he weir had run far and hard to reach the fortress. In the treaty his chief had made with Barbarossa, they had been promised freedom – a world without borders, a world where they answered only to themselves. Barbarossa, however, did not like bad news, and made ready to give him freedom of a different kind.
Breathless, the wolf-man had told him of two men and a boy in his forest – two men and a boy that had got away.
Breathless, Barbarossa had answered.
The familiars had poured from the butcher’s arms like vengeful spirits, all gnashing and slithering, angry and wild. They were not like normal familiars. Barbarossa had changed them with some dark magic of his own making. Sar-adin, his Demon butler, watched without the slightest hint of compassion or remorse. In that both master and servant were the same.
“Are you sure that was wise, master? The weirs are our allies, are they not?”
“They think the taiga was theirs to give. They only made the taking easier. I will deal with the weirs; you will deal with my brother, the boy and the fool who joined them. They are not to leave the mountain.”
“Capture or kill, master?”
“Bring my brother to me. Feed the boy and his accomplice to whoever wants them.”