060 - The Great Hunt

Magnus looked out silently from within the formation. It was obvious that Waldemar was talking to him . . hells, he was looking right at him! How did they know? If . . if those people had been there when he'd set the formation yesterday . . they must have been waiting in ambush all this time, spotted him coming into the field and vanishing the night before.

How careless! How bloody careless could you be Magnus! Dammit all. What now? I could snatch up the stones . . run to the trees before they catch me, surely they couldn't catch me. But . . the Witching Road, right? Waldemar, the whole group of scarred freaks . . these were the Witching Road?

Magnus looked over the field of corpses . . . run away . . are they not who I've been looking for? The people who fight against the Alchemists?

". . ." Waldemar glared at the empty spot between his carriage and the horses. "Are you sure?" He asked the scarred red haired woman. "I don't see . . !"

Where there was nothing there was now Magnus. Waldemar's eyes widened in shock, his hand flying to the rapier at his waist. Even the other members of the Witching Road who'd witnessed Magnus vanish the previous day stared incredulously.

There had been nothing, just a patch of grass and dirt . . and suddenly there he was! A normal looking youth, light brown hair and a ruddy complexion looking back out at them.

"Sourcery!" Oskar exclaimed, his voice cracking.

"Impossible! He . . invisibility?" Waldemar stared slack jawed at Magnus.

Magnus said nothing in return, watching them all and tensing, ready to run at the first sign of trouble.

"You . . you must be Dolt, correct?" Finally Waldemar managed to find his tongue.

Magnus shook his head. "Not Dolt. Call me . . Lars. I'm Lars." Much better than Dolt. Magnus didn't feel it much safe to be giving out his real name, not even to the Witching Road. The Alchemist had known his name . . better to keep it secret for now.

"Lars." Waldemar repeated. "Greeting Lars, I am Waldemar of Jute, son of General Sten. This is Petra."

The red headed women nodded to Magnus.

". . ."

"Ahem." Waldemar coughed politely, "as you must have heard me declare, we are from the Witching Road. You know of us?"

"I know." Magnus replied. "The Witching Road. You fight the Alchemists."

"Right! And . . by your inaction . . I can assume that you are . ."

Magnus nodded. "I too have a . . grievance with the Alchemists."

Waldemars eyes shone. "Ah! Right! That's good to hear Lars! Very good!" He relaxed, smile warmly at Magnus. "Lars, my friend! We, all of us of the Witching Road have a grievance against the Alchemists. Petra here . . as you can see . ."

Petra moved lifted her face, drawing back her hair and showing Magnus the horrific scar that ran all the way down the nape of her neck, vanishing beneath her chest.

"We have all suffered at the hands of the Alchemists." Petra said, "and now we fight against them."

"Ah-ha! Right!" Waldemar laughed, placing a hand on Petras shoulder.

Of the members of the Witching Road that had lain in ambush more than half had some visible deformity.

There existed an uneasy tension between them, standing over the corpses of the hunters. Waldemar and Petra examined Magnus, and he stared silently back. Neither seemed too sure how to proceed.

"Ahem." Waldemar coughed once more. "Lars, if I may be so bold . . you saw us take action against these hunters. They stood together with the Alchemists, collaborators and traitors to Jute!" Waldemar spat on a hunter's corpse. "They are a poison, a malevolent blight our land. You . . Lars, you are from Jute?"

"I am."

"Very good! I know your pain, your suffering. We all do! Lars, I ask not what the Alchemists have done to you . . we are all of one mind, of one spirit! Lars, I will only ask you this; are you willing to stand at our side? Be a brother in arms, one of the many who fights back against the tyranny of Alchemy!"

"Fight!" A roar went up amongst the members of the Witching Road. "Fight! Down with Alchemy!"

Waldemar was inviting him to the Witching Road? Magnus frowned. He had walked so long, come so far searching for them . . and here they were. Fight against the Alchemists? Ah hells . . Kujata said . . she said that the Alchemists were high above, in their towers . . the hunters were collaborators? He'd seen them with the fat Alchemists . . but . .

Waldemar looked at Magnus expectantly, the members of the Witching Road all fell to muttering, their eyes never leaving the figure of the youth. Magnus felt as if they were trying to look right through him, size him up. Finally, after several moments more of uneasy silence Magnus spoke.

"I am willing."

"He is willing?" Solberg suddenly snarled, a scowl on his face. "Waldemar, come now! What the devil do you know of this lad? Even if he is willing, who the hells knows who he is?"

"Solberg is right." Petra nodded. "You are being rash Waldemar. Who knows who this youth is . . we cannot trust him."

"Friends!" Waldemar raised his voice. "Friends, Lars here is obviously one of us . . can you not see? My eyes, my judgement of character has never failed me. Were any of you ever questioned about your hatred of Alchemists? Petra? Solberg? No! The Witching Road has always welcomed all comrades, all those willing to stand and fight."

"Fight! Fight!"

Petra and Solberg fell silent in their dissent. Waldemar smiled once more at Magnus, approaching him carefully, his hands well away from the rapier at his side.

"Lars, I welcome you to the Witching Road. This is . . not the best of circumstance, but you have borne witness to who we are, what we are willing to do in the fight against tyranny."

"Waldemar, what about Carl here? You want me to slit his throat?" Solberg asked.

"No! For heaven's sakes, no! Right . . . you and Oskar put him in my carriage, don't injure him for heaven's sake! The Bishop Lang must see his son returned in good order, make sure of that."

Solberg and Oskar dragged Carl to the carriage. Petra and the other members of the Witching Road began to root around the dead hunters, taking their rings and cutting off their coin purses.

Waldemar gave a few orders here or there, all the while keeping an eye on Magnus.

Magnus mind raced a mile a minute. What do I do now? Hells . . I said yes . . what will Kujata say? I came to hunt the bull . . how the hells can I follow the hunters now?

"Lars, my friend," Waldemar walked right up to Magnus. "You will come with us back to Juteheim?" Magnus noticed that Waldemar kept looking over at the spot where he'd been hidden, trying to see if there was anything on the ground.

Up close Magnus saw that Waldemar was a head a half taller than himself, his figure slim but muscular, not the body of an idle noble at all - the son of a real general!

"Not at this time." Magnus replied. Keep it short, don't say too much, the less I say the better. I need to go back to Kujata, ask her what I ought to do . . ask her . .

Is that right? I need to ask Kujata what to do? Ah hells Magnus . . yeah, what do you want to do?

"No? Well, take this - " Waldemar handed over a stone token with the imprint of a closed fist. "This is a mark of the Witching Road. It marks you as one of us. When you are able, come join us in Juteheim!" Waldemar nodded decisively, placing the stone token in Magnus hands.

Magnus met his gaze. Waldemars stared unflinchingly down at him, making Magnus feel a little uncomfortable.

Either way, I can't just throw myself into this . . not without thinking about it . . and . . and I've already let myself be seen coming in and out of the formation . . ah hells. Kujata won't be happy about that . .

Muttering to himself, Magnus took a step back and vanished entirely. Waldemar opened his eyes in shock, he too took a step forwards . . and another . . right past the space where Magnus had stood, right through the very spot he had vanished.

"Ah ha! Ha! Incredible!" Waldemar waved his hands around, looking around the whole area next to his silver carriage. Incredible! Not a thing! Not a trace! You see that Petra?"