Hello everyone-sorry for the delay, but I finally got round to writing the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own the world of warhammer; it is the property of Games Workshop.

--

The White Hart was a humdrum of activity when the two of them arrived. The innkeeper was fussing over a collection of glass jars, mixing a strange paste together in a small wooden bowl. He wore a rather worn overcoat and a woodsman's axe lay on the bar beside him. He glanced up as they entered.

"I know why your here, but you'll need to wait till we've finished. I've sent Perkins to get the healer."

Rhinehardt took in the rest of the room. The nearest table was occupied by a young, dark haired man dressed in black with a grey cloak swept back over his shoulders. The newcomer had one leg propped up on a chair. The fabric of his breeches had been cut back to the thigh to reveal an ugly gash above the knee. This was currently being tended by the cloaked figure Rhinehardt had seen earlier that night. He was clad as before and the hood of his scaled cloak was still drawn over his head, concealing his face.

The table opposite this one was occupied by Mary and a large middle age woman whom he hadn't t seen before. Her iron grey hair was tied back into a tight bun and like Mary she was still clad in a gown and night dress. They were both fussing over a small figure crouched on one of the chairs. On closer inspection Rhinehardt realised it was a child, a child clad in torn clothing and covered in dirt. It clutched its legs tightly to its chest and seemed largely unaware of the two women trying comfort it.

"We'll need to speak to them both soon" Bertholdt's tone was soft, but firm.

"No one speaks to this young man until he sees the healer." This time it was the large woman who spoke. "Sigmar only knows what he's been through but I doubt he'll want to talk tonight." She held the constable's gaze without flinching.

"Easy darling, I'm sure these two understand the need for patience here." The innkeeper lifted one hand in a calming gesture.

"She's right though." The man at the first table grimaced as the cloaked figure dabbed some of the paste prepared by the innkeeper over his wound. "That kid's been through some trauma, he's not gonna be up to answering questions. I've tried questioning him on the way here but he won't even acknowledge me."

"And you Richard, you feel up to answering some questions?"

"Well, as soon as this gentleman discharges me I don't see why not."

"You'll be fine; just don't go putting too much weight on that leg." The cloaked man's voice was soft, even melodious; and rather muffled, almost as though he was speaking through a gag. He got up to leave. Before he reached the stairs Katarina got up from her seat and blocked his path.

"I'm afraid the warden and I have a few questions to ask you, we'd be obliged if you would remain here until we've finished."

"Is that so?" The cloaked man's tone could not be described as friendly.

Katarina caught Rhnehardt's attention, trying to convey the urgency of the situation. To his credit, Rhinehardt caught on quickly. "That is so; I request that you stay here until I have a chance to speak with you."

"And if I refuse?"

Rhinehardt's gaze hardened as the man turned to face him. He crossed his arms and took a step forward. "I suggest you co-operate." For a moment the man seemed about to argue. Then with a brief shrugged he dropped into a chair and leaned back. "Try not to take too long, I'd like to get back to sleep."

Rhinehardt turned back to Bertholdt. "Ready when you are."

After the introductions were made the constable pulled up a chair and asked Richard to begin. "Start at the beginning lad. We may as well here the whole story."

"Well sirs, it all began like this..."

--

"You will recall that some two weeks ago I left this village for Mordheim, the object being to inform the Burgomaster of our troubles and hopefully gain some military assistance."

Bertholdt nodded. "Yes I remember I take it you reached there safely or you would not have returned."

"Aye, the journey was uneventful. I was on edge all the time but I saw no signs danger and the inhabitants of the few hamlets I lodged in were all hospitable. I reached the town in just under six days and by that time I was in good spirits."

"Were you successful?"

"I'm afraid it did not go well. I had to wait a full day before the Burgomaster would see me. When he did he was polite, but little else. I was granted fifteen minutes audience. He expressed sympathy but told me that with the civil unrest amongst the northern villages his forces were too occupied to be diverted. He promised to divert one of his patrols to inspect the area, but said if things became dangerous we must evacuate."

Bertholdt gave a snort of contempt. "Can't say I expected any different. Those nobles are solely concerned with their own interests; they don't give a hoot about lowly peasants like us."

