Chapter 4

Blood Bonds

For days they'd ridden hard to make it to the Principality of Ostland's capital city of Wolfenburg. The black and white pennants proudly displaying the red bull of Ostland fluttered in the breeze over the parapets of the rebuilt walls. The large city was certainly not Altdorf, and in the wake of the Chaos incursions, Wolfenburg had suffered immeasurably, but there the pennants snapped in the wind as it switched directions, as if they were soldiers themselves, proudly standing in the face of overwhelming opposition as Ostland and the other nations of the Empire had done against the vile forces of Chaos.

Carsten was tired, his eyes bloodshot as they rode to the gates. Two Empire Halberdiers stepped up and one grabbed the bridle of his horse as the other approached. "Ho there. Who are you? And what is your business in Wolfenburg friend?" The guard asked.

Pulling out the small iron badge of the twin tailed comet, Sigmar's holy symbol, he showed it to the guard. "I have come to speak to the Prince's court on a very urgent matter. Please in the name of Sigmar, let me pass." Carsten said tiredly, the strain from the past few days evident on his face. The guard looked at him for a moment, studying him before he nodded to his fellow and they let the two ride on through the gate.

Isolde was exhausted. The days long ride had left her sore and tired. The events of the last few days were enough to wear on the mind of anyone and for Isolde it was especially hard. So she clung to the Witch Hunter as they rode. At the gates, she looked at the guards, exhaustion etched on her features.

They rode through the city streets, stopping to ask a guardsman for directions until they were directed to a Cathedral of Sigmar. The stones still showed scorch-marks from the siege that the city had endured, but like the faith itself, the Cathedral was a testament to the unbreakable nature of the Empire. The two of them rode up and Carsten dismounted, reaching up to help her down from the horse's back.

She held on for the last of the ride. Barely seeing the tall stone houses of the city. When they stopped at the Cathedral, Isolde looked up, blinking as she forced some of her fatigue back, and sighed. "We're here?" The young woman groaned when Carsen slid off the horse and when he helped her down, she cried out as her legs collapsed under her. They were too weak and sore to support her.

His arm snaked around her waist and caught her. "We're here for now... We'll get you inside and we'll have a rest before talking to the Priest of Sigmar and then gaining an audience with His Majesty the Grand Prince." Said Carsten sighing as he nodded a bit and helped his exhausted companion move into the halls of the Church. Several Acolytes, upon seeing them enter the temple, moved to assist the two very weary travelers.

"Gods.. I can't feel my legs!" She said in a pained voice as she held onto him. So tired was she, Isolde didn't even think about her brand. All she wanted was to lie down so she could rest her aching legs and backside.

"You'll be better soon." He said softly as the acolytes took the two of them away to a hostelry that the Church had set up for travelers associated with the Church of Sigmar. With tired eyes and achingly numb muscles, Carsten stripped off as much of his clothing as he could manage and twisted his feet from the riding boots he wore to lay back in bed and fall into a deep and immediate sleep.

Isolde managed to pull off her boots and vest before collapsing on the bed into an exhausted sleep. As she slept, her dreams turned dark and twisted and she saw that terrible day again. Reliving it again and again. While she slept, she moaned, clawing at the bedding as she rolled onto her stomach fitfully in the dreamscape.

It was mid afternoon when Carsten finally awoke and got a chance to speak to the high priest of Sigmar for Wolfenburg. He explained everything. His mission, his investigation, and the clues that it had led to, including the altercation with the heretics in the forest clearing and their subsequent destruction of the ritual site.

When he finished explaining, the aging priest frowned and his brow furrowed as he took in and weighed the words of the Witch Hunter.

"Grave times. These are grave times indeed when Chaos is once again at our doorstep. We must get you to the Grand Prince at once." The priest said with a nod. "Wake your companion if she is not already awake already and prepare yourself. After his evening meal, we will see the Prince." The priest resolved and dismissed Carsten.

Isolde woke up in pain. Her legs had stiffened so when she moved, they sent stabs of intense pain into her body. It took the young woman almost half an hour to get out of bed and move to relieve herself. By the time the suns was nearing the horizon, she was moving easier. It still hurt to move, but her legs didn't feel like they would fall out from under her. As she waited, she washed and quickly wiped down her clothing. The sturdy clothing she'd worn her entire life suddenly seemed provincial in the capital. So she was waiting when Carsten knocked.

He knocked on her door and blinked a bit when she opened it. "I hope you slept well. We have an audience this evening with the Grand Prince... He will undoubtedly ask questions about the incident and I think it would be best if you were there with me to answer them." He said to her with a slight nod.

"I ache in places I didn't know I had, but I can walk and sit. Don't ask me to ride anytime soon." She said, clearly in pain, but bearing up well. Isolde glanced around, biting her lip. "There is a problem... I've never had a meal with any nobility. I don't know how to eat like they do and my clothing.." Plucking at her shirt, she looked at him. It was clean and well made, but clearly made for hard work and not more pleasant company.

"Well we've both got something in common with each other there. We'll be seeing him after his evening meal so we'll be dining here with the priests of Sigmar and then be on our way to the audience." He said with a slight smile. "If you wish to rest more, do so, I'll summon you before we eat if you so desire." He told her.

"Eat dinner with the Prince in this?" She asked, appalled as she plucked her shirt hem. "You can be excused. You're a Witch Hunter. Me? I'm just a peasant. It's very improper that I be seen at the Grand Prince's table, let alone eating dinner with him.."

"Then we'll find you something..." Carsten furrowed his brow. "We must be there, however. The Prince is keenly interested in what has been going on in your village. What we uncovered." He said.

Isolde stretched, grimacing. "Or that. I would like to rest. Can we do it quick?"

"Yes. Come with me. We'll find you something to wear." Carsten said with a sharp nod and offered her his arm.

The brown haired woman took his arm and let him guide her. She was more concerned at being able to walk with some semblance of a normal stride, but she knew that she looked ridiculous. Riding several days on a horse non-stop for the first time was not the best way to do it.

Carsten escorted her to the marketplace, occasionally looking over his shoulder in the crowded markets of Wolfenburg. Now and again, a man in a brown leather jerkin with dark hair and patch covering his left eye appeared behind them. Carsten frowned, and kept a hand on the pommel of his rapier.