by Warhammer
'You think there might be danger?' Lina Half-wolf said, her gaze flicking between Kurt and the abandoned settlement. 'It's as dead as a tomb down there. What threat can that be?'
'We need to eat and drink.' Kurt said. 'And we have not travelled for these many weeks to throw our destiny away with impatience. Return to the ships and prepare camp, send out some hunting parties to see what this gods-forsaken shore has to offer.'
As the others made their way back down the hill, Kurt and Jakob stayed for a moment. The Chosen looked back over the city, at the long shadows that now stretched from its silent buildings. For a moment, it felt as if the town looked back and he shuddered and turned away. Tomorrow, it would reveal its secrets to them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Raiders
Reikland, Summer 1711
Ahead and to the right of the caravan, the peaks of the Grey Mountains could be seen through breaks in the heavy cloud. From Marienburg they had set out along the south bank of the Reik, the horses and mules picking their way along the marsh-edged road of the Wasteland for several miles until the fens had given way to the vast, dark forests that swathed most of the lands of the Empire. Between the boles of trees hundreds of years old, the road wound its way south and east, crossing tributaries of the Reik at wide fords and low wooden bridges.
The expedition soon settled into a daily routine, and Ursula became quickly accustomed to her duties as maid to Lady Halste. She would rouse herself just after dawn, when the five cooks of the caravan had lit the breakfast fires and were breaking out the stores. The blacksmiths would stoke their portable furnaces, and the farriers would inspect the horses, the leatherworkers would repair broken saddles and harnesses, and the soldiers would clean their weapons.
As the soldiers sat down to their breakfasts, Ursula would prepare the lady's morning meal and take it to her in the housewagon where she spent most of her time. The other maids would help the lady dress while Ursula laid out her plate and a glass of water. They would then leave her until summoned. Lady Halste was not a demanding woman most of the time, and much of Ursula's work was to keep the others from pestering her. Lady Halste had insisted that she keep her privacy as much as possible, and Ursula was soon in the position of relaying questions and answers between the noblewoman and the others who were responsible for making the caravan run smoothly.
Each day, in the afternoon, Lady Halste would invite two or three of the other caravan members to dine with her aboard her housewagon. Ursula acted as servant at these occasions, and the lady's guests ranged from the freelancers, to the mercenaries, to the lowliest cooper or kitchen assistant.
They would travel until an hour before nightfall, usually covering twenty miles each day, and then stop to make camp. After a week, the practiced efficiency of everyone made this chore quick and straightforward, and soon the field or clearing they had chosen for the campsite would be dotted with the three dozen large tents they carried with them, the horses corralled with rope fences, the wagons circled around the perimeter. The sentries would begin their night watches and the campfires would be lit.
In the evenings, Ursula fulfilled her role as the lady's companion, often with Gerhardt, as they told her what they knew of the Empire's history, of the different gods, and the people who lived in the Empire. Lady Halste listened intently to the stories, and yet never offered any tales from her own homeland. She spoke little about herself and her childhood, and asked little in the way of personal questions of her guests. This suited Ursula perfectly, as she had no desire to revisit her own years of unhappy wandering, and certainly did not want to talk about the months she had been hunted by Marius van Diesl or the heartbreaking events that had swept her up until the fateful clash between the witch hunter and Kurt in Tungask.
Ursula slept in her bedroll beneath the housewagon, so that she would be on hand if the lady needed her. Sometimes she would hear the noblewoman pacing back and forth long into the night, other times she would hear the lady shouting in her sleep, plagued by nightmares. The first time this happened, she had woken and dashed inside. She had found the lady awake, and as soon as Ursula had entered, the noblewoman had screamed at her to leave, throwing a slipper at the girl to hurry her on her way. The next day the lady had apologised, but warned Ursula not to disturb her unless invited. She sometimes suffered waking dreams, and it was not always safe to be around her. Ursula had happily agreed.
Ruprecht earned his keep as a soldier, standing watch and sentry when asked, keeping an eye on the other travellers whose path crossed their own on occasion. There were times when the soldiers mustered together, the scouts having returned with news of beastman or goblin tracks nearby, but other than these occasional alarms, their journey was relatively peaceful.
