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The War Hound And The World's Pain Part 1

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The War Hound and the World's Pain.

by Michael Moorc.o.c.k.

Chapter I.

IT WAS IN that year when the fas.h.i.+on in cruelty demanded not only the crucifixion of peasant children, but a similar fate for their pets, that I first met Lucifer and was .transported into h.e.l.l; for the Prince of Darkness wished to strike a bargain with me.

Until May of 16311 had commanded a troop of irregular infantry, mainly Poles, Swedes and Scots. We had taken part in the destruction and looting of the city of Magdeburg, having somehow found ourselves in the army of the Catholic forces under Count Johann Tzerclaes Tilly. Wind-borne gunpowder had turned the city into one huge keg and she had gone up all of a piece, driving us out with t.i.ttle booty to show for our hard work.



Disappointed and belligerent, wearied by the business of rapine and slaughter, quarrelling over what pathetic bits of goods they had managed to pull from the blazing houses, my men elected to split away from Tilly's forces. His had been a singularly ill-fed and badly equipped army, victim to the pride of bickering allies. It was a relief to leave it behind us.

We struck south into the foothills of the Hartz Mountains, intending to rest. However, it soon became evident to 12.me that some of my men had contracted the Plague, and I deemed it wise, therefore, to saddle my horse quietly one night and, taking what food there was, continue my journey alone.

Having deserted my men, I was not free from the presence of death or desolation. The world was in agony and shrieked its pain.

By noon I had pa.s.sed seven gallows on which men and women had been hanged and four wheels on which three men and one boy had been broken. I pa.s.sed the remains of a stake at which some poor wretch (witch or heretic) had been burned: whitened bone peering through charred wood and flesh.

No field was untouched by fire; the very forests stank of decay. Soot lay deep upon the road, borne by the black smoke which spread and spread from innumerable burning bodies, from sacked villages, from castles ruined by cannonade and siege; and at night my pa.s.sage was often lit by fires from burning monasteries and abbeys. Day was black and grey, whether the sun shone or no; night was red as blood and white from a moon pale as a cadaver. All was dead or dying; all was despair.

Life was leaving Germany and perhaps the whole world; I saw nothing but corpses. Once I observed a ragged creature stirring on the road ahead of me, fluttering and flopping like a wounded crow, but the old woman had expired before I reached her.

Even the ravens of the battlegrounds had fallen dead upon the remains of their carrion, bits of rotting flesh still in their beaks, their bodies stiff, their eyes dull as they stared into the meaningless void, neither Heaven, h.e.l.l nor yet Limbo (where there is, after all, still a little hope).

I began to believe that ray horse and myself were the only creatures allowed, by some whim of Our Lord, to remain as witnesses to the doom of His Creation.

If it were G.o.d's intention to destroy His world, as it seemed, then I had lent myself most willingly to His purpose.

I had trained myself to kill with ease, with skill, with a cunning efficiency and lack of ambiguity. My treacheries were always swift and decisive. I had learned the art of pa.s.sionless torture in pursuit of wealth and information. I knew how to The War Hound and the World's Pain 13 terrify in order to gain my ends, whether they be the needs of the flesh or in the cause of strategy.

I knew how to soothe a victim as gently as any butcher soothes a lamb. I had become a splendid thief of grain and cattle so that my soldiers should be fed and remain as loyal as possible to me.

I was the epitome of a good mercenary captain; a soldier-of-fortune envied and emulated; a survivor of every form of danger, be it battle, Plague or pox, for I had long since accepted things as they were and had ceased either to question or to complain.

I was Captain Ulrich von Bek and I was thought to be lucky.

The steel I wore, helmet, breastplate, greaves and gloves, was of the very best, as was the sweat-soaked silk of my s.h.i.+rt, the leather of my boots and breeches. My weapons had been selected from the richest of those I had killed and were all, pistols, sword, daggers and musket, by the finest smiths. My horse was large and hardy and excellently furnished.

