01 - Valnir’s Bane

by Nathan Long - (ebook by Undead)

  Franka, Pavel and Hals cheered.

  Giano gave a satisfied grunt. “We do our job, hey? They paying us now? Give us reward?”

  Reiner nodded. “Aye, I hope so. We’ve done the hard work. Killed Erich and Albrecht and…” He stopped, then spun, cursing. “The witch! Where is she? We’ve forgotten the evil harridan who was the cause of it all.”

  The others turned as well, looking for Lady Magda. She was no longer where Oskar had laid her out. They looked down the slope. She was nowhere to be seen.

  “Curse the woman,” said Reiner. “She’s as slippery as an Altdorf barrister. Find her.”

  But though they combed the hill all the way down to the smouldering woods, Lady Magda was nowhere to be found.

  “She’s flown the coop, captain,” said Pavel as they all gathered at the crest again.

  Hals spat. “Wouldn’t I have liked to have seen her burn at the stake?”

  Franka nodded. “Better her than poor Oskar.”

  They surveyed the field again. While they had searched, the battle had come to an end. There was still some mopping up going on, but for the most part the Kurgan had retired from the field, scrambling into the hills above Nordbergbruche castle and back into their holes. A large force of Empire troops was marching up the causeway to the castle gates and meeting little resistance.

  Reiner turned away from the scene with a weary grunt, looking for a place to sit and tend his wounds, when he saw movement at the bottom of the hill. Knights were advancing up toward them at a walk, supported by a company of greatswords. It was Manfred.

  Reiner sighed. “Here comes his nibs. Time to face the music.”

  He tried to brush the soot and dirt from his jerkin and tidy up his kit as best he could. The others did the same. It was pointless. They all looked like they’d been dragged through a briar patch backwards.

  Manfred reined to a stop before his brother’s body, his generals around him. He gave the corpse a long, sad look.

  Reiner swallowed, nervous, and saluted. “My lord. I can explain. It is as I said before. The banner, which you must have seen, gave Albrecht…”

  Manfred held up his hand. There is no need to explain, you blackhearts. “Tis obvious what happened here. You have disobeyed me by escaping from the confinement I put you in, and you have killed my noble brother.” He turned to the captain of the greatswords. “Captain Longrin, fetch a litter for my brother’s body and bring him to his rooms in Nordbergbruche once they have been prepared. Be sure to drape the banner of our house over him, that all may know that a hero died today. Then arrest these men and see that their wounds are seen to. It wouldn’t do for them to die before I had the pleasure of hanging them. When they are presentable, have them brought to me. I wish to interrogate them personally.” He reined his horse around. “Now let us hurry. I want to see what those animals have done to my home.”

  The greatswords advanced on Reiner and the others, who stood open-mouthed with shock. They had expected angry questions, or an argument over whether they had done right or wrong, but this curt dismissal flabbergasted them.

  “Y’ungrateful bastard,” snarled Hals at Manfred’s retreating back. “Y’bleeding boil on Sigmar’s arse. Y’don’t know when somebody’s done ye a favour, do ye? Well I hope y’get the pox and it falls off.” He spit. “I wish I had it to do all over again. I woulda’ took the hanging at the beginning and saved myself the trouble.”

  Captain Longrin slapped Hals across the face with a mailed glove, knocking him to the ground. “That’ll be enough of that, gallows bird.” He motioned to his men. “Bind ’em, lads. They’ve still some fight in ’em.”

  The greatswords tied the wrists of the company and marched them down the hill.

  “Curse all counts,” said Reiner bitterly. “Never will I trust another.”

  “Hear hear,” said Franka.

  But Manfred was as good as his word, at least in one regard. Reiner and his companions received the best care. Their wounds were salved and bound, their broken limbs set and wrapped in plaster casts. They were fed and cleaned and dressed in plain, but well-made clothes, and then placed in an empty barracks tent to wait upon Manfred’s pleasure, under a much more alert guard than before.

