《The Cursebreaker》
Chapter 1
The two travelers dressed in dark hooded cloaks stood next to their horses at the gates of Brandt castle, the seat of what little power lay in the county of Nordfell. Around them was the town of Neustadt1, the only town in the county. In some ways, the town was a microcosm of the county that it belonged to: isolated, cold, and dirt poor. In Nordfell winters were long and brutal, while harvests were lackluster at best. It was not a place where anyone would choose to live, which made sense as most of its inhabitants were the descendants of people who were forcibly relocated there. The only purpose the county truly served was to provide its rulers, the Ostermanians2, with a bulwark against a group of invaders that had gone into decline centuries ago and a waste bin to dump their undesirables. The first wave of settlers had been the riff-raff of the empire¡¯s many nations: petty criminals, prositutes, the financially desitute, and anyone stupid enough to volunteer for resettlement. These unfortunate souls would be joined over the decades by those deemed by the emperor to be participants in the occasional separatist revolt, but migration to Nordfell was still not something that happened often.
While the various peoples who had been forced to call Nordfell home tended to self-segregate into different villages, usually along ethnic and linguistic lines, Neustadt was a place where all of these peoples lived together. As the travelers stood at the gate to the castle they could hear a strange cacophony of dozens of voices speaking the many languages of the empire. There were people conducting business, gossiping about their neighbors, and telling jokes. It was a vibrant mess that only polyglots, such as the two travelers could appreciate.
¡°He seems to be taking his time...¡± One of the travelers said as he removed his hood, revealing the face of a young man in his late teens with blonde hair and a boyishly handsome face. A large sword hung in a scabbard from the man¡¯s back. His companion, who was shorter than him and remained hooded, didn¡¯t respond. As they stood there, a soldier wearing a set of cheap and beat-up armor watched them. The man¡¯s face was tired and beaten-down and a long horizontal scar ran below his eyes. He kept his hands on his hips, from which hung a chipped and dented sword, a spatha3. The sword was much older than the man who wielded it and its design had gone out of favor centuries ago, but it still held an edge better than a sharpened stick.
Suddenly the castle gates opened and three people emerged: three men and a boy. The travelers recognized one of the men as a guard that he had spoken to earlier.
¡°These are the men that wanted to speak to the count?¡± A tall bald man with a graying brown beard asked the guard that accompanied him. The man wore a short blue cloak with the image of a white edelweiss flower embroidered on the back of it.
¡°Yes, sir,¡± The guard answered. The bald man then turned to the travelers.
¡°Hello. Who are you and what brings you to Neustadt?¡± He asked. The blonde-haired man answered.
¡°I am Sir Ekkehardt4 Lowe. My partner and I are investigators from the Imperial Gendarmerie5,¡± Lowe then raised the back of his left hand to the bald man to show him his signet ring. The ring was made of silver and its bezel displayed an engraving of a double-headed eagle. The bald man took a closer look at the ring. He stared at it for a short period before slowly nodding with approval and backing away. During this entire time a slender and dark-haired man beside him stared at Ekkehardt and his companion; watching them like a hawk and never allowing his right hand to move more than a finger¡¯s length away from the hilt of his sword. After examining Ekkehardt¡¯s ring the bald man turned to Ekkehardt¡¯s companion, an individual who was shorter and more slender than Ekkehardt. Unlike Ekkehardt, this person had not lifted their hood and their face remained obscured.
¡°And you are?¡± He asked. Before anyone else could do anything Ekkehardt spoke up.
¡°That is my partner, Sir Alf Neuman,¡± Ekkehardt answered, ¡°He isn¡¯t much of a talker,¡±
¡°I see,¡± The bald man responded, ¡°I am Sir Adrian Ebner and this is my associate, Mr. Erik Schwartzbaum6.¡± He said pointing to himself and the dark-haired man. Ekkehardt looked Schwartzbaum in the eye and nodded his head while saying ¡®hello¡¯ very casually. Schwartzbaum did not react.
¡°Well, now that that is out of the way, can you tell us what you are doing here? I hope there isn¡¯t an issue with the taxes,¡± Adrian inquired.
¡°No, I¡¯m afraid that we need to speak with the Count about another matter entirely,¡± He replied. Adrian exhaled audibly and relaxed a little while the composure of his companion Schwartzbaum remained unchanged; standing as though a fight was imminent; keeping his eyes glued on the travelers.
¡°Well, if that is what you would like, then I have no reason to not oblige you. I should be able to arrange an audience with you and the Count. He¡¯s currently out attending a ceremony in ?erny Kopec7, a village to the north of here, but he should return to the castle this evening,¡± Adrian explained.
¡°That will work just fine,¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°Good. Now, if you don¡¯t mind me asking, could you tell me more about your mission? I¡¯m sure that Mr. Schwartzbaum and I could be of assistance to you,¡± Adrian asked. Ekkehardt shook his head.
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¡°We are here to deliver justice to a criminal that we believe is hiding in your lands. I¡¯m afraid that we are not at liberty to share any further information with you,¡± Ekkehardt answered. Adrian frowned.
¡°Well, all I have to say to that is that you better have a more elaborate explanation to tell the count. He doesn¡¯t like being left in the dark, especially by people from the capital,¡± Adrian responded. Ekkehardt simply nodded. There was a brief and awkward silence.
¡°Alright,¡± Adrian said, ¡°Allow us to escort you to the banquet hall. You may rest there until the count is ready to speak with you,¡± Ekkehardt nodded. Adrian then looked at the boy who had accompanied him.
¡°Sven, take their horses and have them set up in the stable,¡± Adrian ordered. The boy nodded his head. The boy took a moment to grab the reins of the two horses as the rest of the group walked into the castle bailey, leaving him behind. As the boy began to catch up to everyone else, Ekkehardt¡¯s companion started to lag behind. He then broke out into a dry, hacking cough. Without thinking Sven handed him a white handkerchief, which he accepted and proceeded to cough into. Eventually he returned the handkerchief to the boy before retrieving a small vial of clear liquid from his pocket and downing it in one go. Halfway through this process the rest of the group stopped to look back at them.
¡°Is he alright?¡± Adrian asked.
¡°Oh, he just has a little cold; he¡¯ll be fine,¡± Ekkehardt answered. A few moments later Ekkehardt¡¯s companion regained his composure and rejoined the rest of the group.
¡°Alright then¡¡± Adrian said to himself. As the rest of the group continued walking through the bailey and towards the keep Adrian noticed that the boy, Sven, was standing still and staring at his handkerchief. It was too far away for Adrian to see, but the boy was transfixed by a small red spot on the handkerchief.
¡°Sven!¡± Adrian barked. Immediately the boy¡¯s head snapped back up and pocketed the handkerchief. He then resumed his task as everyone else disappeared into the castle¡¯s keep.
Inside Brandt Castle there was a small meeting room. Like the rest of Count Claudius8 von Brandt¡¯s castle, it was spartan by the standards of the travelers. The furniture was wooden and crude; consisting of one long table that dominated the room and several simple chairs. The stone walls were adorned with only one ratty blue banner that displayed an edelweiss flower. As Ekkehardt entered the room he took note of the fact that the only means he had of exiting the room was through the door he entered it with. The only other aperture within the room¡¯s walls was a small window placed high up on the wall across from the door. Ekkehardt quickly dismissed it as a possible exit point as it was too high to reach, too small to fit through, and partially obstructed by a nest occupied by an owl. Sitting far from the travelers and those who greeted them was Count Claudius. He was a pale and sickly man with a very wrinkled head that was topped with the silver remnants of what once was a head of hair. He was a far cry from the fat and decadent nobles the travelers were accustomed to, his thin body resembling that of a peasant more than that of a member of the nobility. He looked at his guests with blue eyes that shone like a pair of sapphires.
¡°Greetings.¡± He said in a weak voice. Sitting to the left of Claudius was a young man roughly the same age as Ekkehardt, though his face and body were the opposite of those of a knight. No, he had appeared to be a scribe more than anything else. Ekkehardt could see a fearful look on the delicate face that was behind his bobbed brown hair. He kept a small collection of books and scrolls within an arm¡¯s reach of him on the table in front of him.
Ekkehardt moved closer to a chair, but not before counting a total of eight guards standing around the edges of the rooms. He then detached his sheath from his back and placed it (along with the sword within it) on his lap as he sat down. His companion took a seat next to him.
¡°Greeting, Count Claudius,¡± Ekkehardt replied as he sat down. His partner sat down next to him. ¡°I am Sir Ekkehardt Lowe and this is my partner,¡± He said as he gestured to the individual who sat next to him, ¡°I trust that Sir Adrian has informed you of us.¡±
¡°He has, but only briefly,¡± The count replied, ¡°I understand that you wanted to apprehend a criminal who had entered our lands?¡±
¡°That is correct, sir,¡± Ekkehardt replied.
¡°Well then, who is this individual? We have enough trouble as it is so I will do my best to help you bring this criminal to justice.¡±
¡°We are looking for the perpetrator of the Weisshart9 murders,¡± Ekkehardt explained. Claudius winced and rested his head in one of his hands. Claudius then gave a brief look at Adrian. The young man that sat beside Claudius swallowed his saliva in apprehension. He wasn¡¯t the best judge of character, but he understood that this was a sign of major disapproval.
¡°If this is the gendamerie¡¯s idea of a joke then I am not impressed,¡± Claudius said as he sighed.
¡°We are very serious. It is of vital importance that we kill this man and deliver his body back to the capital,¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°So you¡¯re telling me that there is someone in the capital who wants to see justice brought to someone who killed people in a small village in a distant corner of the empire twenty-nine years ago?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°And what purpose does this investigation serve? I know that I am owed no favors in the imperial court and if I was, I would have asked for a thousand different things before requesting for some children to swagger about my lands while investigating decades old murders and salting old wounds,¡± The count asked. Upon hearing this, Ekkehardt began to tense up with small beads of sweat forming on his forehead while his hand formed a fist under the table.
¡°I am afraid that, in the interest of the security of the empire, I can not share that information with you,¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°Then I am afraid that, in the interest of the security of my county, I cannot permit you to conduct your investigation,¡± Count Claudius replied ¡°I will have my men provide you with a place to sleep for the night and some food, but after that I want you gone,¡±
Suddenly Ekkehardt¡¯s companion whispered something into his ear. Ekkehardt swallowed his saliva and inhaled a deep breath.
¡°We know about the dome in the Frauenwald10. We plan to break it open and kill the creature hiding within it,¡± Ekkehardt announced. A look of surprise and dread appeared on the faces of Count Claudius and Adrian. The young man sitting next to Claudius appeared to be confused. His eyes quickly darted around the room as he attempted to figure out what was going on. As all of this was going on Erik Schwartzbaum¡¯s expression remained completely blank. Within a few moments Claudius regained his composure.
¡°Well then, in that case the only place you two will be sleeping tonight is the dungeon,¡± Claudius announced.
Chapter 2
Before anyone in the room could react Ekkehardt leapt up onto his feet. In one swift motion he used his right hand to strike a guard that was standing behind him in the face with the pommel of his sword while using his left hand to grab the chair he was sitting on by its stile and swing at another guard. The side of the chair connected with the guard just below his sternum and knocked him on his back as the other guard that was struck by Ekkehardt stood there in a daze while clutching his bloody nose. Ekkehardt then threw the chair at Schwartzbaum, who barely managed to duck, causing the chair to smash into the stone wall and shatter into several pieces. Ekkehardt was then able to quickly draw his sword and discard his scabbard. The next thing anyone knew Ekkehardt was standing next to his companion with his back up against a corner, one arm holding his sword towards the guards, and his other arm outstretched in front of his companion all while everyone else in the room (except for the two guards that Ekkehardt had attacked) had their weapons drawn. Four of the guards had taken positions around Claudius and two more had entered the room. There was a moment of tense silence as the two groups of combatants waited for the other side to make a move. Eventually Ekkehardt decided to speak up.
¡°If you think that you can talk either of us into surrendering then you¡¯re wasting your breath. I¡¯d be happy to die as long as I get to take as many of you down with me as possible!¡± He announced.
¡°Adrian¡¡± Claudius began only to be cut off by the man he was about to address.
¡°I think we¡¯ve made a mistake here, Claudius¡¡±
¡°If these men find a way to open the dome then that will put everything your father and I built into jeopardy,¡± Claudius responded.
¡°We don¡¯t even know if they can open the dome. Besides, these men are gendarmerie. The law of the empire demands that they be treated as an extension of the emperor. If we kill them then it will be an act of treason,¡± Adrian argued.
¡°I would rather commit treason against the empire than against my own people!¡± Claudius responded.
¡°If the emperor finds out that you killed them then you will be given an ultimatum: Either you will be brought to the rope or the entire county will be brought to the sword,¡±
¡°I don¡¯t fear death. I¡¯d go to the gallows happily if it meant that I kept my people safe,¡±
¡°My liege, if you were to die then there would be nobody to replace you. That would only create a power-vacuum that would plunge the county into another war,¡± Adrian argued. Claudius let out something in between a sigh and a growl.
¡°...I can¡¯t do it, Adrian. I will never surrender the fate of my land and my people to a group that would thoughtlessly condemn hundreds of Nordfell¡¯s sons to death while their own children remain in safety and comfort within castles and manors of the heartland. If the thing sealed in that dome in the Frauenwald were to be unleashed then I can guarantee you that we will see horrors that could not be created or even imagined by the most wicked of the emperor¡¯s men,¡± Claudius argued. Suddenly a voice from behind Ekkehardt boomed in anger and frustration.
¡°Then why don¡¯t you let us kill it?¡± Ekkehardt¡¯s companion shouted. A furious Claudius turned their way.
¡°I am Claudius von Brandt, count of Nordfell and son of Ewald! I¡¯ve ruled this land for five decades and seen what the thing is capable of with my own eyes! Who the hell do you think you are questioning me?¡± Claudius erupted. Ekkehardt¡¯s companion then lowered his hood, revealing themselves to be what looked like a rather effeminate man with a slender build, reddish-orange hair, green eyes, and a face covered in freckles. On his forehead he wore what appeared to be a brown leather headband.
¡°I am Alexander von Adler the younger; son of Alexander von Adler the first, Emperor of Ostermania, King of Peschtia1 and Bratiprah2, Grand Prince of Remina3, Duke of Barbalunga4 and both upper and lower Shlonskia5, Lord of Tergia6 and Vandow7, Voivode8 of all Suidman9, Chancellor of the Holy Confederation of Reme10, and Sovereign of the Order of the Double Eagle! I am the crown prince of the Ostermanian Empire and the only man in existence that can kill the thing in the dome!¡± they announced. A look of utter shock spread to the face of everyone in the room (with the exception of Ekkehardt and Schwartzbaum, the latter of which remained completely expressionless). A weak ¡®what¡¯ leaked out from the mouth of the scribe, who at this point had himself planted in the corner furthest away from Ekkehardt and Adler and was cowering in terror. At least a minute of complete silence followed. The guards kept their weapons ready, but it was clear to Ekkehardt, Schwartzbaum, and Adrian (the three men in the room with the most experience in hand to hand combat) that they had changed. The discipline and determination they had just a few moments ago had been replaced by ambivalence.
¡°Rudolf!¡± Claudius said, speaking with desperation in his voice as he stared at Ekkehardt¡¯s companion with wide open eyes.
¡°Y-yes, sir!¡± The scribe in the corner responded.
¡°Come here,¡± he ordered. Slowly the terrified man made his way to Claudius.
¡°My liege¡¡± the scribe asked. Claudius then leaned in towards him and put one hand on his shoulder.
¡°Rudolf, when you attended the University of K?nigsstadt11, you sent me a letter detailing a visit King Alexander the First and his son made, correct?¡±
¡°Yes, sir.¡±
¡°And in that letter you said you saw Prince Alexander with your own eyes, yes?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°Yes, sir,¡± Rudolf answered. At this point it was clear to even Ekkehardt and his companion that the young scribe¡¯s body was shaking in fear.
¡°Well then,¡± Claudius said as he pointed to the person who had accompanied Ekkehardt with his free hand, ¡°Is this man Prince Alexander the second?¡± he asked. Rudolf stared at this person for several moments. For those few moments the room was silent as a crypt and time flowed like molasses. Eventually, the young man spoke up.
¡°Yes... that is Prince Alexander¡¡± Rudolf declared. The room fell silent once again, but only briefly. Eventually Claudius turned to Adrian and spoke up.
¡°I¡¯ve made my decision. Order them to lower their weapons and stand down,¡± He declared. Adrian let out a long and audible sigh of relief as he sheathed his sword.
¡°You heard the man.¡± he barked. One by one the guards lowered their weapons and moved away from the travelers, leaving only Schwartzbaum with his weapon drawn.
¡°Erik...¡± Adrian called. Without any further protest or hesitation, Schwartzbaum sheathed his sword. Ekkhardt and Adler soon followed suit. Claudius then walked back towards the table and returned to his seat. Seeing this gesture as an attempt to further de-escalate the situation, everyone else then proceeded to sit down, with the exception of Ekkehardt, who no longer had a chair. Adrian decided to help by ordering the guards to position themselves within the guest¡¯s field of vision. The guard who had been hit in the face by Ekkehardt had begun to bleed from his nose. Realizing this, he took a seat next to Rudolf, who had produced a bag with medical equipment in it and began to treat the injured guard. As soon as everyone got settled Claudius began to speak.
¡°I apologize for that¡ unpleasant situation that we had found ourselves in¡ I¡¡±
¡°Consider yourself forgiven, sir. It is my fault that we got to that point. I should have revealed my identity sooner,¡± Adler responded, briefly shifting his gaze away from Claudius to look at the injured guard and then the broken chair before returning to the count, ¡°I might have been able to prevent this.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sure that you had a good reason to deceive us, your highness, but I would like to hear it before I give you permission to do as you please in my land.¡±
¡°Well then, I suppose that it would be best for me to start at the beginning.¡± Adler began, ¡°It all started three months ago. I was in a meeting with my late brother-in-law Prince Philip of Kleinkastelburg12. This was one month before his death.¡±
¡°My condolences, your highness.¡± Count Claudius said. Although he was good at hiding it, Adler and Ekkehardt knew that his words were not completely sincere. The two of them didn¡¯t let this bother them.
¡°Thank you, sir.¡± Adler responded, ¡°If I remember correctly, I was speaking with him¡ or more accurately I was speaking with his advisors about affairs in the region. It went well and eventually I took a break to speak with my younger sister¡¡±
In the corner of his eye Adler could see Rudolf count to ten on his fingers while muttering something to himself. Although Adler could not hear the scribe, he knew exactly what the scribe was whispering: ¡®Adelaide, Amelia, Aurora, Agatha, Alena, Aveline, Agrippina, Alexander¡¡¯. Rudolf then moved to Claudius and whispered something into his ear. Once again, Adler knew exactly what the scribe was saying: the name of the girl in question and the rumors that swirled around her.
¡°Alexandra; your twin sister?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°Yes. I found her within a tower that she occupied during the day. She was with my other sister Agrippina, who was the wife of the late Prince Philip. We spoke for a while. Then, with absolutely no warning at all, her skin turned unusually pale and she began to go into a seizure,¡± Adler explained.
¡°I don¡¯t wish to cause any offense, but was this related to her¡ uh¡ condition?¡± Claudius asked. Ekkehardt did not appear to be pleased by this question.
¡°That is what I thought at the time. Our bodyguards (Ekkehardt, Ludwig, and Siegfried) and I tried to help her, but everything just¡ fell apart so quickly,¡± Adler explained before looking down and sighing. ¡°Then, somehow, my sister kicked me in the chest with an inhuman level of strength; throwing me against a wall. The next thing I knew Ludwig was dead, Siegfried had a letter opener lodged in his right eye socket, Agrippina had fled, and Ekkehardt was fighting Alexandra, who was somehow on her feet and armed with a sword, probably Ludwig¡¯s. I got up and tried to talk some sense into my sister, but it was useless. When I asked her to put down her sword she hissed at me.¡±
¡°Hissed? You mean like a snake?¡± Adrian interjected.
¡°Yes. It was rather disturbing when it happened. She then tried to throw herself at me, but Siegfried was able to push me out the way at the last moment. At this point, my sister¡¯s failed attack left her on one of the tower¡¯s balconies. She then leapt onto the handrail of the balcony before using that position to jump onto the tower''s exterior wall and climb to the roof. This is something that she would have never done before as she was deathly afraid of heights. We were all completely confused by this turn of events. We simply stood there in silence as we tried to determine if going onto the balcony and trying to confront Alexandra was the best course of action. The cramped nature of that particular space, the dangers of falling to one¡¯s death, and the fact that the shape of the tower¡¯s roof made it very easy for someone to be attacked from above made this decision very difficult. After a few tense moments the decision was made for us. Alexandra broke through the ceiling and dropped herself right on top of us. She attempted to make a downward stab into Ekkehardt¡¯s shoulder and through his heart, but she barely missed, badly slicing Ekkehardt¡¯s back, but failing to deliver a killing blow. The sword she was carrying snapped in half as its point connected with the floor. She then threw the broken hilt of the sword at Siegfried. The broken blade hit him in the forehead, just above his remaining eye, and knocked him down. Then, with one turning kick, she knocked Ekkehardt across the room and moved on to me. I didn¡¯t have any time to react. I just blinked and she was in front of me. Then she lifted me up in the air by my neck using only one hand. I clawed into her hand with my fingernails, but it did nothing. Her flesh had become like iron. As I felt the cold embrace of death inch ever closer I couldn¡¯t help, but notice that during this entire time Alexandra¡¯s eyes had never returned to their proper position. Instead they remained rolled towards the back of her head. Thankfully, Siegfried used this opportunity to sneak behind Alexandra and put her into a sleeper hold. The broken sword had apparently failed to penetrate his skull. As soon as Alexandra was rendered unconscious we were able to get the royal physician to chemically sedate her and have her chained to her bed. Siegfried assisted with all of this. He was able to immediately remove the broken sword from his head without any assistance, but the letter opener required a physician¡¯s attention. He didn¡¯t ask for the letter opener to be removed from his eye socket until after Alexandra had been chained up.¡±
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¡°My god¡¡± Adrian said to himself. Rudolf¡¯s face contorted into an expression of dread with his eyes wide and his mouth hung open while Claudius simply stared at Adler with a morose and tired face. The only person in the room that was (at least visibility) unaffected by Adler¡¯s story was Schwartzbaum, whose face remained expressionless. After a short pause, Adler continued his story.
¡°When Alexandra awoke her demeanor had changed completely. Before the incident she was a quiet young girl. She was timid, but also humble, precocious, kind, beautiful, and intelligent,¡± Adler said as the eyes of the whole room remained glued on them. Nobody noticed Ekkehardt narrowing his eyes and briefly shifting his gaze towards Adler quizzically.
¡°All of this changed after the sedatives we had given her wore off,¡± Adler continued, ¡°Once she awoke all that came from her mouth was a combination of the most foul obscenities, blasphemies, and vivid descriptions of how she planned to attack and mutilate everyone around her all delivered in long and sometimes incoherent rants. The worst part of all of this is that she did all of this while speaking in Peschtian.¡± Adler continued. The last word of Adler¡¯s sentence almost made Rudolf want to laugh and he might have if the situation wasn¡¯t so serious.
¡°What¡¯s wrong with Peschtian?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°The problem is that Alexandra never learned how to speak Peschtian,¡± Ekkehardt answered, ¡°She had excelled at her native Alemanian13 as well as Reminite, Bratiprahan, and Suidmanish and she had some understanding of Strivalian14 and Metrovingian15, but her fluency in Peschtian never extended beyond basic greetings and how to ask where the lavatory is.¡±
¡°Over the course of the next week my sister was examined several times by the royal physician. By the end of the week he came to four conclusions: That someone or something had put a curse on Alexandra, that if the curse was allowed to continue then it would kill her in three years, that the royal house possessed a recipe for a potion that could lift the curse¡ and¡¡± Adler explained.
¡°And what else? What were his last two conclusions?¡± Claudius asked. Adler then regained their composition and responded.
¡°The fourth conclusion that the royal physician reached was that the curse targeted people based on their bloodline and would jump to its victim¡¯s next of kin once it had consumed them. This brings me to the physician''s last revelation: if Alexandra dies then I¡¯m next,¡± Adler answered. For a moment the room was silent.
¡°Your highness, I find all of this to be rather unfortunate, but I still do not understand how this brings you to Nordfell or what any of this has to do with the thing in the dome,¡± Claudius asked.
¡°I am only here, because the potion we need to lift the curse requires the blood of a demon. That is what the thing in the dome is and I intend to kill it,¡± Adler proclaimed
¡°Your highness I apologize for my lack of faith in your abilities, but what makes you think you can kill such a thing or even get to it?¡± Claudius remarked as he poured some ale into a wooden cup.
¡°I was told that it would be easy, once I obtain an object that has been hidden away in one of the dark corners of your land,¡± Adler responded.
¡°And which object would? My land has many dark corners in it, but I don¡¯t think there is much of value in any of them,¡± Claudius asked as he picked up his cup.
¡°Well, during my research into Nordfell, I was informed of a cave within your county called ¡®Pe?ter? Agonic?16¡¯. I assume that you are familiar with it?¡± Adler asked.
¡°Yes, I am. What do you know of it?¡± Claudius responded before taking a sip of his ale.
¡°I know that it¡¯s only accessible high in the mountains to the north. The interior is a complex labyrinth filled with an abnormal darkness; a darkness far beyond a starless and moonless midnight; a darkness that no torch or lantern can penetrate. At the center of all of this is a sword that shines like a magnificent bolt of silver lighting in a sea of darkness, but also inflicts intense feelings of fear, shame, disgust, and hopelessness upon anyone who touches it.¡±
¡°And why do you want this particular sword, when there are so many in this county that aren¡¯t cursed?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°I never said it was cursed, sir,¡± Adler shot back.
¡°If it¡¯s not cursed then what is it?¡±
¡°It is simply repelling anyone who isn¡¯t its rightful owner,¡± Adler replied.
¡°So you think the sword is your property?¡± Claudius deduced before mentally adding ¡®Well, of course you do! You people think everything is your property!¡¯
¡°Yes. I have reason to believe that this sword is property of the Adlers and as the rightful heir to all that is owned by the Adlers I should have no problem collecting this sword.¡±
¡°And why do you have reason to believe that the sword belongs to you?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°Because the few descriptions of it that the imperial records have match up with a sword that has been wielded by my family since before we took the name ¡®Adler¡¯. It was forged long ago and carried by one of my ancestors when the Alemanian tribes sacked the Occidental Reman Empire. It was said to be blessed with the power to vanquish any enemy, human or otherwise, by not only the last of the arch-druids of the Alemanian pagan faith, but also by Saint Fredrick, the man who converted the Alemanian people to the Kroppian17 religion. Some time after this the sword was used by my ancestor Guntram Aust to kill a demon in the Albus mountains. The site of Guntram¡¯s battle would eventually be where Guntram¡¯s grandson would build Castle Adler, my ancestral home. The sword remained in my family¡¯s possession until the time of the Bergmen hordes, when it disappeared from the records along with many other things at that time,¡± Adler explained. Claudius sat there, seeming rather unimpressed as he poured himself another cup of ale.
¡°I believe that, once I have this sword, I will be able to shatter the Frauenwald dome and kill the demon hiding underneath it,¡± Adler concluded.
¡°You seem to be putting a lot of faith in this one sword, your highness. The way you talk about it, it almost seems like you think the sword is some sort of gift from God,¡± Adrian remarked. Adler smiled.
¡°Well, it was forged from celestial iron¡¡± Adler replied. At that moment Adrian and Claudius went stiff. Claudius put his cup down just as it came within millimeters of his lips before quickly shifting his gaze towards Adrian, who was doing the exact same thing. After half a second of this they both quickly regained their composure.
¡°Oh¡¡± Adrian remarked. It was clear to everyone in the room that he wanted to conclude that particular tangent and carry on with the conversation.
¡°Well your highness, that is an interesting story and for all I know it could be true. What I still don¡¯t understand is why you risked your life coming all the way here when you could have just given someone else the right to take the sword and let them deal with the demon,¡± the count inquired.
¡°That wouldn¡¯t have worked, sir. The sword can only be wielded by someone of the Adler dynasty. Besides, I am of the opinion that anyone who refuses to put the needs of their family members above their own personal comfort and safety is unfit to lead a family; nevermind an empire,¡± Adler explained. Claudius looked down at the table with a tired and solemn expression on his face. After a moment he returned to Adler.
¡°I have a feeling that I will regret this, but I will permit you to go about your mission,¡± Claudius yielded. Adler breathed a sigh of relief.
¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Adler replied.
¡°The night is beginning to grow old. I believe that we have a room for you to sleep in, should you accept it.¡±
¡°As long as it is not a dungeon I¡¯m sure it will be fine, sir,¡± Adler remarked. Adrian smirked at that comment.
¡°Well in that case, I think you should retire for the night. We have much to sort out, but I¡¯m sure it can wait until the morning.¡± Claudius said. Upon hearing this Adler began to get up, only to be stopped when Claudius spoke up unexpectedly.
¡°Your highness!¡± Claudius shouted. Adler and Ekkehardt turned around to face the count.
¡°I almost forgot; there is one thing that I would like to ask you before you retire for the night,¡± Claudius asked.
¡°Yes?¡±
¡°Why did you come for this particular demon?¡± He asked. Adler inhaled and braced himself before giving his answer.
¡°As I said before we need the blood of a demon that is extremely adept at creating curses¡¡± Adler began before pausing. Claudius stared at Adler, awaiting an answer. After an awkward moment he resumed.
¡°I apologize, sir. What I am about to say is going to be a little difficult for the both of us, as I think you may find it hard to believe.¡±
¡°Many strange things have happened here in Nordfell. Don¡¯t think that you are special,¡± Claudius responded. Adler nodded and returned to his explanation.
¡°Obtaining the blood of a demon that can create strong curses is our objective. The stronger the demon¡¯s power, the more likely the potion is to save Alexandra. In light of this knowledge, we have set out to slay the one demon who is most adept at cursing people. We believe the creature in the Frauenwald forest is the most suitable target, because we have information linking it to a number of crimes across Adler lands; crimes that have become infamous not just in the empire, but on the entire continent.¡±
¡°What crimes are you referring to?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°For starters there were the Weisshart murders twenty-nine years ago which we believe it was responsible for. A year after Weisshart a series of strange occurrences began taking place in the empire. In one village a blacksmith with no history of violence took a crucible full of molten lead and poured it on his newborn son before attacking and disfiguring his wife. This was followed by a series of similar events of otherwise peaceful men, women, and children performing acts of unprovoked violence against their friends and family. These incidents, usually involving only handfuls of people would continue for about five years before escalating dramatically. Elsewhere, forty peasants crammed themselves into the entrance of a castle only to have five more peasants pour boiling oil upon them through the castle¡¯s murder-holes, resulting in thirty-two of the peasants dying from their burns before the five peasants that were pouring the oil jumped to their deaths. Strangely, both of the sets of double-doors that lead to this entrance area were open when this took place, meaning that anyone in the kill-zone could have run or even walked to safety, but none of them did. A few months later a group of soldiers found an entire village skinned alive. The skin of all of the villagers was placed in the village square like some sort of religious offering and it was surrounded by what remained of the villagers. The soldiers soon discovered that a handful of the villagers were still alive, just barely. Naturally they asked these people ¡®who did this to you?¡¯. All of the villagers who were still living told them that everyone had skinned themselves voluntarily. This claim was later supported by the fact that knives and sickles were found near the bodies and nothing of value in the village was stolen or destroyed. The final event of that year was probably the most disturbing: A group of soldiers came across a village that was empty, except for about fifty people who were huddled around a well. When the soldiers greeted the villagers all they replied with was that they ¡®had to jump in the well¡¯. When the soldiers attempted to move the villagers they resisted violently, causing a fight to break out. Once this crowd was pacified the soldiers were able to see the well with their own eyes. It was full of people; stuffed like a sausage. The soldiers spent the next two weeks trying to remove the villagers from the well. The ones on the top were perfectly healthy, but attempted to resist being lifted out. As the soldiers went deeper and deeper in they found people who had been suffocated or crushed by the people above them. Towards the bottom bodies became more and more deformed, suffering injuries that would suggest they fell from a long distance. Eventually the only human remains left in the well was a thick red paste.¡± Incidents like these would continue for another ten years, mostly within the empire, but also in neighboring countries. While there was never an exact repeat of any specific event all of them had two things in common: an upstanding person with no history of violence, sometimes even children, committing a senseless and vile act against themselves, their friends, or their families and the fact that they all claimed to have been following the orders of a man with horns on his head; a man who is said to have cursed them ¡¡±
¡°You¡¯re not saying¡¡± Claudius leaked out. Adler decided to finish his sentence for him.
¡°Yes. We believe the monster we are hunting is the one known as ¡®The Cursemaker¡¯.¡±
Chapter 3
A few minutes later Adler and Ekkehardt left the room and were escorted to their quarters. Claudius the guards remaining in the room.
¡°I will need you to leave us,¡± He announced. The guards immediately complied, leaving Claudius, Adiran, Erik, and Rudolf in the room. Claudius then sighed.
¡°And here I thought the biggest issue of this month was the bog iron collection edict¡¡± He muttered. He then turned to Adrian. ¡°Adrian, what do you think of them?¡± Adrian sighed.
¡°I don¡¯t know. All I can really tell you is that I have a bad feeling about all of this. If the prince dies out here, then we¡¯re going to have a great deal of problems.¡±
¡°I agree,¡± Rudolf added. ¡°Alexander the younger is his father¡¯s only son. If he were to die then the empire would have a succession crisis on its hands. Secession, invasion, even a civil war between different Ostermanian factions would be on the table. Actually, it wouldn¡¯t be unfathomable to see all three of those things at once.¡±
¡°I¡¯m afraid that you may be under-estimating the severity of the situation we have on our hands¡¡± A raspy voice said. The whole room turned to Schwartzbaum, the owner of said voice.
¡°What do you mean?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°Give me a moment, this might be a little difficult to explain,¡± Schwartzbaum replied as he began to grab a couple of objects that were sitting around the room. The man spoke Alemanian just like the others in the room, though he did not speak with an Ostermanian accent. His dialect was one of the cruder kinds spoken in the Confederation.
Schwartzbaum then placed a chess set and a map on the table in full view of everyone. The map depicted Yerb1, the continent that the Ostermanian Empire resided in. The continent was a west-ward facing peninsula with three smaller south-ward facing peninsulas attached to it. There were also three large islands near the peninsula, one to the north and two to the north-west.
¡°Now, as you all know, the Ostermanian Empire is already one of the largest powers on the continent,¡± He explained as he placed a black king on a country that took up most of the land on the eastern side of the main peninsula, ¡°It directly controls a number of kingdoms to the south-east of the continent and indirectly controls the majority of the Alemianian-speaking world thanks to the fact that the Emperor of Ostermania or one of his puppets is always elected chancellor of the Holy Confederation of Reme. If there was some sort of crisis within the empire then all of the land held by the von Adlers and the Confederation would be dragged into it. That much is obvious. Unfortunately, Emperor Alexander von Adler the first has done something that would make this much worse,¡± Schwartzbaum explained.
¡°What do you mean Erik?¡± Adrian asked.
¡°In the emperor¡¯s quest to obtain a suitable male heir he was hindered by what appeared to be a supernatural ability to only conceive daughters. His late wife gave birth to the princesses Adelaide, Amelia, Aurora, Agatha, Alena, Aveline, and Agrippina before he was able to conceive prince Alexander the younger. Now, any other man would have seen this as a massive disappointment, but Alexander was able to turn this curse into a blessing. By strategically marrying off his daughters he has managed to put a finger in every pie on the damn continent.¡± Schwartzbaum explained.
The man then lifted a black pawn up to his face. ¡°The first daughter, Adelaide von Adler, was married off to Prince Pierre the second of the Kingdom of Metrovingia and gave birth to a son, Pierre the third.¡± He said as he placed the pawn on a large country to the west of the empire before getting another pawn.
¡°A few years after that the second oldest daughter, Amelia, was married to Juan the fourth of the Kingdom of Iberistan2 before giving birth to his son, Jaun the fifth.¡± He said as he placed the pawn on the western-most peninsula. ¡°The third daughter: Aurora, wife of Prince Carl the eighth of Sviaria-Soumland3 and mother of Carl the ninth.¡± He said as he placed another pawn on the large island that lay to the north of the continent. Schwartzbaum continued this for Agatha, Alenia, and Aveline, at which point he produced a rook and placed it on a small country between Metrovingia and the Confederation. ¡°Finally there is Agrippina, wife of the late Philip of Kleinkastelburg, who has effectively become its ruler after her husband¡¯s ¡®untimely demise¡¯ on a hunting excursion two months ago,¡± he explained. At this point the majority of the countries on the map had some sort of black chess piece on them.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°What are you getting at here, Erik?¡± Adrian asked.
¡°It¡¯s simple: While King Alexander¡¯s strategy of marrying his daughters into every royal family on the continent has given him the ability to exert massive amounts of soft power it has also created a situation where every one of those royal families has the ability stake a claim on the imperial throne; provided that Alexander¡¯s male line, which is currently only consists of himself and his son, dies out.¡± Schwartzbaum explained. As the three other men in the room processed Schwartzbaum¡¯s words their muscles began to tense and their blood turned to ice-water.
¡°My god¡¡± Rudolf said, ¡°If even half of those countries decided to try to put one of their own on the imperial throne then the continent could see war on a scale that it hasn¡¯t seen since the time of the Bergmen Horde, or the Reman civil wars.¡±
¡°Well in that case, we better do everything in our power to help the prince. If the entire continent were to burn then Nordfell would burn with it and I don¡¯t know if I will live long enough to see this county out of that,¡± Claudius explained.
¡°Understood, sir. I¡¯ll make sure that there are at least six soldiers with them at all times,¡± Adrian replied. Claudius shook his head.
¡°No, make it twelve,¡± Claudius corrected. Adrian nodded his head.
¡°I¡¯ll make it happen, sir,¡± He responded.
¡°Good. I would also like for you to double the garrisons at the villages between Neustadt and Weisshart. Also send a message out to the leader of every village militia in the county: They need to be prepared to mobilize every able-bodied man possible as soon as possible,¡± Claudius ordered. He then turned to Schwartzbaum and Rudolf.
¡°Erik, I need you to send the Band of the Crow to Weisshart. When you get there I want you to tell Unterbrink that your men will be relieving his unit and that they¡¯re to report to me for new orders at once. I believe that the blockhouse in Weisshart is only big enough to accommodate a force roughly half of your size, but we should be able to mitigate this problem if we use the nearby church as an auxiliary barracks...¡± Claudius continued, only to be cut off by Adrian.
¡°Sir, isn¡¯t that church run by¡¡± Adrian interjected.
¡°Father Taggart?¡± Claudius said, completely Adrian¡¯s question, ¡°Yes. It is. If he cooperates with us then that¡¯s fine and if he doesn¡¯t then that shouldn¡¯t be a problem. He¡¯s not the same man he was thirty years ago.¡±
¡°So I have permission to kill him, should it be necessary?¡± Schwartzbaum asked. Claudius shook his head.
¡°No. I don¡¯t want to see any harm done to the man. If you have to, have him sent here for internment, but don¡¯t hurt him,¡± Claudius answered. Schwartzbaum nodded his head.
¡°Understood. Anything else, sir?¡± Schwartzbaum asked.
¡°No. Just make sure that the Band of the Crow is able to leave as soon as possible. I trust that your Mizraimi4 friend can have this arranged?¡± Claudius asked.
¡°Yes, sir,¡± Schwartzbaum answered. Claudius then turned to the young scribe.
¡°Rudolf, I want you to brief Schwartzbaum on the terrain surrounding Weisshart before he leaves tomorrow. Once you¡¯ve done that I want you to inspect every defensive structure within and around Neustadt. If there is a weakness anywhere then I want to know about it and have it corrected,¡± Claudius continued. He then turned to Adrian once again. ¡°Adrian, I am also going to need Sven to take my armor out of storage and make sure it¡¯s in working order.¡±
¡°Sir, I hope you¡¯re not thinking about getting yourself into a fight. Even if this all goes horribly wrong, you won¡¯t be able to do the things you did thirty years ago,¡± Adrian warned. Claudius sighed.
¡°I know. I understand that my days of leading from the front are over, but if I have to raise my sword, by God I¡¯m going to do it and do it well,¡± He replied as a concerned look appeared on Adrian¡¯s face.
¡°Understood, sir. Anything else?¡± Adrian replied.
¡°Yes. One more thing: sometime tomorrow I want someone to summon Klaus Zimmermann to the castle.¡±
¡°Zimmermann, that carpenter? What is he going to do for us?'''' Adrian asked.
¡°He¡¯s going to build us another chair,¡± Claudius replied as he gestured towards the remains of the chair Ekkehardt had broken. With that the meeting adjourned and the men prepared for the difficult days that lie ahead.
None of them noticed an owl fly away from the window as they left.
Elsewhere in Brandt Castle
¡°I apologize for the accommodations, but it is all that we could prepare, given the circumstances,¡± a guard said as he opened the door to a modest room with two beds, a wooden desk, stone flooring, and stone walls.
¡°This will be fine,¡± Adler replied.
¡°Are you sure, your highness? I could get you your own room and open up some space in the barracks for your knight if you would like.¡±
¡°No. Wherever I go, Ekkehardt goes. That is the way this works.¡±
¡°Alright then. Let someone know if you need anything,¡± the guard said. Adler and Ekkehardt nodded. The two of them entered the room and stared at each other in silence as the door closed and footsteps outside got quieter and quieter. Finally, Ekkehardt spoke up.
¡°I think he¡¯s gone.¡±
¡°So it¡¯s safe to talk normally now, Ekkehardt?¡± Adler replied.
¡°I believe so,¡± Ekkehardt answered. The next words that came from Adler¡¯s mouth were spoken in a higher pitched and more effeminate voice.
¡°How was my act?¡±
¡°I think they bought it.¡±
¡°Good. Now that we have that out of the way, could you roll out our map of Nordfell out on that desk?¡± Ekkehardt¡¯s companion said as they pointed at the desk. Ekkehardt smiled.
¡°As you wish, Princess Alexandra.¡±
Chapter 4
Meanwhile, some distance to the south-west of Neustadt, a group of five in dark hooded cloaks walked down a road. Suddenly, one of the five stopped. The other four stopped and reached for their weapons, but their leader signaled them to stand down. This man pulled his hood down, revealing an abnormally pale face topped with a head of short white hair. The man possessed an eerie beauty, his snow-white face and handsome features gave him the appearance of a marble statue carved by some master artist from antiquity. With his blood-red eyes he peered into the dark sky above before pointing to a gray owl flying up in the air. The owl proceeded to swoop down and land behind a tree near the group. The hoot of an owl could be heard, followed by the grunt of a man. Then, a short, slimy-built man with flaxen hair fashioned in a bowl cut emerged from behind the tree. He was completely naked. The man appeared disoriented and kept one hand on the trunk of the tree.
¡°Glasses,¡± He said as he looked in the general direction of the group. One dark-haired member of the group, who was slightly taller than the naked man and whose figure had the slightest hint of femininity, approached the man and produced a pair of glasses. The glasses had a brass frame and thick lenses. The naked, flaxen-haired man reached out and grabbed the glasses with some difficulty, as though he was feeling his way through a dark room. Once he got a hold of the glasses he put them on and let go of the tree before letting out a deep sigh. The glasses were rather large on the man¡¯s face and their thick lenses made his eyes appear to be much larger than they actually were.
¡°You have something to report, Sova1?¡± The white-haired man asked. The bespectacled man nodded his head.
¡°Yes, brother. They met with the count. I can give you the details later, but it more or less went exactly as father predicted,¡± He answered.
¡°So he didn¡¯t kill them?¡± Griped the largest member of the group before letting out a yawn. He was an extraordinarily large man; he stood at a height of roughly two imperial paces2 and was built like a fortress of fat and muscle. It went without saying that he was the biggest member of the group.
¡°I¡¯m afraid not, Nied?wied?3,¡± Sova, the naked and bespectacled man said to the large man.
¡°Oh. I was hoping that we would get to go home now. I want to go home,¡± Nied?wied?, the large man, complained. As Nied?wied? complained a fifth member of the group broke out into laughter.
¡°Where is the fun in that, you big oaf? What¡¯s the point of coming here if all we¡¯re going to do is just go back? I want to¡ have some fun. Besides, if that were to happen father wouldn¡¯t be happy. Is that what you want, imbecile?¡± The laughing woman said as she licked her lips. Nied?wied?, the large man recoiled away from the laughing woman and his eyes began to water up. He genuinely looked as though he was about to cry.
¡°Hien?4, what did we say about calling your brother that?¡± The white-haired leader of the group asked. He spoke with a tone and a facial expression that would suggest a flat affect, a lack of emotion, but, to the rest of the group, the atmosphere completely changed in that moment. Sova, the bespectacled man, pressed his bare back up against the tree behind him as his eyes, already enlarged by the lenses of his glasses, widened in horror. The sixth man, a man of average height with long and messy brown hair who had not spoken up till this point, stepped up to Nied?wied? and put himself between him and Hien? (the laughing woman) before nudging him away from the group¡¯s leader and the laughing woman. One of his arms was outstretched across the large man¡¯s chest while the other one hung by his side with the hand at the end of it made into a fist. As this was going on the body language of the group¡¯s leader remained completely unchanged. His heart rate remained at under sixty beats per minute as he stared into the eyes of the laughing woman. Hien? continued to laugh as she spoke up.
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¡°Oh, not this shit again, Nashorn5.¡± she said. The leader of the group, Nashorn, began to walk towards Hien?.
¡°Nas, I don¡¯t¡¡± The dark-haired female member of the group began to speak, but she found herself unable to complete her sentence. At that point it was too late. Hien? and Nashorn were within an arm¡¯s length of each other. Sova and the three other members could only watch what was about to unfold before them. Without any warning Hien? threw a punch at Nashorn¡¯s face. Nashorn¡¯s legs buckled as his body bent backwards. Hien?¡¯s fist flew harmlessly through the air above his forehead. Before Hien? could react, the underside of her arm burst open as blood splattered over Nashorn¡¯s face. Hien? howled in pain as Nashorn hit her in the side of the head with a round-house kick and sent her flying face-first into a tree.
Hien? collapsed onto the ground in the prone position. Nashorn walked over to her and grabbed her by her greasy black hair before slamming her face into the cold, hard ground with enough force to kill an ordinary human. He then raised Hien?¡¯s face up so that the length of her nose was parallel to the ground.
¡°What did we say about calling Nied?wied? an imbecile?¡± Nashorn growled.
¡°Fuck you, Nashorn!¡± Hien? shouted, her bloodied face still bearing a crooked grin. For a brief moment it appeared as though her canine teeth had become unnaturally enlarged. Nashorn then slammed Hien?¡¯s into the ground three more times. This time, when Nashorn lifted Hien?¡¯s face up, the look it bore was one of defeat and exhaustion.
¡°What did we say about calling Nied?wied? an imbecile?¡± The leader repeated.
¡°That it¡¯s not nice¡ That we shouldn¡¯t do it...¡± Hien? leaked out.
¡°Good. Now apologize to your brother,¡± Nashorn ordered.
¡°I¡¯m sorry I called you an imbecile, Nied?...¡± Hien? whimpered. Nied?wied?, the large man just looked at Hien? with a red and teary face.
¡°Good,¡± The group¡¯s leader said before letting go of Hien? and stepping away from her. Hien? had regained her bearings and quickly scrambled away from Nashorn. She had done all of this while hyper-ventalating. Once she had regained control of her breathing she wiped a bit of blood off of her face with her index finger, before sticking the finger into her mouth and sucking on it. After a few moments she removed her (now clean) finger from her mouth and a smile formed on her bloody face. She then let out a quiet laugh. There was a brief silence as everyone processed what just happened. Then Nashorn began to speak.
¡°Everybody...I don¡¯t like what I just did, but I swear I¡¯ll do it again if I hear any more of this petty bullshit. We¡¯re not here to ¡®have fun¡¯ or bicker with each other like normal. We¡¯re here to do a job. We need to do this job and come home safe, but we can only do that if we don¡¯t get distracted. From here on out there¡¯s going to be no name-calling, no complaining about wanting to go home, no pissing on fence posts for the fun of it, no stealing chickens, and absolutely none whatever degenerate shit you do in your free time,¡± Nashorn declared, turning to Hien? for the last part. Hien? smiled a wide smile upon hearing that. Nashorn then returned to his speech.
¡°And one more thing: What father will do to us if we screw this job up is much worse than anything I could ever do to Hien?,¡± Nashorn said. There was another long silence. Eventually Nashorn broke it with a deep sigh.
¡°Sova, how far away are we from Neustadt?¡± He asked.
¡°About an hour on foot,¡± Sova answered.
¡°Good. We¡¯re going to need a good night¡¯s sleep in a proper bed¡ or at the very least a stable,¡± Nashorn responded.
¡°I agree,¡± Sova responded.
¡°Alright. Sova, either put some clothes on and join us or turn back into a bird and wait for us in Neustadt. We¡¯re all tired of looking at your pecker.¡±
¡°...Yes, brother¡¡± Sova replied. He then removed glasses and handed them to Nashorn. A few moments later a brown owl was once again flying through the night sky, north-east to Neustadt.
¡°Alright, let¡¯s get moving. We have a lot of work to do,¡± Nashorn ordered. The rest of the group nodded their heads in agreement and five of them began to walk through the dark night to Neustadt.
Chapter 5
Three months prior to the arrival of the travelers at Brandt castle Prince Alexander von Adler of the Ostermanian empire sat across a table from the delegation of Kleinkastelburgers. The room that they sat in was opulent. The walls were adorned with priceless paintings and the table that dominated the room was constructed out of the finest Strivalian granite. Naturally, Alexander was not out of place. The prince was a young man of below average height. He had a rather slender frame and a handsome, almost effeminate, face topped with bright orange hair and sprinkled with freckles. He was dressed in an elegant green gambeson adorned with gold accents and matching tights. A brown leather belt was wrapped around his waist, from which hung a one-handed sword with a golden, emerald encrusted hilt topped with a crossguard in the shape of a double headed eagle. On his head the young prince wore a gold circlet with two small emeralds on its ends. The circlet was worn in a manner that put its ends over Alexander¡¯s forehead. The small principality¡¯s delegation consisted of its sovereign, Prince Philip, and a group of five advisors. Alexander clenched his fist below the table as he smiled at his guests and spoke to them with respect and kindness. He wasn¡¯t sure if the foreigners could see through his facade, but after three hours of talking with these people he was all, but overcome with the need to exit the room and wash his hands of them.
Alexander had originally never intended to be here. These sorts of high-level discussions with foreign leaders were usually left to his father, Emperor Alexander, but he was forced to travel to the summer palace in Peschtia to meet with an Osminite1 delegation about their war reparations. The Osminites had been unfortunate enough to get themselves embroiled in another conflict; this time with their eastern neighbors, the Farcini2. To make matters worse, the emperor wanted to use this meeting as an opportunity to insert an Ostermanian nobleman, Baron Oskar von Sanders, into the Osminite army as a military observer and Prince Alexander was tasked with finding someone to manage the nobleman¡¯s barony while he was gone, as he was a widower and his sons were still very young.
¡°So, it is decided then?¡± Kramer, the de facto leader of Prince Philip¡¯s advisors, said as Alexander¡¯s mind returned to the conversation.
¡°Yes¡¡± Alexander replied, ¡°If you agree to provide free passage through your territory and logistical support to the empire¡¯s army if a war were to break out between the empire and either the Kingdom of Metrovingia or any of the Alemanian states then I will agree reduce all tariffs placed on Kleinkastelburgish goods by fifty percent.¡±
¡°Excellent,¡± Kramer said as he smiled a wide, snake-like smile. He then turned to one of the men sitting next to Alexander; a scribe. ¡°When do you think you can have that in writing?¡± he asked.
¡°Actually, I already have two copies of the treaty ready to be signed,¡± The scribe answered.
¡°I had my scribes write up several templates ahead of time. Once that was done all they needed to do was fill in the blanks,¡± Alexander explained.
¡°I see,¡± Kramer said to himself. Alexander¡¯s reason to do this was partially to make it easier for him to attend to other matters, partially so that he would be a good host by not wasting his guests¡¯ time, and partially because he had accurately predicted that it was in his best interest to have the delegation leave as soon as possible. Both copies of the document were written on parchment in Metrovingian, the vehicular language of the continent. A scribe then proceeded to hand one copy of the treaty and a quill to Alexander and Kramer. Alexander then picked up his quill and read the document over once more. As Alexander looked at his document he wondered if he was making the right decision. He was sent into this meeting with the expectation that he would be reducing the tariffs on Kleinkastelburgish by three-fourths in exchange for only allowing the empire¡¯s army to pass through Kleinkastelburg if there was a war. It was only through his skill in negotiations that he got as good of a deal that he did. The empire was in a better position to wage war against its neighbors and Philip¡¯s advisors, all of whom were very wealthy and powerful merchants, could now sell goods in the empire while keeping more of the profits. The deal benefited all individuals in the room except for one. This individual became the center of attention as the eyes of Philip¡¯s advisors, Alexander, and Alexander¡¯s entourage turned to a young man sitting criss-cross in a distant corner of the room.
He had dirty blonde hair and a pair of unfocused hazel eyes, but his most notable feature was an absence of flesh on part of the upper right-hand corner of his mouth. It was not unlike a cleft lip, only further away from his nose and more in the shape of a semi-circle rather than a corridor from one¡¯s mouth to one¡¯s nose. This abnormal lip made it so that the man¡¯s crooked teeth were always partially visible, even when he had closed his mouth. The man, who was slightly younger than Alexander, spent the entirety of the meeting playing with a pair of toy soldiers on the floor; careful to remain silent as the others worked out a deal.
¡°Boy!¡± Kramer snapped. Suddenly the young man, who had previously been hunched over, snapped his back upright as though an electrical current had just been sent through his body.
¡°Y-yes?¡± The young man said, struggling to get the words out of his mouth.
¡°Come here!¡± Kramer ordered. The boy quickly got up and walked to Kramer. Kramer then took the document and the quill and put them in front of the young man. As the young man got closer to Alexander more of his physical features became visible. He had a bruise around his right eye and he was abnormally short and thin, so much so that his skin clung to the bones in his face, giving him a somewhat skeleton-like appearance. He was so thin that Alexander couldn¡¯t help, but wonder if the man was malnourished.
¡°Sign this,¡± Kramer demanded as he put the quill into his hand. As he did this Alexander could see that there was a ring of purple bruises on the man¡¯s wrist. This was not unlike the injuries that could be found on the wrists of prisoners that were restrained with metal cuffs. Alexander had never received any formal training in the field of forensics or medicine, but it was clear to him exactly what was happening to this man, Philip, the reigning Kleinkastelburgish prince.
¡°What are you waiting for?¡± Kramer snapped as Prince Philip stood there in a state of fear and confusion. After a brief, but tense moment, Philip spoke up.
