Very slowly, Psody parted the skin sections of his tent and passed his muzzle out. The sun had not set yet. Jourg's Skaven were still asleep. As they didn't like to expose themselves to the light of day, when they were outside, they knew forget their endless disputes for rest all at the same time to be at their best once night. The small White Skaven was therefore the only one fully awake.
He completely extricated himself from his shelter, picked up his backpack, and considered the situation. The sun was shining in the blue sky, bleached only here and there with a few clouds. Looking towards the castle, he saw the silhouettes of Humans who were walking back and forth on circular watch paths. Above, a flock of birds riddled skies with moving at high speed black dots. Katel had explained him some of these feathered flying animals moved in large groups, giving this curious spectacle.
The young ratman progressed to tiptoe between tanned skin shelters. From time to time he stopped when he heard a snore come from a tent, or other noise. He took care to move in the wind, to avoid his odour flowing in the direction of Clan Moulder animal cages and excite them. Fortunately, nobody noticed him. Even the two Stormvermin at the entrance of the camp slept soundly under the large animal skin shelter stretched between a few stakes planted in the mud.
He walked away from the camp, still taking care not to attract attention. He went into the forest, and quickened his pace to get to the river. Once near the source of clear water, he placed his bag, made sure nobody was around, and then he took off his wool shirt. Finally, he went carefully into the water. The freshness of the wave under his hairless toes shiver. When he found himself immersed to the bellybutton, he plunged frankly his hands under the water, and tried somehow to clean dark traces of dried blood that spattered his fur.
While engaged in his ablutions, the little ratman watched relentlessly towards the camp. He feared being seen by one of the Skaven of Jourg. He didn't want to get caught naked. In normal times, it was already a rather embarrassing for a Skaven, but since Katel had made his education in the manner of Humans, he had held that nudity was closely related to privacy. Third point, a Skaven being wash in clean water was an unusual thing, and he preferred to avoid arousing suspicion.
Yet, he couldn't bear no more the smell of Human blood on him, nor see his beautiful white fur dirty. He thought about what Katel had told him, when she had promised he would usually stay clean. At the time, he had categorically rejected the idea. And now... he even regretted not having soap on hand! He smiled at the thought, while continuing its operation.
He spent long minutes to rub himself vigorously, then when he thought he did his best, came swiftly out the river, and shook. He opened his bag, took out the precious robe which the witch had given him. The shaped stylized horned rat head embroidery ensured his fortune from his god. He would need it.
He passed the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and returned to the camp. As he approached the camp, he was churning his brain at full speed. He had spent part of the day to think of ways to undermine the Skaven forces besieging Gottliebschloss. Waiting too long would be risking even more to see other Skaven get mended by Jourg, or being unmasked.
I must act now-now!
The best thing to do was to cause maximum chaos in the ranks of Jourg's warriors. Unforeseen events quickly panicked Skaven, no talent for improvisation. The options weren't lacking; between animal cages to open, Skryre warpstone jezzails powder to ignite, the Screaming Bell...
The Screaming Bell was probably the best option. It could overthrow the tents of the camp, drive the Skaven crazy, and alert Humans. If he decided to act as soon as possible, he could put the mess in the few next minutes. And that's what he would do.
Finally, he saw the war machine. The small wooden bell tower on wheels seemed to be waiting patiently for the time to sound its lethal chime. And, of course, nobody had cared to watch it. It was hilarious! Once daybreak, Skaven didn't take the risk of burning their eyes keeping them open under the sun, or even spend the day in the open air. Fear of daylight and open spaces were recurrent to the sons of the Horned Rat. Such negligence would cost these invaders dearly.
When he was near the bell, he noticed something that made him stretch his lips in a mischievous smile.
These morons-morons are making it easier!
Indeed, it was a new model of Screaming Bell; normally, a ringer had to hammer the bronze with his mallet, while the Grey Seer himself cast his incantations, and the young ratman had feared to have difficult to ring the bell, because of his rather limited physical strength. However, that weapon was equipped with a spring-loaded hammer, which would be tended thanks to a small wooden wheel, then released by pulling the lever.
Even I should be able to use it! The Horned Rat is with me!
