Schwartzbaum’s party made camp in a clearing somewhere in the Frauenwald. The party consisted of thirty-four horses, thirty-three men, and Alexandra. Once they decided to stop for the night, Schwartzbaum’s men quickly got to work building a crude defense perimeter around the campsite. Within two hours, a group of twenty men under Fahim’s supervision constructed an octagon-shaped cluster of fighting positions. These positions were little more than simple waist-high wooden walls and shallow earthworks. They would not be able to take much of a beating, but they would be able to provide some cover against projectiles. Each of the eight defensive positions would be manned at all times by two men during the night. Schwartzbaum’s men were divided into two shifts; one that would keep watch during the first half of the night and one that would keep watch during the second half.
As darkness began to fall, the forest began to take on a more sinister character. Soldiers constantly felt a pit grow in their stomachs as they saw what looked like a figure lurking on the periphery of the campsite. They would all then breathe a sigh of relief as they realized it was just a branch or odd-looking rock. None of them paid any attention to an owl perched on a branch high above them.
Shortly before going to bed, Schwartzbaum, Fahim, Ekkhardt, and Alexandra decided to pass the time by playing cards. They played poker with a deck of tarot cards1 and a set of painted wooden chips. Fahim shuffled the deck and passed out the cards. The game seemed to do little to change the group’s mood, so Alexandra decided to speak up.
“So, Fahim, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up working for Schwartzbaum?” she asked.
“Oh, well, your highness, it’s not much of a story. I was born in Mizraim, on the banks of the great Iteru2 river. My father had saved the life of the pasha of Mizraim some years prior, when we were attacked by invaders from the south. In a display of gratitude for his service, the pasha financed my education. I was sent to one of the best schools in Mizraimopolis, where I studied architecture, engineering, medicine and other things. I wanted to become an architect, but my family and I were forced to flee Mizraim when it was discovered that the pasha was plotting against the sultan. We ended up in Ibnathamra3. I needed work and I ended up finding it. I was hired as an engineer for their king,” Fahim explained. He then paused to take a sip from his flask.
“He was fighting a war in Iberistan, or what would eventually become Iberistan. The king wanted me to help him build siege engines. It paid well, though I’d rather be building walls than tearing them down. Anyways, as I’m sure you know, Ibnathamra ended up losing the war. The King of Iberistan crushed our army; completely routed us. The lucky ones managed to get on a boat and escape from the peninsula, but I got captured. Statistically speaking, I would have almost certainly ended up chained to an oar on a slave galley if it wasn’t for Schwartzbaum…” Fahim said only to be interrupted by Ekkehardt.
“Statistically? What do you mean by that?” he asked. Schwartzbaum sighed.
“Fahim, speak Alemanian…” He grumbled.
“Sorry sir. I mean to say that I would have most likely ended up chained to an oar on a slave galley if it wasn’t for Schwartzbaum.” Fahim reiterated. He then picked up where he left off.
“Schwartzbaum had fought for Iberistan during the war and was rather impressed by the siege engines I made. He also didn’t have a problem working with a Samudaayian.” Fahim explained.
“Well, it was actually that and the fact that your predecessor had a spear run through him during the last siege…” Schwartzbaum added.
“Anyways, after I was hired by Schwartzbaum, I quickly started learning Alemanian and went to work all over the continent. We were able to keep our profits high for the first few years, but work started getting harder and harder to come by. The system of alliances the emperor set up over the course of the last decade has created an unusual period of peace on the continent. We had to spend a couple of years hunting down bandits for pocket change. A lot of men decided to not renew their contracts and we began to hemorrhage personnel. We probably would have had to disband if the boss didn’t get us a contract with the count,” Fahim explained.
“That’s something I was wondering about,” Ekkehardt chimed in, “How is the count able to afford having a mercenary company around?”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“It’s simple really, we don’t have much in the way of options right now, so we’re willing to take what we can get. The pay is sub-optimal, but there is always a high enough threat level to justify our presence. Before we came here we had to travel from country to country looking for bandits to hunt down or villagers to pacify, but here we have steady work. Of course, if another war breaks out somewhere on the continent then we will leave the moment our contract expires.” Fahim explained before stopping to take a sip from his flask.
“Personally, I think that the next large conflict will be Iberistan invading Ibnathamra, but I’ve never been much of a fortune-teller…” He concluded. There was a brief silence that was only broken by Ekkehardt speaking up.
