The Wewelsburg
17th June RY154
There are certain sounds that you would really prefer not to hear drifting through the windows of your "sick room" at three in the afternoon. An explosion followed by gunfire definitely fits into that category.
"Report, Linden?"
He listened to his ear bug then looked up at me.
"Apparently a small group of armed individuals appeared in the courtyard, set off some kind of a magical attack, and are now headed in this direction."
Now? I wasn't expecting any trouble for four more days. Unless Kessler had realised that I was observing his deliberations and had either advanced his timetable, or fed me false information. And how the Hell had they jumped into the castle?
"Strength?"
"Twelve, including at least one battle mage."
"Identification?"
"None as yet, sir."
"Uniforms?"
"Civilian clothes, sir."
"Assessment?"
"Standartenführer Schultz believes they're here for you, Herr Reichsführer."
I let out a string of curses and headed for the dressing room to quickly pull on some clothes, as I was damned if I was going to have to fight for my life in pyjamas. A man has some pride. As I returned to the main bedroom, I saw that Rikart had joined us.
"I recommend that you stay in here, Herr Reichsführer," he said as he saw me, "it's another layer of protection they're going to need to get through to get to you."
"To Hell with that, Schultz," I answered, arming myself with sword and handgun, "if they're here to kill me, then I'm going to meet them standing."
"What about your intention to stay low until the Solstice?"
"I suspect that after this, we'll be lucky if that particular cat isn't firmly out of the bag. But we'll see."
"I believe this is an inadvisable course of action, Herr Reichsführer," he said, formally.
"So noted, Standartenführer Schultz," I replied.
He looked at me, well aware that I wasn't going to change my mind, and then nodded.
"Yes sir."
He then broke off to listen to comms.
"They've made it to this floor. The Aurellians are engaging them, but it sounds as if things aren't going well. The rest of the Honour Guard are on their way."
"Any indication why the castle garrison isn't getting involved?"
"They are, sir. There was an initial magical attack against those posted in the courtyard when the attackers arrived. It stunned or injured many, and since then, the invaders have been cutting through them. They're just not in the same league as either the Aurellians or the Honour Guard."
"Any more idea of who they are yet?"
"No, sir. But apparently they seem unnaturally well co-ordinated."
Unnaturally well co-ordinated...?
"Machine?"
"Not impossible, sir."
"Those fuckers just don't know when to stop," I cursed.
We headed out into the main lounge, where Radulf, Eppler, Waldemar and Geiger were already forming a perimeter. No sign of Karsten and the others, but outside I could hear the sounds of combat, both mundane and magical.
"Shall we join them?" I asked.
"No sir," Schultz answered, firmly, "here we can control access, and Jorge's wards offer us some protection."
"Do we know where he is?"
"En route up here at last comms."
"Let's hope he's in time."
Radulf, Eppler and Waldemar all had firearms ready and trained towards the doorway, while Schultz, Linden and Geiger had swords in hand, just in case, and positioned themselves between me and the door. In the meantime, Rikart was monitoring comms, and his expression was becoming bleaker by the moment.
"It's not good, sir," he commented, "Heinrike reports that four of the Aurellians are down plus Bremen, Berens and Wolfram."
"Casualties on their side?"
"Three down, nine still active.
We were getting our arses whipped.
"And sir, it sounds as if they've identified the leader as Andreas Delatz."
I cursed roundly, then demanded "Location?"
"They have the centre of the corridor. We have them boxed in that area, but they're fighting without apparent care for their own safety, which gives them the edge. I really recommend that you withdraw to the bedroom, sir."
"Not happening," I answered, firmly, and he gave a resigned nod of acknowledgement.
"Incoming," he answered. Radulf, Eppler and Waldemar brought their weapons up, and as the first figure appeared in the doorway, they opened fire. Initially, it looked as if he staggered back. However, almost immediately a storm of ricochets started bouncing around the room. Either he was completely immune to the effects of bullets, or he was packing some exceptionally strong personal wards. Realising their danger, as while all the Guard have their own wards, they can only stand up to so much, they ceased fire.
