—EINSAM GESCHICHTENERZÄHLER

A crowd of thousands stood before Erbrechen. He looked them over appraisingly. This was no gathering of the weak unwashed. These were warriors, dangerous, each and every one.

"Well, well, well. This is handy indeed," he said.

A short scrawny woman with yellowy eyes, a sickly complexion, and teeth that made him want to avert his gaze stepped forward. A c.o.c.ky-looking dandy with a matched pair of swords peeking over his broad shoulders stood at her side, as perfectly beautiful as she was hideous.

The woman spat at Erbrechen's feet. "And how is this handy, you jiggling puddle of fat?"

Erbrechen smiled his best innocent and disarming smile. "Why, to have you all waiting. Though I've caused my share of death, I never expected so many."

"He thinks we're waiting for him," the dandy said to the woman.

"It doesn't really matter who you're waiting for," Erbrechen said gleefully. "You're here, and now so am I. You are mine. You are all mine. You love me, don't you."

Stehlen killed the fat slug, spinning a knife into an eye socket, before he annoyed her further.

"Why did you kill him?" Wichtig asked. "He seemed nice."

"Idiot. Bedeckt killed him."

"So?"

"So I didn't want to listen to him prattling on about himself while we wait. It's bad enough I have to listen to your inane drivel."

"Inane?"

"Ask Bedeckt what it means. And look how big the fat sow is. No way he . . . she . . . it can walk far. Someone would have had to carry it."

Wichtig examined the fat slug. "What a corpulent corpse," he said, das.h.i.+ng a smirk at Stehlen.

She rolled her eyes. "I watched you think that one up. Your face gets all scrunchy when you're concentrating."

"Is he going to be long?" Wichtig asked, ignoring her.

She pointed downhill. "He's lying in the mud there."

Wichtig glanced in the direction she pointed. "Just looks like a big pile of dirt."

"It's him."

"Shall we say h.e.l.lo?"

She turned and strode down the hill without answering and heard Wichtig follow behind.

"What are you going to do?" he called out. "Are you going to kill him?"

Truth be told, she wasn't sure.

Bedeckt lay in quiet peace. A soft breeze smelling of fresh clover caressed his skin. Nothing hurt, a blessed relief. The wind tickled the toes of his left foot. d.a.m.n. Where had he left his boot?

The left boot. s.h.i.+te. The one with the money in it.

A boot nudged Bedeckt in the ribs.

"What is it with you and losing your boots?"

Wichtig's voice. No, couldn't be. Wichtig was—

Bedeckt cracked an eye open and looked up at Stehlen and Wichtig. The two stared down at him, Wichtig looking c.o.c.ky as always, Stehlen . . . he wasn't sure what her expression was.

"You going to lie in the gra.s.s all day?" Stehlen asked.

"I expected a lot more people," said Bedeckt, not moving.

"They're up the hill, waiting," she answered, gesturing with a flick of fingers. "Seems you've got a b.l.o.o.d.y army gathered here."

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Bedeckt wiggled his toes. They felt fine, not at all like they'd been charred to the bone. "Morgen?" he asked.

"Nowhere to be seen," answered Wichtig. "He's dead?" When Bedeckt nodded, he continued. "But I feel no compulsion. I had to come here, and here I am. But it's gone now. I feel . . . free." Wichtig looked confused, as if this wasn't what he'd hoped for or expected. "I can go wherever I want," finished the Swordsman.

"Morgen must have released you," said Bedeckt.

"Could he do that?" asked Stehlen, her eyes lighting with hope.

Ignoring the question, Bedeckt sat up with a groan. His spine popped and cracked and his lower back ached. Somehow he'd thought he'd be starting again here, a young man at the very least. He glanced up at Stehlen; she watched him with intense yellowy eyes.

"Forget it," said Bedeckt, pus.h.i.+ng to his feet. "If I release you, you'll kill me for sure."

"I might not."

"Right," scoffed Wichtig, who fell silent when Stehlen glared in his direction.

"Stehlen, go fetch me some boots and an ax from the army over there. Someone must have something that will fit."

She spun away with a growl and he called, "Wait!"

Stehlen stood with her back to him, shoulders hunched. Bedeckt thought about what his father had said. Did she really love him? Had she really let him kill her? The possibility seemed crazy, but then it was Stehlen.

"I have something for you," he said.

"My freedom?" she growled.

"Uh . . . no. Not yet. Maybe later, once I think you won't kill me the very second I free you." Why is this so d.a.m.ned awkward? He felt like a d.a.m.ned teenager. Bedeckt drew the ragged and faded scarves from his pocket and held them out to her still-turned back. "These."

She turned with a snarl and stopped. The anger disappeared from her eyes, replaced by a look Bedeckt had never expected to see there. Tears welled up and she brushed them roughly away with a stained sleeve. Gently she took the scarves from his hand, folded them lovingly, and hid them back inside her s.h.i.+rt.

"This is yours too," said Bedeckt, lifting the knife he still clutched in his hand.

She took it without a word and it too disappeared into her clothing. "I'll go get your d.a.m.ned boots and ax," she said.

Stehlen spat on his bare foot, spun, and marched away, spine straight. Wichtig and Bedeckt watched her leave, exchanging confused glances.

"Where are you going now?" Bedeckt asked.

"No idea," said Wichtig. "Got quite the little army of my own, though nothing like what you and Stehlen have between you."

"In a straight fight I might give your lot the edge," said Bedeckt. "You've got a lot of excellent Swordsmen." Wichtig preened and Bedeckt let him have his moment. "Mine are mostly people I killed from behind in the dark or during drunken brawls. A sorry-looking lot."

"Greatest Swordsman in the Afterdeath," mused Wichtig. "Not quite the same ring, but it'll do."

"And that pursuit turned out well," said Bedeckt before he could stop himself. "Sorry. You're not going to start over? Not going to try something different?"

Wichtig snorted derisively. "And do what? Farm?"

"You were a pretty good poet," said Bedeckt.

"No. I am who I am."

"Good. I need the old Wichtig. I need the Greatest Swordsman in This or Any Other World."

"You have a plan?" Wichtig asked, showing perfect teeth in a wide grin. "A little something up your sleeve?"

"Better." Bedeckt met Wichtig's grin with his own. "I killed a G.o.d."