Rhinehardt glanced at him sharply. "Those words can be taken as incitement; speaking as an official I'll warn you to mind what you say about our governor!"

Bertholdt held his gaze for a moment, and then looked away. "As you wish."

Rhinehardt returned his gaze to Richard. "Please continue."

"Well I stayed in town another day, then I set out. I wanted to be back as soon as possible so I took the more direct route and avoided the two nearest hamlets. After a previously successful journey I felt safe enough sleeping under the stars. It was all uneventful on the first day; it was uneventful most of the next morning. Then just before mid day I came upon the fist hamlet..."

--

The small hut was hidden behind a cluster of trees, so he did not suspect something was amiss until less than half mile distant. He could remember the hamlet well. Though small, it was built of sturdy timber with a thatched roof. All that remained now was a smoking ruin, the few timbers standing heavily blackened. From the look of it this had happened several days previously but the air was still thick with the stench of burnt wood and thatch. The small paddock that had enclosed the dwelling's two goats had been smashed. Of the animals themselves there was no trace.

He found the bodies by the house. Both were burnt beyond recognition and what little remained had been picked clean by scavengers, leaving only the scattered remains of the charred skeletons. One lay in the doorway, the other within the ruins.

Richard thought back to the occupants-a middle aged man from further south, his wife and their teenage daughter. Though a little suspicious they had treated him well and he had promised to call in on the way back. Now he was looking at all that remained of that happy family-smoking ruins, like the house they had so carefully maintained.

Though he did not wish to tarry here longer than necessary Richard managed to dig a shallow grave and bury the bones. There was no time to do more.

A quick exploration of the area revealed nothing. Any clues as to what might have happened had been washed away by the elements. Lacking the skills of a tracker he was unable to define what had done this or where it had gone.

--

"Things were no different at the next dwelling. Every hamlet I came to had been burnt to the ground. There were no survivors. It was five days ago when I came across the caravan."

"Caravan?" A puzzled expression crossed Rhinehardt's face.

"A group of traveller's sir. I remember they came here the same day I left."

Bertholdt nodded. "That's true, they left the next day, said they were heading for Mordheim."

"Well they never made it. They must have been ambushed. Same as the hamlets-no survivors and everything burned. Only difference is they didn't take the trouble to burn the bodies, just left them to rot. I did a quick scout of the area-that's when I found the lad." He gestured towards the child. "Seems he crawled into a hole under a thorn bush, only reason he escaped. I almost missed him and it took me a long time to convince him to come out. I've tried to get him to talk but he won't respond. Just sits there shivering and sobbing to himself. After what he's witnessed I don't blame him but I don't understand why he still won't say anything."

"It's fear." All eyes turned to the cloaked figure. "I've seen this before. He witnessed something horrifying; especially for one his age, and was probably too frightened to scream. He'll speak again when he feels safe, but I'm afraid you won't get a word out him until then."

"Well anyway, I'd no sooner persuaded him to come out when someone else turned up."

--

Richard glanced up at the sound of approaching hooves. Pushing the boy aside he drew his sword, relaxing a little as the rider entered the clearing. The man was dressed in long cloak but Richard recognised him, he'd met this rider several times when he had come to the village. This was Felix, an outrider employed by the Burgomaster to relay messages and keep tabs on the neighbouring settlements.

"Over here." He saw the man reach for his sword, but relax his grip as recognition set in."There's no one here, I've checked the area."

Felix dismounted. "Any survivors?"

"Just the lad here." He helped the boy to his feet and steered him towards his horse."Looks like an ambush, and a bloody one at that."

"Yes. You're a bit far from your village aren't you?"

"Returning from Mordheim, had to deliver a message for the Burgomaster."

"Ah, so it was you they were talking about when I left. Well your village lies on my route; you can come with me if you like."

Felix had always had a somewhat superior attitude that had never failed to irritate him, but after what he had seen these last few days he would feel much safer travelling in company and it would be useful to have an extra pair of eyes to watch the boy. "I would appreciate that." He glanced around at the bodies. "Do you think we should bury them?"