¡°...My daddy told me not to sign anything without having it read to me¡¡± the reigning prince replied while not making eye contact with Kramer. Kramer sighed.
¡°Your father isn¡¯t here anymore. Just sign it,¡± Kramer ordered. Philip continued to hesitate.
Kramer then leaned down while lifting Philip up by his ear. Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he spoke into Philip¡¯s ear
¡°If you don¡¯t do it then I¡¯ll make sure that your wife hears about this.¡±
Once Philip heard this he quickly scribbled his name at the bottom of the document. Alexander then began to sign his copy of the treaty. The two copies of the treaty were then swapped and signed again so that both copies had the signatures of the two parties involved. The documents then had the wax seals of both the Ostermanian Empire and the Principality of Kleinkastelburg placed on them. With that having been done, the Kleinkastelburgish delegation left the room with the intent of retiring to their guest house. As they were leaving Philip accidentally dropped one of his toy soldiers. Without thinking Alexander bent over, picked it up, and held it towards him; expecting him to take it. Philip stood there petrified as he stared at Alexander, who was holding the toy out in front of him. After a few seconds Philip grabbed the toy and quickly returned to the rest of the delegation like a frightened child.
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Alexander left the meeting room and walked through the palace to his study. As he walked a tall, muscular young man with blonde hair and a boyishly handsome face followed behind him closely. A large two-handed sword hung from the blonde-haired man¡¯s back. Neither man said anything until the door shut behind them as they entered Alexander¡¯s study. The study was only slightly less opulent than the room that Alexander met with the Kleinkastelburgish delegation in and a great deal smaller. It contained a large, ornate desk, a cushioned chair, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that contained many large books, most of which contained information on the empire¡¯s finances, laws, noble families, geography, and history.
¡°Is something bothering you, your highness?¡± The blonde-haired man asked. Alexander sighed.
¡°Siegfried3, I told you that you don¡¯t have to call me that when nobody else is around,¡± Alexander said to his bodyguard, Siegfried Lowe.
¡°My apologies, your highness¡¡± Siegfried blurted out moments before realizing what he had said and reflexively smacking the palm of his hand against his forehead.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, Alex. It¡¯s very hard to stop myself from doing that,¡± Siegfried apologized.
¡°It¡¯s okay, Siegfried¡¡± Alexander sighed as he slumped into his chair and began to sift through a small stack of documents on his desk. Eventually he gave up and just stared at an empty space on his desk.
¡°Did I do the right thing in there?¡± Alexander asked, still looking at that spot on his desk. A look of confusion appeared on Siegfried¡¯s face.
¡°What do you mean? Of course you did the right thing. You got a much better deal out of those vultures than anyone anticipated. I¡¯m sure your father will be very pleased when he returns from Peschtia,¡± He replied. The last part of Siegfried¡¯s statement was optimistic to a point nearing dishonesty, but Siegfried decided to include it in an attempt to make his master feel better. Alexander looked up to him, his face still bearing a tired and downtrodden expression.
¡°I mean with regards to the foreign prince,¡± Alexander replied.
¡°What about him?¡±
¡°Siegfried, that man was clearly being exploited by his ¡®advisors¡¯. You saw the marks on him just as clearly as I did.¡±
¡°And what difference does it make to you? You completed your task and did a great service to the empire,¡± Siegfried argued.
¡°But I did so while endorsing the abuse and exploitation of a mentally enfeebled young man by a gang of morally bankrupt goblins,¡± Alexander retorted. Siegfried sighed.
¡°Alex, you can only do so much with the resources at your disposal. And if you were to wake up tomorrow to news that your father had abdicated (or, God-forbid, died) and that you were the new emperor, what could you do? Invade Kleinkastelburg and overthrow its government? I mean you could, but would the political ramifications of such an action, as well as the cost in lives and gold, be worth it? Is the rendering of justice to a single mentally enfeebled young man worth all of that?¡± Seigfried argued. Alexander buried his head in his hands and sighed.
¡°I can¡¯t just ignore this¡¡± Alexander argued before getting broken off by his bodyguard.
¡°No, you can and you should. Your purpose is to eventually rule the empire and continue the von Adler line. You can¡¯t just go around trying to rescue every imbecile and inval¡¡± Siegfried said, stopping himself before he could finish the word ¡®invalid¡¯. Alexander stared at him with a look that was one part anger and five parts disappointment.
¡°...I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have gone there. She isn¡¯t relevant here and I shouldn¡¯t have brought her up. I apologize,¡± Siegfried said with a look of genuine shame on his face.
¡°It¡¯s okay, Siegfried. I know you didn¡¯t mean any harm,¡± Alexander replied. Alexander then got up and walked to a window that overlooked the palace grounds.
¡°This isn¡¯t just about imbeciles and invalids, Siegfried. I understand the position I¡¯ve been born into and I¡¯ve made my peace with it. My father will die one day and I will become emperor. I can¡¯t choose to keep the crown off my head, but I can choose what to do once I wear it,¡± Alexander explained.
¡°What do you mean?¡± Siegfried asked, prompting Alexander to turn back to his friend.
¡°I don¡¯t want to be the same sort of ruler that my father is. I want to rule an empire that isn¡¯t just powerful, but also a place where people want to live. I want to create a realm where honest people are proud to be my subjects, where the strong protect the weak instead of prey on them, where nobody is reduced to being nothing more than somebody else¡¯s tool. If I¡¯m going to build such an empire then there must be consistency between my beliefs and my actions. If I can¡¯t do that then anything I build will be constructed upon a foundation of hypocrisy and will be destined for failure. Am I not correct, Seigfried?¡± Alexander proclaimed.
¡°I don¡¯t know, Alex. It seems that you¡¯re being rather philosophical right now and, since I¡¯ve never heard of anyone using philosophy to kill another person, I can¡¯t say the subject is something I¡¯m very knowledgeable about,¡± Siegfried replied, causing the young prince to smirk. This was followed by an awkward pause in the conversation, which was only broken when Siegfried decided to speak up.
¡°But in all seriousness, I think your intentions are noble, but you can¡¯t let your ideals get in between you and ruling the empire.¡±
¡°Well, sounds like an excellent way to end up like my father¡ or von Steinmann...¡± Alexander quietly thought aloud while failing to notice that his tone changed from muttering to a low and quiet growl during the last three words of his sentence.
¡°No, that¡¯s not what I mean,¡± Siegfried shot back. ¡°All of your intentions will amount to nothing if you lack the ability to act on them. If you don¡¯t put the stability and prosperity of the empire first then you will never be able to change anything. It¡¯s like what my father said: On a battlefield, an enemy combatant who hates you with every fiber of his being, but is unarmed and untrained is much less of a threat than a well-armed and well-trained enemy who just wants to survive the battle.¡±
¡°So, my only choice is to tolerate these sorts of disgusting farces for the time being?¡± Alexander asked.
¡°I¡¯m afraid so, your highness,¡± Siegfried replied before wincing and smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand once again.
¡°Still, all of this should have never happened. Philip should have never been given the crown and Agrippina of all people should have never been married off to him. That would have been better for both of them...¡± Alexander lamented as a maid walked in with two cups of tea on a tray.
¡°Your tea is complete, your tallness,¡± Cili4, the maid announced. She was a rather short teenage girl with dark brown hair and brown eyes. She was a Peschtian and had trouble with the Alemanian language, but this was overlooked by the staff at the imperial palace thanks to her abnormally good work ethic and austere beauty. She had only started working at the imperial palace a few months ago.
¡°Thank you, Cili,¡± Alexander said as he took the two cups and handed one to Siegfired. It was at that moment that Alexander realized that he forgot something. He had no idea where his sister Agrippina was. He had expected her to be hanging around his meeting with Philip, but she was nowhere to be seen.
¡°Siegfried, did you happen to see Agrippina while we were walking to my study?¡± Alexander asked. Siegfried shook his head.
¡°Your tallness, I think I may have gazed this woman you seek,¡± Cili said. Alexander turned to her.¡±
¡°Oh. Where did you see her?¡± Alexander asked. Alexander continued this mentally by thinking ¡®I hope she isn¡¯t trying to ¡®borrow¡¯ from the treasury again¡¡¯
¡°I think she was near the old star-gazer tower, the one that Mrs. Brinkerhoff told me not to loiter near. I was told to take some food and wine and bring it to Eszti5, who was waiting for it at the foot of the tower,¡± Cili explained as a look of dread formed on Alexander¡¯s face. Without saying anything else, Alexander and Siegfried set down their tea cups and swiftly exited the room. The bewildered Cili could do nothing, but watch as the two young men made a beeline for the tallest tower in the palace.
Chapter 6
The view of K?nigsstadt and the imperial palace from the tower of Anshelm was absolutely breathtaking. From the top floor of the tower one could look down on the imperial capital like a god looking down on its creation. Built long ago by King Tiedemann so that his son Anshelm ¡®the cripple-prince¡¯ von Adler could more easily take part in his hobby of astronomy, the tower had been built up far past the rest of the imperial palace. The tower¡¯s most magnificent feature, other than its height, was its top floor, which consisted of a single octagonal room with four cantilevered balconies, each roughly five imperial paces by five imperial paces in area. It was topped by a domed ceiling and its walls were decorated with gold-flake stars that sat upon a faux sky of dark-blue paint. Sometime after the death of Anshelm the tower was abandoned by the prince¡¯s entourage of astronomers in favor of a taller and higher facility in the town of Oberberg, deep in the mountains to the south. Serving no functional purpose outside of astronomy, much of the tower remained unused by the house of Adler for some time, right up until it found a new admirer in the form of Anshelm¡¯s great niece, Princess Alexandra von Adler. The young princess saw the top floor of the tower as a sanctuary far from the affairs of the house of Adler and had it converted into a comfortable living space equipped with a number of bookshelves and soft chairs. Though the princess had never taken a liking to astronomy, she still felt as though she would have gotten along rather well with her great uncle, had he lived in her time. Over the course of her teenage years the tower would become her favorite hideaway. The time she spent there consisted of some of the happiest memories in her life. Unfortunately it would also be the site of one of her worst memories as well.
¡°Come on, we¡¯re almost there,¡± a tall, muscular young man with blonde hair and a boyishly handsome face said as he climbed up the stairs within the tower of Anshelm with a large burlap sack and a large two-handed sword slung over one shoulder and a young woman hanging on to the other.
¡°Sorry, about this¡¡± The woman replied in a voice that was barely above a murmur as the two of them entered the top floor of the tower. The man then set the girl¡¯s thin, skeleton-like body down on a cushioned chair as if he was moving a delicate and priceless porcelain doll.
¡°You don¡¯t have to¡ help me up, Eike¡ I would have made it¡ eventually¡¡± The young woman huffed out as she collapsed into the chair. The man smiled back at her.
¡°Oh it¡¯s no big deal,¡± He replied as he set the sword and the bag down and took a seat near her. The short girl had a sickly pale complexion and a face that was covered in freckles. She wore an elegant green dress and her bright orange hair was fashioned into a simple ponytail. A small emerald hung from her neck on a silver necklace. The emerald almost perfectly matched the color of her eyes.
¡°So¡ it¡¯s going to be another day in the tower, isn¡¯t it?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Yes. I even had Mrs. Brinkerhoff instruct Eszti to have our lunch delivered to us. I asked for the goulash again,¡± Alexandra explained while sifting through a pile of books.
¡°Oh¡¡± Ekkehardt mumbled with a concerned look on his face as he realized that the meal was meant to be eaten mostly by him. It was an unwritten rule that all food prepared by the palace¡¯s primary kitchen was to only be consumed by high ranking nobles while knights, barons, and commoners were only allowed to eat food prepared in secondary and tertiary kitchens. Everything that was prepared in this primary kitchen, even dishes that were typically eaten by commoners, was of a quality that was without parallel in the empire and perhaps even the continent. Alexandra often requested food that was officially for herself, but was often shared with Ekkehardt in the privacy of the tower¡¯s top floor. Ekkehardt appreciated the gesture, but found himself unable to avoid thinking about how this event fit into a disturbing trend he had noticed in Alexandra¡¯s behavior: In the past few weeks her appetite had started to wane. Every week Ekkehardt found himself eating just a little bit more than before. Wanting to clear his mind of this, Ekkehardt got up and opened a shutter to let some more light in. He then got to work cleaning up a corner of the room that had gotten rather untidy. It was rather menial work; a complete waste of talent for someone like Ekkehardt. The blonde-haired man fully understood this, but it never quite bothered him. He figured that the talents he had were better left wasted.
¡°Ekkehardt, I think that I would like to be absent during my father¡¯s birthday dinner next week. Do you think that you and Mrs. Brinkerhoff could arrange that?¡± Alexandra asked, not looking up from her book. Ekkehardt turned back to look at her.
¡°I don¡¯t know if we could do that. The only way you¡¯re going to be able to be absent from that dinner is if you have another¡ uh... ¡®episode¡¯ and if we were to fake such an event we would have to get Rasmussen¡¯s help with that,¡± Ekkehardt explained. Alexandra sighed.
¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right. Even if that did work I would still probably end up stuck in my room rather than here,¡± Alexandra added. Ekkehardt stopped what he was doing and looked directly at the princess.
¡°Alex, I¡¯m not going to pretend like I don¡¯t understand how things are between you, your father, and his court, but are you sure this sort of thinking is healthy?¡±
¡°What sort of thinking?¡± Alexandra responded, still not looking up at Ekkehardt.
¡°All you want to do is stay in the tower reading and drinking ale. I don¡¯t know much about literature, but I¡¯m pretty sure none of those books would describe a princess being locked up in a tower as a good thing,¡± Ekkehardt explained. Alexandra looked up from her book with a tired expression on her face.
¡°What good would spending time down there do?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Well, didn¡¯t Rasmussen tell you to get more sunlight and fresh air?¡±
¡°Eike, we both know that the goal of Rasmussen¡¯s advice is to extend my life, not to save it. As far as I¡¯m concerned a day spent reading and drinking ale in my tower is worth more than a century down there dealing with my father¡¯s court. Besides, spending time with them won¡¯t serve any purpose.¡±
¡°That¡¯s not true, Alex. As a princess of¡¡± Ekkehardt began only to be cut off.
¡°As a princess of the empire my purpose in life is to get married and bear children that carry von Adler blood and I can¡¯t do either of those things. I¡¯m completely useless, except as a tool for degenerates like von Steinmann to use to get closer to my father,¡± Alexandra lamented. Ekkehardt walked to the young princess.
¡°You shouldn¡¯t say things like that, Alex.¡±
¡°But, it¡¯s true and you know it. I had one job in society and I messed it up,¡± the princess snapped back.
¡°Now you¡¯re acting like your illness is your fault.¡±
¡°It might as well be my fault. Everyone except for you, your family, Alexander, and Mrs. Brinkerhoff treats me like that¡¯s the case.¡±
¡°Alex, I know¡¡± Ekkehardt began, only to get shot down once again as the princess cut him off and began to berate him.
¡°No, you don¡¯t. You¡¯ve never failed at anything in your entire life. I failed to do the one thing that was expected of me and thousands of people might die because of it! You...¡± Alexandra shouted before being cut off herself by a sudden spell of loud dry-coughing.
Without thinking, Ekkehardt produced a white handkerchief and pressed it against Alexandra¡¯s mouth while holding the back of one of her shoulders with his free hand. After a minute or so her coughing subsided and Ekkehardt removed the handkerchief from Alexandra¡¯s mouth, revealing a large blood-stain on the side that was exposed to the princess¡¯s mouth.
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¡°Oh, not again¡¡± Ekkehardt muttered as he then used the handkerchief to wipe a little bit of blood from a corner of Alexandra¡¯s mouth.
¡°I¡¯m sorry¡¡± Alexandra whispered as Ekkehardt attended to her as though she was a small child.
¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Ekkehardt said, ¡°Did any of the blood get on your clothes?¡±
¡°No, I think you got all of it, Eike,¡± Alexandra replied. Ekkehardt then got up and walked to a distant corner of the room where a basket of bloodstained white handkerchiefs sat atop a small table. Next to the basket was a short stack of neatly-folded clean white handkerchiefs. Ekkehardt proceeded to take one of these clean handkerchiefs and put it in his pocket.
¡°Eike¡¡± Alexandra called out as Ekkehardt inspected the handkerchief before putting it in his pocket.
¡°Yes,¡± He called back while turning around to face the princess.
¡°I shouldn¡¯t have yelled at you earlier. I¡¡±
¡°You don¡¯t need to apologize. I shouldn¡¯t have tried to get you to leave the tower,¡± Ekkehardt responded as he poured the princess a cup of ale and handed it to her. Alexandra then took a small sip from the cup.
Suddenly a knock came from the door.
¡°Who is?¡± Ekkehardt shouted.
¡°It¡¯s me! I brought her highness¡¯s meal!¡± the voice called from behind the door. Ekkehardt immediately recognized the voice and slowly opened the door while keeping one hand on the rondel dagger tucked away in the scabbard that hung on his belt. When the door was fully open and Ekkehardt was able to confirm the absence of any threat he found himself looking directly at Eszti Sz¨¦p1, a servant of the imperial family. Like Cili, she was a Peschtian, but her Alemanian was perfect, save for a thick accent. She was a bit taller than Alexandra and stood roughly at Ekkehardt¡¯s shoulder. Her wheat-colored hair was worn in a ponytail. She wore a simple brown dress that did little to mitigate the allure of her feminine figure. Ekkehardt proceeded to open the door fully and step out of her way while allowing the hand that clung to his dagger to rest.
¡°I hope your day is going well, your highness,¡± Eszti said with a natural cheerfulness to her voice as she set a tray down on the table in front of Alexandra. The tray contained a white porcelain bowl containing Peschtian goulash, a plate of sliced sour-dough bread, a plate containing both red and white sauerkraut, a small bowl of purple grapes, and a cup of red Strivalian wine. Even with her relatively weak sense of smell Princess Alexandra could smell the rich aroma of beef, tomatoes, and paprika emanating from the goulash.
¡°It¡¯s been fine, Eszti. Thank you for asking,¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°That¡¯s great to hear, your highness. Is there anything else I can do for you,¡± Eszti asked.
¡°No. You may leave us,¡± The princess replied. Eszti nodded her head respectively and began to leave the room only to stop suddenly as she neared Ekkehardt.
¡°Oh yes¡¡± Eszti said as she stopped in her tracks and turned to Ekkehardt to give him a sultry smile ¡°I just remembered something¡¡± At this point the two of them were at a distance where they could speak to each other without being heard by Alexandra, provided they were whispering. Eszti, underestimating the princesses¡¯ sense of hearing, decided to speak at a volume just a hair louder than a whisper.
¡°And that is?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Well¡¡± Eszti spoke as he began to play with her hair, ¡°I couldn¡¯t help, but notice that his majesty¡¯s birthday is approaching soon. I understand that you will be attending the festivities.¡±
¡°Yes I will, though I will be doing so in my capacity as her highness¡¯s personal guard,¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°Oh. That¡¯s understandable. Well, I would like to inform you that some of the servants and I are holding our own celebration after the more formal festivities have concluded. Stanislav told me that the imperial family tended to spend the night after the party alone and their personal guards were free to take the night off. I also heard that your cousin Ludwig2 would attend the servants¡¯ celebrations often before he left for Kleinkastelburg. I was wondering if you would be interested in accompanying me to them,¡± Eszti asked as she gave Ekkehardt a seductive smile. Despite this Ekkehardt¡¯s composure remained unchanged.
¡°I¡¯m afraid that I won¡¯t be able to attend any such gathering. Although we will not be required to be on duty that night, Siegfried, my father, and I will still be patrolling the area near the imperial family. We have very¡ different views on our duties than Ludwig,¡± Ekkehardt responded. Ekkehardt considered elaborating on his last point out of fear that his statement may be interpreted as a denigration of his cousin¡¯s character, but he figured that, one way or another, Eszti would learn that his words had less to do with Ludwig and more to do with the person he was sworn to protect. Eszti¡¯s smile melted away.
¡°Oh. Well, that¡¯s unfortunate¡¡± She said. Eszti then began to walk away and Ekkehardt slowly returned to the princess. Alexandra, who had overheard the entire exchange, couldn¡¯t help, but wonder why Ekkehardt had turned down Eszti¡¯s offer. Ekkehardt definitely could have taken that night off if he had wanted to. Alexandra stared blankly down at her food as she pondered this. As she ruminated on the matter her mind became filled with feelings of guilt. Was it her fault that Ekkehardt spent most of his time trapped with her in the tower of Anshelm? Was she the reason why he couldn¡¯t do things like attend parties with attractive young women? Had she become Ekkehardt¡¯s ball and chain?
¡°I hope you intend to eat at least some of that,¡± Ekkehardt said as he sat down next to her.
¡°Oh, yes¡¡± Alexandra blurted out as her mind returned to the present. She then took a small spoonful of goulash and slowly consumed it. After a few moments of struggle, she was finally able to chew the food and get it down her throat. The two of them sat together in silence as the princess ate roughly a third of the meal before handing it over to Ekkehardt, who began to eat it. After a few minutes of chewing in silence Ekkehardt had finished most of the meal. Then, after swallowing a spoonful of the goulash (mostly just gravy and small bits of vegetables) Ekkehard turned to Alexandra.
¡°Is something bothering you?¡± Ekkehardt asked before putting a forkful of sauerkraut into his mouth. After a brief, but tense silence Alexandra responded.
¡°Eike, I¡¯m not a burden to you, am I?¡± She asked.
¡°A burden? What would make you think that?¡± Ekkehardt replied.
¡°I overheard the conversation you had with Eszti,¡± She said. Ekkehardt¡¯s face remained unchanged, but within a feeling of mild apprehension spread throughout his body.
¡°Yeah? What about it?¡± He asked.
¡°The party the servants were throwing; you know that it wouldn¡¯t be a problem if you went, right?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°I¡¯m aware of that,¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°I see,¡± Alexandra said. She wasn¡¯t sure how to press onward. Ekkehardt then sighed.
¡°Alex, you do know that I¡¯m not interested in that sort of thing, right?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Upon hearing this a shock ran through Alexandra¡¯s body.
¡°You¡¯re not interested in¡ women¡¡± Alexandra blurted out in an unexpected panic. While this was generally considered taboo across the continent (and to a lesser extent in Osminite lands as well), Ekkehardt¡¯s brother Siegfried was occasionally the target of jokes that pertained to his sexuality due to how seriously he treated his duties as Alexander¡¯s personal guard, but Alexandra could never imagine Ekkehardt as a homosexual.
¡°...No, that¡¯s not what I meant,¡± Ekkehardt said with a confused look on his face, ¡°I just don¡¯t want to go to some party with Eszti, especially not after she framed the situation in the way that she did.¡±
¡°What do you mean by that?¡±
¡°You know exactly what I mean by that.¡±
¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Alexandra replied. Ekkehardt sighed.
¡°What I mean is that she was framing the situation as not just a party, but a party with a¡ a ¡®happy ending¡¯,¡± Ekkehardt explained as he struggled to find the right words.
¡°A happy ending?¡±
¡°I mean the sort of happy ending that you get with a man and a woman,¡± Ekkehardt explained as Alexandra¡¯s face began to turn red.
¡°Oh¡¡± She leaked out. There was a brief silence as she regained her composure.
¡°So, you¡¯re saying that you don¡¯t find Eszti attractive?¡±
¡°Well¡ no, that¡¯s not exactly the case¡ I just don¡¯t want to be with her in that capacity,¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°Oh¡¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°What does Eszti have to do with you being a burden anyways?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Alexandra sighed and looked down towards the floor.
¡°I¡ It¡¯s just that after the news about my health got out and my betrothal to Crown Prince Francesco was called off I couldn¡¯t help, but feel like I was just a burden to everyone; you in particular. If this had never happened to me and the two of us had the opportunity to go to Strettia3, then you wouldn¡¯t be stuck here with me. You would have had a chance to live your own life; find someone that you care about,¡± Alexandra lamented. Ekkehardt put his hand on the shoulder of the princess.
¡°Alex, I do¡¡± He began, only to be cut off by a voice coming from outside the room.
¡°Oh, Alexandra! Are you up there?¡± The voice called. Alex, instantly recognizing the voice, felt the blood leave her face and knot grow in her stomach. Ekkehardt, who also recognized the voice, quickly leapt away from Alexandra, grabbed his sword, and assumed a stiff, statue-like position standing some distance away from the princess. The young man was barely able to complete this sequence of actions before the door to the room slammed open to reveal Agrippina von Adler, the elder sister of Alexandra. It was at that exact moment it dawned on Alexandra, that her day was going to be anything, but peaceful.
Chapter 7
Agrippina von Adler was somewhat similar to Alexandra in appearance. She was considerably taller than her younger sister and her body appeared to be far more femmine as opposed to Alexandra¡¯s thin and nearly emaciated form. Furthermore her complexion was less pale than her sister¡¯s and possessed a sort of youthful glow instead of a sickly paleness. She wore her coppery hair up in a sophisticated bun that was adorned with three emeralds. Around her forehead she wore a gold diadem that contained a large emerald in its center and a large medallion encrusted with emeralds hung around her neck. Like her sister she also wore a green dress, though hers was embroidered with a number of elaborate gold patterns.
Perhaps the most striking differences between Alexandra and Agrippina was in the region of their face between their noses and their foreheads. The upper left-hand side of Agrripina¡¯s face possessed a small, almost unnoticeable vertical scar towards its outer edge. This scar was roughly half the length of a finger-nail and disrupted the flow of her left eyebrow. Then there were her eyes. The difference here was something that neither Alexandra or Ekkehardt could explain easily. Her irises shared the same emerald-green hue of Alexander¡¯s and Alexandra¡¯s eyes, but there was something else to them that just made them different. When Alexandra looked into her sister¡¯s eyes she didn¡¯t feel the same sort of warmth and comfort that she got when looking into Alexander¡¯s eyes. Rather, she felt a cold emptiness. To Alexandra, looking into her sister¡¯s eyes was like looking into a dark abyss.
¡°Hello, sister¡¡± Alexandra said weakly. Ekkehardt saluted Agrippina, but remained silent. Agrippina did not acknowledge Ekkehardt in any way.
¡°How is my favorite little sister doing?¡± Agrippina asked, either forgetting or conveniently avoiding the fact that Alexandra was her only younger sister. She then sat down on a chair across from Alexandra. Behind her was a tall, muscular man with dirty blonde hair. The man had brown eyes, underneath which hung semi-circular regions of dark and puffy flesh. His skin was a shade paler than that of Ekkehardt. The man hung around the edge of the room, not maintaining the same disciplined stance that Ekkehardt had, but still prepared to draw the large two-handed sword that hung from his back and fight with it, should the situation require him to do so. With a blank expression on his face, he briefly turned his gaze to Ekkehardt. The two locked eyes, but only for a moment. In that one moment both men acknowledged each other¡¯s existence. It was brief, it was cold, and it was distant, but, in the context they had found themselves in, it was the only way for Ekkehardt to greet his cousin, Ludwig Lowe.
¡°I am well. How about you? I thought you were still in Kleinkastelburg and that I wasn¡¯t going to see you again until Alexander¡¯s birthday,¡± Alexandra replied. Agrippina appeared confused.
¡°Oh, no. Originally that imbecile and his handlers were to come without me, but I decided to have those plans changed at the last minute.¡±
¡°I see...¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°That the information must have simply not filtered through to you. I guess that¡¯s just how it is these days when you¡¯re dealing with people within the imperial palace who are of¡ tertiary importance¡¡± Agrippina said with a wide smile on her face.
¡°Oh¡¡± Alexandra responded. She turned her gaze downward as a sad look began to form on her face.
¡°Anyways sister, how have things been since your¡ falling out with Francesco? I haven¡¯t heard of any new marriage prospects, but it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if this was something that was kept between father, Alexander, and you,¡± Agrippina asked as she propped her feet up upon a book that was on the table in front of her. Alexandra watched as mud from Agrippina¡¯s shoes got on the cover of her book, a history of the second Reman civil war.
¡°...no, I¡¯m afraid not¡¡± Alexandra admitted.
¡°Oh. How unfortunate. Have you simply been wasting away here for all this time?¡± Agrippina asked.
¡°...yes¡¡± Alexandra leaked out.
¡°I see. In that case how do you feel about being relocated to Kleinkastelburg? I¡¯m trying to¡ make the powers that be in that region more¡ sympathetic to the empire and our goals. I think that you could be useful there¡¡± Agrippina explained as she looked her sister in the eye.
¡°I don¡¯t understand what you mean¡¡± Alexandra began, only for Agrippina to cut her off.
¡°¡®Useful¡¯, Alexandra. It means to be serviceable for an end or purpose. I know the word is rather foreign to your day-to-day life, but I assumed all the time you wasted reading would help you understand it,¡± Agrippina hissed.
¡°I¡¡± Alexandra began, only to be cut off by Agrippina once again.
¡°Now, allow me to explain: I¡¯m trying really hard to expand my - I mean our influence in Kleinkastelburg and its surrounding area, and I¡¯ve found an excellent opportunity to do so. Last month I had the¡ pleasure of meeting a Cimbristani baron, a middle-aged widower with a fief near the Confederation. We don¡¯t have any family members in the Cimbristani royal court, so our knowledge of what happens there is rather limited. I reasoned that introducing you to him would help us gain the man¡¯s favor,¡± Agrippina explained.
¡°A middle-aged baron?¡± Alexandra responded. She spoke gingerly, as though she was trapped in a cage with a large carnivorous animal. ¡°I don¡¯t feel comfortable marrying a man that much older than me, especially one that I don¡¯t even know. Also wouldn¡¯t it be bad for our family¡¯s reputation in the long term if a member of the royalty married a baron? I don¡¯t know¡¡± Alexandra said before getting cut off.
¡°You don¡¯t know anything, because you¡¯re a spoiled brat! I wasn¡¯t talking about marriage, we just need for someone to be that fossilized degenerate¡¯s plaything. He prefers his partners to be more on the¡ prepubescent side, so I think that a flat-chested little gremlin such as yourself would be perfect for the job,¡± Agrippina explained. As soon as Alexandra realized what her sister was saying a burning feeling emerged within the bottom of her throat. She had to fight the urge to vomit what little food she had just eaten. By some small miracle, Alexandra was able to keep herself from throwing up, but not without the unpleasant and acidic taste of her own vomit falling upon her tongue first. As the young woman processed what her sister had just said she went through multiple waves of denial, fear, anger, disgust, and hopelessness. She wanted to ask Agrippina if what she had just said was a joke, but she found herself unable to string together a coherent sentence.
¡°I plan to run this by father soon. I¡¯m rather confident that he will agree with me completely, considering our current lack of influence in Cimbristan1 and the fact that gaining access to the baron will be helpful if the grand duke of Zollernia-Hohenia2 decides to start trouble in the Confederation. Alexander will probably attempt to stop this, but this time, unlike the incident with von Steinmann, this will help the empire expand its influence,¡± Agrippina explained. Finally Alexandra was able to speak up.
¡°Agrippina, the way you are describing this man, I don¡¯t think I want anything to do with him, especially in¡ in that capacity...¡± She said. As she spoke she felt her body go numb. She felt as though a bottomless hole had grown in the pit of her stomach and part of her had fallen in.
¡°I don¡¯t really care what you think about this,¡± Agrippina said with a wide grin on her face, ¡°I only came here to tell you this, because I¡¯m bored and I thought it would be funny,¡± She then started giggling before breaking out into a long and intense laugh. Eventually her laughter died down. She then began to speak again.
¡°You should be grateful that I¡¯m giving you a chance to actually help father for once. It¡¯s the least you could do after getting his wife killed,¡± Agrippina said, careful not to leave any wound unsalted or knife untwisted. Upon hearing this, Alexandra¡¯s face began to redden.
¡°I didn¡¯t¡¡± Alexandra began, only to get cut off by her sister.
¡°Oh not this again. I don¡¯t need to be a medical genius like Rasmussen to know that mother would still be alive if she didn¡¯t have to queef out the disgusting after-birth that grew up to be you,¡± Agrippina said as she glared at Alexandra. It was at this point that Alexandra began to edge closer and closer to the brink of crying. Her sister made absolutely no attempt to hide the fact that this was amusing to her.
¡°Anyways, all of this talking has left me parched. Do you have anything to drink here?¡± Agrippina asked.
¡°Yes... there is some wine over there¡¡± Alexandra whimpered, hoping that her cooperation would retard the torrent of abuse her sister was raining down upon her.
¡°Excellent,¡± Agrippina responded before turning to Ekkehardt, who up until this point, had remained completely unmoving and emotionless; much like a statue.
¡°Get me some of that wine, boy!¡± Agrippina barked. At that moment something in Alexandra snapped. For some reason, all of the fear, disgust, and shame that had accumulated inside of her ignited into anger. Before Ekkehardt could fulfill her order Alexandra spoke up.
¡°He doesn¡¯t take orders from you!¡± Alexandra snapped as she used what little strength she had to stand up and curl her right hand into a fist. Agrippina¡¯s face remained expressionless.
¡°Excuse me?¡± She asked, sounding more confused than anything else.
¡°I¡ I said that he doesn¡¯t take orders from you! If you want some wine then you¡¯re going to have to either order Ludwig to do it or ask me!¡± Alexandra exclaimed. For a moment there was a tense silence in the room as the two sisters locked eyes. Then, all of the sudden, Agrippina broke into laughter.
¡°Oh my, this is absolutely hilarious¡¡± She said as her laughter died down, ¡°You and your brother have such a strange relationship with your guard dogs¡¡±
¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s very kind or wise of you to refer to the people who keep us safe as ¡®dogs¡¯, Agrippina.¡±
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
¡°And I don¡¯t think it¡¯s very wise for you to be an angry little bitch, yet here we are. Now I swear to God, one of you little shits is going to get me my wine or else I¡¯ll make sure that your guard dog is chopping wood in Nordfell by the end of the year. I¡¯ve gotten rid of one of your pets before and I¡¯m more than capable of doing it again,¡± Agrippina ordered. It was at this point Agrippina noticed that Ludwig, her bodyguard, had moved all the way to the table the wine bottle was on without drawing much attention to himself.
¡°I don¡¯t remember giving you an order, Ludwig¡¡± Agrippina warned. Ludwig immediately retreated away from the wine without any further instruction.
¡°I swear, Agrippina, if you call me a ¡®bitch¡¯ one more time I¡¯ll¡¡±
¡°You¡¯ll do what? Call Alexander and his little sausage-stuffer of a guard dog? I bet you can¡¯t even get to Alexander without assistance, you disgusting little cripple,¡± Agrippina retorted.
¡°That¡¯s it! Get out of my tower!¡± Alexandra screamed as she pointed at her sister. Agrippina only laughed.
¡°Woah, I¡¯m¡¡± Agrippina began, only to be cut off by Alexandra.
¡°No! Shut up! Get out of my tower you vicious cunt!¡± Alexandra screamed.
¡°What did you just say?¡±
¡°I said to get out of my tower right now! I¡¯m tired of your deranged bullshit and I want you out of my life, you evil whore!¡± Alexandra screamed. At that point everything began to move more quickly than Alexandra was capable of reacting to. Agrippina lunged at, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her onto a balcony. Ekkehardt reached for his sword, but felt the cold edge of Ludwig¡¯s large two-handed sword against the side of his neck just as his hand was a mere hair¡¯s width from his sword.
¡°Sorry, Ekkehardt¡¡± Ludwig mumbled. Ekkehardt could do nothing, but watch the events that were about to unfold in front of him.
¡°What did you just call me?¡± Agrippina growled as she stared into her sister¡¯s eyes.
¡°I¡ I called you an evil whore, because that¡¯s... what you are¡¡± Alexandra proclaimed, barely able to speak with her sister¡¯s hand around her throat. Agrippina then pushed Alexandra up against the edge of the balcony with so much force that the wooden handrail, weakened from so many years of neglect, began to deform and snap. She then grabbed the collar of Alexandra¡¯s dress with her left hand.
The next thing Alexandra knew, the vision in her right eye was blurry, and there was a throbbing pain on the right side of her face, and her body felt as though it was being suspended in space. When her vision returned to normal the first thing she saw was her left shoulder and the ground several dozen imperial paces below her. Alexandra would later be told that Agrippina had punched her three times. Immediately upon realizing that she was being dangled several stories above the ground Alexandra let out a meek whimper. As soon as Alexandra was able to regain her senses she turned her head forward so she could see the architect of her peril. Alexandra saw Agrippina standing on the balcony in front of her, holding the collar of her dress with her outstretched left hand as she looked at her victim with a cold fire in her eyes. Agrippina began to audibly breath through her mouth as her face contorted to display a disturbing expression of ferocity. Then, with her free hand, Agrippina reached for a small leather scabbard that was hidden under the sleeve of the arm she was using to hold Alexandra. From that scabbard she produced a small object that appeared to be a knife handle. She then pressed a button on this object, which caused a spring-loaded blade to swing out of its side and lock into a forward position, effectively transforming the object into a small knife. She then held the knife up against Alexandra¡¯s throat, putting her in a perfect position to sever both of the young princess¡¯s carotid arteries in one swift motion.
¡°You take that back. Take that back right fucking now!¡± Agrippina snarled. At this point Alexandra began to hyperventilate
¡°A¡ Agr¡¡± Alexandra stammered out as she felt a warm fluid run down her leg.
¡°You have five seconds,¡± Agrippina growled.
¡°Agr¡ Agrippina, pluh¡¡±
¡°Five!¡±
¡°Please don¡¯t¡¡±
¡°Four!¡±
Suddenly, a blade appeared out of nowhere from behind Agrippina and gently touched the side of her neck.
¡°That¡¯s enough, Agrippina. Let her go,¡± A calm, but stern male voice said from behind her. Agrippina turned around to see her brother, Alexander von Adler, holding a sword to her neck. Behind him she saw Ekkehardt standing beside him and a stealthily disarmed Ludwig being guarded by Siegfried, who had also managed to tie Ludwig¡¯s hands together with a length of rope. Upon seeing him a look of disgust filled Agrippina¡¯s face.
¡°Oh, Alexander. What a pleasure seeing you today,¡± Agrippina said in a mocking tone.
¡°I¡¯m not asking you, Agrippina. Let her go,¡± Alexander repeated. Agrippina stood there for a moment and thought about how literally she was going to interpret her brother¡¯s order. Eventually, she made her decision.
¡°Fine,¡± She said as she tossed Alexandra back into the tower. She then pressed the blade of her spring-loaded knife back into its handle and returned it to the hidden scabbard on her wrist. The young girl collapsed into Ekkehardt¡¯s body as tears and snot began to run down her face. She then wrapped her arms around Ekkehardt and squeezed him with what little force her body possessed. Ekkehardt hugged her back. As soon as Alexandra was safe, two additional soldiers entered the room and took over the guarding of Ludwig from Siegfried.
¡°What the hell were you doing?¡± Prince Alexander asked Agrippina. Agrippina rolled her eyes.
¡°Oh, it was just a little joke, my dear brother. Nothing to get worried about here,¡± The princess of Kleinkastelburg replied as she smiled a wide, toothy smile at her brother. She then turned to her sister. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right Alexandra?¡± She asked as she moved to pat Alexandra on the head. This, however, was made impossible due to Alexandra repositioning herself behind Ekkehardt.
¡°Don¡¯t you dare put another finger on her!¡± Alexander snapped.
¡°Oh come on Alexander, it¡¯s not like that little brat is going to live for much longer anyway, even¡¡±
¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Alexander shouted, cutting Agrippina off in the process, ¡°Under the authority granted to me by Emperor Alexander von Adler the first of Ostermania, I order you to be detained in accordance with the treaty of Clerl¨ºme3!¡± Alexander decreed.
¡°What?¡± Agrippina spat back as a look of genuine confusion spread across her face. This feeling of confusion was shared by Ekkehardt, Ludwig, and Siegfried, though all of them remained silent. Alexandra was still far too shaken to have an opinion on Alexander¡¯s words.
¡°Section three of the treaty of Clerl¨ºme (which both the empire and the principality of Kleinkastelburg are signatories to) forbids the molestation of any noble man or woman of a host country by a foreign emissary and permits the detention of the foreign emissary at the discretion of the host country. As acting head of state of the Ostermanian Empire, I order you, Agrippina von Adler of Kleinkastelburg, to be detained under the treaty of Clerl¨ºme!¡± Alexander shouted as he pointed his finger at Agrippina. He then turned to Siegfried.
¡°Siegfried, please relieve Agrippina of any of her weapons and escort her to the dungeon,¡± Alexander requested without a hint of emotion. Siegfried found the order quite worrying, but understood that Alexander was not in a state where questioning his orders would be productive. Thus, he moved closer to Agrippina.
¡°Alexander I swear, if you allow your pet faggot to lay a single finger¡¡± Agrippina protested only to be cut off by Alexander.
¡°Siegfried, please acquaint Agrippina¡¯s face with the back of your hand,¡± Alexander ordered. A loud slap echoed throughout the room as flesh connected with flesh. Agrippina maintained a defiant glare at her brother as the skin on the right side of her face reddened.
¡°I swear, I¡¯ll make you regret this, Alexander,¡± Agrippina warned. Alexander dismissed her, and then ordered Siegfried to begin disarming and detaining her. Siegfried immediately removed Agrippina¡¯s spring-loaded knife from her wrist scabbard before patting her down like a common criminal. He started from her shoulders and moved down, eventually finding a metallic object attached to her right leg. Agrippina sighed and lifted her dress to reveal a silver stiletto dagger housed in a leather garter scabbard.
¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with,¡± Agrippina groaned. Siegfried quickly retrieved the blade and examined it. It had a long thin blade that ended in a needle-like point. The cross-guard consisted of two straight pieces of metal that sat in front of the handle, giving the weapon the shape of a lowercase ¡®t¡¯. The handle was bare metal, but the material was shaped in a way that was both aesthetically pleasing and very easy to grip. Although it was very faint, Siegfried could just barely detect the smell of belladonna flower extract.
¡®Yeah, that feels like something she would do.¡¯ Siegfried thought to himself before letting out a sigh. He then turned to the guards.
¡°Careful, it¡¯s poisoned,¡± He warned as he held the dagger out to them. The guard nodded. He then handed the dagger to one of the two guards, who carefully slipped it into a space between his belt and the small of his back. Siegfried then concluded his search without finding any more weapons. Alexander then turned to the guards.
¡°Take both of them to the dungeon, but tell Kedvesh4 not to lay a finger on them. I forbid you from leaving their side until he understands this,¡± Alexander ordered, making sure that the second part of his command was understood as to not leave Ludwig and his sister at the mercy of the imperial torturer. The two guards then grabbed Agrippina and Ludwig and began to lead them away. Ludwig remained emotion-less while Agrippina began to explode.
¡°Alexander, I order you to get these apes off me!¡± Agrippina shrieked.
¡°You can¡¯t give me orders,¡± Alexander replied calmly. Unfortunately, this did little to silence his sister¡¯s protests.
¡°You can¡¯t throw me in there like some piece of trash!¡± She screeched. At this point she had completely lost control of her composure. Her face had contorted into a disturbing grimace as her face began to redden. In an act of resistance she attempted to physically resist the guard escorting her, though the immense difference of strength between the two of them made this a rather futile act.
¡°I can, I should, and I just did,¡± Alexander responded, maintaining his calm demeanor.
¡°Father will know about this!¡±
¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Alexander said. Agrippina replied with a long incoherent screech as she struggled against the guard. Then a bright flash erupted from Agrippina¡¯s medallion. A sickly-green figure emerged from the flash. Although it was only visible for a few seconds, Alexandra was able to make out some basic features of the entity: that it was incorporeal, translucent, and that it possessed a head, arms, and torso that resembled an emaciated old man. The lower half of its body was a sort of tail that resembled a plume of smoke. A few moments after appearing it attacked Alexander, flying towards his body, and disappearing into him. The young crown prince immediately fell onto the floor and began convulsing as his eyes rolled back in his head and a white foam emerged from his mouth.
¡°Your Highness!¡± Siegfried shouted as he immediately got on his knees and tried to restrain Alexander. Agrippina¡¯s demeanor had completely changed. In a few short moments her rage had been completely replaced by terror.
¡°This isn¡¯t what he said would happen. This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen,¡± She muttered to herself as she stared at Alexander. The guards abandoned Agrippina and Ludwig to attend to Alexander. Ludwig (who still had his hands tied together) immediately bolted towards Agrippina.
¡°Hey! We have to leave now!¡± Ludwig barked at Agrippina, who was still in a state of shock.
¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to be like this¡¡± Agrippina muttered to herself. Unfortunately for Ludwig, his actions did not go unnoticed as the attention of Siegfried and the two guards shifted from Alexander to him.
¡°Hey, you stay right there!¡± One of the guards ordered.
¡°Goddammit¡¡± Ludwig cursed. He then placed himself in between Agrippina and the two guards and raised his bound hands up as though he was prepared to fight with them. Siegfried and the guards rose up and drew their weapons. In all of this confusion nobody noticed that Alexander had stopped convulsing. Nobody in the room noticed as he (while still in a supine position) curled his legs up towards his shoulders and positioned his hands on the floor above his head with his palms on the ground. Slowly he shifted his weight towards his upper body until the small of his back was suspended above the ground. Then in one swift motion he rocked his body forward, propelling himself onto his feet right behind Siegfried and the guards. Before anyone could react he snatched Agrippina¡¯s stiletto dagger from one of the guards and, while holding the weapon in an ice pick style, plunged into the man¡¯s neck. The guard tried to call out his partner¡¯s name, but all that came out of his mouth was the syllable ¡®vuh¡¯. Siegfried and the remaining guard watched in horror as their comrade fell to the ground. Behind the corpse they saw Prince Alexander with Agrippina¡¯s stiletto dagger in his hand. Both the dagger and the hand holding it were covered in blood. Alexander¡¯s face was calm and expressionless and his eyes were closed. A nightmare had just begun.
Chapter 8
Alexander leaped backwards, flipping once through the air before landing on a table.
¡°Your highness¡¡± Siegfried asked, unable to put his feelings into words. Alexander then smiled a disturbingly wide and unnatural smile before laughing. When he opened his eyes everyone in the room could see that his pupils had rolled back in his head. The remaining guard, a man named K?hler1, was about to ask Siegfried how they should proceed when Alexander quickly threw Agrippina¡¯s dagger at him, grazing the side of his torso and drawing blood. Alexander then drew his sword and lunged at Siegfried, who was only barely able to parry the attack. He then began to pummel Siegfried with one lightning-fast strike after another. Siegfried attempted to back away while parrying every attack Alexander threw at him. The room was quickly filled with the sound of metal striking metal as Alexander attacked and Siegfired parried. Siegfried, who was a skilled swordsman, was completely on the defensive, but this had nothing to do with his desire to not hurt Alexander. No, this was simply due to the fact that the speed of Alexander¡¯s attacks made it impossible for him to do anything, but dodge or parry Alexander¡¯s attacks; he couldn¡¯t do anything to hurt Alexander even if he wanted to.
As this fight was taking place, Ludwig took the initiative. He grabbed Agrippina¡¯s arm and led her to the room¡¯s entrance before kicking the door open and throwing Agrippina outside.
¡°Run!¡± He shouted. Agrippina somehow regained control of her body and began to hurry down the spiral staircase that led to the base of the tower.
At this point Ekkehardt decided to intervene. He could see that Siegfried was getting backed up against a wall, Ludwig was still bound, unarmed, and possessing questionable loyalties, and K?hler was both injured and far out of his league. In one quick motion he drew his two-handed sword and threw it up in the air before catching it by the blade as it came down. Then, while holding the sword by the blade with the handle facing away from him, Ekkehardt moved behind Alexander and prepared to strike him in the back of the head with a mordhau2. He swung his sword through the air only for it to be stopped mid swing by cold hard iron. It took a moment for Ekkehardt to realize what had just happened, but when he did, he was completely taken aback. The blade of Alexander¡¯s sword, which was raised above and behind his head, caught the handguard of Ekkehardt¡¯s sword; Alexander had blocked his attack without even turning to face him. Ekkehardt lost his grip on the sword¡¯s blade and it was tossed up into the air before landing a few imperial paces away from the fight.
At that point Ekkehart¡¯s muscle memory took over as he drew his rondel3 dagger and held it in an ice pick grip, but it was all a futile effort. Before Ekkehardt was able to act Alexander spun around with a turning kick, knocking Ekkehardt to the ground and Siegfried against the wall in one stroke. Ekkehardt lost his grip on his dagger, which was caught by Alexander before the weapon or its owner hit the floor. Alexander then turned around once again to strike Siegfried, this time with Ekkehardt¡¯s dagger in one hand and his sword in the other. Siegfried had regained his composure just fast enough to attempt to parry Alexander¡¯s sword, but was completely unaware of his second weapon. Alexandra screamed as Alexander plunged the dagger into Siegfried¡¯s right eye. Siegfried fell to the ground as Alexander turned to Ekkehardt, leaving the dagger lodged in Siegfried¡¯s right eye socket. Ekkehardt, still on his rear, tried to back away from Alexander and towards his sword, but he simply wasn¡¯t moving fast enough.
It was at this point K?hler regained enough of his strength and confidence to make a move. He quickly took up a position in between Ekkehardt and Alexander. His stance was far less organized than what was expected of a palace guard. His body swayed from side to side and his sword shook in his hand as Alexander approached him. When the two came to blows Alexander simply swiped his sword in one effortless motion, cutting a long gash across K?hler¡¯s torso before the guard fell to the floor, writhing in pain. He then proceeded forward towards Ekkehardt.
Alexandra could only watch in horror as her brother stood over Ekkehardt, who at this point was less than half an imperial pace away from his weapon. Alexander, with his eyes rolled back in his skull, smiled as he raised his sword and prepared to cut Ekkehardt down. Then, out of nowhere, a bottle of wine flew through the air and smashed into the side of Alexander¡¯s head. At first his reaction was non-existent, akin to what would have happened if someone had thrown a bottle of wine at a statue, but after a brief moment he turned his head to see the man who had attacked him, Ludwig. Somehow he had freed himself from his restraints and recovered his two-handed sword. Without any hesitation he then lunged himself towards Alexander. The sound of metal striking metal filled the room as Ludwig and Alexander fought each other with an extreme ferocity. Their swords became gray blurs as a blisteringly fast dance of death played out. Wasting no time, Ekkehardt retrieved his weapon, got on his feet and jumped back into the fight. The two cousins fought together as though they were communicating telepathically; each one incorporating the actions of the other to distract or out-maneuver their opponent, but nothing they did could hurt Alexander, who moved effortlessly, parried or dodged everything they threw at him.
All of the sudden the fight turned in Alexander¡¯s favor as his blade found itself running diagonally up Ludwig¡¯s chest, leaving a long red gash. Ludwig reflexively stepped back as he recoiled in pain. With Ludwig (at least temporarily) disabled Alexander was able to completely shift his focus onto Ekkehardt. Within a few short moments Ekkehardt was in the same position as Siegfried when the fighting began: rapidly losing ground and fighting completely defensively. Eventually Alexander tricked him with a feint, allowing him to make an upward jab at Ekkehardt¡¯s throat with the pommel of his sword. Ekkehardt staggered backward before tripping on a table. Alexander moved in for a killing blow only to suddenly turn around to parry an attack from Ludwig, blocking it at the last second. Before Ludwig could strike again Alexander took the initiative and plunged his sword deep into Ludwig¡¯s chest. The gray metal of the blade disappeared into Ludwig¡¯s center of mass before erupting from his back, dripping with dark red blood.
Ludwig dropped his sword and grabbed onto Alexander¡¯s shoulders before coughing up blood.
¡°...Hey! I got something to say to Alexander; the real one¡¡± Ludwig said. Just by listening to him Alexandra and Ekkehardt could tell that he was nearly spent. Alexander (who¡¯s eyes were still turned around inside his head) tilted his head as he leaned closer to Ludwig, as if he was curious to hear what he had to say. Ludwig coughed up another mouthful of blood before speaking again.
¡°I¡ I always hated you, you obtuse, self-righteous twink...¡± He said before producing Agrripina¡¯s spring-loaded knife from his sleeve. He then pressed the button on the weapon¡¯s handle, causing the blade to swing out. Before Alexander could react Ludwig stabbed him in the neck with all of the strength left in his body.
Ludwig probably would have had one final moment of peace knowing that he had seen his last fight through to its conclusion, but any sense of peace he had was shattered when he saw that Agrippina¡¯s knife was unable to penetrate Alexander¡¯s skin.
¡°Yuh¡ you can¡¯t be like him¡¡± Ludwig muttered. Alexander laughed before letting go of his sword and kicked Ludwig down on the floor, where he died a few moments later. He then picked up Ludwig¡¯s two-handed sword and, while holding the weapon with one hand, approached Ekkehardt, who had just managed to get back on his feet.
Ekkehardt breathed heavily as he tried to take up a defensive stance. His mind flashed through his many years of training, trying to find a technique that had not yet been tried or trick that had not yet been seen through, but it was all futile. His failure to think of his next move caused him to consider another question: if he should even try to defeat Alexander or simply delay his own defeat long enough for help to arrive? He knew that his sense of time had been distorted by the frenzy of combat, so it was difficult to estimate when help would arrive; if it would come at all. At that moment his heart sank as he realized the only conduit through which anyone in the palace could be alerted to Alexander¡¯s condition was Agrippina. Nobody was coming. Once Ekkehardt had made that revelation, it became apparent to him that there was only one course of action.
Ekkehardt charged at Alexander with reckless abandon. His elegant and well-rehearsed movements were abandoned in favor of maximizing speed and violence. The sound of metal hitting metal filled the room as Ekkehardt attempted to burn as hot and as bright as possible, even if it meant he would only hasten his extinguishing. Ekkehardt unleashed a barrage of sword strikes upon the mad prince only for them to be blocked one after another.
Suddenly, a loud bang filled the room as Ekkehardt¡¯s sword cut straight through the blade of Alexander¡¯s sword, roughly one-tenth of an imperial pace away from the hilt. The blade hit the floor with a loud ¡®clack¡¯. Ekkehardt swung again, but was just barely parried by what remained of Alexander¡¯s broken sword. As the two swords (or, to put it more accurately, one and one fourth of a sword) locked
Alexander then used his free hand to deliver an upper-cut to Ekkehardt¡¯s gut. The force of the impact knocked him off of his feet and launched him one or two imperial paces through the air before he collided with a bookshelf. The individual shelves broke as Ekkehardt hit them, leaving the young knight half-buried in a pile of books and wood fragments. Alexander then proceeded to pull his original sword (the one he had walked into the tower with) out of Ludwig¡¯s body, drop his broken sword, and start walking towards Ekkehardt.
Suddenly a meek voice broke through the silence.
¡°Alexander¡ Please stop this. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening, just please don¡¯t hurt anyone else¡¡± Alexandra begged. Alexander turned to her, but remained expressionless. She then moved into the space between Alexander and Ekkehardt.
¡°Alex!¡± Ekkehardt gasped, only to be ignored.
