Venantium de Caelis

Venantium de Caelis

James Sterling

Copyright 2014 by James Sterling

Smashwords Edition

Venantium de Caelis

Chapter One

Snow fell silently on snow, the wind swirled blowing the snow into deeper and deeper drifts, would the snow ever stop, you could see no green only white, white for as far as the eye could see white for as high as the eye could see. How he wished he could have bought the Saracen sun with him, how he wished he could have bought the hot warm land with him, but how he had hated the incessant unremitting heat, how he had hated the arid swirling dust, and how he had hated the continual senseless killing in the name of god. Senseless merciless killing in the name of the crusading god, senseless merciless killing in the name of the Saracen god, all the senseless merciless killing to rest at one door that of god, god the merciful, god the bountiful, god the all-seeing, god the demander of souls to feed his insatiable greed.

He pulled his fur around him, his mount and his pack horse were weary just as he, soon they would need to camp for the night, he had seen no signs of man nor beast, did any beast or man live in this land of snow apart for those he sensed but could not see . He carried little food for himself but his warrior packhorse carried several sacks of horse feed, oats and barley, his horses were his life, without them he could not travel, without them he could not fight, without them he would die. Night was dark, long, and cold in this white land of tall trees, at night the dark forests of tall trees came alive, at night the wily creatures who left no trace stood vigil over this white land watching from the darkness. At night, the guardian creatures the eye could not see waited but waited for what or for why he did not know.

As the snow-laden dawn broke, a piercing scream ripped him from his shivering slumber, not a human scream an angry scream of dreadful hatred, a scream he had heard similar but not the same on the Saracen battlefields of mutilated death. Quickly he made ready his armour and charger, his broadsword and mace; none would die such a fearful screaming death, no man or beast should suffer such pain. No god would he ever again serve with his sword, no kindred beast or man would fear his sword, those who would seek to lay more souls at the feet of their god would know his unrepentant vengeance for he had seen the cruelty of man who served god the demander of souls.

His white Spanish charger sped across the snow covering ground as if his hooves wore wings, no weight too heavy to carry, no distance to far to travel, onward with seraphim galloping strides. Over the brow of the snow-covered hill, the knight at a gallop viewed the scene below, six chainmail suited soldiers were beating with clubs a woman they had netted, cruelty had no place in this knights heart, he had seen much cruelty and pain administered by man in the name of the righteous god who’s will man bowed to. None glimpsed the white horse or the knight with his white shield and tabard until two of the soldier’s heads he sundered from their bodies, then with fearsome force and paramount skill the knight cleaved and killed the four remaining soldiers.

A lucky thrust mortally wounded the knight and his gallant white charger bought to the ground by a crossbow bolt. The knight with his last strength freed the struggling woman the beauty and like of which he had never seen, then the knight faded, as the blackness consumed him, soon he thought, his would be yet another soul laying at gods damnable door.

"Sir Knight you gave us all quite a scare" the very pretty, flaxen haired, young woman knelt by his side.

I thought, I thought, I was done for. The knight said slowly.

No sir knight, I was set upon by six ruffian soldiers, but I think you did kill them for their trouble for when my travelling band found us the six lay dead all cleaved asunder by your sword. She held a cup of hot broth to his lips. This will help bring you warmth; it is our broth you may think a little strange at first taste.

My horse, Valkyrie, he is dead. The knight asked troubled.

No sir knight, he did but suffer a scratch we have tended, and by chance we have found your packhorse which we have fed and watered. The flaxen haired beauty continued to feed the knight her warming broth.

I thank you and your people for your kindness, the knight said feeling warmer and stronger.

There is no need for thanks sir knight, but I fear for you, the winter will be much harsher soon and you will need shelter, and we are but humble people with few possession and sparse comforts and soon we must move on and go our separate ways. The flaxen haired young woman offered the knight another sip of warming broth.

Sir Knight six leagues west there is a castle no man have ever lived in, for none have the right to live on this land, this land has a powerful and vengeful master but it is said he grows old and would welcome a good knight to watch over the castle and this good land. She smiled down at the knight You sir knight are a good knight and the master of this land will welcome you.She spooned the knight more of her warning broth.

