Daylight gradually brightened the heavens, and the warmth of the sun passed through the glass window. The occupants of the throne room perceived it. Some dragged themselves towards the exit to go rest, others could no longer move. A Skaven was even in a full alcoholic coma, and was snoring loudly, its nose buried in its own vomit.
A hoarsely, shaken by violent coughing voice, rose above all the heads. It was the old Skaven dressed with a bure on which were sewn bells. Heike couldn't see its face covered with a canvas bag, but she hadn't any regret, she was certain that its facies was a source of inspiration for Human children nightmares. The one-eyed monk was accompanied by some decrepit ratmen, even more horrifying than the others. It hobbled to the throne and crunched a few words in an incomprehensible to the human ear language.
- He just asked me what I intend to do now. Bah! Now, with this castle, I have everything to succeed. And most importantly... I have... you!
The young girl startled. Vellux noticed it, turned to the old masked face Skaven, muttered a few words, and the two giggled together. He went with a slow voice:
- Well, even without being treated with warpstone... you must be fertile! I should still make you lay... some descendants! Must make... my blood continue-live.
He laughed heartily, while the young Skaven girl gulped, with fear and disgust. It was three full days that these louts shamelessly plundered the food reserves of Gottliebschloss. The throne room was now in a lamentable state. Food waste of all kinds were spread on the parquet, beer barrels were spilled, and alcohol mingled with bodily fluids, which didn't prevent the diseased Skaven lick the mixture on the floor. But despite appearances, the most disgusting was the leader.
Vellux had first chained her to the throne, then, the supreme insult, had urinated on her, and designating her as his exclusive property. He had stained her clothes and left his nauseating smell on her! Fortunately, he didn't anything more. Since the Skaven had brought victuals, he ate and drank without stopping, sprawled in the big overstuffed chair of the previous lord. His tongue had become pasty, his voice stammered, and his ballooning belly let out foul and crackling gas. This state had the advantage of retaining his libido. Too stunned by drink, he wasn't able anymore to give vent to his lustful urges and hadn't been further than a few caresses on the spine or the head of his prisoner, like for a puppy.
The ratgirl was sickened by this orgy. All around her was nothing but stinging smells and vulgar exclamations, a real torture for a person accustomed to the refinements of the imperial bourgeoisie. The worst moments for her self-esteem were those when she had to satisfy her natural needs. When she saw all the congregation contemplate giggling the first time, as she had made every effort to remain hidden behind the chair, she had to resolve to wait for the first light of day, the time at which the ratmen finally consented to sleep.
Fear was constant. Even when she dozed off in turn, she was roughly awakened by a squealing or an exclamation, and she wasn't able to determine if it came from one of Vellux's Skaven or from her subconsciousness. But there were a few times when she surprised herself feeling another emotion even more worrisome. By late afternoon, after copiously gorged, her captors inspired her more disgust than terror, and at times, it was not the fear of death that gripped her intestines, but anger.
How such a sincere, delicate, nice person as Psody may have grown amid these degenerates? she thought. Vellux is right to fear him, sooner or later, he would have revolted against him!
Completely unaware of the storm that shook the spirit of the young girl, Vellux's Skaven continued to pig themselves and cheer the Grey Seer between two gasps. Master Mutator Skilit, in particular, was delighted.
- You are the mozt beautiful-great-intellizent Grey Zeer throughout the Under-Empire! Thankz to your incomparable zpirit, we manazed to inztallhere, and I have now the raw material in abundanze for my experienzes!
- Glad you like it, Master Mutator!
Grey Seer frowned when he noticed at the head of Clan Moulder a small detail that he had not seen before.
- What is this great cloak? You never wear this kind of cloak?
- You are abzolutely right, three times three times very observant eye of the Horned Rat. Zust before leaving Brissuc, I had an idea. A new mutazion which may, I am sure, be particularly useful. My azziztants helped me; I could have done it by myself, but when you have effizient-effizient minions, why don't you use them?
- Yes, why? repeated Vellux, his mind gradually clouded by alcohol, digestion and slumber.
