CHAPTER NINE

 

 

The Wasteland lay to the west of the Reikwald Forest, and it took much longer than two days for Konrad and Wolf to reach the border. By then, Konrad’s five years of service had expired. Neither of them made any mention of the subject.

The Wasteland was barren and inhospitable, a cold wind from the Middle Sea perpetually sweeping across the plains, and so poorly populated that there was only one town in the whole desolate country. That was Marienburg, the largest port in the entire Old World. But that was not where Wolf led Konrad, and neither did they stop at any of the small villages or farms where the rest of the inhabitants dwelled.

Wolf would not reveal their destination or who would be there when they reached it, and Konrad soon gave up asking. This was the reason that Wolf had suddenly appeared out of the night to rescue Konrad from the bull-headed beastmen: so that they would ride together into the Wasteland to meet the mysterious “someone” who could answer all of Konrad’s questions on Chaos.

Or at least he could pretend this was what fate had intended, that there was nothing else he could do but allow himself to be carried along with the course laid out for him. And the further west that he travelled, the more he seemed to escape the web which had threatened to trap him amongst the interwoven strands of his life.

Wolf had also refused to reveal how and when he had become infected by Chaos. Konrad could understand that, because he was unwilling to speak about his time within the bronze armour and what it had done to him. But the fact that Wolf had survived for so long since he must have been affected, and that he was still such an implacable enemy of Chaos, gave Konrad renewed hope. He knew that the touch of warpstone had condemned him to ultimate destruction, but perhaps he could delay the time of his inevitable doom.

For as long as he had known him, Wolf had been fighting against Chaos, although he had never used that word. Wolf had been aware that the battle took on many forms, that the world was in danger upon many fronts. Because he was a warrior, he had chosen to combat the legions of damnation the only way he knew— by force of arms. He used military might to hold back the northern hordes which sought to break through the frontier defences in Kislev, and in this he had proved very successful. The mercenary army he built up had even pushed the barbaric tribes back towards their own benighted realms. But then came the day when the feral invaders had swarmed south, eliminating the mining town and destroying everyone within. Or almost everyone. Krysten had been the final victim.

Konrad and Wolf rode on, day after day, across the wilderness. The Wasteland was aptly named. The grass was parched and withered, the occasional tree was stunted and twisted.

There was hardly enough vegetation to sustain the few wild birds and animals that they saw. Little wonder that the population was so small. It was almost as if the whole land had already been claimed as Chaos territory and then abandoned as being worthless.

There were no roads, because there were not enough people to use them. There were not even rough tracks across the lifeless ground, and Konrad wondered how Wolf could possibly know which direction to take. Where there was nothing, however, it did not matter which compass point was chosen.

Finally, Konrad saw a point of green on the horizon. As the distance reduced, it grew into a clump of woodland. By then it was almost dusk, and they set up camp for the night. The next morning, the woods were identifiable as a small island of vegetation, entirely surrounded by a wide lake. The presence of water could not alone explain the fertility of the land in the centre. It was almost like a castle in the middle of a moat, but with trees instead of stone walls.

“This is where Galea lives,” said Wolf, reining in his horse as they reached the edge of the water.

“Who,” asked Konrad, doubting that he would be given a proper answer, “is Galea?”

“The wisest person in the world.” Wolf looked at Konrad, then grinned. “The Old World, at least.”

“He’s going to tell me everything I want to know?”

“And plenty you didn’t know that you wanted to know.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yes.” Wolf nodded thoughtfully, remembering.

“Then let’s go.” Konrad nudged his horse towards the water.

“No!” Wolf stretched out his hand to hold him back. “You have to go across alone, barefoot, bareheaded, without any weapons, without any armour.”

Konrad stared at him for a few seconds. “If you say so.” He dismounted, unbuckled his sword belt, dropped his dagger and removed his boots. He looked at the water again. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. It’s not deep. You can wade across.”

It was about fifty yards to the island, which itself was of a similar diameter.

“When you get to the middle,” Wolf added, “you have to immerse yourself completely. Three times.”

“You sure you’re sure?”

“Yes. I’ve been there once, and no one is allowed to return.”

Konrad stared up at Wolf. He trusted him totally, but he still felt uneasy. It must have been years since Wolf had come here; things might have been different now.

