Night time, at camp on the road to Mosul, 1240
“I knew you would come back.” Henry murmured, staring at the black cloaked figure in the shadows. The figure bowed gently.
“Is it time?” Henry asked faintly, but he knew the answer already. The strength was leaving his body. He had a high fever and his bed was drenched with sweat.
“You always were a disappointment, Henry.” said the figure. Henry’s mind felt numbed and in his stupor he could not tell if the harsh voice of the intruder was that of his pagan magician or his father. “You came all this way to the East. You could have established an Empire from the Pyrenees to Alexandria. And what did you do? Gave Jerusalem to a jumped up priest and tried to block all further expansion. This is not the destiny of the Reich. This is a mere interruption. And it must end.”
Henry closed his eyes. “You are wrong, Kolar …” he started, but the words would not come.
The intruder limped out of the shadows and continued vindictively: “You have just lived long enough to see it start to unravel. The true nature of the Reich is re-asserting itself. Ambitious young men are replacing the foolish and dying old guard. They strain at the restraints you seek to impose on them and soon will break free. Ulrich Hummel’s election confirms it. You tried to use all your influence to stop him, but you failed.”
The figure stepped back. “But you do not know the extent of your failure. Do you think I work alone?”
Henry was gasping for breath. “Hashshashins…”
“Yes, yes, I use the Hashshashins on occasion. They were the ones who supplied that nice cake you ate this evening, by the way. That talented Syrian cook you hired?” the figure smiled: “A mean chef by day, but one of their master assassins by night”.
The intruder paused and continued on his aside, as if he had all the time in the world: “You would not believe how hard it was to persuade the Old Man of the Mountains to authorise your assassination. He actually thought he owed you a favour for defeating the Horse Lords. The Mongols have done a more effective job of clamping down on the cult than ever you or the Egyptians did. But now the Horse Lords are back and anyway, I convinced the Old Man that the crusaders were the true long term threat.”
The dark figure reigned himself in and turned back to Henry: “But no, when I referred to my partners, I did not mean the Hashshashins. I no more work with them than I work with my horse or my servant. I use them and in return I pay them their exorbitant fees. No, I speak not of the Hashshashins but rather of my associates - a group of like minded men, who work behind the scenes directing the future of this Reich you so foolishly believe you rule. We have done rather well during your inattentive rule - we have the ear of the future Kaiser and the current Chancellor. There is nothing you or your pathetic Charter Amendments can do to stop us now.”
Henry tried to lift himself out of bed, but succeeded only in temporarily raising himself before he collapsed back down. His eyelids started to flutter, as he saw the dark figure leaning over him. What will they say after am I dead? wondered Henry. When the Reich burns?
The intruder sat down beside Henry’s bed. “You made a mistake letting me go, taking your eye off your opponent.” he whispered. “I won’t make the same mistake. But I will repay your kindness. I will stay with you until the end.”
The dark figure held Henry’s hand. Henry looked at long gnarled fingers clasping his own in revulsion, but was powerless to pull back.
“The toxin used by the Hashshashins is very rare and leaves no traces. As far as the rest of the Reich will know, you passed away peacefully in your sleep. Which, after a fashion, is the truth, I suppose.”
The wry smile on intruder’s face was the last thing Henry ever saw. He closed his eyes, not knowing if the dark figure by his side was real, a fevered hallucination or a demon, come to escort him to the next world.
*****
During the night, Henry’s shieldbearer had slept heavily, with unusually vivid dreams which he could not shake. In one, he saw a tall, black cloaked figure leave the Kaiser’s tent, followed dutifully by Henry’s devoted dog, Ernest. When the shieldbearer awoke in the morning, he found Henry had passed away in the night, but his dog was no where to be seen. Fearful of the appearance of negligence, the shieldbearer told no one of his dream. Ernest the dog was never found.
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