"Hello, Rupert," came the cold, quiet and far too familiar voice of the man in the doorway, and as he stepped forward, sword in hand, I could see he was flanked by two others, "not comatose after all, I see."
"Andreas."
To the side, Radulf, Eppler and Waldemar were changing weapons and moving in, while Schultz and the others put themselves between myself and our attackers. Outside, the sounds of combat continued, interspersed with occasional explosions. However, nothing seemed to be touching the three men in front of us.
"You've caused me some trouble, Herr Reichsführer," he said, fixing me with cold, cold eyes.
"Apparently not enough, given that you're standing in my doorway."
He smiled, and took another step forwards, and as he did, I could see that his guards were both armed with machine guns, swords at their belts. And then I saw their faces, and recognised Schultz staring back at us twice over. Near me, I felt Rikart tense, and his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.
"Why don't you ask the Guard to drop their weapons, Rupert," Andreas said calmly, obviously amused at our reaction to his companions, "I'm willing to spare them. It's you I want."
"Stand firm," Rikart ordered his people.
"Ah, Schultz," Andreas said, looking at him, with an expression that could freeze blood, "always the loyal fool. Why do you give yourself heart and soul to this betrayer? You have so much more potential than that."
Rikart remained silent, his expression stony.
"Never mind," Andreas continued, and looked back at me, taking another step forwards. Now all three of them were in the room with us, although we had the better position, "Save them, Rupert. Order them to stand down."
"I'm afraid I don't feel inclined to do that," I answered.
"Then their blood is on your hands," he said, with a smile, and at an unspoken signal, his men loosed a burst of gunfire, liberally spraying the room and causing us to duck for cover. I felt half a dozen bullets ping off my own shields, but thankfully they held. There are, after all, benefits to being God of Protection. Then, while we were staggered, they dropped the firearms, drew their blades and waded in. Their movements were co-ordinated in a way that my own group's were not, as if they fought with one mind, which meant that they were relatively more efficient despite their inferior numbers. Assuming they still had inferior numbers: I didn't have time to take stock of how many of the Honour Guard got back up again after the bullets stopped flying.
Andreas moved directly towards me, murder in his eyes, and I thanked the gods that I'd been taking instruction from Rikart, otherwise I would have been toast on that initial attack. And as it was Andreas got the first blow in. While his blade was slowed by my wards, it still got through, and I felt it cut into the inside of my left thigh. Blood began to well, and I realised he'd been trying to clip my femoral artery. However, from the lack of spray, I guessed the blow hadn't been true.
Out in the corridor, I became aware of the sound of multiple small objects whistling through the air, but had no time to process what that meant. I staggered back, and before Andreas could press the attack, Rikart was between him and me, and fighting better than I'd ever seen him fight before. Perhaps he'd also benefited from our sojourn away. I threw a healing spell at myself, to try to stop the blood flow, and then re-engaged. Individually, Andreas was better than either of us, but against the pair of us, even with me favouring my leading leg, things were less clear cut. However, I couldn't help being concerned that none of the other Honour Guard in the room were moving in to assist.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone else appear in the doorway - uniformed, so one of us, rather than one of the invaders, assuming it wasn't one of Kessler's assassins taking advantage of the situation - and I felt a draw on my Aurellian aspect. Jorge? Then Rikart executed a move against Andreas which was so fast that I couldn't follow what he did, but resulted in our attacker staggering back, blood welling from a wound in his chest.
Blood?
I was barely aware of Rikart crumpling to the ground as I watched Andreas in horrified fascination, his sword covered in red, just like the liquid now soaking into his shirt.
Blood?
The last time I'd seen him he certainly hadn't been bleeding red.
Almost simultaneously, I heard three shots ring out from the doorway. Andreas took the impacts in the back, and I narrowly avoided being hit by the through and throughs as he fell towards me.