One Skaven, fours on the carpet, lifted its bottom, up its tail, and a resounding fart burst into the room. Heike's face frowned in disgust while the ratmen copiously laughed. Then she made out a shadow behind the throne, and she felt a tingling electrify her spine. The shadow was a Skaven with an all black coat, and whose eyeballs barely visible beneath its hood sparkled like two globes of darkness. The ratgirl sensed that Skaven was more vicious than others, but couldn't explain how. The black-coated Skaven leaned to the Grey Seer, and whispered something in his ear. Vellux answered by a clumsy hand gesture before collapsing in his chair. It didn't take long to fall asleep. Like the other Skaven present. A few minutes later, while the Skaven girl could finally see the sun through the window, silence fell in the throne room.
Heike looked down at the bowl, had again a painful grimace as she saw the raw and bloody meat inside, but the appeal of her stomach was stronger. She consented to nibble her "meal" in small bites.
Heike opened her eyes and saw the moonlight through the window. Several hours had passed, and Skaven were awaking. Upset grunts and unhappy squeals sounded. She quickly took refuge of sight while there was still time to relieve her stomach. When she returned to her place, she saw that the Skaven were all in a bad mood, probably because of their overeating. Vellux rubbed his forehead with a haggard.
- How do the men-things not getting sick-sick?
- I think they are more moderate, o sublime glorified incarnation of the Horned Rat, the Deacon Soum muttered.
The Grey Seer smiled at the sight of the breeder sat at the foot of his throne. He squeaked in Reikspiel:
- So, my little breeder... how do you feel?
The female lifted its muzzle to him.
- Fine, great Grey Seer.
Vellux barked:
- Down your nose when you speak to a superior being!
It gasped and bowed obediently.
- You still have everything to learn from our society, female!
- You... you're right, great Grey Seer.
- I'll teach you to behave-comport well!
- I will be happy to learn, your magnanimity chosen by the Horned Rat.
The White Skaven still grumbled some unintelligible syllables, but didn't pay more attention to his property. He ordered a small Skaven who stood near the table:
- Hey, you! Fetch me a bucket of water! Quick-quick!
The Skaven hurried from the room. He returned a minute later, the time for other Skaven completely come to their senses. On his order, the Clanrat put the bucket at the foot of the Grey Seer. The latter knelt and plunged without hesitation his head under the water. He repeated the process several times. The water trickled down his coat, was pleasant to him, and soon he felt in great shape.
- It's better-better. Hey, breeder!
- Yes, master Vellux?
- You thirsty?
- Uh... a little, my lord.
- Good!
The Grey Seer kicked the bucket, and thus threw its contents on the ratgirl. The whole room laughed before the contrite air of the breeder, wet, which shivered with cold.
Suddenly, a Warlock Engineer of Clan Skryre burst into the throne room. Panicked, he gasped more than he uttered:
- Master, Master! It's awful-awful!
- What, what ?
- Men-things are coming-arriving!
- Men-things?
- Plenty of them! Motivated!
- How many?
- Tens of tens! Perhaps tens of tens of tens!
Heike didn't understand the conversation, but the frightened cries of the Skaven and Vellux's contrite air were clear: something that could compromise the dominant position of the Skaven was about to happen. The White Skaven squeaked on his ratmen, gave a few kicks to those still slumped on the floor. The less stupefied grabbed their weapons and stimulated laggards the same way.
Vellux leaned on the girl and grabbed her ear.
- Whatever happens, breeder, don't try anything, or you'll regret it!
Then he began to yelp in his native language. All Skaven left the room. Alone, finally quiet, Heike thought.
Lady Franzseska was right, surely the army of one of the neighbouring lords.
- Here we are, gentlemen!
Hallbjörn Ludviksson raised his hand, and the whole company stopped. The Norscan dismounted and scanned his troops. Nedland Barnrooster, Votiak, Jorund and others had zeal. More than three hundred warriors among the most experienced and less fussy had left greed motivate them and had responded to Ludwig Steiner's offer. Most were part of companies comparable with that of Ludviksson's mercenaries, he had even had the opportunity to complete some tricky contracts with them in the past. Some were on horseback, but the greater number remained on foot. All members of the expedition of Lustria were there, except for the small half-dozen part with Magdalena and Samuel. And all were hardened men who had survived many battles, some had already lost an eye, an ear or arm. They all had the reputation of being real dogs of war. Some had thought it was a bad joke seeing Psody, but the captain and his two lieutenants had manage to convince them he was a good person.
