said Max. ‘Do not leave him to face this trial alone.’
‘What trial?’ said Felix.
A knock startled him.
Kolya’s saw-edged face appeared from behind the partitioning crates. His gaunt cheeks were drawn as though he had been up all night, and his dark hair was wet. The Kislevite took in Felix’s drawn sword with a raised eyebrow.
‘They say man who fights monsters in dreams need not wake up.’
‘What do you want?’ said Felix irritably, lowering his sword to the bedding.
‘Zabójka asks for you.’
‘And Gotrek always gets what he wants.’
Kolya shrugged. ‘I do not care to know him as you do, but I think he is… ashamed for what happened.’
Felix snorted, then winced as pain flared in his jaw. He suspected a broken bone, but he was no expert. Max could wile away the entire day at his bedside, but a little healing magic was clearly too much to expect. He turned to the wizard but the box on which he had been sitting was empty, Felix’s belongings piled neatly around it. The lantern stuttered and Felix suppressed a shudder as he dropped his gaze to the journal that had somehow found its way into his hand.
He wondered if he had woken from his nightmare at all.
Felix lowered himself from the back of the wagon, the rain-softened game trail on which they had stopped oozing sludgily underfoot. A handful of smaller wagons were strung out behind them, soldiers and camp followers clustered around for warmth and mutual protection. A thin mist wove between the dark boles of the forest, split fitfully by shafts of moonlight. Tattered shreds of cloud streamed across the face of the moon, and even though Felix could not feel the wind here amongst the trees he pulled his cloak close against it. There was a chill in the air. The treetops moaned quietly and their lower leaves shivered. Nightjars and robins cried out from the depths. Moonlight glinted back from watching eyes.
Felix took a deep breath, tasting the air. It was decidedly colder, holding to a trace of winter, and unless he was imagining things it was also a little bit thinner.
‘Are we close to the Middle Mountains?’
‘It always looks the same in your country. Everywhere, it is more trees.’
‘You sound like Gotrek.’
The Kislevite pulled a face.
Stars blinked through breaks in the canopy. Felix tried to guess what time of night it was. He would hazard ‘late’ and there was something in the feel of the air, a latency, that made him think early morning. Felix’s gaze lingered on the treeline. He could just walk away from this, just walk into the forest and go. His heart pulled on him to do it. He could leave Gotrek’s oath and Max’s prophecy right here and make his way to Middenheim alone.
‘Go if you want,’ said Kolya, reading his thoughts or perhaps just sharing them. ‘I tell Zabójka you hit me.’
Felix shook his head. He could not leave without Gustav, who in turn would probably not leave without his men. And these soldiers needed Felix. They believed in him, for better or worse, and Felix felt that he owed them something for that. No, like it or not, he and Gotrek were stuck with one another for a little while longer yet. Max could call it fate if he liked, but Felix preferred to think of it as a painful inconvenience that could not be cast aside soon enough.
As Felix watched, sergeants sent detachments of men fanning out into the forest.
‘But maybe you keep head down,’ Kolya continued in the same off-hand tone. ‘I shoot two beastmen scouts earlier today, and that man there?’ The Kislevite pointed to a Hochland forester in green and umber as he strung his bow and disappeared into the forest. ‘He claims he sees northern rider. Me? I think it is a strange horse that tries to run in a forest.’
‘Take me to Gotrek,’ Felix said with a sigh.
Ever since he had been a child, forced to endure weeks of darkness and strange noises at his father’s lumber camps in the Drakwald, Felix had hated forests. He could
‘What trial?’ said Felix.
A knock startled him.
Kolya’s saw-edged face appeared from behind the partitioning crates. His gaunt cheeks were drawn as though he had been up all night, and his dark hair was wet. The Kislevite took in Felix’s drawn sword with a raised eyebrow.
‘They say man who fights monsters in dreams need not wake up.’
‘What do you want?’ said Felix irritably, lowering his sword to the bedding.
‘Zabójka asks for you.’
‘And Gotrek always gets what he wants.’
Kolya shrugged. ‘I do not care to know him as you do, but I think he is… ashamed for what happened.’
Felix snorted, then winced as pain flared in his jaw. He suspected a broken bone, but he was no expert. Max could wile away the entire day at his bedside, but a little healing magic was clearly too much to expect. He turned to the wizard but the box on which he had been sitting was empty, Felix’s belongings piled neatly around it. The lantern stuttered and Felix suppressed a shudder as he dropped his gaze to the journal that had somehow found its way into his hand.
He wondered if he had woken from his nightmare at all.
Felix lowered himself from the back of the wagon, the rain-softened game trail on which they had stopped oozing sludgily underfoot. A handful of smaller wagons were strung out behind them, soldiers and camp followers clustered around for warmth and mutual protection. A thin mist wove between the dark boles of the forest, split fitfully by shafts of moonlight. Tattered shreds of cloud streamed across the face of the moon, and even though Felix could not feel the wind here amongst the trees he pulled his cloak close against it. There was a chill in the air. The treetops moaned quietly and their lower leaves shivered. Nightjars and robins cried out from the depths. Moonlight glinted back from watching eyes.
Felix took a deep breath, tasting the air. It was decidedly colder, holding to a trace of winter, and unless he was imagining things it was also a little bit thinner.
‘Are we close to the Middle Mountains?’
‘It always looks the same in your country. Everywhere, it is more trees.’
‘You sound like Gotrek.’
The Kislevite pulled a face.
Stars blinked through breaks in the canopy. Felix tried to guess what time of night it was. He would hazard ‘late’ and there was something in the feel of the air, a latency, that made him think early morning. Felix’s gaze lingered on the treeline. He could just walk away from this, just walk into the forest and go. His heart pulled on him to do it. He could leave Gotrek’s oath and Max’s prophecy right here and make his way to Middenheim alone.
‘Go if you want,’ said Kolya, reading his thoughts or perhaps just sharing them. ‘I tell Zabójka you hit me.’
Felix shook his head. He could not leave without Gustav, who in turn would probably not leave without his men. And these soldiers needed Felix. They believed in him, for better or worse, and Felix felt that he owed them something for that. No, like it or not, he and Gotrek were stuck with one another for a little while longer yet. Max could call it fate if he liked, but Felix preferred to think of it as a painful inconvenience that could not be cast aside soon enough.
As Felix watched, sergeants sent detachments of men fanning out into the forest.
‘But maybe you keep head down,’ Kolya continued in the same off-hand tone. ‘I shoot two beastmen scouts earlier today, and that man there?’ The Kislevite pointed to a Hochland forester in green and umber as he strung his bow and disappeared into the forest. ‘He claims he sees northern rider. Me? I think it is a strange horse that tries to run in a forest.’
‘Take me to Gotrek,’ Felix said with a sigh.
Ever since he had been a child, forced to endure weeks of darkness and strange noises at his father’s lumber camps in the Drakwald, Felix had hated forests. He could
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