The Knight closed his eyes and drifted into sleep as he did so the flaxen hair beautiful young woman said softly. Sleep well sir knight, sleep safely noble one for none shall ever have passage upon this land, no man nor army shall enter this land, no man nor army shall cross this land and live, you are safe here from those who would hunt you. We your brothers and sisters will watch over you, we your brothers and sisters will protect you, you and your descendants will be as one with us, you are now of our people for evermore.

When the knight awoke, no flaxen haired beauty could he see or her people, his horse stood patiently waiting, as did his packhorse. Six leagues West the knight travelled in vagueness remembering the words of the young woman. As the day wore on, he travelled along a track that passed through a forest of tall snow laden Pine trees, then up a hill, on cresting the hill he looked down into a valley through which an ice-crusted river coursed its way between snow-covered banks.

A stone bridge spanned the river giving access to a track which climbed into a dense wood from which smoke rose into the leaden sky, the knight was hesitant would the fire from which the smoke rose be welcoming or would it be hostile. Down into the valley, over the stone bridge, and up the gentle rising incline into the wood he vigilantly made his way, there masked, all but hidden by the trees, his eyes glimpsed the stonewalls of a castle, approaching the castle he became more wary expecting to be struck by a bolt fired from the wall, none came. Entering without hindrance by way of the open gates, at first glance he could see no sign of life, the castle appeared well cared for, no decay crumbled its walls, nor did rambling vines hood its doors or windows.

Dismounting with a light agile suppleness, he placed one hand on his sword with the other he stroked Valkyrie’s thick powerful neck to settle him. He moved to his black packhorse Valravn, Valravn was far more than a packhorse he was a bold fearless warrior horse bigger built than Valkyrie, but not as quick or as agile and not as comfortable to ride. Valravn would plunge into a fray stamping and kicking he had even been known to bite the face of an enemy clean off, his weight, and his height were a fearsome sight riding into battle, the knight rubbed Valravn’s thick muscled neck pushing hard against him, Valravn gave a gentle whinny of pleasure and stamped his hoof.

The knight laughed softly No my fine fellow there is no war for us to fight this day.

Staring thoughtfully at Valkyrie for a moment, the knight then walked up to him and closely inspected his head, there was no mark he could see, he must have been mistaken, as the flaxen haired young woman had said. How could it be, he had been sure a crossbow bolt had hit Valkyrie in the head, just as he had been sure a soldier had run him through with a sword when he had slipped in the snow, he shook his head, he must have been mistaken. One thing he would remember in future was to make sure he put Valkyrie’s armour on and not be so lazy, or in such a rush.

Leaving Valkyrie and Valravn the knight made his way towards a sturdy iron studded oak door, which gave entrance to the building from where three plumes of smoke rose from chimneys into the snow laden grey sky. He hammered on the door, but there was no answer, he hammered again, and then waited, there was still no answer, looking around he could see no sign of life, save for the rising smoke, he hammered on the door again, still no answer came. He turned the handle and pushed, the door opened silently and freely with no creaks or moans of uncared for hinges, stepping inside the knight was met by welcoming warmth and the smell of roasting meat, quickly, he closed the door behind him, and looked around the large hall.

Huge log fires burned at each end of the hall and one burned in the centre giving out heat in all directions, this fire drew his attention the most and his mouth watered, meat roasted on a spit underneath a metal hood that climbed its way to the roof. He walked over to the spit and stared at the meat longingly, he shook his head, but the meat was not his to take, squatting down he warmed his hands in the heat of the fire. He had been cold for days and days, closing his eyes he let the heat wash over his face, a small thing but to him the fire and warm were all the riches he desired.

Rubbing his face with his warm hands, he yawned, then, he stood, while he would have liked to sit by the fire all night he had to settle Valkyrie and Valravn. They needed food and shelter more than he did, they were his responsibility, in weather like this they relied on him for their wellbeing, just as in battle he relied on them for their nobility and courage. Glancing longingly at the roasting meat he then turned on his heel and came face to face with a greying man of similar size and stature as himself, he took a sharp breath and his right hand grasped the hilt of his sword.

How this man could have crept up on him without a sound, he had no idea, was he so worn out with his days of travel his senses no longer functioned, as they should, the greying man stared at him there was no malice in his unusual eyes of slate grey and mellow amber. He relaxed the grip on his sword, but before doing so he shot a quick glance around the hall seeking for others who may mean him harm, he could see no other. The greying man smiled, his smile was friendly and welcoming, in smiling, the greying man exposed his perfect white teeth, and his eyes shone reflecting the fire glow.

