The Witch Hunters, Book 1: The Prophet of Ash

The world was full of pain, and light, when Kurt finally came to. The curtains were flung wide, revealing the tops of some nearby buildings and a burning, unforgiving orb of flame that was beginning its inexorable ascent.

Kurt looked away and moaned. He felt as if his skull had shrunk several sizes during the night. He made to cover his aching eyes with his arm, but found he could not move. Panic gripped him for an instant, followed by adrenaline that woke him up, and brought back memories of the night before. Looking at the ludicrously decorated headboard, he saw his wrists were still tied quite securely in place with strong, brightly coloured ribbons. It was impossible to tell what condition his feet were in, as his belly obstructed the view, but a few half-hearted tugs told Kurt he was probably not going anywhere soon. His brief assessment of his condition revealed further that he was lying on top of the sheets and was quite, quite naked. Feeling his heart rate rising just a little, Kurt looked around as much of the room as he could. The girls were gone, and they'd left the door to the room open when they abandoned him. Kurt shut his eyes and cursed quietly to himself. Was that the hall beyond, or another room where the ladies might have gone? His head throbbed again, and Kurt groaned in pain and frustration. His mouth felt as if it were full of cotton, and it was difficult to force any moisture into it for him to call for assistance. The idea was not appealing, but he needed to get untied, and to get a drink to help numb the awful pain of the morning. His tongue made a sickening noise as he pulled it away from the top of his mouth, and coughed, rather than called for help.

Nothing happened. There was not a stirring in the house anywhere that Kurt was aware of. He pressed the back of his head against his pillow, and cursed himself and his weakness. Why had he followed those boys here? Was this one of those fake brothels he had heard of, the sort that robbed their clients blind after plying them with drink and tying them up? Kurt thought of having to explain all this to the city guard, and realised at once it would never come to that. He would rather die. What if Martin heard? What would he think of his father, if this came out? Thoughts of his son inevitably drew Sabine in as well. Kurt didn’t want to think of her just then, or what she would think of him if she could see him now. It left him feeling old, and sick. Kurt closed his eyes, felt the heat rise with the shame, and the tears that rolled unbidden down his cheeks. He wanted them to stop, but too much came rushing upon him too fast. He tried to cry softly, so that no one might hear him, or come in and see him like this. His clothes were gone, and all the money too, he was certain of that. The stone. The memory of it sparked something desperate in Kurt then. It had been in his hand the night before. He remembered squeezing it in his pocket in between drinks and songs and young girls laughing on his lap. It was gone now too, taken from him, just like his dreams. Just like Sabine.

“Hello?”

For an instant, Kurt felt certain his heart had stopped. The voice had come from the doorway, and definitely did not belong to one of the girls from the night before. He pulled his head up as best he could, looked at the vacant space, and thoughts of rescue swiftly became a prayer to be left alone. Naturally, the Almighty was as disinclined to answer this particular prayer as any of the others Kurt had said before He took Sabine away.

“What’s going on here, then?” asked Theo. He sauntered into the room, gently closing the door behind him after a quick look around. The minotaur walked over to the side of the bed and took in all of Kurt and his predicament. He was fully dressed, damn him, and smiling in a strange way that left the human feeling a little uncomfortable. Admittedly, Kurt was unsure what the protocol on something like this was, but if it were him, he hoped he would just focus on looking at the other man’s face. Theo was doing no such thing, his attentions taken up instead by the helpless human’s middle, and below.

“Forget to tip?” Theo asked.

“I don’t know where they’ve gone,” Kurt groaned, the pain in his head returning. “Please, will you untie me?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a happy ending to this mishap, first?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Never mind,” Theo said then, moving quickly to the foot of the bed. After he’d untied Kurt’s ankles, he pulled a blanket up to Kurt’s hips, before undoing his wrists.

“Thank you.”

“You need a drink, or anything?” the minotaur asked then, a look of growing concern on his face. “You don’t look so good.”

