The Smugglers' Journal – Chapter 5

Yan and Jakob stared at each other in perplexed silence.

"Did… did you just hear that tree… speak?" Jakob asked.

"Yah"

"Oh good. So it isn't just me…"

Another call came from the tree:

"Friends… Help… Please!"

The voice was faint and trembling. It certainly did not belong to a beastman. Could it belong to a tree?

Yan and Jakob tentatively approached the oak. Jakob drew his cutlass with deliberate slowness, although he wondered what use it would be against a tree. He would put far more faith in the two handed battleaxe Yan had lifted from the beastman chief.

They were now standing at the foot of the low mound, just below the oak's twisted 'face'. Jakob fancied he could spot something moving in the shadowy belly of the trunk.

"W-what d-do you want?" Jakob called, his voice shaking nearly as badly as his hand. The point of his cutlass was tracing figures-of-eight in the air.

"L-let me out!"

This time the voice was almost a shriek. There was more frantic movement from within the trunk. A long, pale hand was thrust out through one of the holes.

"You think we should?" Yan asked Jakob in a low voice.

"I think that's a man in there" Jakob replied "It might be one of their prisoners."

"Stand back!" Jakob called up "We're going to cut you out!"

Yan planted one foot on the mound and raised the axe behind his head. The ancient wood, weak with rot and decay, gave way under the second blow. Yan leapt back as a figure tumbled headlong through the gap onto the clearing floor. Jakob, still keeping the cutlass handy, bent down and gingerly rolled it onto its back.

It was a man, quite young; no more than twenty-five winters, Jakob guessed. He was a sickly pale colour that contrasted sharply with the dark hair and beard which clung plant-like to his head. He wore a long peasant's smock of coarse fiber, as favoured by the northern farmers.

"Are you alright?" Jakob asked, gently shaking the man's shoulder. He gave a soft moan and opened his eyes. Jakob sprang back in horror: he had never seen eyes like them before. Red-rimmed and of a brilliant, almost unnatural, green, they seemed to stare right through you and beyond. These were clearly eyes that had seen far more than human eyes were meant to see.

After a moment, the stranger spoke. His voice was cracked and oddly distorted, as if he couldn't quite remember how to speak.

"Uhh!" he croaked, pointing at Jakob "Ohh! Gimme… gimme it!"

Jakob felt the hairs rising on the back of his neck. The sounds of the forest were deadened. His whole body felt slightly numb. The only sense that remained clear was the smell of sulphur in his nostrils, sharp and pungent. The stranger tried to sit up, bracing one hand on the ground. As he raised it up again, the ground seemed to melt away under his fingers, leaving behind a little face, leering up at them. It laughed in a high-pitched voice and gnashed its teeth at Jakob. Jakob screamed and stumbled back. Yan gave a cry and stamped on the face, but this simply made it laugh harder.

The stranger was now on his feet and lurching toward Jakob. With each step he took, more of the little faces appeared.

"Gimme! Gimme fix!"

Clouds began to roll over the, previously clear, night sky. Jakob tried to raise the cutlass, but his arm just hung dead at his side. Yan was furiously trying to stamp out the faces, but to no avail. The stranger staggered forward and collapsed to his knees in front of Jakob.

"Fix! Please! I need a fix!"

"I… I don't know what you mean!"

Thin wisps of green fire were beginning to curl from the sides of the stranger's mouth.

"'Root!" he screamed "Gimme wyrdroot!"

He gave a great, croaking cry and fell onto his hands and knees, belching green fire that burnt the grass in front of him. Jakob fell onto his back, the cutlass dropped forgotten at his side. He scrabbled furiously to open his doublet. Offering up a silent prayer of protection to Sigmar, he tossed a handful of 'root to the stranger and crawled away as fast as he could.

With an almost rapturous expression on his face, the stranger crammed the brown leaves into his mouth and fell onto his back, chewing vigorously. The atmosphere in the clearing suddenly relaxed, like a taught bowstring being released. With a piercing shriek, the faces were swallowed into the earth. The clouds faded to grey wisps against the obsidian sky.

"What go on?" asked Yan, eyes searching the ground for the faces.

"I… I don't know" Jakob panted as he climbed to his feet "I think… I think it was magic"

When he received no reply, Jakob turned to see Yan standing with his head cocked to one side.

"What's wrong?"

"Ydyr come. Must go. Now"

Jakob strained his ears, but couldn't hear anything.

"Are you sure…?" he began to ask, but the Norscan was already sprinting towards the trees.

"Wait!" Jakob cried as the Norscan vanished from sight.

He was just about to panic when Yan reappeared, his white cloak fastened round his neck. He was also carrying Jakob's travel bag in his free hand.

"Here" he said, throwing it to Jakob. A quick rummage inside told Jakob that the journal was still safe. That was good. Things would have become even more complicated if he had lost the book…

"Come. We go south-west" Yan pointed to a particularly dense part of the forest.