  Pavel, Hals and Giano took advantage of the delay to lie on the cots and get some shut-eye, but Franka sat huddled in a corner, glaring at nothing. The company had been separated in the hospital tent as their various hurts had been seen to, and Reiner suddenly realised that Franka’s masquerade might have been discovered.

  He sat down next to her and spoke in a whisper. “Er, has your, er, manhood survived?”

  She shook her head. “I fought them, but they gave me a bath.”

  Reiner sighed. She choked out a sob and butted her head against his shoulder. “I don’t want to go back!”

  He put an arm around her. “Shhh, now. Shhh. You’ll wake the others.” He chuckled bleakly. “And there’s no fear of you going back. They’ll hang you with the rest of us.”

  She fought to smile. “Aye, there’s a comfort.”

  After another hour, as the sunset turned the walls of the tent a deep glowing orange, a captain of the guard opened the flap. “File out, scum.”

  They stood, hissing and groaning, their wounds stiff, and followed him out. A double file of greatswords flanked them as they marched through the camp and came at last again to Manfred’s magnificent tent. The captain held the canvas aside and they entered one by one.

  It was dark in the tent, only a few candles illuminating the rich fabrics and dark woods of Manfred’s furniture. Manfred sat in a fur-draped chair. Three more men sat in the shadows behind him. All were dressed in fine clothes and fur cloaks. To Reiner’s surprise, there were no guards present, and five empty camp chairs waited for them, facing Manfred.

  The companions hesitated in the doorway.

  “Forgive me for not seeing you in my home,” said Manfred. “But the savages have made it unlivable. There is much cleaning to be done. Please sit.”

  They sat, looking around suspiciously, afraid it was some new kind of trap.

  “Gollenz!” called the count. “Wine for our guests.”

  A servant came out of the shadows with goblets of wine on a silver tray. Reiner and his companions took them as warily as they had taken their seats. Perhaps Manfred meant to watch them die in throes of agony from poisoned wine. Or perhaps he meant to drug them to make them talk.

  When the servant had retired, Manfred leaned forward. He coughed, seemingly embarrassed. “Er, I want to apologise for the deception I employed earlier. There was indeed no need to explain, for when that unholy banner appeared on the hilltop, I knew that you had told the truth, and that my brother did mean to slay me.”

  “But then…” said Reiner.

  Manfred held up a hand. “I and the Empire owe you all a debt of gratitude that we can never repay. You, more than any others in my army, have won this day, and the destruction of the Bane has prevented its influence from spreading any further. You have saved the Empire from a long and fratricidal war.”

  “So…” said Reiner.

  Manfred coughed again. “Unfortunately, in these troubled times, with the great war over but the cost not yet counted, and the rebuilding still to be done, the morale of the citizenry is low. It would not do for them to believe that their lords were so weak that they could be corrupted as Albrecht was corrupted. They must not learn of his betrayal and the falling out between us. It would shake their faith in the nobility just when they most need us to be strong.”

  A cold coil of dread snaked around Reiner’s heart. Something bad was coming.

  “Therefore,” said Manfred. “Though it pains me to do it, you will still charged with Albrecht’s crimes.”

  “What!” barked Hals.

  “The public needs a villain, a focus for their hatred. A scapegoat who can be disposed of so that life can return to normal.”

  “And we’re it,” said Reiner hollowly.

 
Manfred nodded. “It will be your greatest service to the Empire.”

  Hals pounded the arm of his chair and rose. “Y’twisty little worm! Y’admit we saved your skin, and the Empire’s, and still ye mean to give us the drop? I’m starting to wonder if we’re fighting on the right side!”

  Manfred raised his hand again. “I haven’t finished.” He waited until Hals sank back into his chair. “I said it will be your greatest service to the Empire, but it will not be your last. You will be hanged with great public spectacle in Middenheim in a week’s time.”

  Franka tried to hold in a sob, but failed.

  “At least,” continued Manfred, “the crowd will believe it to be you. In reality it will be some other garrison scum: deserters, saboteurs, the like.”

