By Volk-Oboroten'
Waking as a pail of cold water splashed in his face, Hermann wondered where was. He quickly concluded he was still in prison, when he saw the scowling visage of Voivode Eigird in front of him. It could be none other, for Hermann had seen drawings of Nasoj's field commander after his victorious campaign in Arabarb. But why would Eigird want to see him?
"Who was your companion?" asked Eigird, as a guard pointed a dagger at Hermann's throat. "Answer me now!"
"I d-d-don't know," stammered Hermann. "Where am I?"
"That's not good enough!" exclaimed Eigird, angry at this response. "A mysterious woman suddenly appears in this town without explanation, holding a seeing stone from Nasoj's own Citadel. Even worse, she's somehow transported Roderic's bane to Caralore!"
Hermann glanced to the right, spotting the great black axe lying on top of a pile of straw. Eigird's guards nervously walked around it, for rumors of its eldritch power had spread far in Nasoj's empire. No one wanted to get too close to the accursed weapon.
"We have ways to make you talk," continued Eigird. "I can't get a straight answer out of Captain Tolvin, but I'm sure you'll be more cooperative. First, look to the left, where one of my retainers is now preparing the instruments of torture."
Hermann was reluctant to look for he'd heard tales of men who'd wished they had died rather than endure the agonizing pain inflicted by Nasoj's minions. Seeing his evident reluctance, one of Eigird's men grabbed Hermann's muzzle, forcing him to gaze down at the metallic horrors.
After a cruel laugh, the voivode resumed speaking, "I can tell that you've just seen the thumbscrews already. I use them to make people tell the truth, but mainly because it's so much fun to see them moan as the bones in their fingers break. For a weasel like you, I imagine it would be excruciatingly painful."
"I swear that I know nothing about a woman. I don't even know how I got here."
"That's exactly what I intend to find out," said Eigird. Then, pointing at some dark stones lying on the floor, he declared, "I know that you were in Nasoj's Citadel, for I've only seen these rocks on the walls of the fortress. How did you escape? Are you in league with Lilith's unholy minions? Speak now, or face unbearable agony!"
Hermann shuddered, for he had no idea how to answer the heartless voivode. As a guard approached with the thumbscrews, he was surprised to see a black cat strolling behind his torturer. If only it would jump on Eigird and scratch his eyes out!
Eigird leered at his prisoner for a moment, but then paused, lost in thought. He then grabbed the fur stole around his neck, tore it off, and shook it. As the voivode discarded the musty rag, insects jumped from it, tumbling onto the ground and fleeing in many directions.
"I really need a new flea cravat," said Eigird. "This wretched town is just full of vermin!" As a guard prepared to strap the thumbscrews on Hermann, the voivode stared at his prisoner's neck, saying "I've got a better idea. Get a sharp knife, and slowly cut the fur off that weasel's neck in a ring, making sure not to sever any vital veins. I've wanted an ermine stole for a long time, for they're said to be the height of fashion. But I was never able to get one in my size."
Meanwhile, a group of black cats entered the room, following the initial feline. They padded over to the black axe, eyes glowing yellow in the dim candlelight. One of Eigird's guards noticed their presence just as he was about to slice his blade into Hermann's neck.
"Hell-cats!" shouted Eigird. "This is the work of that witch! She sent her familiars to spy on us, to see if her servant will talk."
One guard bolted forward with a sword to confront the feline menace, only to have nine black tails bolt out the door. Then, as the voivode's face grew red with frustration, a single white cat briefly appeared at the opening, as if he was taunting Eigird's men for their failure to catch any of their furry foes.
"This is more important," said the voivode, motioning to one of his guards to stay with Hermann. "I'll resume interrogation once I've killed the witch's diabolical pets. Let's see how she acts once I start skinning her cats! She'll be forced to reveal the true nature of her power!"
As Eigird rushed outside with his soldiers, the cats were already racing home. Dashing through the narrow streets of Caralore, they soon found the lair of their mistress. As soon as they rushed inside, Fortinbras bolted the door.
As the felines settled around the feet of a thickly cloaked woman, Fortinbras asked her, "Will the Emissary be here soon? Tolvin said he would come by noon at the latest. I hope that is true, for it will be difficult for me to hide you from the voivode, Beruthiel."