Sir Knight, we have been expecting you. The greying man said softly accompanying his words with a slight bow. My name is Rohling and I am guardian of Schloss Schwarzer Wolf.

My apologies Rohling for entering without invitation but I did hammer on the door but could make no one hear my hammering, the knight said apologetically not removing his gaze from Rohling’s face.

There is no need for apology sir knight, we have been expecting you. Rohling smiled.

The knight did not wish to pry and ask how Rohling had been expecting him; perhaps he would ask later if there was a later, but for now, he needed to tend to Valkyrie and Valravn. It is good to meet you Rohling but I must tend my horses the night is growing colder and I’m sure by now their bellies are rumbling. He gave a short laugh worse than mine I expect.

As you wish sir knight, but your horses Valkyrie and Valravn are being cared for, all the same I shall take you to their stables, so you can see their needs are being attended to. Rohling held his head on one side his mysterious eyes studying the knights face. If you would follow me sir knight I shall take you to them. Rohling turned and led the way out of the hall.

Outside heavy thick flakes of snow were falling; fortunately, there was no wind just the stillness of the silent falling snow that crunched underfoot as Rohling and the knight made their way across the battlement encircled castle courtyard. Glancing up at the high castellated fortification the knight noticed sentries part hidden by the shrouding snow to his eyes they appeared to be strangely spectral. He was sure there had been no sentries on the ramparts when he had arrived, but then he had been tired and cold when he had first arrived perhaps he had not noticed the sentries.

Slipping and sliding the knight found it difficult to keep up with Rohling as he moved with sure-footed stealth over the snow covered ground, his tread never slipping, his pace never faltering, underneath a high stone arch they made their way into another courtyard where two guards snapped to attention. Rohling opened the door to a building and stepped inside, the knight followed the welcoming warmth instantly washed over him, he quickly scanned the building a long line of twenty large stables ran its length, at the end they had entered a blacksmiths forge burnt. At the forge bent over an anvil stood a strong ox of a man, who was busily fashioning a piece of red-hot steel into something the knight knew not.

Four other strong looking yet lithesome men worked along the line of stables, Rohling acknowledged the blacksmith with an almost indiscernible nod of his head; the smithy stopped his work and walked over to meet them. The knight could not help noticing despite the obvious bulk and muscle of the smithy he moved with an agile grace that belied his stature.

Stammig, our guest has come to see how his horses fare. Rohling said good-naturedly.

Fine horses sir knight. Stammig gave a broad smile showing his perfect white teeth. Both so different, Valkyrie as white as snow with wings for legs that carry him and his calm fearless bold collected nature as fast as the wind, and then Valravn blacker than a ravens wing with fire in his hooves and breath of flames, stalwart and strong and full of courage, truly horses to be proud of sir knight. Stammig grinned, Let me take you to them

Stammig and Rohling made their way to the first stables in the line of twenty the knight following behind, in the first stable stood Valkyrie, his coat as white as snow, he was brushed to a shine groomed to a high perfection his hooves were oiled, his mane and tail washed and dried. He had feed aplenty and water, he took little notice of his master except for a quiet whinny; he then snorted and shook his head, and put his head back into the feed bucket. Valravn looked up from his bucket he had fared the same as Valkyrie his coat shone his mane and tail washed and dried glowed with a deep shinning blackness, he snorted and ripped at the hay in the stables rack.

Wondering what to, the knight stood silent; he had no money to pay for such labours or stabling, in fact after speaking his mind and then refusing to kill more souls in the name of the Christian god he had little of anything, except for the price the religious crusading masters had put on his head. His own lands, small though they may have been, were now forfeit for his defiance of both the Templar knights and his so called Holiness the Pope the leader of the Christian faith the religious ruler of all Christendom, what would become of him he did not know. All he knew was those who served the Christian god wanted his head; he had refused to butcher defenceless infidel women and children, he had not considered them infidels they were different people with different beliefs and a different god, a god they also found necessary to kill in the name of.

He turned to Rohling Sir I have no money with which to pay for such services of excellence.