“Everything I want to know?” he said, gazing across the water.

“That’s right. And don’t eat anything, don’t touch anything, don’t try to bring anything back, and you must take something as a gift.”

“What?”

“This,” said Wolf, and he gave Konrad a small ivory comb. “I’ve had it for a long time, waiting for this day.”

Konrad examined the comb. There seemed nothing special about it, and he tucked it into his tunic pocket. “Anything else you want to tell me about Galea?”

“You’ll find out when you get there. It was a surprise to me, so I don’t want to spoil your surprise.”

“This had better be worth it.”

“It will be,” Wolf assured him.

Konrad turned and walked into the water. It was very cold, and within a few paces the level had reached his waist. “Am I allowed to swim across?” he called.

“I don’t know, but make sure you duck completely below the surface three times when you reach the middle.”

Like bowing in a temple, thought Konrad, as he took two more slow steps through the water. The level came up to his chest, but after two more steps he had gone no deeper. He swam the rest of the way, and halfway across he kicked himself below the surface, diving down three times before continuing to the other side.

As he waded ashore, he discovered that the mud above the water line was white. This seemed so odd that he picked up a handful of the stuff and examined it. He noticed that there were pieces of bone mixed in with the white mud—and then he realized that all of it was bone! The entire island was surrounded by a wall of powdered bone, which could only have been washed there by the waters of the lake.

Was this the fate suffered by those who disobeyed the proper etiquette? The ones who wore hats or carried swords or forgot to pay the correct obeisance midway across the lake…?

If so, there must have been many hundreds of them, thousands of them who had perished in the cold waters. Konrad shivered and rubbed his hand on his wet breeches, trying not to think what it was that he was wiping off.

The island seemed larger than it had first appeared, he noticed, much larger; and when he glanced back over the lake to where he had left Wolf, there was nothing in sight but water.

He should have been able to see to the other side, fifty yards away, but it was as if nothing else existed except the lake he had crossed. It appeared as wide as the Sea of Claws, whose shores lay hundreds of miles apart. He was tempted to turn back, but decided that might not be wise, that he would never reach the opposite side, which could now be hundreds of miles away. That was probably another factor which had increased the number of corpses swallowed by the lake, adding to the bleached bones which encircled the verdant island.

As Konrad began making his way within, he realized that it was far warmer than a few minutes ago, and that his clothes were drying rapidly in the heat. The sun was almost directly above, higher than he had ever seen it before; the sky was a rich shade of blue, a colour only seen at the height of summer; and he had never seen trees and plants as exotic as the ones which grew here. He was astonished by what he saw. It was as if he were in another land.

Perhaps he was. This was no mere island he had reached. In crossing the water he seemed to have arrived upon another continent…

He was gazing around in amazement when he heard a savage growl, which immediately brought him to his senses. He automatically reached for his knife; he had carried one for almost as long as he could remember. The first was the wavy-bladed dagger he had stolen from a soldier; the trooper had been part of a force which came to his village to eliminate all the beastmen in that part of the forest. Years later, Wolf had identified the blade as a kris, saying that it had come from the other side of the world. Konrad’s most recent knife was the one he had been issued with when he enlisted in the Imperial guard. Now he had no such blade.

The growling grew louder, came closer. There was some kind of ferocious beast stalking towards him through the thick undergrowth, and Konrad quickly looked around for something he could use as a weapon. A tree branch would make a club, and he reached up to snap one free from the nearest trunk. But as he wrapped his hands around the branch, he remembered Wolf’s warning; don’t touch anything.

He hesitated, then let go and stepped back. His only defences were those with which he had been born, but which had served him well when he had no others: his bare hands.

A moment later the creature appeared, striding confidently towards him. It was a huge black cat, a diamond of white fur on its chest. He had expected some kind of preternatural creature, but this was a leopard, its fur sleek and shiny, its fangs long and sharp.

The animal slowed, then halted, its tail slowly twitching, and it opened its huge jaws and roared out its challenge to him.

He would have preferred to confront a beastman, because that kind of creature would have attacked immediately. A wild animal was much less predictable and therefore more dangerous.

“Hello,” said a voice to Konrad’s side, and he spun around rapidly.