  A spark of hope kindled in Reiner’s chest. “So you mean to free us after all?”

  “You will be freed, eventually. But first you will have the honour of further serving your Empire.”

  The spark of hope fizzled out, and the feeling of foreboding began to creep over him again. “How so?”

  Manfred smiled thinly. “The more I thought about what you accomplished here today, and the lengths you went to achieve it, the more I came to believe that we could make use of you.” He leaned forward again. “The Empire needs blackhearts like yourselves—men who will do things that would be beyond the pale to the average soldier, men who are not awed by rank or power, who think for themselves and keep their wits in desperate situations.” He took a sip of wine. “Battles are not the only way the Empire stays strong. There are less honourable deeds that must be done to keep our homeland safe. Deeds no true-hearted knight could allow himself to undertake. Deeds only knaves, villains and dishonoured men could stomach.”

  “Y’high-talking twister!” growled Hals. “All yer fine manners and all yer asking is for us to do your back-stabbing for ye!”

  “Precisely,” said Manfred. “After your doppelgangers are executed, you will become invisible. No one in the world but myself and the men you see before you will know that you still live. You will be ciphers, able to enter any situation and become who we wish you to be. The perfect spies.”

  “And what if your perfect spies decide they don’t want to do your dirty work?” asked Reiner. “What if they decide to slip their leashes? These brands are only a death sentence within the Empire.”

  “Aye,” said Giano, crossing his arms. “I be my own man. No one control me.”

  “Do we not?” asked Manfred. “My brother had the right idea, branding you, but his methods were crude.” He motioned to the man behind him on his left, a white-bearded ancient in the black robes of a scholar. “Magus Handfort is a member of the royal college of alchemy. He has developed a poison that can be activated from afar, at any time he chooses. While the surgeons were tending to your wounds, they rubbed this poison into your cuts.” He raised his hand as Reiner and his friends began to stand and protest. “Take your ease, please. The solution is perfectly harmless until the magus reads aloud a particular incantation. Only then will you die a horrible agonising death.” He smiled, as warmly as if he were wishing them a happy and prosperous new year. “And he will only read the incantation if you fail to report back to me at the end of the assignments I shall give you.”

  “You swine,” said Reiner. “You’re worse than your brother. At least he offered a reward if we completed our mission. At least there was to be an end to our bondage.”

  “My brother never intended to honour his end of the bargain, as you well know,” said Manfred. “And he used you for his own interests, whereas now you will be working for the good of the Empire.”

  “He said that too,” said Pavel.

  “You will be well rewarded,” continued Manfred. “When duty does not call you, you will live well indeed, within the walls of my castle. And when this time of crisis is over and the terror is at last vanquished, you will be freed from your service and given riches enough to build entire new lives. In addition, as you have all died, all your crimes will die with you.” He gave Franka a significant look. “Your secrets will remain buried in your past, and you may live as you choose, new men.”

  Reiner and his companions looked blankly at Manfred as he sat back and folded his hands in his lap.

  “So,” he said. “What have you to say? Do you take my offer? Will you help the Empire in its hour of need?”

  “I’ll say what I said to your brother,” sneered Reiner. “We haven’t much choice have we?”

  “No,” said Manfred. “You have not.”

  A short while later, riding toward Nordbergbruche castle in a coach with heavily curtained windows, Reiner and his companions looked at each other glumly.

  “That some loads of horse mess, hey?” said Giano.

  “Aye,” said Pavel. “Until the terror is vanquished, he says. The Empire has stood for two thousand years and there’s always been some terror or other banging on the gates.”

  “We’re in it for the duration all right,” said Hals.

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” asked Franka.

  Reiner shook his head. “Not unless we can find a way to flush the magus’ poison from our system. But until then…”

  “Until then,” said Pavel, “they have us.”

  “Aye,” growled Hals. “By the short hairs.”

  Reiner laughed and couldn’t stop. His life might have become a never-ending nightmare, but at least the company was good.

  Scanning, formatting and basic

  proofing by Undead.