Chapter Twenty One – Killing Time

"Do you actually know where we are going?"

This was not the first time the vampire had asked and it was unlikely that the now familiar glare from the woman would dissuade him from asking again in due course.

"We are going to where we need to be….that is all you need to know if you want my assistance in the future …..and I know you will need it." Her voice still sounded burnt from her rebirth and scratched at the ears of the listeners.

Hans and Viktor exchanged looks, the human glancing meaningfully at the vampire's hand which was at the hilt of his sword. He shook his head as he looked at the strange woman, her mud splattered and mostly naked form an unusual sight, even in these woods.

The growing madness of his situation had not escaped the elf captain, travelling through the forest with a servant of the dark powers, a vampire from perhaps the most infamous "family" of those creatures and of course a single unhappy human.

He had heard philosophers in his homeland and beyond discuss whether or not the world was a dream of the gods or even the ongoing nightmare of a single mortal. Most of those had been lovers of his mother and few of them had endeared themselves to her son, quite the opposite.

Lucarius cleared his throat, "My sister can recite various stock and meaningless prophecies and phrases…..I understand its part of her training at Hoeth. It has always struck me as being immensely annoying."

The woman actually stopped walking this time and turned to face the elf who met her glare with an equally impressive and practised mask of disdain – his mother had not taught him much but she knew how to show her displeasure and disinterest when she wanted to be rid of a lover. He was growing tired of all the verbal trickery and less inclined to humour the witch, no matter her power.

"I could leave you all here if that is your wish?"

"Can you though?" Hans growled, "I am not sure you can."

Everyone looked at the human, who scowled and spat, enveloping an unfortunate beetle in phlegm. He stared at it for a long minute until it finally struggled free and buried itself safely in the rotting leaf litter.

"Unexpected", she thought as she considered her next words, "perhaps we should have taken more notice of the human."

"I mean you are powerful, we have seen what you can do; you could likely kill us all. Why help us at all?"

"Perhaps it amuses her?" The vampire mused, but Hans shook his head.

"No, that's not it is it Witch?" He hefted his hammer as he spoke, its formidable weight apparently reassuring him.

"No, I would rather that you retrieve your friend and destroy Damar."

"Killing creatures of Chaos always sits well with me." Viktor smiled, his fangs glinted in the light, "as for the elf, well he's nothing to me."

He glanced at the elf captain, "He's your kin and your concern correct?"

The elf looked dubious at this, "well his people are …different from mine, but I guess you could say…."

"I count him as a friend." Hans cut across him.

"Good. Then perhaps we could move on?"

"I want to know why you want Damar destroyed?" Lucarius stepped close to the witch, who met his eyes with her own dark orbs.

"Because he is tiresome and I have no wish to spend eternity with such a dull mind."

"Is that the Truth?" He could be no closer without actually touching.

"It is… a truth."

The vampire alone laughed, "I am afraid that this is just like being back at court. Some advice my friend, do not ask for too much from such…creatures, truth is such a difficult concept for them to grasp."

The witch brushed past the elf and stepped up close to Viktor, who raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"Weak, terrified little entities that so fear death that they desperately hide amongst and cling to mortals - that is what you appear as to us."

"Dear lady, why should I care what you think, you and your kind are but the ghosts of dreams and nightmares, given form by the weak willed; your ephemeral visits to our realm are both fleeting and without any true importance."

Her smile was now as predatory as his, "We feed on what's left when mortal shells are finally exhausted, if they are fortunate they escape us, otherwise their agony is exquisite and can last an eternity. Yet when you and your kind die there is nothing, you are merely the slowly fading memories of what you once were, inhabiting your animated corpses until you finally give up the charade of life."

She stepped back and away so she could address them all.

"Listen carefully then you foolish creatures, for I will tell you an important Truth." Her expression was now feral, her skin writhing as anger pulsed through the entity that wore the mortal flesh.

"I seek to forestall and delay our final victory…. because Truthfully we enjoy playing the game more than winning."

She looked around at the three men, her anger slowly fading and without a further word stalked off into the trees.

"Well my friends, that was fun," the vampire smiled, shrugged and prowled after her.

Hans made to follow, but the elf held him back, ignoring the surprised scowl.

"Can we trust him any more than we can trust her?"

The former forester considered his response, "Well Lady Sabina considers him an ally, the same as she does you, that doesn't mean I trust him mind you…" his blue eyes did not flinch as he matched his gaze with the elf and left the rest unspoken.

He looked after the dark haired figure, "and I bet his hearing is even better than yours."

Viktor briefly raised a hand in recognition or agreement but did not pause.