So, Ludviksson's new company was consisted with tough men, most of them were native from Norsca. The lieutenants had not found Sister Abigail, who had left the capital as Steiner was issued his unhealthy prison.
Sitting behind on Romulus' horse, Psody shivered, distinguishing the shape of the large building in which he was imprisoned a few months earlier. The swirling mist gave Gottliebschloss an unreal aspect, and knowing it was now haunted by the Skaven made it even more disturbing. The Sons of the Horned Rat had not lit the torches, their eyes accustomed to the darkness were sufficient.
- Everything will be alright, my young friend, promised Steiner, who was riding alongside the prior of Shallya.
- This is eerie, it seems desert, Tomas sighed.
- Indeed, it's not-not. Listen.
The mercenaries listened attentively and perceived exclamations which resounded from time to time in the night, too acute and squeaky voices to come out of a Human throat.
- What do they say? asked the Norscan captain.
- I can't hear well, but I would say that they've spotted us. It is the excitement for combat. They are ready to fight, Hallbjörn.
- So are we.
Hallbjörn addressed in the wings.
- We will have to fight by night. Remember that it will be to their advantage, these freaks can see well in the dark.
The Human looked towards the castle, and took a few moments to examine it well. During his training in the imperial army, he learned the basics of military strategy, and many desperate battles had turned in his favour thanks to his tactical ideas. He had never faced the Skaven, but during the back journey, he had chatted with Psody, who had told him what he knew about the armed forces of the Under-Empire.
- They will do everything to stay indoors. Dislodge them won't be an easy task. They have powerful fire weapons, and gas globes to suffocate us. There may be war machines.
- Brissuc has at least one Screaming Bell, but if they use it, they may destroy the castle themselves.
- The pits are deep and lined with piles, Romulus specified. And the drawbridge is the only way in.
- We'll have to down it one way or another. Bowmen, you'll take care of the musketeers and Globadiers in priority.
One of the companies was composed of mercenaries specialised in the bow handling.
- You'll continue to rain down your arrows on them. We will push them out.
- This is probably how they took control, Votiak thought aloud.
Psody get down Romulus' horse.
- I'll stay back with master Steiner, brother Tomas and the prior Romulus. I can't fight in contact like you, but I'll try to help you with my magic.
- Your magic? Jorund repeated. Hey, white rat, does it not risk to destroy us, your magic?
- Uh... normally, Grey Seers use it without scruple-shame, and without thinking of their Clanrats. I will apply not to hurt you, I promise you.
- Anyway, if the plan works, it won't be necessary.
The small White Skaven adjusted his backpack and retrieved his macuahuitl attached to the saddle of the horse of the prior. He turned to Steiner.
- My lord, I... I wish to be alone a little, a few minutes.
- Always take precautions before you go! quipped the Norscan captain.
- It's not that. I have to... I have to settle things right with my god.
All men were silent. Norscan were superstitious, and respected the links the religious men maintained with their tutelary deity, even if it was a Skaven. Hallbjörn dismounted in turn.
- I need a few minutes to examine the terrain, mein herr.
- It would be better not to drag, I remind you that we have already been seen!
- Yes, master Steiner, I do quick-quick!
The merchant didn't want to wait, but he also knew that speed shouldn't been confused with haste. He muttered a few syllables by making a hand gesture. Without waiting more, Psody dashed to the edge of the surrounding forest.
Once out of sight, Psody put his stuff on the ground. He picked up a twig and drew a large triangle on the ground. Then he removed his clothes one by one and put them on a tree stump. When he was naked, fresh breeze of late autumn ruffled his hair. He knelt before the sketch, and looked up to the heavens, took his inspiration, and spoke in his native tongue:
- Oh, Horned Rat, god of the People of the Under-Empire, hear my prayer! Tonight is the night I shall accomplish the destiny of each Grey Seer: confronting the one who taught me to listen to your words, and prevail him. Indeed...
He paused a couple of seconds, the time to find the right words.
