Forrest close to Altdorf, same time
Hauptmann Heinrich Hemmler pushed his spurs against the flanks of his horse and hunkered slightly lower to get some more speed from his horse. He could feel the resentment of his Wallach but it took up the pace to a very fast trot. They had to keep pace with "Sigfried", one of the tanks that the Reiksguard could buy.
After seeing the escort tanks that the Germans had sold for the train Hammer and the video of the battle at Middenheim Marshal Helborg had wanted something like this for his Reiksguard. The tanks were build on a M113 hull and sported a Puma turret with a 30 mm cannon and "Spike" more he saw of the modern German army the more clear it became that his Reiksguard had to reform, or they would soon only be useful for ceremonials guard posts.
When the offer for these tanks came in it became quite clear that the Reiksguard could only afford a few of them. Tracked infantry transports were simply out. They ordered very few M113 transports to pull their brand-new M101 guns but that was it. But normal infantry could not keep up with the tanks. The solution came from many discussions with the Germans, especially with the KSK troops that had more knowledge about what the Reiksguard could do or not do. They had suggested forming a unit of dragoons: Soldiers that could fight both mounted and as infantry. They could keep pace with the tanks easily and were much more flexible.
Because of his connection with the KSK he had been offered the job of commanding the Dragoons within the new Regiment. While his rank would stay for the moment it meant much more responsibilities and better visibility to the important people so he readily agreed. He was as unhappy as the next Reiksguard knight to turn in his lance and ditch some of his armor and he did not like the infantry training one bit. But he had seen what well-equipped infantry could do and he knew exactly that insisting to remain on the high horse always would only lead to defeat. He had seen what happened to heavy cavalry on a modern battlefield often enough now. He used this knowledge (and the fame won at Wolfenfels and the Dragon Scale he could wear) to convince his knights into agreeing to all those things they regarded as degrading and now things were getting together.
Oberst (Colonel) Wolf who led the Regiment knew what he had in him and backed him up to the hilt-that was very welcome for a change. He just hoped that this field exercise would show improvement, but so far things were looking good. A couple of weeks more and "Wolf`s Dragoons" would be ready for combat.
Tunnel below Altdorf, same Date
The old Warehouse in the Harbor District of Altdorf was nothing special-at least not outwardly. The last days it had been rented by a German forwarder who had stashed some containers inside and had insisted that they remained sealed for the moment.
In front of them Jokim Vos was jumping up and down in place, which resulted in a faint tinkling somewhere on his harness . Identifying a carbine hook that had not yet been properly taped he applied another round of "Panzertape" as the German called duck tape. The next jumps were as soundless as he could make them-done. Next he checked his camouflage-a mass of very dark greens and grays-also done. Going back to the cellar below the building he found the part of his squad which had not just taken the silencer drill with him.
Jens Neugebauer, his chief nerd hung on two monitors in front of him.
"Hugin and Munin have shown nothing the last 20 Minutes Boss-it is still quiet."
"Ok, that`s it-first troop go in"
The 4 dwarves of the first group were an incongruous sight-Clad in black armor with a carapace armor vest and a load bearing harness which held many high-tech items they kept their beards and eschewed the night-vision devices that their human companions preferred. Cradling a mixture of assault rifles and automatic shotguns they moved much more quietly than you would expect from such coarse-looking figures. They went into a hole that had been dug into the ground and used handholds placed into the walls of the freshly dug tunnel for exactly this purpose.
10 meters below their self-dug tunnel terminated in another one. This one was bigger, we and moldy and full or warm fetid air that moved quickly past them. The tunnel had a barely negotiable angle, so they did not need any ropes, but 2 of them still fastened them together with a fiber optic cable. The two not so employed at first made their way upwards till they met a rusted iron grille which terminated the tunnel barely above the level of their Reik. After making sure nothing lurked there they went downward past their comrades till they found the first of two drones that had been sent into the tunnel.
Getting backwards a little bit the Dwarf with the longest beard subvocalised into his throat microphone. "All is well but for the smell boss. There must be a million of the Thagoraki down there."
"Stay put, we will come"
Minutes later the rest of the Cave Raider`s recon squad assembled in what they suspected to be a Skaven ventilation shaft. Sending the drone in front of them to the limits of its wireless range they checked if all was ok before proceeding.