Rohling smiled his perfect white toothed smile his grey eyes glinted with mellow amber Kurt Richter once knight of the Teuton Order if you were to have money it could not be spent here in the Land des schwarzen Wolfs. Rohling glanced at Stammig, You are welcome in this land for as long as you wish to stay our master has decreed it thus, our master is in need of a strong right arm with which to carry this lands banner forth, a just and honest right arm that will not bring shame upon this land. Rohling silently watched the knight, he knew the knight would be unaware of the change in his body; the next few months would be difficult ones for the knight and he would need the support of those of the Black Wolf

With a thoughtful frown on his face, the knight asked. You seem to know much of me Rohling but I little of you, will I meet your master, my benefactor. How does your master know whether or not I have a just and honest right arm and how would he know that I would not bring shame upon this land for I have already brought shame upon my own name.

We know much of you Kurt Richter, and what we hear of you is good and honourable, you are known for your kindness to all creatures, equally as you are known for your prowess on the field of battle. You have brought no shame upon your name, only those steeped in the hypocrisy of religious butchery could call you traitor. Rohling spoke his words softly, and then he held his head on one side as if listening to something far away.

Rohling I am a man without religion, I cannot believe in a god or a son of god that permits such butchery in his name, your master may not wish for someone as godless as I to carry this lands banner. Richter said with a forceful tone in his voice feeling unworthy of such gracious hospitality.

Rohling gave a white toothy grin that Richter thought strangely resembled a snarl Then you are in good company here sir knight.Rohling began to turn towards the door Come Kurt Richter, food is ready, and others with rumbling bellies who call this land home await our arrival before they can feast.

Chapter Two

Kurt Richter felt uncomfortable, seated where Rohling had paced him at the head of the long table, thirty faces turned to him, all seemed blessed with the same welcoming white toothed smile, and Richter with a peculiar acceptance felt instantly at home in the assembled groups company. Rohling introduce him to everyone, but there were too many names for him to remember. Then Rohling proposed a toast to welcome him, which all drank in the castles own Mead, which to Richter’s senses had a kick like a double barrel from Valravn’s powerful hindquarters.

Those assembled at the table, Richter noticed, all wore a particularly fine and well-made tabard its colour was white edged in black, sewn with golden thread, covering the wearers heart embroidered in the finest treads of gold, silver, and black, a black wolfs head lay as if protecting the wearer from a mortal blow. To adorn his knights in such garments the master of this land of the Black Wolf obviously is man of wealth, Richter thought, then Richter turned his attention to Rohling who sat to his right,

Are these the knights who guard this land? Richter asked Rohling.

Rohling nodded with a smile These knights assembled here are each the commanders of many.Rohling engaged Richter’s eyes Tomorrow when you have rested we will show you more and you will see you are among skilful brothers.

Brother Richter you found the crusade not to your liking it is told.The question came from the knight sitting to Richter’s left; Gnadenlos was his name Kurt was sure of that, he had fair hair, handsome features and was strongly built, his most striking feature was his eyes they were blue grey and like Rohling’s eyes they appeared to flash with amber. Their colour was not the intriguing or striking feature it was the seeking alertness as if Gnadenlos could see the wings on a fly as it flew through the air.

No, not to my liking, I do not have the stomach for senseless butchery; neither could I find parity with a religion that can countenance the slaying of defenceless women and children. Richter swigged his mead and shook his head senseless.

Gnadenlos and Rohling nodded their understanding and each took a swig of mead, it had not escaped Richter’s eyes the mead jugs and calices were of solid engraved silver, the engraving that of a wolf and knight of the Black Wolf order entwined another testament to the wealth of the master of this land.

I hear Brother Richter you did cleave and put to death six hunters of the dark order who plague lands far and wide spreading or forcing their doctrine on others. Gnadenlos said putting Richter’s face under friendly yet seeking scrutiny, not an easy task if you are unprepared, they are as fearless as they are loathsome and should not have been on this land of the Black Wolf our patrols must have somehow missed them.

I fear they would have done for me if it had not been for some travellers who came upon me, and I have no idea of what befell the creature I saved Richter hesitated for a moment as if lost in thought. Although the girl who tended to me did say it was her that I saved I am still not sure it is so.

A question for another day perhaps, Rohling ventured, Is the food to your taste brother Richter. Rohling asked genially changing the direction of the conversation.

Very much so, brother Rohling Richter answered freely, realising the word brother had flowed for his tongue naturally and as if he had known Rohling all his life.

