by ich du
Was this how it felt all the time, he thought, in the north, the source of the power? How did the barbaric sorcerers that dwelled there control such amounts of energy? It was impossible for Magnus to imagine the sheer potential of harnessing such vast waves of magic.
And yet the girl managed it, untrained as she was. She had been somehow touched by her experiences and yet had survived. The girl, Magnus thought, as sleep still failed to envelop him; she could perhaps provide the key.
AFTER BREAKFAST, AT which Ruprecht, Ursula and Johannes had eaten alone, served by a young kitchen boy, a page appeared and requested Ursulas presence in the audience chamber once more. She insisted that Ruprecht and Johannes accompany her. The large hall was once more almost empty: only Vapold, Magnus and Bayard were present, sat around one end of a long table that had been placed in front of the counts throne. Between them were bowls of fruits, plates of cold meat cuts, crumbling white cheese and starchy bread, with pitchers of wine, and Vapold was using a knife to cut slices from an apple, his feet up on the table.
'I did ask just for you,' the count said, standing and pulling out a chair for Ursula. She did not sit.
'They stay, or I leave,' she replied, crossing her arms.
Vapold paused and glanced at Magnus and Bayard, who raised no objections. Stepping back, he waved all three to sit down before resuming his place at the head of the table.
'So, where do we start?' the count asked, looking around the table. 'It appears that events have caught up with us, perhaps, and they may be connected or not.'
'What events?' asked Johannes.
'I want to know what happened with Leitzig,' said Bayard, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, a half-full goblet held in his hands. He was out of his armour, dressed in a plain black doublet and purple breeches. 'Our recent misfortunes are of no concern to these people.'
'I disagree,' said Vapold quickly. 'Ursula wishes me to gather an army to combat the growing menace in the north, but the news that you bring may well influence my decision.'
'What news?' asked Ursula, exasperated at their coyness. 'Just tell me what's happening.'
Bayard and Vapold looked at each other for a long moment, before Bayard conceded, nodding slightly and looking away.
'Count Emmereind of Ostermark is dead,' said Vapold with a sigh.
'Murdered,' added Bayard quickly. 'Baron Steinhardt has seized the count's palace, and is even now petitioning the other nobles to recognise his claim to be count.'
'Then why are you here?' asked Johannes. 'Surely your place is in Bechafen, fighting against Steinhardt?'
'We fought, but the Osterknacht is not the force that it was,' replied Bayard, giving Ursula a dark look. 'That is the fault of Leitzig. Nearly half the order chased you into Kislev, and many did not return. Seeing this, Steinhardt has spent these past few years gathering support and hiring mercenaries in the south. He has even offered haven to soldiers from Solland and Wissenland, survivors from the fighting against the Ironclaw.'
Bayard's expression had grown pained, the lines in his face deepened, and he took a sip of his wine.
'We tried to hold the palace, but it was in vain,' the knight continued. 'Those of us that survived decided to withdraw, and my plan was to escape with the count and his younger brother, Hensel. We managed to reach Hensel, but Steinhardt got to Count Emmereind before us. We thought perhaps he would hold him to ransom, but instead had him killed. I panicked, I admit, and we fled with Hensel. He is the true heir to the Ostermark Runefang, and he had to be kept safe.'
'That is disturbing news, I agree.' said Ursula, looking at Vapold. 'But what concern is it of yours?'
'My concerns are twofold.' the count replied, tossing his apple core onto the table. 'Emmereind was my cousin, distantly by my great aunt, but he is still family. I have a duty to protect Hensel as well. I'm sure you can understand that.'
'And the other?' said Ruprecht, reaching across the table to grab a wine pitcher.
'As Count of Ostland, any dramatic change in power must be my concern.' said Vapold, taking his feet off the table and straightening in his chair. 'Especially when it is one of my neighbours, virtually on my own doorstep no less. Instability in Ostermark is not good for Ostland. Who can say where Steinhardt's ambitions end? Perhaps this is just the first step in a plan to contend for the throne of the Emperor.'