¡°Please put down your sword. If you stop this then Ekkehardt and I will be able to help you. We want to help you,¡± Alexandra pleaded. Suddenly one of Alexander¡¯s arms went limp, causing him to drop his sword to the floor. Alexander then hung his head down. Ekkehardt audibly exhaled.
¡°Thank you, brother. I love¡¡± Alexandra began, only to be interrupted when Alexander¡¯s head snapped back up and unleashed a bone-chilling hiss. He then lunged at Alexandra, grabbed her neck with both of his hands and lifted her up above the ground. The sides of Alexandra¡¯s vision began to grow dark as she saw a twisted smile form on Alexander¡¯s face. She attempted to claw at Alexander¡¯s hands with her fingernails, but it was no use; it was like trying to dig her nails into an iron plate. A few moments later what little strength Alexandra had faded from her body.
¡®I¡¯m going to die here¡¡¯ she thought. If the circumstances were any different she might have thought about how unexpected all of this was; how she was being murdered by the most gentle and benevolent person she knew, but she lacked the time and the energy to even think of that. With all means of resistance exhausted, she closed her eyes and braced herself for whatever sensations death may inflict upon her only to feel the pressure be released from her neck and a sharp pain in her rear. When she opened her eyes she saw Alexander clutching the side of his head as he staggered backwards and Siegfried, who was standing between them, holding his sword by its blade. Though Alexandra was too shaken to piece together at the moment, she would later learn that Siegfried, who was still alive, had taken the opportunity to strike Alexander on the head with the pommel of his sword, the same technique that Ekkehardt had tried much earlier.
Alexander quickly recovered and lunged at Siegfried, who was just fast enough to dodge him. Alexander stumbled towards the area where the fallen K?hler lay face down in the prone position. As Alexander hurdled towards him K?hler sprung to life and slashed at the mad prince¡¯s ankles with his baselard4 dagger. K?hler¡¯s blade barely grazed the side of Alexander¡¯s ankle, causing him to reflexively kick K?hler¡¯s face repeatedly with an infantile rage while letting out an inhuman and blood curdling scream that forced Alexandra to cover her ears as she winced in discomfort.
Siegfried, still holding his sword by its blade, rushed towards Alexander as he prepared for another attack, but before could act Alexander grabbed the sword of the guard he had slain at the beginning of the fight, ran to the balcony, climbed onto the railing, and then jumped onto the roof of the tower. After taking a moment to process what had happened, Alexandra moved towards Ekkehardt as quickly as her body was capable of.
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¡°Ekkehardt!¡± She shouted as she moved to Ekkehardt and began to dig him out of the debris.
¡°...alive¡ Check the guard¡¡± the dazed knight responded as he began to get out of the debris and retrieve his sword. Alexandra audibly exhaled as she felt a wave of relief wash over her. The feeling was so intense that it took her a moment to process Ekkehardt¡¯s words. She then scrambled back to K?hler, the guard.
Alexander¡¯s kicking was so powerful that it had knocked the man to the supine position and drawn blood. The soldier¡¯s face, which had turned a sickly pale from blood loss, had now been thoroughly battered. His right eye was bruised and his broken nose was leaking blood from both nostrils. A pool of blood began to form around his body.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Alexandra asked as she frantically grabbed K?hler¡¯s dagger and attempted to open his shirt. K?hler attempted to respond, but was initially only able to spit out a slew of blood, salvia and teeth.
¡°No¡¡± He leaked out. He spoke in a confused tone, as if he was no longer aware of what was happening around him.
¡°I can fix this¡ If I can stop the bleeding and get you to¡¡± Alexandra rambled as she cut open K?hler¡¯s shirt and grabbed a nearby tablecloth.
¡°It¡¯s... okay¡¡± K?hler muttered as he closed his eyes and gently lost consciousness. His breathing would cease a few moments later.
¡°No! I can still help you! You can¡¯t go now!¡± Alexandra babbled to herself as she tried to cut the tablecloth into a make-shift bandage for the dead man.
¡°He¡¯s dead, Alex!¡± Siegfried shouted as he attempted to keep his (now singular) eye on all four of the tower¡¯s balconies; unsure of which one Alexander would emerge from. By this point Ekkehardt had managed to get back on his feet and took up a defensive stance near Alexandra. After a few moments Alexandra dropped the make-shift bandage and fell silent. A dead silence hung in the air as Ekkehardt and Siegfried tried to determine what Alexander¡¯s next move was going to be. All Alexandra could hear was her own breathing and the faint noise of Alexander¡¯s footsteps somewhere above her.
Suddenly the sound of shattering wood filled the room as Alexander broke through the roof just above Ekkehardt and dove to the floor while holding his sword in a reverse grip and aiming it downwards as though it was some sort of pointed missile. The prince plunged the sword down towards Ekkehardt, grazing him as it cut one long laceration down from his shoulder to his buttock before it slammed against the floor and broke slightly above the handguard. Ekkehardt winced as he felt a sharp pain sear down his body. He instinctively spun around to strike at Alexander, but he had already jumped backward by the time Ekkehardt had swung his sword.
Seeing what was happening, Siegfried rushed towards Alexander. Alexander quickly threw his broken sword at Siegfried. The broken sword, which was no larger than a dagger at this point, flew through the air, rotating vertically before hitting Siegfried on the left side of his forehead, slightly above his remaining eye. Siegfried fell to the ground.
Alexander then turned to Ekkehardt, who, between the burning pain in his back and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, had yet to emotionally respond to what had just happened to Siegfried.
Ekkehardt charged at the now unarmed Alexander. Rather than attempting to run away and pick up a weapon, Alexander widened his stance, formed his hands into fists, and raised them in front of them as though he was a boxer. Had the situation been different, Ekkehardt might have questioned why Alexander had chosen to do this, but after everything that had happened, he wasn¡¯t going to let a chance to attack while his enemy was unarmed go to waste.
Ekkehardt swung his sword and Alexander raised a fist to block him. The young knight prepared himself for the feeling of his sword cutting through bone and sinew before exiting Alexander¡¯s elbow, but that was not the case. Rather, Ekkehardt heard a metallic ¡®clang¡¯ as his sword was stopped dead in his tracks. Ekkehardt instinctually pulled his sword back and prepared for another attack, only to discover that Alexander¡¯s knuckles had turned to a dark metallic color. The next thing he knew one of Alexander¡¯s knuckles connected with the side of his head. He was knocked backwards. Then he felt another hit his stomach, and another hit his neck after that, both strikes occurring in rapid succession. One more blow to the head and Ekkehardt fell to the ground as Alexandra shrieked.
With all remaining combatants neutralized, Alexander turned to princess Alexandra. In a fit of desperation she picked up K?hler¡¯s sword. She held this one-handed sword out in front of her with both hands on the grip as though it was a stick with something dangerous or otherwise undesirable, like a snake or a piece of feces, on the other end of it. It was visibly shaking in her hands.
¡°Please¡ d-don¡¯t come any closer!¡± Alexandra begged. The mad prince simply walked to her, grabbed the sword by the blade before yanking out of her hands and tossing it aside. He then proceeded to grab her arm and drag her to one of the balconies.
¡°Wait! Please!¡± Alexandra pleaded. Her words had absolutely no visual impact on Alexander, who simply continued on. Alexandra tried to resist, but the condition her body was in left her unable to defend herself, even against someone far weaker than the man who was dragging her. As they reached the archway leading to the balcony Alexandra grabbed the sides of the arch with all of her strength as though she was trying to dig her fingers into the stone. This only delayed Alexander a second or two before the princess¡¯s strength failed her. Once on the balcony, Alexander kicked the wooden railing, causing a length of railing to break apart and fall down to the ground.
Just as Alexander prepared to toss his sister through the gap in the railing, Alexandra saw an arm appear from behind her brother and loop around his neck before pulling him back. Taken by surprise, Alexander sloppily pushed the princess towards the direction of the gap, but had been so disoriented by his attacker that he had just barely missed. Rather than plummeting to her death, Alexandra was pushed back-first into the edge of the remnants of the railing. The jagged edge of the broken railing tore through her dress and cut a large diagonal scar on the back of her left shoulder.
The intense pain in her left shoulder coupled with her fragile state of health left her disoriented for a moment or two, but when she was finally able to assess her situation she saw Alexander and Siegfried struggling against each other just outside of the entrance to the balcony, with the latter holding the former in a headlock from behind. Alexander had initially tried to free himself from Siegfried¡¯s headlock by clawing at the young knight¡¯s thick arms, but when that failed he tried to reach for one of the two blades that was currently lodged in Siegfried¡¯s skull. While neither Siegfried or Alexandra knew how much more damage Siegfried¡¯s head could sustain (or how Siegfried was even alive at this point), it was apparent that their predicament would not be improved whatsoever if Alexander was able to once again obtain a weapon. Fortunately the large difference in both height and muscle mass between the two men, coupled with the awkward position Alexander¡¯s body was in, made it impossible for Alexander to reach past Siegfried¡¯s nose. The mad prince let out another primal scream as he realized this fact. He then wrapped his arms around Siegfried¡¯s waist and leaned back, allowing himself to droop down slightly before he began to stomp on the floor of the balcony like a child throwing a tantrum. He struck the balcony with so much force that it began to damage the flooring. Bits of stone jumped from the floor as though it was being struck by a pickaxe.
At this point Alexandra had barely managed to get back to her feet. A feeling of intense discomfort spread over her as she realized that her path back to (relative) safety, the entrance to the balcony, had been blocked by Siegfried and Alexander. Her proximity to the edge of the balcony deeply disturbed her, but there was no way for her to make it back to the main room of the tower without risking being struck or grabbed by Alexander. Suddenly her blood turned to ice water as she remembered something that she had read about the tower of Anshelm a long time ago: That the balconies of the tower used an uncommon cantilever design. In other words, they were just slabs of stone and mortar that extended out horizontally from the tower and had nothing supporting them from underneath. Alexandra¡¯s eyes widened in terror as she realized exactly what Alexander was doing.
¡°He¡¯s trying to bring the balcony down!¡± Alexandra screamed. Alexandra¡¯s words quickly made it to Siegfried, who immediately began to attempt to pull the mad prince back into the tower¡¯s interior as thick cracks began to form on the floor of the balcony.
Alexandra attempted to run back into the tower. Just as she made it back to the entrance Alexander, who was still being manhandled by Siegfired, managed to kick her right in the stomach, putting her on her hands and knees as the balcony began to crumble around her. With one last fit of desperation she propelled herself forward, bringing her upper body back into the tower just as the balcony disintegrated into rubble and plummeted back to the earth.
Alexandra attempted to pull herself fully back into the tower, but to no avail. She lacked the upper body strength needed to return to safety. She winced as her right hand gripped what was once the entryway to the balcony. Using her left hand, she tried to dig her finger-nails into the stone floor with her left hand as so desperate for even the tiniest finger-hold that she would attempt to make one. Needless to say, this failed. The young princess soon found it more difficult to even maintain her position as a layer of sweat began to form between the palm of her right hand and the stone that made up the entryway.
And then, Alexandra¡¯s body failed her; first slowly and then all at once. She lost her grip on the entryway and slipped downwards.Time then began to slow down; each moment an eternity. Alexandra felt the sensation of falling in her gut as she watched her left hand uselessly slide across the floor.
¡®Not this. Anything, but this.¡¯ She thought to herself as she involuntarily played out what was about to happen to her in her mind as though she was experiencing a premonition. Her body would lose contact with the tower, then she would feel the air rushing past her as she fell. She probably wouldn¡¯t scream on the way down, though that had more to do with her exhaustion than any lack of terror. After that, the sensations would be more difficult to predict. Maybe there would be pain. Maybe darkness. Maybe something else.
Returning to reality, Alexandra watched as her head finally slid below the floor as her left arm still slithered behind it. Then, out of nowhere, her fall was suddenly interrupted as she felt an iron-like grip around the wrist of her left hand. The object squeezed her tight; enough to restrict blood flow, but not so much that it would snap her bones. Slowly, she felt herself being pulled up by her wrist until she was face to face with the badly-bruised Ekkehardt. Alexandra attempted to say ¡®Eike¡¯, but wasn¡¯t able to say much beyond a tired ¡®I¡¯.
¡°Don¡¯t worry Alex, I got you¡¡± Ekkehardt leaked out as he grabbed Alexandra¡¯s right shoulder with his free hand and continued to pull her up. Once Alexandra had been pulled back into the tower the two of them collapsed onto the floor right next to each other.
Alexandra spent a few moments breathing heavily as she stared at the ceiling. As her breathing subsided, she began to hear a man muttering somewhere to her side. Too exhausted to ask any questions, she slowly turned her head to the side to see Siegfried sitting on the floor while holding an unconscious Alexander in his arms.
¡°I¡¯m so sorry, your highness¡ I¡¯m so sorry¡¡± Siegfried muttered as he cradled prince Alexander in his arms. His one eye was open wide as he stared at the unconscious prince.
¡°Siegfried!¡± Ekkehardt shouted. The traumatized young man looked up from Alexander and towards his cousin, but did not say anything.
¡°Is he alive?¡± Ekkehardt asked as he slowly got up and began to stagger towards the two men.
¡°I¡ I don¡¯t know. His highness kept resisting my sleeper hold for much longer than any normal human could have. I don¡¯t know if I hurt him more than I needed to. I¡¯ve never seen anything like this¡¡± Siegfried responded before turning his eye back to Alexander.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Ekkehardt continued. Siegfried didn¡¯t respond; he only continued to stare at Alexander.
¡°Siegfried, listen to me! Can you move him? We need to get him to someone who can help,¡± Ekkehardt shouted. Suddenly something in Siegfried¡¯s mind clicked and his head snapped back up to look at Ekkehardt.
¡°Yes¡ I can do that¡¡± Siegfried answered.
¡°Good we need to¡¡± Ekkehardt began, only to be cut off by the sound of many pairs of boots quickly stomping up the stairs below. With a loud bang the door to the room flew open as soldiers, more than Alexandra could count flooded in. She exhaled deeply.
¡°Thank God you¡¯re¡¡± Ekkehardt said, being cut off by ten words that would echo through Alexandra''s mind from that moment till her arrival at Neustadt:
¡°Silence! The three of you are under arrest for treason!¡±
Chapter 9
Alexandra von Adler awoke the morning after her meeting with Count Claudius with her arms wrapped around a large warm object. As she forced her eyes open she found herself lying next to her bodyguard, Ekkehardt Lowe.
¡°You¡¯re awake?¡± He asked dispassionately. He was lying on his back and wearing nothing, but a cheap-looking brass locket and a pair of pants.
¡°Yes...¡± Alexandra replied. Ekkehardt then got out of bed and began to get dressed.
¡°Alex, we talked about this. You can''t just get into my bed like that,¡± He scolded, still not looking at her.
¡°I know. I¡ had that nightmare again, the one with Alexander¡¡± Alex tried to explain.
¡°No.¡± Ekkehardt interjected while being careful not to raise his voice, ¡°You have to remember what we¡¯re doing here. If someone was to see you like that, then it wouldn¡¯t just be a problem for us, but also for Alexander. Right now you look just like him. If someone was to see us and get the wrong idea then he might never be able to rule effectively, even if we break the curse.¡±
¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry,¡± Alexandra replied as she briefly covered her face in shame. What he was saying was absolutely true. If Alexandra was able to cure her brother then the last thing he would need after he returned to normal would be accusations of homosexuality. It also didn¡¯t help that she did indeed look much like her brother in her current state. Even if she had removed the undertunic she was wearing, the underdeveloped nature of her chest made it so that, to most observers, she appeared to be nothing more than a rather slender male, which the real Alexander happened to be.
¡°Just please don¡¯t do it again¡¡± Ekkehardt said before getting out of bed.
Alexandra then followed suit and the two of them began to dress themselves. They both wore rather simple male clothing: pants, leather boots, long sleeve shirts, leather belts, and gambesons. As Ekkehardt finished putting on his gambeson he turned to Alexandra.
¡°How many more vials of Rasmussen¡¯s potion do you have?¡± He asked. He looked at the princess with equal part¡¯s sternness and discomfort.
¡°Three,¡± She answered without turning to face him. For a few moments neither of them said a word.
¡°I should have enough to get me to the Cursemaker, but beyond that, I¡¡± She said, still looking away from him.
¡°No,¡± Ekkehardt interjected, causing Alexandra to turn her head to him.
¡°What?¡±
¡°You were about to say something about how, if it comes to it, you want me to leave you and get the demon blood back to Rasmussen as fast as possible, weren¡¯t you? I¡¯m not going to do that. One way or another, we¡¯re going home together. Got it?¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°Eike, we¡¯re here to make Alexander normal again. What happens to me isn¡¯t important...¡± Alexandra began.
¡°It¡¯s important to me!¡± Ekkehardt snapped. Alexandra was taken aback by this sudden outburst. A silence hung over the room for a few moments before Ekkehardt spoke.
¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ I just don¡¯t want to lose you after everything that happened with Ludwig and Siegfried...¡± Ekkehardt said.
He then turned around to sling his two-handed sword and the leather scabbard that contained on his back. Alexandra turned away from Ekkehardt once again and attached her own scabbard to her belt. It contained a sword that was not entirely unlike the one her brother Alexander carried three months ago. It was also a one-handed sword and its handguard was formed in the shape of a double-headed eagle, but its hilt was constructed of a cheap black metal and was devoid of any engravings or jewels. Alexandra then grabbed a leather sling that doubled as a headband as she heard a knock on the door. Ekkehardt opened it, careful to keep one hand on the dagger on his belt, only to find Rudolf the scribe waiting for them on the other side.
¡°Good morning, Sir Lowe. I hope that his highness slept well,¡± Rudolf said with a warm smile on his face.
¡°I am happy to say that I did,¡± Alexandra answered, careful to make her voice sound a little deeper than when she normally spoke.
¡°Oh¡ Excellent! I just came to inform you that Sir Ebner would like to meet you in the hall. He wishes to discuss today¡¯s itinerary with you over breakfast,¡± Rudolf explained.
¡°I see. Is he there right now?¡± Alexandra asked. Rudolf shook his head.
¡°No, he had some business to attend to. He should be there in a little over an hour¡¡± Rudolf answered, only to be cut off by the sound of church bells.
¡°...sorry, make that one hour exactly,¡± Rudolf corrected. Alexandra thanked Rudolf and allowed him to leave before asking Ekkehardt to close the door. Alexandra then tied her sling around her head before turning back to Ekkehardt.
¡°So¡ I guess I¡¯m not going to be able to talk you out of leaving me behind, should the situation demand it?¡± She said, Ekkehardt shook his head.
¡°No. I couldn¡¯t do that. After all, you¡¯re like a sister to me,¡± Ekkehardt responded. Alexandra smiled, though she couldn¡¯t help, but feel a little dissatisfied with Ekkehardt¡¯s use of the word ¡®sister¡¯. She didn¡¯t understand why it bothered her, only something about that word didn¡¯t feel right to her.
The hall of Brandt castle was, like the rest of the castle, modest. The rectangular room was constructed out of stone and dominated by three wooden tables, two that ran down the length of the room and one shorter table that ran down the width of the room while standing on a slightly elevated portion of the floor. There were a few long narrow windows that allowed some natural light into the room, but the walls were otherwise bare, save for a pair of old blue banners that bore the coat of arms of the von Brandt family and a painting. As Alexandra and Ekkehardt entered the room, they noticed that there were three other people already there: two children and a young woman. The two children, a boy and a girl sat across from each other in a distant corner of the room while playing chess and the woman was standing in front of the painting, inspecting it closely.
Alexandra and Ekkehardt took a seat near the painting. There were twelve guards following them. The twelve of them took up positions in the hall, careful to not be too close or two far away from the travelers they were tasked with guarding. One of the guards summoned a servant, who promptly left the room and returned with some food for Alexandra and Ekkehardt.
The food was lackluster in terms of both quality and quantity to the standards of someone who had spent their entire life as royalty, but it was nevertheless still palatable. The meal that was presented to Alexandra and Ekkehardt consisted of a piece of toast topped with a thin layer of apple butter and served alongside a small piece of salted ham and a cup of kvass. Alexandra and Ekkehardt began eating with little hesitation.
¡°This is pretty good,¡± Ekkehardt said without much passion in his voice.
¡°Yeah,¡± Alexandra responded in a similar tone while looking down at her food, ¡°Better than what we had the last time we were in a castle¡¡±
Three months prior
Alexandra heard the metal tray slide across the cold stone floor as she rested in a fetal position in a corner of her cell. Her back was still bleeding from the injury she had sustained during the fight with Alexander and the dress she wore was now torn and stained with both dirt and blood. The cell was a simple cube with three stone walls and one wall made out of metal bars that faced towards the hall. This wall also had a door that led to the hall.
¡°Food¡¯s here, your highness,¡± A guard announced as he slid a metal plate through a small opening near the floor. Alexandra did not react to this. The metal plate contained a single piece of white hardtack.
¡°Eat up. You¡¯re going to need it,¡± The guard said. He then began to walk away.
¡°Hey!¡± Ekkehardt shouted, ¡°You can¡¯t just give her hardtack? How is she supposed to eat it?¡± The guard simply walked away.
¡°Goddamnit!¡± Ekkehardt muttered. The two of them were silent for a while. Suddenly Alexandra spoke up.
¡°You can have it if you want,¡± She said, without expressing any emotion or even looking at Ekkehardt.
¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± He responded. Alexandra sat in her cell for a while before slowly reaching for the hardtack. She attempted to bite off a piece of it, but her endeavor was futile. She sighed and moved the hardtack away from her mouth. As she did this, she noticed a bunch of black marks on the underside of the hardtack. Assuming they were bugs, she immediately flinched and dropped the hardtack. Once it landed bottom-side up on the floor, she saw that they were actually something else. Perplexed, Alexandra picked the hardtack back up to examine the underside more closely. It was at that moment that Ekkehardt saw something inside of the princess reanimate as she examined the hardtack with more vigor than before.
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¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Eike, someone burned a series of numbers onto the hardtack.¡± She explained. Ekkehardt didn¡¯t know what to make of it.
¡°Numbers?¡± He asked.
¡°Yes.¡± Alexandra replied before reading off the numbers, which were arraigned in the following order: 13153131 251554 243343241415 3542154343 14114225 22421154 1242241325 1215313452 442415141532113333.
¡°Is that supposed to mean something?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Alexandra nodded.
¡°I think so. There¡¯s just no reason for someone to burn a serial number into hardtack. And even if they did there is no way for the numbers to be meaningful. Even if they were to accommodate a date, production number, and bakery they would still have too many numbers left over. On top of that the spacing is too deliberate to be anything other than a message.¡± Alexandra explained.
¡°Well, come to think of it, I¡¯ve never seen a hardtack with serial numbers burned on to it, only the baker¡¯s emblem or initials.¡± Ekkehardt remarked.
¡°You mean two things that happen to be absent here?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Good point, but what does it all mean?¡±
¡°I think it¡¯s an old cypher, one from the Hellastani1 golden age.¡±
¡°Can you tell me what it says?¡±
¡°I¡¯m going to need some time. It would be easier with my cryptography book or at least a quill and some parchment, but that¡¯s not an option here.¡± Alexandra answered. She then set the hardtack down and began to draw a five by five table in the dirt on the floor and began to fill out each cell with a character from the Alemanian alphabet; first left to right and then top to bottom. The alphabet the Alemanian language used wasn¡¯t perfectly geared towards that particular cypher, as the grid only had enough cells to accommodate twenty-five characters and the Alemanian language used twenty-six letters. Alexandra¡¯s heart skipped a beat as she realized this after filling all the cells only to discover that she still had one letter left. She then remembered that modern cryptographers solved this problem by having the ninth and tenth letters of the Alemanian alphabet share a cell. She quickly rubbed everything out and redid it correctly. Once that was done all she had to do was match each pair of numbers to a coordinate on the grid and she would have a message. After a few minutes of work, she had eight words written out in the dirt in front of her: key inside press dark gray brick below tiedemann.
¡°What does it say?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Alexandra read the words back to him with a great deal of enthusiasm.
¡°I think they¡¯re trying to tell me they put a key inside this hardtack.¡± Alexandra explained.
¡°Only one way to be sure. Break it open,¡± Ekkehardt ordered as he pointed to the hardtack. Alexandra grabbed the biscuit with both of her hands and summoned all of her strength. She gritted her teeth and contorted her face as she struggled to break the piece of hardtack in half. This went on for several minutes.
¡°Alex, would you like to hand that over to me?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Alexandra relented and tossed the hardtack into Ekkehardt¡¯s cell. Ekkehardt broke the biscuit open after a few seconds of effort, revealing a brass key baked into the hardtack. Once he was sure that there were no guards in the vicinity, Ekkehardt reached through the bars of his cell and used the key to unlock its door. The door swung open with no further resistance. He immediately stepped outside and opened Alexandra¡¯s cell door. Alexandra exited her cell as quickly as possible before grabbing Ekkehardt¡¯s hand and leading him down the hall.
¡°Hey, what are you doing?¡± Ekkehardt demanded.
¡°Just trust me!¡± Alexandra responded, not even looking back at Ekkehardt as she led him through a series of hallways, eventually ending up in a long hallway lined with busts of every head of the house of von Adler. Without much effort, Alexandra identified her great-grandfather, Emperor Tiedemann von Adler. She quickly identified a lone gray brick and asked Ekkehardt to press on it.With a little bit of effort, it began to depress into the wall. Suddenly, a square-shaped hole, roughly one imperial pace by one imperial pace in area, opened up to the left of the gray brick; right in between the bust of Emperor Tiedemann and Alexandra¡¯s grandfather, Emperor Arnold von Adler. It was big for the two of them to crawl through, though they would have to do so in tandem if they didn¡¯t want to spend the whole time scrapping up against the walls.
¡°Did you know about this passageway?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°No, I just remembered seeing a line of busts in this hallway when we were being led down here. I recognized some of them as members of my dynasty. I thought that if the hardtack was right about having a key inside of it, then maybe it would be a good idea to keep following its instructions. I know this could be a trap, but I can¡¯t think of anything else. We¡¯d be bound to run into a guard eventually if we tried anything else.¡± Alexandra said.
¡°Well, my plan involved escaping into one of the cesspits via a lavatory, so I guess this is the best choice we got.¡± Ekkehardt responded. It was at that point when the two of them heard something from around a nearby corner.
¡°Annnd then she said ¡®well, I can put a WHOLE apple in my mouth¡¡± a drunken voice slurred out as a small group of male voices broke out in laughter. Without thinking, Ekkehardt grabbed Alexandra and threw the both of them into the passageway that had opened up in the wall. Just as the men rounded the corner the entrance to the passageway closed. The heavy stone dropped a mere fingernail¡¯s length away from the soles of Ekkehardt¡¯s feet. With the entrance closed Ekkehardt and Alexandra were trapped in complete darkness.
¡°Did you hear sumthin¡¯?¡± a voice leaked through the stone wall that separated the passageway from the hall.
¡°Probably nothin¡¯,¡± another inebriated voice responded. A few moments later Alexandra heard their footsteps slowly fade away.
¡°Eike¡¡± Alexandra whispered.
¡°I¡¯m right here, Alex. Are you hurt?¡± Ekkehardt whispered back as he held on to some part of Alexandra¡¯s body; the darkness and awkward position they were in made it hard to determine where exactly they were.
¡°No,¡± Alexandra replied, still whispering. For a moment there was silence.
¡°Eike¡¡± Alexandra whispered again.
¡°Yeah?¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°My right foot is touching something. I think it¡¯s¡ fleshy¡¡± Alexandra stated as her breathing began to become more rapid.
¡°Is it alive?¡± Ekkehardt asked, trying to stay as calm as possible. There was another moment of tense silence.
¡°I don¡¯t think so. It¡¯s not moving and it¡¯s not warm either,¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°Can you move it? Move it to where I can touch it with my hands,¡± Ekkehardt ordered. Alexandra nodded her head before she remembered that there was no way for Ekkehardt to see that. She then verbally acknowledged the order and began an awkward struggle with the object, the walls of the passageway, Ekkehardt, and her own body. After a few minutes of blindly stumbling through that dark and confined quagmire, Alexandra was able to get the object to where Ekkehardt could examine it with his hands.
¡°I think it¡¯s a leather bag,¡± Alexandra said as she attempted to hand the object to Ekkehardt, pressing it into his neck instead of his hands. Once Ekkehardt got a hold of it he began to run his hands all over it, eventually finding a stiffer section that was connected to some sort of string or rope. He pulled on that part of the object and it began to open as the string shrank.
¡°I think it¡¯s a drawstring bag,¡± Ekkehardt thought aloud as he put his hand into it. Inside he felt a small metal object, four waxy cylinders, a piece of parchment, some twigs, and a rock. The metal object was shaped somewhat like a horseshoe, but it was not nearly as big.
¡°It appears to be three candles and all of the tools needed to get a fire started. I think this was from our friend, the one who sent you the hardtack. He also left us a piece of parchment, but I¡¯m going to need to get some light before I¡¯ll have any hope of seeing what¡¯s on it,¡± Ekkehardt explained.
¡°Do you think you will be able to get a fire started with those tools?¡±
¡°No problem, my father did literally teach Siegfried and I how to start a fire with our eyes closed¡¡± Ekkehardt said, his tone became noticeably less energetic as he remembered the state that Siegfried was in when he last saw him: two blades lodged in his head, being dragged away from prince Alexander¡¯s unconscious body by six other men while kicking and screaming. Alexandra wanted to say something, but couldn¡¯t make any words leave her mouth.
¡°You should move away from me while I start this fire. I don¡¯t want to accidentally light up your dress,¡± Ekkehardt warned. His voice lacked any emotion.
¡°Okay.¡± Alexandra responded. After a few moments, Ekkehardt was able to use the rock (which was flint) and the metal object (which was a fire starter) to light the small bundle of twigs on fire. He then lit a candle and put out the fire with the leather bag to prevent the smoke from either suffocating them or giving away their position. Alexandra sighed in relief as the candle illuminated Ekkehardt¡¯s face with its weak reddish light. With the candle lit, Alexandra unfolded the parchment and took a look at the message inside. It read as follows:
To the resident of Anshelm¡¯s tower,
Hello. If you are reading this then that means you have solved the cypher I burned into that hardtack and made it to relative safety. I do hope you brought your servant with you, he seems rather competent. The tunnel you are in leads to an old Reman sewer system. Once you get there you need to follow the red arrows on the walls. That will lead you to a hidden entrance near Arnold¡¯s Square. From that point you will just need to proceed to your doctor¡¯s house. A small group of men who are loyal to the emperor¡¯s true successor will be waiting for you.
Sincerely,
A friend
¡°You trust him?¡± Ekkehardt asked Alexandra as he finished reading the message. Alexandra sighed.
¡°No, but we don¡¯t really have much of a choice do we?¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°We could try to make a run for it once we exit the sewer.¡±
¡°But how would we make it out of the city?¡± Alexandra asked. Ekkehardt scratched his chin as he thought about the question for a moment.
¡°You¡¯re even if we don¡¯t get spotted by guards we would still have to go through at least one chokepoint at the city walls. Two actually, since Arnold¡¯s Square is in the citadel2 district.¡± Ekkehardt said. With no other options the two of them proceeded down the passageway.
¡°I¡¯ll go first,¡± Alexandra declared as she carefully moved between Ekkehardt and the wall in order to get ahead.
¡°Wait,¡± Ekkehardt protested.
¡°Huh? What is it?¡±
¡°Don¡¯t you think I should go first?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°No. If I¡¯m behind you and something happens to me, like if I get too tired to move on, then I wouldn¡¯t want to slow down and accidentally be left behind,¡± Alexandra explained.
¡°I wouldn¡¯t leave you behind,¡± Ekkehardt reassured her.
¡°I don¡¯t want to put you in a situation where you have to actively make sure I¡¯m not lagging behind,¡± Alexandra argued.
¡°I don¡¯t think I can agree to this.¡±
¡°Why?¡± Alexandra asked. Ekkehardt nervously gritted his teeth.
¡°Well, it¡¯s completely inappropriate,¡± Ekkehardt shot back as his face began to redden.
¡°What do you mean by that? There isn¡¯t enough space for us to move side-by-side. We can only progress by going in tandem.¡±
¡°That¡¯s not what I mean.¡±
¡°Well Eike, if that is the case, then you should probably explain, because these candles won¡¯t last forever,¡± Alexandra responded. Ekkehardt sighed and the two proceeded down the passageway.
The two of them crawled through the dark and dusty passageway. Ekkehardt and Alexandra both had a very good mental map of the palace, but the sheer number of turns and slopes, combined with the fact that they were traveling without any landmarks to guide them made it impossible to tell where they were going. As they continued to crawl through the passageway, they began to realize that the path they were on might be taking them to Arnold¡¯s Square, but there was no way that it was taking them via the most direct route.
As Alexandra rounded a corner, she saw something she didn¡¯t expect: a ray of light coming out of a small hole in the floor, one just big enough for her to look through. As she got to the hole in the floor, she stopped and moved to the side so that Ekkehardt could also get a look at it. Once Ekkehardt had been made aware of the situation, she pressed her face against the floor to get a look at what was beyond the hole. It was exactly the last thing Alexandra wanted to see: Agrippina.
Chapter 10
Agrippina violently sobbed into the ornate white clothing of the young archbishop in front of her. The archbishop had slightly tan skin and neat dark brown hair. A second, much older, man who was dressed in elegant robes, sat off in a corner of the room. The room was relatively small and furnished with two large, cushioned chairs with silk upholstery, a low table, and a fireplace. The walls were lined with large display cases constructed of glass and rosewood, a type of wood imported from lands far to the south east; far beyond the Osminite Empire. The display cases were full to the brim with expensive and exotic trinkets. The treasures contained within included porcelain tableware inlaid with gold from Mittelreich1, a land so far to the east that it wasn¡¯t drawn on any of the empire¡¯s maps; a white marble bust of an early Reman emperor that was easily over a thousand years old; a double-pointed scimitar that was looted from an Osminite baggage train and had both its handle as well as its scabbard constructed out of gold encrusted with many jewels; and many more objects of similar nature.
¡°Your highness, please. What happened today was not your fault. You couldn¡¯t have known¡¡± the man said.
¡°...He¡¯s my little brother and I couldn¡¯t protect him. What kind of sister am I?¡± the princess wailed. The archbishop then grabbed Agrippina by the shoulders.
¡°Please listen, your highness. Right now, your father isn¡¯t in the capital and it¡¯s going to take some time to make him aware of the situation. In the meantime, we need someone to take over your brother¡¯s responsibilities and run the day-to-day operations of the grand duchy.¡± the archbishop explained.
¡°...but Father Buffone2, I¡¯m not fit for such a position!¡± Agripina protested as tears rolled down her face.
¡°Your highness, please listen to me. It took immense bravery to do what you did today. If you didn¡¯t alert the palace guards in time then who knows what Alexandra would have done to your brother! I have no doubt in my mind that you have what it takes to be the temporary de-facto ruler of the grand duchy of Ostermania! I am willing to vouch for your competence, wisdom, and benevolence even if I have to go to Reme and speak with the patriarch myself!¡± archbishop Buffone declared.
¡°...you¡ you really think that?¡± a sniffling Agrippina asked.
¡°Yes.¡± The archbishop responded. He then hugged Agrippina, ¡°Everything is going to be okay. I¡¯m sure the empire¡¯s best people are doing everything they can to help Alexander and if there is assistance the church can provide, then all you have to do is ask.¡±
¡°Thank you, Father Buffone.¡± Agrippina said. After a few minutes the archbishop left. The moment the door closed behind the archbishop, Agrippina''s face switched from a smile to a look of contempt.
¡°I can¡¯t believe that actually worked.¡± She said to the old man, ¡°That man is a complete moron.¡± The old man smiled.
¡°Well, that is why your father and I had the patriarch give him the position. It wasn¡¯t cheap, but I think it paid off. Having a local church leader who¡¯s completely neutered as far as politics is concerned is well worth the price of a couple hundred gold pieces. Still, that only solves our immediate problems. Your grasp on power is still quite tenuous. The moment your father returns to K?nigsstadt, you will lose everything you¡¯ve gained today,¡± The old man warned. Agrippina turned back to look at him.
¡°Our mutual benefactor has told me that he¡¯s already found a way to buy us more time,¡± Agrippina replied.
¡°Oh really? How the hell is he supposed to accomplish that when he isn¡¯t even able to come here and speak with us in person?¡±
¡°Trust me, von Steinmann, he will get it done,¡± Agrippina responded. The man laughed.
¡°So you¡¯re saying that you have faith in him? That must be the first time I¡¯ve ever heard you say that.¡± He said. Agrippina turned and looked him in the eye.
¡°I don¡¯t have faith in him or anyone. All I know is that when he says he¡¯s going to do something, it will be done. It would be in your best interest to remember that.¡± Agrippina warned.
¡°Well, he did say that he was going to have some stupid bitch mind-control her backdoor-bandit of a little brother into marrying some noblewoman and producing a couple of nice, easily manipulatable heirs with a magic trinket, but that apparently did not go as planned,¡± von Steinmann replied. Agrippina clenched her teeth and contorted her face into a look of pure malice.
¡°It¡¯s not my fault that my idiot sister ruined everything. I would have had enough time to master the power of the amulet if that scrawny little freak hadn¡¯t gone and provoked me!¡± Agrippina barked. Count von Steinmann sighed.
¡°Now, I¡¯m not particularly fond of that runt either, especially after that incident last year, but what could she have possibly done to provoke you? Did she wheeze at you aggressively?¡± von Steinmann asked. Agrippina growled as she clenched her fist and narrowed her eyes. At that moment she didn¡¯t look like a person, but a rabid animal. The count then got up from his seat and began to exit the room. Just before he left he turned to Agrippina.
¡°My friends in the nobility will tolerate this for now, but you better get the situation under control as soon as possible. If worse comes to worst, then I¡¯m not going to protect either you or that man from your father,¡± von Steinmann warned.
¡°If worse comes to worst, then I won¡¯t be the sort of person that needs protection and you won¡¯t be the sort of person who can provide it,¡± Agrippina responded. Count von Steinmann scoffed at her remark and exited the room. Agrippina remained motionless for about ninety seconds before letting out a growl. She then inhaled deeply before turning around and putting her foot through the table. Agrippina let out a blood-curdling scream as she grabbed a fire poker and began to smash everything in the room. She began by turning the chairs into scrap wood and then went on to the display cases. The sound of glass and porcelain smashing onto the floor filled the room as Agrippina dispensed as much violence as she physically could. Within a minute or two Cili entered the once opulent and ornate room to find it completely destroyed with Agrippina standing in the middle of it.
¡°Your tallness, are you requiring of ass¡¡± Cili said, unable to finish the word ¡®assistance¡¯ as she saw Agrippina turn around and stare at her with wide, soulless eyes. If Ekkehardt, Alexandra, or anyone present in the room at the time could have slowed down and rewound time to listen to Agrippina¡¯s response slowly and multiple times over, they would have deciphered a message that sounds something along the lines of ¡®How dare you come in here?¡¯, but all they could make out was an incomprehensible shriek.
Agrippina lunged at the servant girl and struck her multiple times in the arms, shoulders, torso, and head with the fire poker. Fortunately, the young girl had instinctually raised her arms in self-defense. Unfortunately, this only made Agrippina more angry.
¡°Clemency, please! Clemency!¡± Cili pleaded, but it was all in vain. Agrippina continued to strike the servant girl as tears and blood leaked from her body. Soon the girl began to plead more desperately in Peschtian, her native tongue, but neither Alexandra nor Agrippina could understand what she was saying. Cili slumped against a wall as Agrippina raised the fire poker for one final blow to Cili¡¯s head. Suddenly Alexandra broke out into a dry hacking cough. Without thinking, Ekkehardt grabbed her body, pulling her away from the hole with one hand while covering her mouth with the other. This was all that he could do to muffle the sound of her coughing. The coughing only lasted for about fifteen seconds, but that was more than enough to attract Aggripina¡¯s attention. Neither of them could see it, but Agrippina took a moment to pause and look at the ceiling. Her cold green eyes searched for the source of the noise. Ekkehardt felt Alexandra¡¯s heart beating out of her chest as they waited for Aggripina¡¯s next words.
Suddenly, the door opened and a man, another servant, entered. He held a letter in his hand.
¡°Your highness, I have a very important message! It¡¯s from an important advisor!¡± He announced. Agrippina turned to look at him.
¡°I¡¯m in the middle of something!¡± She barked, raising the fire poker at the servant. The servant was scared and confused, but decided that the best course of action was to follow his orders.
¡°I was told to tell you that the sender would like to speak with you tomorrow¡ under the moonlight,¡± He explained. Upon hearing those final three words Agrippina dropped the fire poker and rushed towards the servant. She then snatched the letter from his hands.
¡°You¡¯re dismissed,¡± She said. The servant took no chances and left the room as quickly as possible.
Agrippina tore open the letter and read it quickly. Her eyes moved from left to right as she scanned its contents. She then read it again and sighed. Her body language changed. It now looked as though all of the strength was drained from her body.
¡°You¡¡± She said as she turned to and pointed at Cili, whose face was covered in blood, tears, and snot, ¡°Clean this up.¡±
Agrippina exited the room.
Emperor Arnold von Adler, also known as ¡®Arnold of the Black Ridge¡¯, was a massive man. He was nearly two imperial paces of pure muscle. When he had a statue of himself made to be erected in K?nigsstadt there was no need nor room for exaggeration on the part of the sculptor. The only difference between the statue and the man himself was that the statue was three times larger than the real Emperor Arnold, albeit built to scale. The end result of the sculptor''s work was a stone behemoth; a statue standing at five and a half imperial paces tall and heavier than anyone had ever cared to measure. Alexandra was truly amazed by how such a structure could have even a tiny tunnel beneath it without completely collapsing the entire square it stood in.
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Ekkehardt and Alexandra followed the instructions of the message to a tee, navigating through the hidden passageway and into the old Reman sewers, which had thankfully not been used for hundreds of years. Regardless, they were still relieved to breathe fresh air once again when they popped out of a hidden door located at the base of the statue of Arnold von Adler. They were even more relieved to see that Arnold¡¯s Square was completely vacant of both guards and bystanders. The two of them climbed out of the passageway and closed the door behind them. Under the cover of the dark, moonless night, they walked to Rasmussen¡¯s house. Although Alexandra had never visited Rasmussen at his residence before, she was able to quickly identify his house thanks to a large sign with a razor blade, a tooth, a leech, and a pair of praying hands on it. This sign identified the building it was affixed to as the home and business place of someone who was a barber, a dentist, a doctor, and a faith healer. While it was actually very common for someone employed in one of those professions to serve as all four3, Alexandra knew that Rasmussen was the only doctor wealthy enough to live in the citadel district.
Rasmussen, the royal physician, lived in a small, but comfortable house one block away from Arnold¡¯s Square. Like the other residents of K?nigsstadt¡¯s citadel district, he was a rather wealthy and fortunate man. Being not only a physician, but the royal physician, he had essentially achieved the most success that any commoner with his skillset could ever hope for. Of course, some of his success could be attributed to luck. He had essentially fallen ass-first into a position as the house physician for one Count von Kupferkopf4; a minor noble who would eventually hit his own run of good luck when his daughter Sieglinde5 caught the eye of none other than Emperor Alexander von Adler himself. Being short of a physician himself and trusting the advice of his new wife, the emperor decided to hire Rasmussen. This event would be pivotal as Rasmussen, in his capacity as the royal physician, went on to oversee seven successful royal births and the development of eight royal babies into healthy adults.
¡®And there would have been at least eight successful royal births and nine healthy adults if it wasn¡¯t for that last princess; Alexander¡¯s twin,¡¯ Alexandra recalled overhearing people saying things like this many times throughout her life.
¡°So, are we just going to know on his door, or what?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°I don¡¯t think there is any other way in. Besides, we have to get off of the street as soon as possible. Ekkehardt knocked on the door to Rasmussen¡¯s house. A thin, black haired man who was about Alexandra¡¯s age opened the door. Upon seeing the two of them he gasped.
¡°Is th-th-th-at you, your highness?¡± he asked with a thick Peschtian accent. He looked anxious and was careful to keep his voice down. It took a moment thanks to the dim light, but Alexandra was able to recognize him as Vilmos6, an assistant to Rasmussen.
¡°Yes.¡± Alexandra replied.
¡°Good. Fuh-fuh-fuh-follow me and be quiet.¡± Vilmos said as he ushered them inside. As soon as they were inside Rasmussen¡¯s entrance hall Vilmos closed the door behind them and opened a trapdoor.
¡°Go in here. No tuh¡ no time to explain.¡± He whispered. The trapdoor opened to a small storage area under the floorboards. It was filled with wooden crates and burlap sacks, but it had just enough space for Alexandra and Ekkehardt. Neither Alexandra nor Ekkehardt knew if Vilmos was leading them into a trap, but they decided to go with their gut and trust him. Vilmos closed the trap door on top of them and covered it with a rug just as a door on the far end of the entrance hall opened up.
¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s just the way it is.¡± Alexandra heard a man lament through the floorboards.
¡°Yeah. What a shame.¡± Another man said, ¡°Uh, doctor, you wouldn¡¯t happen to remember anything he said before he died, would you?¡± He asked.
¡°He just kept repeating ¡®I¡¯m sorry your highness,¡¯ until he died. How he was able to speak in his condition is frankly a mystery. As for the words themselves; I don¡¯t know what to make of them.¡± A third man said. Alexandra recognized him as Rasmussen. As Rasmussen said this Alexandra could feel Ekkehardt¡¯s breathing get heavier.
¡°Well, that¡¯s unfortunate. I¡¯ll make a note of that in my report. I¡¯ll also make sure to let Captain Sch¨¹ttmann7 know that you cooperated with our investigation fully. If you¡¯re interested, I can probably get Udo to have someone pick up the body tomorrow morning.¡±
¡°Thank you, sir. I would like to hang on to Sir Lowe¡¯s corpse, provided that is acceptable. I would like to perform an autopsy on it. I don¡¯t often get access to corpses that aren¡¯t subject to normal legal protections and the boy is quite the specimen.¡± Rasmussen responded.
¡°That won¡¯t be an issue.¡±
¡°Excellent.¡± Rasmussen replied. He then paused for a moment. ¡°Did someone come to the door?¡±
¡°Juh-just some drunk. I tuh-tuh-told him to go away.¡± Vilmos responded. There was another pause.
¡°Anything else you need, sir?¡± Rasmussen asked.
¡°No. Just try to stay safe out there. I don¡¯t know exactly what¡¯s going on in the palace, but something¡¯s happening. Commoners like us should stay out of it.¡± A man said.
¡°Thank you. I hope we both make it out of this alive.¡± Rasmussen replied. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Someone, presumably Vilmos, opened it. A new man, one with a voice that wasn¡¯t as deep as the others attempted to say something, but, for some reason, had difficulty expelling words from his mouth.
¡°Hell¡ oh, uh, what¡¯s going on here? Did something happen?¡± He asked.
¡°Doctor, do you know this man?¡± One of the men asked.
¡°I¡¯m not sure¡¡± Rasmussen said.
¡°I¡¯m Adi8, Adi Schumacher9, I believe you received a letter about our meeting recently.¡± The new man said, clearly nervous for some reason.
¡°Oooh. I remember now.¡± Rasmussen explained, ¡°He¡¯s a new patient of mine. This was the only time that fit his schedule.¡±
¡°I see. We¡¯ll leave you two alone then.¡± a man said. Alexandra could hear the door open and close as footsteps passed by her. As soon as the door closed Rasmussen spoke up.
¡°So, you received a letter as well.¡± He asked.
¡°I did. I couldn¡¯t just stand by knowing that Prince Alexander was being¡ well, I¡¯m not entirely sure what¡¯s happening to him, but I know that it¡¯s bad.¡±
¡°Come to my operating room. I¡¯ll give you the details there. Do you know of anyone else who¡¯s coming?¡± Rasmussen asked.
¡°Anyone else? I thought it was just you and me who were in on it; well you, me, and whoever sent those letters,¡± Schumacher replied.
¡°I was told to expect multiple people coming to my house, including someone of ¡®great importance¡¯,¡± Rasmussen explained.
¡°Uh, master? Th-th-there¡¯s someth-th-¡¡± Vilmos announced before getting cut off by a knock on the front door. Someone walked past Alexandra and Ekkehardt before opening the door.
¡°Hello?¡± Rasmussen asked. A new man that Alexandra had never met before responded.
¡°Hello... My name is... Egon... Messerschmitt10. I¡ got a letter¡¡± The man huffed out.
¡°Do you want some help with that?¡± Rasmussen asked.
¡°Yes, please¡¡± He responded. Rasmussen, Vilmos, and Messerschmitt struggled for a few moments with something of great weight.
¡°What the hell is... in this bag anyways?¡± Rasmussen growled.
¡°Weapons... The best of everything I had lying around...¡± Messerschmitt answered, ¡°I¡¯m a blacksmith. I¡¯ve done some work for the royal family and the gendar...¡± he said before his sentence was interrupted by a loud ¡®thud¡¯.
¡°My foot! My foot! It¡¯s on my foot!¡± Rasmussen shrieked as though he was a little girl who just tripped and skinned her knee.
¡°Oh crap, sorry about that!¡± Messerschmitt exclaimed. There was the sound of a brief struggle before the two men both sighed audibly.
¡°Why did you bring all of this crap?¡± Rasmussen asked.
¡°I was told that Prince Alexander was in danger and that I had to come to your house with my best weapons in order to save him. I¡¯ve brought everything I could: swords, daggers, axes, maces, morningstars, you name it.¡±
¡°I wasn¡¯t told that I would be taking massive deliveries of weapons¡ You do know I¡¯m a physician and not an arms dealer, right?¡± Rasmussen complained, ¡°Did you bring anything?¡±
¡°Just some shoes. They¡¯re in my bag,¡± Schumacher replied.
¡°Mas¡¡± Vilmos began, only to be cut off by Rasmussen.
¡°Vilmos, do you think I could get us some wine? Nothing fancy; just the Ostermanian¡¡± Rasmusen ordered before he too was cut off; this time by a knock on the door. Alexandra and Ekkehardt listened as two more men entered Rasmussen¡¯s house and introduced themselves as Heinrich11 Kurtzman12, a tailor and Ludolf13 Schirmer14, an officer within the imperial gendarmerie.
¡°Wait a minute, you¡¯re with the gendarmerie? Aren¡¯t you people taking orders from Princess Agrippina?¡± Messerschmitt exclaimed.
¡°That harpy might have Captain Sch¨¹ttmann under her spell, but there are still some men within the force who are loyal to Prince Alexander, myself included.¡± Schirmer responded.
¡°The thugs on your force are too stupid to even understand what loyalty even is. I don¡¯t want anything to do with whatever this conspiracy is supposed to be if I have to work with scum like you! Why would an ape like you even care whether his highness lives or dies?¡± Messerschmitt lashed out.
¡°Because, I owe him everything!¡± Schirmer barked back. The room was silent for a moment. Eventually Schirmer started speaking again, though more quieter and calmer than before.
¡°I have a little sister. Last year she worked in the manor of a baron who was¡ doing things to her. By some stroke of luck, I got the opportunity to tell Prince Alexander about it and he put an end to it. The baron never saw the inside of a cell, but he now has to pay my sister and a number of other women a large amount of gold every year. She now lives in the citadel district and will never have to look at that pig ever again. I never liked Captain Sch¨¹ttmann, but even if I did, I would happily throw him to the wolves if it helped Prince Alexander,¡± Schrimer explained. Once again the room fell silent.
¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Messerschmitt said, ¡°My¡ My wife is a Strivalian from Barbalunga. She has¡had this half-brother. He was from my father-in-law¡¯s previous marriage; before he moved to K?nigsstadt. My wife had never actually met this man in her life. Last year, he was outed as a spy working for the Kingdom of Sardoza-Acquadimarea15. When the gendarmerie were informed of this, they arrested my wife and beat her within an inch of her life. They would have killed her if Prince Alexander hadn¡¯t intervened.¡± He explained. Everyone in the room was silent for a moment.
¡°I did not have anything to do with your wife¡¯s arrest, but I am genuinely sorry that it happ¡¡± Schirmer replied, only to get cut off by Messerschmitt.
¡°You don¡¯t need to apologize. If you are doing this for Prince Alexander then I will work with you. I¡¯m sorry I questioned your loyalty.¡± Messerschmitt said.
¡°Okay, now that we¡¯re all on the same page, does anyone know who sent those letters and what they want us to do about Agrippina?¡± Rasmussen asked. At this point Ekkehardt attempted to open the trap door that he and Alexandra were underneath, but quickly found that there was no way for the door¡¯s locking mechanism to be opened from the inside, as that space was only ever meant for storage.
¡°Master!¡± Vilmos called.
¡°What is it, Vilmos?¡± Rasmussen asked.
¡°Puh-puh-princess Alexandra, she¡¡± Vilmos began, only to be cut off by Messerschmitt.
¡°Come on boy, spit it out.¡± He interjected.
¡°Hey, he can¡¯t help it; he has a stutter!¡± Ramussen barked, sparking an argument between the two men. Though it was hard to make out in the back and forth, Alexandra could hear the sound of one¡¯s palm hitting the flesh of their forehead, followed by an audible sigh. Someone approached their location and the next thing she knew, light was flooding back into Alexandra¡¯s field of view. Instinctively, the two of them rose up, eager to be free of the confines of the storage space. Vilmos cleared his throat audibly and gestured towards Rasmussen¡¯s previously unseen guests. The five men in the room stared at Alexandra and Ekkehardt in shock.
¡°Princess Alexandra? How did you¡¡± Rasmussen leaked out.
¡°It¡¯s a long story¡¡± Alexandra began.
Chapter 11
¡°...And then Vilmos put us in your storage area,¡± Alexandra concluded.
¡°I see,¡± Rasmussen said as he stroked his long brown beard. He was an unusually large and tall middle-aged man with long messy hair. He wore simple black robes, as was customary of physicians in the empire.
¡°I know this is a minor detail, but do you know what condition that servant girl was in? I don¡¯t think I can go to the palace at this hour without arousing suspicion, but I would like to help her as soon as possible,¡± Rasmussen inquired. Alexandra shook her head.
¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know. I wasn¡¯t close enough when it happened to make out any minute details.¡± She said. Rasmussen sighed.
¡°I guess I will just have to go to the palace early tomorrow. Hopefully, I will be able to twist somebody¡¯s arm and get the opportunity to check on, provided she survives the night. Still, I don¡¯t know how they¡¯re going to treat me when I get there, considering what happened,¡±
¡°What do you mean by that? You¡¯re the royal physician and the crown prince is gravely ill!¡± Ekkehardt piped in.
¡°Former royal physician,¡± Rasmussen corrected, ¡°I was relieved of my duty a few hours ago; right after I completed my diagnosis of Prince Alexander. Agrippina had me replaced with some foreign nobleman; an Alemanian from the Confederation. He was some big bald guy with a massive scar running down his face. I think his name was ¡®von Dunkelwald1-Faulenberg2¡¯... or maybe it was ¡®von Faulenberg-Dunkelwald¡¯. I can¡¯t remember; I was a little too busy getting dragged out of the palace to notice.¡±
¡°Wait, you know what¡¯s wrong with Alexander? Do you know how to get him back to normal?¡± Alexandra asked. Rasmussen sighed.