When they doused the last lights they moved through the tunnel like ghosts-barely heard and none seen.
Joakim was by now an experienced tunnel rat, but still he did not feel totally comfortable. The sight through his NVG googles was monocolor and lacked depth perception and a wide angle of view which together with the fetid air that streamed by him increased the latent claustrophobia.
At the next stop he went over to the drone operator who watched the screens. "Interesting Boss. Look here-whoever build this ended this tunnel on a grid, behind this seems to be a sort of turbine. But there is a way to the side of the tunnel."
"Check for any alarms or traps as far as you can." A little while later:
"Done-there seems to be nothing."
The raiders made their way by groups, one group advancing while the other were in readiness to shoot at whatever threat might emerge. When they reached the end of the tunnel the Landwehr Sergeant lifted his NVG. Behind the iron grille a flickering green light illuminated a large cave. It was cut into stroboscopic flashes by what appeared to be a windmill driven by a transmission belt powered by an unseen source. It produced the wind that blew continuously in their faces.
A spider drone went through the grille and the screen showed a room full of crude machines that somehow turned the ventilator. What was not in the room was any operator.
One of the Dwarves pushed a thin endoscope under the door that was set to the left side of the shaft. "Nobody behind the door Feldwebel-looks like there is a small side tunnel ending in another door which will lead into the larger cave. I switch to visible light then-oh oh"
Going over to the dwarven Landwehr soldier Joakim looked at the monitor that displayed the picture of the other side of the door. "Look here Boss-there is something like a switch here-I am pretty sure it shows something if we open the door. Might just be that it makes it impossible to open the other door at the same time-might also be an alarm."
"Can we disable it?"
"Yes, but not without damaging the door."
"Can`t be helped-do it"
A little while later a battery-powered saw cut a 60 mm hole into the sturdy wood of the door in front of them. Through this cut out a small Spider drone was deployed and only when it again reported no eavesdroppers did they use waldo arms to glue the cord attached to the switch in place.
Still they arranged themselves around the door as if going into a occupied room, still they opened the door carefully by waldo arm, still they hold their breath-and when nothing happened at all they entered. At the end of the short side tunnel the process repeated itself-endoscope, checking for traps and sensors-and then they entered the machine room.
It was still empty. The machines seemed crude and badly maintained to the point where it was hard to see how they could work at all. Another heavy door barred the entrance to the deeper caves, but the room also showed several smaller tunnels, barely wide enough for a man to crawl through which terminated in this room.
Jens Neugebauer and the Dwarves did a huddle while Joakim distributed some of his cave raiders around the room covering all possible entrances.
"Boss, this looks like a ventilator room-this is where they pump out the stale air from the deeper caves. These tunnels there are probably ventilation shafts. It is unlikely that people will come here as they need to keep this room under pressure-whoever build this will come from time to time for maintenance, and it looks like they do not do this too often."
"So can we stay here."
"I would not suggest that-we can go back into the side tunnel. But we can install a relay here and send drones down the ventilation shafts for starters."
"Sounds good, make it so. Any idea who is the landlord here."
"Well, look at this Boss"
The specialist showed Joakim to the machine on the bottom of the reverse windmill. There a crude sign was chiseled into the cast iron of the machine, three lines that intersected to a triangle with the point down.
"Shit, it's really the Skaven."
Valley of Bones, Naggaroth, Evening of the next day
Lokhir Blackheart was in a world of hurt. His feet had probably blistered again which he would not have thought possible after marching so much. His inner tights were sore, his lower back burned and the mail-and carapace armor had worn other blisters into his shoulders and upper back.
His unit had marched from one of the watch towers to the Valley for the army muster ordered by Lord Silverhawk. They had marched as hard as they could as a matter of pride and as they wanted to have the best spot of making camp. They had one of the shortest ways to march and given their speed they should be first. When the column he was in went around the bend that led into the valley a collective groan went through the ranks starting from the first ones. When he was able to look inside the valley he could see why-another Druchii unit had already arrived. Who could have beaten them-and so badly that they had already erected camp and fortified it?
The close he came to the camp the stranger the camp became. He had never seen the flag that flew above the camp-a simple piece of black cloth. He had never seen the tents that were arranged in very orderly lines and the silver wire that was strung around the camp was also off. The ditch-and earthen wall arrangement behind it was no surprise as were the stakes that were in it-but the circular pits at the corners seemed to be made out of sacks-and the weapons inside looked like nothing he had seen before.
