From the very walls of the tunnel, writhing streams of maggots emerged. In the twitch of a whisker, their wormy bodies moulted, transforming into a legion of hairy flies. Clouds of the vile insects took wing, swarming about the stormvermin, ignoring his shrieks of pain as they bit into his flesh. The halberd clattered to the floor as the ratman tried to flee, his body now carpeted with gnawing flies. Blinded by the swarm, he crashed into the wall, toppling to the floor in a screaming heap. If there were other sword-rats lurking above the ceiling, the agonies of the halberdier made them reconsider challenging the plague priest’s sorcery.
Puskab Foulfur watched his enemies with vindictive amusement. So would die all his enemies — slowly and in great pain. The suffering of these would be but a prelude to what would come.
Chapter V
Altdorf
Kaldezeit, 1111
The scene outside the Kaiseraugen was one of white tranquillity. The roofs of Altdorf were powdered with snow, the icy banks of the river shining like a field of diamonds in the early-morning sun. Tiny figures moved about upon the frozen docks, unloading cargo from the few ships still travelling upon the Reik. So small and frantic, they seemed like busy little ants.
Emperor Boris dismissed the men from his thoughts. Shifting his shoulders, snuggling his body deeper into the nest of warm furs draped about his throne, he restored his attention to the men seated around the table. Lord Ratimir was just finishing a particularly long-winded and tedious summation of the state of the Empire.
‘Half of the provinces have had a poor harvest this year, either through war or pestilence,’ Ratimir concluded. ‘Disease has run rampant among the peasants in six provinces, spreading faster than it could be contained. Many fiefs have been left without enough men to gather the harvest, forcing them to leave crops to rot in the fields. Worse, this misfortune has attracted vermin in unprecedented numbers… Mice and rats which gorge themselves in the abandoned fields and then turn their appetites upon such food stores as have been collected.’
Boris waved a jewelled hand, motioning his minister of finance to silence. ‘Exaggerations,’ he sneered. ‘A petty effort to cheat the Imperial Treasury. I want excise men sent into each province — outsiders, not natives — to evaluate the situation in each district.’ A cunning smile spread over the Emperor’s face. ‘Have taxmen from Nordland sent to evaluate Middenland, ones from Sylvania to inspect Stirland.’ He chuckled when he saw his smile infect Lord Ratimir’s lean features. He didn’t need to tell the minister to have provinces that already shared bad blood between them to police the accounts of the other. It would serve a twofold purpose. First it would ensure that each province would have its yields exaggerated by the inspectors dispatched by the enemy court. Whether such yields existed or not, the provinces would be taxed for them and the blame for this excess burden would fall upon the rival province, not the Emperor. Second, if a famine did develop, the Emperor could point to his tax records to show that ample supplies had been harvested and shift the responsibility over to greedy local lords engaged in speculation and hoarding.
‘There is another problem, your Imperial Majesty.’ Adolf Kreyssig rose from his seat, removing a scroll from a wooden tube as he approached the Imperial throne. ‘My Kaiserjaeger have discovered not less than six incidents of plague in the last two days. We have been able to remove the infected peasants to Mundsen Keep without even the Schueters taking undue notice. It is not uncommon for us to remove peasants for interrogation.’
‘Then there is no problem,’ Emperor Boris said.
Adolf Kreyssig shook his head and opened the scroll, unveiling a map of the city. ‘I’m afraid there is, your Imperial Majesty. The cases of plague we have found were in the vicinity of the south docks, the Niederhafen district; all of the victims were sailors of one stripe or another. That part of the city is cramped and overcrowded. Whatever fell influence brought the disease here, we can only assume that others have been exposed. It is only a matter of time before more incidents of plague begin popping up.’
‘What are you suggesting?’ Lord Ratimir asked. ‘That we burn down the Niederhafen district? Do you have any idea how much commerce enters the city from those docks?’
‘The plague may be entering the city from those docks,’ Kreyssig countered. ‘I have warned you that ships from Stirland and Talabecland should be turned away.’
‘Your point is noted, commander,’ Emperor Boris declared. The scheming gleam was back in his crafty eyes. A bejewelled hand drummed against the arm of his throne as his mind turned over the possibilities that now occurred to him.
‘I do not think you understand the potential here, Kreyssig,’ the Emperor said at last. He leaned forwards in his seat, pointing a finger heavy with rings at the commander of the Kaiserjaeger. ‘You didn’t find those people in the Niederhafen. They turned up near the Altgarten. The plague isn’t entering Altdorf from the docks, Engel’s rabble have brought it with them.’
Kreyssig’s head dipped in a grim nod. ‘I will have my men attend the peasants we have detained. It will look as though they died of the plague. We will leave the bodies close to Breadburg, conspicuous enough that someone will find them sooner rather than later. A bit of public fear will lend justification to future activities.’ Like Grand Master von Schomberg, Kreyssig was well aware that the Emperor was only biding his time before unleashing his knights against the Marchers.
‘Do not allow the panic to go too far,’ Emperor Boris cautioned. ‘I must be seen to be boldly leading the way, not reacting to the demands of peasants and petty lordlings. A day or so, then we ride against Engel’s rebels.’
‘I will have the Kaiserjaeger ready,’ Kreyssig declared, snapping his heels as he saluted the Emperor.
‘Notify the Reiksknecht as well,’ the Emperor ordered. ‘Get the Schuetzenverein too, if you think they will be needed.’ Boris waved aside the objection forming on the commander’s lips. ‘I don’t want Engel’s protest merely broken. I want an atrocity. I want a massacre. I want the Altgarten painted in blood. I want such a slaughter that it will make the Imperial Council scream in outrage.’ The Emperor chuckled as he settled back against the cushions of his chair. ‘It will be regrettable, but with more troops, such a massacre could have been avoided. Enough soldiers could have controlled the situation without bloodshed. The carnage could have been avoided.’
‘You will ask that Altdorf be granted a dispensation?’ Kreyssig asked.
The Emperor’s laughter swelled to a malignant thunder. ‘After their cries of outrage over the massacre, none of those crowned fools will dare deny my request!’
‘What about the plague, Your Imperial Majesty?’ Ratimir wondered.
All warmth left the Emperor’s eyes. ‘When Commander Kreyssig wipes out Engel’s rabble, there will be no more plague.
‘Is that understood?’
It was late in the evening before Adolf Kreyssig returned to his home, a plaster-walled townhouse in the wealthy Obereik district. Directing a stiff salute to the squad of black-liveried Kaiserjaeger standing guard outside the building, the officer mounted the narrow flight of stone steps and entered his home.
Kreyssig’s mind was awhirl with the conspiracy he’d become involved in. It was a measure of the confidence the Emperor placed in him that the execution of his plan had been entrusted to the commander of the Kaiserjaeger. He took a cruel pleasure from that display of trust. While barons and counts waved their airs and titles in his face, the Emperor himself recognised the capabilities of a mere peasant, choosing Kreyssig, not some pompous duke, to safeguard the city. He had been chosen over the highborn von Schomberg to lead the attack against Breadburg.