The woman drew back her hood, revealing a pair of gray-green eyes. Looking down at her cats, Beruthiel replied, "Tolvin himself has already left Caralore to meet Gorthaur. There, he will receive instructions, news of the Nameless One's plans for Caralore. As for Eigird, I do not fear his wrath, for he is a fool. The cats told me that he hasn't extracted a single useful word from Hermann! What incompetence!" As she laughed, Fortinbras noted the patches of smoky-gray fur in her dark hair, reminding him of a snow leopard he'd once seen in the mountains.
While Eigird frantically searched the alleys of Caralore for Beruthiel's pets, he was unaware that Valaric's army was massing to the south of the city. Lilith's commander was aware that the garrison might outnumber the small force he'd brought, but remained confident that he would receive little resistance in Caralore. He'd just received word that a delegation had slipped out the back gate to see him, suggesting they might be ready to defect. Also, unexpected reinforcements from Lik were supposed to arrive soon.
Standing alone under a tree at the edge of the forest, Valaric looked down a dark path. For some reason, he felt uneasy, as if the shadows cast by the feeble sun concealed a unnatural power. As a cold breeze swept across the snow drifts, a party of lutins approached, marching in front of a figure clad in black armor.
The first lutin approached, acting as herald, "Lord Black Fang, we have come to Caralore with the Black Claw. Lilith's giants freed him from prison when the wizard's portal was destroyed in Lik. Now, he has arrived to rally the kindred of the Nameless One."
Looking back at the lutin, Valaric said, "I have not heard of this Black Claw before, but am willing to accept the aid of anyone who was imprisoned by Nasoj. Long before I served Lilith, I also knew the torment of the wizard's dungeons. But what am I to tell my men about your companion? They are unlikely to follow one who is nameless. That's why I took the identity of Valaric, in order to gain the support of Lik's humans."
"The humans aren't needed," said another lutin. "Friends in Caralore are ready to aid Gor . . ." He abruptly stopped talking, clutching his throat, as the dark figure raised a gloved hand, from which sharp talon-like fingernails protruded. Valaric immediately surmised that this was the ‘Black Claw' of which the lutins spoke, guessing the clawed hand belonged to some sort of magical panther-man.
The first lutin glanced at the ground for a moment, and then said, in a quavering voice, "Our master does not allow new servants to use his right name. We may neither say it nor report it in any manner. Just refer to him as ‘The Black Claw'."
Valaric groaned for a moment. Another cat! He'd thought Lowenherz would be an easy recruit to Lilith's cause, only to find the were-manticore resistant to his best offers. Now, this arrogant feline was usurping the Dark Queen's position, acting as lord over these lutins.
"I take orders only from Lilith herself, not from some upstart. I'll accept the Black Claw's aid, but only on my terms. If he doesn't choose to reveal his name, he can work with the draconians. I'm sure he'll find their kindly disposition more to his liking."
The lutins' boss then strode forward, pulling back the mantle above his head. As the cloth slipped back, his glazed yellow eyes stared deeply into Valaric's face. Black fur rimmed the glowing red edges of his penetrating eyes, which intently watched Valaric's every move.
"Enough of this!" said Valaric, glancing in another direction. "I've worked for the Queen for a long time, so I'm not going to fall for a hypnotic mind-control spell. Try your tricks on the draconians, as I'm sure Scathamond will respond if you try to steal his servants."
Incensed by Valaric's refusal to look at him, the lutins' magical leader hissed and then spat on the ground. As Valaric began to walk away, he noticed a procession of figures in the snow, coming down the slope from Caralore. They moved stealthily through a valley, seeking not to be noticed by men posted on the walls.
"Captain Tolvin and his companions are coming," said the first lutin. "The humans wish to do homage to the Black Claw, Emissary of the Nameless . . ."
"Will they also serve Lilith?" asked Valaric, interrupting the green creature's words.
"Yes," answered the lutin. "All creatures of darkness will work on Lilith's behalf so long as her power grows. Tolvin commands the garrison of Caralore and plans to open the gates to your army. He also will welcome the soldiers from Metamor."
"Metamor!" exclaimed Valaric. "I didn't know Keepers were nearby."
"They will arrive before nightfall," responded the lutin. "You must meet them, for the Black Claw's servants have recovered Whisper from Nasoj's Citadel. The Ear-Cleaver lies within the city now, but must be returned to Metamor Keep. It is the will of the Nameless One!"
Not far away, as the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, a band of soldiers rested under a tree. Beyond the edge of woods, they could see the grim gates of Caralore. Such fortifications would be difficult to storm, but they now believed that no battle would be needed.
"So, Dagobert, do you really believe that they'll just let us in?" asked Tarkhan, looking at the soldiers standing on the battlements of the city.
