Chapter XVIII:
Father's Slab
With wings like a condor’s, errandghosts circled the skies above that sea of the dead.
Most ettins fallen were accounted for by the errandghosts; those slain by Kurt underwater remained underwater, those slain by the vaighlings were left to rot on the warship.
They searched for survivors, in, over and under the sea.
An errandghost with long brown hair to his feet and a broadsword the same length as the hair, spotted one among the dead.
“There, its Kalendros’s child,” he said to his comrades.
He pointed his broadsword to a black hat resting upon a suit of glittering quickore armor.
A bald errandghost silently prayed.
“Is he alive,Peltwarder?” he asked the long-haired ghost.
“Yea, Skullwarder…he moves. But we must be swift. Come, let us take him now.”
The ghosts swooped down to the ship, encircling Kurt as he stood with Deathbrand like a mast planted into the deck.
The bald errandghost held up a black ettin skull and whispered silently to it.
The long haired ghost locked eyes with Kurt, saying, “Our orders are to take you to the Castle of Bloodfirth.”
“On whose orders?” said Kurt kneeling over Verity.
“Our King. Rammbock.”
“And what of him? Uthurs. Does he have any life left in him?” Kurt pointed to the antler crowned corpse nearby.
“That creature shall be buried in a tomb of ancient kings.” Skullwarder took up Uthurs Quarter-tongue’s body and lifted him up into the clouds.
“You next, Kurt Eisenforst,” said Peltwarder taking Kurt by the arm.
“And Verity…what burial will she receive?” asked Kurt.
Peltwarder looked to the broken remains of the Countess of Herrenhausen-west, sorrow in his eyes.
“She will be delivered to the Eldermark Maelstrom.”
Kurt cried out. “But why?! She was tormented, tortured by ettins for years…it wasn’t her choice to become that monstrosity!”
The errandghosts murmured.
One ghost as tall as an ettin picked up Verity, instantly disappearing skywards.
“Kurt Eisenforst, those inhabitats of the Eldermark are those fallen spirits who wished for deification…at any cost.
Much concerning the nature of these costs are secrets between them and their apegift Toll-Master. What is not a secret is that all of these transactions require an ultimate retirement to the Eldermark, though some have been spared.” Kurt cried again, “And why wasn't she spared?!"
"She would have been granted many mercies by the Spellgesith in her life...why she rejected them, we do not know."
Kurt shook his shead,muttering. "I see…”
“Do you truly see? No, there is much still that needs to be explained, I believe. Once we reach the Castle all will become clearer…”
Peltwarder and Kurt launched upwards and soared over the blood tinted sea.
An island was visible in its middle, a speck of land within the vast lake vanishing at the horizon.
“There is the island. As you see it is surrounded by the Maelstrom; an unending pool, twisting further and further beyond the worlds of man and ettin.
Kurt noticed the whirlpool, a massive series of coils all converging on the island speck, the Castle of Bloodfirth: the last hold-out against the Wildermark and her beasts.
“That, Kurt Eisenforst, circling the castle,is the Pit, the Chasm; that infinite pool of blood and bone where all men who seek godhood become swept in. That is the Hellfire you men speak of in your curses.”
Kurt marvelled at its scope.
“Is there actual fire?” he asked the ghost.
“Indeed, under the surface. It is the last border between men and the ettinland, as the ettins will not draw near it, believing they will be swallowed by its rings…and rightly so. That is their just fate if nothing is done to change course in their mad pursuits.”
“What about the vaighlings?” asked Kurt as they descended towards the sea.
Peltwarder shook his head, saying,“Those creatures have a nature unlike man or ettin. They die and are regenerated over and over through the hidden machinations of Orbaulker and his Master. They are Orbaulker's children in the sense that your fingers are separate from your hand. They are still the same hand…This nature though means that their head, the actor and father of them all is reserved a ring in the Blood Maelstrom. The father's plotting and politicking will soon enough lead him straight into the Pit.”
“How soon? Is he no longer a threat?” asked Kurt.
“No…he is. Though as a head, he is decapitated at the moment. Separated and weak, its only benefit being he is able to traverse the globe always, always watching, spying, murdering and extorting. But desperate for reunification and a swift end to this war, he is prophesied to return to the form he possessed in those earliest days on Earth, all his separated parts once more converging into a singular dreadful devil, his true form. As of yet, he has avoided a direct assault on the Castle, knowing Rammbock commands from there, but at this point he has been granted no other options than to meet our King’s face.”
“And he’ll be defeated right? I mean, Rammbock will easily destroy him from what I understand of his power..." said Kurt his eyes transfixed on the spiral below.
“He still prefers to fight Rammbock indirectly…through his servants. Strike fear first, make himself an object of divine awe to men, hiding in the shadows no longer and always assisted by that most cunning ghoul, Azza Unghost.”