Rohling suddenly turned his attention to the door that gave access to the hall from the castle, moments later the door opened and two knights entered, their capes and tabards bore the wolfs head, their chainmail glistened shimmering silver, and they wore a grave and serious expression. Their eyes met Rohling slate grey eyes; they nodded and then advanced towards Rohling who had begun to stand.

Brother Rohling the two knights acknowledged Rohling with a dutiful bow An army of the dark ones a thousand strong has crossed into the Black Wolf land to the east.

Mörderin’s territory she will need no help to defeat such a small number. Rohling shot a glance at Gnadenlos, Gnadenlos stood and walked to Rohling side acknowledging the two knights with a faint but courteous bow of his head.

Gnadenlos at first light take a force of one hundred Venantium and ride east, your fine senses will tell you what to do. Rohling turned and looked at Richter and then back at Gnadenlos Do you think Brother Richter is ready to witness the way in which we of the Black Wolf land deal with our enemies.

Gnadenlos licked his lip at the thought of killing dark ones at the same time he considered what to do about Kurt Richter. It was too late for Brother Richter to turn back he was now of the Black Wolf land and nothing could change that, Mörderin had saved him from death in gratitude for him saving her life, the fact was Mörderin could have easily slain her attackers but Richter had not known that. In gratitude for his selfless act, Mörderin had given Richter life, now Richter was of the Caelorum, of the Venantium and he had much to learn of their ways.

Gnadenlos wondered how Mörderin, had found herself netted by the dark ones, he really had no idea and for the moment she was not saying, although he suspected it had something to do with her vanity, for undoubtedly she held outstanding beauty, and as all beautiful women, she played on her charms. He was uncertain of what to do about Richter, was he ready to witness the way in which the army of the Black Wolf dealt with its enemies, really there was no choice soon Richter would realise he had changed, he would realise he was much, much, stronger and he had heightened senses. He would realise he could do things that as his old self he would have considered impossible, and when he met Mörderin again he would realise she was no travelling maiden.

Gnadenlos turned to Kurt Richter What say you to a fight with the dark ones Brother Richter.

Kurt Richter needed no second invitation he had seen the cruelty of the dark ones and he would take pleasure in killing more of them. I say, I shall be at your side.

***

A bustling servant woke Kurt Richter before dawn broke, surprisingly Kurt felt full of life and fit for any fight whatever the odds.

Your armour is ready sir knight, the servant said with a beaming smile leading Richter into a small room off his bedchamber.

Kurt Richter rubbed his eyes in disbelief; he had expected to see his old armour that had seen much better days, but there before his eyes stood the most outstanding work of craftsmanship he thought he had ever seen. The splendour bought tears openly to his eyes, how was it possible to make such a suit in such little time.

How is this possible in so little time? Kurt had asked the question addressing it to no one except the thin air, but the servant assumed Richter had asked the question of him.

Sir Knight, we have many armourers here at the castle and they have used your old suit for measurements and fitting. The many armourers have worked since the moment you arrived here, the tailors, and embroiderers have worked all night through to finish their task. The servant cocked his head on one side Sir Knight, we must make hast, the horses are near ready

Once suited Richter marvelled at the lightness of the armour, it seemed as if it was as supple as a second skin, filigree work in silver and gold of a wolf’s head stared out from the breastplate. The helmet was the fiercest Richter had ever seen, when the visor was closed the helmet took on the shape of a snarling wolfs head with a strong jaw and silver glinting teeth. His sword was new and that had worried him but there had been no need for worry the weight was perfect and he could wield it better than his old one, the hilt was bound in silver and gold wire with a single blue sapphire inlayed at the hilts end.

When Kurt Richter stepped out into the courtyard, he felt like a king, but the sight that met his eyes made the blood rush to his head with pride to be part of the army of the Black Wolf. Gnadenlos smiled down from his mount, a pure white horse with a long mane and tail, standing sixteen three hands high with a thick muscled neck and wide breast, the horse peered down proudly his ears pricked as he waited patiently. Richter had not noticed with his own helmet, but with the visor up the helmet gave the appearance of a wolf baying at the moon, Valkyrie stood at Gnadenlos side he whinnied at the sight of his master and stamped an excited hoof, mounting Richter found he could not suppress a wide grin as he looked at Gnadenlos.

We must make hast, otherwise Mörderin will leave little for us to battle with. Gnadenlos laughed and turned his mount Come Sternenlicht you must have wings for legs this day.