'If Steinhardt can seize power in Bechafen, what message does it send to the nobles who owe fealty to Wolfenburg?' said Magnus, looking directly at Ursula. The astrologer seemed depressed. 'I regret, very deeply, that I have advised the count to reject your petition for an army to be raised for your cause. We must look to the defence of Wolfenburg, both from our own, but also against Steinhardt, especially now that Hensel is held here.'
'I concur,' said Bayard. 'The Osterknacht will be setting forth to Ostermark again, though the count has kindly offered us haven here. We will attempt to raise resistance against Steinhardt, and see Hensel back on the throne of Bechafen. We will be leaving within the next day or two, and if we can gather support, I have asked the count to provide some of his own troops to further back our claim for the true count.'
'This is madness!' snapped Ursula, standing up and sweeping her hand across the table, scattering bowls and goblets. 'If Kurt comes back with an army of northmen, what does it matter who sits in Bechafen or Wolfenburg? While we war against each other, he grows stronger. He will come, and we will be unready. We must strike now while his strength is still growing.'
'Ursula is right.' declared Johannes. 'While the death of your cousin is saddening, surely Kurt is a more pressing threat than some distant scheme of Steinhardt?'
'And where would you go?' said Bayard quietly. 'We went north before, and now we are undone. You cannot fight the northmen in their own lands. A defence against Steinhardt is a defence against any attack. Whilst Ostermark is divided, Ostland is vulnerable. If we can regain the throne for Hensel, the two states can stand together against this threat. The two are not exclusive.'
Ursula opened her mouth to speak again but Vapold raised his hand to silence her.
'My decision is made.' the count said. 'For now. Lord Bayard and his men will return soon, and perhaps his cause will be supported, or perhaps I will reconsider my position. I will not be rushed into making a rash choice.'
URSULA WATCHED MISERABLY as the knights of the Osterknacht filed out of Vapold's castle, mounted on their warhorses, their banners fluttering in the wind at the head of the thin column. The clatter of their hooves echoed eerily back up from the quiet, predawn streets. Heavy clouds were gathered overhead in the predawn light, and the atmosphere of the city was sombre. Ruprecht and Johannes stood on the rampart with her, a little distant from the count and his advisors a little further along the wall. It had been three days since Vapold's pronouncement, and he had refused to meet with Ursula since. In turn, she had said little to her two companions and had instead spent most of her time in the temple of Sigmar.
'Perhaps they will return soon.' said Johannes, wrapping his cloak more tightly around himself, standing close to Ursula.
'Perhaps they won't return at all,' said Ruprecht, his expression gloomy.
Ursula said nothing, as the first drops of rain began to patter off the stonework around her and moisten her hair. She watched the knights intently as they wound their way down the road, disappearing from sight behind a large building.
The astrologer, Magnus, walked along the wall towards them, a heavy cloak and hood protecting him from the rain. He stopped a little way from the group, looking distastefully up towards the clouds.
'What do your observations tell you?' asked Johannes, turning to Magnus. 'Are the omens good?'
Magnus did not reply for a moment, his glance hovering on Ursula for a while.
'My readings are unclear on the matter.' he said, looking at Johannes. 'There are many potential fates that await us, I cannot yet divine the path that we have chosen. The future is... uncertain.'
'Is that a good thing or a bad thing?' said Johannes. 'I mean, surely it isn't coincidence that has led us here at this time.'
'The will of the gods is involved and not easily discerned by mere mortals such as us.' said Magnus, pulling his hood further forward, hiding his face. 'I too believe that there is a purpose to us being brought together, in this place, at this time. It is too soon to say whether it is for good or ill.'
'Then we wait.' said Ursula, causing them all to turn and look at her. 'Wait for what?' said Ruprecht. 'Another sign.' Ursula replied, still gazing out over the city. 'It is not as if I have any choice in the matter.' Magnus coughed nervously, and Ursula turned her cold stare to him. 'Yes, I have heard of the count's edict.' she said. 'Edict?' said Johannes. 'What edict?' 'We are to remain as guests of the count, indefinitely.' said Ursula.
'For your own protection.' added Magnus, though his voice betrayed his lack of sincerity.