"Valaric's sure the garrison is ready to join our side. He told us that a group from within Caralore came out to meet him before noon. We'll just have to wait until they are ready to act."
"Can we really trust them? Or will they betray us to Nasoj? I'm starting to worry about Valaric's judgment, as he's invited some odd people to join the army. Just look over there!"
Glancing into the trees, Dagobert watched a group of deathly pale men huddled in the dense woods, keeping away from the sunlight. A group of lutins passed them for a moment, but then retreated in horror. Even though Dagobert and Tarkhan were yards away, they also felt a momentary twinge of terror.
"Oh. That's just the Eternal Brotherhood," said Dagobert. "We were worried when they first openly announced their presence three days ago, but we've learned they are actually the most loyal servants of the Queen."
"I've heard they'll drink your blood and do other unnatural things. Aren't they vampires?"
"Shhh . . . We don't use that word, as it gets people too nervous. But as far as Lik is concerned, anyone is welcome who opposes Nasoj. Even people who aren't alive, in the conventional sense. Besides, they aren't dangerous and don't seek to forcibly induct others. From what I've heard, only volunteers are allowed to join the Eternal Brotherhood, after proving their complete dedication to the Dark Lady."
At that moment, a large column of soldiers emerged from trees, acting as an escort for Valaric and a party of lutins. After they brought his black steed, Valaric mounted and then rode to the front of the Lik regiment. He waited for the lutins to arrive, ready to announce the good news to the assembled men.
"Caralore will be ours before nightfall! The garrison commander has pledged his fealty to Lilith, and promises that his men will aid us against Voivode Eigird. Even now, the villainous Voivode is preparing to leave the city with loot, treasure extracted from many towns in the Giantdowns by Nasoj's agents. If we march quickly, we can cut off his escape, regaining all the wealth stolen by the wizard."
Following Valaric's speech, the men quickly organized into small groups to more easily travel through the woods. If they rushed through the trees quickly, they might ambush Eigird as he started north from Caralore! Tarkhan's Bremen company, experienced in clearing paths in the winter, started work on the bypass trail, while Dagobert's men from Lik followed behind.
"What is that!" exclaimed Tarkhan, looking at a dark, hooded figure strolling through the woods just ahead of him. "Is he a mage, Dagobert? Or another strange creature from Lik?"
"That's the Emissary. He's said to be some sort of catlike sorcerer, but I've heard that he doesn't have too much power. Or at least, not so far. It seems that he was imprisoned for a long time, but got free after Nasoj's portal was destroyed."
The figure drew nearer, accompanied by a number of lutins with glazed eyes. He turned a corner in a hurry, causing the wind to brush his cloak aside, briefly revealing powerful claws covered with black fur. The mage's green slaves began to gibber maniacally, crying "Ghash! Burzum!," and other uncanny words in a foreign tongue. Troubled by this, Tarkhan asked, "Are you sure he's on our side? Maybe Nasoj summoned him?"
"Don't worry about that. The Emissary's just got a weird way with lutins. When he first showed up, just hours after Roderic died, people were very fearful. However, we soon learned that his powers were quite limited."
"Nasoj was also weak at first! He only became strong after gaining Ba'al's favor. How do you know your Emissary couldn't make himself a second Nasoj after a few years? I just don't like the way he shas those lutins enthralled, captivated entirely to his will. How do you know he won't do that to men?"
"He's not our Emissary. Some sort of religious cult in Caralore calls him Emissary, or ‘the Black Claw.' I bet that's how Valaric got the garrison to join our cause, by promising their religious leaders something in return for their aid today."
The dark figure passed Tarkhan and Dagobert silently, draped by a dark shadow of menace. His lutin slaves marched in strict order behind him, quite oblivious to the patches of frostbite on their green skin. They muttered repetitively in an odd language, still cacaphonously chanting as their teeth chattered in the cold.
"I'm glad they're heading back down the road toward Lik," said Tarkhan. "Even if this Black Claw is our ally, I wouldn't want to be near him for long. I just hope he doesn't stop in Bremen, for I'd hate to have something like that lurking in my hometown."
"Don't worry. Someone with that degree of control over lutins will be welcome in Lik's mines. Valaric's probably already found a section he can work, searching for magical items for the Dark Queen. The Black Claw is not going to have any cause to stay in Bremen."
