whether there was any way to find him again or learn of his whereabouts, when I heard you were seeking a tracker.' He shrugged. 'Since I had no way of pursuing the man, and no other prospects, I applied.'
'And you have been invaluable,' Kleiber told him. 'Indeed, without your help we would never have come this far, or have discovered our friends here in time to rescue them.' He gestured at Alaric and Dietz. 'Surely Sigmar has guided you to us, and to them, and all of us together.' The witch hunter rubbed his hands together. 'He has brought us this news that we may be his instrument, and rid the world of this foul taint once and for all.'
Even Wilcreitz looked startled by this announcement. 'We have a mission already,' he reminded his superior carefully. 'We must deal with these beastmen and the blackpowder weapons they have stolen.'
'I have not forgotten,' Kleiber assured his subordinate. 'Our mission here takes precedence, certainly, but once this matter is settled, we must return and notify our superiors of the gauntlet's existence, and of the mask as well. Surely they will dispatch us to ensure that their threat is ended and their taint cleansed from this world.'
Alaric nodded. 'I know I would welcome your order's help,' he told Kleiber, turning towards Wilcreitz to make sure the second witch hunter realised he was included in the statement. 'It seems our missions already overlap, so perhaps we can aid you with the beastmen and discover the mask's whereabouts at the same time.'
'Then we can all seek out the gauntlet,' Lankdorf suggested. 'I would recognise that man if I saw him again, and perhaps other witch hunters know of him. Once I find him, I can track him, and we can take back the gauntlet by force and destroy it.' His face was flushed as he spoke, and Dietz knew their friend was also remembering the events from the cavern temple. They had seen the gauntlet's power, and had barely survived.
'We will,' Kleiber assured him. 'I will contact my superiors once we return to Altdorf, and we will put all available force towards discovering the fiend's whereabouts, and putting a stop to whatever foul plans he has devised for that cursed relic.'
'Not tonight,' Alaric suggested with a slight smile, rising to his feet. 'It is late, and I know I am tired. I can only assume the rest of you are as well.'
Wilcreitz nodded. 'Yes, we should rest,' he agreed. 'We must return to pursuing the beastmen in the morning, and it would be best not to confront them while we are fatigued.'
The others agreed, and began making their sleeping preparations. Dietz found he had Lankdorf on one side and Alaric on the other, which certainly seemed familiar.
'I feel as if I were back in the Border Princes' Lankdorf said as he stretched out on his bedroll, staring up at the sky, 'although the stars have shifted, of course.'
'I'm glad we found you' Dietz agreed, 'or you found us... or whatever.'
'As am I.' the tracker replied. 'Your witch hunter friend may be right; perhaps Sigmar did bring us all together for a reason.'
Dietz nodded, laying down and closing his eyes. I hope it was Sigmar, he thought as he started drifting off to sleep, and not someone else.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alaric woke early enough the next morning, for him, but even so he soon discovered he was one of the last to rise. Dietz, Lankdorf, and several of the others were sitting around the fire and finishing off a quick breakfast when he tossed aside his blanket and rose, stretching.
'Still the late riser, eh?' Lankdorf noted, the half-smile on his face taking the sting out of his comment.
'I see no reason to rush toward the day, when it will still be waiting when I finally reach it,' Alaric countered, stepping over to the fire and accepting a cup of tea and a hard biscuit from Dietz. Lankdorf snorted and introduced him to the three mercenaries still beside him, Hans, Felix, and Jarl, who looked similar enough to be brothers. Not that the resemblance meant much - Alaric had noticed over the past two years that mercenaries tended to fall into a handful of types, like big and bulky or tall and narrow, and most had a uniformly dusty and worn look to them. The three nodded but didn't say anything, too busy consuming
their own food. They were up and moving toward their fellows - Alaric estimated Kleiber had perhaps thirty men in all - before they'd swallowed the last bites, leaving Alaric and his two friends behind without a word.
'Don't mind them,' Lankdorf said after the trio had left. 'They're not big on casual conversation, that's all.'
'Hardly a problem,' Alaric assured him. He remembered the trek he and Dietz had made in search of the Chaos tainted statues, the same quest that had introduced them to Kleiber. The elector count of Middenheim had sent a troop of men with them, professional soldiers, and they had treated him as if he were in command. It had been unsettling at first, but he'd grown used to it after a few weeks, and to being surrounded by quiet, competent fighters who didn't care to sit and talk.
