Free 01 - Empire in Chaos by Anthony Reynolds - (ebook by Undead) Page B

at the
brightening sky.
    “Oh?”
    “Your Empire is at war, and your people are suffering from starvation and
plague. And yet still you fight amongst yourselves. Have you no honour?”
    Grunwald thought about this for a moment and shrugged his shoulders.
“Precious little these days, seems. Still, don’t judge us all by the actions of
the weak and cowardly.”
    “I don’t understand you humans,” said Thorrik. “I’m not sure that I ever will—and I will be glad of that.”
    He stood up, and ensured that his pack was tightly secured. With dutiful
care, he tightened the leather straps that held the long, oilskin wrapped object
upon the pack, and tied his shield protectively over it.
    “What is that you carry?” asked Udo as the dwarf hefted the heavy looking
pack to his broad shoulders.
    “Never you mind,” said the dwarf brusquely, shoving his helmet over his head.
“Always wanting to know everyone else’s business, you humans,” came his voice,
muffled behind the thick metal of his helm. Udo noted that the helmet even had a
stylised metal moustache upon it. The helmet alone must have been worth a
fortune, with all the intricate, bronze-gilt knotwork around its rim, let alone
his entire set of armour.
    Udo shrugged again, and Thorrik began to walk away, each heavy footstep
leaving a deep impression in the muddy ground. He walked ten paces before he
paused and turned back towards the witch hunter.
    “Where you headed?” he said gruffly.
    “I am returning to my temple, to seek the counsel of my superior. Near Black
Fire Pass.”
    The dwarf huffed in response.
    “Well, come on then,” he said eventually. “I’m heading to Black Fire
myself.”
     
    Eldanair knelt in the undergrowth. He placed a hand to the ground, carefully
and precisely reading the sign for even a trained woodsman there would be
nothing here to see, but to the elf the ground was like an open book, and he
could read its stories effortlessly. Those that had left the tracks were not
unskilled—indeed they displayed a skill that he found surprising this far from
Ulthuan. No human could move through woodland and leave such a faint trail of
its passing, and his unease grew. This was not the mark of one of his party, and
he knew of no other Asur moving through this area, but he could not shake the
belief that this was the spoor of one of his kin. Unconsciously, he brushed a
wisp of long, dark hair behind one of his pointed ears, his eyebrows drawn
together in thought upon his ivory forehead.
    The human woman, Annaliese, stood behind him, watching him with interest. She
showed spirit, this woman, though to his eyes her movements were painfully
clumsy, slow and noisy. She had slowed his progress considerably, but he had
bound himself to see her safe. And the safest place for her now was with his
kin. The seer would know best what to do with her.
    He moved on, picking his way silently through the trees. He paused again,
touching his fingers to the cold earth. He lifted them to his nose, sniffing
delicately. His concern grew.
    These were not human tracks, he was sure of that now. Nor were they made by
any of the foul creatures that existed within the dark, foreboding forests that
engulfed the Empire.
    Urging Annaliese to hurry, he began to run lightly trough the trees. Swift
and silent, he leapt over fallen logs and ducked beneath low hanging branches,
leaving no trace of his passing. Decades earlier he had mastered the art, and he
now he did not break even single blade of grass with his soft footfalls. None
would be able to track him.
    The same could not be said for the human woman however. She crashed along
behind him, and he had to pause often so that she was not left behind. He shook
his head slightly at the noise she made as twigs and sticks cracked beneath her
heavy footfalls. He glanced back sharply, irritation and impatience flashing in
his eyes, and she looked up at him apologetically. It was unfair to blame