¡°I do. Let¡¯s all get into my operating room. I have some books there that will help me explain what¡¯s going on¡ as well as some chairs¡ you¡¯re going to want to sit down for this¡¡± Rasmussen explained before leading them down the hall and into his operating room. As Alexandra moved through Rasmussen¡¯s house she noticed that it was a bit of a mess with various medical tools, bottles of medicinal herbs, and various other small items related to the man¡¯s work scattered all over the place. Despite the fact this was her first time visiting her doctor in his private residence, Alexandra could help, but feel a sense of familiarity with her surroundings as Rasmussen¡¯s house had the same degree of disorder that his facility in the palace did.
Rasmussen led the party through a door that opened up to a large room. The walls of the room were lined with chests, drawers, and bookshelves while a long wooden table sat in the center. Upon the table lay a tall, muscular man with blonde hair. He was naked, save for two white clothes that were draped over his face and his genitals. His body was covered in cuts and bruises. Without thinking Ekkehardt rushed towards the body.
¡°Siegfried¡ I¡¯m sorry¡¡± He uttered. He felt his stomach churn as his throat swelled. Tears began to form in his eyes as his vision blurred and his arm began to shake. He didn¡¯t want to believe what he heard earlier, but now that the truth was right in front of him there was nothing he could do. He couldn¡¯t bottle it away or ignore it. Alexandra rushed to his side.
¡°Eike¡¡± She began, but Ekkehardt cut her off.
¡°If you¡¯re going to ask me to show a single iota of mercy to Agrippina then you''re out of luck. She¡¯s a monster. We¡¯ve known this for years and done nothing.¡± Ekkehardt stated, his gaze now shifting away from the body on the table. His words were filled with a sort of malice that she had never heard from him before.¡±I swear to Siegfried: that abomination will die by my hand!¡± He proclaimed.
¡°Mr. Lowe, uh there is something I think you need to know¡¡± Rasmussen chimed in, only to be cut off by an unexpected noise.
¡°Daaaz roooight! Muck ¡®er pay Eggert!¡± A voice shouted from somewhere behind Ekkehardt and Alexandra. It spoke in a strange and slow way; slurring it¡¯s words and ending it¡¯s statement with a hic-up. Everyone turned to the source of the noise, who was emerging from a closet that Alexandra had failed to take note of while entering the room. Through a half-open door, Alexandra saw a large man wearing nothing, but a cloth diaper around his waist and many white bandages all over his body. The bandages covered the entirety of the top of his head as well as his right eye. A bloodshot eye with a blue iris was visible on the left side of his face. One of his arms was in a splint and hanging from a sling. As he stumbled towards Ekkehardt and Alexandra, the princess noticed that he reeked of alcohol. He then proceeded to do something to Ekkehardt that was halfway between hugging him and falling on top of him.
¡°I wuz sooo worried ¡®bout you¡¡± He said to Ekkehardt.
¡°Siegfried?¡± Ekkehardt blurted out as he tried to keep the two of them from losing balance.
¡°Goddammit, you buffoon! How the hell are you even ambulatory?¡± Rasmussen snapped.
¡°Rasmussen, what¡¯s going on? Is that Siegfried?¡± Alexandra asked. Rasmussen sighed.
¡°Yes, that is Siegfried Lowe. He was brought to my house earlier today. Apparently, Agrippina had the royal torturer do a number on him; put him on death¡¯s doorstep.They wanted me to nurse him back to health; make just barely strong enough to survive what they had planned for him next. I wasn¡¯t really in a mood to cooperate with them and there was the matter of Mr. Lowe¡¯s newfound importance to natural philosophy. Endangering his life at this point would be a crime against medicine, so I swapped him out with some dead drunk an associate of mine dropped by house earlier today. Really fortunate that this big, strong, blonde-haired man died when he did; otherwise I would have had to let them throw Mr. Lowe back into whatever oubliette they were keeping him in. I couldn¡¯t let that happen! No, I will need him to be as healthy as possible if I want to conduct all the experiments I have planned for him. If only I didn¡¯t have to wait until my death to pub...¡± Rasmussen explained only to have Ekkehardt grab him by the collar of his robes.
¡°What the hell are you planning to do to my brother?¡± He demanded. Rasmussen was not amused by this action.
¡°Calm down you, oaf! I had no intention of cutting him open or anything barbaric like that. I just wanted to monitor his health over the course of a few months. The man had a piece of metal lodged in his brain. If I am able to properly record and analyze any abnormalities in his health and athletic performance over the coming months then I might be able to determine the exact function of the human brain! We already know that the stomach and intestines process food, the spleen makes black bile, the heart is responsible for thought, the lungs handle both breathing as well as the production of phlegm, and the liver produces blood, but we understand literally nothing about the human brain! A breakthrough in our understanding of the brain could mean so much for the study of natural philosophy3.¡± Rasmussen shot out. There was a brief pause. Rasmussen then leaned in towards Ekkehardt and began to speak in a more calm manner, ¡°There is also the issue of your brother¡¯s relationship with his highness. I know that he values your brother greatly and, as I am sure you are aware, I am very deeply within his highness¡¯s debit. He was one of the only people who stood up for me after...¡± Rasmussen then leaned in closer and began to speak just barely above a whisper, ¡°...well¡ after the quality of my service came into question.¡± He said, finishing his sentence while nodding his head towards Alexandra ever so slightly. Ekkehardt released him.
¡°Um, Dr. Rasummssen, why is Siegfried acting like this?¡± Alexandra asked, as Siegfried got up close to her and began mumbling incoherently at her.
¡°Why, that¡¯s because he¡¯s drunk, your highness. I needed to give him something to numb his pain and the only thing that seemed to work was absinthe. I had to use a whole bottle of it. I honestly don''t know how he¡¯s even awake right now.¡± Rasumessen explained.
¡°Uh dunno evin nuh how yerr¡¡± Siegfried mumbled as he began to sway back and forth, like a tree in a storm. His eye slowly closed as his voice became inaudible. He would have fallen to the floor if it weren¡¯t for Ekkehardt employing his strength and quick-wits to grab him by his one good arm before he fell over.
¡°Mr. Lowe, could you please¡ deposit your brother in that closet over there. I was able to place a cot in there for him.¡± Rasmussen requested. He then uttered the syllable ¡®veh¡¯. That was all it took for Vilmus to spring into action and assist Ekkehardt with his task.The two of them, together with Schirmer, carried Siegfried to the cot in the closet and set him down gently upon it. Schirmer had black hair that was graying somewhat prematurely and there was a vertical scar about the length of a finger that ran along the lower left side of his face. He was a large and tall man with broad shoulders, so his assistance was greatly beneficial to Ekkehardt.
¡°We need to puh-puh¡ he needs to be on his side; in case he vomits¡¡± Vilmos explained. The two other men complied. As the three of them returned from the closet, they found Rasmussen and the other men setting up some wooden chairs for them to sit on.
¡°Vilmos, could you get everyone some wine?¡± Rasmussen asked.
¡°Yes, sir. Would you like for me to get the Strivalian bottle?¡± Vilmos responded, subtly gesturing to Alexandra as he did so.
¡°Yes. That would be good,¡± Rasmussen said as he took a seat. The rest of the members of this meeting followed suit. There was a brief silence.
¡°So, I guess I should cut to the chase and explain the nature of Prince Alexander¡¯s condition,¡± Rasmussen began.
¡°I think we would all like that.¡± Ekkehardt responded. The rest of the group nodded their heads in agreement. Ramsussen began to explain the situation as Vilmos returned to the room and started handing out cups of red wine to the group.
¡°Alright then, an official story has been circulating within (and exclusively within) the palace. According to this story, Prince Alexander was the victim of a curse inflicted upon him by a dark sorceress, a devil-worshipping witch by the name of Alexandra von Adler¡¡± Rasumssen said, only to be cut off by the sound of a small amount of wine being rapidly and forcefully expelled from someone¡¯s lips. This sound was accompanied by Ekkehardt blurting out the word ¡®what?¡¯.
¡°I¡¯m not a witch!¡± Alexandra blurted out. She was going to follow it with ¡®who would dare make such an accusation against me¡¯, but the answer to that question came to her before she could even say it. Rasmussen sighed as he looked at the droplets of wine that got on his robes.
¡°Well, I assume that anyone who has the composure to make a dark compact with otherworldly entities probably has the composure to not shoot liquid out of their mouths at the first accusation of impropriety, but what do I know?¡± Rasmussen grumbled as he wiped the wine droplets off his robe with a rag.
¡°...sorry about that¡¡± Alexandra replied in a voice that was half-way between speaking and mumbling.
¡°Anyways¡¡± Rasmussen resumed, ¡°When I was brought to his highness, I found him naked, chained to a bed, and shouting a number of obscenities in various languages. The body of literature on this condition isn¡¯t exactly large, but I was able to recognize what exactly was wrong with his highness. I had only seen anything like it once before; a long time ago when I was traveling in Suidmania alongside his majesty. I was approached by a peasant woman who wore a thick and long leather glove on her right hand. She asked me who I was and when I told her she dropped to her knees and begged me to save her son. She told me that she was the mother of three boys. One day her eldest son went to explore a nearby cave with his friends. When they didn¡¯t return the village sheriff organized a posse to go look into the cave to rescue them. All they found was two small badly-burned corpses and an old chest full of valuables. Given the age of the chest and the fact that it bore the imperial Osminite seal, the sheriff deduced that it was a cache of war spoils that the Osminites looted during one of their invasions and hid away during one of their retreats. The items in the chest were all valuables belonging to some imperial nobleman from long ago, save for one: a strange medallion of unknown origin,¡±
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
As Rasmussen spoke, alarm bells began to sound in the minds of both Alexandra and Ekkehardt.
¡°The bodies of the two boys were too charred to identify. All that could be determined by examining them was that they were children, roughly the same size as the three missing boys, and that they had died recently. Without any evidence, the trail ran cold. None of the villagers knew what happened to the third boy or even which one of the three could still be alive. Things would have remained that way if the fires didn¡¯t start,¡±
¡°Fires?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°A few days after the villagers found the bodies, crops and livestock in the county began to catch fire in the middle of the night. In the case of livestock, it was especially uncanny. There was no evidence of the animals trying to run away or anything like that; it was like they were burned all at once. This went on for two weeks before a courier who had taken a wrong turn stumbled upon the cause of the fires: the eldest son of the peasant woman; the boy who had gone to play in the cave and never came back. He saw the boy roast a pig by breathing on it like a dragon. When the courier tried to talk to the child, the boy looked at him with cold dead eyes; as though the man had no right to speak to him or even be in his presence. He blew fire at the courier; just barely missing him. He was able to get away and alert the sheriff of the boy¡¯s presence. The sheriff decided to go out and see the boy for himself and¡ he wasn¡¯t as lucky...¡± Rasumussen explained. He then sighed and took a sip of wine.
¡°Once the villagers realized that their sheriff was dead, they grabbed whatever weapons they could find and formed another posse; this time to hunt down the boy. Armed with bows, hatchets, and pitchforks, they searched for the child. Unfortunately, the boy was also looking for them. He ended up baiting them into a trap and killed half their party with a single breath. He would have killed them all, but one member of the group was lucky enough to fire an arrow at the boy¡¯s head at the last possible moment; killing him instantly.¡± Rasmussen explained. Schumacher set his wine glass down.
¡°Wait, so the kid died? Where are you going with this story?¡± Schumacher interjected. Schumacher was an older man with graying black hair that was fashioned into a bowl cut. He wore a simple brown robe; common attire for a scribe.
¡°You know how I said that the boy was the peasant woman¡¯s eldest son? Well, she had two others and after her eldest son died his condition somehow moved to her middle son. That time, the villagers were able to capture him before he could hurt anybody. They had to use all of the chains in the village and put his head in a vise to keep him from moving it, but they were able to prevent him from hurting anyone; save for his mother. He blew fire on her right arm one day while she was trying to feed him; burned her so badly that when the skin on her arm healed it was leathery and hairless. Unfortunately, the boy turned into a living corpse during his confinement. It didn¡¯t matter how much food he was given; something slowly ate away at his body over the course of two years until heart stopped beating. The villagers, anticipating what was to come, had the youngest son locked up a week or so before the middle son¡¯s death. Just as they had predicted, he began to suffer the same fate as his older brothers.¡± Rasmussen explained. He then took a sip of wine.
¡°This is where I personally enter the story. This woman¡¯s village was close to a castle that his majesty was overseeing the reconstruction of, so I was able to pop in and take a look at the boy without creating any serious problems for his majesty. When I agreed to see the boy, his mother led me to an abandoned Samudaayian4 temple from the time of Osminite rule. It was the only stone building in the vicinity of the village. I found him chained to the ground in the center of the main prayer hall. His head was fixed in an upward position so that any fire he breathed would bounce harmlessly off the high stone ceiling.¡± Rasmussen narrated. He then paused to take another sip of wine.
¡°For the next three months I divided my time between that boy and his majesty¡¯s needs. Thankfully, his majesty never had any issues with his health during the entirety of his stay in Suidmania. One night, I found the cause of the boy¡¯s condition completely by accident. At that time I was with his majesty and his entourage at the castle that was being rebuilt. It was an absolutely ancient and decrepit thing that was built by the Oriental Reman empire only to be taken by some Suidmanian tribe. After that it was fought over for decades by various Suidmanian tribes and petty kingdoms before the Osminites swooped in and conquered everything. A century or two later it would be constantly taken and retaken by Osminites and Ostermanians until one Osminite commander leveled the castle using trebuchets loaded with solid metal projectiles. Neither the Osminites nor the Ostermanians had expected this outcome. I don¡¯t really see why this was the case, since neither side had ever put any effort into maintaining the place while they occupied it and it was built centuries prior by people who thought burning down their own capital was a perfectly reasonable response to losing a chariot race, but I guess that¡¯s just hindsight talking. Anyways, I was taking a break from my duties one night when I decided to go exploring in the ruins of the castle. There, I found an old Hellastani codex written by an Oriental Reman monk named Akakios5 Papadopoulos6. I took the book back to our encampment and examined it in the privacy of my own tent. I was hoping that I had just uncovered a codex about medicine or Reman history, but the information contained in that codex was in regards to something far more arcane and sinister; something that people like us have no business with¡¡± Rasmussen said, only to be cut off by Alexandra.
¡°Wait a minute, isn¡¯t Papadopoulos that demon guy?¡± Alexandra blurted out, ¡°I believe that Damien LeNoir referenced him quite a bit, though he was quite critical about some of the things Papadopoulos wrote, such as his description of the process required for the creation of chimera and¡¡±
¡°Pardon me your highness, but are you saying that you read the works of Damien LeNoir, the Metrovingian occultist?¡± Schumacher interrupted.
¡°...yes¡¡± Alexandra replied as her face stiffened.
¡°How did you even get access to that? Even looking at a book like that would require approval from the archbishop of K?nigsstadt and the court chaplain!¡± Schirmer barked.
¡°...some monk left the door to the restricted section of the imperial archives unlocked during his lunch break and I was kind of curious¡¡± Alexandra said softly. Schirmer was about to say something, but Ekkehardt got ahead of him.
¡°Sir, in her highnesses defense, she didn¡¯t inflict or intend to inflict any harm by her actions and I don¡¯t think we should let minor things like this get in the way of the much bigger problem at hand,¡± Ekkehardt pointed out.
¡°Also this was a few years ago and I didn¡¯t actually do anything with what I learned! I was just bored and all of the other books in the restricted section were either written in a language I couldn¡¯t read or were some sort of weird erotica.¡± Alexandra explained in a frantic voice, desperate to defend herself.
¡°Well, I guess your actions didn¡¯t have any ill-intent behind them and we really should be focused on - wait, what do you mean by ¡®weird erotica¡¯?¡± Schirmer said, his mouth running a few seconds ahead of his mind.
¡°Uh guys, I mean, Sir Schirmer and Lady Alexandra, do you think that we could get back to his highness condition?¡± Kurtzman, who up until this point had been silent, said. He was a rather cagey man. The man had very poor posture; he carried himself in a way that almost seemed as if it was done with the goal of making his already small body even smaller.
¡°Thank you Mr. Kurtzman, I¡¯m sure we would all love to know more about the weird things the church is hiding from us, but we should probably return from our tangent.¡± Rasmussen agreed. There was no objection from anyone else in the room. Kurtzman exhaled as though a great burden had been lifted from him. He then pushed his glasses back into face and ran his hand through his short brown hair.
¡°Alexandra,¡± Rasmussen began, ¡°In that LeNoir book, did you learn anything about something called a ¡®moonman¡¯?¡± he asked. Alexandra nodded her head.
¡°Yes, I have,¡± Alexandra responded, ¡°LeNoir didn¡¯t have much to say about them, compared to the other creatures he wrote about and he provided no illustrations of the creatures. According to LeNoir, they were a type of demon that were capable of shapeshifting. They could take on any form they pleased, but only during the day. Under moonlight they adopted their true appearance, one that LeNoir could only describe as ¡®grotesque¡¯. They could retain their human appearance by remaining in shelters during the night, but that would weaken them, since they need moonlight to survive the same way humans need food. Supposedly they each possessed some sort of unique ability that allowed them to bend reality to their will. In terms of that ability, they were like snowflakes: no two of them were alike. Unfortunately, there was one trait that all had in common: wickiness. Regardless of where they were or who they were dealing with they all took pleasure in causing as much pain and suffering to as many people as possible. LeNoir also provided a few examples of historical events that they supposedly took part in¡ of course, this is all just make-believe at the end of the day¡¡±
¡°I¡¯m afraid not,¡± Rasmussen said. There was no emotion in his voice or any expression on his face. Schirmer gave out a confused wince. Ekkehardt¡¯s eyes darted around the room; examining the body language of everyone present. Alexandra wasn¡¯t sure how she was going to respond to that.
¡°Uh¡ so, that¡¯s a joke, right?¡± Messerschmitt asked. Egon Messerschmitt was a short and wide-built man with a shaved head and a thick gray mustache. He wore a thick leather apron and a little bit of black soot clung to his face.
¡°It¡¯s not.¡± Rasmussen responded. He then turned to Vilmos, ¡°Vilmos, could you bring me that black metal strong box and a pair of leather gloves?¡± he requested.
¡°You mean the one you tuh-tuh¡ the one you ordered me not to mess around with?¡± Vilmos asked.
¡°Yes, that one,¡± Rasmussen responded. Vilmos nodded, got up, and left the room.
¡°What does this box have to do with anything?¡± Schirmer demanded.
¡°You¡¯ll see. Anyways, let me get back to what I discovered in Papadopoulos¡¯ codex.¡± Rasmussen said, ¡°In the codex, I found a section of text on moonmen. Most of it was more or less exactly what you said, but Papadopoulos included one anecdote at the end of this passage. He described a story of a wealthy Reman man, who attempted to harness the power of moonmen. In a way he succeeded. He was able to imprint the¡ essence of a moonman upon a medallion. Unfortunately for him, there were two notable problems with his handiwork. The first was that the medallion had to be made out of celestial iron. The second was far more problematic: the essence stored within the medallion wasn¡¯t just a part of the moonman¡¯s powers, but also part of the mooman¡¯s personality. Once the medallion is touched by a human they would be taken over by that incorperal personality.¡±
¡°So the medallion the villagers found in the cave¡¡± Alexandra began.
¡°Yes, exactly,¡± Rasmussen responded, ¡°It was a medallion meant to store the essence of a moonman. When the first boy touched it, he became possessed by the moonman¡¯s personality.¡±
¡°Wait a minute,¡± Messerschmitt interjected, ¡°Neither of the boy¡¯s brothers touched the medallion. How did they get possessed?¡±
¡°To be completely honest with you, I have no idea. All I know is that the moonman personality or spirit has the ability to jump from one host to another when its host dies. We don¡¯t have enough information to say anything conclusive, but it appears that the moonman spirit prefers to go after siblings of it¡¯s previous host.¡±
¡°So, you want us to believe that a spirit born from a monster from some weird book that is probably heretical has taken control of the crown prince?¡± Messerschmitt asked.
¡°That¡¯s what all of the evidence seems to point to.¡± Rasmussen responded.
¡°I agree,¡± Ekkehardt said, ¡°When I fought his highness he did things that just weren¡¯t normal. He was able to climb walls and make his skin impenetrable. I¡¯ve never seen anything else like it.¡± Ekkehardt looked towards the closet Siegfried was sleeping in as he thought about his battle with Alexander.
¡°I think he¡¯s right, Mr. Messerschmitt. I know I saw Alexander touch some weird medallion that Agrippina had on her.¡± Alexandra added.
¡°Your highness, I don¡¯t want to come off as rude, but I will believe in magic pieces of jewelry when I see them.¡± Messerschmitt responded. At that moment Vilmos returned to the room. He was carrying a large black strongbox. Vilmos leaned the box against his chest, exerting much energy just to carry it.
¡°I fuh-fuh-found it, master,¡± he announced. Alexandra could see a vein bulging on Vilmos¡¯s forehead. Rasmussen nodded in approval.
¡°Perfect timing, Vilmos. Come here.¡± He responded. He then got up and helped Vilmos place the strongbox on a small folding table where everyone could see it.
¡°Alright, when I open this box, I want all of you to keep a safe distance from it and under no circumstances are any of you to touch what¡¯s inside. Do you understand?¡± Rasmussen ordered as he put on a pair of long and thick leather gloves and grabbed a long pair of metal tweezers. Everyone nodded. He then turned to Schirmer.
¡°It¡¯s Ludolf, right?¡± He asked. Schirmer nodded and said yes. ¡°Since you¡¯re the only one of us with a weapon, I want you to kill anyone that breaks my ¡®no touching¡¯ rule,¡± he said with no emotion in his voice.
Chapter 12
¡°What?¡± Schirmer spat out.
¡°You¡¯ll understand when you see what I¡¯ve got here.¡± Rasmussen replied. He then produced a key from his robes and unlocked the thick lid of the strongbox. To Alexandra¡¯s surprise, the strongbox had one unusual trait that made it very different from those that she saw her father and brother use: it¡¯s storage area. The strongboxes she had seen before were made of metal that was, in the most heavy duty of strongboxes, about as thick as a pinky finger was long. The rest of the strongboxes¡¯ volume was just empty space used for storage. This strongbox was mostly metal. When Rasmussen opened the strongbox, Alexandra could see that the storage area that it provided was about the size of a slice of bread. Everything else was one lump of metal. He then reached in with his tweezers and picked up the sole object stored within the strongbox: a strange medallion. It was constructed of some sort of white metal and it¡¯s design bore no resemblance to any jewelry that Alexandra (someone who had seen jewelry from every part of the known world) had seen before. Within the center of the medallion there was ruby gemstone cut into a square shape.
Rasmussen then picked up a long metal pointer and tapped the gemstone in the center of the medallion. Suddenly the medallion was engulfed in a fireball the size of a fist. Alexandra could feel the heat from the fireball despite the fact that she was some distance away from the medallion. It was as though someone put a candle in front of her face. For some reason, she felt a breeze moving towards the fireball as the room was filled with a crackling sound. After a few moments Alexandra saw a face within the fireball. At first she couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing. Then the face opened its mouth.
¡°Burn! Burn! I will burn you!¡± It shouted with a voice full of malice and agony. The fireball began to grow bright and expand. Alexandra now felt as though she was standing in front of a large bonfire. Just as the situation felt as though it was going to get out of control, Rasmussen dropped the medallion back into the strongbox and shut the lid on it. He then pressed down on the lid as he struggled to get the lock back onto the strongbox. Once the lock was secured he sat back down as the strongbox reddened. Schumacher looked as though he was about to say something, but Rasmussen cut him off.
¡°Don¡¯t worry. That¡¯s normal. It should burn itself out in a few minutes.¡± He said.
¡°That¡ that wuh¡¡± Messerschmitt spat out.
¡°One of the medallions I mentioned? Yes; yes it was,¡± Rasmussen answered, ¡°That medallion was the one the villagers brought back from the cave. The fire you saw was created by the spirit housed within it; the same spirit that possessed the boys from the village. I was able to use a recipe for a potion I found in Papadopoulos¡¯ codex to expel the spirit from the boy and return it to the medallion. Once I did that the boy returned to normal. It was like there was nothing wrong with him in the first place.¡± Suddenly Alexandra spoke up.
¡°So you¡¯re saying that you can fix Alexander?¡± She interjected.
¡°Well, technically yes, but practically¡ I would need someone who could administer the potion to his highness¡¡±
¡°Done!¡± Schirmer announced, ¡°With my influence within the gendarmerie and knowledge of the imperial palace, I¡¯m sure I could reach his highness.¡±
¡°That could work,¡± Ekkehardt added, ¡°There are still people within the palace that are sympathetic to our cause. If we could get even a fraction of them on our side then it could be possible to get to Alexander without having to draw blood.¡±
¡°Hey, this all well and good, but even if you could get this potion to his highness, there is still the issue of making it.¡± Rasmussen explained.
¡°Well, you did that before, so why can¡¯t you do that again?¡± Messerschmitt asked.
¡°Because it requires one particularly rare ingredient, one that not even I have on hand.¡± Rasmussen answered.
¡°What is it? I¡¯m sure that if we can pool our resources together and maybe get some help from our friends we can get enough money to purchase it.¡± Messerschmit suggested.
¡°I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s the problem. We can¡¯t exactly purchase it,¡± Rasmussen responded, ¡°Most merchants that deal in medicinal substances don¡¯t even believe that it exists. The active ingredient of the potion is the blood of a moonman. It doesn¡¯t have to be the same moonman that was used to create the medallion, but it has to be a moonman; the more powerful the better.¡±
¡°Well, where did you get moonman blood when you made that potion for the little boy in Suidmania?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°The church has a reliquary located in the city of ?istgrad1, just two days from the village by horse. Inside that reliquary was a small vial of moonman blood that was just sitting there for decades; maybe centuries. It was just enough to make the potion,¡±
¡°Oh, how did you convince the church to let you use it?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± Rasmussen said bluntly, ¡°I was able to swap it out for a vial of goat¡¯s blood and they are still none the wiser. That¡¯s the reason why I never publicly spoke about these events. If I was able to acquire the moonman blood legitimately, then every scribe, nobleman, and physician on the Yerbian continent would have heard about it by now. I actually have a lot of notes written down about the whole ordeal, so that I can have my associates publish it after my death. Still, none of this matters unless one of you knows where we can get some moonman blood¡¡±
¡°And what if I do know where to get some moonman blood?¡± Schumacher interjected.
¡°Excuse me?¡± Rasmussen blurted out.
¡°I think I know where we can find some mooonman blood. I think that there is a living moonman in Nordfell¡¡±
¡°You think? What evidence are you basing this off of?¡± Schirmer demanded.
¡°Well, it¡¯s a long story. I have this¡ uh fascination with morbid topics. I¡¯m not some sort of sexual degenerate or anything like that, I just find things like murders and demons interesting. I also wound up learning about moonmen when my boss sent me on some errand within the imperial archives, something about crop yields in Barbalunga, I got distracted and started reading about records about mass killings within the empire. I eventually stumbled upon a series of letters discussing someone called ¡®The Cursemaker¡¯...¡±
¡°Oh, you mean the guy who supposedly had the ability to make people kill each other?¡± Alexandra interrupted.
¡°Um, yeah. How did you¡ oh nevermind,¡± Schumacher said, ¡°Anyways, I started reading about this Cursemaker guy in my free time. I became obsessed with him. I learned the details of every single murder in and out. I think I even figured out what his first name is. I was, and probably still am, the single greatest expert on this guy in the empire. Then, everything changed one night when I was drinking with a friend of mine. He told me about how he was tasked with inspecting the books and codexes in the restricted section. It¡¯s standard procedure; just do a quick look around to make sure nothing is damaged. Long story short: he got bored and started reading about demons; probably from that LeNoir book you were talking about. He started telling me all about demons, including moonmen. That¡¯s when something clicked inside my head: the Cursemaker¡¯s abilities sounded a lot like something a moonman could do and his actions sounded a lot like something a moonman would do. At first I thought that this was just some stupid conincidence, but then I checked the astronomical records. Every one of the Cursemaker¡¯s murders on the record took place during a time of the month where the moon was bright in the sky. His most gruesome murders; the ones with the highest number of fatalities, took place on days preceding full moons, and none of his murders occurred on new moons. The more I looked into this, the more everything added up,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°Okay, but none of this explains how we can get our hands on some of his blood.¡± Messerschmitt remarked.
¡°Well, what if I told you that I have some information that would suggest that the Cursemaker is in one specific location and is in a state where he¡¯s too incapacitated to move or put up a fight?¡± Schumacher asked. Messerschmitt nodded his head in approval.
¡°Okay, go on¡¡± He replied.
¡°I have this pet theory on what happened to the Cursemaker; why he disappeared. According to the imperial records, the Cursemaker¡¯s last known set of murders took place in Peschtia. He ordered a group of thirty villagers to grab whatever tools they had lying around and fight each other to the death with them; like some sort of Reman gladiator tournament. Unlike many of his previous murders, this one had a witness who would live to give a testimony to the gendarmerie. She was a shepherd-woman by the name of Bogl¨¢rka2 Juh¨¢sz3. Ms. Juh¨¢sz was away from her village when the Cursemaker arrived. By the time she returned, he was already in the middle of his killings. Thankfully, she was smart enough to hide and ended up observing the situation from a distance. In her testimony, she said that one of the villagers that the Cursemaker was controlling resisted him and struck him in the back with a hatchet. The villager and the Cursemaker then spoke to each other for a few moments before the Cursemaker used his powers to make the villager snap his own neck. Due to the distances involved and the fact that Ms. Juh¨¢sz had a hearing impairment, she wasn¡¯t able to make out what was said. Ms. Juh¨¢sz then saw the Cursemaker order the remaining villagers to kill themselves before fleeing from the village. After that, there were no more recorded murders that can be linked to the Cursemaker. I thought that point was where the trail went cold, but it wasn¡¯t!¡± Schumacher explained. Despite the grim nature of what he was talking about, he seemed absolutely enraptured by his own words. It was as though he was finally able to release something that he had bottled up within him for a long time.
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¡°So you found another Cursemaker murder?¡± Schirmer asked.
¡°Yes!¡± Schumacher replied with the energy of a teacher¡¯s pet who just got asked to answer a question in front of the class, ¡°...well sort of¡ I¡¯ll get to it. Sometime after the Cursemaker¡¯s final murders some villagers in Nordfell started complaining about an impenetrable white dome in some forest called ¡®the Frauenwald¡¯. I didn¡¯t think much of it until I learned of two things; the first of them being moondomes,¡±
¡°Moondomes?¡± Ekkehardt repeated.
¡°Yeah. It¡¯s supposedly a power that moonmen are capable of. According to LeNoir, they are able to will an impenetrable white dome into existence. This is supposed to be a last ditch defense mechanism for when they are wounded,¡± Alexandra explained
¡°Yep. That¡¯s what I was also told,¡± Schumacher agreed, ¡°The first reports of it came in just after the Cursemaker was struck by that villager. Now, that got me to believe that the Cursemaker might have been gravely wounded by the villager,¡±
¡°But, I thought that moonmen were supposed to be extremely hard to kill. How could one villager with a hatchet gravely wound one?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Well, they may have the ability to look like humans, but it¡¯s entirely possible that their biology is completely different to us. Maybe that villager hit the Cursemaker in some sort of weak spot?¡± Rasmussen suggested.
¡°I think you two are overlooking a major problem in Schumacher¡¯s theory: if the Cursemaker was wounded in Peschtia then why did he go all the way to Nordfell to put up this ¡®moondome¡¯ thing? That doesn¡¯t make much sense to me.¡± Schirmer asked.
¡°That¡¯s what I thought too!¡± Schumacher replied, ¡°I thought it had to be a coincidence, but then I started researching the history of Nordfell; specifically the history of crime in Nordfell. This started out as being an assignment given to me by my superiors; completely unrelated to my interest in the Cursemaker. They wanted me to conduct a survey of violent crime within the county. This was basically a fool¡¯s errand since reports of violent crime are Nordfell¡¯s single greatest export. I spent three weeks analyzing and tabulating crime reports until I found one report of three murders and an assault in a village called ¡®Weisshart¡¯. According to the report, these crimes happened all at once right before the Cursemaker murders began. It started off with the assailant walking into the village¡¯s bakery. He gets into an argument with the baker and a second man, the village¡¯s butcher. This argument turns violent and the next thing anyone knows, the interior of the bakery has been turned upside-down and the three men are fighting with knives in the street. When it¡¯s all over the baker, the butcher, and the village elder are all dead and a fourth man is wounded. Here is where it gets interesting: the fourth man, the one who was only wounded; he was some sort of soldier or militaman who tried to break up the fight. He was carrying a crossbow at one point he aimed it at the assailant, but the assailant was somehow able to get him to shoot himself with his own crossbow. This was followed by the assailant successfully disappearing into a nearby forest. This was especially odd when you consider that many of the witnesses claimed that he had multiple severe knife wounds,¡±
¡°So you¡¯re saying that those four men in Weisshart were the first victims of the Cursemaker?¡± Schirmer asked.
¡°Yes!¡± Schumacher answered, ¡°Think about it this way: We don¡¯t know why he was arguing with the baker. It¡¯s entirely possible that he didn¡¯t go into Weisshart with the intention of killing anyone, or at least without the intention of killing anyone that particular day. Maybe the baker or the butcher said something that ticked him off and he responded violently. This is the event where he first got to experience killing and probably what got him to realize that he enjoyed it.¡± Schumacher argued.
¡°That would make sense,¡± Schirmer added, ¡°I would like to look over the records myself, but none of what you¡¯re telling me sounds like these actions are premeditated. Still that does raise the question: Why not just tell the baker and the butcher to slit their own throats? Why bother getting into a knife-fight with them?¡±
¡°Maybe he didn¡¯t understand the extent of his own powers?¡± Rasmussen suggested. Schirmer and Schumacher looked confused.
¡°You said that, at least as far as the records are concerned, this is his first murder. Maybe moonmen have some sort of life-cycle, like what humans have, and he was still just a child¡ or maybe the more correct term would be ¡®developing¡¯?¡± Rasmussen elaborated.
¡°There are two more things I have to say about the murders in Weisshart,¡± Schumacher said, ¡°Both of these facts back up my theory that the Weisshart murderer was the Cursemaker. The first is his name. I¡¯ve read two eyewitness reports from survivors of the Cursemaker¡¯s attacks that claim that he used the name ¡®Cedric¡¯...¡±
¡°Cedric?¡± Alexandra asked, pronouncing the foregin and exotic name with some difficulty. ¡®What a weird name¡¡¯ she thought to herself.
¡°Yes, it¡¯s apparently from the islands to the northwest of Yerb,¡± Schumacher answered, ¡°Now, according to the daughter of the baker in Weisshart, the Weisshart murderer would also use the name ¡®Cedric¡¯ to identify himself in the days leading up to the murders. She said that he was some sort of hermit that lived in the woods next to the village, which brings me to my final point. I had to spend two hours searching through the archive¡¯s cartology wing to confirm it, but I swear this is true: the forest next to Weisshart is the Frauenwald; the same forest where the moon dome is!¡±
¡°So you¡¯re saying that he¡¯s hiding there, because, to him, that¡¯s a safe place that he¡¯s intimately familiar with?¡± Schirmer asked.
¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I¡¯m saying. The only problem is that I don¡¯t really understand why he¡¯s in this dome, what he¡¯s doing in there, or how long he intends to stay there. I know that it was there a year ago, because that¡¯s when an imperial official mentioned it in a report. Well, there¡¯s also the problem of how to break a moondome and I don¡¯t really know what to do about that.¡± Schumacher explained. The room was silent for a moment. Then, out of nowhere, Messerschmit spoke up.
¡°...I think I might know of a sword that can break a moon dome¡¡±
Brandt Castle (present time)
Alexandra winced in pain as she gulped down the last bit of her meal. She could feel her stomach churn as it struggled to process the food. With Adrian nowhere in sight, she decided to get up and stretch her legs. She found herself drawn to the one painting hanging from the wall. Alexandra casually walked up to the painting, stopping next to another girl who was also looking at the painting. Unlike, Alexandra, this girl was dressed in feminine clothes. She was somewhat short and wore her dark brown hair in a single braided ponytail. While she was definitely of Yerbian extraction, her skin was a slightly darker shade than that of Alexandra¡¯s or Ekkehardt¡¯s and she was dressed in the clothes of a barmaid. Strangely, her dress and apron had a number of stains on them, each of a variety of colors. Alexandra couldn¡¯t put her finger on it, but there was clearly something odd about her. Despite this, she decided to just ignore her and focus on the painting. It was a scene depicting five people. The first four were definitely related; each sharing brown hair and blue eyes. These four individuals consisted of a middle-aged man, a sturdily built young man with wide shoulders and a bright smile, a frail and sickly-looking young man who was the only person within the painting to be seated, and a young woman. Next to the young woman there was the fifth individual: a thin man. He had short, jet black hair and high cheekbones. He was incredibly pale and his green eyes appeared as if they were looking directly at Alexandra.
¡°So, you like paintings too?¡± The girl beside Alexandra spoke up. Her voice was a little high-pitched and she spoke as though she was trying to talk someone out of attacking her. It was faint, but Alexandra could detect a very mild Strivalian accent. Alexandra took a moment to consider her question. She had been painted multiple times before, but never really cared much for the art.
¡°Uh, it¡¯s alright, I guess¡¡± She responded. The girl¡¯s brown eyes lit up with excitement.
¡°That¡¯s incredible! I always wanted to meet another person who appreciates art! Ever since my grandfather died I haven¡¯t had anyone to talk to about painting. My parents absolutely hate it, so I can¡¯t talk to them. What¡¯s your name, by the way? I¡¯m Rosalba4 Artemisia5 Zimmerman, but everyone just calls me Rose.¡± She shot out.
¡°My name¡¯s Al...f; Alf Neuman.¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°Oh. That¡¯s a nice name,¡± Rose replied, ¡°Have you ever been to Strivalia, Alf? My grandfather told me that there are painters in some of the Strivalian states that are doing things with color and perspective that haven¡¯t been done since Reman times. He said that he¡¯s seen a lot of it himself. He traveled all over Strivalia as a painter when he was younger. He actually lived in Barbalunga until those no-good-dirty-rotten-throne-stealing von Adlers sent him here,¡± Rose explained, the words rushing from her mouth like water out of a fountain.
¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t know that¡¡± Alexandra began, only to be cut off by Rose.
¡°Yeah, it¡¯s all because my grandfather was commissioned by some baron to paint a depiction of the martyrdom of Saint Calvus of Mizraim, but the baron took offense to it, because he thought that my grandpa was ¡®coding¡¯ the Reman soldiers in the picture as Ostermanians and their Kroppian prisoners as Strivalians. I don¡¯t even understand how that is supposed to work, since everyone in that picture was supposed to be of the same ethnicity. I think that he was just trying to weasel his way out of paying, but that¡¯s just me. At least grandpa was able to paint this picture here after he was forced to move.¡± Rose complained and she looked at the picture. For some reason she was unable to make eye-contact with Alexandra.
¡°Wait, your grandfather painted this picture?¡± Alexandra asked. She wasn¡¯t sure if she could politely exit the conversation, but at least by asking this she might end up learning something useful.
¡°Yes. It¡¯s a portrait of Count Claudius¡¯ family shortly before the Time of Red Snow began. The old guy is his father, the strong-looking guy is his brother, the girl is his sister, and the guy in the chair is the count himself. Now the majority of this painting is supposed to be interpreted literally, but there are many small details that were added not because they were actually there when the scene was painted, but because of the symbolic values they held. For instance, the groma behind the elder von Brandt symbolizes his ambition to reinvigorate the family¡¯s finances through the exploitation of the county¡¯s natural resources, while the shoes next to Lady von Brandt¡¯s feet symbolize¡¡± Rose explained, speaking without any breaks as though she was in a trance right up until Alexandra interrupted her.
¡°Wait, what about the guy on the right? Who is he? Is he supposed to be a symbol or something?¡± She asked.
¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry! I must have forgotten about him. That guy was a former nobleman from one of those islands to the northwest. He was exiled from his home country due to some war or something like that and he bounced around Yerb for a while until he wound up here. Ended up becoming real close with the count¡¯s family for some reason. I think his name was Cedric of Sortpool.¡± Rose explained. Alexanda¡¯s heart skipped a beat.
Before she could ask any other question, the door to the hall opened behind her.
Chapter 13
¡°Rose!¡± A voice called from the entrance of the hall. Alexandra and Rose turned around to see Adrian, who was accompanied by another man. He was short, but muscular. He wore his blonde hair in a bowl cut.
¡°Oh, hi uncle!¡± Rose called back as the two men approached Alexandra and Rose, ¡°I was just telling Mr. Neumann here about grandpa¡¯s paintings,¡± As the man heard Rose say this, a little bit of color left his face. Adrian¡¯s reaction was less severe, but Alexandra could tell that he wasn¡¯t exactly pleased with this development either. As all of this was going on, Ekkehardt made his way over to Alexandra.
¡°Oh¡¡± The man leaked out. He then turned to Alexandra. He began to speak to her in a sincere, slightly panicked tone, ¡°Sir, I would like to apologize on behalf of my niece. She¡¯s a bit¡ odd. Whenever someone brings up painting she can¡¯t help herself. I¡¯m incredibly sorry if she offended you in any way. We¡¯re not¡¡± the man went on. Alexandra could see a look of shame and embarrassment form on Rose¡¯s face. Instantly, she recognized what it said: ¡®Oh no, I did it again, didn¡¯t I?¡¯ At that point Alexandra decided to cut off the man.
¡°It¡¯s fine, don¡¯t worry about it. She didn¡¯t cause any trouble,¡± Alexandra stated. She could see the man¡¯s body relax. He looked as though there were two hands that held a death-grip on his lungs and they suddenly disappeared.
¡°Oh¡ thank you,¡± He said. He then turned to Rose, ¡°I think it¡¯s time for us to go.¡±
¡°Okay, Uncle Klaus,¡± She responded. She said goodbye to Alexandra before the two of them exited the hall.
¡°Sorry about that Zimmerman girl. She can be annoying at times, but she¡¯s completely harmless,¡± Adrian said.
¡°I was being sincere back there. She didn¡¯t bother me all that much,¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°Oh,¡± Adrian muttered as he thought ¡®What they say about this guy must be true if he¡¯s able to put up with her¡¡¯
¡°Anyways, Sir Ebner, what can you tell me about our journey to Weisshart?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°I¡¯m afraid that our schedule has become a little muddled. Mr. Schwartzbaum has informed me that it will take him an additional day to have his forces set up in Weisshart. We could have you depart today, but we would require that you not venture past the village for a day,¡± Adrian explained. Alexandra scratched her chin.
¡°Well, if that¡¯s the case then I think that we should¡¡± Alexandra began. Just as she hit the word ¡®we¡¯, her vision began to blur, the world began to slowly spin, and Alexandra could feel her breakfast slowly rise out of her stomach. ¡°...stay in the castle today¡¡± she said, speaking as though her mouth was filling up with cotton balls.
¡°Yes, I agree. That would be the safest option, your highness,¡± Ekkehardt said, speaking loudly as he positioned himself slightly between Adrian and Alexandra.
¡°Alright then, I¡¯m glad that you understand. If you have any further questions, you may direct them to either myself or my liege. He is busy right now, but he should be available in two hours.¡±
¡°Thank you, if we have any questions, we won¡¯t hesitate to ask,¡± Ekkehardt said. The two of them then swiftly returned to their room. As they entered, Alexandra nearly collapsed as Ekkehardt shut and locked the door behind them. Alexandra could feel the build up of a sort of pressure and a burning sensation in her throat as she searched under her bed for a small wooden container; a chamber-pot. Without any hesitation, she opened the (thankfully unused) contraption and began to vomit into it. Her breakfast had been turned into a brown mush of kvass, apple butter, and bread with red bits of salted pork sprinkled throughout. Alexandra¡¯s eyes teared up as one final string of saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth.
¡°That¡ was a close one¡¡± Alexandra said, speaking in between deep breaths. Ekkehardt sighed.
¡°I wish Rasmussen was more specific about the side effects when he gave you that elixer¡¡± Ekkehardt complained. Alexandra took a few moments to catch her breath.
¡°You heard what Rose said, right?¡± Alexandra asked, finally able to take her face out from the chamber-pot and look at Ekkehardt.
¡°You mean about this ¡®Cedric of Sortpool¡¯?¡± Ekkehardt responded, ¡°You think he¡¯s our guy?¡±
¡°He has to be,¡± Alexandra replied as she got up and began to walk around, ¡°How many people named ¡®Cedric¡¯ could there be in this county? How many could there be in the entirety of the empire? It¡¯s not like we are talking about a normal name, like Georg or Fritz,¡± Ekkehardt nodded his head in approval.
¡°You got a point there, Alex,¡± Ekkehardt admitted, ¡°But if you¡¯re right, then it means that there is a chance that the count has some sort of relationship with the Cursemaker¡¡± Alexandra inhaled deeply.
¡°If that¡¯s true, then we¡¯re in much deeper trouble than we originally thought¡¡± Alexandra said as she looked out of her window and down into the keep, where she saw two dozen of the count¡¯s soldiers sparring with spears. As she turned away from the window an owl took flight from a ledge above the window.
A little later in the day
Rosalba Artemisia Zimmerman rushed into the back door of a run-down and unassuming building in the middle of Neustadt and was immediately hit with the intense smell of garlic, tomatoes, and alcohol. Just as she passed the threshold into the building she heard a loud voice snap at her.
¡°Rose! What the hell took you so long?¡± it snapped. The voice belonged to a portly man with blonde hair on the sides of his head and a large bald spot on the top. He wore a dirty white apron and stood in the middle of a kitchen where there were many pots hanging over open flames.
¡°Suh-sorry, I tried to get here as fast as I could¡¡± Rose stammered out before being cut off by the man, who emitted a noise that was half-way between a sigh and a growl.
¡°Stupid girl. Just get to work,¡± Rose was about to say, ¡®Yes, father¡¯, but was interrupted once again when another person, a tall, slim woman with dark brown hair entered the room.
¡°Fritz, do you know where the hell that brat¡¡± she barked, stopping only when she made eye contact with Rose, ¡°Goddammit, Rose! Where have you been? Do you even know what¡¯s been going on here in the inn? We¡¯ve got the usual lunch rush, we''ve got some Bergman soldiers, we¡¯ve got people in the little room. Do you even care that your father and I have had to take care of this by ourselves?¡± The woman shouted. Rose froze up, waiting for the torrent of anger to subside. With Rose unable to respond, her mother just shook her head and decided to move on.
¡°There¡¯s three plates of Ostermanian goulash, one bowl of agnolini1, and one plate of tortelli2. The goulash goes to the Bergmen near the window and the agnolini and the tortelli goes to the Bagnoli3 brothers. After that I want you to check up on those weirdos in the little room,¡± Rose¡¯s mother ordered.
Rose said ¡°Yes, mother,¡± in response, but her voice was so quiet that she wasn¡¯t sure if her mother heard her or not. Rose grabbed all five of the dishes and hurried out of a pair of cafe doors on the side of the kitchen. Once she passed through the doors she was greeted by the sights and sounds of the dining area of her family¡¯s inn during a busy day. The room was roughly six and a half imperial paces by ten imperial paces and all of the tables were filled with patrons. The inn served alcohol as well as both Strivalian and Alemanian (particularly Ostermanian) food. Rose was able to easily identify the three Bergman soldiers that had decided to dine at the inn and set the plates of goulash down at the table. Being Ostermanian, it was thicker than its Peschtian counterpart; more of a stew than a brothy soup. It was being served with a slice of rye bread, sauerkraut, and ale. The men were very pleased by the food¡¯s appearance and one of them thanked Rose in broken Alemanian. She then moved on to serve Antonio and Emilio Bagnoli, two brothers that worked together as candlemakers. Rose served the brothers her food and then moved on to her third task: taking the orders of the people in the little room. The little room was a private room with just enough space for a party of six or so to dine. It was only reserved by wealthier patrons, so it was often vacant. Rose sighed as she approached the door to the little room. ¡®Looks like I won¡¯t get to use my hidey-hole today¡¡¯ she thought as she opened the door. Rose stepped into the little room to find four people sitting around a table.
¡°huh-Hello. My name is Rose, and I will be taking your orders today. What would you like?¡± she said. It was at about this moment Rose realized why her mother had used the term ¡®weirdos¡¯ to describe this particular party. Among them there were two men and two women and the women had their hair cut unusually short and dressed in male clothing. Rose could see some weapons either left on the table or propped up against a wall. None of these fore individuals seemed to respond to Rose. Rose wasn¡¯t sure what she was dealing with, but decided that going back to her mother empty-handed was something that she wanted to avoid.
¡°How¡ how about we get you started with some drinks? What would you like?¡± She asked while pointing to a slender woman with pale skin and dark black hair. There was a faint scar that ran from the center of her bottom lip and continued down her chin. She looked at Rose without any emotion.
¡°Got any slivovitz4?¡± She said, asking for a type of plum brandy. Rose nodded her head.
¡°No problem. We should have some,¡± Rose responded before turning to the largest member of the group. He was an enormous man that resembled a wall of muscle more than a person. He had hazel eyes and a shaved head. He looked at Rose with the eyes of a wild animal and then¡
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¡°I will have one bottle of vodka, please, ms. server-lady,¡± He said in an innocent, care-free, and almost child-like tone. His voice was soft and pleasant. Rose was taken aback for a half second hearing such a big and scary man speaking in such a polite and non-threatening manner.
¡°You¡ you mean one serving, right?¡± Rose asked. The large man shook his head.
¡°No. One bottle.¡±
¡°Okay..¡± Rose acquiesced.
¡°Thank you!¡± He replied with a big smile. She then turned to a man with shaggy black hair. He was sharpening a dagger with a sharpening stone and didn¡¯t bother to look up at Rose.
¡°Ale,¡± He said. Rose nodded and made a mental note of his order and moved on to the fourth and final patron in the room, a woman with short brown hair. Her hair was choppy and unorderly, as though it had been cut by a blind person. She had her head slumped down in a way that made her hair cover her eyes. Rose could only barely hear it, but it was clear that the woman was muttering something to herself. It sounded almost like giggling, but it was softer and there was something malicious about it.
¡°What would you like to drink, ma¡¯am?¡± Rose asked as she neared the woman. Unbeknownst to Rose, the three other occupants of the little room had developed a look of apprehension on their faces and stared at Rose and the woman. Rose absent-mindedly put one of her hands down onto the table as she leaned towards the woman and repeated her question.
¡°Do you know what you would like to drink ma¡¯am?¡± Rose said. Suddenly one of the woman¡¯s hands leaped forward like a snake and grabbed onto Rose¡¯s arm with a tight grip; tight enough to restrict Rose¡¯s blood-flow. The woman then leaned towards Rose and sniffed her like a piece of meat with one deep inhalation. She then looked up at Rose, her brown eyes now fully visible, and licked her lips.
¡°You smell good¡¡± She said with an ear-to-ear grin before letting out a quiet laugh. Rose began to hyperventilate as the woman¡¯s grip on her arm tightened. She wanted to scream, but only air would leave her mouth. Time slowed down as Rose completely froze up. She was in a state of shock so intense that she didn¡¯t even hear the door open behind her.
¡°One hundred and ninety seconds¡¡± An angry voice male growled from somewhere behind Rose. She could feel the presence of the speaker right behind her, but she was still too scared to turn around.
¡°I leave you alone for literally one hundred and ninety seconds and this is what you do?¡± The voice continued. Suddenly an arm entered Rose¡¯s field of vision. It was clad in a long black sleeve and terminated in a large hand that was white as snow. The arm grabbed the woman¡¯s arm and pulled her off of Rose. Suddenly, she regained control of her body and turned to see the man who had just entered the little room. He was literally unlike anyone she had ever seen before. He was tall and dressed in all-black, but his skin was pale; no paler than pale. It was devoid of all color. This, coupled with his long white hair, white eyebrows, and white eyelashes made him appear as though he was made out of a blank canvas. The only color he possessed was in his irises, which were blood red. He pushed the woman back into her chair and then turned to Rose.
¡°I apologize for the actions of my associate. She can be¡ difficult at times.¡± he said as he slipped something into Rose¡¯s pocket, ¡°I hope that you can forgive us for her indiscretion,¡± he concluded. Rose was still unable to say anything. She spent a moment or two staring at the man before she muttered ¡®thank you¡¯. Rose tried to leave the little room, but then remembered that she forgot to take the pale man¡¯s order. She turned around. Rose tried to say something along the lines of ¡®Sir, I believe I still need to take your order¡¯, but she wasn¡¯t able to get past the syllable ¡®suh¡¯ without breaking down into a stutter. The pale man spoke up and answered her question as though he could read her mind.
¡°I will have one ale, she will have a glass of red wine, and I believe that we have a friend who will be joining us shortly. He will have a lager,¡± he said with an expressionless face as he pointed to the woman who had grabbed Rose¡¯s arm.
¡°Tuh-thank you¡¡± Rose said before stumbling out of the door to the little room. Once she had passed back into the main dining area she inhaled deeply. It felt as though that was the first time she had been able to do that in some time. Rose then decided to take a quick peek at the object the pale man put in her pocket. One look at it and she immediately identified the object. It was a white circle with a magnificent luster. In the center there was the profile of a handsome young man: Prince Alexander von Adler. Rose wasn¡¯t sure why this object was in her possession, but one thing was certain: this man had just given her a silver coin, more money than she would see in six months. She put it back in her pocket and went to the kitchen to retrieve two ales, one lager, one glass of red wine, one glass of slivovitz, and one bottle of vodka.
Meanwhile, in the Little Room
¡°Oh come on Nas¡¡± Hien? said before getting interrupted by the backside of Nashorn¡¯s hand connecting with her face so quickly that it was audible to anyone else in the room.
¡°We¡¯re not here to harm anyone that isn¡¯t involved. You can go back to doing that when this is over,¡± Nashorn instructed. He then moved to take a seat at the table when the door suddenly opened. It was Sova, the short bespectacled man with flaxen hair.
¡°Sorry, I¡¯m late. Did I miss anything important?¡± He asked before taking seat. The dark-haired woman answered him.
¡°Just Hien?¡¯s usual crap,¡± She said without showing much interest.
¡°What have you learned? Tell us everything,¡± Nashorn ordered. Sova got right to it.
¡°It¡¯s just like what you predicted. Count Claudius wants the Band of the Crow to take up a fortified position in Weisshart before the princess arrives. Schwartzbaum says that he should have that done sometime tomorrow, so the princess and her guard dog are just lying low in the castle for a day. It doesn¡¯t help that she¡¯s having another ¡®episode¡¯ right now,¡±
¡°I think that we should just forget about the sword and get rid of her right now while she¡¯s weak. I¡¯ve never got to¡ enjoy a princess before,¡± Hien? said with a wide grin on her face.