Psody took a deep breath. He wanted to take the time to think about it one last time. He was well aware that his life was going to toggle for good if he executed his plan. It was still possible to waive, to find another Skaven colony far from Brissuc where his Grey Seer talents would be appreciated. If he helped Jourg to overthrow Lord Gottlieb, his place would be assured. Even if Vellux heard he was still alive, there would be always a way to escape or revenge. But he soon abandoned this idea.
I won't spend my life wondering why these visions! And no Skaven can ever explain to me their meaning!
And the memory of his short stay in Sub-Marienburg finished to convince him; his Skaven life was finally over. Resolved to face all the consequences, Psody climbed slowly on the war machine. He grabbed the wheel tightly, and twirled it. Gears rattled tooth by tooth, while the hammer fell slowly back, then everything stopped in a metal snap. The bell was ready to play its destructive melody. The White Skaven closed his eyes, murmured a short prayer to the attention of his tutelary deity, and put his hand on the lever handle. He took another deep breath, and pulled the handle firmly. The hammer struck the bell bronze, and a muffled roar thundered over the whole camp.
No way back!
Or time waste! Psody turned again the wheel like a madman, putting in place the hammer. The Screaming Bell rang a second time. The White Skaven heard the terrified cries of his fellows who were waking up. Rats-ogres roared in surprise in their cage. The vibrations made ruffle the young ratman fur, who felt the adrenaline whipping his nervous system. He knocked again on the bell. Someone shouted:
- Alert! Alert! Stop the bell!
Skaven came out of their tent, crazed with excitement under the influence of the war machine. Psody stretched his fingers to the Skirmishers gunpowder reserve, and brought forth a bolt. Barrels exploded, and flames flared up the darkness of the night, setting fire to clothes. The heat made shot some weapons already loaded. The White Skaven roared in joy still turning the wheel. The sinister ringing of the bell erupted for the fourth time.
Psody felt dizzy. Vibrations of the bell were acting on the Skaven body, electrifiing their nerves to make them hysterical, and he wasn't an exception. He felt an irresistible fury mounting, mounting in him, threatening to make him lose all logic in favour of a destructive madness. And yet, he had to keep control of himself, if he wanted to escape the Skaven who would try to annihilate him. He looked at the bell, and his eyes widened. The war weapon had accumulated too much power, and threatened to break up! Large wood struts were trembling, the fittings were cracking, spouting splinters.
Time to go!
He turned the wheel to put the hammer up one last time, then jumped to the ground. He found himself nose in the mud. He felt a sharp pain twisting his skull, and his body was taken by violent convulsions. He gathered his strength and jumped up, and ran as fast as he could zigzag. Skaven were too scared to pay attention to him, they fled in all directions, squealing in panic. When he was far enough away, Psody raised his hand and focused his mind on a small particular element: the chain that holded the hammer of the bell. He stretched his three fingers in a triangle, and let out another green bolt. The Warp energy broke one of the iron links. The hammer struck the bronze bell. The noise that came out the war machine sounded like a thunderclap. It was the last shock. The war machine couldn't contain such power, and collapsed in a frightful din of broken wood.
Psody nearly jumped in joy, but quickly recovered his spirits. He had to go immediately! He ran, ran to the edge of the camp. Before him, the dark shape of the castle appeared in the mist. He saw the lights of torches come and go on the walls. Humans were certainly wondering what was happening.
- And now, I call my own reinforcements! the White Skaven said.
He lifted to his mouth the horn he had picked up on one of the Imperialists, and inspired his lungs.
On the walkway of castle Gottliebschloss, the guards bustled. The first bell had panicked them, they saw it as a sign of attack from their enemies. Their captain, Gerd Rothemd, had quickly joined his men. He grabbed the first that passed by the shoulder.
- Soldier Müller, report!
- The Beastmen have started their war machine, captain!
- How much? Are they around the moat again?
- No, sir! We have not yet seen one of these nuisances!
- What?
- They're still in their camp, captain!
Rothemd carefully leaned his head between two slots.
- How strange... these creatures are awake at night, I expected they would attack later! The sun has set, but it's still dusk.
- And they don't surround the castle as yesterday, captain!
