The Witch Hunters, Book 1: The Prophet of Ash

The Bleiches Pfred claimed to be an inn. In truth, the place was a dingy, single story hovel whose straw roof seemed on the verge of crushing the building it sat upon beneath its considerable bulk. Siegfried had to stoop as he passed over the threshold. Kurt and Janus did likewise. The interior was poorly lit and so cramped as to be claustrophobic. The stink in the stale air reminded him a little too much of the temple back at Eichen. There was a tension in the air here, a sense of something lurking in the shadows...again like the temple.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else?” Kurt asked the prince. Siegfried was relieved he wasn’t the only person to feel...whatever it was he felt in here now. He wanted to agree with the large man, but there was one small problem:

“There isn’t anywhere else, Kurt.”

“I don’t like this place,” Janus said, looking around. “I’m not staying here.”

Brilliant. “Janus, we need to stick together.”

“I agree,” the runner replied with a brusque nod. “That’s why we should leave and camp outside of town.”

The prince turned just enough to be able to glare at Janus. Kurt stood between them, and both could only glance spitefully at each other over the bigger man’s shoulders: the inn’s hall was too narrow for anything else. Siegfried could hear murmuring coming from deeper within the darkness. Someone was blocking the light that should have been coming from the doorway. Would whoever was out there please oblige the company and either come in already, or be gone?

“I’m not staying here,” Janus said with sharp finality. “Go ask your questions. I’ll wait outside. This place smells bad, Siegfried. This whole town smells bad. We shouldn’t linger here.”

Prince Siegfried wanted to respond, wanted to command the wayward hunter to follow him in, but Janus had already turned and stooped his way out. Siegfried cursed the dog under his breath. He could not even chase after Janus. Kurt’s girth filled the narrow space between himself and the door.

“Let’s just get this over with,” the larger man growled at him.

They went inside, bringing a paltry bit of light with them. The fire pit in the centre of the common room held the remnants of a fire, which the occupants huddled around and seemed content to let die. Their features were difficult to discern, but Siegfried had already judged that he did not like the look of them. It was cold inside, and the shadows were growing by the minute. Despite the chill in the air and the abundance of fuel, not one of the large men that took up the entire cramped inn’s seating made the slightest move to stoke it, or feed it. Siegfried’s gaze was drawn to the eyes of the one opposite him. The prince watched the dying embers reflected in the stranger’s eyes. Why he did this, he could not fathom. The light was so bad in here he could barely tell what species of man he was openly staring at. He felt Kurt tap his shoulder gently, and it took a surprising effort to redirect his attention away from the silent man and to the innkeeper. The fellow was poorly dressed but large and powerfully built, and Siegfried’s first thought was that he’d taken control of this establishment after only recently slaying its previous owner. The innkeeper regarded them both with naked suspicion.

“What are you supposed to be?” the innkeeper asked finally, staring at Siegfried, taking in his fine clothes and expensive sword. Siegfried had the presence of mind to insist they all hide their star stones under their clothes before passing entering the town.

“I’m a knight,” Siegfried lied with surprising ease. He nodded to Kurt. “That’s my squire. I’m looking for some people.”

“Lots of people come through here, sir.”

“Get many minotaurs?” The prince asked.

The man’s eyes narrowed. Behind them, he heard the sound of chairs scraping against the floor. Siegfried felt as if his heart were about to stop. His left hand slipped into his cloak and found the dagger he had hidden there. Heavy footsteps approached him from behind. At his side Kurt stirred.

“What kind of minotaur we talking here?” the innkeeper asked, drawing the prince’s attention back to him. Siegfried couldn’t see his hands in the dying light.

The heavy footsteps were right behind him. The prince began subtly drawing his short blade.

“Big and black, with strange eyes. Travelling with a mixed bunch. You see anyone like that?”

The footsteps reached him, and continued. One of the heavy figures appeared at the periphery of Siegfried’s vision, passing him on his way to the bar. The brute’s voice was slurred. He asked for another two bottles of schnapps for him and his companions. The innkeeper turned to attend his paying customer. Siegfried let go of a breath he had not known he had been holding, his limbs suddenly feeling sluggish and empty. He watched the innkeeper hand over some bottles for a silver piece, and swayed unsteadily as he were just another drunk.

The brute passed them by, booze in hand. He was deathly pale, and he smiled at the prince in a way that sent shivers down Siegfried’s spine.

“I’m waiting outside,” Kurt whispered.

“Don’t you fucking dare leave me alone in here, Bauer!” the prince hissed in response.

“You were saying, sir?” the innkeeper asked.

Siegfried repeated his question. His arm was still hidden within his cloak. His hand had not left his blade, which now waited half out of its sheath. He could not see Kurt just then, but was vaguely aware of the large man’s presence just behind him. He had stayed put. Siegfried was grateful for that.

“Someone like that passed through here,” the innkeeper said with a slow nod. “He was a preacher. Had a bunch of fanatics following him, and some others that weren’t so fanatical.”

“Were they heading to Gozer?” Kurt asked the man quickly.

The innkeeper nodded.

“Did they say what they were doing?” The prince cut in, quickly.

“Just that he was going to do some preaching, sir. He did some here. Went to a shelter for the poor that’s paid for by a bunch of guilty feeling lords and ladies that never visit. Did some more preaching in the square. I didn’t hear it, and neither did my usual customers. Must not have been too thrilling. He didn’t stay longer after. Some of his people bought supplies at the store, but that was about it. None of his people even came here for a drink. Queer bunch though, if what I heard is true.”