I had no wounds upon my face, no marks of disease, and, if my bearing was a little stiff, it gave me, I was told, an air of dignified authority, even when I conducted the most hideous destruction.

Men found me a good commander and were glad to serve with me. I had grown to some fame and had a nickname, occasionally used: Krieghund.

They said I had been born for War. I found such opinions amusing.

My birthplace was in Bek. I was the son of a pious n.o.bleman who was loved for his good works. My father had protected and cared for his tenants and his estates. He had respected G.o.d and his betters. He had been learned, after the standards of this time, if not after the standards of the Greeks and Romans, and had come to the Lutheran religion through inner debate, through intellectual investigation, through discourse with others. Even amongst Catholics he was known for his kindness and had once been seen to save a Jew from stoning in the town square. He had a tolerance for almost every creature.

When my mother died, quite young, having given birth to the last of my sisters (I was the only son), he prayed for her 14.soul and waited patiently until he should join her in Heaven. In the meantime he followed G.o.d's Purpose, as he saw it, and looked after the poor and weak, discouraged them in certain aspirations which could only lead the ignorant souls into the ways of the Devil, and made certain that 1 acquired the best possible education from both clergymen and lay tutors.

I learned music and dancing, fencing and riding, as well as Latin and Greek. I was knowledgeable in the Scriptures and their commentaries. I was considered handsome, manly, G.o.d-fearing, and was loved by all in Bek.

Until 1625 I had been an earnest scholar and a devout Protestant, taking little interest (save to pray for our cause) in the various wars and battles of the North.

Gradually, however, as the canvas grew larger and the issues seemed to become more crucial, I determined to obey G.o.d and my conscience as best I could.

In the pursuit of my Faith, I had raised a company of infantry and gone off to serve hi the army of King Christian of Denmark, who proposed, in turn, to aid the Protestant Bohemians.

Since King Christian's defeat, I bad served a variety of masters and causes, not all of them, by any means, Protestant and a good many of them in no wise Christian by even the broadest description. I had also seen a deal of France, Sweden, Bohemia, Austria, Poland, Muscovy, Moravia, the Low Countries, Spain and, of course, most of the German provinces.

I had learned a deep distrust of idealism, had developed a contempt for any kind of unthinking Faith, and had discovered a number of strong arguments for the inherent malice, deviousness and hypocrisy of my fellow men, whether they be Popes, princes, prophets or peasants.

I had been brought up to the belief that a word given meant an appropriate action taken. I had swiftly lost my innocence, for I am not a stupid man at all.

By 1626 I had learned to lie as fluently and as easily as any of the major partic.i.p.ants of that War, who compounded deceit upon deceit in order to achieve ends which had begun to seem meaningless even to them; for those who compromise others also compromise themselves and are thus robbed of the capacity to place value on anything or anyone. For my own part I placed value upon my own life and trusted only myself to maintain it.

The War Hound and UK World's Pain 15.Magdeburg, if nothing else, would have proven those views of mine: By the time we had left the city we had destroyed most of its thirty thousand inhabitants. The five thousand survivors had nearly all been women and their fate was the obvious one.

Tilly, indecisive, appalled by what he had in his desperation engineered, allowed Catholic priests to make some attempt to marry the women to the men who had taken them, but the priests were jeered at for their pains.

The food we had hoped to gain had been burned in the city. All that had been rescued had been wine, so our men poured the contents of the barrels into their empty bellies.

The work which they had begun sober, they completed drunk. Magdeburg became a tormented ghost to haunt those few, unlike myself, who still possessed a conscience.

A rumor amongst our troops was that the fanatical Protestant, Falkenburg, had deliberately fired the city rather than have it captured by Catholics, but it made no odds to those who died or suffered. In years to come Catholic troops who begged for quarter from Protestants would be offered "Magdeburg mercy" and would be killed on the spot. Those who believed Falkenburg the instigator of the fire often celebrated him, catling Magdeburg "the Protestant Lucre-tia," self-murdered to protect her honour. AH this was madness to me and best forgotten.

