Psody slowly opened his eyes, the features of his face slowly relaxed. He saw the handle of Ko'Liňon's trident front of him, vertically. The weapon was planted in the ground at less than a foot from him. He was very embarrassed to feel a strong smell of urine, the emotion had been too strong. He tried to move, bit couldn't. Lianas pressed him so hard that he couldn't feet his own hands or feet. He was completely in thank you for the Man-Lizard. Moreover, he could not count on the help of his fellow travelers. They were probably too far.
Why did I send the others away? I wanted to fight like the fairytales heroes, one by one, with fair play... that's the way it'll end!
The Skink priest drew a sharp blow on the handle of his weapon to remove it from the soil. Then he looked again the little ratman, and said slowly:
- You're young, impetuous, and you don't lack audacity, even if it will bring you nothing but trouble. I consent to grant you one last chance, young Skaven. If I release my grip, if I let you go, you'll have to leave the country as soon as possible, and never return. So, what do you decide?
Psody had increasingly difficult to breathe, but his anger didn't diminish therefore, however.
I'll pretend to accept his deal, and as soon as he backs me, I...
- Do not even think about it, then cut the voice of the priest.
Psody blinked, frightened to see how far the power of his opponent was. Desperate, he grumbled:
- May the Horned Rat... eat your dim-witted soul!
- I see. I expected you to say something else. Sincerely.
- I'll go... in this temple... and discover… its secrets!
- You're using your last breaths. You lost, and you know it.
- You won't... never stop me, you naughty stink!
Like when he engaged the combat, Ko'Liňon quivered his collarette.
- You let me no alternative.
He brandished his trident in one hand above his head, ready to swing it down on the little ratman. The latter felt his heart about to explode in panic. In a flash, a thousand more scary and tragic as each other images went through his mind: the fork stuck in his stomach, his body eaten by cold-things, hordes of Skaven walking on Altdorf, Felix looking at him with a terrible disappointment in his eyes. As he saw Heike crying all the tears of his body, he felt a great burst of energy ignite each of his fibres.
- NO!
Ko'Liňon suspended his gesture, and stood still, surprised, during one second. And this second was enough to reverse the course of events. Psody curled up and stretched his arms and legs with all his might. In the same way he destroyed the clearing of the Dryad, months before, he invoked a powerful energy that immediately created a green energy vortex which disintegrated in a heartbeat all the lianas holding him. The impact pushed violently the Skink priest who was thrown back.
Psody fell to his knees and took a full gulp of air greedily, as he wanted to fill his lungs in one breath. He shook his head, and stood up painfully. A few steps away, Ko'Liňon leaned on the handle of his weapon to stabilise himself. The young White Skaven dashed to his opponent. The Lizardman brandished his trident to try to stop him in his rush. Psody had the reflex to jump on the side, with the fuliginous Skaven way. He grabbed the handle of the spear in turn in both hands, and pulled with all his strength.
Both fighters remained a few seconds to force, each on his side. The outcome of this struggle was uncertain: the little ratman was not very strong, and the old Skink had lost his former vigour. Psody thought at full speed. He shouldn't leave any opening. Suddenly, he had an idea.
With a start, he lowered his head and tried to plant his horns into the chest of the Lizardman. When he stood up, he understood his trick had succeeded. The Skink had dropped his weapon and reflexively jumped back, narrowly avoiding his horns. But he was now disarmed. Psody reacted immediately, he wouldn't commit the same mistake as the Lizardman. Without any hesitation, he sprang forward and plunged the trident with all his might in the scaly chest of the priest, with a terrible cry.
Ko'Liňon opened his mouth, and for the first time, Psody heard his natural voice. Rather, he heard a kind of croaking very low and very loud. His big round narrowed eyes rolled in every direction, and he fell on the grass. The young White Skaven put his foot on the chest of the priest, and took off the trident with a jerk. A yellowish blood spurted with a rolling boil from the three holes bursting the skin of the Skink.
Psody remained so, taking his breath, dazed, gazing Ko'Liňon. Suddenly he realised what he had done, and there was no way back. He hurriedly released the trident, and looked at his hands. His knuckles were compressed so he had tightened the weapon, and the fluff that covered his fingers was stained with yellow spots. He knelt beside the priest. The breath of the Skink was already weak, and the blood profusely flowed from his mouth.
- What have I done?! he asked, devastated.