'Time to strike camp,' Wilcreitz told them as he approached. Alaric saw at once that the stubby witch hunter was one of those men who managed to always look rumpled no matter what. His uniform was clean enough, but it still looked as if he'd slept in it, which perhaps he had. Kleiber, on the other hand, always looked tidy. He was walking a few steps behin
d his subordinate, and the difference was that of a careless man to one fastidious by nature.
Alaric had a brief flash, similar to the visions that had been plaguing him of late, but with one significant difference. The land around him was suddenly awash with strangeness: severed limbs and shattered skulls, and puddles of what might be blood or other bodily fluids adorning the ground; a strange film, coating the rocks and dirt, like filth solidified or grease left to cool; clouds roiling overhead, forming lurid images before breaking apart. The mercenaries Alaric saw scattered around the camp became larger and more brutish, revealing their inner lust for violence. Lankdorf had tendrils of mist curling around him, as did Dietz. Alaric suspected they were vestiges of
their previous encounters with Chaos, showing that they had been marked, not by choice, but by proximity.
Kleiber and Wilcreitz were different. They had no Chaos taint to them, quite the opposite. Whereas the elves had looked no different to Alaric's strange vision, the two witch hunters glowed, a pure white light limning their faces and figures. The light was bright, but not blinding, and Alaric found it strangely comforting, even though it made his head throb painfully. He also realised that Kleiber had been right about Wilcreitz; whatever personality flaws the junior witch hunter might have, his intentions were pure, and he did indeed carry Sigmar's blessing.
'Herr Lankdorf' Kleiber said, 'we must locate once more the tracks of our quarry. If you please.'
Lankdorf nodded, dashed the last of his tea into the fire, handed Dietz the mug, and walked away, scooping up his gear as he went.
They came down the cliff somehow'Kleiber explained to Alaric and Dietz. 'We were unable to follow that way.'
"We saw that as well/ Alaric agreed, 'but without their claws and talons, and whatever else, we had to find a different path.'
Kleiber nodded. 'Yes, of course. I forget that you were on the same trail and only just ahead of us. Herr Lankdorf assures me he can locate the place where they reached the ground, and can then follow their tracks from that point on.'
'I'm sure he can' Alaric said. 'He's an excellent tracker.'
They joined the rest of the group, walking beside Kleiber and Wilcreitz with the mercenaries behind them. Lankdorf was up ahead, just barely in sight as he retraced his steps to the cliffs base and began to make his way around it. After an hour or so, he slowed, walking a little farther before finally coming to a halt.
'Here' the tracker called out as Alaric joined Dietz and the two witch hunters by the cliff face. 'They came to
ground right here.' Even Alaric could see the marks on the ground and on the stone beside it. They went that way.' Alaric had worried that Lankdorf would be pointing west, back into the forest, but he was indicating the north, following along the mountain's edge.
'They must have a camp somewhere nearby,' Kleiber said softly, and the others nodded.
'We do not know how far away it may be,' Wilcreitz cautioned. 'If it is close, we could stumble upon it before we have readied ourselves for battle.'
Alaric saw Kleiber open his mouth, ready to reply, and knew the broad-shouldered witch hunter would say something about always being ready, and about needing nothing more than faith in Sigmar. Fortunately, Dietz saw the motion too.
'We should scout,' he suggested. 'Leave everyone else here, just in case.'
'I'll take Dietz and Jarl,' Lankdorf offered. 'We'll go on ahead and stay out of sight. That way we'll still have the element of surprise once we do attack.'
'With knowledge of their location and defences,' Wilcreitz added, 'we can strike more effectively.'
Kleiber nodded. 'Yes, these are good points,' he agreed finally. 'We must know our enemy before we can smite him.' He turned to Lankdorf. 'Go, you may take Dietz and Jarl with you, as you asked. Find the beastmen's lair. Get as close to them as you dare, but do not fight or draw their attention unless necessary.
Lankdorf nodded and tapped Dietz on the arm. 'Let's go.' Together, they walked back towards the mercenaries, and a moment later they were passing Alaric and the witch hunters by, the mercenary named Jarl right beside them. Alaric watched the trio vanish around a bend in the rock, and then turned back to Kleiber and Wilcreitz.
'What do we do now?' he asked. In reply, Kleiber held up a small book, while Wilcreitz pulled out a needle and
thread. Behind them, one of the mercenaries already had a deck of cards out, and several of the men were hunkering down and preparing to play. Others were sharpening blades, and a few were leaning against trees or rocks with their eyes closed, displaying a career soldier's ability to nap anywhere at any time.