¡°As much as I hate to say this, I agree with Hien?. We don¡¯t even know if this whole sword thing is going to pan out,¡± the dark-haired woman added.
¡°...I just want to go home¡¡± Nied?wied?, the large man, muttered to himself.
¡°I¡¯d like to take the easy way out too, Zmija5, but Father explicitly said that the sword comes first, then the princess. Eliminating her isn¡¯t going to be something we can do until the sword issue is resolved. Besides, what you¡¯re proposing would require lying to Father and we all know how that will end,¡± Nashorn explained as his eyes narrowed and then darted across the room so that they could inspect the faces of every single occupant. Once it became clear that everyone in the room understood what he said, Nashorn began to speak again.
¡°Zmija,¡± he said as he turned to the dark haired woman, ¡°Were you able to obtain that map I requested?¡±
¡°Wasn¡¯t a problem. The count¡¯s people don¡¯t even know it¡¯s gone,¡± Zmija said as she produced a large scroll. She and Nashorn both got up to unfurl the map on the table. Just then the door opened from behind Nashorn.
¡°Hello! I¡¯ve brough¡¡± Rose announced as she absent-mindedly walked into the little room. She held three large cups in one hand (by using their handles) while holding a tray that contained three bottles, a wine glass, and an ap¨¦ritif glass. Before she could finish speaking, Rose lost control of her body as she tripped over her own bootlace and began to fall backward. She was able to hold onto the cups, but the contents of the tray were launched up in the air. Before Rose even knew what was happening, she felt something sturdy catch her body and break her fall. What Rose saw next was truly extraordinary.
A white blur shot through her field of vision, grabbing the tray from underneath, and using it to catch the bottles and glasses as they fell down. When all movement had stopped, Rose could see that all three of the bottles and both of the glasses were completely undamaged. She then turned her head to look at the person who caught her: the pale man with blood-red eyes.
¡°Tuh¡ thank you¡¡± She stammered. For some reason it felt as though her mouth could not function properly in this man¡¯s presence.
¡°No problem,¡± He replied as Rose regained her footing. He then handed the tray back to her. Rose inspected the drinks. Some beer had spilled onto her sleeve, but besides that everything was fine. She began to hand out the alcohol, being extra careful around the smiling woman.
¡°Thank you, ms. server-lady!¡± The large man said as received his bottle of vodka. He then proceeded to uncork it with his bare hands and take one swig from it. Rose watched in awe as he consumed a third of the bottle without stopping. Rose tried to speak up, but was interrupted by the man with flaxen hair and glasses.
¡°Don¡¯t worry; that¡¯s normal for him,¡± he assured her. Rose nodded her head. She then turned to serve the last person in the room, the pale red-eyed man.
¡°Huh-here is your ale, sir¡¡± Rose said as she handed the man his drink.
¡°Thank you,¡± He said as he accepted the drink. Rose was about to ask them what they would like to eat, but she noticed something lying on the floor. It was a white and black object just barely in the corner of her eye. Rose leaned down to pick it up and, on closer inspection, discovered that it was a small book. The book was lying open with its cover facing up. It was bound in black leather, but when she picked it up and looked at the pages, she found that they were made out of a strange material. It was more coarse and white than parchment or vellum.
¡®Paper!¡¯ Rose thought to herself. This must be that new material that the Samudaayians had brought from the east. Rose had heard that people had started making it in Iberistan and Strivalia, but she had never had the opportunity to see it in person.
Once the shock of seeing this new material had subsided, Rose began to analyze what was actually on the paper. It was a sketch of one of the inn¡¯s rooms. Rose had cleaned that room so many times that she could recognize it instantly despite the picture¡¯s many flaws. The young woman analyzed every little detail of the picture. The more she stared at the book, the closer she felt to the artist that made it. In that instant, Rose wanted nothing more than to meet the person who created this image.
¡°I think you have my sketchbook¡¡± The pale man said. Rose¡¯s heart skipped a beat. She felt a warm feeling rush through her body. There were a million things she wanted to tell him and a million more that she wanted to ask him.
¡°I uh¡ it was on tuh-the floor¡¡± she said as she handed the book back to him.
¡°Oh. It must have fallen on the floor during that little kerfuffle back there,¡± he said as he took the book and returned it to his pocket.
¡°I¡¯ll come back in a little bit; give you some time to decide what you would like to eat,¡± Rose said as she failed to make eye-contact to the man she was speaking to.
¡°That¡¯s fine. We haven¡¯t decided yet,¡± The man replied. Rose turned around and exited the room. Once the door behind her closed, Rose inhaled deeply. She had a hard time processing her feelings. ¡®It¡¯s like he¡¯s some sort of fairy-tale hero¡¡¯ she thought to herself.
On the other side of the door to the little room, Nashorn resumed his plotting. He took one look at the map and instantly determined that it didn¡¯t conflict with the information he had previously been given.
¡°It¡¯s just as Father said,¡± Nashorn declared, ¡°There are three paths up the mountain and to the cave. If we split up into three two-person teams then we should be able to ambush the princess as¡ or I guess I should say, if she returns from the cave regardless of which path she takes.¡± Most of the room nodded in agreement.
¡°I don¡¯t know, I would like to¡ have some fun with the princess before we finish this,¡± Hien? said before letting out a chuckle.
¡°If you¡¯re the one that ambushes her then I don¡¯t really give a damn about what happens as long as you make sure the job is done,¡± Nashorn responded. Hien? sighed.
¡°So you¡¯re saying that there is a two thirds chance that I won¡¯t get to have any fun?¡± She retorted.
¡°I don¡¯t recall your personal satisfaction being on our list of objectives or among any of the instructions I¡¯ve given you,¡± Nashorn growled. The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like an entirety. Eventually Hien? sighed and capitulated.
¡°Fine, I¡¯ll just go with your plan,¡± Hien? muttered. Nashorn nodded in approval, but could help, but feel like Hien? was hiding something.
¡°Well in that case, I guess I shall propose a toast; a toast to the retrieval of the sword and to the death of Princess Alexandra von Adler.¡± Nashorn declared as he raised his cup. The rest of his party raised their drinks as well and together they drank.
Chapter 14
Count Claudius von Brandt woke up at the crack of dawn. He was naked and alone as he pulled the sheets off of himself, rubbed the mucus out of his eyes, and sat up on his bed.
His bedroom was not unlike any other room in the castle. Its walls were bare stone and its furniture was made out of simple wood. The furniture consisted of nothing more than a simple bed, nightstand, a desk, a chair, a rack for storing weapons and armor, and a bookshelf.
In the dim morning light the count was able to look down and examine his body. Despite his frail appearance he had a slim, but muscular and toned physique; especially for a man of his age. The only exception to this was his right leg.
In the count¡¯s current position, anyone could clearly see an asymmetry between his right and left legs. His left leg was just like the rest of his body, but his right leg barely looked human. It was unusually pale and all, but devoid of all muscle; not unlike what one would find on a chicken. Twisted and bulging veins ran up and down the length of the leg and it terminated in a foot with only three toes.
The count instinctively reached for two objects on his nightstand. The first was a strange contraption made out of metal rods and leather straps. The second was a small wooden rod no larger than a spoon.
Count Claudius placed the wooden rod in between his teeth before placing his leg into the leather and metal contraption, which was a leg brace designed and constructed by the count himself. The count inhaled as he prepared for the hard part.
The old man twisted his leg into the leg brace as though he was threading a needle. He bit down on the wooden rod as a sharp pain ran through his leg. He then tightened the brace and bit down on the wooden rod even harder. His eyes closed and his mind drifted towards happier times. There were still a number of complicated and painful actions that needed to be done in order to affix the leg brace to his leg, but that didn¡¯t matter. It was all muscle memory now. After ten minutes of pain, the count let the wooden rod fall from his mouth. He then put it back on his nightstand and got up to begin his morning routine.
Once the count had put his leg brace on he began the day with his exercises. Every other day he would exercise by performing a list of ten or so exercises. He had three of these lists that he would cycle through regularly. Every single exercise consisted of three sets of twenty repetitions each. Today, the count would perform sixty push-ups, sixty sit-ups, sixty dips, sixty military presses, sixty bicep curls, sixty lateral raises, sixty upright rows, sixty bench presses, and sixty leg raises. One of his guards would supervise his bench presses and on the fifth day of the week he would perform a different set of exercises for his left leg.
When the count was done with his exercises, he would bathe, an action that would require him to remove his leg brace and reattach it when he was done.
Once the count had dressed himself and reattached his leg brace, there was one more activity he had to do before he would allow himself to have breakfast; one that he did every day.
¡°What do you mean he is praying? It¡¯s the Day of Thunder1,¡± Alexandra asked. She was standing in the banquet hall of Brandt castle alongside Adrian and Ekkehardt.
¡°It¡¯s just something he does every day,¡± Adrian said with a shrug, ¡°He is rather religious.¡±
Alexandra looked at Adrian quizzically. She wasn¡¯t as well-versed in all of the gossip of the imperial and Alemanian nobility as her brother was, but she knew that the nobility cared very little about religion or the church. Being ¡®rather religious¡¯ by the standards of the nobility really only meant going to church once a week and not cheating on your spouse at every given opportunity. Unlike the peasantry, they cared very little about the actual tenets of the faith. Alexandra figured that this was probably due to the fact that the nobility were far more aware of church internal politics and corruption.
¡°Oh. I wasn¡¯t aware of that,¡± Alexandra responded. She tried not to sound like she was skeptical of Adrian¡¯s claim, but she feared that she was unsuccessful.
¡°My liege isn¡¯t like his ancestors, your highness,¡± Adrian remarked.
¡°I didn¡¯t mean to imply that he was, sir,¡± Alexandra replied. Suddenly a voice chimed in from behind Alexandra.
¡°You didn¡¯t mean to imply what?¡± it asked. Alexandra turned around to see Count Claudius standing behind her.
¡°Oh, it was nothing,¡± Adrian interjected, ¡°His highness wanted to ask you some questions before he left for Weisshart.¡± The count turned his gaze to Alexandra.
¡°What did you want to ask me, your highness?¡± The count asked. Alexandra inhaled.
¡°I just wanted to know about your relationship with ¡®Cedric of Sortpool¡¯. I believe he is one of the people in that painting you have on the wall,¡± Alexandra explained as she pointed to the painting of Cedric and the count¡¯s family.
A flash of confusion appeared on the count¡¯s face, only to be quickly replaced by sadness. He turned away from Alexandra and towards the man in the painting. Alexandra joined him. She tried to memorize every little detail of the man, such as his sharp chin or short green cloak, but she could help, but gravitate towards his eyes.
¡°Cedric was¡ a friend of my family,¡± The count said, ¡°He was originally a nobleman from Ivernistan2. He was supposedly from a very good family and was set up to marry a niece of the Ivernistani tanist3, but that all fell apart when the Jutticans4 invaded and he was forced to flee to Metrovingia. He then traveled to Reme with a small group of Ivernistani noblemen and tried to get patriarch Benevolent the eighth to help him retake his holdings and get the Jutticans out of his country. The patriarch refused, so Cedric got angry and called him an atheist, a homosexual, and a pedophile. All of those accusations were probably true, but that didn¡¯t stop Benevolent from excommunicating Cedric. He ended up in my father¡¯s court, because we were the only ones who would accept him. He had an Alemanian grandmother that he was close to while he was growing up, so he understood our language pretty well and we all got along. Eventually he asked for my sister¡¯s hand in marriage and my father accepted. He was a good man,¡± Count Claudius explained.
¡°Was?¡± Alexandra repeated.
¡°He was killed during the Time of Red Snow,¡± The count answered. Alexandra scratched her chin.
¡°I don¡¯t believe that I read anything about that event,¡± Alexandra inquired. The count¡¯s voice became more morose as he continued to stare at the painting.
¡°Well, I can¡¯t say that I am surprised that the scribes in the capital don¡¯t write about it. It¡¯s what we call a series of wars we had with the Bergman tribes fifty years ago. I wouldn¡¯t be able to explain to you all of the nuance and minutia of Bergman culture, history, and politics if I had all day, but what you need to know is that there was some sort of upheaval among their people and there were several smaller tribes that ended up on the wrong side of it. They were systematically hunted out of their territory in the steppe and, with nowhere left to go, they tried to conquer Nordfell. We fought back and we won¡ eventually. As for what it was like to live through.. that¡¯s¡ very difficult to describe to someone who wasn¡¯t there,¡± Count Claudius responded.
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¡°I think I can understand. I¡¯ve read my fair share of history,¡± Alexandra said.
¡°My liege, I¡¡± Adrian interjected.
¡°Your highness, when was the last time you¡¯ve eaten bark or moss?¡± The count asked. Alexandra was unsure how to respond.
¡°I¡ I can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever done that¡'''' She remarked.
¡°I have, many times,¡± The count explained, ¡°When the Bergmen invaded, they didn¡¯t fight us in open battle like how a Yerbian or Osminite army would. Instead, they would hide in the forests, ambush small groups of soldiers and baggage trains, loot villages, and destroy or steal any crops or livestock they could find. Because of this (and a few bad harvests) we had to get creative when it came to food. We would dry out the soft, inner bark of trees, grind it down along with moss, and then add it to flour so that we could make more bread. The end result was a pale green bread that crumbled easily. It was one of the worst things I¡¯ve ever tasted, but being able to eat it every day was an immense privilege; one that not everyone had.¡±
¡°I¡¯m so sorry that you and your people had to go through that. I can¡¯t believe that the scribes in K?nigsstadt never wrote about this.¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°That is probably because nobody in K?nigsstadt ever cared about what happened here,¡± The count lamented, ¡°My father and I both formally requested aid from Emperor Arnold and we received no response.¡±
Alexandra felt a wave of what could only be described as second-hand remorse flow through her. Yes, Ostermania was waging a war with Metrovingia at the time, but surely they could have spared some food for Nordfell.
¡°Anyways, Cedric was killed during that time. My father, brother, and sister were killed as well,¡± The count said as he walked up to the painting. He placed his hand on the wall right next to the painting, ¡°I had to finish what they started.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss, sir,¡± Ekkehardt chimed in, ¡°But, if you don¡¯t mind me asking, your treatment of these people seems rather lenient. They were the cause of so much suffering, and yet we saw many of them milling about in Neustadt during our time here as though they were any other people of the empire. I think most people would have wiped out those heathens by now.¡± The count then turned to Ekkehardt.
¡°I don¡¯t believe that the scripture would support such an endeavor. Furthermore, the Bergmen aren¡¯t bad people. Their invasion of Nordfell was brought about by factors that were far beyond their control and many of them helped us rebuild after their defeat. Their men are some of the best light cavalry in the world and they serve me by patrolling the eastern pass. Many of their people have learned Alemanian and adopted our way of life. Some of them even accepted our religion and married into Yerbian families,¡± The count argued. Suddenly the door opened and two men entered the hall. They were both dressed like soldiers, but they had nothing else in common.
The first man was short, pale and had a rather prominent gut. A long scar ran down the right down side of his face and his right eye was covered with a black eyepatch. On the left side of his face a beady little blue eye examined Alexandra and Ekkehardt. Below that, Alexandra could see a small scar extending out from the corner of his mouth and into his left cheek. He was bald and carried a one-handed sword on his belt and a small crossbow on his back.
The man beside him was tall and in much better shape. His skin was tan and his hair, which was cut short, was black peppered with the occasional white hair. Alexandra could tell that he came somewhere from the south of Yerb, from one of the Samudaayian countries. Unlike his companion, who was clean-shaven, he sported a short, neatly trimmed beard. He was armed with a scimitar5 and carried four jarids6 on his back.
¡°Count Claudius, I am happy to report that, just as my calculations predicted, we¡¯ve completed the final preparations on time. We are now ready to leave and join up with Mr. Schwartzbaum¡¯s group in Weisshart,¡± the tan-skinned man said. Despite being a foreigner, he spoke Alemanian clearly and without a heavy accent.
¡°Excellent,¡± The count replied. The bald man then turned his eye to Alexandra and Ekkehardt.
¡°So, you¡¯re the men we will be escorting to Weisshart?¡± he asked.
¡°Yes,¡± Ekkehardt answered, ¡°I am Sir Ekkehardt Lowe and this is my associate Sir Alf Neuman,¡± He said as he gestured towards Alexandra. The bald man smiled showing a set of yellow crooked teeth.
¡°Ah. I am Mr. Schwartzbaum¡¯s second in command, Robert of Greenshire, fifth son of Earl George of Greenshire in Juttica, but you can just call me Bob,¡± He said before turning and gesturing towards his companion, ¡°...and this here is Fahim7 ibn Faruq8, our quartermaster.¡±
¡®First ¡®Cedric¡¯ and now ¡®Bob¡¯? The people of the northwest islands have such strange names,¡¯ Alexandra thought to herself.
¡°Pleasure to meet you,¡± Fahim said as he looked towards Alexandra and Ekkehardt. The two of them reciprocated his greeting and shook the hands of both Bob and Fahim.
¡°So, are we ready to go?¡± Bob asked. Alexandra was about to say ¡®yes,¡¯ when Count Claudius interjected.
¡°Actually, there is one thing I wanted to speak to these men about in private before they departed,¡± the count explained. The two men nodded their heads and left the room. Count Claudius then turned to Alexandra.
¡°Prince Alexander, there is something I need to explain to you before you leave,¡± The count began. Alexandra nodded her head.
¡°I said earlier that my family was killed during the Time of Red Snow, but the story isn¡¯t as simple as that.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡± Ekkehardt replied. The count cleared his throat. Alexandra could see a deep sadness in his eyes.
¡°When I told you about the Time of Red Snow, I spoke mostly about the famine and the Bergmen and while it is true that the Bergmen did kill my father, they weren¡¯t responsible for killing Cedric or the rest of my family,¡± Claudius explained.
¡°Someone else killed your siblings?¡± Alexandra asked. The count looked her in the eyes.
¡°Not someone, something,¡± He answered, ¡°I don¡¯t know if it was something the Bergmen did, something we did, or if it was just - attracted to our collective misery, but somehow a moonman was summoned into Nordfell. The hunger, the violence, the terror; Nordfell during the Time of Red Snow must have been like some sort of paradise for it, though even a paradise wasn¡¯t enough for it,¡± The count said before taking a brief pause.
¡°The moonman wasn¡¯t satisfied by the suffering our little war could produce. Streams running red with blood, villages burning, emaciated children dying by the side of the road; it just wasn¡¯t enough for it. The moonman wanted to make us suffer more - no; it wanted to make us suffer as much as possible. Not just us, but the Bergmen too. It treated human beings as its own play-things. One night it levitated a group of Bergman soldiers up in the air and impaled them on the trunk of a pine tree. A couple of days after that a hunter and his wife were found nailed to the ceiling of their cottage by dozens of crossbow bolts, knives, and fire pokers. Their bodies were later inspected by a dentist, who found that none of the objects used to puncture their bodies had actually hit a major organ or blood vessel,¡±
¡°If what you¡¯re saying is true then it must have taken them days to die¡¡± Ekkehardt said. He was partially responding to the count and partially thinking out loud. The count nodded his head.
¡°Indeed, but that isn¡¯t the worst thing the moonman was capable of. You see, it was capable of hurting people in two ways: the first was by moving objects with its mind, but the second was¡ it is difficult to explain. This monster, he was able to change people by touching them.¡± Count Claudius explained.
¡°Change them in what way?¡± Alexandra asked. The count inhaled.
¡°When the moonman touched someone, it had the power to alter their physiology. With just a single touch it could turn someone into a writhing mass of flesh that no longer looked human. It didn¡¯t matter who they were, once the process began their body would grow and contort in inhuman ways. First they would lose their ability to move and see, then their intelligence and memories. Soon after that they lost their speech. The only sound they could make once the transformation was complete was a scream. It was a scream without any words or rhythm, but somehow it was apparent to anyone who could hear it that the creature making it was in pain. This would last several hours before they would die,¡± The count explained. He then closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
¡°This was the fate of Cedric of Sortpool¡ and of my sister¡¡± The count concluded. Alexandra was at a loss for words.
¡°I¡I¡¯m¡¡± She began. The count turned to her and stared straight into her eyes. Alexandra could feel his bright sapphire-blue eyes staring directly into her soul.
¡°You don¡¯t need to say it, Prince Alexander. I just need you to promise me one thing¡¡± He said. Alexandra nodded her head. With that signal given, the count began to speak.
¡°When you find that thing in the Frauenwald, kill it. Show it no mercy.¡±
Chapter 15
¡°I think we¡¯re missing something here¡¡± Alexandra quietly said.
¡°Not likely. I triple-checked our bags before we left,¡± Ekkehardt responded. The two of them were riding in a convoy of horses and wagons through the countryside of Nordfell. They were somewhere in the middle of the convoy, but they were given enough room to quietly talk amongst themselves. The second in command, Bob, was leading the convoy, and the quartermaster, Fahim was in the rear. Excluding Alexandra and Ekkehardt, there were about fifty people traveling in the convoy.
Alexandra shook her head.
¡°No, that¡¯s not what I mean,¡± She responded, ¡°I just feel like our timeline doesn¡¯t fit together as neatly as it should. Count Claudius said that there was a moonman in Nordfell during the Time of Red Snow fifty years ago. Given what we know, that makes sense. Moonmen tend to appear during periods of great human suffering and the Time of Red Snow fits that description perfectly.¡±
¡°Okay, what does this have to do with our timeline being off?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Well, the problem is that Count Claudius won the war and restored peace and some level of prosperity to his county. I looked at the tax and crop yield data that Schumacher gave us. According to that data, there was an increase in taxes collected from and crops produced in Nordfell during the years following the Time of Red Snow. Lumber exports also increased during this time. Furthermore, Count Claudius was able to levy a small number of soldiers and send them west to help fight against the Osminite invasion that took place about thirty-five years ago. This trend would continue to the time of the Weisshart murders and through to present day. Our current theory requires the moonman in the Frauenwald to have been created during this period after the Time of Red Snow, but that doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± Alexandra argued.
¡°Well, maybe it came to Nordfell from somewhere else,¡± Ekkehardt suggested. Alexandra shook her head.
¡°I don¡¯t know about that. The rest of the empire was rather prosperous during that time. It might have come from somewhere out in the steppe, but we don¡¯t really know what happens out there, so we can¡¯t prove that an event similar to the Time of Red Snow happened. Furthermore, the steppe is very sparsely populated; barely anyone lives there and those who do are nomads. If moonmen are attracted to high concentrations of human misery, then it would be difficult for that to happen with few people around,¡± Alexandra responded, ¡°Besides, the theory that we are working with here is that Weisshart and the Frauenwald are of particular importance to this thing. That¡¯s why it returned here after all of these years.¡± Ekkehardt scratched his head.
¡°Now that you mention it, there is another issue with all of this: The sword. Pe?ter? Agonic?, the cave that this sword is supposedly in, is pretty close to Weisshardt and the Frauenwald. Why would the moonman chose to hide in place so close to a weapon that is built for killing it?¡± Ekkehardt pondered.
¡°Maybe it didn¡¯t know about the sword?¡± Alexandra suggested.
¡°Unlikely. If this area is of some importance to the Cursemaker, then surely it must have been very well acquainted with it and known about the sword. Maybe it¡¯s some sort of trap,¡± Ekkehardt responded, ¡°People say that Pe?ter? Agonic? is very dangerous. Perhaps the Cursemaker made it that way and used the sword as bait to lure people in.¡±
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¡°I don¡¯t think so. First off, if the Cursemaker wants to create as much human suffering as possible, then surely he would have better ways of doing it than putting a trap in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Second, we don¡¯t actually know if the Cursemaker is capable of these things. The only power we know he has is the ability to command people to do his bidding,¡± Alexandra argued.
¡°Well, if it¡¯s not a trap and it¡¯s not a mistake, then what is it?¡± Ekkehardt pondered. Suddenly, a thought shot through Alexandra¡¯s head.
¡®Perhaps it wishes for death. Perhaps it wants someone to go into the cave, take the sword, and use the sword to kill it,¡¯ she thought. Alexandra then shook her head without saying anything, ¡®No, that doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡¯
The road turned to the left and suddenly a strange sight came into Alexandra¡¯s view. To the right of the road the forest had given way to a shallow, man-made depression. It was similar to a quarry, but not nearly as deep. The depression couldn¡¯t have been more than one or two imperial paces below the ground that Alexandra¡¯s horse was standing on. Alexandra estimated that it was roughly thirty imperial paces wide and thirty imperial paces long. The entirety of this pit was filled with large black stones that jutted out of the ground like trees. Each one of them was incredibly reflective, not unlike a mirror. It took her a second, but Alexandra was able to figure out what this place was.
Ekkehardt couldn¡¯t help, but turn his head towards the depression. Without Ekkehardt doing anything else to signal his curiosity to Alexandra, the young princess detected his concern and began to speak up.
¡°I believe this was once a site that Count Claudius¡¯ father used to mine obsidian,¡± Alexandra explained.
¡°Oh. So this pit must have been dug for arrowhead production,¡± Ekkehardt replied. Alexandra shook her head.
¡°No. I don¡¯t think that was the case. The count¡¯s father wanted to start making obsidian mirrors and exporting them to the rest of the empire. His plan was to provide a cheaper alternative to the metal mirrors that were in use at the time. This whole plan would unfortunately fall apart. I had read that this was due to the fact that glass-makers in Strivalia discovered a cheaper way to make good quality mirrors with lead glass around that time, but I now think that the Time of Red Snow might have had something to do with it,¡± Alexandra responded. She then turned back to Ekkehardt.
¡°Where is this talk of arrowheads coming from?¡±
¡°Oh, that¡¯s just because of some anecdote my father told Siegfried and I about during one of our archery lessons. If I remember correctly, during the last Osminite invasion, the sultan¡¯s army besieged the capital of Remina. The city¡¯s garrison received some reinforcements and supplies from Nordfell and that included a few hundred arrows. Unfortunately, most of these arrows had obsidian arrowheads, which made them nearly useless against the Osminites,¡± Ekkehardt explained.
¡°Wait, why would they be useless? An arrow is an arrow,¡± Alexandra interjected. Ekkehardt shook his head.
¡°No, not exactly. An obsidian arrowhead will shatter upon contact with most types of armor. When dealing with iron arrowheads, there are a lot of variables that you have to factor in when determining whether or not it can puncture armor, such as range and armor type, but generally you get significantly more utility out of iron-headed arrows than obsidian-headed ones. Now, the majority of the Osminite army had some form of armor, so any obsidian arrows that got shot at them were about as effective as a strongly-worded letter of complaint.¡± Ekkehardt elaborated.
¡°Hm¡ Maybe they repurposed many of their unsold obsidian mirrors into arrowheads during the Time of Red Snow? You can do that, right?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Yeah, I think that would be possible. It would make sense, especially if the Bergmen they were fighting didn¡¯t wear any armor. They must have run out of iron-headed arrows and resorted to using obsidian. The arrows sent to Remina might have just been what they had left over from that time,¡± Ekkehardt posited.
Alexandra¡¯s horse passed by a large slab of obsidian sticking out close to the road. As she passed by the stone slab Alexandra stared at her dark and murky reflection; deep in thought as questions shot through her head. What other secrets were hiding in Nordfell? Was Cedric of Sortpool the person Count Claudius said he was? Was she strong enough to find the truth?
Chapter 16
¡°Okay, here it is!¡± Rose announced as she led Nashorn and his party to a large gray structure. They walked together as one mob; with no sort of marching order or formation. To the casual observer, they appeared to be nothing more than a group of friends walking down the road. The largest member of the group, Nied?wied?, pulled an empty hand-cart behind him with one of his hands gently gripping one of its two handles.
The structure before them was the ruins of what was once a rectangular building. Though much of the building, including the roof and much of the walls, was gone, it was apparent that the building was big enough to house around five hundred people standing shoulder to shoulder.
¡°I can¡¯t believe it; a real Reman ruin, all this way from Reme!¡± Sova exclaimed. His eyes were open wide as he stared at the structure. He walked up to what remained of the building, a series of gray arches made of some sort of strange stone-like material, and reached out to touch it with his bare hand. On the top of one of the arches the words ¡®FLAVIUS JULIUS AURELIAN¡¯ were chiseled into the building material and still very much readable.
¡°It¡¯s amazing. Judging from the design, I¡¯d say that it was from the late imperial era, probably after the reforms of¡¡± Sova thought aloud only to be cut off by Hien?.
¡°Who gives a shit? It¡¯s just some old building!¡± She complained.
¡°That¡¯s the point!¡± Sova responded as he glared at his companion, ¡°It was built centuries, maybe even a millennia ago and yet it¡¯s still here! That alone is amazing!¡±
Hien? simply rolled her eyes.
¡°What is this place made out of, anyways? I¡¯ve never seen building material like this before,¡± Nashorn asked.
¡°It¡¯s something called ¡®concrete¡¯. The Remans used it for all sorts of buildings. From what I understand, it¡¯s supposed to be some sort of aggregate of multiple building materials all mixed together, though nobody has been able to produce it for centuries,¡± Sova explained.
¡°I see¡¡± Nashorn responded.
¡°It¡¯s a truly remarkable substance and also one of the few Reman innovations that was entirely Reman,¡± Rose remarked.
¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Nashorn asked.
¡°Well, from what my grandfather said, the Remans weren¡¯t really great at creating new things on their own. Most of their success was due to their ability to co-opt and improve upon the stuff that other people made,¡± Rose elaborated. Thankfully, she was able to stop herself from repeating her grandfather¡¯s exact words, which were: ¡®Lemme tell you this: our ancestors, the Remans, were great at taking things from other people (mostly the Hellastanis) and improving them. We took phalanxes and made them into legions by making them more flexible, we took columns and made them into arches by putting two of them together, and we took orgies and made them better by letting women participate.¡¯
¡°Well, I don¡¯t care whether or not it was entirely their work. It¡¯s still here and that¡¯s something I respect,¡± Sova said.
¡°I don¡¯t think that you¡¯re entirely wrong. I do agree that the fact that the ruins lasted this long is impressive, but I think that what is more important is their beauty. If they weren¡¯t beautiful, then they wouldn¡¯t provide any benefit to anyone. They would just be an eyesore,¡± Rose responded. Sova shook his head.
¡°I don¡¯t know how to say this without sounding like a very pessimistic person, but I think that we live in a world where people quickly die and are quickly forgotten. I don¡¯t want to end up like that and I have respect for anyone who refuses to be forgotten,¡± Sova stated.
¡°What do you mean by ¡®refuses to be forgotten¡¯?¡± Rose asked.
¡°I mean, that the Remans are long gone, but we still know about them thanks to what they¡¯ve left behind. The guy who had this place built, Flavius Julius Aurelian, he¡¯s probably been dead for centuries. We will never meet him, or his children, or his children¡¯s children, but we still know that he was here thanks to this ruin; thanks to that name right up there on that arch,¡± Sova argued as he pointed to the words chiseled into the concrete, ¡°In that way, he has achieved some level of immortality. I don¡¯t know if he was a good person or a bad person, but I know he was here. I want to be like that!¡± Sova said, speaking loudly and passionately.
¡°Sova, you¡¯re doing it again,¡± Nashorn said.
¡°Huh? Oh, sorry about that,¡± Sova replied. A confused look formed on Rose¡¯s face as she tried to process exactly how the conversation got to this point. Zimija leaned up next to Rose and spoke to her.
¡°Don¡¯t worry about him, he just gets this way whenever he starts talking about architecture,¡± She explained.
¡°Oh¡¡± Rose said. ¡®He must be like how I am with art,'''' she thought to herself.
¡°So, you want to be an architect and build buildings?¡± Rose asked. Sova nodded.
¡°Yes. I would like to study architecture and design buildings after we¡¡± Sova said before stopping himself mid-sentence ¡°... someday. I would like to do that someday.¡±
¡°Well, I think that¡¯s wonderful and I hope you¡¯re able to do that!¡± Rose replied with a warm smile. The group then continued walking for a few minutes, only to be stopped by a fork in the road.
¡°I think this is where we go our separate ways. The path on the right will take you to Weisshart and the path on the left leads to Pomodoro,¡± Rose explained.
¡°Thanks for leading us here,¡± Nashorn replied. Rose smiled.
¡°It wasn¡¯t a big deal. Honestly, I should be thanking Nied?wied? for pulling my handcart for me,¡± Rose responded.
¡°I¡¯m just happy to repay you for the food we had last night, Ms. Rose. It was the best!¡± Nied?wied? replied enthusiastically. He had a smile on his face. It was large and sincere; almost innocent. He then pulled the cart closer to Rose, who took it from him. Unlike Nied?wied?, Rose used both of her hands and a non-negligible amount of energy to pull the cart. Rose and the rest of the group began to go their separate ways when suddenly Rose spoke up.
¡°Uh¡ Nashorn¡¡± She called. The whole group stopped in their tracks and turned to look at her.
¡°I was uh¡ I was thinking that maybe¡ maybe when you guys are done with your work in Weisshart you could uh¡ come back to the inn, maybe? We¡¯d love to have you back,¡± Rose stammered out as her knees began to shake a little.
¡°It depends on how our work goes, but you can consider it a possibility,¡± Nashorn replied. Rose smiled once again. With that, Rose and the group said their goodbyes and parted ways. Nashorn walked down the road as he thought about the events of the previous night.
The previous day
¡°Alright, sounds like we all know where we¡¯re going to be and what we¡¯re going to do when the princess enters the cave,¡± Nashorn said as he folded up a large map and placed it into a bag, ¡°Any more questions?¡± he asked. The five of them shook their heads. They were sitting in the little room, reviewing the plan one more time before Rose returned to take their orders.
¡°So uh, does anyone know what they serve here? I¡¯m actually really hungry right now¡¡± Zmija asked.
¡°I hope they have pierogi¡¡± Nied?wied? said to himself as his stomach rumbled. He had consumed seven-eighths of his vodka and was still neither full nor inebriated.
¡°That girl smelled like she was a Strivalian, so I doubt it,¡± Hien? remarked. Zmija winced slightly. She had seen Hien? make judgements about people based on their scent many times before, but something about her ability to do that still made Zmija feel uncomfortable.
¡°I believe this place is run by Strivalians, so I guess that it would make sense that they serve that kind of food here,¡± Sova pointed out.
¡°Has anyone here actually had Strivalian food before?¡± Nashorn asked. Everyone shook their heads. A few eyes darted around the room as they tried to figure out what to do next. It was at this point when Rose re-entered the room.
¡°Hello everyone, have you figured out what you would like to order?¡± She asked. She seemed a little happier than when they had last seen her.
¡®Getting slipped a few Alexanders will probably do that to you¡¡¯ Nashorn thought to himself.
¡°I¡¯m afraid not,¡± Sova answered, ¡°We might need a little more time. Also, do you think you could tell us what exactly you serve here?¡±
¡°No problem, We mainly serve Strivalian food, but also have a small selection of Alemanian meals for you, such as goulash, schnitzel, j?gerschnitzel, and a few other things. We also sell these bratwursts in long bread rolls, but that¡¯s only for lunchtime. What we are really known for is our Strivalian food,¡± Rose explained.
¡°Strivalian food?¡± Nied?wied? responded.
¡°Yes, it is a type of cuisine that is truly unlike anything else in the world. Even the way that we enjoy our food is different. We typically emphasize lunch over breakfast and supper and we have a small fourth meal called ¡®merenda¡¯ in between lunch and supper. Our lunches and suppers are also more elaborate than those eaten by other people; typically they have four courses¡¡± Rose rambled on, only to be cut off by Zmija.
¡°Four courses?!¡± she exclaimed. There was a vibrant spark in her eyes and a wide grin had formed on her face.
¡°Uh¡ yes¡ is that a problem?¡± Rose asked. Zmija shook her head. Nied?wied? and Hien? were equally excited by the prospect of a four course meal.
¡°I think this is an interesting concept,¡± Sova said, ¡°But, I still don¡¯t actually know anything about Strivalian food. What can you tell me about it?¡±
¡°Well, we tend to incorporate a lot of olive oil, cheese, fresh tomatoes, garlic, and wine into our cooking. Oh, and we can¡¯t forget about pasta! We have dozens of different types of pasta; spaghetti, lasagna, macaroni, pizzoccheri, agnolini, ravioli, casoncelli¡¡± Rose said before going on to list off a long list of pasta types, ¡°...and I believe that¡¯s all of them. It¡¯s basically one of our staple foods.¡±
¡°...I see¡¡± Sova leaked out. He was slumped over onto the table with one palm dug into his cheek. The rest of the group was in a similar position, but Rose was oblivious to their body language. An audible growl could be heard from Nied?wied?¡¯s stomach.
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¡°Do you think you could just get us something that would be a good introduction to Strivalian food?¡± Nashorn asked.
¡°A good introduction to Strivalian food?¡± Rose repeated. Then something suddenly clicked into her brain. ¡°I know just the thing!¡± She exclaimed. Without any further ado she exited the little room and got right to work. The room was silent for a brief moment, but this silence was broken when Hien? spoke up.
¡°And here I thought that killing that Lowe guy was going to be the hardest part of this job. I was this close to snapping that bitch¡¯s neck,¡± She said while holding her index finger a mere hair¡¯s breadth away from her thumb. Sova and Zmija laughed while Farkash allowed a small grin to form on his face. This was all short lived, as they all quickly remembered exactly who was speaking and what that person was capable of.
A little under one half-hour later, Rose entered the little room holding a serving tray with multiple bowls on it. When she placed the bowls on the table, Nashorn could see that they were filled with a sort of creamy rice and small bits of gray mushrooms. The individual rice grains were short and fat and Nashorn could see both little green chopped chives and bits of shallots in the bowl.
¡°What is this?¡± Sova asked as he gazed into his bowl.
¡°It¡¯s called ¡®risotto¡¯. It¡¯s a sort of creamy rice-based dish. This particular one has portabella mushrooms in it,¡± Rose explained.
¡°Is this all we¡¯re getting?¡± Nied?wied? asked as a frown began to form on his face.
¡°Oh, no! This is just the first course,¡± Rose responded, ¡°The main course will be coming up in a few minutes. For now how about you just tell me what you think of the risotto?¡±
Without further ado, the group began to eat the risotto. It was hot and creamy, but rather bland. The principal ingredients, the rice and the mushrooms, weren¡¯t exactly something that could hold a dish together on their own in terms of taste, but, with that having been said, Nashorn couldn¡¯t really call the risotto unpleasant. There was a slight hint of melted cheese mixed in there. It was rather subtle, but tasteful. By the time they were halfway through, neither Nashorn nor anyone else in the group could deny that they felt a warm and filling feeling in their stomachs.
¡°What do you think?¡± Rose asked. Nashorn nodded in approval.
¡°Very good,¡± He said. A smile lit up on Rose¡¯s face.
¡°Wonderful!¡± She responded, ¡°In that case you¡¯re going to absolutely love the next course.¡±
Ten minutes later, Rose wheeled a cart with six dishes covered in metal cloches on them into the little room. She passed them around and then instructed the group to simultaneously lift up the cloches to reveal their food. As Nashorn reached over to touch the cloche, he found it warm to the touch. Upon lifting it up, he found a strange dish before him. It was a circular piece of flat, but leavened bread topped with melted mozzarella cheese, onions, white mushrooms, and red circular slivers of what appeared to be meat cut from some sort of sausage. The edges of the slivers of meat curled upward; each of them forming a short, inverted dome. Towards the edges of the dish, Nashorn could see a red paste peeking out from underneath the melted cheese.
¡°What is this?¡± Nashorn asked.
¡°It¡¯s called ¡®pizza¡¯. It¡¯s quite possibly one of our greatest dishes. You eat by cutting it through its center four times in order to cut out eight slices.¡± Rose explained.
¡°Oh, you mean like a pie?¡± Sova asked. Rose nodded her head in approval.
¡°Yeah, like a pie,¡± Rose answered. Nashorn pulled out his knife and took a fork from the table before cutting his pizza into eight roughly equal slices. He then set down his utensils and picked up a slice of pizza by its outer crust. Nashorn bit into this strange food and instantly felt a wonderful sensation in his mouth. The melted cheese, the red paste (which had turned out to be tomato sauce), the bread, and the slices of meat all came together in a heavenly combination of flavors. In that moment, Nashorn was transfixed. He did not speak. He did not think. All that he could do was consume the intoxicating food before him. Nashorn had finished his third slice before his senses had returned to him. Nashorn took a sip of ale and surveyed the room. His companions were all as enraptured by this dish as he was. Zmija was practically inhaling her pizza slice by slice while Nied?wied? had ignored all of Rose¡¯s instructions and was eating the pizza without cutting it up first. Instead, the large man simply grabbed the food, folded it like a gyro in his hand and attacked it with his mouth. The rest of the group were a little bit more reserved in their reactions to the pizza, but it was clear that they enjoyed it.
¡®Woah,¡¯ Nashorn thought to himself, ¡®Farkash rarely smiles for anything and I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen Hien? enjoy eating something that wasn¡¯t still alive this much. They all look so happy¡¡¯
A small smile formed on Nashorn¡¯s face, only to be crushed by a sudden wave of anxiety. Was Zmija mouth open a little too wide? Was Nied?wied?¡¯s strength a little too apparent? Had that girl caught on the fact that something about the group was a little off?
¡°Uh, sir?¡± Rose asked. Nashorn instantly sobered up and turned to face the girl.
¡°Yes?¡± Nashorn responded.
¡°Are you enjoying your pizza?¡± she inquired. Nashorn nodded his head.
¡°Yes, It¡¯s wonderful¡ I only wish I had tried it sooner,¡± Nashorn answered. There was nothing in her tone or body language that would suggest that she was afraid or even suspicious.
¡®She suspects nothing,¡¯ Nashorn thought to himself, ¡®Maybe I was a little paranoid.¡¯ This statement might have been true, but that was irrelevant due to one simple fact that Nashorn was unaware of: Rose had been staring at him and him alone during the past few minutes.
¡°Excellent,¡± Rose said with a smile on her face, ¡°As part of the main course, we also have some salad and breadsticks.¡± She then took two bowls from her cart and placed them on the table. One contained a salad consisting of lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and shredded cheese while the other contained long and narrow sticks of bread that were slathered with a combination of melted butter and garlic sauce before being dusted with a layer of cheese that had been so finely grated that it was a flour-like powder.
Rose passed around some extra bowls and plates for the salad and breadsticks. Nashorn helped himself to these sides and found himself pleasantly surprised.
¡°So¡ uh, sir¡¡± Rose asked.
¡°Yes?¡± Nashorn responded.
¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what is your name?¡± Rose inquired.
¡°Nashorn.¡± answered out of politeness.
¡°Oh, what about your surname?¡± She asked.
¡®Wait, why does this girl care about my name? Is she on to something?¡¯ Nashorn thought.
¡°Don¡¯t have one. It¡¯s just Nashorn,¡± The white-haired man responded. For some reason, Rose appeared to be content with this answer. This surprised Nashorn as he didn¡¯t expect her to believe him, even if it was the truth.
¡°Okay, Mr. Nashorn. My name is Rosalba Artemisia Zimmerman, but everyone just calls me Rose,¡± The young woman replied. Nashorn nodded. He was still a little confused by this girl¡¯s actions, but she hadn¡¯t done anything that would suggest that she was suspicious of his group or working for some sort of third party. There was a brief pause, followed by Rose speaking up once again.
¡°Um¡ Mr. Nashorn, is it okay if I ask you a question?¡± Rose asked. In his mind, Nashorn ran through all of the lies that he had prepared for his current mission. If anyone questioned him, he had a perfectly reasonable, innocent, and acceptable answer. He knew why he was in Nordfell, who had sent him, and what he was supposed to be doing. He could tell someone these lies as though they were simple, objective, facts. He even had documents that would corroborate his story.
¡°Sure,¡± Nashorn responded. Nashorn prepared to tell this woman a lie about who he was or what he was doing there, but what came out of her mouth was something that he could have never seen coming.
¡°Mr. Nashorn, why do you look so strange?¡± Rose asked. She spoke without any animosity in her voice, as though she was asking a friend how their day had been. The rest of the group stopped what they were doing and stared at Rose. A dead silence fell over the room.
Sova inhaled deeply as he stared at Nashorn and Rose with a great deal of anxiety. He, along with almost everyone else in the room, knew that the last three people who made any sort of remark about Nashorn¡¯s appearance did not live to tell about his reaction. Yes, the last time this had happened was quite a while ago, but a precedent is a precedent.
¡°Why do you want to know? Do you have a problem with the way I look?¡± Nashorn replied as his cold red eyes stared into her warm brown ones. His heart rate remained steady, but his muscles began to tense up. He was like an animal about to pounce on his prey.
¡°I¡ I just never saw another person who looked like you before. And I don¡¯t have a problem with the way you look. I actually think you look pretty¡¡± Rose blurted out.
¡°What?¡± Nashorn spat back.
¡°I mean you look like a Reman statue; like elegant white marble! I think that¡¯s pretty!¡± Rose responded as her heart beat out of her chest. Nashorn paused for a few seconds before giving a response.
¡°I have a skin condition called albinism. My body does not produce pigment like everyone else''s does. That¡¯s why my skin is white and my eyes are red,¡± Nashorn explained. He felt a heaviness in his heart as he spent a moment thinking about the things he didn¡¯t share with her: the years he spent in total darkness, the surgery that restored his vision, the sting of the eye drops he took every night.
¡°If your body can¡¯t produce pigment, then why are your eyes red? Shouldn¡¯t they be white?¡± Rose asked.
¡°I was told that¡¯s because of the blood vessels in my eyes. In other people there would be pigment there that would be more prominent than the blood,¡± Nashorn answered.
¡°You mean like a little drop of red paint in a big dollop of brown or blue paint?¡± Rose asked. Nashorn nodded.
¡°Yeah, like that,¡± He replied.
¡°I have another question, Mr. Nashon¡ if you don¡¯t mind¡¡± Rose asked.
¡®Well, she already asked me about my skin. I guess it can¡¯t get much worse from here,¡¯ Nashorn thought.
¡°Sure,¡± he said.
¡°I saw that you had a sketchbook. Do you mind if I look at it?¡± She asked. Nashorn shrugged and produced the black, leather-bound sketchbook. He then handed it to Rose, who began to scan every page. The rest of the world began to disappear around her as flipped through the pages; taking in every minute detail.
¡°This is very good. Who taught you how to draw?¡± Rose asked without looking up from the book.
¡°Nobody. I taught myself,¡± Nashorn responded.
¡°That¡¯s incredible!¡± Rose exclaimed, ¡°How long have you been drawing?¡±
¡°About ten years. It started off as part of a treatment for an eye condition I had, but I just kept doing it¡¡±
¡°An eye condition?¡±
¡°Yeah, I had a lazy eye. Part of my treatment was to wear an eye patch over my good eye while drawing something with my bad eye. I guess I just liked drawing¡¡± Nashorn explained.
¡°This is it! This is the one!¡± Rose suddenly exclaimed. She then put the open book on the table and directed Nashorn¡¯s attention to it.
¡°This is supposed to be the room you¡¯re staying in, right?¡± Rose asked.
¡°Yes¡¡± Nashorn answered.
¡°I need to show you something. Do you have a pencil and a straight edge?¡± Rose said, speaking in a tone that was halfway between asking and demanding. She felt like she was acting on impulse; like she wasn¡¯t fully in control of herself. Nashorn gave her a pencil before grabbing the handle of the dagger on his belt. He pulled it out of its scabbard, revealing a misericorde dagger with a long, straight blade and a small handguard. The handle was wrapped in black leather while the pommel was plated in silver and shaped like a human skull.
¡°Thank you,¡± Rose said as she took the pencil and the dagger, ¡°Can I draw here?¡± She asked as she pointed to the blank page next to Nashorn¡¯s drawing of the inn room. Nashorn nodded his head.
¡°So, I can see that you were trying to draw the room that you¡¯re staying in right now and you¡¯re doing a pretty good job, but let me show you this trick that will make it look much better,¡± She explained. She then drew a single horizontal line across the page while using Nashorn¡¯s dagger as a straight edge. Rose followed this up by drawing a single dot in the middle of this line and a large rectangle, the center of which was the dot she had drawn previously. Rose then lined up the dagger so that it intersected both the upper right corner of the rectangle and the dot before using that exact angle to draw a line that extended out from the corner of the rectangle to the edge of the page. She then repeated this for every corner of the rectangle. At this point her actions had drawn the attention of everyone in Nashorn¡¯s group.
¡°So, what I am doing here is called ¡®single point perspective¡¯. That line I drew in the beginning was supposed to represent the horizon and the dot in the center of it was supposed to represent something called the ¡®vanishing point¡¯. It¡¯s basically supposed to be the center of your field of vision. If you know what you¡¯re doing then you can use it to create the illusion of depth,¡± Rose explained. She then proceeded to draw the same objects that Nashorn had drawn in his drawing.
¡°The trick to single point perspective is that the vertical lines of objects above or below the vanishing point must all point towards the vanishing point while the horizontal lines of objects to the right or left of the vanishing point must also point to the vanishing point,¡± She explained as she drew a table, chair, and window while using Nashorn¡¯s dagger as a both a straight edge and means of angling lines towards the vanishing point. Nashorn looked at Rose¡¯s hands with amazement. She moved the pencil with a level of speed and elegance that Nashorn had never seen before. After a few minutes she had finished the drawing.
¡°That¡¯s amazing!¡± Sova exclaimed.
¡°That¡¯s a very pretty picture, Ms. Rose!¡± Nied?wied? said.
¡°I never thought I¡¯d live to see the day when someone drew something better than Nashorn¡¡± Zmija muttered as Farkash nodded in approval.
Nashorn looked at the drawing and then looked at Rose.
¡°This picture¡ It has a sort of depth to it that I¡¯ve never seen before...Your linework is incredible¡¡± Nashorn spoke. Rose¡¯s cheeks reddened.
¡°Tuh-thank you¡ I don¡¯t know what to say¡ nobody has ever said anything like this about my art before¡¡± Rose muttered. Her insides felt like they had been transformed into a thick warm paste that was now sloshing about within her.
¡°Do you know more techniques? I¡¯d love to learn more.¡± Nashorn asked.
¡°Well, I also know ¡®two-point perspective¡¯, which is really useful for drawing buildings¡¡± Rose began.
¡°Tell me more¡¡± Nashorn requested.
¡°I¡¯d like to see more, too,¡± Sova chimed in.
¡°Me too. Your drawings are pretty cool, Rose,¡± Zmija added. Rose was about to respond when the door to the little room was violently flung open and a loud noise that turned her blood to ice interrupted her.
Chapter 17
¡°Rose, what are you doing? We need your help out here!¡± Wendel Zimmermann barked. Rose¡¯s face was white as a sheet as she struggled to come up with a response to her father.
¡°I wuh-was just¡ helping out these customers¡¡± She stammered out. Mr. Zimmermann looked towards Rose¡¯s hand and spotted a pencil. He clenched his fist as his blood pressure began to rise.
¡°Are you an imbecile? How many times have I told you to stop bothering the customers with your drawing nonsense?¡± Mr. Zimmermann shouted as he walked towards Rose with his open hand raised and ready to strike his daughter¡¯s face. Rose attempted to speak, but failed to create a single coherent word. Just as Mr. Zimmermann was about to slap Rose, a small brown metal object shot through the air and hit him in the palm of his hand. It lacked the force to break his skin or cause internal bleeding, but it did create a sharp pain that was intense enough to make Mr. Zimmermann stop what he was doing. Wendel Zimmermann¡¯s arm retreated towards his chest as Nashorn began to speak.
¡°I¡¯m sorry sir, but that won¡¯t be necessary. Your daughter was acting as a wonderful host and we all greatly appreciate her company,¡± Nashorn said. His voice was laced with not anger or aggression, but sternness. Neither Mr. Zimmermann nor his daughter were able to easily process what just happened. The exact nature of how Wendel had been injured was both surprising and perplexing enough, but to hear someone say that they actually wanted to be around Rose made Wendel feel like someone just hit him over the head with a hammer.
¡°Uh¡ Okay¡¡± Wendel said before turning to his daughter, ¡°Everything¡¯s okay here, right?¡± he asked. Rose smiled and nodded her head. Wendel then turned around and began to exit the little room. On his way out he was able to barely notice the object that had struck him. It was a small bronze coin that was minted within and circulated throughout the empire. Wendel was able to quickly identify it as a One-Twentieth Copper Piece1, the smallest and least valuable coin in imperial circulation.
Its small size made it, as far as most people were concerned, only slightly more valuable than garbage. There wasn¡¯t much you could buy with just one of them. Wendel always thought they were a stupid idea, something that only existed becuase the emperor wanted his wife and each of his children to have their own coin. As far as he was concerned, that made sense when you had four or five kids, but when you had nine you had to make useless coins like the one-twentieth copper piece just to make sure everyone was included. Normally, whenever he was paid with these coins (usually in fistfulls for rather minor goods and services), he would gripe about it made no sense that so much effort was put into making a coin in honor of Alejandra or whoever, when this brat wasn¡¯t even going to ever have to deal with it, but right now he was more concerned with exactly how this one-twentieth copper piece had hit his hand. He thought he had seen that Nashorn fellow in the corner of his eye doing something with his hands right before the coin hit him, but what? He couldn¡¯t have just flicked it at him. It would take an inhuman amount of strength to flick a coin from that distance with that level of force and an unfathomable degree of dexterity to get it to hit him. Wendel quickly decided that couldn¡¯t be the case. If Nashorn did that it must have been with some sort of sling or some other parlor trick.
Wendel snatched up the coin and pocketed it. Even if it was almost-worthless, it was still money. He then turned to Rose.
¡°I¡¯ll take care of serving the tables. You just keep our guests here entertained,¡± Wendel said to his daughter.
¡°Yes, father,¡± Rose replied with a small smile on her face. She watched her father leave the room and then turned to Nashorn.
¡°Duh-did you just¡¡± She stammered out.
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¡°Did I just what?¡± Nashorn replied. His face was expressionless for a moment. This expressionlessness then gave way to a small, innocent smile.
¡°Didn¡¯t you say something about ¡®two-point perspective¡¯. I would love to hear about that and I think my friends would love to see more of your drawings. We haven¡¯t had much in the way of entertainment for a long time,¡± Nashorn said.
After a moment of unease, Rose decided to put what had just transpired into the back of her mind and took a seat with the others.
Rose would end up spending much of the rest of the day with Nashorn and his group. After teaching Nashorn about two-point perspective, she drew portraits of everyone in Nashorn¡¯s sketchbook. The room was full of laughter as Rose and the group shared stories with each other. Rose¡¯s interactions with the members of the group slowly began to feel more natural and relaxed to her. After a while it didn¡¯t feel like she was talking to customers, but rather something else; something more intimate than that. It almost felt like they were her friends. They never ordered her around or told her to shut up or struck her. They were actually willing to listen to her when she spoke. It was strange, but comforting. It was so comforting that Rose never questioned why Sova had to excuse himself from the room multiple times or why he would whisper something in Nashorn¡¯s ear every time he returned. Rose didn¡¯t care about any of the group¡¯s strange quirks or unexplained idiosyncrasies, because it didn¡¯t really matter to her. She was just happy that she wasn¡¯t alone.