A young girl stood four or five yards away from him, eating an apple. She was about eight years old, her black hair braided into two plaits. Barefoot, she wore a peasant dress which had been patched and mended many times. Her face was dirty, and there was something strange about her expression, but Konrad could not work out what it was.

“Er… hello,” he replied, and he glanced back at the black leopard.

“He won’t hurt you,” said the girl. “Not unless you’re bad. Have you brought me a present?”

Konrad kept watching the animal, which was still quietly growling. “I’ve come to see Galea. Do you know where he is?”

“I’m Galea.”

Konrad glanced briefly at the girl again.

“I am,” she said, as she took another bite from her apple. “Really.”

Konrad stared at her. The wisest person in the world; This must have been the surprise that Wolf had mentioned.

“Who led you here?” she asked.

“Wolf. Wolfgang von Neuwald.”

Galea nodded. “I remember. He brought me a bracelet and I told him I wanted a comb.”

It seemed impossible that Wolf had seen this girl when he visited the island, that she had spoken to him. Even had he been here immediately before leaving for the frontier, a few weeks before he met Konrad, she could only have been two or three years old at the time.

It seemed impossible, but evidently it had happened.

“This is for you,” said Konrad, and he held out the ivory comb.

“Oh, thank you!” Galea said, stepping forward and accepting it. She pulled at one of her plaits, examining the frayed piece of rag with which it was tied. “I would like some ribbon next time. Silk, I think, and red.”

“Next time?” said Konrad, gazing into her eyes—and realizing what was so strange about her appearance.

Her eyes were like those of a cat. The pupils were narrow ovals of black, but otherwise they were completely gold.

He glanced back at the leopard, which was no longer growling. Its eyes were the same as the girl’s. Exactly the same. And her hair was as black as the animal’s fur.

Galea walked towards the leopard, reaching out to rub its neck. Its head came to a level with her shoulders, and it began purring as she stroked behind its ears.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Konrad.”

“Come with me, Konrad,” she said. She turned and walked away through the trees, her pet leopard by her side. Konrad looked back and could still see nothing beyond the shore but water. He followed Galea deeper into the island.

 

He told her. Everything. Things he had never revealed previously, but now could finally unburden from deep within himself.

They sat together on the grass, sheltered from the sun in a glade of trees, while the huge leopard lay by Galea’s side. She had not asked him to speak about himself, but as soon as he stared into her wise eyes, her feline eyes, he was aware that was what he should do. Although he had no evidence, Konrad knew he was doing so of his own volition, that she was exerting no supernatural power over him.

He narrated the story of his life, from his early days before he knew Elyssa, right through until when he met up with Wolf again. He remembered all the people he had encountered over the past several years, and how so many of them all seemed to be linked with one or more of the others. He told of the mysterious golden crest, the mailed fist between two crossed arrows. He related his fight with the goblins in the lost dwarf temple, how he had felt a new kind of vitality as he massacred the green fiends, and how he had falsely believed he was wielding a double-headed battle hammer instead of a waraxe. He spoke about his time within the bronze armour and the way he had been corrupted by warpstone. He described the strange visions he had experienced when Litzenreich and his dwarfs had removed the bronze suit and believed him dead, of his apparent travels amongst the stars, of his rebirth in his own body, of memories which were not his own, of confusing the death of Elyssa with that of Evane: she had been Sigmar’s first love, murdered by a goblin raiding band, and Konrad originally learned about all of this during his dream, confirming it later from one of the chronicles of Sigmar’s life.

Most of his story came out unbidden, as though he had rehearsed it for so long, although occasionally Galea had to prompt him, or ask for clarification or for more specific details. Sometimes he found himself repeating what he had already said, but most of these were aspects which needed emphasis. And finally he was finished with his narrative.

He had completely forgotten that he was apparently addressing a young girl, because he knew that was not what Galea was.

She had sat without moving while Konrad had been talking. Now she unplaited her hair and began running her new ivory comb through it. Her hair reminded Konrad of Elyssa’s, and he tried not to think about that. It did not take long for his mind to become overwhelmed by other matters. As Galea combed, she spoke, and it was her turn to talk about everything, while all Konrad could do was to sit and listen and wonder.

“Imagine,” she said, “that the world is an island, an island surrounded by Chaos. Sometimes the tide rises higher than normal, and the world is threatened because it may be totally swamped. That is what is happening now.