"The world is now just death and darkness, perhaps it matters what we do, how we die, perhaps it doesn't, I don't know but I figure I will find out soon enough. I'd like to help Hasir if I can, maybe even get back to aid my Lady, but if I don't, well that's fine too. I have done my best, lost my best…" his voice broke a little and he turned away.

"Let's press on Captain; I am sure some kind of destiny awaits one of us."

Xx

The arrival of the great machine had created quite a stir, the townsfolk and mercenaries alike had been confronted by monsters and Daemons, witnessed heroism and cowardice, seen magical manifestations both glorious and terrible, but this was something very new.

It clanked and hissed its way through the battered streets, having barely managed to scrape its way through the gateway arch without damaging the war stained stone. Smoke billowed from its great funnel and its belly grumbled and roared as it moved. The children stood together with their guardian watching its bulk as it passed, all of them entranced by the noise and smell of the thing.

Inside the vehicle, Bardin Kilifisson allowed himself a smile as he glimpsed the open mouths of the children nearby and tugged lightly on a nearby cord. A piercing whistle sounded out across the town, startling many and bringing uncertain smiles to the children. He nodded and grinned, remembering his first view of a steam engine and the emotions that had arose in his breast at that moment – even manlings were not immune to its charm.

Slowly he brought his creation to a stop, seeing the shattered construction he had come to rebuild; its scared surface fenced off by crude barricades. With an indulgent second whistle the machine settled in place, shuddering and hissing as it did so.

Once it had come safely to a halt, he quickly emerged to view the work ahead; he nodded to the gathering crowd, tugging his well equipped tool belt thoughtfully. Guards still stood watchful on and around it, assessing the various humans gathering about who were chattering and gesticulating at the massive contraption that now dominated the weary ruins of their town.

Leaving the vehicle, the engineer was accompanied by an apprentice, matching frowns etched on their faces as they approached the bridge, noting the brutal truncation of the structure. They clambered through the barriers without pausing, scarcely noticing them and strode to the jagged, smoke blackened edge that hung over the dark slovenly water below.

Bardin ran a hand over the old stone, feeling the pain of its wounds, shaking his head at the torment inflicted on a once proud construction. He looked over at his apprentice who nodded solemnly.

"Terrible to see a good solid build left in such a state." Both of them had noted, to them, the unmistakable elements of dwarvish craftsmanship in the construction of the old bridge.

"This one is going to take a fair bit of work." The younger dwarf commented.

The engineer took a deep breath, "Aye, but we'll bring the lady back to life, lad - no doubt about that, we'll give her another few centuries."

He let his heavy hand trace a short series of almost forgotten runes that still proclaimed the original builder, silently mouthing the name in respect.

"Right then, lets get to work."

As he turned he became aware of a tall human approaching, an officer in the army by his armour and clothing, perhaps a cavalryman. Still considering the work to come, he realised that he was being addressed and glanced at the human.

"Did you want something?" He hoped not, manlings tended to panic about the smallest matters, and they seemed to enjoy talking for the sake of it.

"I said; where exactly is your escort, the rest of the army?" The voice was clipped and cool, the mark of a nobleman - he recognised it and ignored it – he knew his own value, always had.

"Ah right, I should think back on the road where we left them, likely still eating breakfast I shouldn't wonder. Lazy sods the lot of them; need a good hard kick up the backside."

Captain von Hirschfeld had dealt with dwarves before so he had been ready for the engineer's form of response. He vaguely remembered seeing this particular fellow before, in the camps of the oncoming army – he had had no cause to speak to him then, and the dwarves seldom bothered approaching or conversing with men without good reason.

"I am disappointed that they are not with you, Master…..?"

"Bardin, Master Engineer Bardin, Captain. My interest is in this bridge, as I have been commissioned, not the direction or discipline of the various manlings that serve our Emperor."

He looked about him, "although I see that this town sorely needs more soldiers…."

Xx

Sabina had watched the giant contraption clatter through the streets, noisy and startling in its sheer unyielding 'metallic bulk. She had seen many strange and wonderful things, magic's great and terrible, the strange swamp lands and stranger inhabitants of fabled Lustria and even helped kill a dragon, been enveloped and invigorated in it's oh so glorious blood.

She had not been surprised when the dwarves emerged, but the two men who emerged on their heels were unexpected and unwelcome. Powerfully built and bearing the symbols of their god on their head and in their hands, heavy warhammers, they had swept their gaze across the people gathered about them. She had noticed too the thick silver collars at their throats, and wondered if they were looking for her or at least creatures like her.

So when the cool blue eyes of the larger man met hers across the crowd, she felt a thrill of fear course through her slim body. He evidently also felt something for his eyes narrowed briefly and remained fixed on hers, a frown forming. She forced herself to maintain the contact and finally his expression relaxed and his eyes moved on – assessing the survivors that lingered in this damaged town.