“Where did they come from?” Siegfried asked.

“Schweigen,” the innkeeper answered with a bored shrug. “So I heard. You gonna buy something?”

Siegfried dropped a gold coin on the counter. Kurt was on his heels the instant he made to leave.

“Well?” asked Janus. He was standing by their horses, idly playing with his hatchet while some locals across the muck covered street watched him suspiciously.

“Eisengrim was right. They definitely came from the Dead Lands,” Siegfried reported to the annoyed looking wolf-man. “They said they were from Schweigen, but that’s the edge of the world now, really. There’s nothing else out there but the old land of the elves.”

“They could have been lying,” Kurt suggested.

“Perhaps,” Siegfried agreed. “But I don’t see why. They’ve been pretty brazen so far in their actions. I think it’s safe to assume they were telling the truth, and Schweigen was probably their planned destination before going back out there.”

“Does that mean they’ll be showing up here?” asked Janus. Siegfried noticed the runner was only half paying attention to their conversation. His sharp eyes were watching the windows and dank alleys between the few buildings that still stood here, defiantly refusing to sink into the earth. This whole town had an unhealthy air about it, like a sick old man that refused to expire. Siegfried knew that his uncle had given out grants of land and money to anyone willing to settle in Anderswo, or anywhere else nearer the Dead Lands, but the very notion seemed like folly to the prince as he stood, looking about. Who would want to come this close to that evil place, unless something in their own natures drew them here?

“If they do,” he heard Kurt say then, drawing him back to the now. “Then maybe we can try and…I don’t know, pretend to join them? This black minotaur’s a preacher, right? Those kinds are always looking for followers.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Kurt,” Siegfried replied. Like Janus, he had found himself cautiously watching the alleys, checking the windows overlooking the street they stood on. It had to be paranoia, he told himself, but it did not stop him feeling certain that they were being watched. “Eisengrim promised me he’d come here within the next day or so.”

“After doing what? Just tracking that monster?”

“Possibly,” the prince replied with a shrug. He offered no further information. He knew Eisengrim, but he couldn’t be certain what might have happened by now. Did that count as a lie?

“I wouldn’t worry just yet, Kurt,” Janus said, his tone dismissive. “Eisengrim’s an old bull. Klara used to mutter about how damned slow he could be when she was in her cups a little at night. There’s a lot of them, and just a few hunters. They wouldn’t have the balls it took to strike at this Volkard. Now, if it had been a party of hunters from my people, then every last one of the bastards that slaughtered everyone at your farm would be hanging by their ankles from the trees, giving their blood to the earth so Eegah, He Who Drinks, could not have it when He came to steal the souls from their bodies in the night.”

Siegfried nodded. He was not really listening to Janus. He had noticed a large building down the muddy road of Anderswo with a wide wooden porch out front littered with benches and barrels. A dirty, faded sign crowned it, the colour and definition of the words almost washed away completely by God alone knew how many years of rain, wind, and sun. This was obviously the store which the innkeeper had mentioned. Under normal circumstances, the prince knew that questioning anyone inside would be the next logical step in the investigation. Siegfried, however reluctant to do so. Something about this place and its people, beyond the filth and obvious poverty, made his skin crawl.

There was something very wrong here, something that forbade him from crossing the street and going into the store. They had provisioned themselves very well in Eichen before coming here. Siegfried had even purchased a horse for Biana, and all the food and gear she would need for a safe ride back to the Capital. She would be safe, though this hadn’t stopped Janus being sullen and withdrawn about the whole affair on the ride here. The prince cared little for how the runner felt about things, especially knowing that Biana had escaped any further responsibilities here. He ardently wished just then, and only to himself, that it could have been him riding back to the Palace, and the safety of home.

No, enough of this.

Nothing could be gained from speaking to anyone in the store, or anyone else in this place. Siegfried was certain of that. They would only waste their time, and that was against them enough as it was. It was late afternoon already, judging by the position of the sun above them. It might take them time to find a good, safe camping spot outside of town. As little as he cared to admit it, Janus had been right on that count. Though he could not be certain why it was, Siegfried was certain now that they would not be safe staying in town. The prince couldn’t imagine what might threaten them. It was enough to know that this place was bad, and that Schweigen would probably be worse.

Let’s hope we won’t have to find out, the prince thought, as he turned and gave the order to his companions to mount up. There was no protest or delay from either Kurt or the bitter, scowling runner. As they set off, Siegfried felt eyes on them, tracking them from behind half-drawn curtains or cracked shutters, as they left the defenceless town. Had Volkard left anyone behind that might be working for him, as the mad priest back in Eichen apparently had been? Siegfried could not say, but it never hurt to be cautious.

“We’ll camp somewhere off of the road leading into the woods,” Siegfried said, after they had passed the last vestige of the town. “We won’t camp too close. Janus, you’ll need to find us somewhere defensible that will let us see the road. We’ll keep a watch for Eisengrim and the others from there.”

“What if we miss them?” asked Kurt. “What if they don’t come?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that yet, Kurt,” Janus joked. “Half the town will have probably raped our rich friend’s corpse here before morning. Let’s worry about preventing that first, shall we?”

The runner had said this with a smile, and then a cruel wink towards Siegfried. The prince could only sneer back and hope he hadn’t turned too pale in fright. However it panned out, he suspected they were in for a very long night.