Karlich saw a slim chance and went for the assassin himself, but the pistol was in Greiss’s hand as if it had always been there. A shot boomed across the knoll and Karlich spun with the impact of it in his shoulder. He staggered and fell. The bone was shattered and he cried out, clutching at it through his oozing blood.
Greiss withdrew the main gauche. Rechts was already dead when he slumped to the ground. Torveld was stirring too. Greiss lunged and pierced the Middenlander’s eye. He died instantly.
Then Greiss turned to Karlich.
‘You and me left,’ he said with the hint of a smile. ‘I offered you quick, you chose slow…’
‘How about a third choice?’
The voice behind him made Greiss flinch.
Brand stepped from the shadows creeping back down the knoll in the face of the rising sun. ‘Me.’ He glanced at Rechts and his jaw clenched.
Too late to save one…
‘Was hoping I’d kill you last,’ Greiss replied. Karlich was in no shape to face a trained assassin but he kept half an eye on the sergeant anyway. ‘Thought I’d lost you in the market,’ he muttered.
‘You’re not the only one who can follow a lamb.’ Brand drew his dirk.
There was the slightest of nods and then Greiss attacked.
Steel flashed in a grey blur, thrusting, lunging slashing for any of several death-wounds. Brand parried or dodged them all.
‘Knew you were too good for a common soldier,’ he snarled, raking his blade against the edge of Greiss’s. Metal shards and sparks cascaded like flickering rain.
Greiss growled at him though his gritted teeth. ‘So are you.’
They broke off, circling before leaping in again, their dagger strokes ringing like a blacksmith’s anvil.
‘Campaigning’s made you rusty,’ said Greiss, a second blade flashing into his hand from a concealed spring-mounted bracer. He plunged it into Brand’s shoulder, drawing a cry of pain from the Reiklander. With the other hand Greiss pressed for Brand’s throat. He dropped his dirk and held on to the assassin’s wrist. ‘One by one, you’re all dead men. I’ll gut y– urrghh!’
Greiss spat a gob of blood that ruined his tunic with a long, viscous streak. He looked down at the gory length of steel rammed up into his back that punched out through his chest. Karlich whispered in his ear behind him before Greiss died.
‘Grimblades fight as one.’
Brand pushed the main gauche away from his throat and pulled the dagger out of his shoulder with a wince. Both Reiklanders backed away. Karlich left the sword embedded and watched Greiss buckle and fall. He knew he had lost a fair amount of blood but he’d be damned if he was going to lie down yet. His breath rasped a little as he spoke.
‘Ledner really didn’t want us to talk, did he?’
Brand had already strapped up his shoulder with a piece of cloth and knelt down by Greiss’s body.
‘Small wonder given he knew about the prince’s killer and used our liege-lord as bait to draw the assassin out,’ the sergeant added. ‘Civil war be damned, Vogen is hearing of this.’
‘It is worse than that,’ said Brand, turning Greiss’s head. There was a tattoo on the dead man’s neck which exactly matched the one they had found on the Tilean assassin. ‘No Marienburg gold this time.’
‘That bastard…’ uttered Karlich.
The killers were both Ledner’s. With that truth came a chilling revelation. Not only did he know of Prince Wilhelm’s assassination, he had orchestrated it. Ledner was the traitor.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Patriotism
Outside the walls of Wurtbad, capital of Stirland,
398 miles from Altdorf
By now, all of Wurtbad and the mustering army beyond its walls knew of the foiled attempt on Prince Wilhelm’s life. Most of the common soldiery were shocked and angered, others simply assumed it was the price of being Reikland royalty. Officers expressed outrage. Privately, they harboured suspicions that the prince’s cousin, Emperor Dieter himself, was somehow responsible. This last rumour was perpetuated by cohorts of Adolphus Ledner. Like any good spymaster, he had many lackeys in his employ. But Ledner, usually ubiquitous in the presence of his lord, was not present when Wilhelm gave his reaction to the news.
‘It changes nothing,’ he said, fastening his scabbarded sword and tightening the straps on his breastplate. He was in one of Krieglitz’s armouries, with the Lord Protector of Stirland looking on.
