The Witch Hunters, Book 1: The Prophet of Ash

Siegfried’s blade carved open the face of the first of Urba’s follower’s that got too close. The hasty, desperate stroke left him off-balance and unable to recover in time to deal with the next of the Ashen. The flaming torch served as an adequate substitute, and he plunged it into the poor bastard’s chest. The stench of burned hair and flesh nearly overwhelmed the stench of bodies as the rest piled on top of him. The weight of unwashed cultists threw him to the floor. Hands clawed at his weapons, tearing them from his grasp, as others pinned him down. Siegfried tried to scream, but a meaty fist struck him across the face. He tried to kick, to thrash, but those futile gestures only earned him body blows that left him coughing and howling as the filthy, stinking fanatics lay into him. Someone grabbed him by the ears, pulling his head up from the stones, before smashing it back into them with enough force to leave him blinded by pain for an instant. Things seemed to slow, and the feelings and fear grew more distant as his vision returned. The world began to shift. Siegfried could not feel his limbs. He was floating in the void.

Urba’s face rose out of the dark before him, leering triumphantly.

“He said people like you would come.” The dwarf’s voice was distant, but growing closer. “This is sooner than I expected. Tell me, my richly dressed friend: are you one of the King’s rats? Check him!”

Hands clumsily tore at his coat and under-shirt. There was a far off cry of delight, and Siegfried watched his star being pulled away. The dwarf, now sneering in contempt, laughed as one of his faithful minions danced about with it.

“It is as I thought. You’re mad to come here alone, sire. People like you have hounded us since the Last Days. You deny the true faith. You burn us wherever you find us, but you only ever add to our numbers. We are Ashen!”

The air around him seemed to rumble as the crowd holding him repeated their priest’s mantra. Siegfried felt sick with fear. He tried to pull himself out of their grip, but couldn’t even be sure he was moving anymore.

Urba reached out, grabbing him by the hair to keep them seeing eye-to-eye, if only in the literal sense. The dwarf’s eyes were wide. His pupils dilated and as he laughed in the Prince’s face, thick wads of spittle washed all over it.

“You hunt us! You burn us! But we take those martyrs’ ashes and wear them with as we carry on with the great work! The work of the Masters!”

“The Masters of the Earth,” whispered Siegfried’s captors.

“The Masters of the Air!” shouted Urba.

“The Masters of the Air!” echoed his congregation.

“The Masters of the Stars!” howled the dwarf, throwing his hands high, as though reaching for the heavens.

For one brief, ridiculous instant, Siegfried hoped his captors would mimic their priest when they echoed his words.

“The Masters of the Stars!”

Urba’s whole demeanour seemed to change as he led his congregation in their chants. He seemed to grow larger, more powerful. There was madness in his eyes, and the stench of blood on his breath.

“The Masters who are gone!” Urba howled then.

“The Masters who will come again!” The darkness echoed weirdly with their shouts, echoes resounding as though the interior were far larger than Siegfried could have ever guessed.

“Bind this apostate to the altar!”

The crowd surged forward. Siegfried started to thrash and fight again, screaming curses down on the lot of them. They dragged him past Urba, and the altar appeared out of the smoky red-tinged gloom. Dead chickens, their entrails plucked and arranged in sickening patterns, adorned a stone surface fouled with fluids whose origins Siegfried did not want to contemplate. His panic built. The prince’s mind rebelled against what he knew was coming and the terror of it caused a surge of adrenaline suddenly Siegfried was intensely aware of everything around him. He wanted to pray for forgiveness, but he was too afraid to focus on anything other than that altar and the awful things already on it.

Someone to his left let out a shriek of agony. It took a second for Siegfried to realise that the hands that had been gripping his left arm were gone. His captors slowed. There was confusion as the screaming continued, or was that someone else screaming now? Siegfried couldn’t tell.

“Let him go! Let him go!”

Another scream, and the scaled man who held his right arm toppled to the floor. His weight nearly toppled the prince. The screaming continued. This time, Siegfried was certain he’d heard something cutting the air an instant before the scaled man fell over. He looked down at the naked, filthy Ashen as the howling cultist rolled about on the floor in agony, the tip of an arrow poking out of his lower belly.

Another scream, and the world rushed to meet him. Siegfried’s arms reacted, thrusting out to stop his fall. He realised then that he was free. No one was holding him any more. He scrambled back to his feet and whirled around to see what was happening.

“Janus?”

“Shut up,” the runner snapped. He was standing about thirty feet away. He had another arrow knocked to his bowstring and was sweeping the hunting bow over the crowd. A handful of Ashen were moaning where they had fallen, clutching their bleeding limbs or torsos. One of the dwarves closest to the runner was lying face down in the filth, unmoving, an arrow in the back of his neck. Something stirred in the dimness behind the runner and metal glinted in the firelight, shining off the edge of a sword as Kurt Bauer stepped into the light next to the wolf-man. There was no hiding the abject terror on the farmer’s hairy face.

“What the hell is happening here?”

“Kurt, shut up.” Janus growled. “Siegfried, get over here. We’re leaving.”

“No,” the prince groaned, surprising himself. He pointed a shaking arm to where Urba stood, fuming impotently. “He knows something about what’s going on!”

“Then we take him with us!”

“I am not going anywhere,” Urba replied. He put his stocky arms across his soft chest, puffing himself up defiantly. “You three are not going anywhere. You’re causing an awful racket, and there’s no door between us and the hall outside. My people will hear this. Soon, they will be here. Soon, you’ll all die.”

“We don’t have time for this!” Janus screamed.