"Get the fuck out of here, you bastards, and never come back," came a weak voice from beside me, and I felt power behind it. Power of a kind I recognised only to well, given what had happened at Beltane.
The Master of the Machine - if it was the Master of the Machine - disappeared before my eyes, and an eerie silence descended on the room. I flipped my attention to the source of the voice, to see Rikart lying on his side, partially eviscerated. He'd sacrificed himself to get that in that final hit on Andreas, giving the shooter the opening to take him down. I knelt down beside him, and felt for a pulse. Thready, uneven, but still there. I heard him frantically trying to take a breath, but from the sound of it, one or both of his lungs were too full of blood for it to have any effect.
"Damn you, you young fool," I hissed, angrily, and threw a stasis spell around him. It would hold for now, but if he didn't get medical attention pronto, it wasn't going to save him.
"Are you alright, sir?" came a voice from off to the left, and I got back to my feet, to take in the room.
Radulf and Waldemar were still vertical, and from the way they were moving I had the impression that the majority of the blood on their uniforms belonged to someone else, although Radulf was favouring his left arm. Eppler was down, and looked as if she'd been all but cut in half by the initial spray of bullets; Linden's head looked to be lying several inches from the rest of his body; and Geiger was leaning against the upturned settee with his eyes closed, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds. From that distance, I couldn't tell if he was still alive, but I threw a stasis spell in his direction just in case. Klieburg was standing in the doorway, his usual suave self, his service weapon still in his right hand, hanging loose at his side.
"Still breathing, thank you, Marius," I answered, "by the gods what a fucking mess." Then I turned to Jorge. "Where's Karsten?"
"Making sure the area is secure with Sturmbannführer Otho and Kommandant Lange."
"She's finally shown her face has she?"
"She was organising the garrison during the initial attack," he answered, "but once the invaders reached this floor, Sturmbannführer Karsten told her that we could handle it."
"This is some strange new definition of 'handled'," I commented, coldly, "butcher's bill?"
"Uncertain at this point."
"Fuck Andreas to Hell anyway."
"Hopefully for at least twelve months," Jorge answered, with a half smile.
"How did you get past his wards?"
"I felt the God of Protection needed protecting more, and made sure that his own weren't up to the task."
"Where are the drones?" I asked, looking at Radulf.
"They disappeared with Andreas," he answered, "however, by then they were both down. I got one of them, Marius decapitated the other. It was pretty disturbing though...they looked just like Standartenführer Schultz."
"So I noticed. Are you hurt?"
"Nothing that won't heal."
"Good."
"What now, sir?" Waldemar asked.
"Now, I need to make a Trump call," I answered, and brought to mind the image of Dominik Gerlinde. While I still wasn't entirely certain what his plans and motivations were, the fact that he hadn't been at Kessler's house party gave me cause for optimism. His face was a picture of surprise when he answered the call.
"Herr Reichsführer?"
"I need you Dominik. Now."
Without arguing he extended his hand to me, and stepped through.
"But..."
"Later," I snapped, "Niklaus, Marius, no one comes in until I say so."
"Including Sturmbannführer Karsten?"
"For now. Jorge, go and see how she's doing. Get me a status report."
"Yes, Herr Reichsführer," he answered, and headed out. Radulf and Waldemar followed him, taking up positions outside the door. That left Dominik, myself and our patients alone in the room.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Andreas Delatz happened," I replied, "or at least, someone who looked a Hell of a lot like him. However, that can wait. For now, see if there's anything you can do for Kurt. I'll see to Rikart."
"I'll need you to take the stasis off."