‘Defy the will of the Emperor and expect consequences, is that the way of it?’ he said. ‘I heard the assassin’s bribe was Marienburg gold. What do you think that means?’
Wilhelm glared at him as he was adjusting his leg greaves. ‘You should not speak ill of your liege-lord and Emperor. As for the burgomeisters,’ he added, ‘who knows what those greedy merchants are up to. I had hoped Ledner would have discovered something by now.’
‘Nuln’s Golden Palace wasn’t gilded by taxes alone, I’d say.’
Wilhelm paused in his battle preparation. ‘Be careful who you say that to, Neder.’ It wasn’t a threat, more an expression of concern.
Krieglitz smiled thinly. He changed tack. ‘Word will have reached most of the other provinces by next morning,’ he said. ‘You’ll be a legend, Wilhelm – the noble Prince of Reikland who rode out to defend his Empire and crushed the vipers in his nest trying to stop him.’
‘Am I so glorious? What have I achieved? Averland is ruined, much of Stirland is also devastated,’ – Krieglitz’s face darkened at this remark – ‘and now I’ve failed to dismantle the greenskin horde and left the Reikmark open to invasion. Assassin or no, it’s a bitter draught to swallow. Legendary is not how I would describe it.’
‘Even still, you’ve made friends of the other electors and nobles. Backbone and courage, that’s what the Empire needs most.’
‘Just not friendly enough, eh, Neder?’ The bitterness in Wilhelm’s voice was obvious.
Captain Vogen appeared at the armoury door before Krieglitz could reply.
‘Beg your pardon, lords,’ he said, ‘we are all but ready to march.’
Wilhelm nodded to the officer. ‘Get them into order, captain. The orcs move west, so will we, and get ahead of them if we can.’
‘Are we still bound for Nuln?’ Vogen asked.
Wilhelm sheathed a dagger at his hip, the last of his war trappings. ‘The beast will want to sack the capital and with it all but empty, there’s nothing to stop the greenskins doing it.’
Vogen saluted and left to perform his duties. Just as he was going, Wilhelm stopped him.
‘Have you seen Captain Ledner?’
‘Not recently, my liege. But I could easily have missed him during the muster.’
Wilhelm gestured that he could leave.
‘A concern?’ asked Krieglitz when Vogen was gone.
‘No,’ Wilhelm decided. ‘He’ll turn up when he’s needed, probably when I least expect it. Adolphus Ledner always does.’
Karlich was hurrying through the Wurtbad streets, taking side alleys and backways to avoid the commotion outside the Temple of Sigmar near the town square, when he heard a sharp click from the shadows behind him. He stopped sharply and found a pistol trained on his torso as he turned.
‘Couldn’t let you run off to Vogen or the prince before we’d had a chance to talk,’ said Ledner. His sibilant voice creaked like an old coffin.
‘Slay me here and you’ll bring the Watch running, quartermasters too and who knows who else,’ countered Karlich, hiding his nerves.
‘There are a hundred ways I could explain the gunshot and your corpse,’ Ledner told him, stepping closer so the errant shafts of sunlight bathing the backstreet hit his face. The contrast of light and shade only made it more forbidding.
‘For a man who claims to be a patriot, plotting to kill your own liege-lord seems like t
he deeds of a traitor,’ said Karlich.
‘Where are the rest of your men?’ asked Ledner. ‘The ones that still live,’ he added without malice.
Karlich imagined wrapping his hands around the spymaster’s throat and squeezing until all vitality had left him. ‘Returned to the regiment, but you already knew that.’
Ledner allowed himself a small grunt of amusement. ‘Yes, I did. Though, they are actually with my sergeants-at-arms, awaiting interrogation. Witnesses to murder,’ – Ledner counted on his fingers – ‘four times over? Yes, the Middenlander makes four. Questions must be asked.’
‘As we’re about to march to Nuln? How did you explain that to the prince?’
‘Wilhelm trusts my counsel, sergeant. You should know that.’
‘Then he trusts a serpent!’ Karlich spat, making fists. ‘You’re a snake in more than just your voice, captain.’