Dagobert's guess was correct, for Valaric had established a treaty with Gorthaur Black Claw, Emissary of the Nameless One. In return for Tolvin's agreement to help Lilith gain Caralore, Gorthaur would be granted a small fief, named Cirith Morgul, high in a mountain pass behind Lik. There, he could practice necromancy and the other black arts in secret, so long as he sent a small tribute to the Vampire Queen. Also, Valaric guaranteed the religious freedom of the Nameless One's cult so long as they promised to honor Lilith and the other daedra in their arcane rituals, for Lilith valued worship far more than petty financial gain.
While Valaric's men trudged through the woods, eager to prevent Eigird's escape from Caralore, the voivode leisurely prepared to depart from the city. He'd intended to leave by noon, but had spent too much time hunting for a witch. Failing to catch her or any of her fleet-footed cats, Eigird resolved to resume an activity he greatly enjoyed: interrogating terrified prisoners.
Before the voivoide entered the guard house, one of his men dragged Hermann into a side room, where other captives were held. In the dimly lit room, Hermann spotted the magic black axe lying in a cart, so he lunged forward, hoping to grab it. But his guards anticipated this move and forcefully pushed him back against the outside of one cell, shoving his tail inside the bars.
"Watch out, weasel!" shouted a guard, as Hermann braced himself against the cage. "She's gone completely feral! Eigird couldn't get any words out of here, so he figures Nasoj cursed her with the mind of a wolf. I bet she'd wouldn't mind biting off the tail of a stupid ermine."
Despite the guard's warning, the lupine prisoner showed no hostility toward Hermann. Instead, she only growled forlornly at her jailer. Disappointed at her failure to attack, the guard said, "When the voivode gets here, he'll have you skinned so he can make you into a rug for his castle. Not many lords have a wolf pelt with a mane."
Hermann squirmed free as the wolf-woman rushed at the bars of her cage. Her sudden charge surprised Eigird's man, who came within inches of losing his fingers to her snapping jaws. As he pivoted back, Hermann grabbed the runic axe from its cart, feeling full of rage.
With a mighty blow, Hermann swung the axe, cleaning decapitating the guard. As the soldier's head rolled on the ground, he struck again, breaking the bars on the prisoner's cell. She burst forward, thrusting the remnants of her iron cage aside.
To Hermann's dismay, she dropped to all fours once free of the cage. Had Eigird been right about her? Hermann had only been in Nasoj's Citadel for a short period, but he imagined that some had been victim of the wizard's foul magic for years. Had Nasoj's sorcery completely replaced her mind with the thoughts of a wolf? Or a fox, as she looked rather vulpine as well?
"Help me too! Captain Tolvin sent me to Eigird after I wouldn't cooperate with his cult," said a voice from another cell. "Act quickly, because I fear the voivode will return soon."
With his left hand, Hermann moved a candle to get a better view of the remaining cell. The inmate appeared to be attired as a merchant, although his clothes were badly torn. Heaving the axe to release the prisoner, Hermann smashed the bars in a single blow. Laying the axe down on the cart, Hermann asked, "Who are you?"
"My name's Lowenherz. But let's not talk, for I hear someone coming! The door's over there."
Before Lowenherz could show Hermann the door, they heard heavy boots tramping through a hall in the other side of the building. Eigird and his soldiers! The female prisoner growled, digging her clawed forepaws into the floor, as she recognized the foul scent of the evil men who had thrown her in a cage.
Hermann clutched the axe, only to hear people approaching from the other door. Lowenherz retreated back into the room, confronted by Fortinbras, and a mysterious woman he didn't know. A black cat followed him, its eerie yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.
Eigird marched forward, with several men at his side, each carrying a short sword. The voivode himself held a torch, eager to find out why his guard hadn't reported the status of the prisoners. Entering the side room, Eigird found the guard's severed head lying on the portal, blood still dripping from its severed sinews and broken bones. Then, looking forward, he spotted an enraged weasel-man carrying a great black axe. Even worse, the mistress of the evil cats was standing just behind the weasel, standing next to some of her sinister pets!
"Roderic's Bane!" shouted Eigird, panic-stricken, as he fled back into the other room. "The witch has freed the prisoner and given him the magic weapon! You must sacrifice yourself for me!" Eigird then bolted out the door, running as fast as he could for the north gate of Caralore. A few soldiers within the guard house considered fighting, but quickly decided to save themselves when Hermann appeared in front of them, wielding the black axe. With little thought of Eigird's order, they scattered out of the building, determined to get away from the accursed weapon as quickly as possible.
[End of Part Three]