Jakob nodded. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he started towards the trees. He had not gone five paces when he stumbled, the stranger's hands grasping his ankle.

"Don't leave me!" he moaned.

Jakob tried to shake him free, but the stranger clung on harder.

"Yan, help!"

Jakob felt the panic rise in his chest again. Now he could hear the drums. They were getting closer.

"Please" the stranger whined. Using Jakob as a support, he managed to pull himself to his feet. At first it looked like he would be unable to support himself, but after a few erratic steps he seemed to find his balance.

The drums were very close now. Jakob almost fancied he could hear the beastmen's hoofbeats.

"Hurry!" shouted Yan from the edge of the clearing. Jakob forced his sore limbs into a brisk run.

"What he doing?" asked Yan. Glancing back, Jakob saw the stranger following him close behind. His run was a stranger cross between a limp and a sprint, like a rabbit that hadn't quite got the hang of hopping.

"Don't… leave… me" he panted, waving furiously.

"Will he slow us down?" Jakob asked. The drums were almost on top of them now.

"He fall behind, he left behind" Yan shrugged.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The first thing Franz noticed was the lack of colour. The dull winter sky was so unremarkable as to be incredible.

Franz rolled over. Every bit of his body throbbed with the movement. But that didn't matter. He felt… calm. Very calm. His thoughts were lazy, drifting softly across his mind's eye. They no longer burned like ice.

He looked round. He was lying on stone, beside a small stream. The stream ran down from the hill above in a narrow gully, and off into the pine forest ahead. The trees were thinner here, growing in soft, rich earth. It was all very ordinary, but to Franz, it was like paradise.

The colours stayed as they were. There were no winds to scald him. No shadows flickered between trees, always just beyond the edge of vision. Most importantly, there were no voices. Nobody to taunt him in words he couldn't hear, in tongues he didn't know, to make him promises he couldn't understand.

Franz licked his lips, tasting the wyrdroot. He was safe.

Where are they, he wondered, looking round again. Where are the people who gave me the 'root? Did someone give it to me? What happened to the monsters? Where had they all gone?

Franz spotted two men sitting on the opposite bank of the stream, their backs to a large stone. They made a very strange pair. The one on the left automatically drew the eye: huge and blonde, built like a bear with a huge axe across his knees. His companion was also tall, but with none of his companion's muscle. He was dark and pale, dressed in a fine suit of dark brown.

I should go over and talk to them, thought Franz, lying back. As soon as I've got the energy.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Jakob leant back against the stone and let out a deep breath. Everything was quiet now. The events of the last few hours drifted by in the deep recesses of his mind as though they were naught but a bad dream.

To say that the last two days had come as a shock would have been a vast understatement. One minute he was a respectable, albeit poor, scholar desperately trying to put together his first work on the peoples of Norsca. The next, he had been thrown together with one of the aforementioned Norscans, had been forced to escape a smugglers' ship, stolen their ledger, narrowly avoided the villains' clutches, captured, scared half-to-death, nearly sacrificed, roasted alive and dismembered and, to top it all, was now in the company of a heretic wizard!

Throughout his bitter reflections, Jakob saw that his companion was staring off into the distance; apparently his favourite past time during times of hardship. The last few hours had truly torn through Jakobs's views of the Norscan. Indeed, when they had first met Jakob had thought him to be nothing more than a burdensome oaf. Yan's behaviour last night had shown him to be not only a skilled warrior, but a cunning one with tremendous woodcraft. Jakob was certain that his only chance of survival was to stick close to the Norscan, at least until they reached civilisation again.

"How did you do it?" Jakob asked, his curiosity got the better of him as he reached for his quill and parchment.

"Huh?" Yan blinked rapidly as he was drawn back into the here-and-now.

Jakob rolled his eyes. Apparently he hadn't been completely wrong about the Norscan. "In the forest. The drums."

The Norscan's blue eyes widened in recognition. "Oh ya! Old Norscan trick. Used to hunt troll packs."

Jacob scratched away with his quill, waiting for the Norscan to elaborate on his answer. When none was forthcoming, Jakob discretely rolled his eyes as he prompted the big man. "How – did – you – do - it?"

Yan eyes met his in a scrutinizing gaze. Clearly the Norscan was unsure whether to reveal his secrets to Jakob. The Norscan's hard features relaxed though, much to Jakobs's relief as he began his explanation. "Use hollow logs. Make noise bounce off trees."

"So it's an illusion of sound?" Jakob asked, scratching away furiously in order to keep up with the Norscan

"Ya. Taught to Yan when Yan still young" the Norscan replied, his features locked in concentration as he recalled old memories.

"Are all Norscan's taught skills like this?"

"Ya," Yan replied, "taught from young to hunt."

Jakob nodded as he scribbled away, occasionally glancing from his parchment to Yan. "Are you taught to fight?"