Soon Magdeburg and my men were days behind me. The smell of smoke and the Plague remained in my nostrils, however, until well after I had turned out of the mountains and entered the oak groves of the northern fringes of the great Thuringian Forest.

Here, there was a certain peace. It was spring and the leaves were green and their scent gradually drove the stench of slaughter away.

The images of death and confusion remained in my mind, nonetheless. The tranquillity of the forest seemed to me artificial. I suspected traps.

1 could not relax for thinking that the trees hid robbers or that the vety ground could disguise a secret pit. Few birds sang here; I saw no animals.

The atmosphere suggested that G.o.d's Doom had been visited on this place as freely as it had been visited elsewhere. Yet I was grateful for any kind of calm, and after two days without danger presenting itself I found that I could steep quite easily for several hours and could eat with a degree of leisure, drinking from sweet brook water made strange to me because it did not taste of the corpses which clogged, for instance, the Elbe from bank to bank.

It was remarkable to me that the deeper into the forest I moved, the less life I discovered.

The stillness began to oppress me; I became grateful for the sound of my own movements, the tread of the horse's hooves on the turf, the occasional breeze which swept the leaves of the trees, animating them and making them seem less like frozen giants observing my pa.s.sage with a pa.s.sionless sense of the danger lying ahead of me.

It was warm and I had an impulse more than once to remove my helmet and breastplate, but I kept them firmly on, sleeping in my armour as was my habit, a naked sword ready by my hand.

I came to believe that this was not, after all, a Paradise, but the borderland between Earth and h.e.l.l.

I was never a superst.i.tious man, and shared the rational view of the universe with our modern alchemists, anatomists, physicians and astrologers; I did not explain my fears in terms of ghosts, demons, Jews or witches; but I could discover no explanation for this absence of life.

No army was nearby, to drive game before it. No large beasts stalked here. There were not even huntsmen. I had discovered not a single sign of human habitation.

The forest seemed unspoiled and untouched since the beginning of Time. Nothing was poisoned, i had eaten berries and drunk water. The undergrowth was lush and healthy, as were the trees and shrubs. I had eaten mushrooms and truffles; my horse nourished on the good gra.s.s.

Through the treetops I saw clear blue sky, and sunlight wanned the glades. But no insects danced in the beams; no bees crawled upon the leaves of the wild flowers; not even an earthworm twisted about the roots, though the soil was dark and smelted fertile.

It came to me that perhaps this was a part of the globe as yet unpopulated by G.o.d, some forgotten corner which had been overlooked during the latter days of the Creation. Was I a wandering Adam come to find his Eve and start the race again? Had G.o.d, feeling hopeless at humanity's incapacity to maintain even a clear idea of His Purpose, decided to 17.expunge His first attempts? But I could only conclude that some natural catastrophe had driven the animal kingdom away, be it through famine or disease, and that it had not yet returned.

You can imagine that this state of reason became more difficult to maintain when, breaking out of the forest proper one afternoon, I saw before me a green, flowery hill which was crowned by the most beautiful castle I had ever beheld: a thing of delicate stonework, of spires and ornamental battlements, all soft, pale browns, whites and yellows, and this castle seemed to me to be at the centre of the silence, casting its influence for miles around, protecting itself as a nun might protect herself, with cold purity and insouciant confidence. Yet it was mad to think such a thing, I knew.

How could a building demand calm, to the degree that not even a mosquito would dare disturb it?

It was my first impulse to avoid the castle, but my pride overcame me.

I refused to believe that there was anything genuinely mysterious.

A broad, stony path wound up the hillside between banks of flowers and sweet-smelling bushes which gradually became shaped into terraced gardens with bal.u.s.trades, statuary and formally arranged flower beds.

This was a peaceful place, built for civilised tastes and reflecting nothing of the War. From time to time as I rode slowly up the path I called out a greeting, asking for shelter and stating my name, according to accepted tradition; but there was no reply. Windows filled with stained gla.s.s glittered like the eyes of benign lizards, but I saw no human eye, heard no voice.