"No. If we had an armed patrol with us I'd say yes, but we don't know how long ago this happened. Whatever or whoever did this could come back at any moment. No, we must ride hard and put as much distance between ourselves and this place as we can."

Richard could see the wisdom in his words. He helped the child up into the saddle and climbed up himself. "Then let us move."

--

"We suspected it would not end there and we were right. We were camping in a small clearing two nights ago when the attack came. There couldn't have been many, less than a dozen, but they were well organised. But luck it seems was with us. One of them startled a partridge and raised the alarm. Felix managed to shoot one with his bow and the rest retreated. I guess they had no bows of their own as we were able to mount quickly and escape. We've been riding hard ever since then. Thought we'd given them the slip but they ambushed us just outside the village. Now here I am."

"Felix isn't with you now?"

"No, he didn't make it."

"Damn, we could use his bow right now. I know the two of you were never close but he was a good man. Crack shot too, could take an apple off a post at 30 paces; and he could do it time and again without missing."

Richard nodded. "Yeah."

"Did you see what did this?"

"There was no trace remaining around the burnt out houses, or at the caravan. I didn't learn anything from that night they attacked, although I'll never forget the sound they made."

"The sound?"

"Yes, the sound. A high pitched squealing, reminded me of a pig being slaughtered. It scared me real bad and I don't mind admitting that. As for tonight...well things can look different in the moonlight but I got a close up look at some of our attackers."

"And what'd they look like?"

"I know what two of them looked like. They were covered in fur, and they had curved horns on their heads."

Rhinehardt tilted his head. "Do you mean animals?"

"No, these creatures walked on two legs."

"Chaos beasts?" The room went silent, each occupant suddenly pondering the new situation this news had created. Bandits were bad enough but beasts of chaos! This was serious. Katarina unconsciously tightened her grip on the hilt of her dagger and Mary drew her robe tighter around her shoulders. Only the cloaked figure gave no visible reaction. The silence was finally broken by Bertholdt.

"Did Felix say anything about any patrols being sent out?"

"He said there was one scheduled to leave the city but it wasn't due to come this way.

"And the Burgomaster said he would send help for us?"

"Yes, but he did not say when."

"Then we are on our own."

Before anyone else could comment the inn door opened to reveal an elderly woman clad in a faded grey dress with a small bag under her arm. She strode into the room with an air of authority and addressed the inn keeper. "Quickly, where are the patients?"

"Over here." Richard raised his hand in imitation of a misbehaved child who is about to go before the headmistress. "But I'm all right for the moment Jane; our friend seems to have done a good job on my leg. The child's had a bad time though; I think you'd better see to him first."

The healer strode over to Mary's table. "Let me see him. And you two!" Here she turned to address Bertholdt and Rhinehardt. "Help Alec with the other one, he's had a nasty knock."

"The other..." Rhinehardt turned to see the men in question entering. Gerard was being supported between Perkins and a second man whom he recognised from the card game earlier that night. He grinned at Rhinehardt's surprised look. "Sorry I'm late, got a bit tied up. Hope I haven't missed anything."

"That's a bit of an understatement; there have been some developments, and what on earth happened to your head?"

"I'll tell you later. What about these developments?"

"Do you need my help with anything?" Berthodlt directed his question at Rhinehardt. The warden shook his head in response.

"No we should be fine from here. I'll let you know if we find out anything new."

Rhinehardt seemed satisfied with this and made for the door. "Come on Alec, get to your post."

When they had gone Rhinehardt gave Gerard a cut down version of Richard's story, with the rider chipping in now and then to fill in the gaps. When he had finished Gerard sighed deeply. "We finally make some headway and something like this happens. Typical."

"Headway?"

Gerard motioned Rhinehardt over. He didn't want anyone else to know what had transpired tonight. Rhinehardt in turn motioned Katarina over. "She's with us" he said in response to Gerard's questioning look.

"I see."

Once he was satisfied no one else was paying them any attention Gerard briefly outlined what had taken place that night, beginning with when he left the inn and ending with the discovery of the bodies outside the barn.

"And Kurzwiel was not among them."

"No. Either they took him or he's still in the village, assuming he didn't go over the wall which I doubt."

At this moment the healer got up from her seat. "The boy just requires rest and time. Is there anywhere he can stay Muriel?"