- Normally I should take his place, O father of all Skaven. I should preach the lower Skaven, have an apprentice to teach him everything I know, and keep him under my control. But... I don't want. Today, I'm sure my way is not the normal White Skaven way. I've seen another destiny. I can live happily, alongside a breed... a person who has given meaning to my life.
His throat was gradually knotted and trembled, not because of the cold. A small tear in pearled in the corner of his eye.
- I... I never-never stopped to listen to your messages and try to understand them. I still believe in you. But I also believe... the Skaven can live happily on the surface, but in a different way. Romulus was right, somewhere deep in my heart, I think it's possible. Look at me, and look at Heike. Humans can be our allies in our quest for spiritual perfection. I am... maybe I'm a terrible sacrilege, but I swear on my life, I seek only to raise myself in your eyes. Not in the eyes of all the Vellux of the Under-Empire who distort your sacred word... only you. O, Horned Rat, if you allow me to continue on this path, if you grant me victory tonight, and if you permit me to build a real family with Heike, I swear I will never forsake you. Instead, I'll continue to thank you every day. And even if I don't transmit your teachings, which are prohibited in Humans, I'll listen and do everything to honour you until death. I'll do everything so that all the Skaven... can be happy like me.
There was no answer, no reaction whatever. This was enough to Psody. He crouched near his bag, opened it, and came carefully the dress Katel had prepared for him.
Even in Lustria, he always kept at the bottom of his bag this precious garment, witness of the first and only maternal love he had received. This dress sewn into a piece of night blue tissue had not suffered much of his travels. It wore shaped patterns of stars and moons embroidered with copper coloured thread. The sleeves were lined in the same way, and so the neck. And the large silver White Skaven head always shone on its back. Lady Katel had probably spent hours crafting this magnificent cloth at night, while he was sleeping. He was sure, she had put so much passion for this task she had permeated this work of art with a small part of her soul.
And for the second time, this dress would give him strength and courage to face the looming trial. Gottliebschloss would be again the scene of a bloody battle. He trusted. A few months earlier, his intelligence and courage enabled him to defeat Jourg of Clan Moulder and his troops.
This time, it's different... I'm going to face my terrier fellows and my own master. But I am not alone. I have friends, and other troops.
Slowly, ceremoniously, he put on Katel's dress. Once its sleeves fitted, he shove on the thong of the scabbard of his macuahuitl on his right shoulder, checked one last time the content of his leather bag he put on his back, straightened his belt with small bags of components. Finally, he took a good breath, and looked in the direction of the castle, he could see between the trees.
- Now-now, Heike, I come find you!
Hallbjörn Ludviksson had taken the time to observe the terrain very carefully, in order to adopt the best strategy. He had entrusted his horse to one of the more used to mounted combat mercenaries.
- That's it, their shooters are in place, I can see them, said Nedland.
- Good. The little white rat told me that their equipment is dangerous, but not very fiable. Nevertheless, we must not rely on a failure, and remain out of reach.
Hallbjörn made a great sweep with his arm to designate the wall as a whole.
- These bastards are used to fight in the tunnels and sewers. As long as they are within these walls, they will benefit the advantage, unlike us who still dominate on wide battlefields. We'll really have to push them out. Is it understood, bowmen? Your role is critical!
Ranulf pointed his sword towards the woods.
- Here comes back the little white rat.
- Oh! What an ornament! Nedland noticed.
When he was again among humans, the great Jorund asked him:
- Is this your wizard robe?
- A gift from the woman who saved my life-life. She always brought me luck.
- We're going to need it. Now we...
Nedland ordered silence with a gesture.
- Hey, you guys! Be quiet!
Everyone made silent. Foreheads frowned, faces grimaced, lips curled, nervousness gradually won the men of the company as something came out of the mist, from the west. The Halfling scout out his telescope and his brow furrowed as a ploughed field.
- You must be kidding!
- What, more Skaven?
- No, they are Human warriors. Some wear heavy armours.
- Reinforcements, perhaps? asked the merchant.
- I don't know, mein herr. The imperial heraldry has no secret for me, but I don't recognise their banners. No, this is not the regular army. I feel that they are marauders!
Hallbjörn had an angry outburst.
- That wasn't part the program!