- All is well, my friend, sounded in his mind the voice of the Lizardman.
- I... I'm... sorry!
- You really don't have to. It was written. You wanted at all costs to enter the temple to discover its secrets. My duty was to protect it, risking my life. I was about to kill you, and you defended yourself. I finally fought someone stronger than me, that's all. We did what we had to. The gods gave us instructions to follow.
- I... I didn't do it only for the Horned Rat.
- Your beliefs must be very strong, however, since they permit you to beat me, while I faced more seasoned than you. And I don't think I so lost my power with age.
Psody didn't answer, he just nodded affirmatively, slowly.
- Tell me, Ko'Liňon said, you got me because at the last time, you used a much mightier power, and I let myself be surprised. This is not warpstone. Your mind is too alert. So what? Where have you drawn that mental strength from?
- From… Love.
The White Skaven saw the shadow of a smile passing over Ko'Liňon's facies.
- A strange thing. The Skinks are cold-blooded, so they don't feel emotions, but they know what it is. I thought Skaven were completely devoid of this one?
- I'm not an ordinary Skaven. I am a chosen one of the Horned Rat... but above all, I am Psody, and I want to make my kind progress by wisdom. And most importantly... I met... a wonderful girl. It is to be at peace with myself, and to live happily with her... I do all of it.
Ko'Liňon didn't answer immediately, but a last respectful spark shone deep into his split-warded eyes.
- In this case, she's very lucky. I feel it now, this is not Chaos that makes you strong, unlike the other Skaven. I believe that, ultimately, your access to the temple won't be a vile desecration.
- I did not want to desecrate! I... I regret!
- What should be is now. I should have paid more attention. I can't blame anybody but myself. Come on, you've won, you must respect the tradition.
Psody stood up, and looked at Ko'Liňon. He wouldn't live very long, but enough for what the Skaven had to do. He spread the skirts of his coat, and lifted his shirt to his bellybutton. But while his other hand downed to his crotch, it stopped halfway. He grimaced, shook his head and straightened his clothing. Then he picked up his short sword lying on the floor. He didn't know if the Skinks had the heart to the same location as his own, so he didn't take the risk to goof. He firmly passed his blade through the throat of the Lizardman. A yellow and thick blood spurted from the gaping wound, while a fat hissing sounded, such as the explosion of a wetlands gas pocket. Ko'Liňon died in a few seconds, his scaly face stiffened into an expression of ecstatic relief.
Psody wiped the shiny metal of his weapon, put it away, and stretched out his arms to the sky. He remembered brother Pieter and his tribute to Günter the day before, and spoke in a loud voice in his native language.
- Oh, Horned Rat, god of Skaven, hear my prayer! I, Psody, I just challenge and confront this priest of the god Sotek. Ko'Liňon was a strong and worthy warrior. He fought in honouring his kind! I beg you, Horned Rat! In your infinite wisdom, although this god is your worst enemy, respect the brave ones and ask the god of this valiant Skink to receive his noble soul to him, because he deserves it. Hear my prayer, and be thanked.
Then he knelt down and prayed near the body of Ko'Liňon. A few tears shyly slipped on his fluffy cheeks.
A few steps away, Hallbjörn and Abigail were motionless. Stood behind Romulus and Nedland, they had heard the distant tumult of the mages battle. Distraught, they had rushed to the rescue, and had witnessed the conclusion of this meeting.
- Captain, you saw what I saw?
- I didn't understand a word, but the rest seemed very clear. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.
- I feel that our friend has just one more step.
- Yep. But in which direction?
The two friends joined Psody. The latter got up as they approached.
- Oh, you're back...
- So this is a Lizardman, Hallbjörn muttered, as he crouched near the body of the priest.
- This is a Skink, specified the little ratman. I had to kill him, to pass. I told him I just wanted to stay a few hours to study the bas-reliefs, but he didn't want to listen anything. I had to choose between death for me or for him.
Abigail gave him a reproachful glance.
- Why did you approach the temple without us? We could have confront him together!
- In fact, I drove you away to fight him alone.
Upon hearing this statement, Hallbjörn jumped up.
- Gosh! Congratulations for your confidence! Perhaps you think I've never faced a wizard?
- Hallbjörn, it was between him and me. A duel of magicians. That's it. You're a warrior, it's the kind of thing you know, isn't it?