Yet, he could see numerous true elves strutting around the camp, but so were some humans-and they did not look like slaves.
When they were in front of the strange camp he was close enough to the front to hear the exchange between their commander and the figure that appeared at the front gate of the camp.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"I am Wolfgang Böhler and I command the 1 Platoon of the Black Company and the Druchii Auxilia and were are here on the orders of Malekith to support the troops commanded by Lord Silverhawk. And who might you be?"
"Mercenary, are you not. I am not required to answer you, but know that you are talking Silvier Bloodstone, Dread Lord of the Druchii and I command the 23rd Watch Regiment. I will brook no mercenary to occupy the sport I have chosen for my troops-move at once."
"Well, Dread Lord-I suggest you take that up with Lord Silverstone when he arrives tomorrow. Tonight I see no need to yield this place and there seems enough suitable space around here."
"Are you defying me Mercenary."
"Just following my orders Dread Lord, as do we all."
It was then that Bloodstones adjutant bend over to his Lord to point at the weapons pits and gave quiet advice. When they finished Bloodstone`s words were even colder than before.
"You have not heard the last of this Mercenary. Enjoy your place while it lasts."
The strange mercs-and their even stranger Druchii were the only theme on the rumor mill on that evening. One piece of that rumor that hit Lokhir was that there were magical weapons that could shoot hundreds of times a minute and that the adjutant had spotted just that weapon at the mercs-small wonder that their commander did not press the point.
But the Druchii auxillia was even more debated-True Elves working for human mercenaries-how could anybody sink so low?
The next day saw the arrival of more troops-and that of the army`s commander. To nearly everybody`s surprise they did not get the place that the Bloodstone wanted-but they got a series of contests and demonstrations.
His company was called to the free space in the middle of their camp and were addressed by their commander. "All of you wonder what these mercenaries over there are doing here but for supporting their betters. It seems that Lord Silverstone is taking their bragging of their prowess at something like face value and has given us the chance to prove them wrong.
We will have two contests about this-one will be a shooting competition, the other one a mock fencing. You are a mixed platoon and I trust you as much as I so any of my retainers-so show these upstarts what their bragging is worth."
The cheers were loud enough to make Bloodstone happy. This solution was very Druchii in a way-competition who was best. It just lacked the usual deceptiveness about it, but against Mercenaries, who would need it?
The two units marched out to the main exercise ground shortly before noon, having taken the time to arrange for targets and having broken out the leather protectors for their bladed weapons. The platoon send by the Germans was all-Druchii, led by a woman who had a strange frame with lenses before her eyes and was armed with rifles only. Yet the rifles had long spear point-like bayonets fixed on top-which would do the shooting contests then? And if his long life had shown Lukhir anything than that things that were designed to do several things at one did none of them well. So if the Mercs wanted to fence with blades on top of delicate looking rifles who was he to protest?
But the shooting competition was first-and even that should be no contest. The crossbows sported by the "shooting" squad of his platoon could fire 6 rounds a minute and the marksmen were good. The best he had ever heard of rifles were 3 a minute and they tended to be terribly inaccurate after 80 meters or so except for some very special models.
The crossbow platoon stepped forward, made a line 100 meters from their targets, a series of discarded boards, broken barrels and whatnot and waited for the command. When ordered they fired their weapons at quite an angle-repeating crossbows could not be too powerful and with their poisoned arrows there was no need for them to be. They got a good rate of hits-roughly half impacted in their targets and struck. Pulling back on the bolt magazines recocked the crossbows and fed a new bold in front of the bowstring-again the shots went out. The 6th salvo was still within the minute described by the rules, showing the excellent training of the crossbow marksmen.
After the counting was done the rifle platoon stepped forward. They still did not take off their Bayonets and now that Lokhir was close enough to see that the bayonets were fastened below the rifles barrel, not inside them. He wondered how well these blades were fixed-but that was for later.
The riflemen went into a double line-they had twice the shooters anyhow-with the first line shooting from a kneeling stance. The voice of the female commander was loud, clear high and you could hear the nervousness only by the extra-fine-tuned senses of a true Elf.