'We set a guard, of course,' Wilcreitz answered, nodding towards several of the mercenaries, who immediately rose to their feet and began pacing the edges of the camp, weapons in hand. 'And we wait.'
'Quietly,' Lankdorf warned as the three of them crept forward. 'They could be close by.'
Dietz nodded, as did Jarl. Neither of them spoke.
They had been walking for perhaps an hour. The tracks led to an old, worn trail and continued along it, growing heavier and more numerous, showing that the beastmen clearly came this same way often. It was hard to say how many there were, but Dietz was sure it was at least a dozen, and there were only three of them, so stealth was critical.
They rounded another bend, and Dietz studied the cliffs before them. Back near the river, the mountains tapered off into foothills. Mere they simply rose from the ground fully formed, towering above the land that ran to meet them and the occasional small valley trapped between them.
'How well do you know beastmen?' Lankdorf asked softly, his eyes scanning the area ahead.
'I've run into several,' Dietz admitted, 'including two villages full of them.'
His friend nodded. 'Good, then you know what they look like. Watch for dwellings, or anything else out of place.'
Dietz looked around. The mountains swung away, creating a wide clearing between them and the forest beyond. The massive old trees created a wall of their own, looking every bit as solid and as sinister from this distance, and
between the two Dietz saw only open ground. Then he noticed something and looked again.
Most of the mountains they'd seen in this area were smooth and sharp-edged, with clean flat surfaces and tight angles. Yet across the clearing the rock wall seemed lumpier, rougher, as if pieces of it had been chipped away, or as if the cliff had simply been scored deeply, great furrows carved into it at various heights.
Then he realised that he was seeing protrusions, not depressions, shadows and not furrows, and the sight slipped into the proper focus.
'Morr's blood,' Dietz whispered, taking a step back so he could take it all in.
'What?' Jarl asked, a hand on the heavy sword at his side.
'Look,' was all Dietz could manage. He gestured towards the far wall, and saw both Lankdorf and Jarl stare at it, obviously confused.
Lankdorf had the sharper eyes, and after a few seconds, Dietz heard a sharp intake of breath from his friend as the short tracker no doubt saw what he had seen. A minute later, Jarl muttered something that sounded like a curse, apparently noticing the scene at last.
What Dietz had seen weren't shapes carved into the cliffs, but rather piled up against them, tall shapes, far too regular and level to be natural. It was a mass of stones, most likely hewn from the mountains behind it, which explained why he had not been able to see it at first. The stone was exactly the same shade and so it blended back into the cliffs. Now that he knew they were there he could see them clearly, and the more he studied them the more obvious it was that those stones could be nothing else but a building, or several buildings.
Dietz considered the stones carefully, trying to gauge size based upon his distance from them, and shook his head after a moment, awed. The slabs looked small, but they were still two hundred feet away if they were an inch, and
possibly a good deal more. That meant they had to be massive, and he had been underestima
ting both the size of the stones and the expanse of the structures. He was staring at a city, or at least a small town. The stones formed high walls and gracefully slanting roofs, with smudges across the front that might have been balconies once. He caught a glimpse of similar structures along the sides and towards the back. Tall, narrow windows pierced the stone in several places, although he could see that shutters the same colour as the walls covered some of them, and here and there along the ground, doors broke up the surfaces of the walls. The ground seemed to be a matching grey, and Dietz suspected it was paved.
'They must be in there,' Lankdorf whispered. 'The tracks lead straight to it.'
Dietz nodded, still studying the place.
'I didn't think beastmen were that intelligent,' the tracker continued. 'I thought they were barely smart enough to handle weapons, let alone chisels and hammers. Could they have made this place?'
Dietz was wondering the same thing. He had seen a fabulous temple carved by beastmen, but that had been in Ind, and the beastmen there were very different. All the beastmen he had encountered in the Empire were savages, barely more intelligent than animals, and lived in crude huts or rough camps. He thought about the carnage he and Alaric had seen back in Nuln, and shook his head.
'They didn't make this place,' he told his two companions, keeping his voice low. 'Most likely they found it and claimed it.'
'It looks old,' Jarl said, staring, and Dietz nodded. Yes, those stones looked as if they could have been carved centuries ago. He was curious what they looked like from a closer vantage, but all thoughts of investigating fled as he spotted movement among the buildings. He froze. So did Lankdorf, who had clearly seen the flicker as well, and they
both gestured at Jarl to stand still. The mercenary obeyed at once, and all three of them stayed motionless as they squinted across the distance, searching for movement.
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