The mercenary relaxed.
- Yeah, right. But next time, try to let us know.
- We are brothers in arms, now, Psody. If you have this kind of problem, we must help you deal with, Abigail explained.
- But we will let you start or accept a duel, without interfering, Hallbjörn added. We can understand, it's part of our laws.
Sister Abigail approached:
- Seriously, do not go too far away from us during this mission! Remember, unlike most of Captain Ludviksson's mercenaries, someone waits for your come back.
- Sister, you can say "all of mercenaries", clarified the Norse.
- Anyway, do not risk your life for a mere bravado. This person is more important. She is too important to stupidly risk your life.
- Yes... You are right-right, sister Abigail.
The Norse took a few steps in the direction of the bridge, and in a powerful voice, imitated the cry of the wolf three times. Sister Abigail stared at the small temple still. Fifteen minutes later, Nedland and Brother Tomas joined them. They were surprised to see Ko'Liňon.
- First time in my life I see one of them, the Halfling muttered.
- Have you not been already here? the clerk of Verena asked.
- Indeed, but I saw critters and plants only.
- How the little white rat said it was called?
- Skink, said Tomas, who had read Marco Colombo's travelogues, too. The first explorers who established a relationship of equals with the Lizardmen have noticed there are at least four distinct species in these people. This one is a Skink: they present the features of the water salamander, and are the ones who talk to the Humans the most willingly.
- Can you describe the other three species? Sister Abigail asked.
- Of course. The most common are the Saurus warriors. They are as big as humans, and really look like lizards on two feet. These are the warriors who form the bulk of their armies. Fierce, strong and sturdy. But the most formidable in combat are the Kroxigors. They are huge, measuring an average of nine feet high, and have a terrible strength.
- Well... Hallbjörn muttered. And the fourth kind?
- The Slann... Huge toads collapsing under their own fat. These are the spiritual and military masters of this people. They are very few, but could live thousands of years. You can imagine their mentality is not comparable to most of other people.
The Norse looked up, realising that the little ratman didn't say a word, and didn't even listen to the conversation. Psody had taken out a folding shovel from Tomas's tool backpack. Hallbjörn raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the White Skaven White digging a hole near the body of the Lizardman. When he realised the four Human and the Halfling were watching him doing, he paused and asked hesitantly:
- What brother Pieter did when he threw Günter in the sea... does it also works on the ground?
- If you're planning to put him in this hole and reseal is, it does.
The young ratman gave a small nod and continued his work. The Norse came and raised his hand.
- Come on, give me that shovel.
- Huh?
- You are a priest by formation, your role is rather to make him the last rites. Think about what to say, while I dig.
- But... I don't know what to say!
- We saw you earlier. I didn't understand, but the passion was there. You'll just have to start over.
The White Skaven nodded and handed the shovel to the mercenary. Hallbjörn began to dig, and the young ratman knelt rat body, put his hand on the cold front of the Lizardman, closed his eyes and murmured an improvised prayer. Romulus, Tomas and Abigail remained behind, each one meditating with his divinity, in his own way. After a few minutes, the hole was big enough, the Norse and the prior deposited the corpse of the Skink, with all his equipment with the exception of his totem. Hallbjörn corked the grave and planted the pole in the pile of dirt.
- That's it! Thus, it is shown he's respected, even in death.
- Ha! This is something that no Skaven would think to do!
- Really? What do Skaven do with their dead? Tomas asked.
Psody cleared his throat.
- Well... generally, Skaven die in battle, against an enemy or after a quarrel between themselves. Slaves die by exhaustion or disease, or by taking strikes. Death can come at any time, and we don't question about the existence of an afterlife. So the dead are left behind when we flee the battlefield... or even when we won! Or, those who die in good health...
Seeing the young White Skaven hesitating, Hallbjörn frowned.
- So?
- So everyone needs to live, right? A Skaven whose meat isn't rotten by disease, poison or warpstone can make a good meal.
- What? Are you telling us that the Skaven are… cannibals?
- Is that so surprising to you?
- Not so much.
The clerk of Verena realised something:
- And you? Have you ever eaten Skaven?
- I am a Grey Seer, I have always been given the best meat during my stay in Brissuc. I have not always known what it was, especially when I was a pup. I ate Human meat, and it is possible I have already nibbled Skaven parts. But I learned to eat fruits and vegetables and other meats. In addition, Romulus told me in the Empire, eating Humans is a crime that can send you to the stake.