"Target is at 100 meters, rapid fire after first salvo. Aim-fire"
The crashing salvo that went out was far more impressive than the crossbow`s doing, but what amazed Lokhir much more were the reloading-the shooters did something at the far end of the rifle, not in front and the next shots went out at least as fast as the crossbow bolts had. The hits in the targets were likewise different. Instead of sticking in the boards the bullets made holes that clearly showed great penetration. The first salvos came together and then fire became more ragged when the shooters loaded at their own speed but it was still at least as fast as that of the Crossbow shooters-and the last shots more accurate.
After the last shots the human leader of the Mercenaries waved the Druchii off who had tried to count the hits. Instead the rifle platoon marched off till it was nearly at the near hill that denoted the valley. Again the line formed, again the commands were heard-and to nearly everybody`s surprise the hits still occurred. Granted, there were less of them-but at more than 300 meters….
The Auxillia cheered their team lustily and Lokhir could just hope that he could do better in the fencing part.
Both platoons had deployed in two lines for that-for Lokhir that was necessary as his crossbow shooters only had short swords and needed his defense in close combat. For the Auxilia it was a choice made possible by their longer reach.
Best way to deal with this was a strong assault-that way the second line could still push and the first line did not just have swords but shields also for the ramming.
"Let`s show these losers who is boss-charge…." Got the needed results, his platoon charged as nice as you please. Their screams masked their unease at the muzzles held at them, everybody knew what a salvo could do to them were the other side allowed to shoot.
Lokhir crashed into his opponent frontally and with great momentum and pressed the bayonet that was aimed at him upwards while his opponent had dug in his feet. He could push him backwards-but not far enough to break the line and neither could any other member of his platoon. Instead the second line of the rifle platoon thrust their bayonets at his Elves again and again. Leaving their defense to their comrades they attacked Elves that did not even attack them but "took out" Druchii which never even looked at them. Their longer reach made this nearly easy. Like most of his platoon Lokhir ignored the red stripes left by the colored bayonet protectors on his arms and armor and fought on, regardless of nay wussy rules. He could not ignore the rifle butt that crashed into his jaw and send him into an all-encompassing darkness to the ground.
Reiksbund Headquarters, next day
Joakim Vos was still quite tried after spending nearly 48 hours underground, but he had taken a shower, a shave and a new uniform and felt much more human than he did during the last days.
Making sure that his laptop was well connected to the conference rooms network he addressed the assembled multitude. "Gentlemen, you asked me to present the first findings of our recon mission below Altdorf. We were able to infiltrate the installation without being detected and currently deploy drones and remote cameras throughout. We were also able to secure the first videos of the installation-this is the most important.
The wall at the back of the meeting room enlarged the video so much that it seemed blurry but the contents came over just fine. A huge cavern was arranged around a deeper cavity with steep walls. Inside these walls fur-clad shapes dwelled, looking misshapen with muscle and claws but comically small heads. From the sides baskets with something were dumped into the well, and all of a sudden the quiet figures clawed and fought their way to the droppings. Whatever had been dumped was obviously edible-and the beings inside the well fought for that with tooth and claw.
The fighting was as short as it was ferocious and two of their number went down, just to be ripped apart and consumed like the rest of the food.
"This gentlemen is the last video feed we were able to secure before I left for this meeting. I have no idea what precisely it shows, but it is obvious that it this is a Skaven installation."
The Imperial and German officers looked at him with stony faces. The first to speak was Thorgrim Stormhard, one of the dwarves serving the Empire.
"That young man is a Rat Oger Pit where the Ratmen raise their fighting creatures. You saw the feeding, the Skaven always feed less than the Creatures need so that the Ogres fight. Only the strongest are allowed to survive and are so crazed by that that they need guidance by the tamers for the rest of their short lives. If the Skaven under Altdorf have such pits than their number must be great indeed, otherwise they could not support such an operation. Well done young man, I do believe that you are the first human or Dawi to actually see this and survive to tell the tale. We only hear about such things or find the remains."
General Grube was next. "This is a clear threat to Altdorf and the Emperor-we have to do something and quick."