Eventually I reached the open gates of the castle's outer wall and rode beneath a portcullis into a pleasant courtyard full of old trees, climbing plants and, at the centre, a well. Around this courtyard were the apartments and appointments of those who would normally reside here, but it was plain to me that not a soul occupied them.

I dismounted from my horse, drew a bucket from the well so that he might drink, tethered him lightly and walked up the steps to the main doors which I opened by means of a large iron handle.

Within, it was cool and sweet.

There was nothing sinister about the shadows as I 18 climbed more steps and entered a room furnished with old chests and tapestries. Beyond this were the usual living quarters of a wealthy n.o.bleman of taste. I made a complete round of the rooms on all three stories.

There was nothing in disorder. The books and ma.n.u.scripts in the library were in perfect condition. There were preserved meats, fruits and vegetables in the pantries, barrets of beer and jars of wine in the cellars.

It seemed that the castle had been left with a view to its inhabitants' early return. There was no decay at all. But what was remarkable to me was that there were, as in the forest, no signs of the small animals, such as rats and mice, which might normally be discovered.

A little cautiously I sampled the castle's larder and found it excellent. I would wait, however, for a while before I made a meal, to see how my stomach behaved, I glanced through the windows, which on this side were glazed with clear, green gla.s.s, and saw that my horse was content. He had not been poisoned by the well water.

I climbed to the top of one of the towers and pushed open a little wooden door to let myself onto the battlements.

Here, too, flowers and vegetables and herbs grew in tubs and added to the sweetness of the air.

Below me, the treetops were like the soft waves of a green and frozen sea. Able to observe the land for many miles distant and see no sign of danger, I became relieved.

I went to stable my horse and then explored some of the chests to see if I could discover the name of the castle's owner. Normally one would have come upon family histories, crests and the like. There were none.

The linen bore no mottoes or insignia, the clothing (of which quant.i.ties existed to dress most ages and both s.e.xes) was of good quality, but anonymous. I returned to the kitchens, lit a fire and began to heat water so that I might bathe and avail myself of some of the softer apparel in the chests.

I had decided that this was probably the summer retreat of some rich Catholic prince who now did not wish to risk the journey from his capital, or who had no time for rest.

I congratulated myself on my good fortune. I toyed with the idea of audaciously making the castle my own, of finding servants for it, perhaps a woman or two to keep me company and share one of the large and comfortable beds I had already19.sampled. Yet how, short of robbery, would I maintain the place?

There were evidently no farms, no mills, no villages nearby; therefore no rents, no supplies. The age of the castle was difficult to judge, and I saw no clear roads leading to it.

Perhaps its owner had first discovered the tranquil wood and had had the castle built secretly. A very rich aristocrat who required considerable privacy might find it possible to achieve. I could imagine that I might myself consider such a plan. But I was not rich. The castle was therefore an excellent base from which to make raids. It could be defended, even if it were discovered.

It seemed to me that it could also have been built by some ancient brigandry baron in the days when almost all the German provinces were maintained by petty warlords preying upon one another and upon the surrounding populace.

That evening I lit many candles and sat in the library wearing fresh linen and drinking good wine while I read a treatise on astronomy by a student of Kepler's and reflected on my increasing disagreement with Luther, who had judged reason to be the chief enemy of Faith, of the purity of his beliefs. He had considered reason a harlot, willing to turn to anyone's needs, but this merely displayed his own suspicion of logic. I have come to believe him the madman Catholics described him as. Most mad people see logic as a threat to the dream in which they would rather live, a threat to their attempts to make the dream reality (usually through force, through threat, through manipulation and through bloodshed). It is why men of reason are so often the first to be killed or exiled by tyrants.

He who would a.n.a.lyse the world, rather than impose upon it a set of attributes, is always most in danger from his fellows, though he prove the most pa.s.sive and tolerant of men. It has often seemed to me that if one wishes to find consolation in this world one must also be prepared to accept at least one or two large lies. A confessor requires considerable Faith before he will help you.

