059 - The Great Hunt

Sarge . . Solberg and Oskar . . hmm. Don't I know them from somewhere? Try as he might Magnus couldn't quite seem to place them in his memories. Wait . . thats right! The two soldiers on the road! The ones who'd been escorting those prisoners, the same ones who'd beat me to death! Bloody hell! What were they doing all the way out here? Have they been following me? Surely not . .

Their words . . the plan . . what plan? Some sort of solution . . a signal . .

Magnus puzzled over their words and appearance for the long hours of the night. Something they'd mentioned seemed to stick out, but he couldn't quite place it.

At first light the hunters stirred into life, lighting fires and preparing for the day ahead. Solberg and Oskar walked behind the scholarly looking Carl Lang alongside a couple of other guards.

Nearby, Waldemar emerged from his tent, already clad in his silver armour. He stretched and yawned, going over to the nearest campfire and sitting beside Pete.

There was no sense of urgency, no hurried movements in any of their actions, not in the fifty or so hunters or in the hero Waldemar.

On the opposite side of the camp from Magnus there was a stream, beyond the stream a forest. Magnus' attention was drawn by a sudden sound, the twang of a bow. Up through the air rose a single bolt, sailing across the stream in a lazy arc and falling into the campfire.

The bolt crackled in the flames for a moment, then exploded in a cloud of red powder, a plume of red smoke rising instantly above the campfire.

For a moment no one moved. Waldemar was the first to act, drawing his rapier and looking about until he saw Carl Lang. Carl gazed around in bemusement, peering at the red smoke.

Behind him one of his guards rushed up, smothering his mouth with a cloth. Carl Lang instantly collapsed to the ground, the other guards and hunters stared in shock.

Before they could draw their weapons Solberg pounced. With a pointed short sword, he took his fellow guards by complete surprise, piercing one through the neck and rapidly disarming and killing the others.

This took all of an instant, with the element of surprise and Solberg's strength the other guards didn't stand even a shadow of a chance.

Several nearby hunters fell back in shock, not expecting the sudden violence. Waldemar watched as Carl Lang fell helplessly to the ground, not moving until he was sure that the Bishop's son was well and truly knocked out.

An ambush? Betrayal? What the hell is going on? Magnus had the urge to rush out of the formation, but held himself back. What was he to do? Rush to the defence of the Carl Lang?

"Pete Stint," Waldemar addressed the stocky hunter, holding the tip of his rapier pointed at Pete's chest. "You stand accused of collaborating with an Alchemist, aiding the tyranny and oppression against the land of Jute. The Witching Road has declared you a traitor, and the sentence is death." Waldemar spoke in a calm manner, as if the matter had been long settled.

"The Witching Road? Alchemists?" Pete spluttered. "What the devil do you . . " an image of the fat Alchemist flashed before Petes mind. "Surely not . . I did . ."

"Pete!" A hunter called out nervously.

Waldemar lunged, his rapier stabbing though Pete's leather jacket and into his heart. Pete collapsed to the ground, his face turning pale.

The hunters of the Horn were all steady men, well used to waiting long hours in ambush of powerful beasts, used to stalking through the high mountain passes. Strong and sturdy, for hunters - not warriors. They held their hunting weapons uneasily, unsure how to act.

"Pete!" An elderly hunter rushed Waldemar spear in hand, Waldemar side stepped the blow and stabbed the man in the throat.

From the forest on the other side of the stream came a series of twangs, a rain of bolts coming down on the heads of the hunters. Some of the younger hunters dashed away from the camp in a blind panic.

"All the hunters of the Horn under Pete Stint have had their final judgment." Waldemar roared, stabbing another man. "Traitors you may be, but you are men of Jute! Die with honour!"

Solberg stood his ground, taking down the hunters one by one. Between him and Waldemar it was a one sided massacre, none of the hunters could stand up to either of their might.

The hunters who'd chosen to flee, flinging down their weapons found that there was to be no escape. Before they could escape even the confines of the camp they were greeted by a second volley of crossbow bolts. Those who fled the opposite direction were greeted by another ambush, a second hidden group shooting the hunters mercilessly dead.

The stench of blood hung thick in the morning air. Magnus couldn't tell how long it had been since the first bolt and plume of red smoke had gone up, but it couldn't have been more than a matter of minutes.

Soon, the only men alive in the hunters camp the hero Waldemar, his silver armour stained with blood, the two guards, and Carl Lang snoring loudly face down in the dirt.

The Witching Road! The people Magnus had desperately sought out, here, now!

To Magnus the sight of battle wasn't anything new; he'd long been used to death and slaughter with the black skinned beasts flying into Kloster and doing battle against the giants. Though, this was certainly the first time he'd seen such a one sided fight. The hunters didn't even stand a chance, not a whisker of hope of victory or escape.

Most had fallen to bolts, shot in the back while trying to flee. Those who'd stood their ground and attacked Waldemar or Solberg were now face down in the dirt, those not already dead were bleeding out, drawing their last breaths.

From the trees came a group of armoured men and women, even from a distance Magnus could tell that there was something odd with them. As they approached he saw that almost every one of them was deformed in some way, missing arms or legs, some with their skin a strange colour or missing a nose or eye or worse.

A women with flame red hair and a hideous scar covering half her face ran up to Waldemar, saying something to him. Waldemar's eyes widened in shock, looking around at the area where Magnus had set his formation.

"Come out!" Waldemar shouted suddenly. "We know you're there!"