"Let us first gain more intelligence-we neither know the extent of the threat nor the enemy`s intent. I suggest we leave the Sergeant here to his good work and discuss what to do when more data becomes available. But raising the alter level on the units stationed in and around Altdorf for starters seems like an obvious choice. Also we should…
Valley of Bones, Naggaroth, next evening
Wherever a Druchii army went in Naggaroth, a train of helpers followed, at least as far as possible. Sutlers offered general merchandize, eateries a break from the tedium of the cafeteria, slave dealers offered to take off the inconvenient prisoners or offered a replacement for the slave just used up. Said train often also contained the slaves of many Druchii that went with the army as leaving them home might have unfortunate repercussions or they wanted to have them nearby but only a few were allowed in the armed forces camp directly. For these there were Kennels which looked after these slaves for a small fare.
All of these were congregated in a small tent city that clustered around something like a market. Areta Bane ambled over this place, looking here and there. She was already pretty sure that she wanted some food-the Germans did not know what to do with spices and neither did their cooking slaves. Another bedroll would come nice in the upcoming campaign-it promised to be cold. She had entered the market together with most of her squad, but the different interests the squad had and the fact they were off the military regime for the first time in a while had dispersed them.
Her last companion, Breda, had discovered "the nicest boy-toy she had seen in a long time" at one of the stalls and was currently enjoying his paid-for charms. It was funny-she had been around her squaddies for so long now that being on her own, even for a short time felt unnatural and wrong. Still, she enjoyed it immensely. What she also liked was the looks she got from various sides. The contest her platoon had taken part in had shown everybody that they might be scum-but very dangerous and capable scum. So Areta was feared and grudgingly respected-and how much she liked that part. Setting her shoulders straight she went for the next stall.
Lokhir Blackheart watched the witch walk through the market, reveling in her strangeness and showing off her German-made glasses by putting them off whenever she examined some merchandize. Lifting his tankard to his mouth he winced when the rim touched the lips and reminded him of the bruise and the half-broken teeth behind it. This "Auxilia" was the scum of the earth and should know it`s place and instead they had bested him and his unit by trickery and were now strutting around as if they had the right to do so.
"This is fucked up" His sorry companion in drinking was not any happier with the Auxilia as Lokhir was.
"Beyond that. This is unnatural. The Germans are Mercenaries for the Gods sake and they have the pride of place. And these bleeding losers are supporting mercenaries. They are not even good enough to lick the dirt of my shoes-and then they bewitch Lord Silverhawk into accepting them as warriors of their own right-Blast it."
"Somebody should do something about it."
"Somebody should-might as well be us."
"Anything in mind?"
"Look over there-no not there you dolt- there. The hag with the glasses-what do you think?"
Areta woke up a couple of hours later and tried to find what was happening. The pain in her head and the wet feeling on the side of her temple spoke of some head injury and from past experience she knew that she was unlikely to remember the exact events which led to this state of affairs.
The position of stars and the two moons that were up told her that she must have been out for a while. When she moved she realized that she could not and the cold evening wind showed her clearly that she was naked. She had not even panicked for lack of time when she saw the silhouette of several male Druchii, of which at least one was holding a wicked-looking whip. "Time you learn your place bitch" was the last she heard before she entered the territory of nightmares.
It was very early the next morning that her squad found her when they tried to retrieve her before morning call. True Elves should be unfazed by such sights, but the welts left all over the squad leader, the state of undress and the marks on her lower body spoke of a sorry tale. Even worse was the look in Areta`s eyes above the crude gag which did not show hate at whomever had done this but of depression and despair.
Tunnels under Altdorf, same time
Joakim Vos watched the small monitor that was held by his Nerd. It showed the last member of s small Skaven group which left the ventilator room. When the door was closed for 5 minutes he addressed his team.
"Ok, Ulfrid, Thorgrim-I want an endoscope under that door right now. The rest waits for the all-clear" Only when it was likely that the overgrown rats were gone for good did the Raiders enter the Cavern. "Ulfrid, Thorgrim-you cover Jens while he plants the alarm in that corridor. You two-overwatch. The rest gives me a hand while we emplace the bleeding relay."
Bit by bit the Cave Raiders were getting a network of wireless repeaters and fire-optic communication cables up, which was meant to control a number of drones that were using the ventilation shafts of the Skaven Warren to obtain data. They had more than an hour to put everything in place and then retreat to the side tunnel of the main ventilation shaft.
"Boss, I have checked on the magic detector-the machines that drive the turbine must all be warpstone-powered. The level of radiation is so high that I get some bleedover into radio frequencies. We should avoid it to be in there for too long."
"Will do. How can the rats stand it?"