The following day
It had been a half hour since Rose and the group went their separate ways. She had decided to join them earlier that day when she found out that she had to visit the village of Pomodoro to pick up fresh tomatoes for the inn. The first leg of her trip to Pomodoro took her on the same road that lead to Weisshart, so it made sense for them to travel together.
Nashorn¡¯s group had been rather quiet for some time. This silence was only broken when decided to speak up Nied?wied?.
¡°Nas¡ I have to pee. Can we take a break?¡± he asked. Before Nashorn could think about this Zmija chimed in.
¡°Actually, I have to go as well.¡± she said. Nashorn shrugged.
¡°We¡¯ve been traveling for quite some time. I guess a quick break wouldn¡¯t hurt,¡± he replied.
¡°In that case, I think I¡¯ll scout ahead; see how close we are to the next village,¡± Sova announced. Nashorn nodded in approval. Zmija and Nied?wied? began to walk away from the road in separate directions while Sova got behind a large boulder and began to strip. After a minute or two neither Nied?wied? nor Zmija were visible while an owl flew out from behind the boulder and into the sky.
Nashorn, Farkash, and Hien? were left alone on the road. Without anything to say to each other they simply stood in silence. Suddenly, Hien?¡¯s body jerked, as though she had just been shaken awake. In the corner of her eye, she saw a rabbit moving along the side of the road. She began to move towards it almost automatically; no slow or ambivalent movements; she just bolted towards the creature and into the woods. Neither Nashorn nor Farkash had any strong reactions to this behavior.
Once Hien? had disappeared from sight, Farkash began to make eye contact with Nashorn and slowly move towards him
¡°Nas, we need to talk,¡± He said. His voice was deep and serious and his brown eyes stared deep into Nashorn¡¯s red ones.
¡°I¡¯m listening. What is this about?¡± Nashorn responded.
¡°The girl; you were acting soft around her,¡± he said. Nashorn remained expressionless.
¡°That doesn¡¯t mean anything. I was just playing a part.¡± Nashorn explained.
¡°I hope so. You know how it is; us and them¡¡±
¡°Of course I do,¡±
¡°Good. Don¡¯t forget it,¡± Farkash stated. With that he turned away from Nashorn and looked into the part of the forest that Zmija had disappeared into. After a minute or two she emerged from the forest. Nied?wied? followed suit soon after. Then an owl flew down from the sky and landed behind the boulder, right next to a neatly folded pile of men¡¯s clothing. Just as Sova had finished dressing himself, Hien? returned from the forest. She held a rabbit in her mouth as its blood dripped down her chin and onto her neck. Sova relayed his findings to Nashorn, who nodded in approval. They were on the correct road and slightly ahead of schedule.
¡°Alright, are we ready to move on?¡± Nashorn asked his group. Everyone nodded.
¡°Okay, let¡¯s get back to it,¡± Nashorn ordered. The group began walking forward once again. Just as before, they walked in silence.
¡®...Just playing a part¡¡¯ Nashorn thought to himself as his hand reached into his pocket and touched his sketchbook.
Chapter 18
Alexandra crested a hill overlooking a small village. The settlement was nothing more than a collection of modest wooden structures topped with thatch roofs. It had been cut out of the thick forest along with a few meager wheat fields. The village was divided in half by a stream that ran perpendicular to Alexandra¡¯s field of vision. Across the stream, she saw two large structures: a wooden block house and a decrepit stone church. Off in the distance beyond the village a tall, rocky hill loomed in the distance. Nobody had said it yet, but Alexandra knew that she had arrived in Weisshart.
As Alexandra and the rest of the party descended the hill and approached the town, they were greeted by an old man standing on the outskirts of town. He wore brown robes and walked with a wooden cane. Schwartzbaum and his two direct subordinates, Fahim and Bob rode up to this man and began to speak to him, but they were still too far away for Alexandra to make out what they were saying. Eventually, Ekkehart and her were able to close the distance.
¡°...And here they are now,¡± Fahim said as he gestured towards the princess and her bodyguard. The moment the old man spotted Alexandra he adjusted his robes and attempted to correct his posture. When Alexandra approached him, he was just barely able to bow before her.
¡°Good afternoon, your highness. I am Markus Althaus, the village elder of Weisshart. I¡¯m truly honored to be at your service,¡± he said.
¡°Thank you,¡± Alexandra responded. The man rose to look at her. ¡°Are you aware of why I am here today?¡± she asked. Althaus nodded his head.
¡°I¡¯m afraid so, your highness,¡± He answered.
¡°I see. I¡¯m sorry that my visit to your village was under these circumstances, but I¡¯m going to need to finish my work here quickly and to do that I¡¯m going to need your cooperation. I would like to visit the scene of the crime and ask you some questions. Can you do that for me?¡±
¡°That won¡¯t be a problem. I¡¯ll lead you to where it happened and you can ask me any questions you¡¯d like,¡± the old man responded. Althaus began to walk towards the village. Alexandra and her party followed.
¡°First thing I would like to ask: Do you happen to be related to Hugo Althaus?¡± Alexandra asked. There was a brief silence from the village elder.
¡°Yes¡ He was my father¡¡± the man answered.
¡°I see¡ In that case I¡¯m sorry for doing this to you,¡± Alexandra said. The old man took a deep breath.
¡°It¡¯s okay, your highness. It¡¯s been almost three decades since that day. What we¡¯re talking about might as well have happened to another person living in another world,¡± he responded.
¡°I hate to ask this of you, but do you think you could take me to this other world?¡±
¡°I can try.¡±
A few minutes later, Alexandra was standing in the middle of Weisshart. Unlike the bustling Arnold Square that Alexandra had grown up with, this place was a dirt cross road surrounded on all sides by humble little buildings. Out of these buildings, Alexandra was able to immediately identify three of them as a smithy, a bakery, and a butcher''s shop. The rest appeared to be nothing more than houses for villagers, save for the block house and church down the road.
¡°This is where it happened,¡± Althaus said as he looked towards the front door of the bakery. ¡°The building is currently occupied by the Gerst family. They moved here about twenty-five years ago. Prior to that it was occupied by Wulf Becker.¡±
¡°The first victim,¡± Alexandra said, thinking out loud. Althaus nodded.
¡°What did you know about him?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°He was the village baker; about forty years old when he died.¡±
¡°Any family?¡±
¡°He was a widower with one daughter¡ Well, he raised her, but she wasn¡¯t his daughter¡¡±
¡°You¡¯re saying this girl was adopted?¡± Alexandra probed. Althaus winced in discomfort.
¡°No, she is¡ a bastard. The child of another man,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°Wait, she¡¯s still alive? Also how do you know that she was a bastard?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Yes. Her name is Elsa Bauer and she lives down the road in that direction,¡± Althaus replied while gesturing towards a house down the road, ¡°As for how we know she¡¯s a bastard¡ well¡ I think it will be apparent when you talk to her,¡± Alexandra decided not to inquire further about this woman. Alexandra then shifted her attention back to the bakery and Wulf Becker.
¡°So, what else do you know about this, Wulf Becker? Did he have any enemies?¡± Alexandra inquired. Althaus shook his head.
¡°No, Mr. Becker wasn¡¯t that kind of man. As far as I know he mostly got along with everyone. He ran his business fairly, wasn¡¯t much of a drinker, and attended service once a week.¡±
¡°I see. Now, from what I read in the reports of the incident, he was standing in the bakery at around noon when the killer entered the establishment. Is that correct?¡±
¡°Yes, your high¡ I mean yes sir. I believe that the killer was seen entering the village from the Frauenwald, the forest past the church,¡± Althaus explained as he pointed to the dark forest that lay beyond the church and the blockhouse.
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¡°Oh. And who witnessed this?¡± Alexandra asked. Althaus winced.
¡°That would be Father Taggart, our priest. He might know more, but good luck getting anything useful out of him.¡±
¡°Why is that?¡±
¡°Well, some time after the killings he started drinking. We¡¯ve tried to get someone from the church to do something about him, but nothing has happened. The silver lining to this situation is that he¡¯s only a danger to himself.¡±
¡°I see. Going back to the killer; did anyone record what he looked like?¡± Alexandra asked. Althaus scratched his head.
¡°There¡¯s some disagreement over certain details like hair and eye color, but the one thing everyone agrees on is that he was a little short and non-threatening.¡±
¡°Non-threatening?¡±
¡°Yeah. He didn¡¯t look like a bandit or anything like that. He didn¡¯t carry a weapon nor did he act like he didn¡¯t belong here. At first glance, he was just like anyone else.¡±
¡°Okay. So, nobody was alarmed when he entered the village?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°That¡¯s true. We don¡¯t often see people emerge from the Frauenwald, but he was alone and unarmed, so nobody was bothered by it. He would have been seen as an oddity, but not a threat.¡±
¡°Wait, are you saying that there aren¡¯t people that live in the Frauenwald? Aren¡¯t there hunters that live there? Also, what about people that live on the other side of the forest?¡±
¡°Oh, no. All of our hunters live inside the village and there aren¡¯t many settlements to the east of us. There are some small hamlets and I was told that they are building some sort of fortification at the eastern pass, but those people have access to a road that goes around the Frauenwald.¡±
¡°Oh. How come your hunters choose to live outside the forest?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Well, during the Time of Red Snow it was dangerous to go and live outside of a village by yourself. It isn¡¯t perfectly safe now, but back then it was a suicidal move. I guess that sort of thinking just stuck to people¡ well there¡¯s that and the stories¡¡±
¡°The stories?¡± Alexandra repeated.
¡°Oh, just some bullshit, sir. No nicer way to put it. People make up all kinds of stories about that place. When my father was a kid, they said that the forest was full of ghosts. When I was a kid they said that a witch and her familiar lived there. Now they say a moonman is hiding out there. Soon they are going to say that it¡¯s got a dragon, or a werewolf, or some other nonsense. People say the stories are what keep hunters and lumberjacks from going too deep into the forest, but that¡¯s all hogwash. The truth is that you don¡¯t have to go too deep to find game or a tree to cut down.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Alexandra replied, ¡°Do you think we can get back to the killings?¡±
¡°Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Anyways, according to Father Taggart¡¯s testimony, the killer emerged from the Frauenwald, walked past the church and towards the village center. From there he made a left turn, walked past the blacksmith, and entered the bakery,¡± Althaus said as the group retraced the killer¡¯s steps and entered the bakery.
The bakery was by far the most austere bakery Alexandra had ever entered. Unlike the fancy bakeries of K?nigsstadt¡¯s citadel district there were no cakes or pastries; just loaves of brown whole wheat bread displayed on shelves behind a simple wooden countertop. Behind the countertop, Alexandra could see a middle-aged woman with brown hair.
¡°Hello Zita,¡± Althaus said with a smile.
¡°Hello, Mr. Althaus,¡± The woman replied. Althaus then proceeded to walk up to her and whisper something in her ear.
¡°Okay. I don¡¯t think that will be a problem. Xaver and I haven¡¯t changed much since we moved here,¡± She answered. Zita Gerst then left the building.
¡°This is where the witness testimony gets a little fuzzy,¡± Althaus began, ¡°We know the killer entered this bakery, where Wulf Becker and Wilhelm Metzger, the second victim were.¡±
¡°Metzger¡ he was the village butcher, correct?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Yes. Unlike Becker, he was a pain in everyone¡¯s side. He owed a fortune in gambling debts and had more creditors than everyone else in the village put together. His widow, Aloisia, would have been left with nothing, but the clothes on her back if the count didn¡¯t step in and mediate things between her and her creditors.¡±
¡°So, he died and left his wife with all of that debt? Sounds rather scummy,¡± Ekkehardt commented.
¡°Yeah, but to be fair, dying was probably the nicest thing that piece of shit ever did for his wife. He would beat her at least once a week. Her friends wanted to help her, but she would always cover for him; tell them that she fell or that it was a mistake. I never understood why she did it¡¡± Althaus explained before he trailing off and looking and staring out into space.
¡°Do you think she¡¯ll want to talk about him? It sounds like she¡¯s suffered enough and I don¡¯t want to make her uncomfortable,¡± Alexandra asked. Althaus shook his head.
¡°I¡¯m afraid that won¡¯t be possible. Aloisia passed away two or three years ago. She ended up marrying some farmer in another village shortly after Wilhelm¡¯s death. I heard her new husband was a better man than Wilhelm, but I guess that¡¯s a pretty low bar to pass.¡±
¡°I see¡¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°Anyways, according to Aloisia, Wilhelm was at the bakery to speak with Becker. He told her that he was going there to purchase bread, but he would often go there just to chit-chat and waste time. I think Aloisia just wanted him away from her. She was the one holding the butcher shop together at that point, so his absence didn¡¯t really hurt their livelihood,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°The killer entered through the front, like how we just did, and then proceeded to talk to either Metzger or Becker or both of them about¡ something.¡±
¡°Wait, how do you know this?¡± Alexandra interjected. Althaus pointed to a house across the street.
¡°The killer was seen entering the bakery by an old man named Peter Freimann, who used to live in that house. He said that he was sitting near his house when he saw the killer enter the bakery. A minute or two later, Freimann heard Becker, Metzger, and a third person shouting about something. Freimann then heard a loud crash before seeing Metzger being violently ejected from the bakery and landing on his back in the street,¡± Althaus explained before he led them out of the bakery and back onto the street.
¡°The killer then walked out of the bakery, got on top of Metzger, and began to beat the man. The killer struck him multiple times in the face before Becker emerged from the bakery with a black eye and a baker¡¯s peel. Becker then struck the killer in the back of the head with the thin side of the peel, snapping it in two,¡± Althaus explained.
The old man then took his cane and lifted it up before turning it so that it was parallel to the ground. Holding it with both hands he pressed it up against his neck before continuing his recounting of events.
¡°Becker then took the handle of his broken peel and tried to strangle the killer with it by getting behind him and using it like a garrote; not unlike what I¡¯m doing right now,¡± Althaus continued before returning his cane to its previous position. He then pointed to the exterior wall of the bakery; to a spot next to the entrance.
¡°Becker was able to drag the killer back to the front wall of the bakery, roughly to where I¡¯m pointing, which allowed Metzger to get back up and pull out a boning knife. Metzger then lunged at the killer. The killer is able to kick him away twice and turned his nose into a bloody pulp the second time, but on Metzger¡¯s third attempt he was able to stick the killer in the chest,¡± Althaus said as he pointed to a spot on the left side of his chest, roughly between the fourth and fifth ribs. Althaus then began to look a little nervous and found himself struggling to continue the story.
¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± Alexandra asked. Althaus scratched the back of his head.
¡°I¡¯m sorry. From here on out I¡¯m going to need you to bear with me. This is the part of the story where things get a little¡ strange¡¡±
Chapter 19
¡°What do you mean a little strange?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Althaus scratched the back of his head.
¡°I guess there is nothing I can do other than repeat the accounts of Freimann and the others¡¡± Althaus responded before taking a deep breath. ¡°As Metzger plunged his knife into the killer¡¯s chest, the killer landed a hammer-fist right on Metzger''s right ear. Metzger lost control of the knife, leaving it lodged in the killer¡¯s chest.¡±
Althaus took another pause and breathed in.
¡°Metzger was knocked back and stunned for a few moments. He took a moment to regain his composure and draw a second knife, a large meat cleaver, from his belt,¡± Althaus explained as he mimed Metzger¡¯s actions; clutching his hand into a fist near his waist before lifting over his head, ¡°He raised it and just as he was about to strike a finishing blow, old Mr. Freimann saw something he couldn¡¯t believe: the top half of Becker¡¯s peel, the part that broke off earlier in the fight, began to shake. Up until this point it had been lying in the middle of the road in between Freimann and the others, but now it was moving by itself. The broken piece of wood began to rotate, so that the flat end pointed towards Freimann and away from Metzger.¡± Althaus explained.
¡°Before Freimann could process what was going on the broken peel launched itself through the air like an arrow. The broken end, which had a pointed edge, rammed itself into Metzger¡¯s right asscheek. He squealed like an animal before dropping the cleaver and falling on his side.¡±
¡°Metzger hit the dirt, but his cleaver didn¡¯t. Instead it remained motionless in the air. It didn¡¯t fall; it just rested parallel to the ground and at waist-height, as though it was sitting on an invisible table. Becker was still trying to strangle the killer, so either he didn¡¯t notice what was going on or he did notice, but couldn¡¯t do anything about it. Either way, he kept struggling with the killer as Metzger¡¯s cleaver began to spin. Freimann said that the cleaver began to rotate; slowly at first, but after a minute or so it was going real fast.¡±
¡°Once the cleaver got to the point where it was spinning so fast that it looked more like a gray and brown disk than a knife, it launched itself towards Becker and the killer. It just barely flew past the killer before cutting into the right side of Becker¡¯s large belly. Blood splattered over the side of the bakery and the knife lodged itself deep into the bakery¡¯s wall,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°Becker fell backwards, clutching his side. The killer used this opportunity to get back on his feet and grab Becker by the collar. He pulled Becker up and pinned him against the wall of the bakery. Freimann thought that the killer was trying to say something to Becker, but he was too far away and his hearing wasn¡¯t too good to begin with. All Freimann knew was that whatever the killer said to Becker just made him pissed off. Becker tried to grab the killer, but before he could do anything, the killer punched him right in the face so hard that he caused the back of Becker¡¯s head to hit the exterior wall of the bakery.¡±
¡°Freimann saw a large bloodstain appear on the wall, right where Becker¡¯s head hit it. When Becker slid to the ground, a thick blood smear followed his head. He hit the ground ass-first and ended up in a sitting position with his back against the wall,¡± Althaus explained as he pointed to a section of the bakery wall.
¡°This is just Freimann¡¯s opinion and maybe it didn¡¯t come from the mind of a genius, but he thought that Becker had been beaten senseless at this point. Nothing he said from that point forward seemed to make any sense and he didn¡¯t seem to act like a normal person would in that situation,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°What do you mean by that? I don¡¯t think many normal people end up in Becker¡¯s shoes,¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°I mean, he didn¡¯t seem to respond to the danger he was in. He just sort of, stared off into the distance with a dumb look on his face,¡± Althaus explained, ¡°Anyways, at that point neither Becker nor Metzger were in any position to fight back against the killer. Becker was staring off into space, thinkin¡¯ God-knows-what and Metzger was lying on his side with half a baker¡¯s peel lodged in his rear. Freimann saw the killer disappear into the bakery and return a few moments later with a rolling pin in his hand and several burning pieces of coal floating behind him; roughly at shoulder height.¡± Althaus explained before moving to a spot in the dirt road.
¡°This is roughly the spot where Metzger was when the killer came out of the bakery. He was able to get to the point where he had one foot and one knee on the ground. Freimann couldn¡¯t tell if he was trying to get up and fight or just get away, but when the killer saw him, he went straight for the wounded man and struck him across the face with the rolling pin.¡± Althaus said before pointing to his left, ¡°Two of his teeth were later found in that direction. We think that the killer knocked them out when he hit him with the rolling pin. Anyways, this knocked Metzger back onto the ground, but this time he landed on the peel, pushing it further into his body until part of it emerged from his upper thigh,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°Once Metzger was dealt with, the killer returned to Becker with the rolling pin in his right hand. He kept his left hand open with his palm facing up as several pieces of coal rotated in a circle above it. Then, with one single gesture, he sent a piece of coal flying towards Becker. It ended up lodging itself into the wound on Becker¡¯s right side. Becker howled like an animal. This is what would eventually get people to start noticing the fight.¡± Althaus explained.
¡°The killer then began speaking to Becker. He would say something to Becker, Becker would then either say nothing or say something that the killer didn¡¯t want to hear, and then the killer would burn Becker with the coals or strike him with the rolling pin,¡± Althaus said.
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¡°That sounds a lot like some sort of interrogation¡¡± Ekkehardt interjected.
¡°That¡¯s what we think it was, but with Freimann¡¯s hearing being what it was at the time we can¡¯t know for sure,¡± Althaus responded before returning to his story.
¡°Around this time Lia Forst, the wife of a lumberjack, showed up to investigate Becker¡¯s screaming,¡± Althaus said before pausing to point towards the blacksmith¡¯s building, ¡°Ms. Forst approached the scene from the road behind the blacksmith¡¯s building. She didn¡¯t see Becker or the killer until she rounded the corner. Once she had done that, she was able to see all three men, but she wasn¡¯t able to figure out exactly what was going on. She assumed that Becker and Metzger were injured and that the killer was trying to help them. I guess this was one of those situations where being half right is worse than being completely wrong. Anyways, she ran towards Becker and the killer until she got within ten paces of them. At that point she saw the killer standing over Becker, covered in blood, and holding a bloody rolling pin over his head while Metzger, still bleeding from the wounds on his thigh and asscheek, had once again risen to his hands and knees. She wasn¡¯t paying too much attention to what they were saying, but she remembered the killer saying something about Becker¡¯s daughter Elsa before she heard Metzger shout something along the lines of ¡®Get help, he¡¯s going to kill us all¡¯. Ms. Forst didn¡¯t even think; she just ran to the blockhouse,¡± Althaus explained
¡°The blockhouse?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Yeah, it¡¯s just down the road,¡± Althaus said while pointing to the road that ran perpendicular to the road the bakery was on, ¡°It¡¯s the only fortified structure in the village. Back in the Time of Red Snow, we would all try to hide there during the Bergman raids. When the count made peace with the Bergman we started using it as a place for the sheriff to store his weapons and idle in when he wasn¡¯t on patrol. We installed a cell in there too, but I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve ever had to use it.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Alexandra said.
¡°Anyways, when Ms. Forst ran to the blockhouse that day, she slammed the door shut behind her, collapsed and vomited onto Sheriff Taube and his friend, a farmer by the name of Dirk Hase. It was only after a minute of dry-heaving when Ms. Forst was able to explain to the sheriff what she saw and even then she wasn¡¯t exactly being coherent. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure how to respond to Ms. Forst; after all that part about floating coals must have been hard to believe¡¡± Althaus explained, only to be cut off by Alexandra.
¡°Wait a minute, you said that the killer put a piece of hot coal into Becker¡¯s wound, right?¡± She asked.
¡°Yes, sir. He did.¡± Althaus replied while nodding his head.
¡°Do you think he was trying to cauterize the wound?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Cauter-what-now?¡± Althaus spat out.
¡°Cauterization, it¡¯s a means of using heat to stop blood loss. You burn the wounded part of a patient¡¯s body to get it to swell and slow the bleeding,¡± Alexandra explained. Althaus scratched his chin for a moment.
¡°Why would he want to do that?¡± The old man asked.
¡°You said that he was trying to get information out of Becker, right? Maybe he was trying to keep Becker alive for long enough to tell him whatever he needed to know? You said that Elsa is involved in this, right?¡± Alexandra inquired.
¡°Well, that¡¯s what Ms. Forst said, but we tried talking to Elsa multiple times. She¡¯s always said that she doesn¡¯t know anything about what happened to her father,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°You think either Elsa or Ms. Forst are lying?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Well, in the case of Ms. Forst, I don¡¯t know if what she heard was true, but I know for a fact that she thought it was true. She was a very honest person. I don¡¯t even think she was physically able to lie. Was she misremembering? Maybe. Memory can be a tricky thing when stressful situations are involved,¡± Althaus said before taking a brief pause.
¡°As for Elsa¡ I don¡¯t know. We¡¯ve asked her about what happened to her father multiple times and she¡¯s always said that she didn¡¯t know anything. This is just a gut feeling, but¡ I don¡¯t know¡ something just doesn¡¯t feel right. Then again, she was only a little girl back then, so who knows?¡± Althaus replied.
¡°Alright, what happened next?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Once the sheriff decided that Ms. Forst hadn¡¯t just lost her mind, he picked up a club and a crossbow before telling Hase to inform my father, who was the village elder at the time, that something was going on in front of the bakery. The sheriff ran off to the bakery while Hase ran off to the church across the street,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°And why did Hase go to the church?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°His wife was friends with my mother and she told him that my father was going to be speaking with Father Taggart that day. This was right before he really started going downhill,¡± Althaus replied.
¡°I see,¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°Hase burst into the church, ran up to my father, and told him that Becker and Metzger were being attacked. Hase would later say that, once he said that, something lit up in my father¡¯s eyes; like he just realized something. Hase also said that he thought my father would just tell everyone to stay inside until the situation had been resolved and send him to find a doctor. Instead, my father ordered Hase and the people around him to mobilize the village militia so that he could personally lead it to the bakery. Hase and the others would follow my father¡¯s orders,¡± Althaus said before looking at the ground and sighing.
¡°What was happening down at the bakery while all this was going on?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Well, Mr. Freimann said that the killer went back to Metzger after his outburst and struck him on head once again with the rolling pin. We don¡¯t know for sure, but Freimann believed that this killed him. He then walked back to Becker and began to speak with him for a little bit, but Sheriff Taube, who was about eight paces away, interrupted their conversation. He pointed his crossbow at the killer and shouted at him; ordered him to get away from Becker, drop the rolling pin, and put his hands up. The killer shouted back, telling the sheriff something along the lines of ¡®This is none of your business¡¯. Taube didn¡¯t listen. He repeated his order several times in an attempt to pacify the situation and each time the killer refused to cooperate. After a while he just said that the killer had five seconds to comply or he would put a bolt in between his eyes. He counted down to five as the killer stared at him. When Taube counted to five he fired his crossbow. The bolt flew through the air only to stop right in front of the killer¡¯s face. It hung there for a moment before flying backwards and planting itself nock-first into his right eye. Taube dropped his crossbow and fell to the ground. He let out a painful shout as he clutched his face. As this was happening, my father and a dozen village militiamen showed up to the bakery and nobody could have foreseen what happened next.
Chapter 20
Althaus walked towards the center of the road. By the time he stopped Althaus was in the center of the road and roughly in front of the entrance to the butcher¡¯s shop.
¡°This is roughly where the killer was when my father and the village militia surrounded him,¡± Althaus explained, ¡°Now, I don¡¯t know what you guys have over where you¡¯re from, but out here we don¡¯t have much to work with. The militiamen that were here that day were just farmers, lumberjacks, and hunters. There were three or four men in their forties and fifties who had combat experience fighting for the Count back in the bad times, but most of them had never seen real combat before. Most of them didn¡¯t even have real weapons; just axes, knives, and pitchforks. I guess it must have looked more like an angry mob than a militia. Anyways, with the killer surrounded, my father approached him and demanded that he surrender. The killer responded by pulling Metzger¡¯s boning knife out of his body and telling my father that he wasn¡¯t going to do that. My father then said that, as the village elder, he wasn¡¯t going to let someone murder two of his people and just walk away,¡±
Althaus then inhaled deeply before continuing his story, ¡°Immediately after my father said that, the killer threw Metzger¡¯s knife at him. The knife shot through the air like an arrow or a javelin. It flew in a straight line without tumbling like how a knife or a hatchet normally would before landing in my father¡¯s neck. He fell backwards and died shortly afterwards,¡± Althaus explained without making eye contact with either Alexandra or Ekkehardt. Althaus then walked towards a narrow space between the butcher shop and a house that was to the south of it.
¡°Now, I can¡¯t recall if this was something that Metzger or his neighbor did, but, for some reason, at the time there was a large pile of wooden crates stacked up in this space. After murdering my father, the killer tried to make a break for it and ran in the direction of this alley-like space. All of the militiamen blindly charged at him, but only two of them, Hase and another man, were fast and close enough to even try to stop him. The killer was able to knock out one of the militiamen in his way by hitting him over the head with Becker¡¯s rolling pin and knocking him out cold, but Hase was able to lay hands on him,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°When the killer ran into this area between the butcher¡¯s shop and that house, Hase was able to grab him. I suspect that the killer was unaware of the crates when he ran in here and I know for a fact that Hase wanted to restrain him so that his friends could finish him off. Regardless, of what was going on in their heads, a struggle ensued. Hase tried to grab the killer, but the killer was able to shake him off before getting on top of the crates. When the killer had shambled his way up to the top of the stack, Hase made one last attempt to restrain him by grabbing at his left foot. The killer kicked Hase in the face with his right foot. The kick was strong enough to break Hase¡¯s nose and floor him, but he never let go of the killer¡¯s boot. When Hase regained his composure and opened his eyes, he saw the killer''s left boot in his hand and a stack of wooden crates,¡± Althaus explained. He then walked out of the alley-like space and back onto the road.
¡°The remainder of the village militia ran after the killer,¡± Althaus said as he pointed to a field behind the bakery, ¡°They chased him through that wheatfield over there, but our men lost track of him in the forest behind it. That was the last anyone here has ever seen of him and frankly, I think it¡¯s for the best if it stays that way,¡± Althaus remarked.
¡°I agree with you. If I swear that if we go into that forest and see him alive then we¡¯re going to be the last people to see him alive,¡± Alexandra promised.
¡°Well, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re going to find him, but I hope that, if you do, you will be able to keep that promise,¡± Althaus replied.There was a brief silence before Alexandra spoke.
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¡°Alright, if there is nothing else to talk about here, then I think I would like to speak with Elsa next,¡± She said.
¡°Actually, there is one more part of this story that I need to tell you,¡± Althaus responded.
¡°What would that be?¡±
¡°When the militiamen lost track of the killer, they started backtracking; retracing their steps in case they lost something. That¡¯s when they noticed something odd about the prints the killer left in the mud,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°What was odd about them?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Remember how Hase was able to steal the killer¡¯s left boot? Well, when the militiamen examined the killer¡¯s prints, they found an ordinary right boot print on the right and something strange on the left. I never got all of the details and I feel like it¡¯s one of those things you have to see to really understand, but it was described as being smaller than an ordinary foot and having four large toes; three in the front and one on the back¡¡± Althaus attempted to explain.
¡°What do you mean by ¡®one on the back¡¯?¡± Alexandra asked with a genuinely confused look on her face.
¡°You ever see the talons of an eagle or some other bird of prey? I was told that it was kind of like that,¡± Althaus answered. Alexandra scratched her chin.
¡°I see¡¡± She replied. Althaus sighed and scratched the back of his head.
¡°So, with that out of the way, what would you like to do next? I could take you to see Elsa or Father Taggart next. I don¡¯t think either of them will do you much good, but it can¡¯t hurt.¡± Althaus offered.
¡°What about Taube? Is he still around?¡± Alexandra asked. Althaus shook his head.
¡°I¡¯m afraid not. By some miracle he was able to get that crossbow bolt removed from his eye without any complications and he was able to keep on being sheriff, but he was never the same after that. He became more jumpy and short-tempered. He also never picked up a crossbow ever again. He said that he couldn¡¯t hit anything anymore with the missing eye and all, but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if that wasn¡¯t the whole story¡ Anyways, he died about five or six years ago,¡± Althaus explained.
¡°Oh¡¡± Alexandra replied, ¡°...In that case, I guess I would like to talk to Elsa. Could you lead us to her?¡±
¡°No problem, sir.¡± Althaus answered. The group then began to walk down the road, only to be interrupted when Alexandra suddenly spoke up.
¡°Wait, I actually have one more question about the killer,¡± She said. Althaus looked at her and nodded his head.
¡°Yes?¡±
¡°Did the killer ever say what his name was?¡± Alexandra asked. Althaus shook his head.
¡°No, I don¡¯t believe so. Why do you ask?¡± Althaus replied.
¡°We were told that the killer used the name ¡®Cedric¡¯ while he was in Weisshart. Did that ever happen?¡± Alexandra inquired. Althaus looked confused and maybe even a little offended.
¡°Now that is something that people here would definitely remember. The only ¡®Cedric¡¯ anyone around her ever heard of is that one guy who was friends with the Count and his family. Even if he wasn¡¯t dead when this happened, I don¡¯t think that he would have ever done anything like this. Where did you hear that?¡± Althaus asked.
¡°A scribe said he pulled it from the imperial records. It was in a crime report. The report said that two people heard the killer use the name ¡®Cedric¡¯,¡± Alexandra answered.
¡°Well, I don¡¯t know who wrote that, but it¡¯s not true and I don¡¯t think it would be a good idea to go around conflating a man like Cedric with something like what happened here.¡±
¡°Oh. My apologies. Sir Lowe and I will make sure that the record is corrected when we get back,¡± Alexandra said.
¡°Oh¡ thank you¡¡± Althaus said, appearing genuinely surprised and even a little grateful.
¡°No problem.¡± Alexandra replied, ¡°Now, with that cleared up, do you think you could take us to see Elsa?¡±
¡°Yes, sir.¡± Althaus said while nodding his head. The group then continued to walk down the road as Alexandra¡¯s mind returned to that night at Rasmussen¡¯s house; that night when the name ¡®Cedric¡¯ first entered her mind.
Chapter 21
¡°What?¡± Schirmer spat out that night three months before Alexandra and Ekkehardt traveled to Nordfell. He was the only one in Rasmussen¡¯s operating room who said anything after Messerschmit said that he knew of a sword that could break a moon dome.
¡°I normally would never talk or even care about anything like this, but I know of a sword that could break a moon dome. I¡¯ve never seen it myself, but after everything I¡¯ve seen and heard today I don¡¯t know what¡¯s real anymore,¡± Messerschmit explained. He took a sip of wine before starting his story.
¡°I never cared much for legends, fables, or whatever you want to call them, but I had an uncle that was very emotionally invested in that sort of thing. He was the kind of man who always had his head in the clouds; never married or had any kids. A few years ago he passed away and I inherited his property. Among his possessions, I found an old codex about sword-crafting that I took an interest in. At first I was confused, since I never imagined that someone like him would ever invest so much money in something that was purely for his professional development. Once I started flipping through the damn thing, it all started making sense: Much of the codex was dedicated to either historic weapon designs or weapons from myths and legends. Typical Uncle Ludger...¡± Messerschmit said before pausing to take another sip of wine.
¡°I ended up keeping the codex, since some of this historical information was useful for my work. While studying it I came across a reference to a supposedly magical sword from around the time of the fall of the Occidental Reman empire. It piqued my curiosity, partially because the codex said it was a ¡®heaven sword¡¯,¡± Messerschmit explained.
¡°A ¡®heaven sword¡¯?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°It¡¯s a sword that has been forged of celestial iron, also known as meteoric iron. Do you know what a meteor is?¡± Messerschmitt answered.
¡°I believe it¡¯s a rock that falls out of the sky. Some scholars from long ago said that they were omens of sorts, but I don¡¯t think the church ever said anything about them officially,¡± Alexandra replied.
¡°Well, I don¡¯t know anything about ¡®omens¡¯ or the church¡¯s dogma, but that part about rocks falling out of the sky sounds about right to me, your highness,¡± Messerschmit responded, ¡°Now, the reason why I care about them is because they are made out of a special kind of iron ore. I have no idea why this is, but for some reason any tool or weapon made out of the stuff will be more durable and hold an edge better than if it was made out of normal iron. It doesn¡¯t seem to rust either.¡±
¡°Hmm¡ I¡¯ve never heard of any sort of iron like that,¡± Schirmer remarked, ¡°Surely if it were that good more people would use it, right?¡±
¡°Well, the thing is that meteoric iron comes from meteors and there aren¡¯t that many meteors out there to begin with, so this stuff is very hard to come by. Due to its rarity and value, there are probably only a handful of blacksmiths on the continent that will get the chance to work with it in my lifetime. I don¡¯t want to brag, but as the premier blacksmith in the empire, I wanted to learn more about this material since there is a good chance that I will be one of those blacksmiths.¡± Messerschmit responded.
¡°I see¡¡± Schirmer said as he nodded his head, ¡°So, what makes this sword so special other than what the type of iron was made out of?¡± he then asked.
¡°Well, according to legend, this sword was the personal sidearm of Guntram Aust¡¡± Messerschmitt answered, causing everyone in the room to be taken aback.
¡°You mean my ancestor, Guntram Aust? The man that established the Adler dynasty?¡± Alexandra interjected.
¡°Yep. That¡¯s the one. According to the codex, he killed something that was described as an ¡®evil shape-shifting creature¡¯ using the sword. It said that sword was capable of overcoming any defense the monster presented, because it was blessed by not only the last of the pagan arch-druids, but also Saint Fredrick himself. The only limit to the sword¡¯s power was that it could only be wielded by a descendant of Guntram; not a terrible deal if you ask me,¡± Messerschmit explained before taking a sip of wine.
¡°The last thing the codex said was that the sword was supposedly lost when the Bergman horde came to Yerb,¡± Messerschmit concluded.
¡°So, this sword story is just a dead end?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Well, not exactly,¡± Messerschmit responded, ¡°I was reading the codex at the front counter of my shop when a mercenary entered to pick up some swords for his employer. I got up to get his swords, but when I came back, I found the man¡¯s eyes glued to the codex. He suddenly asked me to tell him what the codex said about the sword. When I asked him why he wanted to know so badly and he said that he had seen the sword before. I asked him which codex he had seen it in before, but he told me that he never saw it in a codex, but in real life! He told me that he was from Nordfell and the sword was just resting in some cave over there! He then said that he and his brother found it while exploring some spooky cave. It was just sitting in a vertical position within a stone that had a slot for the blade carved into it. When his brother tried to pick it up, he started convulsing and crying out in pain. When the man¡¯s brother came to his senses, he just grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged him out of the cave like a runaway horse. The mercenary said that his brother was so traumatized by the experience that he never told anyone exactly what made him start convulsing.¡± Messerschmit then paused to take another sip of wine.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
¡°I thought that interaction was strange, but I didn¡¯t really care much about it at the time. I honestly haven¡¯t even thought of it until just now. I genuinely believed, even after hearing that mercenary¡¯s story, that all of this talk of magic swords was bullshit, something that some wise-ass made to swindle money out of people like my uncle; I mean the design of the sword didn''t even look right. It looked more like contemporary swords than those of the late Reman period, but here we are: talking about moonmen, magic medallions, and a conspiracy in the imperial palace. I don¡¯t know what to believe anymore,¡± Messerschmit said with a sigh. There was a brief silence in the room.
¡°This codex, do you still have it?¡± Alexandra asked. Messerschmit nodded.
¡°Yeah. I do. I guess I could show it to you sometime¡ well¡ I guess I could if the circumstances were different. I can¡¯t exactly just have a courier carry it to the imperial palace and have them take care of the rest,¡± Messerschmit responded.
¡°Actually, I think we should have that issue squared away, does anyone have any idea where her highness and I will be able to hide out in the short term? We just need a place to hide while we figure out a plan to escape from the country,¡± Ekkehardt inquired.
¡°I have a friend, a yeoman farmer who might be symp¡¡± Rasmussen began only to be cut off by Alexandria.
¡°Wait, what do you mean by ¡®escape from the country?¡± Alexandra asked as she glared at Ekkehardt.
¡°I mean flee to somewhere safe. The best bet would probably be Zollernia-Hohenia, since it¡¯s relatively nearby, we don¡¯t have to cross much territory that is ether mountainous or directly controlled by the empire to get there, they have a strong enough military to prevent the empire from trying to bully them into giving us over, and there is a good chance that Alena will believe us,¡± Ekkehardt explained. Alexandra shook her head.
¡°No. We¡¯re not going to just leave Alexander like that, especially not¡ with her!¡± Alexandra shot back, ¡°We have to do something about this!¡±
¡°Yeah, and what would that be? Do you think that we can take on the whole empire just by ourselves? Maybe we could try to get to his majesty, but the odds are that Agripina has already sent the fastest messenger in the empire to tell him her version of events and we both know which one of you he¡¯s going to believe,¡± Ekkhardt responded.
¡°Well, if all of this talk about moonmen and magic swords is real, which it appears to be, then maybe we should send somebody to go to Nordfell, get the heaven sword, kill the moonman, and bring back his blood so that Rasmussen can make a cure for Alexander. Once that happens, we just need to find someone who is willing to infiltrate the imperial palace and give Alexander the cure,¡± Alexandra argued. Schirmer nodded in approval and was about to say something, but Ekkehardt quickly interrupted that attempt.
¡°You¡¯re forgetting that the sword, if it is even real, can only be used by someone from Guntram Aust¡¯s bloodline. That means that we would have to find a farmboy somewhere in the empire who''s a descendant of some royal bastard and convince him to go to Nordfell on our behalf. I don¡¯t want to be rude to you Alex, but unless you know someone who is Guntram Aust¡¯s descendant and is willing to go to the rectum of the empire to save Alexander, you need to shut up!¡±
Alexandra stepped backwards and looked away. She felt as though Ekkehardt had just punched her in the gut with his words. Ekkehardt noticed it almost immediately. In an instant his anger evaporated and guilt filled his body. He felt as though he had just kicked his cat while stumbling around in a dark hallway.
The room was silent. Suddenly Alexandra looked at her friend.
¡°Alex, I¡¡± Ekkhardt began.
¡°I know someone who can help us with the sword,¡±
¡°Huh?¡±
¡°I know someone who is a descendant of Guntram Aust, is willing to travel to Nordfell, find the heaven sword, kill the moonman, and return with its blood.¡± Alexandra said, speaking without a hint of levity in her voice while she stared at Ekkehardt.
¡°Who is this person?¡±
¡°Me.¡±
Chapter 22
The entire room was silent. Nobody knew how to respond to what Alexandra had just said. Ekkehardt wanted to tell her that now wasn¡¯t the time to make a joke like that, but he knew just by looking at her that she was dead serious.
¡°Uh¡ I do not wish to be disrespectful, your highness, but I think you should maybe consider the, uh, practical concerns that come with that undertaking,¡± Schirmer suggested.
¡°I have. I¡¯m going to go to Nordfell, find the sword, kill the monster, get its blood, and save Alexander from that bitch.¡± Alexandra proclaimed. Schirmer, who had not had never contemplated such vulgarity coming from the mouth of a woman of royal lineage, had to be fast when coming up with his response.
¡°Uh¡ your highness, I greatly agree with the intended outcome of such a course of action, but I¡¯m not sure if you are the best person to take on such a task¡¡±
¡°I¡¯m the only person who can do this!¡± Alexandra barked back. Ekkehardt could see something strange in her eyes as her arm shook. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was anger or desperation, but he knew he didn¡¯t like it. Rasmussen tried to say something, but Alexandra stopped him.
¡°We¡¯ve known how dangerous she was for a long time. You, me, Ekkehardt, Siegfried, Alexander, and many other people. We all knew and we did nothing. If we don¡¯t do something now then everyone in the empire will pay the price for it. She¡¯ll tear down everything that Alexander worked for! You know I¡¯m right! You all know I¡¯m right!¡± Alexandra spoke with all of the tact of a person begging for their life.
¡°Alex, you need to calm down¡¡± Ekkehardt began.
¡°No! I don¡¯t need to calm down! Nobody in the empire should be calm right now! Do you understand what position she¡¯s wormed her way into right now? Do you understand how my dad is going to respond to all of this?¡± Alexandra snarled.
¡°I don¡¯t give a damn about Agrippina or the empire right now! The only thing that any of us should care about right now is you! You¡¯re in no condition to even travel to a place like Nordfell, nevermind this monster-killing bullshit. We need to get you to Zollernia-Hohenia,¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°I ugh¡¡± Alexandra attempted to respond, but she was cut off by a loud hacking cough followed by thick blood leaking from her mouth. She stumbled, only to be caught by Ekkehardt before she could hit the floor.
Alexandra glared at Ekkehardt, struggling to find some valid response to what he had just said. Ekkehardt looked back at her with a mixture of pity and sadness. He then turned to everyone else in the room.
¡°I think that settles this issue,¡± Ekkehardt said. Schirmer, Schumacher, Messerschmitt, Kurtzman, and Vilmos all looked completely defeated. The room was silent as everyone tried to figure out how to process the situation. Eventually Schumacher spoke up.
¡°So, are you sure there is nothing we can do about Prince Alexander?¡± He bargained. Ekkehardt shook his head.
¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to be possible, even if this monster story was true, Alexandra is in no condition to go to Nordfell and hunt it down,¡± Ekkehardt responded before turning to Rasmusssen, ¡°Isn¡¯t that right doctor?¡±
Rasumussen had been staring at Alexandra for the past few minutes¡ or rather he was staring off into the space that Alexandra occupied. His face was blank and his unfocused eyes were wide open.
¡°Doctor?¡± Ekkehardt repeated in a slightly louder voice. Suddenly Rasmussen snapped back to reality.
¡°Yuh-yes?¡± He responded.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Kurtzman asked. Rasmussen nodded and then scratched his head.
¡°Sorry, what were you saying, Mr. Lowe?¡± the doctor asked.
¡°I said that Alexandra is in no condition to go to Nordfell and hunt down a monster,¡± Ekkehardt repeated. Rasmussen scratched the back of his head and took a deep breath.
¡°Yes¡¡± Rasmussen began, ¡°...about that¡ I think that might not be true¡¡±
¡°What?¡± Ekkehardt spat out.
¡°I have a supply of a certain potion that can temporarily boost a person¡¯s strength, agility, and vitality. I have long considered it as a possible treatment for her highness, but I never went through with it. It requires a skilled alchemist, many man hours of labor, and exotic materials to produce. Furthermore, his majesty has instructed me to hoard as much of the potion as possible due to its potential martial applications,¡± Rasmussen explained.
¡°Martial applications?¡± Schirmer asked.
¡°Yes. You probably know more about this than I do, but the war with the Osminites had a serious impact on the military leadership within the empire. They all saw the potential value a small number of highly trained and highly motivated soldiers could have, especially during a siege. His plan was to have me hoard this substance so that he could distribute it to his soldiers in the event that K?nigsstadt was besieged again. I¡¯ve only managed to amass about one hundred doses and each dose is only effective for about a day, but sometimes a siege can be won or lost on the backs of a hundred men,¡± the doctor explained.
¡°Doctor, are you suggesting that we give Alexandra this stuff and then get her to fight the moonman?¡± Ekkehardt accused.
¡°I¡¯m not trying to force her highness to do something she doesn¡¯t want to do, I¡¯m just telling you what is and isn¡¯t feasible. I have the potions and if she wants them then she can take them. If his majesty didn¡¯t want me to divest myself of them, then maybe he should have thought about that before he let his daughter fire me,¡± Rasmussen responded. Ekekhardt looked at the doctor with a mixture of anger and confusion as he came up with a reply.
¡°We don¡¯t know if this potion has any side-effects. Furthermore, even if it did restore Alexandra to full health, we would have some serious difficulty getting to Nordfell. Once Agrippina releases her version of events to the world, every member of the Gendarmerie will be looking for us and nobody is able to avoid their suspicion. Aren¡¯t I right, Mr. Schirmer?¡± Ekkehardt said before turning to the gendarme, who proceeded to inhale with a great degree of caution.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
¡°Actually, there is one group of people, other than the nobility, who are able to travel within the empire without getting stopped by the Gendarmerie¡¡± Schirmer answered.
¡°...other members of the Gendarmerie¡¡± Alexandra said, completing the gendarme¡¯s train of thought.
¡°Yes,¡± Schirmer responded, ¡°Nobody in the service is going to probe too deeply into what another gendarme is doing. Everybody else is too scared to ask questions once they see one of our signet rings. Don¡¯t ask me about the details, but I happen to have two Gendarmerie signet rings in my possession that the service doesn¡¯t know about,¡± Schirmer explained.
¡°Okay, but even if you had these signet rings, it would still be hard to pass yourself off as an imperial gendarme unless you had one of those dark hooded cloaks that you guys wear. If we wanted to get one of those then we would need to get our hands on the guy who makes them,¡± Ekkeahardt argued as he became increasingly frustrated.
¡°I am that guy!¡± Kurtzman stammered out as he jumped out of his chair.
¡°What?¡± Ekkehardt snapped back.
¡°That''s me¡ I have an exclusive contract to provide cloaks for the Imperial Gendarmerie. I have six of those cloaks sitting in my workshop right now just in case there is an emergency,¡± the short tailor explained. Ekkehardt sighed.
¡°Are you guys saying that you would be willing to give me these things if I went to Nordfell?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°If it would help save his highness, I would be willing to give you anything,¡± Schirmer answered, ¡°I have the rings hidden underneath the floorboards in my house, but if you¡¯re going to use them to help his highness, then they are as good as yours,¡±
¡°You can have the cloaks too!¡± Kurtzman chimed in.
¡°Wait a minute! You people can''t seriously expect her highness to go to Nordfell! Don¡¯t you understand how dangerous that place is?¡± Eckhardt protested as a look of anxiety began to form on his face.
¡°Actually, I have a means of addressing that issue,¡± Messerschmitt announced as he lifted a large bag up and dumped its contents on an empty table near Alexandra. The sound of clanging metal filled the room as the table was covered in a pile of weapons. Axes, swords, maces, and flails were now on display for everyone in the room to see.
¡°Please take your pick, your highness. Your cause is my cause!¡± Messerschmitt declared. ¡®...also every weapon you take is one less thing I have to carry home¡¡¯ he thought.
¡°Thank you, Mr. Messerschmitt. I don¡¯t have any sort of martial training, but I guess it wouldn¡¯t hurt to arm myself. I am going to be a fugitive from this point on after all,¡± Alexandra said.
¡°No martial training? I guess that makes sense,¡± Messerschmitt responded, ¡°Have you ever used any sort of weapon before?¡± The blacksmith asked. Alexandra scratched her head.
¡°Well, I used to play with a sling when I was little. I got really good with it, but I never imagined having to hurt someone with it,¡± Alexandra replied.
¡°I see¡ Well, no amount of craftsmanship can fix a lack of training, but I have something that might be a good fit for you¡¡± Messerschmitt said as he reached for something in the pile of weapons. His hand made contact with the black hilt of a sword. The hilt was simultaneously simple and elegant. It was made of a strong, but plain-looking black metal. Furthermore, it lacked any gold gilding or plating or encrusted jewels that were common on swords carried by royalty and nobility. However, the actual shape of the hilt was a genuine work of art. As Messerschmitt handed the weapon to Alexandra, she felt the weapon slot itself into her hand like a key in a lock; like it was made just for her. As she looked more closely, she could see that the weapon¡¯s crossguard was formed in the shape of a two-headed eagle, with each head making up one half of the crossguard.
Alexandra then removed the weapon from its black scabbard to examine its blade.The metal of the blade was immaculate and finely engraved. The engravings depicted five crowns. Alexandra quickly identified the crown closest to the hilt as the imperial crown of Ostermania and the four crowns above it as crowns of the empire¡¯s constituent kingdoms and principalities.
Even as someone who knew little about swords, Alexandra could tell that something about this sword just felt right; like it was an extension of her arm rather than a heavy hunk of metal.
She examined the sword closely one more time, finding a small line of text engraved onto the blade just above the hilt. It read ¡®The Eagle¡¯s Shadow¡¯.
¡°Do you like it?¡± Messerschmitt asked. Alexandra did not respond.
¡°It was a sort of prototype or proof-of-concept I made for his highness. I took measurements of his height, weight, arm-span, and hand size in order to get the size and shape of the blade just right. The weight of the blade and hilt was calculated out to a level specificity normally only used by apothecaries so that the sword could be as perfectly balanced as possible. I used only the finest materials and most advanced smithing methods to get the weapon you are holding right now. Once his highness confirmed that the sword was up to his standards, I did the whole thing again, only this time I added gold plating and encrusted emeralds to the hilt and gold inlays to the blade. I called that one ¡®The Golden Eagle¡¯,¡± Messerschmitt explained.
¡°May I keep it?¡± Alexandra asked as she sheathed the sword. Messerschmitt nodded.
¡°Of course,¡± he responded, ¡°Though I''m not sure how exactly you would carry it. A woman with a sword on her belt is probably going to invite questions,¡± he added.
¡°I think you are also forgetting that the Gendarmerie doesn¡¯t have any female gendarmes¡¡± Ekkehardt interjected.
¡°I think I can work something out¡¡± Alexandra began.
¡°What is there to work out? Even if you were somehow able to get to Nordfell and strengthen yourself with this potion, you don¡¯t know anything about fighting or survival. Regardless of whether this moonman stuff is real or not, all that¡¯s waiting for you over there is death. I took an oath to protect to protect you, not help you kill yourself. I am not going to take you to Nordfell just to watch you die. Now¡¡± Ekkehardt boomed, only to be cut off by Alexandra.
¡°Then don¡¯t!¡± She shouted back, ¡°Go to inform Alena and Cornelius about Agrippina and get out of my way!¡±
¡°What?¡±
¡°I said that if you aren¡¯t going to help me save Alexander then you are relieved of your oath!¡± Alexandra shot back. Ekkehardt¡¯s felt as though he had been punched in the chest as wordless air escaped from his open mouth.
¡°...why are you doing this Alex? You don¡¯t need to do this¡¡± Ekkehardt said. Alexandra could hear the hurt in his voice and see it in his eyes.
¡°I can¡¯t leave Alexander. Even if there is a one in a thousand chance to save him, I¡¯m going to take it. I have to take it.¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°But what about you? We could just go to Alena. You know she¡¯ll take care of us if we can get to her,¡± Ekkehardt pleaded.
¡°I know, but that¡¯s not what I want. I¡¯ve had people take care of me for my entire life. I¡¯ve had peasants grow my food, chiefs cook it for me, and servants bring it to me. I¡¯ve had doctors keep me healthy, scribes get me books, and carpenters furnish my tower. I¡¯ve even had you and Alexander protect me. All I¡¯ve ever done is take,¡± Alexandra explained.
¡°What are you talking about?¡±
¡°Look at my life up until this point, Eike. My existence has always been sustained by other people. Whether it¡¯s their labor, or their taxes, or their time. I¡¯ve taken so much and given nothing back. Not just from you and Alexander, but from everyone. All anyone ever wanted in exchange was for me to marry and build another alliance for the empire, but I couldn¡¯t even do that. Now the person I love the most, the person that I owe more than ever, the one who has been a blessing to everyone around him, is in danger. I have to help him or die trying. It¡¯s the only way I can give back everything I¡¯ve taken and I wouldn¡¯t be able to live with myself if I didn¡¯t try,¡± Alexandra explained. Ekkehardt was speechless.
¡°If you don¡¯t like this, then I can relieve you of your duties; give you back the remainder of your life,¡± Alexandra said. Ekkehardt didn¡¯t say anything. He just stared at the young woman. After a long silence he spoke up.
¡°Your sword training starts tomorrow.¡±
Chapter 23
¡°This is where she lives,¡± Althaus announced as they came to a small house on the south end of the village.
Elsa Bauer¡¯s house was a simple, but tidy stone structure. Althaus walked up to its wooden door and knocked. A blonde-haired woman in her early forties opened the door. Alexandra¡¯s eye was immediately caught by her odd facial features. She didn¡¯t look like a person from the Yerbian continent or one of the many Bergman she had seen during her time in Nordfell. Rather, Elsa Bauer looked like a mix between the two.
¡°Hello Markus. How may I help you?¡±
¡°Hello Elsa, I have some men with me from the capitol. They wanted to ask you some questions,¡± Althaus answered. An expression of confusion formed on Elsa¡¯s face.
¡°Can we come in?¡± Althaus asked. Elsa nodded her head and showed the group into her house. Althaus introduced Alexandra as Alf Neuman.