A man named Grunner Schwartzhelm, most senior of the freelances, had been given command of the expedition, and Lady Halste deferred to his experience and knowledge on most matters. He had led them away from the main road after ten days, wary of the orcs and goblins of Gorbad Ironclaw that were ravaging the land somewhere ahead of them. Lady Halste also had no desire to travel too close to the Reikland capital itself, Altdorf. Unwelcome questions might be asked concerning their business.
Ursula had at first been dismayed by the lady's insistence that they hide their true purpose from the merchants, pilgrims and other travellers they occasionally met. Although it was only a half-truth they had been asked to tell - they were visiting Karak Norn to pay homage to the dwarfs - Ursula had felt the deception unnecessary. Lady Halste had been insistent that if word of their quest became known, they would be in great danger from the other counts, who would seek to waylay them, or perhaps mount their own claim for Ulfshard. Lady Halste assured Ursula that she understood her opinion, and in fact had come to rely on it on several matters, but in this case she would not be persuaded otherwise.
Fourteen days after setting out, Ursula realised why the lady was so reluctant to discuss their dealings with others. They had met with a patrol of soldiers, dressed in the red and blue uniforms of Altdorf. Their clothes were slightly ragged, their weapons in poor repair. Their captain, a broad-shouldered man every inch as tall as Ruprecht, had arrayed his fifty men across the road, spears at the ready, handguns primed. A long discourse had taken place between him and Schwartzhelm, later joined by Lady Halste. Ursula had been tempted to go forward and speak herself, but as soon as she had taken a few steps towards the front of the wagon line, Wildfather Taalstock had stepped in front and barred her way.
'There are some matters which concern those of great faith,' he had said, gently grasping her arm and leading her to the board of his own cart, 'and some matters which do not.'
Ursula had argued with him for a while, but in the end the tender persistence of Gerhardt had convinced her not to get involved. To distract her from her worrying, he had taught her the true names of the various plants that grew on the roadside, and of the different birds that occasionally fluttered overhead, and the small creatures that scurried cautiously between the cart's wheels.
For most of that afternoon, the negotiations had continued, the caravan's mercenaries easing their weapons in their scabbards, the flagellants wailing and moaning to the skies, the Reiklanders poised to unleash a devastating volley of lead. In the end the patrol captain ordered the Reiklanders aside. Wheels rumbling along the deep ruts of the roads, the wagons had moved off again under the glares of the soldiers and with an insincere wave from their commander. When Ursula later asked what had happened, Lady Halste had said that she had agreed to pay the toll for using the road. Ursula did not realise at first what the lady had meant, but that night had spoken with Ruprecht, voicing her suspicions that the soldiers had been bribed. Ruprecht had laughed and told her that she was right, and that had been the captain's intent from the start. Dismayed by the corruption that now seemed to her to be prevalent across the whole Empire, Ursula had slept fitfully that night.
As the expedition's route turned more southerly to skirt the Skaag Hills, t
he rain that had soaked them constantly since leaving Marienburg gave way to overcast skies. As summer approached, the air grew warmer, and the sound of storms thundering over the Grey Mountains could be heard when the wind was from the west.
Reaching the River Bogen, they followed the tributary of the Reik to the town of Bögenhafen. The old market town sat on a junction of roads from Nuln, Helmgart and Altdorf, and its ferry was the only way to cross the Bogen for many leagues in each direction. Lady Halste agreed to a day's break in their journeying so that the tired expedition could rest outside Bögenhafen before making the crossing.
Here they had bought new supplies, and stayed for a few days to refresh themselves. Ursula had sought out a shrine to Sigmar and spent the first day praying in thanks to the god for guiding her to this noble endeavour, while Ruprecht busied himself around the town, talking to the townsfolk and other travellers to gather what intelligence he could of the road ahead. In particular, he learned much from the boatsmen and traders as he wandered the wharfs of the Ostendamm. Many of the others did the same, grateful for any news from Marienburg, or Altdorf, or even further afield.