"Dunno, maybe they are used to it?" Thorgim Storkorm, who had overheard the conversation, chimed in.
"They do not, simple as it is. Most of the critters don`t get to be any older than 20 or so-and that is more than long enough when you ask me."
"That is simply fucked-up. Well, we are here for intel, not philosophy. For now we keep it tight and let the drones do the job."
Valley of Bones, Naggaroth, next afternoon
Areta Bane was so devastated that she was no longer debating with herself whether she should end her miserable life, just how. She had been through a rather vicious cycle-at first the total loss of status when she could no longer function as a soldier. Then the degrading training at the hand of the Germans and the eventual build-up of herself and the team-building of the Auxilia. The climax of it all had been the competition against the oh-so-superior Druchii from Bloodstone`s regiment and the respect earned by that.
And all of that crashed down when she was caught like a stupid rookie who should have known better. How could she not make sure that her comrades were closer to her, how could she be taken with no attempt at defense. That her captors had broken her and forced to cooperate in things too disgusting to think about added on, but the thing which ended everything was that they destroyed her glasses right in front of her eyes. This was the thing that had brought her out of uselessness-and now they were gone. Time to end thing if her squad which hovered around her like mother hens would leave her alone for just a minute. Instead of filtering out another member came into the tent and started looking for her.
"Hi Areta, I think I have something you like."
"Thanks Breda, but I won`t eat."
"Not that, look here."
Areta found that she still had tears to give-in front of her lay carton containing simple, not too well made overwhelmingly beautiful glasses. Her life was back if she wanted it.
"How did you get these?"
"The Germans are nothing if not efficient. They have noted the "strength" of the glasses given to you and they have packed a couple of different ones as so many of us need them. They are not perfect, but should be good enough for the next weeks. Now the question is-you want to feel sorry for yourself, or do something about it?"
"They will regret having ever seen me"
"That`s my girl"
Jade Bight, next morning
The Wind that came from the sea was bitterly cold, full of humidity and traces of the snow it had brought lately. It would cut through most protective clothing and would seemingly cut to the bones themselves.
The formerly polish patrol boats that were going down the dragged channel was making sure there was nothing in the path of Germany`s newest submarine, a submarine that currently had only few means of defending herself as it was on its test runs.
Two men braved the wind in the command tower, looking for anything not registered by the radar that turned on an erected periscopic mast behind them and taking a last chance at open space and fresh air before going to the dive.
Friedel Bauer was a Bavarian in the most unlikely of places: the German Navy. He was good at what he was doing and so he had been offered the prestigious post of XO on the new 220 class submarine, the first of its kind. Being used to the cold of his alpine home he thought the warmer winters of North Germany a joke-until they got to their humid and windy worst. Bad even before the Weltensprung the absence of the Gulf Stream in this world did not improve things.
He addressed Daniel Rakewitz who was looking over the length of his submarine, obviously lost in thought.
"It is cold this morning Captain"
"Very cold"
Rakewitz, whom his wife had told yesterday that she had missed her menstruation and would conduct a test today would have preferred to be home. As much as getting this magnificent sub into readiness was a welcome challenge his wife needed him these days. He was thinking what to do about it and his responses were mostly automatic.
"Cold…and hard"
Both men were taking in the slab-grey sea and the patrol boats for a while in silence when the lead boat lit it`s horn to announce the end of its patrol, from here the sea was deep enough for diving.
The XO was hit by another gust of cold wind and turned around. "It is time Captain."
"It`s time…time indeed"
Both men turned to the hatches that lead into the submarine, time to get out of the wind.
Here is the video: watch?v=AWPBr4L1eyE
Valley of Bones, next Night
Lokhir Fellheart was using the slave girl for all she was worth. He had to be a little careful, otherwise he would have to pay damages to her owner. Still, it was the thing to do, he just felt great. After the feeling of inadequacy from losing to scum getting his revenge had been divine. The story had been around in his camp quickly and it had done his reputation no harm indeed. Somebody had to show these losers their place and the sooner it happened the better. That there had been no reaction showed that the "Auxilia" was talking it lying down-very good. He had become aroused simply from thinking about the sight of that bitch and thought it a good idea to do something about it. Going to the slave stalls together with his mates he already had a fine old time and it was certainly not over. He thought about enquiring with the owner about the costs of the few welts to his girl when a very young, very beautiful boy entered the tent. Lokhir was about to frown when the boy presented a goblet of cheap wine.