I nodded, and gestured to Geiger, and then Dominik moved across to see to him. I sterilised my hands magically, then knelt back down beside Rikart and released the stasis on him as well. Then I seized control of his inherent shape shifting with my own, and started bending it to my wishes. What I had to do was quick and dirty, but it was about the only chance he had. First, I made sure that the damaged intestines were sealed, and then gently placed them back inside his body, before closing the wound externally. I cast a cleansing spell on him, in the hope that it would at least delay the onset of septicaemia from the dirt, but the whole of his abdomen was going to need some serious work. Next, I moved my magical and shifting senses towards his lungs. The blow had cut up through his rib cage, and pierced the left, and I took a few minutes to seal the injury and then drain it of blood.
I checked his vital signs, and while his pulse was still weak, at least it seemed to have stabilised. Moreover, his breathing now sounded more normal. He was probably safe to move to the infirmary.
"How are you doing?" I called over to Dominik, whose arms looked to be up to their elbows in Geiger's chest cavity.
"He's going to live. Two missed anything vital, one ended up in his liver, which I've removed and healed, and the fourth got him in the chest, shattering ribs and forcing the debris into his lungs. That's what I'm working on now. It doesn't help that he isn't a shifter, though...I'm having to do everything for him. Schultz?"
"Alive for now. We'll see. Do you need a hand?"
"Wouldn't hurt."
I stood, using magic to clean away any traces of Schultz's blood from my hands, and effectively resterilise them, and then went to join Dominik. Between us, we soon had Geiger's lungs cleared and reinflated, and the broken ribs were set and healing.
We both pulled back, and I remained kneeling for a short while, resting my hands on my knees, and taking the time to centre and breathe. I was tired and hungry, but I suppose both were to be expected.
"You look awfully lively for a coma patient," Gerlinde commented, as he helped me to my feet, hands still covered in blood, "how long have you been conscious?"
"Local time or personal?" I answered, as I tried to do some cursory cleaning up. Flesh I could do magically, but the blood on my clothing was more than any laundry spell was going to deal with.
"Either? Both?"
"June 1st, and about three months."
"So you've been awake all this time? And just played dead when I came in to treat you. You had me worried sick when your condition didn't seem to be improving. Why didn't you tell me?"
"It was necessary."
"Necessary?" he exclaimed, angrily, "what the fuck is going on, sir?"
"I've been intelligence gathering on the Knights Council."
"Excuse me?"
"Rikart and Conrad told me what happened in Council when I was first incapacitated. So I wanted to see how serious the problem was and gauge who I can trust."
"You trusted Schultz and Berthelmes, but not me," he answered, his expression belligerent.
"They arrested me in the Crypt when I first woke up. So by definition, they already knew I was conscious."
"Excuse me?"
"It's a long story, Dominik. And I promise that you'll have it sooner rather than later. However, for now..."
"Who else knew?"
"The Honour Guard, Frida and Jorge."
"So even Klieburg is higher in your estimations than I am," he answered, angrily.
"He's a Priest of Protection. I didn't need to tell him. He knew the moment I came around. In fact, the only thing I'm surprised at is that Silke didn't tell you, as I imagine she realised around the same time that he did."
"I haven't spoken with Silke in some time," he replied, and for a moment I thought I read longing in his face. But it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, and his usual hardness was back.
"I'm sorry, Dominik."
"Apparently she can't get past the fact that we were born siblings...even if that's genetically no longer the case."
"A pity. Knowing how you used to feel about each other, I'd hoped that I was helping you both."
He shrugged, but chose not to answer.
"I need for you to swear to me that you won't tell anyone that you've seen me. If my secret isn't out yet - and I think it may still be intact, even after this bloodbath, as thus far the only other person who's seen me walking is you - it needs to stay secret until after the Summer Solstice."
"Why?"
"Because one way or the other, it will all be over by the morning of the 22nd."
He looked at me, hurt in his eyes that I hadn't trusted him before.
"I am your sworn vassal. You know I will keep your secret. You know I would have kept it before."
"I had to be sure," I replied, "now, arrange for Rikart and Kurt to be taken the infirmary, and as there are likely to be other casualties, I'm going to need for you to co-ordinate with Fraulein Doktor Steinbrück."
"Yes sir. And what are you doing?"