“Mankind evolved millennia ago, when the world was also flooded by Chaos, when its raw essence first solidified into warpstone and warpdust. The elves and dwarfs were not so affected as the new race known as humans. They had their own times of ascendancy before then, times when they were the superior race; but when mankind claimed domination, the world was not as it had been. Mixing warpstone with the substances of our world led to the creation of the Chaos Wastes and of the mutants who originally dwelled there, but which now roam everywhere. Beastmen are the product of Chaos arriving upon this world, as are goblins and orcs and skaven and all manner of foul and perverted beings.

“And humans may also be regarded as the creation of Chaos.

“Within what we call the Old World, the dwarfs had replaced the elves, who had migrated across the Western Ocean, and now it appeared that the dwarfs would lose their lands to the goblinoid races. It seemed that the mutants would become rulers of the lands to the west of the World’s Edge Mountains, but then the eight warring human tribes who inhabited that region were united by Sigmar. Sigmar allied himself with the dwarfs, who gave him their sacred warhammer, Ghal-maraz, and together human and dwarf destroyed the goblin armies at the Battle of Black Fire Pass. This was two and a half thousand years ago, and Sigmar Heldenhammer—Hammer of the Goblins—founded the Empire.

“Sigmar is now revered as a god. He has a cathedral in Altdorf, temples throughout the known world, countless worshippers. The inhabitants of the Empire are all Sigmar’s children, literally as well as metaphorically; he lived so long ago it seems inevitable that every human is descended from his line. There is some part of Sigmar in everyone.”

Galea paused, gazing at Konrad.

“There is more of Sigmar in you than in most,” she said.

He stared at her suspiciously. From what Konrad had already told Galea, it was easy for her to suggest an association with Sigmar. She knew of Konrad’s battle with the goblins, when he had imagined himself wielding a hammer instead of an axe, how he had become imbued with almost supernatural strength. And Konrad had revealed the dream in which he had confused his own past with the life of Sigmar.

“I am not trying to flatter you,” Galea said. “You already suspect that Sigmar has given you a purpose. And you are correct.”

“What purpose?” demanded Konrad. “What?”

“I do not know the future, although I knew that when Wolf was here that he would one day lead someone else to me. That is his purpose, Konrad, to guide you as he has done ever since the day you and he first met.”

Konrad said nothing, he was too busy trying to absorb all the implications of Galea’s revelations.

“You are important to Sigmar,” she continued, “and this means that you have many enemies who wish to thwart Sigmar’s intentions. There is one in particular who appears to have been manipulating various diverse foes in order to further his own nefarious schemes.”

Konrad knew exactly who Galea meant.

“Skullface! Who is he? What does he want with me?”

It was Galea’s turn to say nothing.

“Tell me more about Sigmar,” said Konrad.

Galea said, “Half a century after becoming Emperor, Sigmar returned to the World’s Edge Mountains to take Ghal-maraz back to the dwarfs. He was never seen by human eyes again, and his mortal body is believed to have perished.

“The body is a part of the material world, but the soul is a part of Chaos. In moments of extreme stress, it is possible for a mortal to summon up the inner resources of the soul, thus deriving power directly from Chaos. Upon death, the human spirit returns to Chaos, to join the other souls or to await reincarnation. Few spirits will be reborn, but those that are become more and more powerful through each rebirth.

“Chaos is sometimes known as the Sea of Lost Souls. These souls may combine into a greater whole, a coalescence of energy created by the linking of similar spirits. These centres of energy are thus created by the very essence of life, and they are known as the powers of Chaos. Or the gods of Chaos…

“And thus it can be claimed that men make gods in their own image, while the gods themselves exert their own influence upon mankind. Or is there only one god, and all others but different aspects of the one deity? Is there only one soul which all humans share? Is this one soul part of the one god, or is the one god part of the one soul?

“Good and bad, Law and Chaos. Could one exist without the other? Are they but different aspects of the same belief?

“All I know is what I have learned. I have learned much, and some of what I have said may conflict, but that is all we can rely on: our memories, our trust in the experiences of ourselves and others. Yet human memories are fallible and cannot be totally relied upon. None of this might be true, or only some of it. What you have told me might never have occurred, or was not what you believed. Perhaps the dwarfs never did inhabit the Old World, and the ancient temple you discovered was merely created the previous day. What is recorded in the history books might only have been written an hour ago, and similarly the dust which lies across the worn covers of such volumes was the creation of but a moment past. There is no proof and there can be none.”