- Yeah... and listen to these cries. This is not rage, but fear. It's as if they were themselves taken by surprise.
- Captain! Look over there!
A second soldier pointed a plume of black smoke within cracked in a multitude of green sparks.
- It looks like a gunpowder fire!
- Are you sure, Schweigen? Müller asked. I've seen gunpowder fires, at Nuln academy. And none did such a light!
- We're dealing with Beast-men, Müller. They must use special powders.
- What? Müller worried. You mean they are preparing a curse with a cloud of black magic?
- Calm down, soldier Müller, ordered Rothmed. I don't think it is a curse. They have guns, remember? So they have ammunition. One way or another, their supply of powder caught fire.
Schweigen raised his arm, instructing the silence.
- What is it, soldier Schweigen? asked the captain.
- Captain, listen!
The three men made silence. They clearly heard over the screeching roar of panic and fire a clear, strong and perfectly recognisable sound.
- This is the signal of foresters!
- Foresters, sir?
- Yes, one of the groups who patrol the area! That's it! It's them!
- They did all this?
- Surely! They sabotaged the weapons of these mutant pigs, and now they need help!
- What do we do, Captain?
Rothemd looked at Müller, straight into his eyes.
- It's obvious, isn't it? We go rescue them!
- But... they are too many, sir!
- As they are sheltered in their camp, but now, this is the debacle! A good opportunity to strike downright and eliminate as much as possible of them! And you never abandon the citizens of the Empire when you can save them! Go!
The captain called:
- Sergeant Herzog! Sergeant! Come here!
A guard wearing ornate armour and a helmet with a feather appeared almost immediately in front of Rothemd.
- Aye, Captain!
- Sergeant Herzog, take command of the garrison and shoot any coming man-beast! I'm going to make an exit! Müller, Schweigen, come with me!
- Yes, sir! the two soldiers and the sergeant answered in unison.
Rothemd descended the stone steps of the wall at full speed, closely followed by the two men. Once in court, he hailed six men more.
- All on horse, we'll break their lines! Raise the portcullis, down the drawbridge!
A barely minute later the nine armed men crossed the ditch at full gallop, the hooves of their horses slamming on the rail wood. It took them not much longer to reach the first tents of their besiegers. Rothemd drew his sword, and mowed the head of one of the creatures on his way. His men emulated him. The Chaos offspring who were on their way, completely unprepared, didn't instinctively defend themselves. The explosion had rocked splinters and inflamed tissue in all directions, and the fire spread from one tent to another. Some Beast-men even had fur on fire, and groaned in pain without stop running.
Hidden in the tall grass away, Psody didn't miss anything of the show. The night was now completely dark. This didn't bother his senses, but he wondered how Humans fared on their side. Were warpstone powder fire lights sufficient?
He was pulled from his thoughts by sparkling shards over him. He blenched, and found himself on his back under the effect of surprise. Resting on his elbows, he craned his neck toward the sky. A familiar sensation ran through his spine while his whiskers felt cracklings. That was what he felt every time someone used magic in his presence.
Oh ho! They have a mage-mage!
A rain of silver arrows starting from a window of the great central tower confirmed this idea. Several Skaven were pierced by iridescent missiles, and died instantly. The young White Skaven shivered. He wished never have to face this mysterious arcanist.
The nine riders crossed the camp and fro, massacring the beast-men on their path. War horses were well trained and had the habit of running in the middle of the battlefield. However, something prompted the captain to slow down, then stop the run. In the middle of an open space between several tents, a huge moving and rumbling mass stamped, sweeping the air with his colossal fists.
- Here's a big one, soldiers! We must not let it escape and devour our villagers! Müller, Schweigen with me! Melk, take the other, and continue to fight them!
The so-called Melk took the lead of the half-dozen, and all resumed their ride bypassing the beast.
- Captain, my horse refuses to go to this thing! Schweigen cursed.
- Mine too! Müller complained.
Rothemd jumped down from his mount jumped.
- The smell of Chaos scares them! Dismount!