The prince saw Kurt looking nervously back towards the entrance. Siegfried looked about and his eye caught on a scaled female holding his star stone in her hand. He snatched it out of her grasp, his mind racing. He staggered towards Janus and Kurt, shoving his way past a few of the Ashen who had not been shot. He saw his sword on the ground and scooped it up as he looked back at the dwarf.

“What does he want with the boy?” Siegfried yelled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kurt had stopped watching the door. “How did he know about him?”

“In the darkest night, all the real stars burn brilliantly,” Urba replied, smiling cryptically.

“That’s not a fucking answer!”

“Siegfried,” he heard Janus say behind him. “There are people stirring outside. We need to leave.”

“What is he doing in the Dead Lands?” Siegfried growled, ignoring the runner. He could hear the sounds of a large group of people stirring now outside, too. There was confusion, but soon there would be outrage, and no escape, and yet… “Why is he gathering witches together?”

“To save the world.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Siegfried, I can hear them talking - ”

“Shut up, Janus!” Siegfried snarled over his shoulder “What does that mean, you filthy bastard! What’s he saving the world from?”

“From us,” said Urba. His arms fell to his sides, he took a hypnotic step forward.

“Siegfried, he’s stalling!” Kurt roared at him, terrified. “Please, we need to leave!”

“He is saving us from man,” the dwarf went on, waiving his stained hands about. The moaning of his people ceased. Siegfried felt a dozen sets of eyes watching him closely, tracking him in the dark. “He is saving us from minotaur, and dwarf, scaled, and even filthy dogs that think they know how to live. He has found where the Elves have gone. He will bring them back, and there’s nothing ants like you can do to stop him.”

“We’ll see about that,” Janus said, and loosed his arrow.

Urba grunted and blinked. He took an unsteady step back, looking down at the arrow sticking out of his chest with real surprise.

Shocked silence settled over all those in the chamber. Siegfried’s shoulder jolted and burned as sharp claws dug into it. An instant later, Janus began pulling him.

“RUN!”

Siegfried obeyed. He caught up with Kurt just as the heavy man reached the entrance back out into the hall. Janus was cursing just behind. The silence they were fleeing ended. A rising sob built up behind them as they turned into the barely lit hall. Where it had been mostly empty, it was now full of standing, confused figures. They had reached the steps and the ramp to the next level when the air behind them was filled by a howl of rage.

“KILL THEM!”

Hands reached out in the dark. Siegfried stumbled and was nearly pulled off of his feet by grasping claws at his ankles. Janus was at his side in that instant, his axe glinting as he brought it down on some shadowed shape that jolted and screamed. A howl built up behind them. The crowd surged towards them like a black tide.

Janus pulled Siegfried along. They staggered forward together, reached the steps that Kurt had already ascended. He was waiting for them, sword in his trembling hand.

“Run Kurt!” Janus called out “Just run!”

Bauer obeyed. They reached the stairs. Siegfried staggered up them while Janus leapt up the gap without a moment’s hesitation. Hands tore at the Prince’s cloak, and so he reached up to undo the clasp. The howling behind him increased in pitch as his pursuers succeeded only in capturing fine velvet cloth.

“Make for the stable!” Janus screamed as they caught up with Bauer.

They reached the second level, moments ahead of the screaming horde that pursued them. The light was only slightly better, but there were other people up here, too. The three of them weaved carelessly through the beggars on the ground and the priests giving succour to the destitute. Behind them, the Ashen tripped and fought their way through the islands of people who quickly began to fight and scream back. Kurt was wheezing and nearly doubled over before they were even halfway to the last ramp. Janus grabbed the man under one arm. Siegfried mirrored the wolf-man’s action. Together, they half carried the big man between them as frenzied violence erupted in their wake. They reached the first floor.

“Get our horses!” Siegfried yelled to Janus. The runner ran ahead, disappearing around a corner. Siegfried’s limbs were burning. It felt like acid was running through his veins. “Come on Kurt! We’re nearly there!”

Bauer could only cough violently in response. Screams and curses reached Siegfried’s ears, snapping at him like hounds chasing down a fox. Some of the Ashen had fought their way through the chaos underground. The light of the dull day they had left blazed suddenly before them as they pushed their way through the last confused denizens of the temple. They were so close now.

Please God. Please. Please. Please…

They reached the final ramp. Siegfried felt what might have been fingertips glance over his shoulder, but then they were gone. He and Kurt reached the surface. The light stung the prince’s eyes and he cursed again but they couldn’t stop so they had to stagger on, tripping over debris, shoving past ragged figures and arguing preachers. Behind them, the hell they had left seemed to bellow in rage.

The ground trembled suddenly and the prince heard pounding hooves. Siegfried almost burst into tears at the sight of Janus, riding towards them on a horse. Siegfried saw a female runner then just behind him, sharing the saddle. She had one arm wrapped tightly around his waist. Her other hand held the reins of two other horses, one of which was his very own charger.

“Come on!” the runner yelled as he reined up before them. The other animals neighed, eyes rolling in terror at having been dragged so close to this evil place. Siegfried helped a retching Kurt onto his horse as Janus readied his bow again. The prince saw him loose an arrow, heard it crack as it struck stone. “Back the fuck off, or I’ll put the next one through your fucking eye!”

Mounting his charger was difficult. Siegfried’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He was certain they were about to be caught, torn from their mounts, and dragged back into the darkness to be murdered in the name of the cult’s blasphemous god. It took far longer than it should have, but he managed it. He spurred his horse forward, slapping Kurt’s in the rear to provoke it into fleeing, too. The fat man barely held onto the reins but followed after the prince. He heard a scream behind him, and then Janus and his female companion were right on their heels.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Siegfried managed to yell. His stomach was tight. He was going to be sick any second. “You were ordered to go to the Capital!”

“Good thing for you that I quit, then!” Janus laughed maniacally.