"If there's the slightest chance that was I was planning is still viable, I need to stay here incommunicado. You are now one of the group I'm using as my arms and legs."
"I understand, Herr Reichsführer."
As he headed out of the room, presumably to organise for transport for the injured down to the infirmary, Jorge passed him in the hallway. The timing could have been better, but at least they didn't try to kill each other on sight. I righted the settee, which had been overturned in the fight, and then sat down, pleased to get the weight off my injured leg. I'd need to heal it properly, but just then I was too damned tired.
"Sir?" Jorge said as he came in.
"Report," I replied, indicating for him to sit on one of the other chairs.
"All the hostiles are gone," he replied, as he perched on one of the chair arms.
"Do we know how?"
"It's as if they disappeared into thin air. No blood. No body parts. Just gone. But more importantly, we know how they got in."
"I was wondering..."
"A Pattern jump into the courtyard, landing close to the access up to the Knights' quarters. They knew the layout."
"Not a surprise if it was Andreas."
"You don't sound certain about that. Although it sure as Hell looked like him to me."
"He was bleeding, Jorge. Last time I saw him, he leaked, but he didn't bleed."
"A new model, perhaps? We know they've been getting better at producing drones which can pass for human...and it would explain how they could operate here, given the restrictions on Machine technology."
"But it doesn't explain how they could use a Pattern jump to get here," I answered, "and the fact that his close protection was patterned on Rikart bothers me greatly...Andreas has a nasty sense of humour. Do we know what the final casualties are?"
"Twenty of the garrison were killed or injured in the initial explosion...it was some kind of over-powered stun blast, as far as I can tell. Of Otho's people, two are dead and four injured. From what I observed during the fighting, it looked as if they were secondary objectives to the attackers."
"And the Guard?"
"It's not good, sir. Eppler, Berens, Bremen, Ulrich and Linden are dead. Schultz, Wolfram, Geiger, Dietrich and Harman are injured, and possibly Radulf as well, although he hasn't reported to the infirmary yet. Dietrich and Harman are at least walking wounded, and Doktor Steinbrück is confident they'll be fit in short order. The Guard were specifically targeted by the drones while Andreas and his companions bullied their way up here."
The list was sobering. Even excluding Dietrich, Harman and Radulf, the Guard had taken 50% casualties, dead and injured, and I didn't relish the letters of condolence I was going to have to write to their families. Come for that, I should probably write to the families of Otho's men as well...I was going to have to get the details from him if we made it through the Summer Solstice.
"By the gods we got our backsides handed to us on this one," I said, quietly, "what happened in the corridor?"
"Karsten, Otho and I co-operated, and filled it with flying razor blades. Our folks knew they were coming and dropped, which let me throw a ward over them to protect them. The bad guys didn't and ended up with their torsos blended, and then we disintegrated the blades so they wouldn't damage anyone else."
"But there are no bodies?"
"No."
"What the Hell happened?" I muttered, as much to myself as him, "How did they recall?"
And then I remembered what Schultz had said, as he lay dying on the floor.
"Rikart's death curse sent them away."
"He isn't dead," he answered, puzzled, "or wasn't a few minutes ago."
"Ah, but that's the thing about 'death' curses," I replied, "they have to be pronounced before death, and the caster has to be aware enough to do it. Otherwise, no curse. Rikart was dying...indeed, may yet succumb to his injuries, as he's still in a very bad way...and therefore he could pronounce a valid curse..."
"What did he say?"
"If I remember rightly, 'Get the fuck out of here, you bastards, and never come back'. I'm not even sure he realised what he was doing, but there they were gone. Gods know where they ended up, although thanks to the pair of you I can't imagine that Andreas will be feeling too healthy, wherever it is."
"It's a pity we didn't get to keep any of the bodies for analysis."
"Yes. But on the other hand, at least we're here to regret it."
There was a knock at the door, and Waldemar poked his head around the door jamb.