- Remind me never to accept an invitation to dinner without you inform me about the provenance of the food!
- Hallbjörn, if I survive you, I will bury you into the ground, not in my stomach. I promise.
The Norse chuckled with a lightly nervous laugh, but stopped when he saw the figure of the young Skaven collapsing.
- So what?
- I just realised something: Love gave me the strength to overcome him... and therefore, to kill him. I thought it was a creative energy, and nothing else? Now, I just killed someone! Has Love a destructive side?
- Oh, well... Love can make you do crazy things, explained Romulus. This is the opposite of reason.
The large pink eyes of the Zhite Skaven twinkled. A small tear slid down his cheek.
- I regret having killed him. This is... this is the first time... I regret that.
Hallbjörn friendly patted the shoulder of the ratman.
- Listen, for this guy, you have no regret or remorse to have. Remember two things, little white rat. First, according to what you've told us, he wouldn't hesitate to skewer you. Second, he just assumed his choice.
- What choice? He had no choice, he had to respect the word of his god!
- No, no, no. Experience has taught me that as long as you're alive, you always have choice. Even in the most desperate situations, you can choose to give up, or fight. He chose to obey orders, as you chose to leave your people a few months ago, and just as you chose to defend your life. If he had chosen to let you pass without fuss, he would still be alive. He chose his end. Come on, wasted enough time! We have a temple to visit!
He picked up the tool bag and walked with a resolute step towards Tixoco temple, quickly followed by the others.
Temple Tixoco certainly was not very big, but it was relatively well preserved. Contrary to the fears of Romulus, the place had not been completely overrun by greenery. The Skink priest had probably ensured maintenance. The Norse and the Templar settled torches on the walls, and the flickering light ended to illuminate dark areas away from sunlight passing through the opening. Captain Ludviksson gave a long whistle of admiration.
- Oh yeah! This is scientific stuff!
The famous fresco briefly analysed by Marco Colombo appeared to all eyes in its entirety. The Estalian explorer hadn't been able to copy much of it. The drawing in stone took place as a mineral tapestry along the entire length of the opposite wall to the entrance, and the other two perpendicular walls. Left, impressive scenes where Lizardmen erected a city, prayed towards a bright sun which appeared in a reptilian face grimacing, succeeded. The right wall had other more unexpected scenes: Lizardmen carrying between their arms small beings imaged with a pointed snout, long teeth and round ears. The more the fresco marched to the left, the more the small ones grew up, and mingled with the activities of the Lizardmen.
Psody looked at the right wall closer. They were Skaven indeed.
Dressed like cold-things, acting like cold-things, they really participate in the life of cold-things!
And as the etching progressed from right to left, the Skaven were becoming more and more numerous, and more and more assured. Finally, right in the centre of the end wall, Lizardmen and Skaven came together and knelt before the character that stood right in the middle. It was the character Marco Colombo was deemed most worthy to be remembered. The little ratman gloated to be able to see him with his own eyes, but also had a twinge on his heart: no sudden vision, no revelation. He narrowed his eyes, craned his neck to the fresco.
The individual who seemed to be the main actor in the scene seemed slightly huger than the other characters. He was raising his arms to the sky, revealing four fingered hands with long, sharp nails. He wore a cloak made with bird feathers, and a ringed tail stocked out from under his cloak. Two horns protruded from both sides of his skull, but his face didn't match that of a Skaven: the head was round, and his features were not those of a ratman: large protruding eyes, a grinning mouth, a forked tongue ... he remembered another detail.
A mask! It was about a mask! I guess the sculptor represented him with this mask.
The clerk of Verena friendly patted the shoulder of the little ratman, pulling him out of his reverie.
- Okay, let's go, we've got work! You come?
- Uh... yes, my friend.
Tomas was one of the few members of the expedition who sympathised with the young White Skaven upon their departure, while travelling on the Determinazione. Between men of religion, they quickly established a friendly relationship such as they spoke without manners. Moreover, Tomas was the youngest member of the expedition apart the small ratman, and both were about the same age, which approached them more.