I went early to bed, having fed my horse with oats from the granary, and slept peacefully, for I had taken the precaution of lowering the portcullis, knowing that I should wake if anyone should try to enter the castle in the night.

My steep was dreamless, and yet when I awoke in the morning I had an impression of gold and white, of lands 20.without horizon, without sun or moon. It was another warm, clear day. All I wished for to complete my peace of mind was a little birdsong, but I whistled to myself as I descended to the kitchens to breakfast on preserved herring and cheese, was.h.i.+ng this down with some watered beer.

I had decided to spend as much time as I could in the castle, to recollect myself, to rest and then continue my journey until I found some likely master who would employ me in the trade I had made my own. I had long since learned to be content with my own company and so did not feel the loneliness which others might experience.

It was in the evening, as I exercised upon the battlements, that I detected the signs of conflict some miles distant, close to the horizon. There, the forest was burning; or perhaps it was a settlement which burned. The fire spread even as I watched, but no wind carried the smoke towards me.

As the sun set I saw a faint red glow, but was able to go to bed and sleep soundly again, for no rider could have reached the castle by the morning.

I rose shortly after sunrise and went immediately to the battlements.

The fire was dying, it seemed. I ate and read until noon.

Another visit to the battlements showed me that the fire had grown again, indicating that a good-sized army was on the move towards me. It would take me less than an hour to be ready to leave, and I had learned the trick of responding to nothing but actual and immediate danger. There was always the chance that the army would turn away well before it sighted the castle.

For three days I watched as the army came nearer and nearer until it was possible to see it through a break in the trees created by a wide river.

It had settled on both banks, and I knew enough of such armies to note that it was const.i.tuted of the usual proportions: at least five camp-followers to every soldier.

Women and children and male servants of various sorts went about the business of administering to the warriors. These were people who, for one reason or another, had lost their own homes and found greater security with the army than they would find elsewhere, preferring to identify with the aggressor rather than be his victims.

There were about a hundred horses, bat the majority of 21.the men were infantry, clad in the costumes and uniforms of a score of countries and princes. It was impossible to say which cause, if any, it served, and would therefore be best avoided, particularly since it had an air of recent defeat about it.

The next day I saw outriders approach the castle and then almost immediately turn their horses back, without debate. Judging by their costume and their weapons, the riders were native Germans, and I formed the impression that they knew of the castle and were anxious to avoid it.

If some local superst.i.tion kept them away and thus preserved my peace, I would be more than content to let them indulge their fears. I planned to watch carefully, however, until 1 became certain that I would not be disturbed.

In the meanwhile I continued my explorations of the castle.

I had been made even more curious by the fearful response of those riders. Nonetheless, no effort of mine could reveal the castle's owner, nor even the name of the family which had built it. That they were wealthy was evident from the quant.i.ty of rich silk and woollen hangings everywhere, the pictures and the tapestries, the gold and the silver, the illuminated windows.

I sought out vaults where ancestors might be buried and discovered none.

I concluded that my original opinion was the most likely to be true: this was a rich prince's retreat. Possibly a private retreat, where he did not wish to be known by his given name. If the owner kept mysteries about him as to his ident.i.ty, then it was also possible that his power was held to be great and possibly supernatural in these parts and that that was why the castle went untouched. I thought of the legend of Johannes Faust and other mythical maguses of the previous, uncertain, century.

In two days the army had gone on its slow way and I was alone again.

I was quickly growing bored, having read most of what interested me in the library and beginning to long for fresh meat and bread, as well as the company of some jolly peasant woman, such as those I had seen with the army. But I stayed there for the best part of another week, sleeping a good deal and restoring my strength of body, as well as my strength of judgement.

22.All I had to look forward to was a long journey, the business of recruiting another company and then seeking a fresh master for my services.

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The War Hound And The World's Pain Part 1 summary

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