Riding from the castle Richter was unable to suppress the elated feeling that swept over him as the knights, and horsemen fell into column behind Gnadenlos and he, the Black Wolf flags gently fluttered, and the faint clink of metal against metal seemed to beat out a marching rhythm. Despite the snow-covered ground the column made good progress, Gnadenlos told him that if they kept to this pace through the night then they should arrive at their destination by noon tomorrow. Richter could not see how it would be possible to travel day and night without rest, surely, the horses would need respite they carried their armoured riders and their own magnificent armour the like of which he had never seen.

Surely that is not possible with the weight the horses carry, surely we will need to rest for the night. Richter said turning in his saddle to face Gnadenlos.

Holding his reins in his armoured left hand Gnadenlos turned from the waist to face Richter You have much to learn of the Black Wolf land brother Richter Gnadenlos grinned. Here we can do feats that others think impossible, that is a small part of our strength performing the impossible. Gnadenlos briefly chuckled miracles we have nearly perfected.

Gnadenlos then raised his right arm and circled his hand twice, a Knight rode to the front of the column his horse’s pace gliding featherlike over the snow, this Knight wore black and silver chainmail, black armour, black cloak, and his horse was as black as night with black armour.

Brother Scharfe-Zähne, take your night hunters and send me word of what is a head. Gnadenlos asked without command in his voice.

Scharfe-Zähne raised his right arm and from the column rode nineteen riders clothed in black on black horses. Richter watched as the two groups of ten riders disappeared into the distance their horse’s hooves never seeming to touch the snow-covered ground, their pace as if driven by a tempest wind.

Night hunters Gnadenlos commented as he watched the riders disappear into the forested distance Very skilful, very dangerous, and very, very good at what they do.

What do they do, Richter asked instantly realising how stupid the question was ‘night hunter’ explained what they did succinctly enough.

Gnadenlos looked at Richter a quizzical expression on his face Their night hunters, the clue is in their name brother Richter. Gnadenlos laughed in his normal good-natured way but still a fair question because night hunting is only part of their talent, they are unrivalled forest hunters, the darker and gloomier the forest the better they like it.

Making quick time the column progressed on its way throughout the day, night began to fall, Richter was surprised Valkyrie showed no sign of weakening or slackening his pace, indeed he was sure Valkyrie was becoming stronger the nearer they advanced on their destination. Even more surprising to Richter was that he felt as if he was becoming stronger himself, he had no aches or pains that he would usually have had through being in the saddle for such a long time. Gnadenlos held his hand up and halted the column several hundred paces before they entered the dark dense tall pine forest.

A wolf’s howl pierced the snowy silence, and then other wolves further distances away joined in the song, then silence. Gnadenlos moved forward, the column moved forward once more on their way.

Do you not fear an ambush at night in this forest? Richter asked Gnadenlos.

The wolves would not have sung if our enemy was abroad in the forest this night. Was all Gnadenlos said, before his eyes gave seeking attention to the forest track ahead.

Dawn break found the column emerging from the vast dark forest, Richter had sensed something, he knew not what, had been guarding the flanks of the column throughout the night, but as they emerged from the forest the feeling of being watched was gone. Onward and onward the column marched, Valkyrie seemed as fresh as when he had begun his march, Richter, although he did not understand why, felt stronger than he had ever done in his life, looking around at the others in the column Richter could not see the slightest sign of fatigue with any rider or horse. How it could be, he did not know, but he considered the time to ask the question was not yet at hand.

You appear lost in thought brother Richter. Gnadenlos asked with a casual air.

I am brother Gnadenlos, I am. Richter replied his thoughts still leagues away.

What troubles you, Gnadenlos asked still nonchalant.

I have no troubles, only a lack of understanding. Richter answered, unsure whether to pursue the questions that drove his lack of understanding.

Understanding comes with time brother. While casualness still showed in Gnadenlos voice, there was an undertone of seriousness.

Gnadenlos fell silent; his own thoughts while centred on the battle to come did not preclude his thoughts on Kurt Richter. Gnadenlos knew he would never really be able to understand the change Richter would go through, he as all the others was born Caelorum. Richter was the only human to have ever received the great gift of the Custos, soon if there were to be a battle, Richter would feel a blood lust the like of which would send him into a furious frenzy of killing. It was always the way with the young, and while Richter was not young, he was young to their kind.