The three men quickly surrounded the creature, sword and shield raised, ready to send it in hell. The monster appeared to them more clearly, his huge carcass illuminated by the greenish flames. Rothemd gritted his teeth seeing that it was a huge beast-man, more than eight feet high. Its heavy body weighted nearly a thousand pounds. A thousand pounds of muscles as hard as stone that rolled under a clear skin partially covered with short brown fur. Its huge arms seemed powerful enough to fold in half the barrel of a cannon from the forges of Nuln, its shiny claws were long and sharp as knives. A long ringed tail whipped the air behind it, and a head reminding in a shocking way that of a large rat, provided with short moustache and long incisors, overcame its shoulders.
Müller and Schweigen were intimidated by the creature, but Rothemd, former patrolman in Drakwald forest, notoriously infested by mutants, had seen worse. He rushed forward and thrust his sword up to the hilt into the side of the massive beast. The beast-man roared in pain and anger toward the captain. It twirled its fists as massive as millstones to the Imperial. Rothemd jumped back just in time, and felt a slight touch on his side. Schweigen took advantage of the opening to swing his weapon from high to down. The tip of his sword opened a wound in the muscular buttock of the beast-man which blenched.
- Aim tendons! Rothemd ordered.
Müller understood what his superior meant. He skirted by the right the creature that was attacking Schweigen, bended his legs, ready to pounce at the right moment. Then he lunged forward with another sweep of his weapon. He severed the left inside knee of the beast. Blackish blood gushed from the wound. The monster bellowed again by making a sweeping motion with its clawed paw. The soldier was surprised by the speed of the attack, he had no time to avoid it. In a split second, his head was left torn from his neck.
Schweigen cried with anger seeing his fallen comrade, and threw himself upon the creature.
- GO BACK TO THE GODS OF CHAOS!
He struck in the right tibia of the giant beast-man, so hard that the cut it in half. This time, the thing squeaked in pain and fell to its knees. It had to lean on the floor with its paw to avoid completely losing balance. Its filthy head was just at the Human breast height. Rothemd grabbed his shield with both hands and sent with his whole forces on the giant rat facies of their opponent. The beast-man rolled over and went sprawling with outstretched arms on its back. Schweigen jumped with both feet on his stomach, and thrust his sword in its throat.
The huge creature shuddered, writhed, and then finally stopped moving. Rothemd firmly grasps his sword guard, leaned his foot on the chest of the beast, and drew it in a sharp blow from the still hot carcass.
- Well done, Schweigen! A little reckless, but efficient!
- Captain... Müller...
- We'll take care of him later. The fight is not over, soldier!
During this fierce battle, the six soldiers led by Melk also faced serious difficulties. The leader hit beat beast-men on his passage, when suddenly his horse fell forward with a desperate whinny. The Human had only reflex bounce on the side, and to get unsteadily on his feet. He thought his horse had stumbled, but when he saw that his followers fell the same way, he saw and understood better the situation. Something was crawling on the ground, as if the earth itself was alive. He then heard little squeaks in the din of battle, and distinguished ears, long claws, eyes, huge teeth. One of the soldiers got up, screaming with fright and pain, as he was covered with small creatures. Melk felt his eyes widen by seeing rats, big, a good foot long not counting tail, and driven by an insatiable appetite. The poor guy didn't stay up long. He fell in the moving mass of rabid rodents, and his cries ceased when he finally was eaten, like the horses. Melk up his sword, shouting:
- Back! Back!
The five still alive soldiers hastened to obey, and moved away from the flow of vermin as they could by pushing a few rats clinging to their clothes. In the confusion, Melk had lost sight of the huge beast-man. He frantically threw glances around and finally spotted the creature. It was berserk and hit everything within the reach of his giant hands. Smaller beast-men did their best to control it. One of them made a huge leap onto its shoulders, and thrust a long dagger through its neck. The giant beast-man fell to the ground.
Melk and his men formed a circle, sword and shield raised and ready to use. Whenever a beast-man approached the group consciously or not, it was immediately torn to pieces by one or other of the Imperialists. Unfortunately for Humans, some of these bipedal rats overcame their fear to face them. One of them clubbed several times the young soldier. Melk was protected by his shield, but the repeated assaults of the creature lowed his breath, and his arm began to hurt.