Kurt didn’t answer. He sat up, pulled the blanket up to his chest, and hugged it, for lack of anything else to do with his arms. The bed creaked, and dipped a little to the side, as Theo sat on the edge of it.

“Are you all right?”

“Thank you for your help,” Kurt heard himself say, wishing desperately for the strange male to go away then. Theo didn’t seem to notice the tone, or just didn’t care.

“You’re welcome.”

There was silence then. Kurt hated it. The humiliation was making him feel sick, and Theo’s presence was only making it feel worse. The urge to say something rude to the minotaur was powerful, but memories of Sabine came back, and stilled his anger.

“Where are all your friends?” Kurt asked, trying to fill the air.

Theo shrugged. “All still passed out, or getting on top of some fresh girls. I’m bored, and hungry. Would you like to have breakfast with me? I don’t like eating on my own.”

Kurt was surprised at this. He looked about the room quickly, as if it might provide him with an excuse. He wanted to say that his clothes were gone, but he spotted a boot and his trousers on the floor. Everything else was probably nearby. That said, though…

“I don’t know if I have any money left.”

Theo reached behind him, towards the night stand. He picked up Kurt’s purse, which looked rather deflated now. It still jingled, though fainter than the man remembered.

“Don’t worry about it,” the minotaur said. His smile remained, though it took on a subtle, almost pleading aspect. “I think I’ve still got some of your money spare to feed the pair of us.”

Kurt wanted to look away just then. This strange fellow was being friendly, and had just gotten him out of an awkward predicament. Yet there was some part inside the man that hated Theo for this, and wanted to push him as far away as he could. This had happened often before. Once, Kurt had many friends. He had kept most once he and Sabine came together, but after she was gone, he drove them all off, one by one. He was so sick and tired of being lonely.

*

“So, jam? Really?”

Kurt nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed. They had moved to the inn beside the brothel, where they found a number of girls and some of their clients already getting breakfast. The autumnal sunlight had stung Kurt’s eyes, and fuelled the agonising shrinking of his skull, but thankfully the bar was dimly lit, and the smell of food being fried eased some of the anxiety and nausea he felt.

“Any chance the stuff I ordered comes from your family?”

“It’s possible,” Kurt said with a half-hearted nod. He sipped the big stein full of steaming black coffee. They had been waiting for food for a while now, though that was Theo’s fault. “If you ever want to see how jam’s made, you’re welcome to come see us. I could have Bader give you a tour of the whole place.”

“I doubt I would have the head for it,” Theo laughed.

“That’s what I thought. Sabine, my late wife, came up with the idea. We had to learn everything as we went along. The whole process is not nearly as complicated as you might think. It’s just requires a bit of labour, time, and a lot of patience.”

“You must be damned good at it.”

“I guess we are,” Kurt said, nodding. Theo had a point. Along with the sales at the Great Market, the jam they made was exported down the river by dwarven merchants on their clunky vessels. They took orders from the Crown on a monthly basis. The King apparently couldn’t get enough of their raspberry product with his breakfast and supper, and that meant Kurt’s business took orders from quite a few of the noble houses too. He and Sabine had created a thriving business...so why was he so embarrassed, ashamed one might even say, to tell people what he did?

Breakfast finally arrived, brought over by a pair of servers and one of the cooks. There was a rack of nearly twenty pieces of toast, a small mixed stack of plain and fruit scones, two large bowls of porridge with dried fruits and nuts, some honey, and servings of three different jams Kurt immediately recognised as his company’s blueberry, strawberry and peach spreads. Along with all that came two plates of fried eggs, hash browns, and slabs of bacon, a tankard of chilled orange juice, another of milk, and another vat of coffee. Kurt stared at it all with wide, horrified eyes.

“What?” Theo laughed. “This not enough for you? You want my share?”