It would be best for Richter to get the killing frenzy over with, Gnadenlos reflected, then the wisdom of the Caelorum would come and perhaps the combining of his kinds’ blood and Richter’s blood would bring forth something new, at that Gnadenlos began to think of the dark ones again. Evil, life sucking, the leaders’ of the dark ones, too frightened to fight their own battles, they had to pay armies to fight for them, they lent money to king and surf alike and when the interest could not be paid they took lands and kingdoms as their own, leaving kings as nothing more than puppets to do their bidding. It was said that even mans’ holy crusade was part of their plot to control the known world and all its riches.

Over the last one hundred years, the dark ones had many times tried to lay claim to the vast lands of the Black Wolf, not one of their armies had ever left the land. Gnadenlos shot Kurt Richter a glance, and wondered how he would cope with his new life as Caelorum a life that had many privileges and many unanswered questions.

Chapter Three

Five leagues to the east of Gnadenlos column, a skirmishing patrol numbering forty of the dark ones mercenary battalion made its way as stealthily as they could along a track, which ran through a small but dense forest, had they have known the name the Caelorum Venantium gave the forest then they may never have entered, the forest of bones. The patrol leader, known to his men as one-eye for the most obvious of reasons, thought there little chance that he would meet any opposition it appeared to him that nothing would be abroad in this weather, especially not enemy soldiers. One-eye was sick to death of listening to the grumbles of his men, soggy feet, numb hands, frozen to the bone, every complaint under the sun, mind you he did agree with them, but all the same they were still soldiers and they were being paid well, so you had to take the rough with the smooth.

Knight of the Night Hunters Scharfe-Zähne watched with humorous interest as one-eye and his patrol trudged their way along the forest track, Scharfe-Zähne lay by his horse stroking his neck as did seventeen others nine each side of the track. Shortly the mercenary patrol would hear the thunder of hooves in front of them and hooves behind them as the other two of the night hunters galloped towards them, predictably that would split the attention of the patrol and then it would be over. Scharfe-Zähne gave the signal to mount at the same time the mercenary patrol heard the galloping horses, by the time the patrol had turned this way then that the twenty black clad night hunters had cleaved, sundered, and put to death all but the leader of the patrol ‘one-eye’.

Scharfe-Zähne dismounted his snorting powerful black stallion and stood glaring threateningly at one-eye.

Chop them up and feed them to our brothers the ravens and crows.Scharfe-Zähne ordered his men without a trace of emotion.

One-eye watched in horror, dumb acceptance in his eye, as the night hunters drew sharp battle-axes’ from their saddles and swiftly began to chop his fallen comrades into small pieces. Ravens and crows squawking with delight swooped down amongst the night hunters pecking at sightless eyes and spilling brains from cleaved skulls. One-eye watched in horrified startled disbelief as one of the black clad figures ripped the arms from the sockets of one of the fallen with his black gloved hands, and then he tossed them aside like so much discarded fire wood.

This is what will happen to all those who dare to cross into this land of the Black Wolf, I will let you live to tell of what you have seen, but I warn you we give no mercy, if you stay with those of the battalion who march to their death then this is the fate that awaits you.Scharfe-Zähne waved his hand at the shredded corpses. Run tell your masters of the death that awaits them, run, and don’t look back Scharfe-Zähne urged, menace in his voice.

One-eye ran as fast as he could back down the track, he never once looked behind him and when he had told of what he had seen, he would keep running and never look back. He had been in many battles but none where forty men died so quickly put to death by half their number and then their bodies chopped into bits and fed to the crows. One blow from the shinning swords of the black clad soldiers was all it had taken to split a man in two, how was that possible he didn’t know, and he didn’t intend to stay and find out.

Scharfe-Zähne grinned at his night hunters, they all looked happy with themselves and with just cause, a very small victory, never the less a pleasing one, and one that would feed the birds, foxes, and beasts of the forest in this inclement weather.

"Come we ride."Scharfe-Zähne hoisted his muscled agile frame into his saddle Onward my fine boy we have heads to break Scharfe-Zähne cooed in a soft husky voice to Nachtsturm his black stallion.

The night hunters swiftly rode from the forest their long black cloaks buffeted by the wind of their progress.