A leather whip wrapped around the neck of the guard near Melk. The Human dropped his weapon and pulled hard. Useless, the beast-man who held the whip backed arm with a yank, pulled his victim a few feet away, kneeling him, then jumped on his back before slashing him with claws and fangs. Melk brought his sword on the head of the monster with a hating howl.
An explosion lit up the night sky with a greenish fire. A beast-man powder keg had caught fire, throwing ash and breads material. Melk saw his other neighbour receive a smoking big as a hen's egg fragment on the scapula. The stone disintegrated the leather boiled in an instant, and when it came into contact with the skin care, the latter blenched with a cry of pain and wriggled in an unusual then aberrant way. A tentacle sprang with a sickening hiss from the injury, and lashed in force. One of the other still standing soldiers flung a pommel hit on the temple of the unfortunate man, and he stuck his sword in his chest when he was on the ground. When he saw Melk watching with horror and disgust, he barked:
- No other solution!
Melk didn't want to answer because any answer was useless. Anyway, he didn't had the opportunity, either. A blow on his head sent him rolling on the grass. He knew in an instant his life ended here, in this camp. In this melee, the slightest mistake was lethal. He raised his head, and his eyes met those of one of the creatures. It was a very large beast-man, its fur as black as the iciest ink. Melk growled seeing brandish its mace. He was still stunned, and knew he wouldn't have the reflex to dodge. His two comrades were still fighting, struggling with other Chaos spawns, and couldn't help him. He closed his eyes and waited for death. But death didn't come take him.
The black furred beast-man fell on its belly. Melk spotted a smoking hole in his homespun shirt, right in the middle of its back. He stood up, surprised to be alive, sought his rescuer angel, without finding it.
Diassyon was right, it's really easy-easy! Psody thought by throwing the warplock jezzail. He scanned the camp in a glance. His plan had succeeded better than he had hoped. It was total panic in the Skaven. They ran in all directions uttering shrill cries, and those who didn't fall under the sword of armed men were burned by the flames that had spread in streaks across the camp. And the unwary coming towards Gottliebschloss died, shot by Humans guns or blasted by magic arrows. Living Skaven inside the camp became scarce again and again.
- Soldier Melk!
Melk straightened, took back full possession of his faculties when he heard the voice of his captain. Rothemd and Schweigen stood before him on horseback. The captain had attached the frame of Müller to his own horse.
- Captain... we've lost.
- No, soldier, get a grip! We won!
Amazed, Melk looked around. It was true. His mind had been plunged into such a mess that he did not realise all was over. They were only five survivors out of nine, but they managed to expel the beast-men.
- Come on, do a final round to find Human survivors. You three, go back to the castle, and go see the prior!
- Uh... right, sir.
Psody could not help but be in awe. These humans had shown a really unusual strength, on foot, on horse, with sword and gun. Well equipped, well trained, they were more formidable even than the small band of Kleist.
Indeed-indeed, I had never seen real Human soldiers fight before tonight!
The little White Skaven suddenly felt a nervous grip wrap around his torso and pull him back, as a hand gripped his horns to force him to look up at the sky. A blade bit the flesh of his throat.
- You liar-liar! I knew it!
The glands of the young ratman spread a scared musk when he recognised Jourg's voice. Taken by the excitement of the fight, he didn't feel him come. And the Chief Moulder had taken advantage of his three arms to subdue him.
- Your time has come, you damn traitor! I bet you killed Boughree! He was my friend, you'll regret for having done that! But I shall avenge him, and when I report your head to our lord, he'll reward me, and I'll be permitted to shag my favourite breeder during a whole week, and I...
The White Skaven raised sharply his tail, trying to whip his attacker in his face. The Moulder wasn't hit, but he released his grip and lifted one of his rights forearms by reflex. Psody turned, and in the same movement drew his pistol from his belt and opened fire. The bullet burst the chest of his opponent. He had a grimace of pain, and rolled onto his back. The White Skaven spat on the jerking body of Jourg of Clan Moulder and simply said, shrugging his shoulders:
- When you have to stab, stab! Don't talk!
Explosions thundered intermittently, bursting the dark night with waves of shimmering particles, and the last few burning ratmen were fleeing. From the wall, the musketeers saw the first three soldiers come back. They were immediately taken to the dormitory where their wounds were treated.