Galea had told Konrad this and much more, and then she had said none of it could be trusted. He had already known that what was true one day might be false the next.

“Why have you told me all this?” he asked.

“Because you should know,” she said.

He gazed at her, trying to see beyond the figure of a little girl, past her feline eyes. “Who are you?”

“I am one who was saved. I was possessed by the darker side of Chaos, many many years ago. I was a daemon, for many many years.”

It was a word Konrad knew, but he could barely imagine its implications.

“But I was released by a far greater force, like the one to which you were being drawn in your vision of the afterlife—but infinitely more powerful. And that is who I now serve.”

A white dove had landed on Galea’s shoulder, and now she took hold of it, stroking its feathers. It began to coo, just as the black leopard had purred when she had stroked its fur.

“What must I do?” asked Konrad.

“You must do whatever you must.”

“Who am I?”

Galea smiled and shook her head. Konrad did not know whether this meant she could not answer or would not answer.

She clutched the bird with one hand and suddenly thrust it towards the leopard. A single bite, a gulp, and the bird was gone down the huge cat’s throat.

 

The other side of the lake was once more in view as Konrad waded into the cold water and began swimming back. He felt quite content and had been unwilling to leave the island, but there was nothing else that he wished to learn. It was only when he reached the far bank that he realized how little Galea had really told him. There was some history, which might not have been true; but most of it he already knew, whether it was true or not. Galea had explained the nature of Chaos, but her interpretation was not necessarily accurate.

Despite this, he felt reassured by what he had discovered. The world did make sense, and he had a significant part to play in its events; he had no doubt that in this Galea had told him the truth. And beyond the world there was another, a greater realm of existence, and what occurred upon one had a significant effect on events elsewhere.

Everything was connected, just as all the important people in his own life were linked. He was unable yet to comprehend the pattern, but at least he knew there was one; and perhaps eventually he would be able to understand it all.

Konrad had learned nothing of his origins, but that seemed of little consequence compared with what had been revealed of his focal role. The past no longer mattered, because it could no longer affect him. What he did now and in the future was far more important.

Wolf was waiting when he arrived back, and he had a fire lit. It was almost dusk, and Konrad stared at the setting sun.

“I didn’t know I was gone that long,” he said, warming himself by the blaze.

“Three days, you mean?”

“Three days!”

“Time is different there—and everything else.”

Konrad looked back to where he had been, and he nodded in agreement.

“Now where?” asked Wolf.

There could be only one answer. Wolf had been his guide until now, but not any longer.

“Altdorf,” replied Konrad.

“Me, too. I headed for the frontier because that was where the enemy was. Now the enemy is in the capital, and it’s an enemy I know how to deal with.” Wolf gripped the hilt of his sword, pulling the blade slightly out, then sliding it swiftly back into its oiled black scabbard as if he were thrusting it into an enemy’s flesh.

Konrad was still gazing at Galea’s island. It looked so small, so dark, but he knew that the sun was still shining down upon its numerous acres.

“I now know that you’re the one,” Wolf had said, after their battle with the mutated Imperial guards. “The one I must take.” Then he had led Konrad here.

Was this the reason that Wolf had made Konrad his squire, so long ago? Had everything which had happened over the subsequent years been nothing more than a prelude to his meeting with Galea?

And, Konrad remembered, it was not until Wolf had seen the black quiver which he held, the one with the enigmatic emblem, that he had offered Konrad the role of squire.

“We can be in Marienburg in a few days,” added Wolf, “then take a boat up the Reik to Altdorf.”

As he stared at what appeared to be an island in the middle of a lake, Konrad wondered about Wolf’s previous visit here, when it had been he who had made the journey through the water. How long ago had it been, and who had led him here? And who was it who had visited Galea previously, when she had asked for the bracelet that Wolf had taken to her?

He did not ask, because he knew Wolf would not answer. But he wondered if some day he would return and stand here while another ventured across the lake. Perhaps he should buy some red silk ribbon at the next opportunity, and carry it with him until it was time for him to guide someone else to the eternal child.