Disclaimer: I do not own Warhammer or any part of the Games Workshop business and I am not gaining any financial benefits from this story.
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Bertholdt stroked the flint across the blade of his axe, occasionally striking up a spark as metal grated over stone. He knew the blade did not require sharpening; its edge was still as keen as it had been when he'd used it the previous night. But he continued nonetheless. He found the activity relaxing and it had long become a habit. Around him several of the bandits sat, treating their weapons and nursing the last of their breakfast. They had discarded their horned head dresses but most still wore the skins of the beasts they had slain, the furs proving just as useful at keeping out the cold as inspiring fear in their prey.
He glanced up as Thork approached him. Thork was the bands second in command, a tall and well-muscled barbarian from the lands of Norsica. He had the flaxen hair and blue eyes that characterised many north men and carried one of the dreaded two-handed axes favoured by that race. Bertholdt had seen him use it with deadly effect, bringing down a full grown warhorse with a single blow. The man's great strength was equalled only by his temper-quick to anger and hard to appease, he had a tendency tended to get carried away in the heat of battle. The other raiders had learned to give him a wide berth when this happened.
"The Chief wants you," Thork jerked a thumb over his shoulder before going to the cauldron and helping himself to a plateful of stew. Bertholdt slung the axe over his shoulder and strode off to a smaller group sitting a few meters away.
--
There were three men in the group, the leader and his two advisors. They had been discussing the attack of the night before. It had not gone as well as they had hoped. Whilst the initial entry had been made without loss they had met with stronger resistance than expected.
"Thirteen dead and ten more seriously wounded. That's half our strength thrown away on this wretched place."
The leader of the band was a dark haired man with brown eyes and of medium build. Like the rest of his band he was clad in the beastman's fur and wore a dark-bladed scimitar at his side. He nodded slowly, drawing a deep breath from his pipe as he considered the news.
"Yes Angus, I agree it's a regrettable loss but one that had to be paid. We have captured our man and we now have some more captives to add to our stock. Once we obtain what the baron requires we can resume our journey and dispense with the prisoners." He glanced up as Bertholdt approached, "Ah constable, so glad you could join us."
"Rork," Bertholdt dipped his head in acknowledgement.
"Angus and I were just discussing our little raid. Unfortunately it does not seem to have gone quite as planned."
"Yes sir, I regret the loss of life, but the resistance was stronger than we thought. I probably should have taken care of those wardens and bounty hunters earlier, but I believe that to have attempted that alone would have drawn attention to myself and I might not have been able to get the gate open."
"The village was a bonus, nothing more-Kurzwiel was our primary objective. We capture him and move on our way before the patrol can arrive, that was always the plan. You still have not told me why you gave the signal to attack."
Bertholdt related the story to him-of how the wardens and their companions had uncovered Kurzwiel and how he had judged it necessary to order the attack before they had located what he was trying to conceal . Messenger pigeons had been despatched to Mordheim and he could not be sure that the patrol would not arrive soon, for it was due any day now. "Under the circumstances I thought it best to move quickly."
"So you say, though in truth you need not have worried. We dealt with that pathetic little patrol some time back. There would have been no immediate relief for the village even if those pigeons do reach the city."
"With respect Rork I did not know about the patrol. And I have heard that four of its members split off from the main group after they found the caravan. Did you manage to find them?"
"No, to my knowledge they are still alive. The four of them are no threat to us, but I take your point. I suppose you acted for the best. And I remember it was you who managed to stop my men from incinerating our captives alive so for that I thank you. Under the circumstances I commend your thinking, though I am puzzled as to how these wardens managed to do what you could not, drive out Kurzwiel within a couple of days. You had more than a week to find him and yet you failed, why is that?"
Bertholdt dropped his gaze. "I...have asked myself sir, I don't know. I learnt he had left the same day as the caravan you ambushed and I failed to suspect he might have returned. The thought did not enter my head until that northern woman turned up and began asking questions about him."
"A nearly unforgivable lapse my friend. I hope you will take pains to improve your judgement in the future.
"You can be certain of that."
"Good. Now perhaps you can help us with a little problem that has arisen. Kurzwiel does not have the package and he is proving rather...resilient to our interrogations. I fear we may have to resort to harsher methods but we do not have the time right now. Did he happen to let anything slip when the wardens interrogated him?"
"I believe he mentioned something, but I was not present when he did."
"Who was privy to this?"
"Both wardens, the north woman and the elf."
"Elf!" for the first time Rork's face betrayed a flicker of surprise. "What elf?"
"An elf came to the village several days back, about the same time as those wardens rode in. Claimed he was a bounty hunter sent by the Burgomaster."
"Indeed, can you describe him?"
"Sure, quite tall with long silvery hair and scar along here," so saying he drew his finger across the left side of his face from above the ear to the middle of his cheek.
"I should have known he would be here." Rork turned to the man seated to his right, "Heinz, have that village searched from top to bottom and if you find nothing search the surrounding woodland. I want it confirmed the elf is dead." As the man scurried away Rork caught sight of the constable's expression. "That elf whom you dismiss so casually works for the Burgomaster. The baron's plans depend upon surprise, the last thing we need is this elf getting word of what happened here to Mordheim and putting the Burgomaster on the alert."
"It seems there is much I have not been told in this affair."
"You and everyone else, you were told what you needed to know and nothing more. Perhaps if I had kept you more up to date on this affair then you could have taken precautions. It is done however, and if the elf was the one who slipped past us last night then we cannot waste time looking for him. We'll break camp at midday and put as much distance between ourselves and this place as we can. A few of us will remain to watch the area. Once we have found what we are looking for we will head for the river and offload our cargo."