'We have the run of the city but may not leave Wolfenburg.' said Ursula, breaking her stare and looking at Johannes and Ruprecht. 'I suspect it is not just our safety that concerns the count.'
There was an odd gurgling noise and Ruprecht looked down at his stomach, embarrassed.
'I think we should avail ourselves of Count Vapold's hospitality and get some breakfast.' he said with a rueful look, glad to change the subject.
'The proverbial gilded cage.' said Johannes, stroking his chin in thought. 'I suppose there are worse things that could happen.'
Ursula turned away without speaking, walking briskly along the parapet. There were indeed much worse things that could happen, she thought. She offered a prayer to Sigmar that they did not come to pass.
THE DAYS WENT by and then a week, and another. Ursula became ever more fretful, and when not at the shrine of Sigmar, would often be found standing on the castle walls looking to the north, day and night. At night the hounds of the north invaded her dreams again and again, despoiling the land and rending her flesh with slavering mouths and vicious fangs. She would wake, sweating, and see the faint blue glow of the hilt-gem of Ulfshard in the darkness. She would walk out into the cold night air, constantly looking to the north, waiting.
Ruprecht and Johannes busied themselves about the city, learning its layout, its people. Johannes, by circumspect means, made contact with other devotees of Ranald, in case they needed to leave the city without attention as they had in Marienburg. Ruprecht learned what he could of Count Vapold, and what he heard left him with some hope. It became obvious that not only did he have his own interests at heart, but also that of his lands and people.
In a time when the nobles warred and politicked amongst themselves, and the poor folk paid with high taxes, disease and their lost ones falling in battle, Vapold seemed to have steered a path of relative stability for Wolfenburg during his rein. He was still unmarried, and the unspoken promise of a wedding to the royal family of Ostland kept many of the other noble houses loyal, both within the province and outside.
His army was well maintained, trained and disciplined, but unlike some of the other counts, they operated solely within the well-defined borders of Vapold's realm, foregoing the usual excursions and forays into neighbouring territory that seemed so popular with the contenders for the Emperors throne.
Ursulas apparent calmness worried Ruprecht. In appearance alone, she seemed resigned to the long wait, and yet he knew that inside she was in turmoil, frustrated by the lack of activity. On the few occasions that he had spoken to her she had seemed distant. It was obvious that she was very tired, her sleep broken every night, but there was more than just fatigue. Her mind was elsewhere constantly, and quite often she would simply fall silent in the middle of a conversation or meal, her eyes filled with a faraway look.
The astrologer concerned him also. The man seemed to spend an unusually frequent amount of time in Ursula's company, sometimes asking her questions about her past, particularly Ulfshard and her experiences in the north, other times simply hovering nearby. On occasion Ruprecht thought that he saw a longing in Magnus's eye; an almost lustful look. He began to pay more attention to the stargazer.
Johannes had noticed the attention the astrologer was bestowing on Ursula too, and had become somewhat even more irritating than normal with his attempts to get her to notice him. Ruprecht had caught the young man on more than one occasion, glaring at Magnus, toying with the hilt of his sword. Johannes would then notice Ruprecht looking at him and leave, half angry, half embarrassed.
For four weeks there was no news from the east, either good or bad. Ruprecht began to feel some of Ursula's frustration himself. Routine turned to boredom, and he found himself increasingly losing his temper over small matters: Johannes's drunken snoring, Ursula's apparent indifference, the count's guards following him through the streets, Magnus's unwarranted fixation with Ursula. Things came to a head one evening as he sat down with Johannes and Ursula for their meal.
'A pox on the count!' Ruprecht snarled suddenly, throwing his knife onto his plate with a clatter. 'He has no right to keep us here.'
'Better than being stuck in a cell.' said Johannes, tearing a chunk of bread from a loaf. He waved it in the air as he spoke. 'I mean, it's not damp, we have proper beds. Besides, what else are we supposed to do? Go where? Do what?'
'I don't know.' said Ruprecht, slumping in his chair. 'It just doesn't feel right, sitting here on our arses while Kurt is doing gods knows what. We should be preparing, planning to do something.'
