The Ambassador Chronicles 1 - The Ambassador by Warhammer

Author:Warhammer [Warhammer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2011-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

III

Kaspar had believed his mood could not have worsened after having found the macabre offering left outside the embassy gates.

He could not have been more wrong; this was just the beginning of one of the worst nights of his life. After calming Anastasia down, they had made their way within the embassy to find Pavel awaiting them in the downstairs hallway.

The big Kislevite looked pensive as he said, 'Riders from Altdorf upstairs with letters for you. Important ones, I think.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Heavily armed. Tough men. Ridden hard to get here.'

'I see,' said Kaspar, gingerly passing the gory bundle to Pavel. 'Here, hold this.'

Pavel nodded and peeled back a layer of cloth. 'Ursun's teeth, these are hearts!'

'I know,' said Kaspar, disgustedly as he ascended the newly-carpeted stairs.

Awaiting him within his study were the four riders from Altdorf, their ragged clothes and pinched faces confirming that they had indeed ridden hard for many weeks to get to Kislev. Two knights stood with them and snapped to attention as Kaspar entered.

'Gentlemen.' began Kaspar, moving to stand behind his desk. 'I can see that you have had an arduous journey to get here. Might I offer you some refreshments?'

'No, thank you, herr ambassador.' said a burly man with a face like a mountainside who held out a folded piece of parchment sealed with green wax. 'My name is Pallanz and I bring you letters that come with the greatest urgency. I would see them delivered to you before taking my leave.'

'As you wish, Herr Pallanz.' said Kaspar, accepting the letter. He saw that the wax seal was emblazoned with the crest of the Second House of Wilhelm and his unease grew. He broke the seal and unfolded the thick parchment, taking his time in examining the letter's contents. The script was controlled and angular, and even before he saw the simple signature at the bottom of the letter he knew the handwriting belonged to no less a personage that the Emperor Karl-Franz himself.

Kaspar read the letter twice before letting it slip from his fingers. He slumped into his chair and let the words flow over him, not wanting to believe that they could be true and what it might, nay, would mean for his position here in Kislev.

He barely heard the riders ask for permission to retire and waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the door as the request was repeated.

As the riders left his study, Pavel entered, drying his hands on a linen towel.

Pavel pointed at the letter and said, 'Is bad?'

'Is bad.' nodded Kaspar.

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