--
Katarina glanced up as two guards climbed up into the wagon. One moved to unshackle her whilst the second unlocked Gerard's chains. The guard caught her gaze and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Don't try anything." She followed his gesture and saw a pair of guards with crossbows levelled. "Hold out your hands." She complied and the guard slipped a pair of shackles over her wrists, chaining her hands behind her back. He steered her to the edge where a third guard helped her down and placed a second set of shackles around her ankles. "Just so you know not to try and escape miss."Katarina fought back the urge to spit in his face.
Gerard joined her shortly. In the eyes of the raiders his wound did not make him any less of a threat, although they did not shackle his hands behind his back. One of them gave him a dry branch retrieved from the forest to use as a makeshift crutch. Their guards pushed them forwards unceremoniously and they were escorted away from the wagons.
--
Kurzwiel lay on his side, bound securely. It was clear he had been beaten severely, his face was mottled with bruises and dried blood had stained the lower half of his face. He looked up at them through swollen eyes and managed a weak nod. "Nice to see you both."
Bertholdt stood beside him, hands resting on the haft of his two handed axe. Just beyond him stood two figures. One of them was a tall man with blond hair and beard, the other was of average height with close-cropped black hair and dressed in black furs.
Gerard studied them warily. "Which of you is the leader?"
"I'll ask the questions young warden." It was the dark haired one who spoke; Katarina recognised his voice as that of the man who had persuaded them to surrender at the inn.
"What's going on here, you gave your word no harm would come to us."
"Correction, I gave you my word that your lives would be spared miss, but I said nothing about actual harm. Now to business," he began to pace around them, walking a circular route. "As you may have guessed I have a vested interest in your friend here," he gestured to Kurzwiel with his foot, "and he is proving rather...uncooperative. I was hoping one of you might see sense and tell me what he has told you about the object's location."
Gerard feigned a puzzled expression. "What object? He told us nothing, I'm afraid we had no time to get him talking before you attacked."
"Nice try warden, but futile I'm afraid. The constable here overheard your discussion with the elf yesterday. We know he has hidden the object and that he told you where to find it. I require that information from you now."
"Even if I did know I would not tell you-you have no idea what you are dealing with here."
"Think carefully about what you say warden, as you have seen I am not afraid to be cruel should the need arise"
"You heard him, we will tell you nothing." Katarina's voice was low and dangerous.
"Then I am sorry, but you leave me no choice."
He nodded and one the guards punched Gerard full in the stomach. The warden doubled over gasping for breath. His attacker grabbed him by the hair and yanked him up to deliver a second blow to the gut. As he sagged a second guard kicked his crutch away and he fell to the ground. The second guard stepped forward and placed the heel of his boot squarely over Gerard's wound. It was like having a knife twisted around inside the flesh. He screamed as the pain shot up his leg, fingers digging into the ground. He found it hard to draw breath.
The guard removed his foot for a moment before re-applying the pressure. Gerard gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to scream.
"Enough!" Katarina moved to intervene. One guard grabbed her by the hair, jerked her backwards and punched her hard in the chest. She gave a gasp of pain and staggered. The guard drew his fist back for another blow. Katarina's head snapped forward, her forehead struck the guard in the nose. He fell back, stunned. She planted a swift kick to his left knee, which gave way with a crack.
Bertholdt wrapped her across the back of her head with the hilt of his axe. Katarina fell forwards, hit the earth and struggled to regain her feet. One of the guards leapt forward and planted a swift kick to her stomach, the blow driving the air from her body.
The raider she had attacked was clutching his knee in pain. "Kill the bitch!" he hissed.
His comrade renewed the attack, landing several solid kicks. She rolled up into a ball, attempting to shield herself from the blows.
"Stop that!" Gerard struggled to rise. A kick to the face sent him sprawling. The guard responsible moved in and planted several solid kicks in his ribs forcing him to curl up for protection.
"Enough!" Rork raised his hand in a signal to stop. Heeding their leader's command both guards ceased the attacks and pulled back. Rork waited patiently whilst the captives regained their breath before he spoke.
"That was brave, but it won't save you. Fortunately I don't have the time to conduct a proper interrogation so you will be spared this for now. I will give you until tomorrow to think over your situation. If you do not tell me what I want to know then I promise things will get much worse for you. Now take them away...and see to that leg, looks like you've opened up the wound."
As the three prisoners were manhandled away he turned to Thork. "Keep an eye on them; if they don't talk by tomorrow then we'll commence a proper interrogation."
"Would it not be better to begin sooner?"
"No, let them sweat for a bit. Perhaps it will wear them down. If not then we can interrogate one in front of the other. If I read things correctly those two don't like seeing harm done to one-another."
--
The captives were returned to the wagon and chained up. By midday the bandits had completed their search of the village. Everything of value was salvaged, the wagons loaded and the villager's few animals secured.
The raiders struck camp and rode off at midday. Only four of them were left behind. Their orders were simple- keep a watch on the area and report any sign of relief from Mordheim. Once Rork had the information he required he would despatch a rider to collect the object. The village was left to stand for now, but once their business was concluded the remaining buildings were to be put to the torch. The bodies of the fallen raiders were buried; those of the villagers were left for the crows.
--
No-one saw the two sets of eyes that watched from the shadows of the trees. At one spot in the branches of a tree a pair of blue eyes observed the departure of the raiders. Once they were out of sight the owner dropped down from its vantage point and disappeared amongst the foliage.
At a different point, unseen by anyone else, a pair of red eyes observed the party's departure. For a moment their gaze turned to the village. Then they vanished.
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