"Sturmbannführer Karsten is here, sir."
"Send her in," I answered, then turned to Jorge, "keep an eye on things for now, especially Kommandant Lange. I'll have orders for you in the morning."
"Yes, sir," he replied, then stood, saluted and headed out as Karsten came in. She looked tired, and there was blood on her uniform, but at least she seemed to be in one piece.
"What the Hell happened?" I demanded, angrily, "what's this about you telling the garrison commander that the Honour Guard could 'handle it'?"
She met my fury bravely, looking me in the eye as she spoke.
"I noticed a certain amount of reluctance from Kommandant Lange to get involved after the initial explosion, despite the fact that the castle was very obviously under attack. Yes, she was going through the motions, but her heart didn't seem to be in it once she realised where they were heading. And as I knew she was on your list of potential conspirators, I didn't want to give her the opportunity to try anything in the confusion."
"How many more did we lose because of that? Greater numbers defending the Knights' wing would have spread the casualties, rather than the Guard taking a disproportionate amount of them."
"Herr Reichsführer. That's what we sign on to do. Protect you at all costs. And in my assessment, even if there had been more garrison troops involved in the fighting, the attackers would still have targeted the Guard. Maybe they wouldn't have got quite as many of us, but they would have tried."
It tied up with what Jorge had said earlier: Andreas had obviously wanted to take out those loyal to me, as well as myself. Which led me to the awkward question of whether he had somehow been in contact with Kessler to arrange things. I hadn't seen any indications of such a contact in my investigations, but a severely weakened Honour Guard could only help Kessler's plans, as there was no way the casualties could be replaced before the Solstice.
"Dammit," I said, to no-one in particular.
"Is Standartenführer Schultz going to make it?"
"I hope so, but it's early to tell. However, Geiger should be fine in a few days. I haven't seen Wolfram to make an assessment."
"Sir," said Radulf, from the doorway, "Sturmbannführer Otho and Kommandant Lange just came onto the floor. What do you want to do?"
"I suppose I'd better make myself scarce," I replied, pushing myself up to my feet, "Heinrike, you're running the Guard until we know one way or the other what's happening with Rikart."
"Orders?"
"First, make sure our dead are taken care of. Once this is all over, we can say goodbye to them in the proper manner. Then, orders as before if we can, although if you or any of the Guard get any inkling that my cover has been blown, inform me immediately. If you need Otho to bring in reinforcements, then do it. Oh, and if Otho and Lange demand to come in and see if my comatose body is still breathing, then try to put them off for a few minutes until we can prove that it is."
"Yes, Herr Reichsführer."
I headed back into my bedroom, noticeably limping as my thigh stiffened up, and shut the door behind me. I stripped off my bloody clothes, throwing them into the basket in the bathroom, and then made myself presentable: ie, how they would expect to see me. And sure enough, about five minutes later, I heard the door open, and Karsten's voice reassuring my visitors that I was still alive, if not entirely well. Otho seemed relieved. Lange said nothing.
About ten minutes later they departed and with a sigh of relief I climbed back out of bed and headed for the bathroom. The idea of a long soak held immense appeal to me just then, and damn the potential to blow things. I was just settling into the warm, gentle water when the bathroom door opened. I looked over, reaching towards the handgun I'd placed on the side of the bath, just in case, but I relaxed when I saw Frida in the doorway.
"Are you alright, Ertti?" she asked, quietly, crossing to me and kneeling beside the bath.
"I will be," I replied, catching myself rubbing my injured leg subconsciously. Food, then healing. "Although I could eat a horse. By the gods, this is going down as one of my most memorable birthdays, for all the wrong reasons."
"I could arrange for something to eat to be sent up, if you wanted," she said, then touched my face and ran her hand down my neck to the shoulder, and added mischievously, "unless you want me to arrange for something else?"
"Damn you woman, you could tempt a saint" I answered, and lifted my left arm, wrapping it round her neck, before pulling her lips down to mine.