Warhammer - Knight of the Realm by Anthony Reynolds

Author:Anthony Reynolds
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781844166954
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2009-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE INTERIOR OF the despoiled chapel was filled with wood smoke and the smells of sw eat and cooking meat, and the sounds of drunken revelry rose to the rafters.

Warriors shouted, clinked drinking horns and laughed as a young skald recounted the gore-soaked adventures of Knut the Bloody, a Skaeling berserker w ho had fought alongside the ever-chosen Asavar Kul.

This revered hero had taken part in the sacking of the Kislevite city of Praag tw o hundred years earlier, before, glutted w ith blood, he ventured northward, journeying into the heart of the god-touched lands there where dreams and nightmares become reality. The Skaelings were enjoying the tale, roaring their approval as the skald re-enacted a battle fought betw een Knut and a mighty bloodthirster of Kharnath that ended w ith him breaking the back of the monster over his knee, and the powers that be granting him daemonhood and eternal life as a rew ard for his tenacity.

In one corner of the chapel a fight was underway. More w arriors were sent sprawling and tables overflow ing with food and drink were sent smashing to the stone floor as a massive, bearded huskarl laid around him in a drunken fury. He had already sent one man crashing through a stained glass window, an axe buried in his back, and half a dozen others w ere strewn around him, bloody and broken. Another was felled, bellow ing as the huskarl shattered his forearm w ith a hammer-blow of his fist.

Styrbjorn reclined in his throne atop the stepped dais at the end of the chapel, only half listening to the ranting Chaos dwarf, Zumarah, who was speaking angrily, standing one step from the top of the dais, spitting his words out as he addressed the Skaeling jarl.

'...promised me slaves, manling,' the dwarf w as saying. 'And here we sit on this Hashut-forsaken rock, doing nothing!'

'Patience, Zumarah,' said Styrbjorn, w aving aw ay the words of the infuriated dwarf.

'Once the w itch bears my son, then we shall take the fight back to the southlanders.'

'You speak lies and poison, manling,' said Zumarah, placing a foot on the top of the dais. Styrbjorn's w arhounds were instantly on their feet, baring their teeth and snarling at the dw arf. Unfazed, the dwarf merely snarled back at them, though he did not move any closer to the Skaeling jarl. Styrbjorn barked a command, and his w arhounds dropped to their haunches, tails betw een their legs, though their unblinking eyes remained fixed on Zumarah.

'Once the bitch spaw ns the child, you w ill be taking it back to Skaeling lands, mark my w ords,' said the dwarf. 'If you do not deliver on your promise to me, I shall take my slaves from amongst your ow n people, starting with your bitch daughters.'

The shield-maidens Fraygerd and Hrefna, standing to either side of their father's throne, bristled. Hrefna half-drew her sword from her scabbard, her face tw isted in anger. The dwarf, standing only

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