Yan looked at him as though Jakob had just fallen out of a tree. "Ya, taught fight as soon as can walk. Also taught to arbour."

"Arbour?" Jakob asked perplexedly. "What's that?"

Yan frowned as he searched his limited understanding of Reik to find the proper translation. "Arbour, bear shirt, er…bear sking?"

"Berserking?"

"Ya."

Jakob drew in his breath as he remembered the previous night's encounter, when he had seen the savage glint that had entered Yan's eyes as he fought the monstrous ram-creature. From his own research on Norsca, Jack knew the berserker 'talent' was not a common ability amongst the Norscans. It was said to be incredibly difficult for a warrior to enter such a state of mind. The advantages however, were said to far surpass the cost: namely the loss of control. It was said that when a warrior entered this state of mind they possessed the strength of ten men and could shrug off blows that would fell an ogre. Seeing Yan last night Jakob found it all too easy to believe.

The scholar was interrupted from his pseudo-interrogation of Yan when their newest friend stumbled over to the rock. Jakob instinctively flinched as the sorcerer drew beside them. He noticed Yan do the same, although the Norscan tried to hide it.

"Hey, friends" the wizard said, a lazy smile spreading across his face. His voice, now he had rested, was soft and slow. He gave the impression of supreme relaxation. Jakob wondered what had happened to the hysterical creature that had followed them the night before. Was this what 'root could do to a man?

"Hey… how are you?" the wizard asked, sprawling onto the ground before the stone. Jakob carefully drew his feet up under his body.

"Whoa" the wizard said, his head waving slightly as if trying to get them into focus "What's with all the silence, friends?"

Yan was watching the wizard out of the corner of his eyes. Jakob suppressed a shudder: he recognised the predatory look on Yan's face from last night.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" the wizard shook his head and broadened his smile "My name… is Franz… What's yours?"

He held out a skinny hand. Neither of them took it.

"Whoa, what's with all the… negative feeling, friends?" Franz asked.

"Get away from me, heretic" Jakob spat, feeling for his cutlass.

"He… heretic?" Franz didn't seem to understand.

"You're a wizard" Jakob said "A hedge wizard. A heretic chaos worshiper, no doubt. If we're caught with you, it's death."

"Wizard?" Franz looked puzzled

"Wizard? Is… is that what it is?"

He looked genuinely confused. Jakob surprised himself by feeling a small pang of sympathy for the unkempt sorcerer.

"I'm sorry, but you can't stay with us" he explained "We'll give you some food, but you must leave. Now"

It seemed that Franz had trouble taking this in.

"But… but you can't leave me" he said at length "Not… not with those… things so close."

"The greatest threat here is you" Jakob snapped, hand resting on the cutlass.

"Besides," he added, "aren't you their god, or something?"

"What? No!" Franz protested "I… hid in that tree. To escape them. They tried to get in and I… I panicked. I don't… don't know what happened after that. I remember… I remember fire, and being freed. But that's all."

It sounded plausible to Jakob, but he was unmoved.

"Go" he ordered "Take what you need, and go."

"Whoa, not a chance" said Franz, the lazy smile returning "I ain't leaving blondie here" he nodded at Yan "He's my way out of this place."

Jakob bridled and made to draw his cutlass, only to be restrained by Yan's arm.

"He not cause any more trouble" the Norscan pointed out.

"But he might" Jakob countered.

"If he do, we run. Or kill him"

Jakob considered this. It didn't have to be for long. They could lose him as soon as they reach civilisation. He just seemed to want to leave the forest, like them.

"Very well" he sighed, with bad grace "You can stay. But only while we're in the forest, understood?"

"Yeah, yeah" Franz said carelessly, stretching out and dangling one foot in the stream.

"So where're you from, blondie?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"Norsca"

"Norsca!"

For the first time since last night, Franz seemed genuinely bothered about something.

"So you're a Northman? A Chaos-worshipper?" he asked fearfully.

"No, that's a common misconception" Jakob began, before he could stop himself "I've been doing a lot of research on this subject, and there is a good deal of evidence to suggest that the coastal tribes, particularly those on the south coast, do not engage in any form of demon worship. Indeed, some tribes do not appear to engage in any sort religious observance at all…"

Jakob had just launched into a speech about the unusual, vegetable-based rituals observed by the Rukt tribe, as recorded by Richter von Oberstan, when Franz interrupted.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, friend. What are you? Some kind of expert?"

"I'm working on a book on the Norscan tribes" Jakob explained "I believe they are a greatly misunderstood people. Can you believe that they get less than half a chapter in von Klapam's treatise on 'The Race of Men'?"

Franz held up his hand to prevent another flood of unwanted information.

"Whoa, whoa. So… so, is this why you and blondie are together? You following him around?"

"I was trying to barter passage to Norsca" Jakob said ruefully "But there were… complications. That's why we're together."

For better or for worse, he added silently.