‘Barbs are only painful if they’re real,’ Ledner told him. There were only a few feet between them. ‘You’re much too clever for a mere soldier–’ A hacking cough stopped the spymaster. Karlich went to grab for him before the pistol came back up and Ledner regained his composure. ‘Don’t make me revise my opinion of you!’ he snapped, still spluttering.
‘Choking on your own lies?’ Karlich framed a bitter smile.
‘Amusing. You are quite a resourceful man. I never expected you or your footsloggers to best my Tilean, let alone kill Greiss,’ said Ledner, more hoarsely than usual. ‘He was from the Border Princes, not Averland, by the way.’
‘Can’t say I care. Dead is dead. Is this where you ask me to join your brood?’
‘No,’ Ledner said flatly. ‘You have the wit for it, but not the moral ambiguity or ruthless pragmatism I require in my agents.’ He paused to size Karlich up, gauging whether to kill him or let him live. ‘I organised the assassination, the one I tasked you to foil,’ he admitted at last. ‘You already know this. Wilhelm was either supposed to die or be badly injured in the attempt. Either way, sympathy for our cause and that of the Empire would soar. Martyrs are potent rallying symbols.’
Karlich’s anger was almost palpable. ‘You said we could speak nothing of it, for fear of civil war.’
‘Don’t be naïve. You’re better than that. Your success on the road back to Mannsgard was as unexpected as your discovery of my messenger. The Marienburg coin you found–’
Karlich interrupted, ‘Was left for others to find in order to discredit the Emperor. Even my thick, soldier’s ears have discerned some of dealings with the burgomeisters. Every sane son of Sigmar in the land knows of it.’
‘By finding that wretch in the barn, you became a thorn. When my counter plan also failed, I decided to bring about the same result by killing you and letting slip that Wilhelm was attacked in the same breath. The prince’s reputation will soon be enhanced. I confess, I had not thought of it originally but this is a better outcome. This way Wilhelm lives.’
‘And us, my men and I, what is our fate?’
‘I am a patriot of the Empire, but the Reikland above all else. Emperor Dieter’s efficacy as ruler of our lands is questionable at best. I would also scrutinise his loyalty, for his Marienburg allies are no friends of the Empire.’ Ledner dabbed a trickle of blood that had seeped from the corner of his lip. He’d coughed it up and Karlich wondered what else the man was hiding beneath his crimson scarf. ‘Understand me, Karlich. Know that when I say I would do anything to protect the Empire and the Reik, I mean anything. Wilhelm is a brave leader but he could not challenge or overthrow the Emperor. Only as a martyr and the catalyst for revolution could he do that… until now.’
‘How do you sleep with such plans twisting inside your head?’
Ledner smiled, as if the man before him had seen a measure of his soul.
‘I don’t want to kill you, Karlich,’ he said.
‘What’s a little more blood? We’ll all be drowning in it soon enough.’
‘I hadn’t thought of you as a fatalist. You’re not like that shackled wolf in your regiment – the killer of killers.’ Ledner raised his eyebrows, as if considering. ‘Now, he would suit my purposes greatly, if I believed he could be controlled. No, you’re a different animal altogether I think, much more savage.’ He showed his teeth. ‘They don’t see it, your precious Grimblades but I do, Lothar. I know it all too well, Lothar Henniker of Ohslecht. That was the name of your village, wasn’t it? The place where you killed a Templar of Sigmar?’
Karlich’s blood ran cold. He thought that part of his old life had ended with the headless witch hunter on the killing fields outside Averheim.
Ledner went on. ‘I’m sure he and that brutal bastard Vanhans deserved it. Unfortunately for you, though, Templars of Sigmar are a persistent, vengeful breed. They’d likely torture you first if they found you. If they found you. Do we have an understanding?’
Karlich was breathing hard through his nose, something between rage and fear. Compromise or death, why did it always come to those two choices with men like Ledner? After a few moments, he spoke.
‘Release my men. Never approach or threaten me again.’
Ledner lowered his pistol. ‘I knew you were wise, much too good to be a sergeant. I don’t need to tell you what would happen if you broke our agreement. If any of you did…’ He backed away until the shadows of the alley swallowed him.