The merchant was afraid to see the mercenaries leave without warning. Distraught, he exclaimed:
- Captain! I'll revise the terms of the contract, I'll pay a bonus, but I entreat you, don't abandon my daughter!
- It's not about money, master Steiner. If we must face twice more people, I'm not sure that we have a chance to win!
- Who are these people? asked Romulus.
Tomas, the clerk of Verena, also had a telescope. He picked it up from his wallet, and quickly scrutinized the new arrivals. The other saw his face tense with anxiety.
- What are these beings? Look better, master Barnrooster, there isn't only Humans.
The clouds tore, letting the light of Morrslieb pass. Suddenly, Nedland understood .
- By the hair of the feet of my grandmother by marriage!
- What, for Sigmar's sake? the merchant asked, growing impatient.
The scout parked his telescope, and as he answered his question, Psody felt in his voice a harshly contained tension.
- Gentlemen, we are facing the Chaos!
Captain Ludviksson saw red.
- What? The Chaotese?
Like all Norscan people who had not sold their soul to the prohibited gods, Hallbjörn and his present countrymen hated creatures from the Chaos Wastes above all. Hallbjörn grabbed his hammer and muttered in a monotone that reflected a just retained black fury tune:
- Well... I take back what I said, mein Herr. In my case, I think they are not enough.
- You think you have a chance? Tomas asked anxiously.
The Norscan threw a sparkling look of anger to the young clerk.
- This is not a single battle, son. Each Norscan's honour, pride, country and family are always abused by Chaos. Fight against the slaves of the forbidden gods is a duty that we accomplish without hesitation.
The young Human looked for a face, an expression of complicity that could have gone in his way and moderate captain Ludviksson's determination, but there was no such thing. Instead, all the Norscans of the company were clearly determined to fight against the two armies.
During this little exchange, Nedland continued to watch the Chaos troops. He realised that the servants of the dark gods didn't seem to pay attention to them. He finally understood.
- They're not here for us! They're moving towards the castle!
- Why?
The little ratman approached Tomas.
- Tomas, can you lend me your item to see far?
Without a word, the young clerk handed him his telescope. Psody wedged it on his pink eye, and craned his neck forward. He saw through the glass lens the banners waved by the strange soldiers of Chaos. He quickly recognised the great symbol painted on stretched skin.
- This is the symbol of Slaanesh!
- Slaanesh , the Grand Tempter! groaned the young Ranulf, who had never been confronted with the servants of this god.
- Just a moment! I... Oh-ho! Got it!
- What, what?
The young White Skaven gave back the young clerk his instrument, and looked up at Steiner.
- My lord, I bet these are the troops Aescos Karkadourian!
- Karkadou... Ah yes! The sorcerer who conceived the cursed female!
- The same! I don't know if he hopes to find Gottlieb or Vellux, but the Skaven won't let him flee-go away!
- Then we need to use it as an advantage! Hallbjörn ordered in a loud voice. Demons and Skaven will eventually be interested in us, but before intervening, let them duff up themselves, it will increase our chances!
Indeed, the slaves of Slaanesh rushed with loud roars to the walls of Gottliebschloss. Some of them didn't hesitate to jump into the pit without watching out for stakes.
At the top of the rampart overlooking the entrance porch, Vellux was foaming. He had completely forgotten the threat of the weird-thing wizard Aescos Karkadourian. He grabbed by the scruff the small Skaven who had alerted him.
- Is that your men-things? You see these are weird-things!
- But... there! moaned the unfortunate, pointing a hysterical index to the south.
The Grey Seer then distinguished the first lines of a battalion of less affected by Chaos men-things. What did they want? Steal his castle? This was too much for him. He flanked the Skaven a violent slap, then kicked him. Then he cried:
- Soum! Soum!
The old Pestilens manifested quickly.
- Yes, o mighty servant dedicated to the Horned Rat?
- Awaken your Censer Bearers! They go to the front line!
- Well, uh... yes, oh beautiful child of the Horned Rat!
The Deacon didn't dare contest the Grey Seer's orders. Vellux lowered his muzzle to the courtyard and yelled:
- Fangleader Semik? Fangleader Semik? I don't believe it! Where is this one? SEMIK!