What they heard did not bode well. Before his horde had fallen on Solland, Gorbad had sacked Nuln, sending a flood of refugees to Altdorf. Then having taken the Solland Runefang, the Ironclaw had moved northwards along the Upper Reik, smashing an army led by the Count of Wissenland, leaving his capital of Wissenburg unprotected against the attacks of orcs drawn down from the Grey Mountains by the lure of war and plunder. The people who had survived had then endured a desperate winter with little food or shelter, and famine and disease killed more than the brutal orcs had done. With spring now arrived, it was hoped that the rebuilding of Wissenburg might begin, but brigands had gathered in large numbers to prey on the helpless people of Wissenland.
The orc warlord and his army had spent the winter camped on the Reik, having taken the town of Kemperbad. Now, it was claimed, his army encircled Altdorf itself. The caravan was safe only by a matter of days; if they had set out a week earlier, they might have been caught up in the invasion. Even now, marauding bands of greenskins that had splintered from the main army were falling upon settlements all through the Reikland forests. Although insufficient in number to threaten walled towns such as Bögenhafen, Ubersreik and Grünburg, these raiding mobs had burned down many farms and looted several trade convoys.
Ursula overheard many heated discussions between Lady Halste and Schwartzhelm concerning the future of the expedition. The knight was in two minds whether to advance, and insisted that if they were to continue they needed to hire more soldiers. Lady Halste was adamant that the additional expense was beyond her, and that the safety and secrecy of her mission would be threatened if she were to employ men of the Reikland. Schwartzhelm resigned his position and left the convoy, and his departure cast a pall over the expedition.
History recounts that Schwartzhelm went north and fought later that year at the siege of Altdorf, where the self-proclaimed Emperor Sigismund was slain by Wyverns. He saved the dead count's Runefang from Gorbad's clutches, and became personal champion to Sigismund's son. Since that act, the Schwartzhelms have ever remained as bodyguards to the Princes of Altdorf.
For the convoy, the road ahead was also uncertain. Lady Halste, having started out as a reasonable and educated leader, had become increasingly prone to tantrums and fits of depression. Ursula, who acted as maid along with two other girls, Catherine and Dameld, had heard the lady muttering angrily to herself and had sometimes returned to the luxurious housewagon in which Lady Halste travelled to find a chair shattered, or broken ornaments strewn upon the floor.
After her apparent betrayal by Schwartzhelm, Lady Halste refused to let anyone else lead the convoy, even though there were several amongst the dogs of war she had hired who were suitable for the task. For the next twenty days, she insisted that there be no contact with anyone else, and travelling pedlars, hermits, farmers and the other folk they met were all greeted with silence and sullen stares from the convoy's people.
They travelled for days without seeing any sign of other human life, following the winding roads through the dark forests, occasionally passing over a stream or skirting a still lake. The gloom of the deep woods pervaded everything, and the mood of the expedition was sombre. All except Gerhardt Taalstock.
The Wildfather was in a constant state of contentment. He spent much time in conversation with Ursula, telling her about the creatures of the sky, the earth and beneath the ground. The weasel, Louda, was always with him, and when Gerhardt visited Ursula, his small friend would nestle in her lap or curl up on her shoulder and fall asleep.
The Wildfather explained that he had found Louda nearly twenty years earlier, lying beside a road, badly injured by a cartwheel. The priest had taken the near-dead weasel to the shrine he tended and laid him upon the sacred stones. He did not know why he had done it - the same force that had guided him to follow the birds to Lady Halste had moved within him - but the next day, Louda was as fit and healthy as a weasel in the prime of life. When Gerhardt had gone to check on his ward, Louda had sprung up from where he had been lying in the sacred cairn and headed off into the forest. The priest had followed. For several miles, Louda had led him along winding game trails and round the twisting boles of the forest, taking him out of the woods into the farmlands.
There, the Wildfather had found a cart tipped off the road, the bales of hay it had been carrying strewn over the verge. The driver was dead, crushed underneath the wreck. The muddy track was criss-crossed with hoof-prints, of deer and wild boar, and it was then that Gerhardt realised Louda was more than just an animal, he was one of the many mortal messengers of Taal. The god of wild beasts had exacted his retribution for the injury done to his servant.