For his part, Lothar was gladdened to see the men and women of Untergrad, too often that army had found only defiled corpses and burnt out settlements on the long hard march from Atldrof. They had taken what vengeance they could on the forces of Chaos but it was good to finally see some survivors!

Realising that the dwarves were now likely to fully engrossed in their Emperor given task, he drew breath, squared his shoulders and unleashed his voice, the powerful tones long practised in both warfare and worship.

"People of Untergrad," He paused to allow them to focus on him, most of them having fallen silent at the booming address.

"It is good to see that such stout hearts persist in the north, truly the blessing of Ulric must be upon you to stand so firm against the enemies that have risen against us."

He paused for effect, he had considered his words long and hard on the journey and unlike many of his brethren he realised that he must acknowledge the ancient god of his own patron deity as much as the Heldenhammer himself - Sigmar.

The townsfolk had mostly grown silent as he spoke, but their expressions were predominately neutral, most of the mercenaries had remained watchful on the wall, several having fought alongside dwarven war machines before. Lothar stood near his employer, watching the priests with suspicious eyes, his hand on his sword hilt, his teeth hard in his pipe.

"This is as it should be, the men and women of the Empire standing firm, together, united against the followers of the dark gods. So it was in the time of Sigmar and so it is now. The Heldenhammer came to Middenheim in its hour of need, with hammer and firebrand and so now does our Emperor ride against his enemies."

His voice grew stronger now, "Not only does the Emperor himself ride to your aid, but Sigmar has come again in the form of a man!" His pause was only momentary.

"Valten is the Heldenhammer reborn, he has been affirmed as such by all and now he bears great hammer of Sigmar, Ghal Maraz, given unto him by the Emperor."

"Not only does the weapon of the god fit truly and well in his hand but the dwarves, our ancient allies recognise and proclaim him as such, granting him the armour that the saviour of their High King was promised long ago."

His hand gestured behind him to the great machine, steam still hissing and rising from its funnels.

"Our old alliance holds true, even the elves of Ulthuan stand behind him, with him seeing in him a god arisen in wrath against our foes."

"It was always Sigmar's way to stand in the front line against his enemies – I come to do the same, and thousands, tens of thousands come with me. The enemy may not know it yet but the battle, the war is already won."

There was no resounding cheer as he finished but he saw many nods and even a few smiles – it was at least a start. Even the strange armed and armoured woman he had matched his gaze against had managed a half smile although now she looked away when she noticed his interest.

"We can't stay here, My lady." Lothar spoke quietly, his mouth near Sabina's ear.

"I know," her voice was equally quiet but also full of sadness.

Xx

Sergeant Raamstedt glanced over at the other man on his section of the wall; he was like him, no longer young. He was sure that that he too felt aches and pains at night where once he would have slept soundly and easily, both men's hair was also thinning and greying.

"Why do you serve such a creature?" He was genuinely intrigued, "it can't just be the money?"

In turn, Julius turned his attention from the distant tree line to the Pistolier – on the orders of his mistress, he had joined the man and his captain on the wall as the dwarf machine had approached. Until now, both men had studiously ignored him.

"She pays well, that can't be underestimated as well you know Sergeant." He paused as unsure, then persevered, "She has done everything she said she would, kept every promise she has made, she has bled alongside us and saved our lives – what more could I ask in a captain."

The Pistolier considered this, a deep frown furrowing his brow but he shook it off.

"You realise that she will burn?"

"You gonna make that happen are you?" Julius snorted in derision, "Just like you hanged Albrecht?"

The sergeant coloured, "when the army gets here, things will be different – you should consider that, think about your future perhaps?"

"What concern of yours is my future?" Julius had turned back to his observation of the woods.

"Those who consort with witches and Daemons often face the same fate as their damned patrons."

"Lady Sabina is neither a witch nor a Daemon." His voice was now cold and controlled, but perhaps a little too practised, "if that is indeed who you speak of and I should warn you….sergeant, men have died for making such accusations about noblewomen in the past without evidence."

"Do you really think that she will survive the scrutiny of the priests of Sigmar we saw arriving?"

"It matters not." The mercenary now sounded very tired.

"Why?"

"Because I don't think we are going to survive them."

The alarm was beginning to sound as Raamstedt turned to face where the man was looking and felt the fear sweep through him.

Emerging from the woods was a horde of beastmen, armoured warriors and creatures of the damned. They were silent and unhurried, seemingly uncaring that their approach was being noted and the defenders called to their posts.

The final siege of Untergrad had begun.

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