¡°Elsa Bauer.¡± The woman said, introducing herself she extended her hand to Alexandra, ¡°What brings you to me, Sir Neuman?¡±
¡°We are investigating a murder; your father¡¯s murder to be specific,¡± Alexandra explained. Elsa looked away for a brief moment, appearing as though she had just tasted something foul. She then returned her gaze to Alexandra.
¡°I don¡¯t know what I can tell you. That was a long time ago and I wasn¡¯t there when it happened. I¡¯d rather just move on from all of that,¡± Elsa explained.
¡°I¡¯m sorry Ms. Bauer, but we really would like to go over this with you one more time. We believe your father¡¯s murderer is connected to something that is of great importance to the security of the empire,¡± Ekkehardt said.
¡°How is that the case? His killer is dead,¡± Elsa remarked.
¡°Dead?¡± Alexandra repeated, ¡°How do you know that?¡± Elsa¡¯s eyes darted across the room for a brief moment.
¡°It happened decades ago. He would have to be dead by now,¡± Elsa answered.
¡°I see¡¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°Ms. Bauer, I was told that your father was a religious man, is that true?¡± Alexandra asked. Elsa was a tad bit annoyed, but decided to tolerate her inquiries.
¡°He attended service every week,¡± Elsa answered.
¡°I see,¡± Alexandra replied, ¡°Did your father have any enemies that you know of, anyone that might have wanted to hurt him?¡± Elsa shook her head.
¡°No, not that I know of,¡± She answered. Alexandra nodded.
¡°Okay. Do you remember where you were on the day of your father¡¯s murder?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°I was playing near the bridge,¡± Elsa answered.
¡°Do you remember who you were with?¡±
¡°I was alone.¡±
¡°I see. What can you tell us about Wilhelm Metzger?¡± Alexandra asked. Elsa produced a slight frown.
¡°I don¡¯t think I can tell you anything that you don¡¯t already know. He was¡ a bad man. What else is there to say?¡±
¡°How was he bad?¡± Alexandra probed.
¡°He¡ he drank and beat his wife,¡± Elsa responded.
¡°Was he your father¡¯s friend?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°I guess you could say that,¡± Elsa said before pausing for a moment, ¡°... He would visit my father at the bakery often. We lived next door, you see.¡±
¡°And what would they talk about when Metzger visited the bakery?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Nothing important; the weather, the news, Metzger¡¯s debits,¡± She answered.
¡°Did you know any of his creditors?¡±
¡°Well, yes. He owed money to just about every man in the village at one point or another.¡±
¡°Did any of these people seem like they were violent or involved in something dangerous?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Not that I know of. I honestly cannot recall. This was not something that a child would pay attention to.¡±
¡°Do you know where Metzger¡¯s wife Aloisa was on the day of the murders?¡± Alexandra asked. Elsa shook her head.
¡°No sir, I do not,¡± she answered.
Alexandra then swallowed her saliva as she prepared to ask her next question.
¡°I apologize for being so blunt about this, but did your father ever have any affiliations with the occult? Did he ever question the church or meet with strange people?¡± Alexandra asked as she braced for Elsa¡¯s response.
¡°No. Not that I¡¯m aware of,¡± Elsa answered. She spoke as though she was telling Alexandra that her father preferred pork over beef or that his favorite color was green. She responded to the question as though it was of no importance. If anything, the lack of disgust or anger at the suggestion of her father having any occult affiliations bothered Alexandra more than the outburst she had feared.
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¡°Okay, I have one more question: Do you know of anyone in the village named ¡®Cedric¡¯?¡± Alexandra asked. The final word of Alexandra¡¯s question hit Elsa like a fist. She inhaled deeply as her eyes darted across the room.
¡°You mean Cedric of Sortpool, the foreigner who was friends with the count?¡± Elsa asked.
¡°I mean someone besides him. Someone who was either from or lived near this village specifically,¡± Alexandra explained. She could see a hint of fear in Elsa¡¯s face.
¡°No. I never knew anyone like that,¡± she answered.
A few minutes later
¡°Mr. Althaus, may I have a few moments to speak with Ekkehardt privately?¡± Alexandra asked. The group had left Elsa¡¯s house and were now back at the bakery. Ekkehardt and Alexandra ducked into the alley-like space next to the bakery, the same one that Wulf Becker and Wilhelm Metzger¡¯s killer had escaped from years ago, and began to speak softly to each other.
¡°Eike, are you feeling the same as me when it comes to Elsa?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°If you feel that she wasn¡¯t being completely honest with us, then yeah, I¡¯m feeling the same as you,¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°She knows something that she¡¯s not telling us, I can just feel it. Everything about the way she talked to us was just¡ off¡¡± Alexandra remarked.
¡°Do you think she was involved in the killings?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Alexandra shrugged.
¡°I don¡¯t know. She was a child when all of this happened. How could she have been involved? What could she have done; summon a moonman to kill her father? I don¡¯t think that makes sense.¡±
¡°Alex, I don¡¯t think anything in my life has made sense for the past few months,¡± Ekkehardt replied. Alexandra ran through the conversation in her mind one more time. She remembered the fear in Elsa¡¯s face when she said the name ¡®Cedric¡¯. Was Elsa afraid of them or was she afraid of something else entirely?
Meanwhile
From a dark corner of the Frauenwald, Nashorn sat on a fallen tree trunk and as he studied the maps sprawled over his lap. For a moment he glanced to his side; to the sketchbook that was sitting next to him. He contemplated opening it again, but a rustling in the branches above stopped him before he could. An owl flew overhead before landing behind him. A few moments later, Nashorn could hear the soft steps of a small man behind him.
¡°What did you see, Sova?¡± The pale man asked.
¡°It¡¯s just as you said, Nashorn. Whoever made those maps knew what they were doing,¡± the voice from behind Nashorn responded. Nashorn smiled.
¡°Good. We will stick with the original plan then,¡± He said. He then began to fold up his maps and put them back in his pack. While his pack was open, he pulled out a pair of thick glasses and turned around. He extended them out to the naked man in front of him.
¡°Here,¡± He said. Without thinking, Sova reached out, grabbed the glasses, and put them on. He found his clothing and dressed himself without any further assistance or difficulty. For a moment there was silence between the two men.
¡°Hey Nashorn¡¡±
¡°Yeah?¡±
¡°Have you put any thought into what you¡¯re going to do when this is all over?¡± Sova asked.
¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Nashorn responded.
¡°I mean what are you going to do when this job is over; when we¡¯ll be able to do whatever we want. What will you do?¡± Sova repeated. Nashorn shrugged. He picked up his sketchbook and put it back in his bag.
¡°I don¡¯t know. Why does it matter?¡± Nashorn shot back. Sova scratched the back of his head.
¡°I dunno. I was just thinking while I was alone up there. I was thinking about how I would still like to see you from time to time after this. You are the reason why we made it this far after all,¡± Sova explained.
¡°I see¡¡±
¡°I was thinking that it would be great if you could visit me from time to time when I¡¯m studying architecture. I think you would like that too,¡± Sova said.
¡°Yeah¡ I think I¡¯ll do that¡¡± Nashorn responded.
Without any warning, the sound of twigs snapping sent both men towards their weapons. They turned around only to see Farkash carrying a dead deer.
¡°Dinner,¡± He said. They both nodded in approval and let go of their weapons. Nied?wied? and Zmija were not far behind him. Nied?wied? effortlessly carried a large quantity of firewood while Zmija carried a dead rabbit, berries, mushrooms, and root vegetables. Nashorn immediately got up to help Farkash with the deer.
¡°Excellent work. This should be more than enough for all of us,¡± he said. It was only when he looked at the dead rabbit held by Zmija that he realized that he forgot about something.
¡°Have any of you seen Hien??¡± Nashorn asked. It was at that moment a feeling of panic began to set within the group.
¡°I thought she was with you¡¡± Zmija said while pointing at Farkash, who responded by simply shaking his head. Before he could respond, Sova spoke up.
¡°I think I saw her near the vill¡ shit!¡± he exclaimed. Without thinking, Sova tore off his glasses, tossed them to Zmija, and began to strip down. Farkash followed suit.
¡°You two stay with the camp,¡± Nashorn said to Zmija and Nied?wied?, ¡°The three of us will handle it this,¡±
Within less than a minute the three of them were all, in some manner, racing towards Weisshart.
Sometime later, back at Weisshart
Ekkehardt slammed the church door shut seconds before the bottle of wine shattered against it.
¡°I am so sorry about this,¡± Althaus said, ¡°He¡ he acts like this sometimes. He has a problem. We don¡¯t know what to do.¡±
¡°It¡¯s okay, sir. I don¡¯t know if he would have told us anything useful anyways,¡± Alexandra responded. Ekkehardt nodded.
¡°I think it¡¯s for the best if we just move on,¡± He said.
¡°I see. I don¡¯t really know who else to send you to. I don¡¯t think there is anyone left who saw what happened that day,¡± Althaus said.
¡°Well then, I think we should just retire to the blockhouse for the night and prepare for tomorrow,¡± Alexandra suggested. Ekkehardt nodded in agreement.
¡°Okay. I will show you around and make sure that you¡¡± Althaus began, only to be cut off by a loud cackle down the road. Someone in the distance was laughing loudly. The group turned around to see a figure on the road; the source of the laughter. Alexandra could see it walking slowly towards them with a weapon in its hand. As it neared her, fear began to flow into Alexandra. She didn¡¯t want to believe it at first, but she realized that what was walking towards her and laughing might have had two arms, two legs, and a head, but it was not human.
Chapter 24
The creature lunged at Ekkehardt and Alexandra. Ekkehardt instinctively drew his sword and stepped in between the creature and Alexandra. By the time Alexandra grabbed her sword, the creature¡¯s blade collided with Ekkehardt¡¯s.
Ekkehardt was immediately put on the defensive. It was bad enough that he had been caught off-guard and allowed the creature to close the distance between them (which circumvented the length advantage that his sword had), but what was even worse was that he had no idea what he was fighting.
The creature was a clothed bipedal humanoid of average human height with tan, black-spotted fur. Its face was somewhere between that of a cat and a dog. The creature¡¯s eyes were entirely brown, save for black cat-like vertically-slit pupils.
The weapon that it held in its left hand was also unlike anything Ekkehardt had ever seen before, let alone fought against. It was a one-handed blade weapon with a large grip and no handguard. The blade was constructed out of a strange black metal and had an unusual curve. The blade curved in a manner that was similar to a saber, save for the fact that it was curved away from the creature rather than towards it. Ekkehardt judged, based on how the creature swung the weapon, that the sharp side of the blade ran like a sickle along the inside of the curve, rather than on the outside like a saber.
Finally, there was the speed of the creature. It moved faster than almost any human combatant Ekkehardt had ever sparred against. All of his energy was spent parrying the creature¡¯s attacks. After two or three parrys the name of the creature¡¯s weapon finally hit him.
¡®It¡¯s a falx!¡¯ Ekkehardt thought. He remembered his father teaching him about how this strange sword was once a commonly-used weapon in the land that would eventually become Remina, but it had long since fallen out of favor. It was so long forgotten that learning how to defeat it was considered a waste of time. Why learn to defeat a weapon that hasn¡¯t been forged in over a hundred years? The best that Ekkehardt could do was draw on what he had learned from sparring against men armed with war scythes and sabers.
Suddenly a soldier that was accompanying Alexandra and Ekkehardt lunged towards the creature and thrust his spear at it. The creature jumped back, flipped in the air, and then landed on its feet just as the tip of the soldier¡¯s spear came close to where it was standing.
The creature let out a loud cackle and then pressed some sort of trigger-like mechanism on its sword as it raised the weapon above and behind its head. It then swung the weapon forward in a manner that perplexed Ekkehardt, as it was too far away to hit anyone. The blade, rather than remaining rigid and constant in length, moved in a rope or whip-like fashion and extended forward. The weapon wrapped itself around the soldier¡¯s leg and dug through his clothing and into his flesh. The creature then pulled back, causing the soldier to lose his balance and fall to the ground. He dropped his spear as he let out a scream. The creature then pressed the trigger on its weapon once again and the whip-like blade retracted back to its grip and returned to its original falx shape. Alexandra could see the soldier crying out in pain as he grasped his bloody left leg. Her gaze then returned to the creature as it licked a little bit of the blood off of its blade as a satisfied smile formed on its face. The creature stared directly into Alexandra¡¯s eyes as it licked the blood off its blade.
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Three more soldiers armed with spears closed in on the creature while Althaus and a fourth one attempted to drag his injured comrade to safety. Ekkehardt could see that their attack was uncoordinated. Their movements were shaky and undisciplined; not the deliberate movements of one who was able to control their fear.
The first of the three thrust his spear towards the creature¡¯s throat, only for it to be met with a parry. In one quick motion the creature grabbed the shaft of the spear with its right hand and, while stepping slightly to the right, pulled the spear forward. The soldier lost his balance and fell forward, right into a round-house kick to his liver. He lost control of his weapon as he fell to the ground clutching his side.
Without so much as stopping for a breath, the creature, while holding the spear in a reverse grip in its right hand, parried a second soldier¡¯s spear thrust while simultaneously turning its weapon back into a whip and swinging it at a third soldier. The whip wrapped around the soldier¡¯s right arm and cut through his gambeson and into his flesh. The creature pulled on its whip and sent the third soldier tumbling towards the second. The two men fell down. Ekkehardt attempted to rejoin the fight, but as soon as the two men hit the ground, the creature threw the first soldier¡¯s spear, blunt end first, at Ekkehardt, hitting him right in the stomach and staggering him.
The creature giggled in delight as it once again made eye contact with Alexandra, who was now nervously messing around with her headband of all things. The creature retracted its weapon¡¯s blade, turning it back into a falx sword. It was going to strike Ekkehardt again, until it noticed that the second soldier, the one that it had only knocked to the ground and not injured any further, was now in the supine position and desperately drawing his dagger.
¡®Best if I take care of this one right now. The fewer bitter-enders that show up on the hill, the better,¡¯ the creature thought. The creature held its weapon above its head in an icepick grip as it prepared to plunge the blade straight through the man¡¯s chest. The creature looked at the man it towered over. It saw the horror in the man¡¯s wide brown eyes as it readied its blade; it savored it like how a sommelier savors a fine wine. The feeling was intoxicating; arousing and enrapturing. It was so enrapturing that the creature didn¡¯t see Alexandra as she used her sling to fling a smooth lead ball the size of a large walnut straight at its head.
The feeling of sheer bliss that had overcome the creature was immediately replaced by a sharp pain in its head. It staggered backwards and clutched its head as it tried to understand what had just happened to it. When it regained its senses it glared at Alexandra, who was now white as a sheet and digging into her pouch for another projectile. It was overcome with an irrational rage; one that burned white-hot. In that moment, all it knew was that it didn¡¯t want to kill Alexandra; it wanted to destroy her. Its hatred was so powerful that it was only barely able to parry an attack from Ekkehardt, who had just regained his composure.
Ekkehardt swung at the creature two more times before it felt a crossbow bolt narrowly miss it. The creature saw two dozen men, all armed and armored, move between it and Alexandra. The creature was about to swing at Ekkehardt when it heard something that made it stop: the howling of a wolf.
The howl cut through the air like a knife. The creature knew it was close to the village. As if operating on instinct, it looked up to the sky and saw an owl flying above. It frowned in disappointment. Before anyone could react, the creature produced a spherical object from its pocket and threw it on the ground between Ekkehardt and itself. A cloud of white smoke instantly emerged from the object and obscured everyone¡¯s view. Ekkehardt held his breath and slowly walked backwards away from the expanding cloud as he kept his eyes peeled, his ears open, and his hands gripping his sword.
The cloud, instead of hiding an attack, dissipated after a few minutes, revealing nothing. The creature had just disappeared into thin air.
Chapter 25
Sova hurriedly redressed himself. He was so shaken that he didn¡¯t even notice that the right lens of his glasses was dirty. Even with just his left eye working properly, he could tell that it was not safe to be near Nashorn right now. Once he had informed him of the fight in the village, the tall albino simply sat down on a log and did not move or make any facial expressions whatsoever. With his pale skin, he appeared as though he was some strange statue dressed in human clothes. He had been like this for five minutes.
In the corner of his left eye, Sova saw Zmija tap Nied?wied?¡¯s arm and whisper into his ear.
¡°I think we should go and collect more firewood; just in case. Don¡¯t you think that would be a good idea?¡± She whispered. Nied?wied? nodded. Zmija grabbed two of his fingers with her hand. To an observer, it would have been reminiscent of how a father would hold the hand of a small child. Sova could see that the large man was scared. Zmija smiled at Nied?wied? as they walked towards Sova. As she turned to her short, bespectacled companion her smile melted away instantly. She looked straight into Sova¡¯s eyes and without saying a word he knew what she wanted; what she needed.
¡°Farkash is okay. He wasn¡¯t involved in the fight and he only used his second face,¡± He said. He could see a wave of relief wash over Zmija.
¡°Thank you,¡± She answered. She then returned to Nied?wied?, once again wearing a smile, and began to walk away.
About a minute or two after Nied?wied? and Zmija left the camp, Sova saw the creature that had attacked Ekkehardt and Alexandra walking towards him. It was accompanied by a black wolf.
It was at this point when Sova noticed that his glasses were dirty. He removed them. For a moment his vision was reduced to a blurry unfocused mess as he wiped his glasses down with his shirt. Once all of the dirt was gone, he put them back on and saw that the creature was replaced by Hien? while the wolf had disappeared. He turned around and saw a naked Farkash grabbing a set of clothes that had been neatly folded for him. He paused briefly while dressing himself. He put his pants back and then stopped for a moment to look at Sova. His muscular chest was covered in scars. There was concern in his eyes. The both of them then turned to Nashorn and Hien?.
Nashorn was still sitting on the fallen tree. His red eyes, still emotionless, were focused on Hien?, who walked towards him with the carelessness and mirth of a child in a candy store. She stopped right in front of Nashorn.
Her weapon was no longer visible, as it had one feature that neither Ekkehardt nor Alexandra had observed. The blade of Hien?¡¯s weapon was capable of collapsing into and expanding out of the hilt with the press of a button. Sometime before her arrival at the camp, she had collapsed the weapon and tucked it away into a pouch on her belt. Retrieving and deploying the weapon would be a simple task that Hien? could do with her eyes closed, but her hands were nowhere near her weapon.
¡°Oh Nashorn, I couldn¡¯t help myself. The princess and her guard-dog were just standing out in the open, waiting to be cut up. I¡¯m terribly sorry about that little¡ indiscretion¡¡± She said, finishing her sentence with a wink.
Nashorn stared at her with cold red eyes.
Meanwhile
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¡°What the hell was that?¡± Alexandra asked as Ekkehardt examined his sword within the blockhouse. The interior of the blockhouse was a simple space that was crudely constructed out of wood. The room that they were in was filled with cots and barrels of stored food. Narrow arrow-slits were cut into all of the walls and equipped with wooden shutters. In between these arrow-slits hung large quivers, all full of arrows.
Alexandra, Ekkehardt, and Althaus were surrounded by Schwartzbaum¡¯s men, who were now on guard like never before. The injured soldiers were taken into the blockhouse and were being treated. The two that were struck by the creature¡¯s whip had been cut up, but their wounds were shallow. Ekkehardt believed that the creature¡¯s weapon was meant to cause more pain than actual harm. Once the soldiers¡¯ wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, it was likely that they would be okay, provided that they didn¡¯t get sick. To prevent this, measures were being taken to ensure that they had access to the cleanest available air.
Ekkehardt wasn¡¯t able to produce an answer to Alexandra¡¯s question. Althaus was silent. The village elder was pale as a sheet, shaking back and forth in his chair, and staring off into the distance. Ekkehardt, who was not looking at Alexandra, held his sword out in front of him as he replayed the events of the fight in his mind. Eventually he spoke up.
¡°I don¡¯t know¡. I¡ I¡¯ve never seen anything like that¡¡± He finally said. He then turned to Althaus.
¡°Mr. Althaus, have you ever seen a creature like that before?¡± He asked. Althaus shook his head.
¡°No! That¡ that wasn¡¯t like anything I¡¯ve ever seen before. That doesn¡¯t happen here! We are good, peaceful people. We haven¡¯t seen anything like that since¡ since the murders all those years ago!¡± Althaus exclaimed. His eyes darted around the room as he sat on the edge of his seat. Althaus then pointed his finger at Ekkehardt and Alexandra.
¡°It came for you! I know I saw it look at you! You brought it here!¡± He accused.
¡°Mr. Althaus, we don¡¯t know any more about what that thing was than you do. How could we have brought it here?¡± Ekkhardt responded. Althaus gritted his teeth.
¡°I don¡¯t know! All I know is that it wasn¡¯t here yesterday and that if it comes back it¡¯s going to hurt one of my people,¡± Althaus spat out.
¡°The count has already sent soldiers to take up positions in Weisshart, if it comes back then the village won¡¯t have to deal with it alone,¡± Alexandra argued. Althaus shook his head.
¡°You saw what it did to those men. Are you sure that will be enough, especially after you take some of them with you?¡± Althaus responded.
¡°Sir,¡± Ekkehardt said, ¡°If that creature is after us like how you said, then it will stop being your problem the moment we leave, which will be tomorrow morning.¡±
Althaus glared at Ekkehardt for a moment, but soon realized that the young man had a point. He then began to walk away.
¡°Fine¡¡± he said before exiting the room. Ekkehardt sat back down and sighed. Alexandra turned to look at the sunset through one of the blockhouse¡¯s arrow-slits.
¡®Something about that creature feels familiar¡ I know it¡¡¯ Alexandra thought to herself.
Somewhere else, a short time later
Nashorn¡¯s red eyes looked down at the figure beneath him and inhaled deeply. The porcelain-colored skin of his hands was now red. A humanoid bloody pulp lay belly-up beneath him.
¡°That was your final warning. Your next indiscretion will be your last,¡± He said before turning away. Hien? spat out some blood. She was too hurt to laugh, but that didn¡¯t stop a large smile from forming on her lips. Her pain was great, but she knew everything was going to be okay, for soon she would get the chance to share it. She stared up at the night sky as a single barely-audible word escaped her lips:
¡°Princess¡¡±
Chapter 26
K?nigsstadt, some time ago
¡°We should be there soon, your highness!¡± the carriage driver shouted. Prince Alexander nodded in approval.
¡°Excellent!¡± Alexander shouted back in response. The small, but opulent carriage bumped up and down as it drove down the cobble-stone streets of K?nigsstadt. Inside sat Alexander, Alexandra, Ekkehardt, and Siegfried. Conversation between the four had become difficult the moment they had left the palace for the simple reason that a cacophony of voices surrounded the carriage. The streets of K?nigsstadt were loud and busy on any given day, but today was different as a crowd of girls and young women had swarmed around Alexander''s carriage; each eager to catch a glimpse of the young prince. A group of horsemen formed a perimeter around the carriage, but they were only barely able to keep the crowd at bay.
¡°Thanks for taking the two of us with you, your highness!¡± Ekkehardt shouted.
¡°No problem, Ekkehardt!¡± Alexander shouted back, ¡°I just wish the crowd wasn¡¯t so loud! It¡¯s usually not this big!¡±
The carriage turned a corner and arrived at a large stone building surrounded by a tall stone wall topped with metal spikes. Two guards inside of the wall opened a metal gate, allowing the carriage and some of the horsemen to come inside while the remainder held back the crowd. The space within the walls was mostly grass with a couple of trees dotted here and there. Alexander immediately stepped out and walked to his driver.
¡°Thank you, Branislav!¡± He shouted as Siegfired exited the carriage.
¡°You¡¯re welcome, your highness!¡± the driver shouted back with a smile and a thumbs-up. Alexander then turned to one of the horsemen.
¡°If possible, I would like to address the crowd outside, sir!¡± Alexander shouted. The man shrugged.
¡°Whatever you, you¡¯re highness!¡± He responded. The horsemen then dismounted and formed a human barricade by standing in the open gate as the remaining horsemen entered the walled-in area. Alexander then mounted one of the horses and trotted up just behind the line of soldiers as Alexandra and Ekkehardt got out of the carriage. Siegfried was close behind him.
¡°It¡¯s him!¡± one of the girls shouted as she pointed at the young prince.
¡°Prince Alexander, I love you!¡± Another shrieked. The entire crowd was ecstatic at the sight of Alexander. Prince Alexander then attempted to calm the crowd by calmly and rationally explaining to them how grateful he was for their support and admiration, but it was imperative that they do not attempt to interrupt him while he was in the process of fulfilling his duties as the crown prince of the Empire and defacto steward of the grand duchy of Ostermania and that he would be more than happy to address any comments or concerns that they had for him (on a first-come, first-serve basis) during the designated times in which he opened himself up for public comment every morning on the first and third Midweek of the month.
This was completely ineffective in silencing the love-struck crowd. After about five minutes, Alexander gave up and ordered the gates to be closed.
The carriage driver then turned to Ekkehardt.
¡°I love that man to death, but I don¡¯t understand how someone so smart can still be doing this. You¡¯d think he¡¯d stop after the second time he gave that speech¡ or the seventeenth¡¡± the carriage driver commented.
Alexander rode the horse back to Ekkehardt and Alexandra and then dismounted.
¡°So, shall we go inside?¡± He asked. Ekkehardt and Alexandra nodded in approval. The four of them, along with the dismounted horsemen, walked towards the building. As they approached the building¡¯s entrance, a pair of guards opened a large pair of wooden double-doors to allow them inside.
Inside a large group of monks wearing simple brown robes waited inside.The were standing in what appeared to be a sort of lobby or reception area and they were all facing the entrance. Many of them appeared to be either nervous or excited. An old monk standing in the middle of the crowd spoke up as soon as Alexander and his companions entered the room.
¡°Good morning, your highness. It is a pleasure to see you here today,¡± He said with a smile.
¡°Thank you, Brother Florian. I¡¯m glad that I could come here and talk about your proposed expansions in person. I think that there is great potential here to raise the empire¡¯s prestige within the intellectual circles of Yerb and lift some young men out of a life of poverty while we are at it,¡± Alexander responded. Suddenly a lot of the monks in the room appeared to be a bit more at ease, especially the old monk.
¡°That is excellent, your highness. I wasn¡¯t sure how you would feel about my proposal for the expansion of the scribe training program and the construction of more shelf space. Some of us were concerned that you may cut our funding for merely suggesting it,¡± the old monk replied. Alexander shook his head.
¡°No, I would never do such a thing. I believe that a good king should not make his subjects afraid to simply send a request to him. That is not the way I will do things,¡± Alexander proclaimed. All of the monks in the room seemed to be more relaxed and happy the more Alexander spoke.
¡°Well then, if you don¡¯t mind, I would like to give you a little demonstration of our transcription process. I have my subordinate, Schumacher, in the next room who is ready¡¡± the old monk began.
¡°Pardon me sir, but there is one other thing I wanted to discuss with you before we got started,¡± Alexander interjected.
¡°Yes, your highness?¡±
¡°I have brought my sister, Princess Alexandra, and her bodyguard, Sir Ekkehardt Lowe, with me today. They wanted to browse your library. That wouldn¡¯t be a problem, would it?¡± Alexander asked as he gestured towards Alexandra.
¡°Oh, that won¡¯t be a problem, your highness. I believe her highness has visited us before, so there is nothing to worry about,¡± the old monk answered.
¡°Thank you, sir.¡± Alexandra said. After a few more minutes of conversation, Alexandra and Ekkehardt left the group by taking the door on the right, which lead to the library, instead of the door on the left, which led to a room where scribes would transcribe literature.
The K?nigsstadt Imperial Library was a massive building run by the church.It was connected to a monastery and a transcription facility that employed both monks from the church and scribes hired by the Imperial government. Due to the value of the books and codices within, the library was not open to the public. It was uncommon to see someone casually browsing the shelves of this library and it was almost unheard of to have a book or codex checked out there. Thankfully for Alexandra, being a member of the imperial family granted her the privilege to do such things.
The princess happily walked by the massive bookshelves. She scanned every spine with great enthusiasm as she searched for the codex she came here for. Her condition had not yet worsened to the point where such activity was unsustainable.
¡°Are you sure they have it?¡± Ekkehardt asked as they walked through the library. The shelves were not organized in any manner other than recency. The books and codices that had been placed in the library most recently were in the front, while the older ones were in the back.
¡°I¡¯m sure. It¡¯s the single most important history of the Reman Republic¡¯s transformation into an empire. How could they not have it?¡± Alexandra responded.
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¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re specifically looking for an Alemanian translation. Are you sure the scribes have gotten around to translating it? I mean, the church wants them to spend most of their energy transcribing scripture and religious documents. Do you really think they had time to translate some old Hellastani codex about pagans killing each other hundreds of years ago into Alemanian?¡±
¡°Well, translating it into Alemanian would still be of benefit to the church. It does provide some level of context to what was going on in the Reman Empire during the church¡¯s foundation. Also, their weird form of government is fun to read about,¡± Alexandra explained.
¡°You mean the one where the people elect a new king every year?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Alexandra shook her head.
¡°Well, technically the Remans at this time had two heads of state that each sort of acted like co-monarchs and they were elected each year, but these elections were set up in a way that favored the wealthy,¡± Alexandra corrected.
¡°Oh¡ I didn¡¯t know that,¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°Yeah, for some reason, many people outside of the Strivalian peninsula know a lot about the imperial era of Reman history, but they don¡¯t really talk much about the republican or monarchical eras. I really want to impress Prince Francesco with my knowledge of that time in my next letter.¡± Alexandra said. A frown formed on Ekkehardt¡¯s face when he heard that Strettian prince¡¯s name.
¡°Oh¡ Um¡ shouldn¡¯t you wait to receive Prince Francesco¡¯s letter before you plan out your response?¡± Ekkehardt asked. There was a lot of concern in his voice.
¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about that Ekkehardt. Prince Francesco is a very busy man and he¡¯s probably just taking a lot of time to respond to me. He¡¯s probably working really hard preparing to rule Strettia, just like how Alexander is working really hard,¡± Alexandra responded. Ekkehardt knew that what Alexandra was saying wasn¡¯t true and not just because nobody in the world worked as hard as Alexander. He knew that Alexandra, on some level, had to know too. He had known her long enough to know that she wasn¡¯t stupid. His heart ached as he thought about this. He wasn¡¯t sure what to say. He knew that saying the truth out loud would just hurt her and that wasn¡¯t what she needed right now.
¡°Yeah, on second thought maybe it would be best to prepare a little bit before-hand so that you can get your response out to him a little bit faster¡¡± Ekkehardt said reluctantly.
¡°Oh! There it is!¡± Alexandra exclaimed as she pointed towards a codex on the bottom shelf. She bent over and picked up the large, leather-bound tome. She then proceeded to read the cover.
¡°The History of Reme, volumes 3-9 by Lucius Brando of Mizraimopolis¡ Metrovingian translation by Jean-Michel Descoteaux,¡± She read aloud as her enthusiasm quickly evaporated. She then let out a sigh.
¡°Oh¡ that was disappointing¡¡± Ekkehardt said. Alexandra opened the book and began to scan its contents.
¡°Well, I can still read it, but it¡¯s going to be a pain in the ass. I guess I¡¯ll take it and if we find an Alemanian translation, then we¡¯ll take that instead.¡± Alexandra said. She then handed the large codex to Ekkehardt and kept walking. They turned a corner and spotted a door that was left ajar. Alexandra¡¯s eyes widened with excitement as she knew exactly what that meant, even without reading the large sign that said ¡®Restricted Section¡¯. She then turned to Ekkehardt with a wide, mischievous smile on her face.
¡°No,¡± Ekkehardt responded. Alexandra¡¯s expression remained unchanged.
¡°Come on¡¡±
¡°No, I don¡¯t want to get you in trouble.¡±
¡°Nobody else is in here, Eike¡¡±
¡°Nope. We¡¯re not going in there again.¡±
¡°Nobody would even do anything if they found me. I¡¯m a princess, remember?¡±
¡°No.¡±
¡°We¡¯ll be in and out real quick.¡±
¡°No.¡±
¡°It¡¯ll just be a peek.¡±
¡°No.¡± Ekkehardt repeated. Alexandra stared at him with her big, sad, green eyes. After a few moments Ekkehardt shrugged.
¡°Fine, we¡¯ll go in¡¡± he said. The two of them then walked into a small dimly-lit room lined with bookshelves. There was also a small desk in the middle of the room. Alexandra began to quickly investigate the shelves as Ekkehardt watched the door. Alexandra skimmed through every title as fast as she could. She turned away from the shelf for a moment to sneeze. It was at that moment she realized that there was something different about the room. Something that had changed since the last time she was in there: A codex had been placed on the desk in the middle of the room. Alexandra walked over to investigate it. The codex was bound in black leather and its title read ¡®The Profane Bestiary¡¯ by Piotr Czarny. A thin piece of red parchment was placed into the codex like a bookmark and there was a letter placed next to it. The red parchment was placed at a point very close to the start of the codex. Alexandra picked up the letter and began to read it.
Dear Florian,
Adi and I were doing the inspection of the restricted section that you ordered when we found that one of the codices, ¡®The Profane Bestiary¡¯ by Piotr Czarny had a page missing. I¡¯ve marked the missing page with a piece of parchment for your convenience. To be completely honest with you, neither of us have any idea how this happened. According to our records, the codex entered our inventory sixty years ago and we don''t have any evidence that it was lent out or officially requested for on-site reading during that period. It¡¯s entirely possible that we received it in this condition. Regardless of what happened, I¡¯ve sent a letter to Mario Basso in Reme and Marcel Deschamps in Marais requesting either a spare copy of the codex or a transcription of the missing page. Either will allow us to repair the codex and return it to its original state. I wanted to ask if you could help me reach out to other libraries for assistance. I¡¯ve been told that you have a point of contact in Juttica that might be of assistance. Any help that you can provide us in this matter would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
Lars
P.S. Adi and I both think we need to update our security protocols for the Restricted Section. The way it is right now, someone with bad intentions could easily walk in and out without us knowing. We have some suggestions that we¡¯d like to run by you whenever you have free time.
Alexandra then set the letter back down on the table, right where she had picked it up from in the first place. She then opened the copy of ¡®The Profane Bestiary¡¯ to where the piece of red parchment was and started reading.
Chimera:
A creature with the supernatural ability to change shape between that of a human and that of an animal. It possesses both the intellect of man and the strength and reflexes of a beast. According to the writings of Drakon Makris the Younger (as recorded by Akakios Papadopoulos), Chimera were used as spies, assassins, bodyguards, and thugs during the Hellastani golden age. They would serve the powerful men of Hellastan from the shadows as they feuded amongst each other. It was only the Farcini invasion and the subsequent formation of the Hellastani League, which consolidated power within Hellastan in the hands of the King of Argeadia, when reports of Chimera began to decrease. Such reports slowed to a trickle during the League¡¯s conquest of Farcina and Mizraim and would all but cease by the time of Reme¡¯s ascendance as a major power within the region.
According to Akakios Papadopoulos, interest in the creation of Chimera would surface within certain circles of the Oriental Reman Empire¡¯s elite as the empire¡¯s decline became evident to all. Some believed that these creatures, if made in sufficient numbers and controlled by the empire, could turn their fortunes around. Papadopoulos would eventually rediscover the means by which one could create a Chimera, but by that point there was no changing the inevitable. I will now describe this foul process. It begins by acquiring¡
It was that point in which the text on the left page had ended. The subsequent page, as described in the letter, was torn out. Above the text, Alexandra could see a set of three images arraigned from left to right. The image on the left depicted a naked, muscular man holding a labrys in his right hand. The next image showed another humanoid figure that resembled the man, but this time it was larger and its head was replaced with that of a bull. The final picture, depicted a bull with a labrys lodged into the ground next to it.
Just as Alexandra was finished looking at the picture, she heard a door open in the distance.
¡°And this, your highness, is our library¡¡± A familiar voice announced.
¡°Alex, we need to get out of here!¡± Ekkhardt whispered. Alexandra quickly set the book down just like how she had found it. Then, both her and Ekkehardt got out of the Restricted Section as fast as humanly possible. They were far enough away when they rejoined Alexander that nobody suspected a thing. The term ¡®Chimera¡¯ was filed away in the back of Alexandra¡¯s mind as some little piece of trivia that she never expected to put to use. Life went on for Alexandra, just as it did for Ekkehardt, Siegfried, and Alexander.
What she didn¡¯t know, or more accurately, wasn¡¯t aware of, was that life went on for Lars the scribe as well. Two months after Alexandra¡¯s visit to the library he would receive a letter from Mario Basso of the church¡¯s grand archive in Reme. Mr. Basso wrote that the archive did, in fact, have a copy of The Profane Bestiary in its possession and that it did indeed have the page the Lars¡¯ copy was missing, but he wasn¡¯t going to transcribe it. He wrote that he had read the missing page¡¯s content and that it would be in everyone¡¯s interest if Lars¡¯s copy of the codex remained in its current state. Mr. Basso instructed Lars to put the codex back where he found it and forget about the missing page. He would receive a similar letter from Mr. Deschamps in Marais the following month. Lars decided to take the advice.
Chapter 27
The attack left everybody in Weisshart shaken. Over the course of a single night the village, despite the presence of visitors and additional soldiers, suddenly felt quieter and more lonely.
Children, who were usually either allowed to play or were made to help out in the field were now either interned within their homes or deposited within the blockhouse or the church, where they would be under the supervision of both the village¡¯s augmented garrison and a couple of old widows who had volunteered to be chaperones.
Many men, including those who were not a part of the village militia, had chosen to arm themselves. The burden of carrying a short sword or hatchet on one¡¯s belt while working in the field was considered to be a fair price to pay for the small amount of comfort it brought.
A similar number of women had come to the same conclusion. Zita Gerst took a hatchet that she and her husband used to split firewood for their oven and placed it into a basket that she carried with her whenever she had to leave the house. Her neighbor, Jessika Rottmann, Zita¡¯s friend who was the daughter of one of Wilhelm Metzger¡¯s creditors that would eventually assume ownership of his butcher shop, carried a meat cleaver in a similar fashion.
Even Markus Althaus, who was far too frail to properly handle a weapon, left the blockhouse at the crack of dawn and went back to his home to arm himself. He found a dusty old short sword in a crudely-made leather scabbard at the bottom of a chest full of his late father¡¯s old belongings. The old man found the heavy sword hanging from his belt to be rather uncomfortable. It wasn¡¯t long before he began to wonder if his choice to arm himself was one made out of a genuine interest in self-defense or an act of penance.
Alexandra awoke after an uncomfortable night in the blockhouse. She ate a meager breakfast of bread and salted pork before she heard a commotion from just outside of the blockhouse. Fearing another attack, she looked outside of the structure¡¯s entrance to investigate. To her relief, it was just a local farmer that had donated some milk from his cows to the soldiers in the blockhouse. The men garrisoned at the blockhouse were simply excited to have their rations supplemented with fresh milk. Alexandra, after her and Ekkehardt¡¯s falling out with Althaus the previous day, decided that it would not be a good idea to take some milk for herself. Just before she turned to go back inside, she spotted Elsa Bauer walking down the road.
The middle-aged woman walked down the road towards the east end of the village. She held the hand of a young child; a little girl no older than ten with blonde hair. Alexandra could also see that she had a sickle tucked into her belt.
Alexandra thought that she might walk up to the blockhouse and speak with her, but instead she went straight for the church on the opposite side of the road and began to talk to one of the two guards standing in front of the entrance.
¡°Hello, I would like to enter the church, please.¡±
¡°Are you here to leave your child?¡± the guard asked. Something within Elsa made her produce a disgusted face for a brief moment before she regained her composure. It was like someone tasting their own vomit in the back of their throat before quickly swallowing it back down.
¡°No, Elfriede will be staying with my husband and me,¡± She responded, ¡°I need to speak with Father Taggart.¡± The guard looked confused.
¡°Father Taggart? Well, okay I guess¡¡± He said before opening the door for her. Elsa and her child entered the church. Alexandra watched as the door closed behind her. Just as the door closed, Alexandra felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She turned around to see Ekkehardt.
¡°Schwartzbaum is ready to see us now,¡± He said.
Alexandra and Ekkehardt met with Schwartzbaum, Bob, and Fahim. They were on the second floor of the blockhouse. A rough map of the local area was spread out on a table in the middle of the room. Everyone else had been forced out so that this meeting could be conducted in private.
¡°We¡¯re ready to go over the plans for today,¡± Ekkehardt announced. Schwartzbaum nodded.
¡°Fahim,¡± He said in his raspy voice as he gestured towards the tan-skinned foreigner.
¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Fahim responded, ¡°If I may, I would like to direct his highness to this map of the Frauenwald,¡± He explained as he pointed to the map.
It depicted Weisshart on its western edge and the Frauenwald in the middle. In the exact center of the map was a large hill labeled ¡®Einsamer Hill¡¯. While this was not a true topographic map, Alexandra could see that Einsamer Hill had a unique feature in its shape. For the most part, from the perspective of someone looking directly above the hill like some kind of bird, Einsamer Hill had a gentle slope and an oval shape. The sole exception to this was a strange deformation in the hill''s south-eastern side. In this area, the hill had an extremely steep slope and it looked as though something had taken a bite out of the hill; marring its otherwise perfect oval shape.
The map also showed that there were three paths that went to the top of Einsamer Hill. They all curved around the hill to minimize their incline. There was a path that started on the north side of the hill and two paths that began on the west side of the hill with one to the north-west and one to the south-west. Naturally, they all steered clear of the deformed area on the hill¡¯s south-east side.
The final notable feature on the map was an east-facing arrow on the east end of the map. It simply read ¡®to the Eastern Passage¡¯. Alexandra assumed that this was in reference to a narrow mountain pass on the eastern side of Nordfell. This little pass was what connected Nordfell to the endless steppes to the east and it was where the Bergmen first entered this land.
¡°As I am sure that you are aware, we are currently in the village of Weisshart,¡± Fahim said as he grabbed a stick and pointed it at the point on the map that represented Weisshart. ¡°You are going to travel through the Frauenwald to Einsamer Hill,¡± He explained as he slowly moved the stick from Weisshart into the Frauenwald and towards Einsamer Hill. ¡°There are no roads or pathways in this area. It is all just forest with no hamlets or houses. This will significantly slow the party¡¯s advance. According to my calculations, it will take one day of travel to reach the base of the hill. Due to yesterday¡¯s events, attempts to hire local hunters as guides and auxiliary security have been unsuccessful. Thankfully, due the relatively short distance between Weisshart and Einsamer Hill and the presence of easily identifiable landmarks, I believe that the party can make this trek using nothing more than basic wayfinding techniques rather than more advanced land navigation methods,¡± Fahim explained.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡°...could you explain what you mean by ¡®basic wayfinding techniques¡¯, Mr. Fahim?¡± Alexandra asked without thinking. She didn¡¯t realize her mistake until the words left her lips. ¡®You idiot!¡¯ she thought, ¡®Alexander would know the difference between ¡®wayfinding this¡¯ and ¡®land navigation that¡¯!¡¯ Fahim was visibly unnerved. It took him a moment to decide how to respond without offending Alexandra.
¡°Well, you¡¯re highness¡ what I am saying is that the plan is to walk in a straight line towards the big hill¡ Since it is such a prominent geographical feature, it should be easy to use the hill as a landmark to aid in your wayfinding,¡± Fahim answered, ¡°As for the return trip, you should just be able to rely solely on dead reckoning to exit the Frauenwald. Once you do that, you should be able to spot Weisshart and make any necessary corrections. From that point on, you will resupply, touch base with the garrison, and make preparations to get back to Neustadt.¡±
¡°That sounds like a good plan,¡± Ekkehardt commented. Alexandra nodded in approval.
¡°Yes, I agree,¡± I said, though she was completely relying on Ekkehardt¡¯s opinion.
¡°Oh, there is another thing we need to get straightened out, your highness,¡± Fahim said, ¡°We need to talk about the actual scaling of the hill.¡± Alexandra nodded. Fahim then used his stick to direct Alexandra and Ekkehardt to the three paths up Einsamer Hill.
¡°As you can see here, there are three paths up the hill: the northern path, the north-west path, and the south-path. While you were with Mr. Althaus, I spent some time talking to local hunters about the nature of these paths; how wide and steep they were. They were not very familiar with these paths, but they directed me to a farmer¡¯s wife who described them to me. They are not paved in any way and they are not particularly wide. Therefore, I think it would be wise to divide the party when scaling the hill,¡± Fahim explained.
¡°Divide the party?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Yes. If you send everyone down one path then you will experience a great deal of congestion and possibly danger should someone get stuck or incapacitated. Furthermore, if the group is ambushed, then you wouldn¡¯t be able to use all of our manpower in such an environment anyways. It would be too cramped for everyone to fight effectively. For that reason, I am of the opinion that you approach the hill from its west side, which is the closest side to the village. From there you can divide the party into equal-size two groups; one that takes the north-west path and one that takes the south-west path. Based on what I¡¯ve been told, the northern path is of similar nature to the other two paths, but it is a few hours further away, so you shouldn¡¯t use it unless there is an emergency. The two groups will then reconvene on the top of the hill. Once that has happened, Mr. Schwartzbaum and Bob will allow you two to¡ conduct the activities you came here to conduct. You¡¯ll retrieve this sword, travel down the hill in two groups, and then deal with the dome. Does that sound reasonable, your highness?¡± Fahim explained. Alexandra made a quick, but subtle glance at Ekkehardt who did not appear to be bothered by the plan.
¡°I believe it does sound reasonable,¡± Alexandra answered, ¡°Though there is one detour that I think we should make before going up the hill. I would like to see the dome and the area surrounding it. We¡¯re going to need a basic understanding of that place before we open the dome. It is on the south-east side of Einsamer Hill, correct? ¡± Fahim nodded.
¡°Yes, your highness, that is correct,¡± Fahim responded, ¡°Specifically it is just below the cliff-like area of the hill. I believe it is just as far away from the north-west and south-west paths as the northern path is, but your party could get there without any significant difficulties. All you would have to do is travel along the southern side of the hill until we see it and, provided that our information is correct, we will see it. I¡¯ve also secured a week''s worth of food and water for this endeavor. This will probably be unnecessary, but it would be extremely beneficial if you have to deal with unforeseen events. Theoretically, you could supplement your food supply through foraging, but I wouldn¡¯t recommend that. I don¡¯t think it would be wise to send small teams out to forage for food right now.¡±
¡°Understood.¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°I believe that, despite the¡ situation that occurred yesterday, you should be able to complete your objectives safely. I have a great deal of faith in the abilities and judgment of Mr. Schwartzbaum, Bob, and all the men under their command. I look forward to rendezvousing with you upon your return to Weisshart,¡± Fahim stated. Schwartzbaum then cleared his throat and began to speak in his raspy voice.
¡°Actually, I¡¯ve decided to change my mind about that¡¡± Schwartzbaum said. Everyone in the room looked at him in confusion.
¡°I beg your pardon, sir?¡± Fahim asked.
¡°I think it would be best if we left Bob behind at the village and took you with us. The attack yesterday has left everyone spooked. It would be best to leave the village garrison in the hands of someone who''s a bit more intimidating and has more combat experience. We¡¯re going to need a real bone-crusher if we want to keep order around here. No offense, but these people are gonna be more likely to listen to Bob instead of some foreign-looking poindexter. Also, if we do end up getting lost in that forest, I wanna be lost with the guy who once did land navigation for a king and not the guy who once wiped his ass with poison ivy¡¡± Schwartzbaum explained. Bob¡¯s face turned red as a tomato.
¡°Either of you have a problem with this?¡± Schwartzbaum asked as he turned to his subordinates.
¡°No, sir¡¡± Fahim responded.
¡°Whatever you say, boss¡¡± Bob answered after a brief delay.
¡°Well, then that settles it. Let¡¯s head out¡¡± Schwartzbaum concluded.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the Frauenwald
Nashorn looked up from his map. Everyone was looking at him attentively. Hien? was still covered in bandages, but was once again ambulatory. It would only be a short time before she was completely healed.
¡°So, just to make sure, you all know what the plan is and where you need to be, correct?¡± He asked. Everyone in the group, even Hien? nodded in approval.
¡°Excellent¡¡± Nashorn said as he took one final look at the map. It was a map of Einsamer Hill and the Frauenwald, but it was much, much more detailed than the one in Schwartzbaum¡¯s possession. Nashorn had added few annotations and markings to the map in red ink; blood red ink. He sighed lightly. Nashorn began to fold up the map as he spoke a few words to close out the meeting.
¡°Soon this will all be over and that royal brat will not know what hit her¡¡±
Chapter 28
Schwartzbaum¡¯s party made camp in a clearing somewhere in the Frauenwald. The party consisted of thirty-four horses, thirty-three men, and Alexandra. Once they decided to stop for the night, Schwartzbaum¡¯s men quickly got to work building a crude defense perimeter around the campsite. Within two hours, a group of twenty men under Fahim¡¯s supervision constructed an octagon-shaped cluster of fighting positions. These positions were little more than simple waist-high wooden walls and shallow earthworks. They would not be able to take much of a beating, but they would be able to provide some cover against projectiles. Each of the eight defensive positions would be manned at all times by two men during the night. Schwartzbaum¡¯s men were divided into two shifts; one that would keep watch during the first half of the night and one that would keep watch during the second half.
As darkness began to fall, the forest began to take on a more sinister character. Soldiers constantly felt a pit grow in their stomachs as they saw what looked like a figure lurking on the periphery of the campsite. They would all then breathe a sigh of relief as they realized it was just a branch or odd-looking rock. None of them paid any attention to an owl perched on a branch high above them.
Shortly before going to bed, Schwartzbaum, Fahim, Ekkhardt, and Alexandra decided to pass the time by playing cards. They played poker with a deck of tarot cards1 and a set of painted wooden chips. Fahim shuffled the deck and passed out the cards. The game seemed to do little to change the group¡¯s mood, so Alexandra decided to speak up.
¡°So, Fahim, if you don¡¯t mind me asking, how did you end up working for Schwartzbaum?¡± she asked.
¡°Oh, well, your highness, it¡¯s not much of a story. I was born in Mizraim, on the banks of the great Iteru2 river. My father had saved the life of the pasha of Mizraim some years prior, when we were attacked by invaders from the south. In a display of gratitude for his service, the pasha financed my education. I was sent to one of the best schools in Mizraimopolis, where I studied architecture, engineering, medicine and other things. I wanted to become an architect, but my family and I were forced to flee Mizraim when it was discovered that the pasha was plotting against the sultan. We ended up in Ibnathamra3. I needed work and I ended up finding it. I was hired as an engineer for their king,¡± Fahim explained. He then paused to take a sip from his flask.
¡°He was fighting a war in Iberistan, or what would eventually become Iberistan. The king wanted me to help him build siege engines. It paid well, though I¡¯d rather be building walls than tearing them down. Anyways, as I¡¯m sure you know, Ibnathamra ended up losing the war. The King of Iberistan crushed our army; completely routed us. The lucky ones managed to get on a boat and escape from the peninsula, but I got captured. Statistically speaking, I would have almost certainly ended up chained to an oar on a slave galley if it wasn¡¯t for Schwartzbaum¡¡± Fahim said only to be interrupted by Ekkehardt.
¡°Statistically? What do you mean by that?¡± he asked. Schwartzbaum sighed.
¡°Fahim, speak Alemanian¡¡± He grumbled.
¡°Sorry sir. I mean to say that I would have most likely ended up chained to an oar on a slave galley if it wasn¡¯t for Schwartzbaum.¡± Fahim reiterated. He then picked up where he left off.
¡°Schwartzbaum had fought for Iberistan during the war and was rather impressed by the siege engines I made. He also didn¡¯t have a problem working with a Samudaayian.¡± Fahim explained.
¡°Well, it was actually that and the fact that your predecessor had a spear run through him during the last siege¡¡± Schwartzbaum added.
¡°Anyways, after I was hired by Schwartzbaum, I quickly started learning Alemanian and went to work all over the continent. We were able to keep our profits high for the first few years, but work started getting harder and harder to come by. The system of alliances the emperor set up over the course of the last decade has created an unusual period of peace on the continent. We had to spend a couple of years hunting down bandits for pocket change. A lot of men decided to not renew their contracts and we began to hemorrhage personnel. We probably would have had to disband if the boss didn¡¯t get us a contract with the count,¡± Fahim explained.
¡°That¡¯s something I was wondering about,¡± Ekkehardt chimed in, ¡°How is the count able to afford having a mercenary company around?¡±
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°It¡¯s simple really, we don¡¯t have much in the way of options right now, so we¡¯re willing to take what we can get. The pay is sub-optimal, but there is always a high enough threat level to justify our presence. Before we came here we had to travel from country to country looking for bandits to hunt down or villagers to pacify, but here we have steady work. Of course, if another war breaks out somewhere on the continent then we will leave the moment our contract expires.¡± Fahim explained before stopping to take a sip from his flask.
¡°Personally, I think that the next large conflict will be Iberistan invading Ibnathamra, but I¡¯ve never been much of a fortune-teller¡¡± He concluded. There was a brief silence that was only broken by Ekkehardt speaking up.
¡°So, this is unrelated, but do either of you know exactly why the villagers are afraid of this forest?¡± He asked. Schwartzbaum and Fahim looked at each other for a moment.
¡°Well¡¡± Fahim began, ¡°I highly doubt the veracity of what I¡¯m about to say, but I talked to an old hunter in the village yesterday. He told me that everyone thought that a witch lived in this forest a long time ago; before the murders,¡± he explained.
¡°I think Althaus said something similar¡¡± Alexandra added.
¡°The hunter told me that he had a friend, who was also a hunter. This friend told him that he had seen this witch in the flesh,¡± Fahim began.
¡°Oh really? Althaus never mentioned anything about this?¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°Well, I only know what I¡¯ve been told,¡± Fahim replied, ¡°Anyways, the hunter¡¯s friend was once wandering this forest. It was a year or two after the end of the Time of Red Snow. Things had improved, but they were still not good. The friend was determined not to go home until he had killed enough game to feed his family. He stalked this forest under a cloudy night sky with no moon or stars. He came upon a small pond in the middle of the forest. At first he thought it would be a good place to lie in wait for a deer, but he quickly discovered that he was not alone. In the middle of the pond, waist deep in water, there was a beautiful woman. The friend would describe her to the hunter I spoke as ¡®angelic¡¯; unlike any woman that he had ever seen in his life,¡± Fahim narrated before pausing to take a sip from his flask.