Finally, the blows stopped, the screams ceased, calm fell on the scene, broken only by the crackling of the flames that lit the mist. The grass was still wet from the last rain, the wind wasn't blowing, and fire would probably extinguish itself quickly. Sergeant Herzog sighed, and heard his men rejoicing. Several victorious exclamations resounded through the court. After agonizing weeks during all of them had the nerves because of these monsters, the suffering was finally over, and the Empire had won.
- Sergeant Herzog? one of the guards asked.
- Yeah, Kerner?
- It's all over, you think?
- I don't know, soldier! Maybe these pests are going to play a dirty trick!
- The captain is back, sergeant! noticed another soldier.
All saw the captain Rothemd board under the harrow on horseback, accompanied by one of his subordinates and two steeds. His voice sounded to walk.
- Lower the portcullis, raise the drawbridge!
Herzog gave instructions, and access to the castle was closed again.
The sergeant gave another sigh, deeper than the last. Four soldiers and six horses had died under the claws and fangs of these abominations. It was sad for them and their families, but at least they had succeeded. Herzog saw the captain into the dungeon, presumably to report to lord Gottlieb.
- Sergeant, is everything okay? Kerner worried again.
- Huh? Oh, yeah... Don't worry.
Indeed, how far were the days when Herzog and his brothers played war with wooden swords, as they were children. How far were they from reality, too. The war had absolutely nothing glorious, and even the fact to defend against invaders successfully didn't rejoice him. Herzog decided to stop thinking about it. After all, they had not suffered so many losses that their enemies, and with time, the pain would fade.
While they were there, they have not attacked isolated villages. And now they're gone, we finally can breathe.
All the inhabitants of the castle gradually withdrew to rest, apart sergeant Herzog and some volunteers remaining on the walkway. They relaxed, convinced that the danger had passed, when suddenly they heard a shrill voice.
- Hey! Ahoy! Soldiers of the Empire!
Schweigen, back to his post, pointed to something.
- Sergeant, look!
- What, soldier? Oh! By Sigmar's hammer...
On the road leading to the drawbridge, there was a small figure which advanced alone. The sergeant recognised a beast-man, with white fur, a rat head, and two long horns. The spawn of Chaos moved slowly, and held with both hands a spear on which it had attached a white cloth, waving it slowly. It cried again, talking in reikspiel:
- I surrender! I am your prisoner!
The sergeant firmly grasped his rifle and shouted:
- You giant rat freak! Go away, or I kill you!
But the beast-man stopped at the ditch, and didn't move more. The sergeant pulled the trigger of the gun, and shot. The bullet ricocheted to within one foot of the beast-man. It blenched, but didn't retreat. It insisted:
- Please, I beg you! All I want is to talk to Master Felix Jaeger! I know he's with you!
- What do you want to master Jaeger, you stinking vermin?
- I want to discuss with him as an equal! I must see him, this is very important!
Psody cursed the Humans as he heard them laugh. But he stood and remained motionless, clinging to his flag. What should he do? Kneel? Good idea, that's what he did. Drop the spear and reach lift his arms? Too risky, they might believe he would cast a spell. He held more firmly his flag, while still on his knee.
On the wall, one of the soldiers asked:
- I put it down, sergeant?
- Wait, that's weird. This is not the first time I face these cursed offspring of Chaos, and I never saw them go with a white flag.
- What's going on? shouted a loud voice.
The soldiers immediately stood to attention, while lord Gottlieb approached. Wilhelm Gottlieb was a big man, six feet high. Encased in a heavy plate armour to his measures, ihe had broad shoulders, and his chest was massive, as what he liked to combine exercise and good food. His stern face was hidden by an impressive chestnut beard. His bushy eyebrows almost crossed above the root of his bulbous nose, and his hair reminded the mane of a lion of South Lands.
- So, sergeant Herzog? Why did you shoot?
- My lord, there is a beast-man in the front of the castle.
- Well, what are you waiting for? Get rid of it!
- Indeed, it comes to give its surrender, my lord.
- Huh?
- I wanted it to leave, but it insists.