"Compliments of Madame Sir."
"Ah, thanks-be a good Lad and drink a bit."
"Sir, this is not allowed for my likes."
"Drink-or the next time you drink it spills from your throat."
"Yes Sir." The boy indeed drank a measure of wine before putting the Goblet and two tankards down at a low table. He walked backwards from the tent, bowing down all the while. Lokhir toasted his companions, drinking deeply of the sweetened wine before taking advantage of the slave in front of him again.
He did not get to finish.
He never lost consciousness completely, just was not able to move his limbs. So he got to see how the tarpaulin in the back of the tent was lifted, how he and his mates were pulled out and how he was carried over the back of a strong Druchii into the woods surrounding the camp. He even heard a voice he thought he remembered but could not place ask: "How did you get the little shit to do that?"
"Oh, simple, I promised him that when I was through with him I would sell him to a German factory. They all dream of that."
It took him quite a while to regain his senses and control of his limbs again, by that time he was naked and bound. A face with bruises bend down to him, showing off a story oaken truncheon like the ones used by slave owners. "Use your tongue well boy it is the only lubrication you are going to get."
Restaurant "Paulaner", Altdorf, same Time
A German pork knuckle is a tasty challenge to anybody but the most accomplished Gourmand. Up to a kilogram of crispy skin, comparatively soft meat and bone with side dishes of mashed potatoes and German "Kraut" will fill most stomachs to capacity, but they do so nicely. Washing the meal down with excellent beer the two men attacking a pork knuckle each were easily the match for this food.
When the last scraps of the pork disappeared and a lot of small talk was already done, the "Jägermeister" shots appeared and disappeared with speed it became time for the real business of the evening.
"Thanks again for inviting me here Heinz. This food is a real treat."
"How could I do less for the priest who opened my way to Sigmar and saved my sorry ass Father Hus?"
"Heinz Albers, do not play coy, Sigmar does not like this. You saved yourself-and most of us with you. I just helped a little. I am nearly ashamed that after this and after being treated to such an excellent meal I have to ask for one more favor."
"If it is within my power all you have to do is but ask."
"Well if that is so you can do me and the world a favor. I fear for Valten."
"Why Father, does anybody threaten him? He seems to handle himself well if needs be and he should be pretty safe where he is right now. Actually I am pretty sure that the German government has a discrete eye on him."
"Physically nobody threatens him as far as I am aware. No, it is the place where he is now, this "School of the Reik". It fills his head with nonsense about how the universe is supposed to be fit together, about universal human rights and about how it is preferable to solve conflicts by diplomacy. What does Valten need higher mathematics of an insight into Genetics? Sigmar for sure did not need it, so why does he.?
But what is far worse this den of bawdiness they call a school has mixed classes of male and female students. I won`t even go into some subjects they teach.
Heinz, they are corrupting Valten, I would never have thought that possible. Something needs to be done and you seemed to relate well to him. He did not listen to me when I told him this is no good place to be for him, I hope that you can make him see sense."
"I have some holiday upcoming and might as well spend it in Berlin, no problem. I think I can have a look at what he is doing and will talk to him, no problem. But..."
"But what?"
"Father, do not think that I take your advice lightly and I will always grateful for what you did to me. Still you thought us that speaking your mind is something Sigmar would want from us. So: I do not think you can insult a belief worse than stating that it is best served by ignorance. If learning more about the world damages a faith then it is not strong enough. And we both know how strong Valten is, don`t we?"
The Sigmarite in front of him went red first and inhaled deeply for a stinging reply and then looked like he had been gut-punched. It took him a while before he was able to speak again. "You..you..thank you. Somebody had to do that, better it be you. This is something I have to think about and deeply."
"Don`t thank me Father, reacting like you just did gives you great honor-I think. The path of Sigmar is hard, isn`t it? But still there is something about what you say. If I remember my University days right there are some things that can confuse a young man`s mind deeply and distract him. I will see if he is all right. But may I offer one more suggestion?"
"Please"
"If I remember things correctly about this "School of the Reik" they take guest lecturers from the Empire quite often. You could apply for such a post and be at the School every so often-that would also give you access to Valten."
"And more to think about-thanks Heinz-I think."