Peltwarder pointed out into the distance. “There, Kurt…there! Do you see? Over the horizon, across the seas and hilltops, a black swarm of wings teeth and claw grow, red eyes like the stars above, gathering its parts, all those sons of Orbaulker, becoming one, one in body and mind and ghost. Orbaulker from his invisible fortress along the hot springs is the last to join them, lifting himself up into the heart of the beast, as a great Winged-Hobgoblin…he fast approaches.”
Over the horizon, the winged form of Orbaulker, its body like a zeppelin with a crimson face hovered, watching them.
His wings tight against his back, Peltwarder dived into the eye of the malestrom, upon the island fortress of Count Bloodfirth.
“Kurt…Old Kurt.” A distant voice clicked in Kurt’s quickore ear. “Kurt, don’t leave me here, Kurt, come on…”
Kurt yelled out in their fall. “Ghost, listen! That voice down there. Do you hear it?”
“Yes, Kurt Eisenforst.”
“Don’t leave me. Get me out of here!”
“It is your father…” said the errandghost stopping midair.
“It’s your Pa-pa…I’m in this…shit! Please, please…”
“I have to see him, Ghost. Take me down there.”
“He is lost to the Eldermark! There is no chance of escape!”
Kurt growled. “Then let me drop and visit him myself!!”
The Errandghost loosened his grip on Kurt. “Fine…you may see him.”
Down into the Maelstrom of blood and bone the two spiraled, to the domain of Carolus Eisenforst.
+++++
Red waves crashed onto the exposed back of a man, fettered to a slab. The slab was black, cold, sharp as obsidian at its edges.
His fetters were of the same mineral, the coveted marrow of ettins, the purest of eldermarkish ore.
“Carolus Eisenforst. You have called?” said Peltwarder hovering above the man, eclipsing the red sun.
“Ah, you heard my prayer…I heard, Kurt, heard that you killed that Herrenhausen freak…Pa-pa is proud. Pa-pa is----” Carolus howled in agony.
Plunged into his spine, a trident gripped by a skeleton, drove him fast into the slab.
“Hold your trap, Carolus,” rattled the trident bearer.
The trident bearer relinquished its pin and fell back into the water.
Kurt looked down on this father with pity.
More trident bearers emerged from the waves in the immediate vicinity, others fettered on pulver slabs receiving the same skewering as Carolus.
“Our wardens…” said Carolus, short of breath,“my errandghost…told me you were near…so...had to see you…son.”
“I buried you,” said Kurt sullenly.
Carolus's eyes bulged wide.
“And that damn skeleton dug me right up! Chained me right to this slab…I never wanted this…if only I could be free of this torment…can you do that, Junior…loosen my chains?”
“Then what Carolus? What would be your next move?” sounded Peltwarder.
“Then I would…kill the guy who did this to me…oh, I would murder him…his family, his friends…is that what you want me to say? Come on, I want to live in peace!”
“You’re dead though…” said Kurt.
“Am I? Do you see my blood, Junior? Hear my screams? I am here, alive and I deserve freedom!”
“Freedom to do as you had always done, moments before your death, even? Intent on killing your son? Only failing due to forces far outside your control?” countered Peltwarder.
“No! It was the Giant! Was that damned Mockwitch who made me do it! He wanted to have that sword stuck in the grove for himself! I tried to warn Junior…but I feel that he wasn’t properly disciplined…that is my fault…I did it the wrong way; I wasn’t always there for Junior. That’s my fault for not killing the Herrenhausens who kidnapped him and locked him up in that shithole county zone!”
“Anything more you wish to say? We must take our leave," said the errandghost.
“ '..Must take our leave'…who talks like that?? Godbedammed, yer annoying…I want to talk to my boy. Pa-pa needs yer help…I know you can’t unchain me…know he won’t let you…”
“Who won't?” asked Kurt as another trident plunged into a spine close by.
“Him. Rammbock. He’s only a man, don’t listen to the stories. Kill him, kill him for me, I’ve been tortured for so long…feels like and eternity...is there no justice? I've done my time!!! When you get to his place just kill him…swing your sword and be done with it…he’s died before anyhow. A walking corpse can’t be too hard to dismember…”
Kurt could smell his father's fetid breath.
“If you need some help...” said Carolus brushing Kurt’s neck, a patch of exposed above his armor's gorget.
Kurt gripped his neck as if he had been stabbed with an icy blade.
Peltwarder waved a hand in displeasure. “Enough, we’re done. Farewell, Carolus Eisenforst.”
The errandghost launched upwards again his great condor wings spread over the seas.
The giant red face of Orbaulker watched them from a mountaintop, grinning.
As they flew off towards the island of Castle Bloodfirth, Kurt heard again the howls and pleading of his father, gored upon the slab.
He wished more than anything for it to stop.