The woman being addressed nodded. "I'll put him in my room for the night, I doubt I'll be getting any sleep right now anyway. And you can keep an eye on him." Here she pointed at Richard. "Come on, it's off to bed for the both of you." With the help of Perkins and the innkeeper they managed to get Richard up the stairs, followed by the child. This now left only the wardens, Katarina and the cloaked man in the room. The latter made to follow the others upstairs, but Rhinehardt called him back. "I told you I wanted a word."

"I don't see that I can tell you anything."

"I'll be the judge of that. First of all where have you been tonight?"

"In my room."

"I tried your door earlier. Why didn't you answer me?"

"I was probably asleep; I don't recall anyone coming to my door."

"You were asleep with the light on?" Rhinehardt's tone was disbelieving.

"Yes, I sleep very sound and I like to give the impression I'm awake. I find it good for security."

"You sleep so soundly you don't even notice when someone climbs through your window after the alarm has been raised?" All eyes turned to Katarina. "Our friend had a visitor tonight." She related what she had seen earlier.

"This person must have entered someone else's room."

"No. I checked the window's position. It was yours'"

"Then I must have been outside when he entered." The cloaked man leaned back in his chair.

Again Katarina shook her head. "You came down a good five minutes after I came back inside. There is no chance you would have failed to notice this person. And considering our target is currently missing this raises an interesting possibility."

"I agree." Gerard's tone was cold. "Either our friend here had a hallucination or you are lying through your teeth. Now you will provide an explanation or I will have you arrested and placed in irons."

"Is that so?"

"It most certainly is."

"From beneath his cowl the cloaked figure seemed to regard each one of them in turn. Finally he gave a slight shrug and stood up. "That won't be necessary." He reached into the long coat he wore under his cloak. "Relax, I'm not armed" he raised his other hand in a placating gesture as Katarina reached for her axe. From within the folds he produced a slip of paper which he handed to Rhinehardt.

The warden glanced at the paper and passed it to Gerard. He looked up in surprise. "It's a despatch, signed by the Burgomaster."

"Issued at my request in case something like this should happen. As you should have gathered from that letter I am here for the same reason's you are, namely in pursuit of a bounty. And no, I have not found my quarry. You are welcome to search my room if you wish but you will find nothing."

"Nonetheless I would feel better."

"Very well then."

He handed his key to Rhinehardt. The warden exited up the stairs and returned ten minutes later. "It checks out, there's no one there. I checked my room and the maid's to be sure. Kurzwiel isn't here."

"All right I believe you. Nonetheless in view of what has just happened we would appreciate any information you can give us tonight."

"I work alone, and I do not share out bounties." Here he directed a wary glance at Katarina, who gave him an equally unfriendly look.

"Maybe. But I am still prepared to arrest you if needs be. And I might just add that I am not above delaying you in order to make sure that Miss Grenfell here claims the bounty in your stead."

The cloaked man chuckled audibly. "You three could not detain me if you tried. Still the situation has altered somewhat as you say, and I could do without three extra problems to concern myself with. All right then, I'll tell you what I know." He took a chair and sat down opposite Gerard. After a slight hesitation he reached up and drew his hood back.

The wardens stared in surprise. The man's appearance was not what they had expected. His features were fine, almost delicate. He had high cheek bones and rather narrowed eye sockets from which a pair of piercing blue eyes stared with a detached, appraising air. Gerard remembered the gatekeeper's description of those eyes-he had not been exaggerating. The man's long hair hung down past his shoulders. Its colour was very pale, almost silver.

The lower half of the man's face was covered by a black scarf, which he reached up and removed. His lower features matched the rest of his face-a thin mouth and a finely chiselled chin with no trace of stubble. His features were marred by a pair of scars. The first ran the length of his chin and was so faint Gerard might not have noticed it had he been sitting further away. The second scar was more prominent-a single line that ran from the hairline just above his left ear, terminating halfway across the middle of his cheek. Whatever had caused that scar had missed his eye by less than an inch-a very lucky escape.

"So, what do we call you?" Gerard asked.

"Call me Joseph. That is how you Burgomaster knows me."

TBC