Author's Notes: Hi everyone sorry I haven't written in a while I have been working on another story of mine. Well I am back now so enjoy.
At first the journey to Altdorf was uneventful. Karl and Marx were traveling as part of a caravan that consisted of about a score of merchants and their servants as well as about fifteen guards. They met the rest of the caravan on the road just outside of the town gates; it was there that they met the third member of their group, Wilhelm, Marx's servant. Wilhelm was a youth about Karl's age, but much shorter and slimmer. He had light brown hair and features that could be considered androgynous. He greeted Marx respectfully but gave Karl a look that gave him the impression that the smaller boy was looking down his nose at him. Karl instantly did not like him. It was not just the look the other boy was giving him, nor was it the boy's obvious sense of superiority. No, there was also something else; a feeling of wrongness was coming off him. The same feeling, now that he thought about it, that was coming off of Marx as well.
"Now, now;" Said Marx in cheery tone that sounded a bit forced, "Let us all be civil to each other. Wilhelm, this is Karl, a fine strapping fellow who has graciously agreed to accompany us to Altdorf and see to my physical wellbeing; and this is Wilhelm who is here to see to my physical comfort." He ended this statement with a hearty laugh. Wilhelm signed and gave a slight roll of his eyes, Karl kept his expression impassive.
A few days later Karl saw one of the men from the caravan rifling through the cart that contained Marx's goods. He slipped up and brought his club down on the man's hand. The man gave a yelp and ran off. Marx praised him for spotting the thief; Wilhelm just muttered something about guard dogs.
They were on the road for almost three weeks before Marx announced when they stopped for the evening that they would reach Altdorf before sundown the next day. Karl wasn't surprised; he had seen the signs that they were approaching a city; the thinning of the trees and their passing increasing numbers of other people. Still, he was excited; he was going to see Altdorf, the capital of the Empire and the greatest city in the world! He smiled at the thought. He had always wanted to see a big city and now he was going to see the biggest of them all! His smile faltered when he saw Wilhelm looking at him with his usual condescending smirk.
Annoyed Karl got up and walked outside the camp. He walked about hoping the night air would cool his temper. Sigmar! That little runt got to him and he did not know why, he had done nothing to the boy and yet he seemed to enjoy aggravating him. Forget about him; Karl told himself. This time tomorrow you'll be in Altdorf, you'll have the money Marx promised you and you will never have to see that annoying little s/he again.
Just as he was heading back into the camp the wind shifted and he caught the scent. It was an odd sickly sweet scent and for some reason it set his teeth on edge. Turning around he sniffed at the air trying to locate its source. He found himself looking at a clump of trees about a hundred yards away from where he was standing. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the trees. There! Amid the trees he saw shapes moving about; starting to come closer to the camp, and in the light of the near-full moon he saw the glint of moonlight on metal.
"Who goes there?" He called at the approaching figures, who responded by breaking into a run towards him. Karl turned and ran back the way he had come, "To arms!" He yelled as he ran back to the camp. "To arms!"
His cries had alerted the others, several of whom came to see what he was yelling about. Upon seeing the approaching figures they too took up the cry and the whole camp was soon in an uproar. Guards snatched up weapons and turned to face the attackers, while merchants, servants and drivers took refuge under the wagons. Karl stationed himself next to Marx's wagon, under which Marx, Wilhelm and their driver cowered, and drew his dagger and club.
He did not have to wait long. With a great cry the attackers fell upon them. He did not know how many there were but he thought they outnumbered the defenders. Two of them came at him; men who could be twins and who smelled bizarrely of perfume. The one on the right was slightly ahead of the one on the left so Karl went for him first. He went in low and to the side and swung his club in a blow that shattered the man's knee. The man gave a cry, but it was one more of delight than pain. Karl had no time to think on this as the other man was approaching fast. Karl swung to face him as the man brought a short sword down in an overhead chop. Karl brought his club up and caught the blade as it began its decent. The blade cut into the wooden club but it didn't have sufficient momentum to cut through it. As the man struggled to free his blade Karl stepped in and thrust his dagger into the man's throat.
As he freed his blade he heard a grunt behind, turning he saw the first man, who had evidently been trying to rise, slump to the ground blood pouring from a wound to his back. Karl looked around confused, who had struck the blow? He hadn't and he didn't see any of the other guards near where he was. His musings were interrupted by a roar behind him. Turning he had to backpedal to avoid being struck by a massive blacksmith's hammer wielded by a large man built like a blacksmith and completely hairless and shirtless. The man swung again, this time grazing Karl and causing him to fall to the ground, his weapons falling from his hands. The man brought the hammer down and Karl had to roll to the side to avoid it.
Karl cursed and then he heard the roaring in his head again. How dare this thing, this prey threaten him. He did not feel any fear, either of the man or of discovery. It vanished under the roaring and the sudden rush of adrenalin he felt. He looked into the man's eyes; everything else, both sights and sounds fading, and was thrilled to see fear. He sprang to his feet and lunged. His right arm shot out and grabbed the hammer as the man tried frantically to swing it again. As he grabbed it Karl noted that his arm bulged with new muscles; indeed he noted that his entire body was swelling and straining against his cloths. Additionally; he saw that his finger nails were now claws several inches long. He twisted the hammer to the side and brought his left hand in for blow so hard he heard the man's skull crack. Karl lunged forward and bite out the man's throat. As the man fell to the ground Karl began to relax, noting as he did so that the sounds of the battle were beginning to die down.
He suddenly remembered he was not alone. He had to hide what he had done; his struggle had taken him away from the wagon and so he did not think anyone had seen what he had done, but he had to hide the evidence. Snatching up the hammer in one hand he wiped his mouth on his sleeve to get the blood off. Standing over the man he brought the hammer down on the man's head again and again. The massive hammer soon reduced the man's head and neck to a pulp; obliterating the teeth marks, as well as getting blood on both his sleeves to mingle with the blood he had wiped from his mouth.
"Oy lad, I think you got that one." Said Olaf, the head guard of the caravan. Turning Karl saw that all the other fighting had ended and several of the men were staring at him.
"Aye," Agreed Karl; trying to make his voice shake so they would put down his behavior to fear and exitement from his first fight, "I think I did."
Author's Notes: Well, another chapter down. Thanks for waiting; I will try to get the next update sooner. Goodbye for now and I would please ask all who are reading this to please pray for the victims of the Boston attack. Thank you and may Jesus bless you all.