Lord Gottlieb looked over the wall, and saw in turn the white ratman, still standing with its white flag.
- It says it wants to meet sir Jaeger, my lord, specified sergeant Herzog.
- It speaks our language?
- He wants to meet me?
Another Human had followed the lord. He was a great man, with blond hair matted in filthy locks. He was well dressed, and had a certain presence. A sense of calm, self-control emanated from him, an aura forged by years of adventures, battles and tragedies. His serious face was clean-shaved. He wore a sword at his side with finely crafted scabbard and pommel, and a red wool cape floated on his shoulders.
- A friend of yours, sir Jaeger? inquired the lord Gottlieb.
Felix Jaeger scratched his head. He cast a quick glance down over the slot, then returned to lord Gottlieb.
- This is not a beast-man, but a Skaven.
- What's the difference?
- This is a Chaos offspring, but with a way of life different from those of the Drakwald beast-men.
The eyes of the Lord Gottlieb undertook suspicions.
- What? Jaeger, don't tell me you have hidden us information!
- It wouldn't have made a big difference, my lord. And when I have explained you what I know about them, you will understand why.
- I'm curious to hear you. But for now, we must take care of that! We must eliminate it!
- Wait, my lord. I've already met lots of Skaven. This one is not ordinary, it is a White Skaven. Believe me, they are the smartest, the most vicious and dangerous.
- So, it must not be let live longer!
- My lord, an instant! It's strange, I've never seen one of these creatures behave so. He wants to talk to me, you say? he asked the sergeant.
- That's what it said, sir Jaeger.
- This is probably a ruse, Gottlieb grumbled.
- Possible.
- If I may, sir... dared Kerner.
The big man swung to the guard.
- So what? Speak, soldier!
- Have you seen what it wears around its neck?
Gottlieb and Jaeger looked again quickly at the White Skaven.
- Looks like a ranger horn?
- Yes, my lord, replied Schweigen. It is as he heard its signal that captain Rothemd decided to make a breakthrough.
- But Rothemd told me he saw no Human in the camp! Nothing but these… "Skaven" scavengers fleeing!
- You think this White Skaven would have called for help with this horn? Jaeger asked incredulously.
- That seems rather unusual! exclaimed the lord. But maybe it wanted to get our men into a trap?
- While there was already trouble in the camp?
- Yes, it began with the bell, sir, the sergeant recalled. Someone also destroyed their bell. What if it was it?
- So it allowed us to rout them, realised Jaeger.
- And what if not?
- Well, maybe he knows something? Anyway, if done the right way, we could make him talk? This is what he wants!
- Hmm... I really hesitate to take the risk of letting this little horror in.
- Take precautions, sir! Ask Kaufman!
- So what do we decide, my lord? the sergeant asked.
Gottlieb's ruddy face passed through several expressions.
Psody was sweating under the effect of the flame heat, and due to nervousness. Humans had opened fire on him once, they could do it again. He saw movement above his head, and realised that there was now a dozen muskets pointed towards him. He then heard the characteristic sound of heavy chains moving, while the drawbridge was lowered slowly to a stop in a crash. The portcullis rose.
Through the door of the castle, the White Skaven distinguished ten soldiers armed with halberds advancing in his direction. They were led by two Humans: a large man in armour, with two threatening big eyes over a hirsute beard, and a shorter man, who wore a gold tissue with leather reinforcements, his face hidden by a copper mask showed nothing but his mouth and chin. The Human in armour ordered:
- You, above, if it does a sudden move, you shoot! You, the mouse, drop this flag on the ground slowly. Very slowly.
The masked man was surely the magician who had undermined the Skaven with his powers. The little ratman felt the characteristic musk of fear exhale from his glands, and saw that he trembled all over his body. He lowered his flag and dropped the most slowly as he could.
Maybe it wasn't such a good idea!
- Good! said the chief. Now, put your hands on your head and do not move!
Again, Psody obeyed without daring to move superfluous. He saw the Human in armour whisper a few words to the attention of the Human in dress. The latter began to articulate some syllables, raised his hand, and a ray of light burst from between his fingers, reached the White Skaven directly to the head, which knocked him down, and all became dark.