'You've too much time on your hands.' said Johannes, biting at the bread. 'Perhaps you should find something to distract yourself, you know, a hobby or perhaps a job in the city. One of the courtiers, Lady Hauen, is teaching me to dance, you know.'
'Yes, what I really need to do is waste my time with some court strumpet.' said Ruprecht.
'It's just dancing lessons, that's all.' said Johannes with a glance at Ursula, who was toying with the meat on her plate but not eating. She was paying neither of them any attention. 'I mean, I know you might have heard things, but it's nothing more than dancing.'
'I'm sure she's fine with that arrangement, for now.' said Ruprecht. 'But mark my words, she'll want something in return sooner or later, and a young man like you, well we can guess can't we?'
Johannes stood up sharply, knocking his chair over.
'She's married!' he said, his face reddening. 'What do you take me for?'
'Be quiet, the pair of you.' said Ursula, silencing them both. There was no venom in her voice, no hint of emotion at all. 'I have to talk to Magnus, I had a new dream last night.'
'Well, you can tell us first.' said Ruprecht.
'We can help.' said Johannes, righting his chair and sitting down again, his anger disappearing.
'The great hound ate the sun.' she said. 'The world was drenched in a shower of blood from the dark skies and flames erupted from the hound's eyes. He was looking at me, he knew who I was, what I was doing.'
'Hmm, that's a tricky one.' said Ruprecht, picking up his knife and cutting a slice of cheese from the round sat on a silver plate in front of Ursula. 'Seems like pretty much normal omen stuff to me. Skies of blood, darkness, flames.'
'I'm with Ruprecht,' said Johannes. 'I don't see there's any reason to see Magnus. He's an astrologer, anyway, what does he know about dreams?'
'He divines the future, sees into the mists of what is yet to be,' said Ursula. 'He doesn't just draw star charts and horoscopes, I've seen him read the entrails of a goat and use the elder stones too.'
Ruprecht felt a stab of suspicion, but kept his face passive. In his years with Marius van Diesl, hunting down those who practised the occult and forbidden, many times had such seemingly acceptable practices been used to mask darker purposes. He would keep his suspicions to himself for now, there was no point stirring up trouble. However, it would do no harm to investigate a little more closely.
'Perhaps you should consult Magnus.' Ruprecht said. 'I'll come with you.'
'So will I.' Johannes added hurriedly.
They finished their meal in silence, Ruprecht trying not to brood, Ursula reverting to her customary silence, and Johannes catching the mood of the other two, keeping quiet for a change. When they were done, Ursula led the way through the castle, along galleries of portraits of the past counts of Ostland, along flagged corridors and up stone steps into the highest reaches of the keep. Neither Ruprecht nor Johannes had been to this part of the castle before. She took them to a small wooden door at the top of a flight of rickety steps, and knocked loudly. There was sounds of movement inside, papers being shuffled, a chair scraping.
'Enter.' Magnus's voice came through the door and Ursula opened the door and stepped through, the other two close behind.
Magnus stood by the window, his back turned to them, arms crossed. He was dressed in a plain, scholarly robe of grey, his more ostentatious robes of office carelessly flung over the back of a low couch that was set along one wall of the room. Ruprecht looked at the tall bookshelves, teetering with tomes and scrolls, and took in the assorted paraphernalia scattered across the various desks and tables of the astrologer's workplace. A small cot was hidden in the corner with a side table next to it on which stood a large candle, the only light in the room. It was chill, with no fireplace to provide warmth and a cold draught spilling through the cracked panes of the window.
'How may I be of assistance?' said Magnus turning around, his smile slightly obsequious.
'The dream has changed.' said Ursula. Magnus signalled for them to seat themselves on the various chairs around the room and leaned back against the windowsill.
'Has it, indeed?' the astrologer said, his eyes full of inquiry. He crossed the room to one of the tables and sat down behind it, picking up a quill and piece of parchment. He poured a little water from a small jar onto an inkplate and dipped the quill into it. He sat there, poised. 'Describe it to me.'