The clerk of Verena hadn' been chosen by chance to be part of the expedition: of all the members of the Order of the Keepers of Truth, he was the one who knew the most about Lizardmen. He had heard some legends of this people as a child, and since then had done everything to glean as much information as possible about them. He had begged his parents to take him to the greatest libraries of the Empire to study them. Such an enthusiasm was quickly spotted by Verena priests, who offered him to join their ranks. The young Tomas had accepted with enthusiasm, he had understood well this was the best way to extend the field of his knowledge.
His brilliant intellect and excellent memory helped him more than once to solve a mystery. Few living or dead languages were unknown to him, and he was trained to decipher some of the few Lizardmen glyphs recovered by imperial explorers.
This time, however, the challenge was daunting. It was a complete story whose characters followed the mural on its entire length. The images were the illustrations, and the young clerk hoped the little ratman could help him understand, once the meaning roughly translated.
He was down to work and picked up from the leather bag all his equipment. He took a few minutes to unfold and install a portable console. He took out his writing materials, retreated a few steps away from the wall to see it in its entirety, and thought for a moment.
- Well, well, where to start... Ah!
He hastened to take notes, muttering softly the translation.
- "Walk... on the way... of Sotek. Listen to his word... understand... his ideals."
He turned to his companions.
- It will take some time. If you want to peep around or do something else, please do it. I imagine that within this room, there is no danger.
- I'll still check there are no hidden device, Nedland suggested. Stories of traps or secret passages flow in my profession.
- Psody, can you see something?
- Not really...
- We'll see when I finish.
But the little ratman didn't pay more attention to anything. In fact, another sad idea was already torturing his brains for a few minutes. Without a word, he walked towards the exit of the temple. After a few steps far of the structure, he returned to the tomb of the priest, and remained on his knees near the mound.
- It's all my fault... and the fault of the destructive character... of the Sons of the Horned Rat!
He remained an indefinable time so. The voice of the Myrmidia Templar pulled him out of his daze. He turned, his nose stuffy and his eyes reddened. Without a word, the woman hugged him, and let him cry on his shoulder again. After a long minute, the White Skaven calmed down a bit.
- Well! For someone who has failed to slay you, you seem to regret his loss a lot!
- That's my reaction… I regret, Sister Abigail. Now I look back, I realise... I acted like a brat! As soon as I saw him, I don't know why, I wanted to be aggressive! As if my instinct led me to hate him and provoke his anger! He just asked me to go, I didn't listen! If I had been wiser, things...
- You don't know. You've told us he was ready to kill you. If you had obeyed, you would have left without the answers to your questions. Your desire to know the truth was stronger. Would you have supported returning to the Empire and spend the rest of your days to ask you the same questions forever?
- Was it worth the life of a honourable priest?
The Templar sighed.
- Hard to say, I agree. Well, take this as a new lesson. Now, when you are faced with a similar situation, you will think about this priest, and remember that violence, even if it is unfortunately sometimes necessary, is the worst solution. People like Captain Ludviksson find their account within, some will delight with, and I am among those who find nothing glorious in war, only death and destruction. However, I am optimistic: your reaction proves once again how much you think like a Human. From what I was told by Romulus, Skaven never learn from their mistakes, and that is their main problem. It is a defect you gradually learned to correct. I don't know who gave you the foundation of our system of thought, but this person was an excellent teacher. She would be proud of you. And if this tragic episode will help you later to build something better for our two peoples, then it was worth a life.
- Maybe... maybe that's what he wanted to tell me before I...
- Come on, think no more. You come with me?
The little ratman dried his tears, and both returned to Tixoco. Once in the temple, the prior of Shallya asked:
- You feel better, my young friend?
- I don't know, Romulus. I... I am really tired of magic. The Horned Rat has given me a gift envied by all my peers, and most of yours, but as long as I'll use it to destroy and corrupt, I can't change forever.
The priest of Shallya put a friendly hand on the shoulder of the small White Skaven.
- You know, it may be possible to arrange that, too.
- How so?
- You're still young and you have time. I wonder if you couldn't learn to use the winds of magic otherwise?
- You think so?
- Yes. Master Steadyhand may be able to help you.
- He's a Bright Mage. He purifies by flames, I suppose?
- He does, but maybe he knows another Mage who could teach you a more beneficial magic? Someone from College of Light, or Jade?
- Jade?
- Magic of life, which fertilises the plants and cures pain. You learned to rot, learning to do the opposite may be easier than learning something completely different?
- Maybe... Psody replied thoughtfully.
Tomas made a hand gesture in their direction.
