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

him.
“And I say again—you kill that man and you will die next. I promise you that.”
    Blinking his eyes heavily, the drunk glanced at the crowd around him. His
motives were easily read—he was gauging the crowd’s reaction, trying to judge
if they would tackle the witch hunter if things got more serious. He looked once
more at the pistol held before him, and he spat a thick ball of phlegm onto the
ground at Grunwald’s feet before sheathing his knife.
    “This ’aint over,” he snarled, and turned and stomped unsteadily away. He made
to kick the fallen man once more as he left, and smirked as the beaten man
flinched. The crowd rapidly dissipated. Grunwald was soon left alone bar the
bruised man who was thanking him through his tears. He was surprised to see the
dwarf Thorrik standing a few paces away, his axe in his hands.
    “Thought I was going to have to come to your aid this time round,” he
said, his voice grave.
    “Glad they saw sense and it was not needed,” said Grunwald darkly.
    “Bah. That manling had murder in his eyes. Though I think he saw the sense in
not arguing with a loaded gun—even if it is a shoddy weapon made by the clumsy
hands of men.”
    Grunwald snorted. “Come,” he said, as the pair walked back to the inn,
helping the wounded man inside. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
    They saw Fiedler standing in the door of the inn, wringing his hands
nervously.
    “See that this man is taken to a room and his wounds tended to. If he is not
well cared for, I will hold you personally responsible,” Udo said to him. The
barkeeper’s face was pale, but he nodded, and helped the man inside.
    “Repugnant little troll,” commented Thorrik, his face curled as if he had
stepped in something unpleasant.
    “A bit unfair, perhaps,” said Grunwald mildly. “On trolls, I mean.”
    The dwarf looked seriously at Udo for a moment before his eyes creased with
humour, and he gave a throaty chuckle.
    “Aye,” he said. “You may be right.”
    Annaliese stopped to rest for a moment, leaning her hand against a tree, her
breath ragged. Though it was freezing cold, she was sweating inside her heavy,
fur-lined coat. She stared up the steep incline to where the elf stood, his face
turned back towards her. He beckoned sharply for her to continue, and she
steeled herself for the climb.
    She had always prided herself on her physical fitness. She regularly did
fourteen-hour shifts at the Golden Wheatsheaf and was on her feet all day,
carrying trays of food back and forth from the kitchen and clearing up at the
day’s end, but she had never been more exhausted than over the past two days.
She knew the elf was frustrated at the pace they were travelling. His stamina
was astounding—she would not have been surprised if he was able to run for
days without slowing. He also moved with unnerving silence, and she had been
startled on several occasions by him appearing at her side while she thought she
had been alone.
    She had no idea where the elf was leading her, but he was insistent, and
seemed to know exactly where he was going. It seemed that he could not, or would
not, speak a word of Reikspiel, and though she had questioned him as to their
destination, silence was his only response.
    They were passing deeper into the Westenholz than Annaliese had ever
ventured, and in truth perhaps they were already beyond that wood and into
unknown territory. These woods were dangerous, a refuge for brigands, wild
beasts and worse.
    She thought back to the words of the village warden, who had said that this
elf was one of the murderers of the family on the road. Was she his captive now?
He had not bound her arms, and indeed he had saved her from the mutant back in
the village. She shivered. Everything that had happened to her seemed unreal,
like a nightmare. But it was all too real.
    For a night and a day they had been travelling together in silence, the elf’s
impatience clear on his inhuman face. Still,