Nyklot: The Wendish Crusade and The War In Heaven 1147 AD by Wiselka Andre

Author:Wiselka, Andre [Wiselka, Andre]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

6.

The previous winter, several rustic warlords from the Saxony covertly convened in a small hunting lodge in the forests of Faldera, in order to conspire, and to decide the fate of wider Polabia and its various inhabitants.

A fierce blizzard reigned in. The horses neighed, and brushed against the stall as they shivered in the cold. It was midday but very dark, and there was a warm glow that protruded from the window of the lodge.

Outside the frosted hunting dogs, who remained tied to a pine tree, let out spirited whimpers. Inside Henry of Badwide, Vizelin, and the Margrave Albert the Bear sat around the hearth fire warming their hands as Marchrad cut fresh venison from the red deer that they had slain from the hunt that day.

Count Henry stroked his auburn hair. "It is so like the man to always be late for a meeting," he said. "Does he not consider us his peers?"

"Calm yourself, good sir," replied Vizelin. "Count Adolph is traveling from far away, and will probably arrive by sled."

Suddenly the dogs began to bark. Vizelin removed the hood of his woolen cloak, and walked towards the window. "I believe that this must be him right now as we speak."

A hooded man approached on sled. He was fully covered in a long beaver-skin robe. After halting he paused for a moment and looked side to side. He then grabbed a box from the sled and walked towards the door where he was greeted by Vizelin, and Albert the Bear.

"How was your journey, Count?" asked the chubby, bearded Albert.

Count Adolph unmasked himself, exposing a bright red set of hair and vicious, glaring eyes, chiseled out of intense pain and contemplation.

"It was well, thank you, Margrave," he said with a controlled but fierce voice. "Have I missed the hunt?"

"Marchrad felled a deer," said Vizelin. Meanwhile Marchrad neglected to turn around but continued to butcher the deer on the counter, standing meditatively with a fierce countenance. The deer's decapitated head faced the table.

"Indeed he did," replied Count Adolph, and put down several bottles on the table. "I brought cider," he said.

"We are most obliged," said Count Henry ironically, as he paced back and forth in the corner.

"Archbishop Adalbero sends his warmest regards to you, Count Adolph," said Vizelin, interrupting Henry. "He is sorry that he could not be here, but unfortunately his health is steadily declining."

Adolph gave Vizelin a long intense stare. All eyes centered in on him, including Marchrad's, who stopped cutting, and turned his head.

"Let us not waste time on formalities, priest," said Count Adolph.

"It is no secret that the man standing before you hates me with an intense passion, and that his friend here, Albert the Bear also presents me with no good will."

"Silence, impudent man!" hissed Count Henry.

"Gentlemen," supplicated Vizelin. "Can we not put aside our differences for the time being as Christian brothers? Does not Satan smile derisively as he watches Christ's servants tear each other apart? Come now; let us be brothers, for we all face a common enemy.

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