Karlich waited until he was sure Ledner was gone then staggered up against the wall, hands bracing him as he retched. By the time he reached the army outside Wurtbad, what was left of his regiment would be waiting for him released from the sergeants-at-arms’ custody. They’d survived Ledner’s machinations, at least for a time. Now they just had to survive the green horde.
One way or another, it would end at Reikland.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A return to the ranks
Stirland border, north-east of Averland,
394 miles from Altdorf
Ledner rejoined the army several miles on the road out of Wurtbad. A long trail of soldiers, ranked in order of march and followed by baggage trains, streamed from the encampment site at the edge of town. A virulent scar was left in their wake, the remains of latrines, cookfires and earth churned by many booted feet. It would be weeks, assuming a cessation to the greenskin invasion, before the land could be restored.
Though the orcs and goblins were moving, bands of raiders still lingered in the province. Hunkering down in the hills and scratches of forest, it might be years before the recalcitrant greenskins were rooted out and expunged.
Krieglitz’s huntsmen took the army south-east, down the Old Dwarf Road at first. They could make good time and try to forge ahead of Grom’s horde pushing westward towards Reikland. Swift riders had already been sent to the province to warn the garrisons still manning Blood Keep, Helmgart and the barracks at Grünburg. Wilhelm doubted his cousin would admit, let alone heed his urgent missives. The Emperor’s concerns were elsewhere, wrapped up in Marienburg gold and the charms of some courtly maidens, no doubt. Such languor while the Empire suffered made the prince sick with anger.
Barring its beleaguered capital, Averland was overrun so the southern border of Stirland was to be avoided. Nor did they wish to be slowed by the larger tributaries of the River Aver that bled into the province. In all likelihood, the crossings would be watched or even impassable. It was only a short way south-east before the army left the Old Dwarf Road and went west with the hills to the south instead. They would hug the northern border, close to Talabecland, make first for Kemperbad and any troops the prince still had there and then on to Nuln, hopefully ahead of the horde. The journey would take several days, possibly longer.
‘Am I on a fool’s errand, Ledner?’ asked the prince as the spymaster rode up alongside him.
‘Even if you were, I would keep such truths to yourself, lord. Our army is ragged enough.’
They were mainly
an infantry force now with a predominance of citizen soldiers. Meinstadt’s war machines were few and largely inconsequential. The knights were almost vanquished to a man. Those that remained stayed by the prince’s side always, especially since the news of the assassination attempt had broken. From behind their visored helms they regarded every man who came into their liege-lord’s presence as sternly as an enemy to be slain on the battlefield.
Some more Mootlanders had joined them, so too did the dwarf exiles march to Nuln, but half-breeds would hardly swing the balance of the war for Wilhelm or the Empire.
Krieglitz relented to an extent, impassioned by Wilhelm’s stalwartness in the face of what he believed was Dieter’s treachery. He made a cohort of his household guard available to the prince. The Hornhelms wore battered plate armour and their steeds could hardly be considered magnificent, but the knights-at-arms would accompany Wilhelm all the way to Nuln and fight for him as if he were their own lord. The huntsmen too, their guides along the northern border, would stay and fight. They were all Krieglitz’s representatives while he and his army ventured forth to tackle the larger greenskin bands shed by Grom’s immense horde still in his province. To the goblin king, they were just dregs. His army was formidable without them. To Krieglitz they were a pest threatening his subjects.
‘Where have you been, Ledner?’ Wilhelm asked after he’d allowed a brief silence to fall between them.
‘With the quartermasters, dragging the walking wounded into the line of march. We’ll need every spear and blade we have. Arrangements also had to be made for the dead and dying. Several of Morr’s own raven-keepers had remained behind at Wurtbad.’
Wilhelm rode ahead but instructed his lead infantry officer to maintain the same pace. He also urged Ledner to follow. The Griffonkorps remnants came too, Wilhelm’s armoured shadow. They would fight and die only. Ears and eyes closed to the prince’s private dealings, the knights were as disciplined as statues in this conviction.
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