¡°The hunter¡¯s friend was awestruck by her before he even saw her face. She was so beautiful that he couldn¡¯t speak up or move. He just watched her on the periphery of the pond as she bathed. He said that she had long brown hair and perfect, marble-white skin. When she turned around he saw her alluring face and blue eyes, but she didn¡¯t see him. For this brief moment, he was completely infatuated with her. She was an enigma to him. Why was she here? What is she doing? He said that he wanted to speak up or reveal himself; do something that might make him something other than a voyeur and potential threat, but he couldn¡¯t. In that moment he was overcome with intense lust and longing, but couldn¡¯t bring himself to act. Then everything changed. There was a break in the cloud cover and in an instant the butterflies in his stomach and rigidity in his manhood was replaced by ice in his blood and the specter of vomit in his throat. The woman had transformed into something foul and unspeakable. The hunter¡¯s friend was once again frozen, but this time from fear. He stiffened like a statue as he tried to process what had just happened. Then, the creature looked in his general direction and, in a raspy voice, it asked ¡®Who¡¯s there?¡¯¡± Fahim narrated, doing his best impression of Schwartzbaum to illustrate the creature¡¯s voice. He then took yet another sip from his flask before continuing.
¡°The man dropped his bow and bolted from the pond. Everything became a blur as he sprinted through the forest. He didn¡¯t even make a conscious effort to return to the village, he just ran. He didn¡¯t remember much of what happened next. He was found by a farmer the next day; passed out in a wheatfield. His clothes were torn, his lips were chapped, his feet were blistered, his eyes were bloodshot, and his face and arms were covered in scratches from thorns and branches. It was only after receiving food and medical care when he told his story to the hunter. He made a full recovery, but he never went into the forest after dark ever again¡¡± Fahim concluded. For a moment, there was silence.
¡°Well, congratulations Fahim, now nobody in this camp is going to get any sleep¡¡± Schwarzbaum remarked. He then sighed.
¡°Isn¡¯t it time for us to reveal our hands?¡± He then asked. Fahim decided to reveal his hand first.
¡°Not my best day. All I got is a high card: The Tower,¡± He said with a sigh.
¡°I got one pair: Nine of Swords and The Hermit,¡± Ekkehardt announced. Schwartzbaum went next.
¡°Two pairs: Ace of Swords, Ace of Wands, Eight of Swords, and Eight of Wands¡¡± He said. The group then turned to Alexandra, who began to lay out her cards one by one.
¡°Nine of Cups¡ Ten of Wands¡ Page of Coins¡ Knight of Cups¡ and¡ Death!¡± She proclaimed. Fahim and Ekkehardt nodded in approval.
¡°Nice one, your highness,¡± Fahim congratulated.
¡°I never knew you were good at poker,¡± Ekkehardt remarked.
¡°I think I just got lucky,¡± Alexandra replied. The group then put away the cards and the chips before laying down to sleep.
Alexandra took one last look into the dark forest before closing her eyes. She fought a desperate battle in her mind as she tried to keep herself from dwelling on Fahim¡¯s story. Alexandra knew she had to focus on the day ahead, but she couldn¡¯t stop herself from reaching the same conclusion over and over again: If she knew that there were two monsters in the Frauenwald, then why can¡¯t there be a third?
Chapter 29
A loud clack rang from the empty barn as two wooden training swords connected. Even though he was some distance away, Siegfried could hear it clearly as he hobbled towards the structure. He moved with the aid of a wooden crutch as his right leg was still encased in a combination of splints and bandages. His left arm, which was slung across his chest, was in a similar predicament. A short and untidy blond beard was now growing on his face. A single tired blue eye looked out into the world as the now-empty socket to its left and the forehead above it were covered in bandages.
Siegfried peered into the barn to see two individuals sparring with wooden training swords. They were both wearing padded leather helmets that covered the lower two-thirds of their faces. As he entered the barn, the larger of the two quickly got the upper hand. They delivered a series of heavy strikes against their opponent in quick succession. The smaller of the two combatants was just barely able to parry each strike. It seemed to Siegfried as though their body buckled in response to every parried attack. Eventually the torrent of attacks was too much. The training sword was knocked out of their hands and launched into the air before landing in a pile of hay. The now-disarmed fighter dropped to their knees and began to breathe heavily. The victor tapped the tip of their sword against their opponent¡¯s chest. The victor then took off his helmet to reveal a head of blond hair.
¡°Your stance was off again,¡± Ekkehardt remarked. His opponent took off their mask to reveal a pale, freckled face and topped with an orange buzz-cut. For a moment Siegfried¡¯s eye lit up as he looked at the familiar face underneath the helmet.
¡°Your huh¡ Alexandra¡± The words tumbling out of his mouth as he realized his error, ¡°...You cut your hair?¡± He asked. Alexandra, now sweaty and barely able to breath, put together a response.
¡°Yeah¡¡± she replied in between breaths. Ekkehardt sheathed the wooden sword and extended a hand to Alexandra. She took it and got back on her feet. Ekkehardt then looked back to his brother and allowed a small smile to form on his lips. He then walked up to his brother.
¡°Is everything okay?¡± Ekkehardt asked. Siegfried nodded.
¡°Rasmussen decided that I¡¯m healthy enough to be let out of his care. Well, that and he¡¯s been very busy lately. Agrippina¡¯s people are looking at him with a lot of scrutiny and he¡¯s been forced to take in a lot of poorer customers lately in order to make ends meet. It wouldn¡¯t have been safe for me to stay, even if they still think I¡¯m dead,¡± He answered.
¡°I see. What happens now?¡±
¡°For now, I¡¯m Hans Schmidt, Isidor¡¯s fourth son. I¡¯ve recently returned from Sviaria-Soumland, where I fought against pagan tribes in the far north of the kingdoms on behalf of King Carl the Seventh. I was injured in an accident while riding home,¡± Siegfried explained. Ekkehardt nodded.
¡°Well¡ it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Schmidt,¡± Ekkehardt joked.
Sir Isidor Schmidt was a knight who owned a small estate near K?nigsstadt on which he grew wheat and raised cattle. He was deeply indebted to Rasmussen after he saved one of his ill sons from the brink of death some time prior. It also helped that he and his family were deeply fond of Alexander as he was responsible for the construction and maintenance of a number of roads and bridges that the estate greatly benefited from. They had been brought into the conspiracy against Agrippina and fully informed of the events that had transpired within the imperial palace.
As for Agrippina, the group could not observe her exact actions, but it was clear that she had decided to keep things under wraps for the time being. Her and her collaborators had taken control of the palace and canceled all of Alexander¡¯s upcoming public appearances. They had wisely crafted a cover story that explained Alexander¡¯ absence from public life. They claimed that a group of violent occultists had sent death threats to Prince Alexander and the imperial family. They also arranged the murder of several commoners within the city and took great care to make it appear as though they had been killed for the purpose of conducting some sort of dark ritual.
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The fabricated occultist insurgency had another impact that greatly benefited Agrippina: Emperor Alexander, the father of Agrippina, Alexandra, and the prince, had decided to extend his stay in the imperial winter palace in Peschtia, figuring that a return to K?nigsstadt would be an unnecessary risk. It didn¡¯t hurt that he also still had much work to do in Peschtia. This move effectively granted Agrippina a free hand to do as she pleased in K?nigsstadt.
¡°How have you and the princess been holding up?¡± Siegfried asked.
¡°It¡¯s been as good as it can be, all things considered. Vilmos was able to smuggle us out of the city without any issues and ¡®your father¡¯ has been very kind to us. Unfortunately, that doesn¡¯t change the fact that I¡¯m now a wanted man. I¡¯m not going to lie, it¡¯s hard to sleep knowing that I could wake up to a room full of Agrippina¡¯s men, but there¡¯s nothing I can do about it at the moment,¡± Ekkehardt explained.
¡°And what about Alexandra? How is her training going?¡± Siegfried asked. Ekkehardt sighed.
¡°You¡¯ve seen for yourself. What else is there to say?¡± Ekkehardt replied.
¡°Yeah, that wasn¡¯t her best moment, but you weren¡¯t holding much back. I¡¯m not going to argue against the validity of this sort of¡ high intensity immersive training, but don¡¯t you think she would be better off learning the basics first? Don¡¯t you think that having her spar against you or even someone who has half your expertise is putting the cart before the horse?¡± Siegfried asked.
¡°You¡¯re right, but unfortunately we don¡¯t have the time to do that, Siegfried. If it was up to me, I would teach her the same way Dad and Uncle Willi taught us, but that¡¯s not an option right now,¡± Ekkehardt argued. Siegfried thought about it for a moment.
¡°I hate to admit it, but you might be right. Do you know when you are leaving?¡± Siegfried asked.
¡°I think we should leave next week at the earliest, though Alex wants to leave sooner. We have to get ahead of whatever Agrippina¡¯s planning, but Alex isn¡¯t ready yet,¡± Ekkehardt answered before turning back to Alexandra, who was still digging her sword out of a pile of hay.
¡°I think I should go with you.¡± Siegfried said to his brother. Ekkehardt looked at him in confusion.
¡°Siegfried, you can¡¯t be serious. You¡¯re in no condition to fight right now,¡± Ekkehardt responded.
¡°I¡¯ll heal up real soon. Save for my eye, I¡¯ll probably be back to full strength by the time you get to Nordfell.¡±
¡°You and I both know that that¡¯s not what Rasmussen said. Besides, you¡¯re in no shape to travel right now. It¡¯s a miracle you got here in one piece in the first place,¡± Ekkehardt argued.
¡°I can tough it out, Ekkehardt. You know that. If I could survive everything dad and Uncle Willi threw at us, then I can survive a little trip to Nordfell,¡± Siegfried retorted.
¡°Dad and Uncle Willi never broke two of your limbs, stabbed you in the head twice and then told you to walk it off. They taught us where our limits were and how far we could push them. I understand you want to help us, but with the shape you¡¯re in, you¡¯re more likely to get us all killed. That¡¯s not what our job is,¡± Ekkehardt responded. Suddenly something inside Siegfried snapped. His expression changed instantly. It was as though his face was turned into that of a rabid dog¡¯s.
¡°What the fuck do you know about our job you stupid fucking cunt! I¡¯ve been busting my ass protecting his highness while you were playing librarian in that tower like a bitch! You don¡¯t know shit about my limits you fuck¡¡± Siegfried erupted. He was only cut off when he felt a sharp pain in his forehead and began to lose balance. Ekkehardt caught him before he could hit the ground. Alexandra, who had now found her sword, was watching everything unfold with great concern. After a brief silence, Siegfried began to speak.
¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ There is something wrong with me, Ekkehardt. I haven¡¯t been well since I was stabbed¡ I¡¯m so sorry¡¡± he said as a tear began to form in his eye. Siegfried had regained his balance, but his brother still held him tightly.
Chapter 30
Alexandra, Siegfried, and Ekkehardt stepped into a small cottage on Sir Isidor Schmidt¡¯s estate. It was an incredibly small cob structure with a thatched roof. It was just barely big enough for two people to live in, but still better than the dungeon they had escaped from.
Inside, the scribe Adi Schumacher was waiting for them. He sat on a chair behind a square wooden dining table.
¡°Hello, your highness. I trust that ¡®Hans¡¯ informed you of my presence?¡± Schumacher asked. Alexandra nodded her head and then began to take a seat.
¡°Yes. He said that you wanted to talk to us; that you had some information about Nordfell,¡±
¡°That is correct,¡± He replied as Ekkehardt and Siegfried also took a seat at the table. Alexandra then saw a subtle look of concern appear on Schumacher¡¯s face as he glanced at Siegfried.
¡°...Uh¡ Siegfried, are you doing alright?¡± He asked.
¡°I¡¯m fine, sir.¡± the young man responded. Alexandra could tell that Schumacher wasn¡¯t completely convinced.
¡°Okay. Well, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware, there isn¡¯t much I can do to help in terms of providing you with material or muscle. However, there are two things I can help you with. First, I managed to steal a couple of maps from the archives for you. Technically speaking, they had been lent out to a library in Peschtia by a recently deceased scribe. Knowing how we run things, it should be awhile before they realize that the maps are missing.¡± Schumacher explained as he produced a few rolled-up maps from a satchel and handed them to Alexandra. Alexandera and Ekkehardt took a moment to unroll one of the maps and examine it. Ekkehardt nodded in approval.
¡°The second thing I have for you is a history lesson. I went into our archives and read everything I could find on Nordfell. Now, what do you know about Nordfell?¡± Schumacher asked.
¡°Not much. Only that it¡¯s the ¡®rectum of the empire¡¯,¡± Ekkehardt answered.
¡°All I know is that it was used for the resettlement of criminals and¡ uh¡ dissidents at some point in time,¡± Alexandra said.
¡°I see,¡± Schumacher responded, ¡°Well, I guess I should start at the beginning. Are either of you familiar with the Bergman Horde?¡± Alexandra nodded her head.
¡°Yes. They were nomadic horsemen from the east; the Endless Eastern Steppe to be specific. Hundreds of years ago they invaded Yerb. They destroyed armies, razed cities, and then, for seemingly no reason at all, they just left,¡± Alexandra answered.
¡°Well, I guess it wouldn¡¯t be much of a surprise if I told you that, even generations after they left, many of Yerb¡¯s royal families were still afraid of them. One of your ancestors decided that he needed a sort of bulwark in the east of his territories; some way to keep the Bergmen at bay in case they ever returned. He sent explorers and surveyors to investigate the eastern mountains that stood between the steppe and his domain. They noticed that, for the Bergmen, there was only one easy way to pass through the mountains: a strange, relatively flat region right in the middle of the mountain range that was connected to both the kingdom and the eastern steppe through a pair of narrow passes. Since it would be cheaper to fight Bergmen in that place than in the kingdom, he should have it settled,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°And I¡¯m guessing that this was the place that would eventually become Nordfell?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Yes. But there was still a big problem: settling the land. Sure it was safe from any threat, save for the Bergmen, but it was cold and the soil was of poor quality. Very few people wanted to live there. The royal house eventually found a simple solution: round up every beggar, debitor, prostitute, and petty criminal they could find and send them to Nordfell. Naturally, most of them died either en route or within a year of their arrival. For a while Nordfell was little more than a collection of small outposts populated by Alemanian, Bratiprahian, and Peschtian riff-raff, but everything changed when the Osminite Empire attacked. As I¡¯m sure you know, their army was routed and they ended up being kicked out of Remina, eastern Peschtia, and the northern parts of Suidmania,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°Yes. That¡¯s how my dynasty came to control those lands. My ancestors filled the void that the Osminites left in their wake. Many people over there weren¡¯t exactly happy to trade one foreign ruler for another, but that is what ended up happening.¡± Alexandra replied.
¡°Well, your highness, I don¡¯t know if ¡®weren¡¯t exactly happy¡¯ is the best way of putting it,¡± Schumacher replied, ¡°There were a number of rebellions that popped up in the territories that had just entered Ostermania¡¯s sphere of influence. We managed to defeat each and every one of them. Their leaders were killed and many of the participants were rounded up and resettled in Nordfell. These deportees would fare a little better on their journey to Nordfell than the criminals and impoverished people who preceded them, but many of them would still die. During the first few years there were some people who tried to escape back to their homeland, but the Ostermanian army controlled the western mountain pass that led back into Yerb. They were still free to leave through the eastern mountain pass, but all that led to was the steppe. Few, if any, tried to do that. After a generation or two people stopped trying to escape. A few years later, the people of the empire found out that the Bergman horde collapsed due to infighting, and all that remained of it were hundreds of small tribes and petty kingdoms that were too busy killing each other to concern themselves with the continent. Once the ruler of Ostermania (who I believe was an emperor at this point instead of just a grand duke) found out about this, Nordfell ceased to be a militarily strategic region and more or less became just another county; one that just so happens to be full of the descendants of rebels and criminals,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°¡®A county full of the descendants of rebels and criminals¡¡¯¡± Ekkehardt quietly repeated. Schumacher nodded.
¡°That is correct, even if you were to include the noble family running it. Actually, it would be especially correct if you were to include the noble family running it. Have any of you heard of the name ¡®von Brandt¡¯?¡± Schumacher asked. Ekkehardt, Alexandra, and Siegfried all shook their head.
¡°I can¡¯t say I have,¡± Alexandra responded.
¡°Oh. Well, would the name, ¡®von Giftbaum¡¯ ring a bell?¡± Schumacher asked. Siegfried and Ekkehardt both still looked confused, but Alexandra appeared to remember something.
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¡°Actually¡ yes. I believe I have heard that name before. I think that the von Giftbaums were an Alemanian noble family that mistreated their peasants and rebelled against my dynasty. Is that correct?¡± Alexandra answered.
¡°Well, that is more or less correct, but also a gross understatement,¡± Schumacher answered, ¡°The von Giftbaum family were the progenitors of the von Brandt family. They were known to have a history of cruelty that stretches back to the time when the Alemanian people were pagans that lived in mud huts. As far back as anyone could remember they were nothing more than a pack of hateful and malicious little shits; not just the men, but the women too! I read an anecdote from one source that said that if noble families had a child that was misbehaving, they would scare them straight by saying: ¡®Straighten up, or we¡¯ll marry you to a von Giftbaum!¡¯¡±.
¡°Anyways, in the years before the first Osminite war, the family had a modest amount of power and wealth; a castle and a couple of counties in Peschtia. These two counties were, at that time, terrible places for the peasants. They were nearly taxed into starvation, the constabulary was nothing more than a gang of (sometimes literal) thugs that were given the right to victimize the populace as they saw fit, servants in the castle were frequently beaten within a hair¡¯s breadth of death for little to no reason, and every now and then peasants (mostly girls and young women, but sometimes boys as well) would just disappear only to turn up dead in a cesspit a few months later,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°So, that¡¯s why they were tasked with overseeing Nordfell; to punish them for these crimes?¡± Siegfried asked. Schumacher shook his head.
¡°No. I don¡¯t wish to¡ insult present company, but the von Adlers of the time were¡ willing to turn a blind eye to these acts of indiscretion as long as the von Giftbaums remained loyal to them,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°Schumacher, I appreciate the sensitivity, but after knowing Agrippina for all these years, I¡¯m willing to accept the premise that some members of my family might not be saints,¡± Alexandra chimed in. A little smirk briefly appeared on Schumacher and Ekkehardt¡¯s faces.
¡°Alright, to put it bluntly, the von Adlers of the time didn¡¯t care about anything that the von Giftbaums did as long as they remained loyal and didn¡¯t cause any trouble for the other members of the nobility. This all changed during the first Osminite war. In the early part of the war the Osminites won a series of impressive victories. All of this was preceded by over a century of the Osminites winning other wars with other countries and expanding their territory. The head of the von Giftbaums, being the treacherous little snake that he was, didn¡¯t even bother mobilizing his soldiers when the war began. He thought a decisive Osminite victory was a forgone conclusion, so he simply waited for the Osminte army to march into his land and declared his allegiance to them; offering them support in the war effort in exchange for being made a governor of what he thought was going to be a new Osminite province. According to one source I read, he literally prostrated himself before the Osminite sultan and renounced his loyalty to both the von Adlers and the Kroppian faith before offering a large portion of the peasants living in his lands to the invaders as slaves,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°To the surprise of many observers, the sultan was so disgusted by the count¡¯s spinelessness and moral bankruptcy that he had the man stripped naked, publicly flogged, and imprisoned in his own dungeon alongside his entire family. The castle was then looted by the Osminites. They took all of the grain and gold they could carry and left a small force of third-rate soldiers behind to garrison the castle,¡± Schumacher continued.
¡°Did your sources say why the sultan did that?¡± Alexandra asked. Schumacher shook his head.
¡°Well, some sympathetic to the Samudaayian faith describe what the sultan did as the righteous actions of a liberator who was only trying to do what was right for the people in the lands he conquered. However, those within the church as well as those sources that were loyal to the empire describe the sultan¡¯s actions as purely pragmatic. They say that he was a cunning leader that wanted to win over the people he just conquered while also getting rid of someone who clearly could not be trusted. I personally don¡¯t know. Both narratives could be true. You could argue that this was a situation where the right thing to do was also the most convenient choice,¡± Schumacher answered before taking a moment to catch his breath.
¡°Anyways,¡± Schumacher continued, ¡°The Osminite army continued marching through western Peschtia and into Ostermania, where the sultan did another thing that took everyone by surprise.¡±
¡°And what was that?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°He died,¡± Schumacher responded, ¡°The sources from the church refer to this event as an act of divine intervention, but we should probably keep in mind that this guy was at least eighty years old at this point. The sultan¡¯s sudden death and the political instability that came with it caused a wave of panic to spread through the Osminite army. They attempted to make a retreat back to eastern Peschtia, but the empire was able to use these events to its advantage and turned what was going to be an orderly retreat into a massacre. We were able to not only retake the land that we lost, but also annex the Osminite controlled part of Peschtia as well as the entirety of Remina.¡±
¡°Okay, but what about the von Giftbaums?¡± Ekkehardt asked.
¡°Well, when the army marched through Peschtia, one of the things they did was retake Giftbaum castle, where the count was imprisoned. The Osminite garrison, being severely outnumbered, inexperienced, cut off from their allies, and low on food, surrendered to the Ostermanians and allowed them to retake the castle without a fight. While in captivity, the Osminite garrison told their captors of the von Giftbaums¡¯ attempted betrayal. Their stories were corroborated by the local peasantry, many of whom had been forced into manacles and other such restraints before the sultan¡¯s arrival in preparation for them to be offered as slaves. The grand duke of Ostermania decided to leave the von Giftbaums imprisoned in their own dungeon and continue the war. Three years later, when the war had concluded, the von Giftbaums were brought before the now-emperor and told that they would be stripped of all of their titles and holdings. They were then given a choice: either accept rule over the newly-created county of Nordfell or die. The patriarch of their family went with the first of the two options and frankly, I can¡¯t say if he made the right choice.¡±
¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°Ever since their patriarch accepted the title of count of Nordfell and took up residence in Brandt castle, the family suffered from misfortune upon misfortune. The initial shock of going from a rather wealthy noble family in control of two counties to becoming poorer than some of the wealthier barons within the empire was bad enough, but that was only the beginning. The von Giftbaums, now the von Brandts, became pariahs within the Ostermanian nobility. Nobody wanted to touch them, whether that be in terms of military support, financial support, or (most importantly) marriage. Very few members of the nobility ended up marrying into that family and the few who did only did so, because they had nowhere else to go. This greatly thinned their numbers. It also didn¡¯t help that, after moving to Nordfell, the family appeared to develop a propensity to either give birth to children with deformities or die young. I heard that the most recent generation of the family is a good example of this. The patriarch is a childless cri¡ uh¡ invalid who murdered his siblings long ago to gain control of the county,¡± Schumacher explained.
¡°What an unpleasant man¡¡± Alexandra remarked. She felt sick in the stomach just from the thought of being in the same room as that man.
¡°And that¡¯s about everything that I¡¯ve learned about Nordfell,¡± Schumacher concluded.
¡°Thank you, Adi,¡± Alexandra said.
¡°You¡¯re welcome, your highness. Now, I¡¯m afraid that I must get back to the city. I don¡¯t think anyone is looking at me with much scrutiny, but my excuse for being here is already flimsy enough as it is,¡±
¡°That¡¯s not an issue,¡± Ekkehardt replied, ¡°You¡¯ve already gone above and beyond for us.¡± Schumacher¡¯s lips curled into a small smile.
¡°Thank you. Now, unless you have any messages you need me to convey to Rasmussen or any of the others, I¡¯ll be off.¡± Schumacher said. The three of them shook their heads. Ekkehardt opened the door for Schumacher and the three of them watched the lone scribe walk down the dirt trail to the end of Sir Isidor Schmidt¡¯s estate until his figure disappeared into the horizon.
Chapter 31
Rose awoke early in the morning beneath a dark-blue sky. For some reason, she did not go through her morning routine with her usual lethargy. For some reason, she felt energized and full of life. For once she seemed to feel a sense of excitement; as though she was on the cusp of experiencing something good. Yes, she was going to be helping uncle Klaus and Ignazio today, but she never got this excited about that.
Rose quickly scarfed down her breakfast, cleaned out two guest rooms, and retrieved a few loaves of fresh bread from the local bakery. Before she left for her uncle¡¯s shop, she reported to her mother.
¡°I¡¯ve cleaned the two rooms and brought the bread just like you asked, mother,¡± she announced to her mother, who was busy sewing a hole she found in one of the sheets she had recently had returned to her from the laundress.
¡°Okay,¡± Her mother said without looking up.
¡°So I can go and spend the day with uncle Klaus, right?¡± Rose asked. Her mother remained expressionless and once again did not look up from the sheets.
¡°Sure,¡± she replied. A big smile formed on Rose¡¯s face.
¡°Great! Thank you, mom!¡± she replied before starting to exit the tavern. Just as she was about to leave, she ran into her father, Fritz Zimmermann.
¡°Hey, where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± He barked. Rose stopped dead in her tracks.
¡°To uncle Klaus¡¯s workshop. Mom said that I could help him out today if I did all of my morning chores,¡± Rose answered.
¡°Klaus? Why do you need to go to his workshop? You should be here learning to take over the inn. I don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re going to learn from him¡¡±
¡°Uncle Klaus is a really smart man and I learn a lot about carpentry from him¡¡± Rose argued, struggling to string together an argument. Fritz was not at all moved by his daughter¡¯s words.
¡°Klaus¡ There is a lot about Klaus that you don¡¯t understand and I don¡¯t think you should be spending too much time with him,¡± Fritz said. A frown formed on Rose¡¯s face.
¡°I¡¯ll let you go, but I¡¯m going to talk to your mother about this. You don¡¯t need bad influences like him in your life,¡± Fritz concluded.
¡°Okay dad¡¡± Rose responded. She then turned around and began to walk away. She felt as though her father, with just one brief conversation, had completely deflated; drained her of all of her energy. She wanted to cry as she dug her hands into her pockets. To her surprise, she felt a metallic disk in one of her pockets: the silver coin that Nashorn had given her the other night. She felt a little bit of hope return to her as she remembered that her father often talked big talk about cutting Klaus out of her life, but never really followed up on it. She then thought once again about that strange pale man from the other other night and what he made her feel. Maybe everything was going to be alright.
A short time later
Rose let herself into Klaus¡¯s workshop. It was a large building made of wood and stone with a workspace on the first floor and private lodging for Klaus and Ignazio Caro, a journeyman carpenter that worked alongside him, on the second. The floor of the workspace was covered in sawdust and various tools hung on the wall. Rose could see various pieces of wood lying on a table. It took her a moment to figure it out, but she eventually deduced that this was a chair that had yet to be completed.
Rose called out to her uncle. When she heard no response, she called out to Ignazio. He did not respond either. Rose began to grow concerned, as Klaus and Ignazio were usually fast at work at this time of the day and, in the event one of them had to leave the workshop, they would usually leave the other behind to keep an eye on things.
Just as Rose began to consider turning back and going home, the door flung open as two men stumbled into the workshop.
¡°I should have killed that piece of shit! I should have cut his tongue out right then and there! How dare he use what God gave him to speak of you like that!¡± A muscular man in his early thirties barked. He had olive skin and curly dark-brown hair. There were a number of bruises on his face as well as his fists. In addition to all of that, his right eye was bruised.
¡°Goddammit Iganzio, you can¡¯t keep getting into fights like this. This is not how we¡¯re going to keep this fucking operation afloat¡¡± the blonde-haired man holding him responded, only to be cut off by Rose.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
¡°Ignazio! What the hell happened?¡± she exclaimed.
¡°Rosie!¡± The two men blurted out simultaneously. The blonde-haired man quickly regained his composure.
¡°Oh, thank God you¡¯re here, Rosie. Ignazio got himself into a fight with one of our clients and I¡¯m going to need some help. There are some clean rags and herbs in the backroom. Could you grab them for us?¡± the blonde-haired man asked.
¡°No problem, uncle,¡± Rose responded. She quickly bolted through a door and returned with the supplies Klaus requested. They both got to work patching Ignazio up.
Neither Rose nor Klaus were doctors by any means, but they were able to clean and dress Iganzio¡¯s wounds sufficiently. Upon closer inspection, even a layperson like Klaus could see that Ignazio¡¯s wounds were not at all severe enough to leave lasting issues; provided that they did not become infected. Once Ignazio was patched up, Rose began to speak.
¡°Uncle, what happened? Why did your client beat up Ignazio?¡± she asked.
¡°Well actually, I¡¯ll have you know that it was the other way around: I beat him up. He was on the ground by the time your uncle pulled me off of him,¡± Ignazio interjected.
¡°Goddammit Iggy, this is not the sort of thing you should be bragging about; especially in front of Rose,¡± Klaus snapped. Ignazio sighed.
¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ignazio said. He then turned to Rose, ¡°One of our clients said some very bad things about your uncle and¡ well I lost my cool and attacked him,¡± he explained.
¡°What did he say about you, uncle?¡± Rose asked. Klaus shook his head.
¡°I¡¯d rather not say. It¡¯s best if you don¡¯t worry about it Rosie. We need to go get back to work anyways,¡± He said. Rose smiled.
¡°Alright then, what should I do?¡± She asked.
¡°Well, you can start by sweeping this place up¡¡± Klaus responded.
Some time later
After some time, Klaus had finished sanding down the pieces of Count Claudius¡¯ chair and Rose had swept up the floor. During this time, Ignazio worked on an end table for another client. Once Klaus was sure that the chair was sanded down to perfection, he called out to Rose.
¡°Hey Rosie, could you get me some varnish?¡± he called.
¡°Okay, uncle!¡± She responded. Rose then went to the back room to retrieve it. She then handed it to her uncle.
¡°Here it is,¡± She said. Klaus took the varnish from her.
¡°Thank you, Rosie,¡± He remarked. He then began to apply the varnish to the pieces of the chair.
¡°Uh.. uncle?¡± Rose began to speak. There was a great deal of hesitancy in her voice. Klaus stopped what he was doing to look up at Rose.
¡°Yes, Rose?¡± he responded.
¡°I want to talk to you about something that happened to me the other night¡¡± She began. Klaus¡¯s eyes widened. For a moment it looked as though he had just put some foul-tasting thing into his mouth.
¡°Was it something bad?¡± He asked. Rose shook her head.
¡°No, no, not at all! It was something good, actually; something really good,¡± she explained. Klaus immediately loosened up and relaxed.
¡°Oh really? What happened?¡±
¡°I¡ I met this guy. Him and his friends came to the inn the other night and I¡ I think I like him. I think I really like him¡¡± Rose tried to explain.
¡°Tell me more,¡± Klaus asked. Rose proceeded to tell him all about how she met Nashorn and his associates.
¡°Hmm¡ and you said that his name was ¡®Nashorn¡¯ right?¡± Klaus asked. Rose nodded her head.
¡°Yes, uncle.¡±
¡°Well, that¡¯s a strange name. I don¡¯t like what you¡¯ve said about the company he keeps, though I have to admit that he doesn¡¯t sound like a bad guy,¡± Klaus commented.
¡°What do you think I should do, uncle?¡± Rose asked. Klaus scratched his chin.
¡°I¡¯m going to be honest with you, I don¡¯t think you should go around throwing yourself at every cute guy you see, but that doesn¡¯t mean that you should just ignore all men. Try to get to know him when he comes back; see what he¡¯s like without his friends around, but¡¡± Klaus said as he leaned in close to his niece and pointed his finger at her, ¡°... do not let him make you do anything that you don¡¯t want to do,¡± He commanded. He spoke those words very slowly, clearly, and authoritatively.
¡°Of course, uncle!¡± Rose responded.
¡°Good,¡± Klaus said, ¡°And, if you decide that you still like him, introduce him to me. I would like to size him up myself, though based on what you¡¯ve said, I think we might be able to get along.¡±
¡°I can definitely do that, uncle. I¡¯m sure he would love to meet you,¡± Rose replied. Klaus smiled.
¡°Good. I¡¯m glad that you¡¯ve decided to handle this in the way that you did. I know that your parents don¡¯t approve of him regardless of whether or not he is as good as you say he is, but they need to learn to stop standing in the way of love,¡± Klaus remarked.
¡°Thank you, uncle,¡± Rose said. She then moved in to give Klaus a hug.
¡®She might have just found someone that understands her,¡¯ Klaus thought, ¡®I don¡¯t know why, but I feel like this Nashorn might just be the man that will change Rosie¡¯s life¡¯.
Chapter 32
Alexandra awoke beneath the canopy of leaves and branches. The night came and went without incident. The party quickly ate a light breakfast and packed up their camp.
They continued the march that they had begun the day before they encountered something that stopped them in their tracks.
About half an hour after they left camp, the party entered into a small clearing; smaller than the campsite they slept in the previous night. In the center of it stood a wooden structure; something that Alexandra was hesitant to call a house. It looked like a small log cabin with a steeply-sloped wooden roof, save for two features that made the building completely impractical for human dwelling.
The first of these features was the height of the walls. The walls were so short that even someone like Alexandra would only be able to stand near the center of the building¡¯s interior. To make matters worse, the door, which was located towards the center of the side of the building facing the party, was so short that one would have to enter it on their hands and knees. Unfortunately for anyone who wished to enter this strange structure, it stood on four large stilts that were all three imperial paces high. The stilts splayed out in three directions on the bottom in a way that reminded Alexandra of chicken feet. There was a wooden platform that ran along the front of the building (where the door was), but it was only about as wide as a fully-grown man¡¯s shoulder width.
¡°What is that?¡± Alexandra asked. This was more of an outburst than a question directed at a particular person. For some reason that she couldn¡¯t explain, she had a bad feeling about that strange wooden building.
¡°Looks like a Bergman storehouse. They would build them in isolated locations in case they needed to hide out somewhere,¡± Schwartzbaum answered.
¡°We¡¯ve seen a few here and there during our service to the count, though I don¡¯t recall any records of a storehouse within this forest...¡± Fahim added.
¡°Okay, but why is it built¡ like that?¡± Alexandra asked.
¡°The stilts are for keeping bears out,¡± Schwartzbaum explained. Alexandra nodded. Fahim then turned to Schwartzbaum.
¡°Sir, I think we should search it,¡± he suggested. Schwartzbaum nodded.
¡°Agreed. Can¡¯t be too careful.¡± Schwartzbaum replied. He then ordered four of his men to approach the storehouse. Two of these men remained on the ground and boosted the remaining two up to the platform in front of the door. Alexandra watched with great anticipation as the two men on the platform drew daggers from their belts as several men on the ground trained their bows or crossbows at the storehouse¡¯s door. The two men took one long look at each other and readied themselves.
Alexandra had her eye¡¯s glued to the door as one of the two men slammed the door open and swung himself into the storehouse while holding his dagger in front of him in a reverse grip. He disappeared into the structure and his companion soon followed after him.
What followed probably lasted for ten seconds, but it felt like an hour to Alexandra. A hundred horrible things flashed through her mind. The storehouse burst into flames. Then the storehouse revealed itself to be a monster that ate the two men whole before lunging at Alexandra. Then the mangled bodies of the men were ejected out of the storehouse into the clearing, followed by the creature she had seen in Weisshart.
¡°There¡¯s nothing here!¡± A man¡¯s voice shouted from within the storehouse. The two men then emerged from the structure and climbed down to the ground. Both were completely unharmed.
Alexandra exhaled. All of Schwartzbaum¡¯s men seemed to loosen up in the moments following the announcement.
¡°Alright, show¡¯s over. Everyone get back into formation and resume the march!¡± Schwartzbaum shouted. The men did as they were told. Schwartzbaum then turned to Fahim.
¡°So, you said that there wasn¡¯t supposed to be one of these things here?¡± He asked. Fahim nodded.
¡°Yes, sir. If it was in the records, I would have noticed it,¡± Fahim answers.
¡°I believe you. What I want to know is why it wasn¡¯t in the records¡¡± Schwartzbaum said. Fahim didn¡¯t think the question was directed at him in particular, but he still wanted to come up with an answer.
¡°It¡¯s probably a genuine omission on the Bergmans¡¯ part,¡± he said.
¡°What makes you think that?¡± Schwartzbaum inquired.
¡°Well, either they were ignorant to the existence of this structure or they were intentionally hiding it from the count. If it was the latter, then they have gone to great lengths to hide an empty wooden box in the middle of nowhere; something that would be of little, if any, value to them in the event that they were to rebel against the count. Logic dictates that the simplest explanation to a mystery is the one that is most likely to be true,¡± Fahim explained.
¡°You have a point. When we get back, I want you to inform Jargal of this. If what you¡¯re saying is true, he¡¯ll probably want to send some of his men out here to check this place out,¡± Schwartzbaum responded. Fahim nodded.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
¡°Understood, sir.¡±
Schwartzbaum then began to walk away from the storehouse. He wanted to forget about that strange building, but there was one thought that refused to leave his mind: Why did the Bergmen just forget about this storehouse? He had worked alongside many Bergmen for sometime. To Schwartzbaum, many words were suitable for describing the Bergmen, but neither ¡®stupid¡¯ nor ¡®forgetful¡¯ were one of them.
About one hour later
Within an hour they arrived at the western edge of Einsamer Hill. They were then able to identify the start of both the north-west and south-west paths without any difficulty.
Following the plan they had laid out the previous morning, they then set out for the dome by traveling along the south-west edge of the hill. It wasn¡¯t long before the hill¡¯s gentle slope gave way to a steep rock wall. This was just as Alexandra had predicted, but she quickly realized that there were things that her map had not told her.
The treeline, which had hugged the hill up until this point, was much further back in the south-east side of the hill. No tree grew for some distance. This however, was the least of Alexandra¡¯s concern. What was far more unusual was a cluster of small gray buildings huddled up against the south-east side of the hill.
¡°Fahim!¡± Schwartzbaum barked. The tan-skinned man turned to face his employer.
¡°Yes?¡±
¡°Did you see that on our maps?¡±
¡°No.¡± Fahim responded while shaking his head. Without any hesitation, Schwartzbaum ordered his men to stand on guard. Schwartzbaum then turned to Alexandra.
¡°Did you know about this?¡± He barked again; the potential danger rendering ¡®Alexander¡¯s¡¯ status as a prince irrelevant.
¡°No, sir! This wasn¡¯t on our maps either.¡± Alexandra responded. Schartzbaum¡¯s eyes scanned the grey structures, searching for any sign of danger. He then ordered his men to search the area. One group of mercenaries began a methodical process of searching every structure for attackers, much like how they had done with the Bergman storehouse, while the other group maintained a close watch on the perimeter.
One by one, the mercenaries cleared each structure. Eventually, one of Schwartzbaum¡¯s subordinates, a man with a large battle-axe and a thick Metrovingian accent, informed the mercenary commander that the area was clear of hostiles. Schwartzbaum, Fahim, Alexandra, and Ekkehardt then began to move towards the structures.
As they approached the buildings, another man jogged up to Schwartzbaum and said something to him that Alexandra could not discern. Schwartzbaum nodded and peeled off from the group before disappearing with the cluster of buildings. Alexandra and the others took a moment to stop and inspect the first structure they came across.
Upon closer inspection, the buildings appeared to be roughly the same size as the houses Alexandra had seen in Weisshart, though, unlike those houses, all of the buildings appeared to have a second floor. More disparately to the houses in Weisshart, these buildings were all perfect rectangular prisms constructed entirely out of a hard gray material.
Once Alexandra and the others got up close to the buildings she could see they lacked any of the hallmarks of a man-made structure that she had known of. There were no bricks, wood, mortar, thatch, stones, daub, or terracotta. It was thought the building was one solid piece carved from this strange gray material. Alexandra reached out to touch the building, only to discover that the gray building material was coated in a thin layer of another soft and transparent material, not unlike a thick lacquer. The buildings had no windows or doors, but cut-outs for such fixtures were present in the buildings.
Alexandra peered into one of the dark interiors of one of the buildings only to find that it was completely empty. She couldn¡¯t even enter the structure, as there was no ground floor. If she were to attempt to walk through the entrance then she would fall two or three imperial paces onto a floor made of the same gray material that comprised the rest of the structure. Similarly, there was no second floor, despite what the window-hole placement and height of the structure would suggest. It was as though the building was an empty shell in which a house was supposed to be¡ or perhaps once was¡
¡°Do you know what this stuff is, Fahim?¡± Ekkehardt asked as he ran his hand along the surface of one of the buildings.
¡°I¡¯m not sure. The hard gray material appears to be similar to Reman concrete, but the transparent substance is a mystery to me. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it before,¡± Fahim answered.
¡°So you¡¯re saying this is a Reman structure?¡± Ekkehardt inquired. Fahim shook his head.
¡°I doubt it. I¡¯ve seen many Reman ruins, not just in the empire, but also in Mizraim, Ibnathamra, and Iberistan. They don¡¯t look anything like this.¡±
¡°But didn¡¯t you say that it was made out of the same material?¡± Ekkehardt asked in confusion.
¡°I don¡¯t know anything about the material, but there is no way this can be Reman,¡± Alexandra interjected.
¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°These buildings have none of the features of Reman architecture. No arches, no domed roofs, no vaulted ceilings, no mosaics, nothing.¡±
¡°So if it¡¯s not a Reman ruin, what is it?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know¡¡± Alexandra responded. The group began to pull away from the building when Schwartzbaum returned to them.
¡°Your highness, I think you¡¯re gonna wanna see this¡¡± He said. He then guided the group towards the center of the cluster of buildings. Alexandra¡¯s eyes widened as she saw the thing in the center of the ruins. Never before in her life had she felt relief and dread fill her body in equal measure. A part of her wanted to celebrate what felt like a partial vindication, real tangible proof that her quest may not be a wild goose chase. Another part of her wanted to run away, because she knew that there was an inherent wrongness in the thing before her, that it did not belong in her world. She found the dome.
Chapter 33
The dome was about as large as four of the buildings. It was composed entirely out of a reflective material, like a mirror. Upon closer inspection, Alexandra saw that comparing the dome to a mirror was misleading as the reflections produced by the dome had no imperfections. Unlike every other mirror that Alexandra had seen previously, there was no tint, distortion, or blemish on the surface of the dome.
¡°Is this what you were looking for, your highness?¡± Schwartzbaum asked.
¡°I think so, sir. I don''t know what else the dome could be¡¡± Alexandra responded as she stared at the dome.
¡°Is something wrong, your highness?¡± Fahim asked.
¡°Yeah¡ I thought it would be smaller¡¡± Alexandra answered. Ekkehardt looked at the princess with concern. He wasn¡¯t sure what was going on in her head. Why did it matter what size the damn dome was? All that really mattered was that it was real, that this journey might not have been a complete waste of time after all.
Then, out of nowhere, he was hit with a memory, an event from his past that he would have never guessed would have been relevant to his journey. He was training with Ludwig and Siegfried, back when they were still young boys, back before Agrippina drove a wedge between Ludwig and his cousins. After a long day of training, Ludwig had absent-mindedly attempted to sheath a sword in a scabbard that was much too large for it. The blade fell far too deep into the scabbard and required some effort to remove. That was the day he learned a simple lesson: that a scabbard must fit the sword that it is to contain.
Ekkehardt then looked up at the dome and dread began to leak into his body as he realized exactly what had taken hold of Alexandra. She did not take the same mental path that Ekkehardt did, but he was sure that she had arrived at the same destination: that what is true for scabbards may also be true for the dome. Sure, they did not know the exact size of the creature that allegedly lurked within the dome, but does it not make sense for a container to be just slightly larger than its intended content? Ekkehardt and Alexandra remained in this fear-induced paralysis until a loud shout snapped them out of it.
¡°What the fuck are you doing, you imbecile!¡± A hard, masculine voice shouted. Ekkehardt and Alexandra turned to see where it came from to find Schwartzbaum shouting at one of his subordinates.
The subordinate, a large man with long brown hair, had reached out to place his bare palm on the dome. He recoiled in fear and turned to face his employer.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. I just wanted to touch it¡¡± he answered.
¡°Why would you touch it!¡± Schwartzbaum shouted.
¡°Ya-Ya-You didn¡¯t say we couldn¡¯t, sir¡¡± the mercenary stammered. Schwartzbaum then grabbed the man by the sleeve and examined his right hand. He was careful not to make skin-to-skin contact with the man.
¡°Fahim, come here! Do you see anything?¡± He barked. Fahim ran to the men and quickly inspected the hand. He shook his head.
¡°It appears to be completely healthy to me, sir.¡± He answered. Schwartzbaum let go of the mercenary and then turned to Fahim.
¡°I want you to keep an eye on him. If you see anything weird, then I want you to perform an amputation. You got that?¡±
¡°What?¡± The man exclaimed.
¡°Yes sir. I believe we should have all of the equipment and materials required to perform an amputation as safely and humanely as possible,¡± Fahim said as he recalled that the party possessed a handsaw, a bottle of vodka, some rope, and a wooden spoon.
¡°Good,¡± Schwartzbuam said before turning to Ekkehardt and Alexandra, ¡°Did you two see the dome do anything weird?¡±
Both of them said no. Alexandra then approached the man.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
¡°Sir, are you okay? Do you feel any pain in your hand?¡± She asked. The man shook his head.
¡°No, I don¡¯t feel any pain. My hand feels normal,¡± he answered. Alexandra nodded her head.
¡°I see,¡± she said, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what did the dome feel like when you touched it?¡±
The man took a moment to gather his thoughts as a look of concern formed on his face. He then took a deep breath before replying.
¡°It¡ It didn¡¯t feel like anything at all, sir. I don¡¯t know what to tell you¡¡±
Some time later
Alexandra looked down upon the green tree-tops of the Frauenwald before turning back at the dark mouth of the cave. Something about Pe?ter? Agonic? immediately unsettled the princess. She wasn¡¯t a stranger to caves as her, her brother, Ekkehardt, and Siegfried had explored some of the caves near the imperial winter palace in Peschtia. However, the caves back in Peschtia were close to civilization and parts of them were even lit up with torches as they were used regularly by the palace staff. This one seemed to be a hole in reality; a place where everything just stopped. The interior seemed as though it actively swallowed light rather than just being shielded by it.
¡°Well, here it is. We finally made it¡¡± Fahim declared with a strange uneasiness within his voice. After the incident with the man who touched the dome, the party departed that area and returned to the start of the north-west and south-west paths up Einsamer Hill.
From there, the party divided itself into two equal groups, one led by Schwartzbaum that took the north-west path and one led by Fahim that took the south-west path. Ekkehardt and Alexandra had traveled with Schwartzbaum¡¯s group.
The trip up the narrow and winding path up Einsamer Hill was difficult, but otherwise uneventful. The two groups were able to reunite at the top of the hill without either group suffering any casualties. The man who had touched the dome was completely fine, though he was still rather shaken by how easily his commanding officers contemplated amputating his hand.
Alexandra approached the cave, stopping only to take notice of a strange chunk of stone to the left of the entrance. There were parts of it that were smooth and filed down into right angles; something that could never happen without human hands. It appeared as though it had been some kind of slab. Unfortunately, everything, but its base had been destroyed, rendering any message it may have once contained lost to time.
The mouth was tall and narrow; about three imperial paces high, but only wide enough for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder. ¡®Mouth¡¯ was truly a fitting word for the feature, as it did appear to Alexandra as though she was staring down the maw of some ghoulish creature.
¡°Are you ready?¡± Ekkehardt asked as he turned to Alexandra. She nodded. They then turned back to Schwartzbaum and Fahim.
¡°It is probably best if you go alone,¡± Fahim said. Schwartzbaum turned to him with a surprised and unhappy look on his face.
¡°What do you mean by that? Are you afraid of some stupid cave?¡± He growled. Fahim was completely unfazed.
¡°Actually, yes. I am indeed terrified of this ¡®stupid cave¡¯. Given how little we know of the cave¡¯s structural integrity, I believe the most prudent course of action would be to send the smallest possible party in order to avoid a sudden collapse of a key structural element and any subsequent¡¡±
¡°Say it in normal Alemanian, Fahim¡¡± Schwartzbaum sighed.
¡°I¡¯m saying that if we have one or two dozen men down there shifting rocks around willy-nilly then it is very much within the realm of possibility that we could cause a cave-in, which would be a big problem for us. Furthermore, most of us are armored, large, and heavily armed. If we go down there and something happens, we¡¯re going to have men tripping over each other trying to run back to the exit. It will be just like what happened to the Iberistani forces during the siege of La Gran Kasbah,¡± Fahim argued.
¡°...You¡¯re right, but we cannot send them down there alone. How about we just send you and another man to accompany them?¡± Schwartzbaum responded.
¡°I certainly wouldn¡¯t have a problem with that,¡± Alexandra added. Fahim nodded his head.
¡°Okay. In that case, I would like Jean-Phillipe to accompany us,¡± Fahim said before turning to one of Schwartzbaum¡¯s men. ¡°You were a miner once, correct? This shouldn¡¯t be anything you can¡¯t handle, right?¡± he asked. The man nodded his head and then removed his helmet to reveal a young, handsome face topped with messy black hair. The man wore a large battleaxe on his back.
¡°No sir, not at all,¡± He replied with a thick Metrovingian accent. Without any further debate, Fahim and Jean-Phillipe removed their armor. Fahim discarded his jarids and Jean-Phillipe traded his ax for one of his comrades¡¯ short swords. Another one of Schwartzbaum¡¯s men produced four torches, lit them, and handed them off to Alexandra, Ekkehardt, Fahim, and Jean-Phillipe. The party then began to descend into the cave. Schwartzbaum watched as the four of them were slowly swallowed whole by the impenetrable darkness.
Chapter 34
¡°Oh God, architect of the skies above and the depths below, please grant us safety and prosperity as we toil beneath the ground. May our bodies have the strength to take the bounties you have buried for us. May our minds have the wisdom to remain vigilant in the dark places where your light does not shine. May our hearts have the courage needed to keep all of our brothers from joining you in your kingdom before their time. Amen.¡± Jean-Phillipe recited with a quiet voice. He had said these exact words at least a couple dozen times since Alexandra and her party had entered the cave. It took a few repetitions for Alexandra to fully understand what exactly Jean-Phillipe was reciting as he spoke in Metrovingian.
The cave floor was cumbersome to move through. The surface was rocky and uneven, requiring the party to move slowly and with great care. Every move required them to be wary, lest they slip on an uneven surface or cut themselves on a jagged rock.
The cave had also narrowed to the point where the party could only travel in a single-file line. Ekkehardt had taken a position in the front, followed by Alexandra, then Jean-Phillipe, and then Fahim in the rear. Alexandra struggled to keep Ekkehardt in her field of vision and there were often times when Ekkehardt was all, but consumed by the darkness and Jean-Phillipe¡¯s prayers sounded as though they were the whispers of a mouse.
To make matters worse, the temperature began to drop. Alexandra had expected this, but not to the extent that it was occurring. She could just barely see her breath fog in front of her. Somehow, the heat of her torch felt weak and distant.
Despite all of this, Alexandra was still able to notice one more strange aspect of the cave: the absence of any fauna. Based on her reading and personal experience, she knew that there were many creatures that dwelled in caves; bats, snails, spiders, and salamanders. No such animal was present. Similarly, she hadn¡¯t seen a single mushroom or any other type of fungus since entering the cave. It was as though the four of them had been taken out of reality and placed into their own dark, rocky world all alone.
The group had traveled through the cave for some time and, other than Jean-Phillipe¡¯s incantations, there was no way for them to measure the passage of time. Similarly, their sense of direction had become muddled. They had made so many turns that it was impossible to tell which direction they were facing relative to the cave mouth. The only thing that any of them were confident about was that they had definitely descended to a point far below the cave mouth.
Other than that, their only tether back to the cave mouth was a series of simple chalk markings Fahim had made in the form of arrows.The mercenary had made one of these markings for every few imperial paces of travel, but he lost count of how many arrows he drew around the one-hundred and fifth. He felt a quiet panic creep into the corners of his mind every time he drew an arrow on the wall of the cave and found that his piece of chalk had become smaller and more difficult to use.
As Fahim drew another arrow, something unexpected happened. As his hand moved the chalk across the cave wall, it appeared to expand and contract, almost like the stomach of a creature that was taking slow, deep breaths. Fahim blinked in confusion as his mind tried to process what he just saw, or thought it saw. He stood there frozen with his hand still up against the cave wall. The mercenary wanted to say something, but no words could escape his lips. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
¡®Did the cave walls just move?¡¯ Fahim thought to himself. He didn¡¯t want to believe it. There was no way for rocks or other such non-living material to move in that manner. Surely, it was a trick of the mind. Surely, he had made some sort of error in the dim torch light. He looked at the white line of chalk that he had just drawn. There was an abrupt and sharp curve right in the middle of it, a curve that no able-bodied and sober man could have drawn if they had intended to draw a straight line on a flat surface.
¡®That was supposed to be straight¡¡¯ Fahim thought. His mind ran through a dozen possible explanations for this error that were rooted in rationality and his knowledge of natural philosophy. None of them convinced him.
¡°Monsieur Fahim, are you alright?¡± Jean-Phillipe called. Although Fahim could not see it, the party had now stopped to await Fahim¡¯s reply. Fahim felt like Jean-Phillipe¡¯s words pulled him back into reality. He took a deep breath.
¡°Yes. I¡¯m fine. Sorry about that!¡± He called back before quickly adding a chevron to the line he had just drawn, making it an arrow. Jean-Phillipe resumed his prayer. Fahim then rejoined the group and tried to drown out his worries by focusing on fellow mercenary¡¯s prayer.
¡®That was surely just a mistake. It is dark and I am tired. There is nothing in this world that cannot be explained by either the word of God or natural philosophy. There is nothing in this world that cannot be explained by either the word of God or natural philosophy. There is nothing in this world that cannot¡¡¯ Fahim thought to himself before being interrupted by a hand tapping him on the shoulder. The mercenary¡¯s blood turned to ice water.
The others heard the scream, but Fahim had disappeared by the time they turned around. Jean-Phillipe was stopped mid-prayer.
¡°Fahim?¡± Alexandra called into the darkness. She turned around as best she could to try to figure out what was going on. She saw no sign of either Fahim or Jean-Phillipe. How far back were they? She felt her stomach tighten as she realized that Jean-Phillipe, or at the very least the light of his torch, should be visible from where she was standing. She stared into the darkness, looking for the large mercenary.
¡°Jean-Phillipe?¡± She called again. Nothing sound returned to her, save for her own echo. It was at this point Alexandra began to fear the worst. After what felt like an eternity of waiting in the darkness, she began to hear movement coming from the direction of Fahim and Jean-Phillipe. She wanted to call for Ekkehardt, but her vocal cords refused to act. She stood frozen in place as her eyes tried to cut into the darkness. The sound of footsteps became louder the longer Alexandra stood there. It was then when Alexandra saw it.
A hand emerged from around a corner. Unlike Fahim and Jean-Phillipe, the flesh on the hand was pale; a sickly maggot-white. Long, boney fingers tipped with talon-like nails protruded from the palm and gripped the stone.
Alexandra couldn¡¯t remember exactly how or when she started moving, only that all reason had left her and that getting away was all that mattered. She scrambled over the uneven rocks in a desperate bid to get to Ekkehardt. Alexandra¡¯s flesh scraped against the hard rock multiple times, but the pain didn¡¯t even register. She moved quickly, used all four of her limbs, and acted on pure instinct. In that moment Alexandra resembled a prey animal fleeing from a predator more than a human being.
She rounded a corner as a part of her begged God for a light to appear before her. Whether it was sunlight or Ekkehardt¡¯s torch didn¡¯t matter. All she wanted in that moment was to leave that dark, cold place.
All Alexandra found before her was a solid wall of rock, a dead-end. Despair consumed her.