“So, this is unrelated, but do either of you know exactly why the villagers are afraid of this forest?” He asked. Schwartzbaum and Fahim looked at each other for a moment.
“Well…” Fahim began, “I highly doubt the veracity of what I’m about to say, but I talked to an old hunter in the village yesterday. He told me that everyone thought that a witch lived in this forest a long time ago; before the murders,” he explained.
“I think Althaus said something similar…” Alexandra added.
“The hunter told me that he had a friend, who was also a hunter. This friend told him that he had seen this witch in the flesh,” Fahim began.
“Oh really? Althaus never mentioned anything about this?” Alexandra responded.
“Well, I only know what I’ve been told,” Fahim replied, “Anyways, the hunter’s friend was once wandering this forest. It was a year or two after the end of the Time of Red Snow. Things had improved, but they were still not good. The friend was determined not to go home until he had killed enough game to feed his family. He stalked this forest under a cloudy night sky with no moon or stars. He came upon a small pond in the middle of the forest. At first he thought it would be a good place to lie in wait for a deer, but he quickly discovered that he was not alone. In the middle of the pond, waist deep in water, there was a beautiful woman. The friend would describe her to the hunter I spoke as ‘angelic’; unlike any woman that he had ever seen in his life,” Fahim narrated before pausing to take a sip from his flask.
“The hunter’s friend was awestruck by her before he even saw her face. She was so beautiful that he couldn’t speak up or move. He just watched her on the periphery of the pond as she bathed. He said that she had long brown hair and perfect, marble-white skin. When she turned around he saw her alluring face and blue eyes, but she didn’t see him. For this brief moment, he was completely infatuated with her. She was an enigma to him. Why was she here? What is she doing? He said that he wanted to speak up or reveal himself; do something that might make him something other than a voyeur and potential threat, but he couldn’t. In that moment he was overcome with intense lust and longing, but couldn’t bring himself to act. Then everything changed. There was a break in the cloud cover and in an instant the butterflies in his stomach and rigidity in his manhood was replaced by ice in his blood and the specter of vomit in his throat. The woman had transformed into something foul and unspeakable. The hunter’s friend was once again frozen, but this time from fear. He stiffened like a statue as he tried to process what had just happened. Then, the creature looked in his general direction and, in a raspy voice, it asked ‘Who’s there?’” Fahim narrated, doing his best impression of Schwartzbaum to illustrate the creature’s voice. He then took yet another sip from his flask before continuing.
“The man dropped his bow and bolted from the pond. Everything became a blur as he sprinted through the forest. He didn’t even make a conscious effort to return to the village, he just ran. He didn’t remember much of what happened next. He was found by a farmer the next day; passed out in a wheatfield. His clothes were torn, his lips were chapped, his feet were blistered, his eyes were bloodshot, and his face and arms were covered in scratches from thorns and branches. It was only after receiving food and medical care when he told his story to the hunter. He made a full recovery, but he never went into the forest after dark ever again…” Fahim concluded. For a moment, there was silence.
“Well, congratulations Fahim, now nobody in this camp is going to get any sleep…” Schwarzbaum remarked. He then sighed.
“Isn’t it time for us to reveal our hands?” He then asked. Fahim decided to reveal his hand first.
“Not my best day. All I got is a high card: The Tower,” He said with a sigh.
“I got one pair: Nine of Swords and The Hermit,” Ekkehardt announced. Schwartzbaum went next.
“Two pairs: Ace of Swords, Ace of Wands, Eight of Swords, and Eight of Wands…” He said. The group then turned to Alexandra, who began to lay out her cards one by one.
“Nine of Cups… Ten of Wands… Page of Coins… Knight of Cups… and… Death!” She proclaimed. Fahim and Ekkehardt nodded in approval.
“Nice one, your highness,” Fahim congratulated.
“I never knew you were good at poker,” Ekkehardt remarked.
“I think I just got lucky,” Alexandra replied. The group then put away the cards and the chips before laying down to sleep.
Alexandra took one last look into the dark forest before closing her eyes. She fought a desperate battle in her mind as she tried to keep herself from dwelling on Fahim’s story. Alexandra knew she had to focus on the day ahead, but she couldn’t stop herself from reaching the same conclusion over and over again: If she knew that there were two monsters in the Frauenwald, then why can’t there be a third?