- Come and see! I begin to understand!
Psody and Romulus marched, joined by Abigail, Nedland and Hallbjörn. All waited anxiously what was going to tell the clerk of Verena. He coughed and explained:
- If I believe what I'm reading, basically... it is about an isolated city where the Slann people tried to approach the Skaven people.
- How so?
- Well ... first, the Slann have "delivered mothers and their children from the clutches of their captors". They took breeders, and have welcomed them with Skaven children.
- What?
Psody couldn't believe it.
- Yes! That explains the bas-relief where cold-things and Skaven seem to get closer thanks to the central character.
- Did they really create a city where they raised Skaven by their principles?! Ludviksson asked sceptically.
- It has not gone wrong! The beginning seemed promising, according to this text.
- But the cold-things are secular enemies of the Skaven people for thousands of years!
- It was the initiative of a young Slann named Xarkish. This priest was ordained by the Venerable Lord Kroak, you can see on this bas-relief in the corner, on the left.
- Yes, this is the great golden mask with the snake totem I saw in Marco Colombo's book, approved Psody. When did this happen?
- About two thousand years ago. Xarkish oversaw the construction of a small town to create an entire society. This city was named Capatec Hanahuac.
- I have the feeling Steiner is not so innovative, ultimately. Too bad for him.
- I think he will survive, quipped Romulus, especially if what we bring him gives him the basics of something he could do.
This time, Tomas looked surprised.
- He wants to establish a state where Skaven and Humans would live together?
- When he formally adopted Heike, he told me he had already thought about what he could do if, in one way or another, she had children.
- He didn't say anything about it to me! And this is madness! Psody exclaimed.
- Maybe not. Heike and you... would be the firsts, said the young archivist, smiling.
The young Skaven White had a doubtful face.
- We are only two, to found a city, it's not enough! Besides, what would say your people if it is known? Your churches? And Dwarves, and Elves? They would all league against us!
- It is not because they are numerous to be wrong they are right, Psody, said Tomas.
- Even the Slann have renounced! Besides, why? What happened?
- The Slann had started well, and could have gone further in other circumstances. One of the first sons of the Horned Rat homed by them was a White Skaven. He was "just out of his mother's womb". They named him... wait, that's a Slann name with a particular pronunciation... "Cuelepok".
Suddenly, the little ratman felt a spark briefly illuminate his mind. A feeling of déjà vu, as if this name was really familiar to him.
- This is the first time I hear this name, yet it reminds me something, vaguely... What can you tell us about him?
- As he became an adult, he was appointed by Xarkish as head of the colony. Educated according to the Slann precepts, he aimed to help them in their projects to balance the world.
- You think this is him, on the centre of the famous bas-relief? The masked figure with his kind of horns?
- I'm even sure, my sister. The text says he was very wise, but he knew that his life was not commensurate with Xarkish's. He did everything to be humble, and saw himself as a servant of the Slann people and Sotek, not as a leader. He did everything to be conciliatory toward both Skaven and Lizardmen who lived together. Unfortunately for him, many other Slann considered him as a danger. For the mage priests, Capatec Hanahuac was becoming gangrene. The Lizardmen were at war against the Skaven "that carry the disease".
- Clan Pestilens, muttered the White Skaven. So what?
- The mage priests feared to see the Skaven of the city ally with Pestilens and undermine them from within, and from the pressure of his subordinates, Kroak ended the project, it involved the destruction of any trace.
Psody then understood that what the clerk was telling was neither more nor less than the explanation of the visions he had.
- Indeed, yes... I've seen it all! I attended the first births, and some moments of everyday life, then this... great cleaning. There was actually a White Skaven. What happened to this Cuelepok?
- No one can tell. He was extensively tortured for example, but managed to escape. He has never been seen him since. However, he wouldn't go empty-handed. He took something with him.
- It is written, too? Hallbjörn asked.
- Yes. In fact, it is the last sentence of the story. Basically, it says: "Cuelepok disappeared, taking his secrets and the source of his last conflict with Venerable Lord Kroak".
Psody closed his eyes and concentrated, concentrated as ever. He felt a clue was hiding in a corner of his mind. He focused his thoughts on the visions he had seen about Cuelepok's tragic story. A phrase came back to him. Something that was said at the White Skaven.
- "And give us this abjection! This is sacrilege!"
- What? What is sacrilege? the prior asked.