The Black Skaven chieftain went down running in the yard, panicked.
- Y... yes, incommensurable-beautiful-huge...
- Enough! Move your butt, and those of your Stormvermin!
The Grey Seer barked to the Skryre positioned on the towers.
- Come on, warplock jezzails! Fire at will!
Already some of the weird-things had spread into the ditch. Mutants, the White Skaven thought, gritting his teeth. He distinguished a Skaven which looked like a monstrous spider. Jezzails rumbled loudly, and the first warpstone bullets struck the twisted creatures.
In the courtyard, the Stormvermin were preparing to fight. Chitik, ready to fight, saw his brother Diassyon run before him. He grabbed him by his arm in passing.
- Hey, what's going-going on?
- Two armies, Chitik! The men-things men and the weird-things.
- What? Two armies together against us?
- I don't know. Wait.
The brown Skaven hailed one of the skirmishers on the ramparts.
- Ho, Pîdh!
- What? yelled the shooter, reloading his weapon.
- Who's attacking us?
- Weird-things!
- What about the men-things?
- Don't move. Remaining looking-looking!
Diassyon turned to the Stormvermin.
- Good! Between these walls, there is nothing to fear! I go up in turn. May the Horned Rat make you stronger!
- Take care, brother!
The young Warlock Engineer jumped on a ladder, and in a few seconds he was at the same height as the others. He grabbed his customized warplock jezzail, leaned against the stone slot, and scanned through with his telescope the battlefield. That's when he saw something that made him smile.
- Hey, Hallbjörn!
- Yeah, Votiak?
- Do you see what I see?
The captain of the company narrowed his eyes, and made an annoyed pout.
- Damn filthy bastards!
- What's going on? Oh no! cried Tomas.
Psody understood in turn, and squeaked:
- They're coming to us!
- Tell'em about today's special bucky!
Hallbjörn felt the beating of his heart accelerate while the barbarians were approaching. Like many worshipers of the dark powers of Chaos Human warriors, they came from the Nordic countries. Some were kindred Kislevites, others were originating from his home country, Norsca, and all had purple coloured skin and their features were hardened by the cold winds of Chaos Wastelands. As he saw these men running towards him and his comrades, yelling, he realised that the fight would be very violent.
Of course, it wouldn't be such an epic as those conducted by Sigmar Heldenhammer at the dawn of the Constitution of the Empire of Old World battle. It was not either the confrontation between tens of thousands of people like during the Storm of Chaos, the most terrible war the Empire had suffered for two hundred years, a war that didn't spare his own village.
And yet he knew that fight was going to be very deadly. Each camp was determined to prevail over the other two. Hallbjörn felt it was time to galvanise his own troops. He turned to his men, and spoke in his native language:
"Proud Warriors of Norsca, usually we fight for money, but deep inside us, you know it, what we really want, this fire that consumes our heart, is the prospect of freeing our country from wretched spawn of the Chaos gods.
"Today, the creatures of Slaanesh, the god of perversion and debauchery, believe they can prevail upon us and the giant rats. They can demolish the rats. But with us..."
The Norscan captain had a little break. His own heart was beating faster and stronger. Deep inside himself, he was a Berserk, able to channel into the deepest part of himself all his energy, and unleash a terrible rage that could turn him to a tireless fighter. And the same energy was boiling in the veins of his countrymen.
"These enemies are traitors to our people, and our gods cry to see them fallen. There is no more hope for them. They chose their own downfall, they forgot who they were, willingly! And I bet they hope we'll act like as they did."
Already some mercenaries groaned, raising their arms. A few hundred yards further, the nearest Chaos Warriors regiment ran in their direction. Hallbjörn threw his head back and bellowed:
"They corrupt our men, they slaughter our women, they devour our children! But now, it is time to show them who the real masters of Norsca are!"
Hallbjörn brandished in one hand his war hammer with a wild cry, immediately imitated by all his mercenaries. The sight galvanized him. All were ready to fight to the last breath, and follow him to the deepest hell, as they had a chance to win.
Votiak put his horn to his mouth, and blew with all his might. A powerful bellow sounded, and finished to motivate the Norscan warriors. All threw themselves into the battle, and the two small armies collided.