***

Mörderin’s sharp sapphire blue eyes blazed with a glowing amber hatred as she watched the distant marching column of mercenaries from her high vantage point, a low growling grumble toned her words as she spoke, The beasts of the forests will feast well this night. She turned to face Metzger a brother of the knighthood We are ready to attack Mörderin queried the growling tone in her voice still prominent.

"At your command Mörderin" Metzger replied with sufficient humility to reinforce Mörderin’s superiority, she had been in the vilest of vicious bitch moods ever since she had arrived back from her encounter with the soldiers of the dark ones, whether they had been the dark ones hunters no longer mattered. What did matter was how the hunters had evaded detection; someone had been negligent in their post and no mistake, woe betides them when Mörderin found out who the culprits were. A slight grin tugged at the corners of Metzger’s mouth, what a shock the hunters must have had one minute they are trying to have their way with a beautiful woman the next moment they are having their veins ripped at by a very ferocious and not well-disposed creature the like of which they had never seen.

Still all was well that ended well, Metzger supposed, although the incident might not have ended well for the stranger to their land the knight called Kurt Richter. They had known the knight had crossed into black wolf land days before, but as with other innocent travellers who offered no harm, they left him alone to cross their land in peace. Fortunate indeed, for Kurt Richter that Mörderin had spotted the dark ones lying in wait for him. Richter the noble and just knight of high principle had misunderstood the situation and dashed to the aid of a maiden he thought not capable of defending herself, or the beating of a trapped creature, fortunate indeed for none other than Mörderin could have saved his life.

Metzger shot Mörderin a cautious sideways glance, the hate in her expression appeared as if set in granite all but concealing her beauty, her eyes blazed with a fury as she ran her tongue over her moist exquisitely shaped lips. She then did as she always did when she anticipated the kill she ground her teeth together and then ran her tongue over them as if inspecting their sharpness, satisfied she turned to him.

Dead all of them Mörderin turned her horse in readiness to ride down from the mountain Dead all of them Metzger, do you hear.

Metzger frowned questioningly his thick bushy silver eyebrows hooding his eyes. Have any of our enemies ever lived to leave this land. He turned his mount ready to follow Mörderin.

At the base of the mountain shielded from the open plain and forests Mörderin and Metzger re-joined the Black Wolf mounted force of four hundred

Why bring so many to deal with so few. Metzger asked Mörderin.

Because I want them dead, and I want them dead quickly Mörderin snapped scathingly a husky growl toned her voice.

Metzger decided wisely to ask no more questions, it would be more prudent to carry out orders than it would be to prod Mörderin further.

Mörderin beckoned two other knights, Knurren who wore the black, gold and silver colours of the night hunter and Schredder who wore the gold, silver and grey mist colours of the dawn hunter, both knights bowed slightly acknowledging Mörderin.

We will attack this rabble from four directions, Knurren you will take your night hunters and attack from the forest on their left flank, you will need to make hast to be in place on time, Schredder you will take your dawn hunters and attack their right flank. Metzger you will attack their rear with your mountain hunters and I will attack them head on with our young storm hunters.Mörderin glanced at her knights she knew them all to be brutally courageous, loyalty was a question never considered amongst the breed they were all of one kind and could only ever rely on one another Any questions Mörderin asked making a conscious effort to soften the harshness in her voice.

Metzger, Knurren, and Schredder all shook their heads answering with a ‘no’.

Good, then to battle.Mörderin strode purposefully towards her horse the saliva in her mouth building drenching her teeth and gums with the most sharply exquisite cleansing taste. The thought of killing the dark ones soldiers heightened all her senses, none more so than the sublime intoxicating feeling she exulted in when she ripped off the head of an enemy the hot blood gushing everywhere. She swallowed deeply but that did not stop the saliva building, she wished she could find a suitable replacement for the feeling of killing the humans.

Perhaps you are not supposed to enjoy killing humans, Mörderin thought with a touch of irony, considering the thousands the Venantium had killed over the centuries. Mörderin mounted her horse, if Rohling ever found out her weakness he would chastise her with scathing ferocity, and he would point out how badly she let the memory of her parents down, she swallowed deeply again, she would have to find a substitute. Mörderin surveyed her troops she was very proud of her young storm hunters, the gold, silver, and red of their colours stood out against the snow like a blood red rolling tide. At the head of her storm hunters Mörderin gave the command to advance.

*

Gnadenlos brought the column to a halt at the edge of the forest of bones, his keen eyes not only observed the advancing battalion of mercenaries