The little ratman put his finger on the central character of the engraving.
- This! He's wearing a gold mask, like Kroak. It is his friend Xarkish who gave him this gift, but Kroak's goons didn't agree, and then seized it from him. Maybe he managed to get it back before fleeing?
- That's possible, Hallbjörn muttered. In any case, this "Venerable Lord Kroak" seemed to be a bounded tyrant bastard. He preferred to stay in his ignorance and erase all traces!
Nedland silently nodded. He knew before his mercenary life, the Norse had been in the regular Imperial Army, and had been confronted too often to stuck in the system captains or lieutenants. Hallbjörn had finally quit, and had kept a certain aversion to leaders more conscious of the protocol than efficiency.
- Are you sure of what you saw? Sister Abigail asked.
- Sure, my Sister. But it makes me think about something else!
Psody turned to Romulus.
- These visions may be a message from Cuelepok himself? The Horned Rat wanted his spirit to meet mine? And this is him who's trying to talk to me?
- It's still not him that ordered you to kill Gotrek and Felix?
The White Skaven thought more.
- I wonder if sir Jaeger was right? Vellux told me Grey Seers are all bound together by the will of the Horned Rat. Maybe it's not a lie? And if Cuelepok spoke to me, then Thanquol...
- Could have been talking to you, too, and give you orders, but with much less friendly intentions! the prior ended. Have you seen him, recently?
- No. I wonder if the visions with Thanquol weren't related to warpstone? That's when I took the warpstone that Thanquol started talking to me. However, in recent months, I had no contact with warpstone. I feel Thanquol is no longer able to poison my mind, and Cuelepok takes over back.
- Yeah, in other words, you have two white rats who are fighting each other for the monopoly to invade your cum! Hallbjörn chuckled. How fun!
- Can you tell me since when you feel less Thanquol's wrath? Romulus asked.
The little ratman thought deeply.
- I think... since I arrived in Altdorf. Since I started working with sir Steiner. Since...
- Since you acquainted with Heike, completed the prior with a small smile. Your mind is less tormented, and also stronger, because your mood has improved.
Tomas finished correcting his notes and asked the young White Skaven:
- So, does it remind you anything else?
- No. I was hoping to see something, but eventually... I'm disappointed.
- We did what we could, Psody, reassured Romulus. And maybe this temple has not yet revealed all its secrets?
- It's crazy, moreover, added Nedland. If the Venerable Lord Kroak ordered the complete eradication of tame Skaven and the destruction of Capatec Hanahuac, how could we find this story, in this temple? Does this place have escaped his vigilance?
- Good question, replied the little ratman. Tomas, you read a lot about the cold-things, you wouldn't... Tomas?
The young clerk of Verena seemed troubled.
- There is another problem. I managed to translate the entire text, with the exception of a small part.
- Which one?
Tomas showed a corner of the fresco. The symbols were quite different from the rest.
- This is another language, and I don't get a word.
- So, you have failed to understand the meaning?
- Unfortunately not, prior Romulus.
Psody looked in turn, narrowed his eyes... and a long amused smile stretched his lips.
- It doesn't surprise me!
- Hey, it's not very nice! the clerk protested, stung. I do what I can!
- I'm sure, Tomas. But I'm the only one who can translate it!
There was a short stunned silence, that Psody used to explain:
- It is a secret language that is only transmitted from Grey Seer mouth to Grey Seer ear. Even Skaven scholars who are not direct servants of the Horned Rat don't know how to read it.
- Cuelepok could have learned to speak it without having been raised by a Grey Seer?
- I guess Slann could wrest the secret to a Grey Seer they had captured, and transmit it to Cuelepok so he could read the coded messages, Romulus suggested. What does it say?
- This is a series of numbers. Do you mind?
Psody handed to Tomas, implicitly asking his parchment and quill. He copied the symbols, scribbled notes, and showed the result to Romulus.
- I understand these numbers, but not what they mean...
- And I do understand very well what they indicate, Psody. Whoever the author, he took care to use a universal system. And besides, it makes sense: the one the Elves of Ulthuan have transmitted to Humans, and that they themselves should have received from the Slann. These are coordinates!
- Coordinates? And, in your opinion, what do they indicate?
- Come on, Psody, don't tell me you don't have an idea!
The White Skaven clapped his hands.
- Capatec Hanahuac!