“What?! No! It’s just…I can’t…”

“Oh come along Kurt, you look like a fellow that’s got a healthy appetite. You don’t want all this good food to go to waste, do you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Have you got somewhere else to be, then?” Theo asked. He was still smiling, but there was a flicker across his demeanour that, for some reason, Kurt wanted to accommodate. Despite his obvious wealth and success, there was a strange kind of pleading in Theo’s smile that bade Kurt stay, and give the minotaur a little more of his time. Really, what else was he going to do? Where had he to go with any kind of urgency? The business didn’t need his attention, and hadn’t for at least the last few months. Martin didn’t need him. That much was for certain.

“No. Thank you, Theo. Of course I’ll stay, and I’ll eat you under the table!”

“You’re on!” Laughed the minotaur.

*

Kurt felt ill and unsteady on his feet, but Theo was kind enough to help him along as they walked. They had spent the morning together talking over the massive breakfast the minotaur had bought them. Kurt had eaten more than he had in years in one sitting, and while his stomach was doing its best to make him sorry for this, he had spent the last couple of hours smiling and laughing, so he didn’t mind all that much. They were on their way back to the inn where Kurt had paid for a room he'd never used. It shouldn’t have taken long to get there, but the human was still desperately hung over, and the minotaur steered them into establishments for a drink or two along the way. Kurt hadn’t felt this free in a long time, so he didn’t mind the delay. Being around Theo made him feel younger, and more vigorous than he had felt since Sabine had died. He was surprised that the minotaur would give the time of day to someone like him. Kurt had heard rumours before the bout he had seen Theo fight last night, that this fellow was a witch hunter. Kurt had dismissed it immediately. What kind of defender of the realm got into bare knuckle boxing tournaments?

“A bored one,” Theo explained when asked. “I took my final oath a few years ago. I never met a witch when I was out ranging with Dietrich. He trained me, and inducted me. Damned good fellow. At any rate, when I first got made a full and proper hunter, I travelled from one end of the land to the other, and back again. Not just Sturmwatch, Kurt. I went all along the coast, down into the dwarf lands, beyond further where the scaled lived, both races. I was in The Hold for a little while. I travelled along some of the old Elven canals the dwarves use; nearly got nabbed by some pirates there, actually. Then, I came back here again. That trip took me maybe a year and a half. You know how many witches I met during that whole trip?”

Kurt shook his head, staring up at Theo in quiet wonder.

“Not one. I heard rumours, of course, and I chased every one of them. But it was nothing. Some crazy old hags that stupid girls went to, looking for potions to make their men folk love them. Or conmen. There were a lot conmen, but they dropped the act as soon they saw my star.”

“Your star?” asked Kurt, genuinely intrigued.

Theo reached under his white shirt, and pulled up a stone that was kept around his neck by a cord of thick leather. It was a piece of smooth stone, with a three pointed star carved into it. The symbol itself was generic. Kurt had seen it on some buildings here and there, and as part of the panoply of the Royal House, but that was not what he found interesting. The stone itself was grey, yet seemed to have metallic streaks through it.

“I recognise that!” the human said, his hand instinctively slipping into his trouser pocket. He had forgotten to check that the stone was still there, and was quietly relieved now that he checked to find it was where he had left it before the girls had started peeling his clothes off. He produced it, and lifted it up in his palm so Theo might see.

“Where did you get that?”

“From a merchant in the Great Market yesterday. He was a runner. He said he found it in one of the old cities of the Elves.”

“Aye,” Theo said with a nod, taking the rock and examining it closely. “That’s where they all come from. Allegedly, they only come from there. It has something to do with what happened to the Elves, I think.”

They walked along quietly for a moment, both oblivious of the world around them. Theo’s attention was completely taken up by the small rock in his hand. Kurt watched him, and felt tense. He had no idea why, though.

“You should wear it,” Theo said, with great authority, as he handed it back to the man. “Put it on a cord like the one I’ve got. One that’s strong and not likely to snap anytime soon. Don’t ever take it off, not when you’re sleeping, fighting, washing, or fucking.”

“Why?”

“It’s star stone, Kurt. It keeps you safe from witches.”