Gerhardt had not consciously kept Louda with him, but the weasel had followed him back to his home and had remained his companion since. Louda's longevity for one of his kind, Gerhardt told Ursula, was more evidence that the weasel was favoured amongst creatures. Ursula had laughed when Gerhardt told her that they spoke to each other about the places of the world they had seen, and the Wildfather had grown uncharacteristically angry. He warned her against mocking the gods, any gods, and left in a fury. Louda had stayed behind for a few moments, watching her with his beady black eyes, before skipping off the driving board of the wagon and following the priest.
Oft-times, the priest's small mule-drawn cart would be pulled over from the convoy and the priest could be seen sitting in contemplation, eyes closed, as he listened to the sounds of the forest. The soldiers and other travellers whispered to each other about this odd behaviour, claiming that they saw his lips moving as if in communion with some power, though none could fathom the language he was speaking.
On the twenty-third day after setting out from Marienburg they came into sight of Wissenburg. The large town had been devastated, the fields for miles around razed and trampled by the orc and goblin hordes. For the last few days they had been travelling across the open fields that skirt the foothill of the Grey Mountains, leaving the dense forests behind. To the west the mountains reared up, dark and implacable, their peaks shrouded in low cloud. Everywhere they travelled they found signs of Gorbad's ferocious advance, from the ruined farmsteads along the road to the piles of bodies, human and greenskin, that marked the places of smaller battles. They had been stripped of all clothing and equipment, either by the victorious goblins, or the ghoulish human corpse-robbers who eked a living following the armies of the Empire and selling on whatever they could salvage.
Around Wissenburg itself, the dispossessed people of Wissenland gathered like vermin, clustering around the shattered ruins of the town in a shanty of tents and huts built from scavenged debris. The town itself was battered but standing, the walls breached in many places, the larger buildings inside - the temples, courthouses and treasuries - were burnt-out shells. The vast refugee encampment was inhabited by thousands of people, driven from their villages and farms by
the orc advance. Hoping for succour they had fled to their capital, only to have their desperate hopes dashed when the Ironclaw had routed the army of the count many miles to the north. Much of the populace had fled into the Grey Mountains, many of them later dying in mudslides brought by the spring rains, or killed by marauding wolf-riding goblins, beastmen and other foul creatures - raiders usually kept in check by the patrols of the count's army that had ventured forth from the forests, ranging ever further to despoil and loot.
Starving and hopeless, the people of Wissenland, many of whom had been driven from Solland the year before, had gathered together to try to eke some kind of existence from their desperate plight. They gathered around the caravan, begging for food. The soldiers had to form a line around the wagons, as bands of desperate men closed in, carrying cudgels and pikes, sensing in opportunity to loot what they could. The handguns and spears of Lady Halste's bodyguard were too formidable though, and they pressed on through the gathering crowd amidst shouted pleas and curses.
Seeing the starved children running half-naked through the mud, grown men weeping on their knees, hearing the wailing of women who had lost loved ones to fighting or famine, drove Ursula to despair.
'There must be something we can do to help them,' she said to Lady Halste. 'We can't just leave them like this!'
The lady turned to her, her face grim.
'There is nothing we can do,' she said, her expression sad. 'The only hope for these people is for the Empire to be united again, so that they might be protected from more woes. If we return Ulfshard to our count, they might have hope again.'
The lady's words struck a chord with Ursula and she did not protest when she ordered the expedition to move on. As the convoy made its slow progress south and westward, skirting the borders of the shanty town, Ursula strayed from their route and wandered tearfully amongst the desolation. The flagellants who had joined them at Marienburg were running through the winding makeshift streets, screeching their apocalyptic creed, whipping themselves and exhorting the people to join them. More than a few did, driven to insanity by their loss and grief. Many were enraptured by the doom-laden oratory of the flagellants' leader, who told them to cast off their worldly possessions, and scourge themselves of the evil within their souls that had brought the wrath of the gods down upon them.