Daughters and Sons of the Horned Rat,

I apologize for being late once again. I had a lot of little things to do outside of work, and I had a hard time getting ideas for this chapter, I admit – those amongst you who are familiar with my fanfictions know that action scenes are those I am the least comfortable to write. I also took a little vacation, and besides I advise you to visit the city of Bordeaux, France, which is very nice.

Otherwise, I wrote a lot of ideas for coming chapters, and especially for a "spin off". Let me explain: I have already written the end of this story, as well as some chapters of Heirs of the Horned Rat the sequel and end of the Rat Kingdom Trilogy. And at the end of the Rat Kingdom appears a completely anecdotal character – I will not tell you who this character is, that would only spoil, just remember it's really anecdotal.

Well, I can reveal you at least this thing: it will be one of Psody's grandchildren, more. precisely a granddaughter. But I won't spoil you anything more. If you've looked at the Deviantart website page named "ChildrenOfPsody", you already know who I'm talking about.

Be aware, however, that this anecdotal character has suddenly taken on a particular importance to me, so much so that I wonder if she is not the one that I have most enjoyed creating and making evolve throughout my fanfiction author career? Anyway, I find this person really very endearing. I don't think I'll be able to do an entire novel for her, though, because I have no idea of any big plot where I could involve her, and I'd rather focus on The Rat Kingdom and Heirs of the Horned Rat, in terms of long stories.

I rather want to write short stories that would take place throughout her life, from early childhood to her last moments. I already have half a dozen projects of short stories, in this sense. And besides, who knows, maybe YOU could participate in her evolution, submitting your ideas to me?

And so, well... it took me a while to put on word processor, but I couldn't let go of the scenes I imagined. Now, let's go back now to our history, to the present time.

Glory to the Horned Rat!

- Bowmen, now!

The few archers in the barracks whistled arrows to the mounted Orcs. For the third time, the Waaagh swallowed the salvo. The deadly spikes ricocheted on the helmets and shields, but two of the green-skinned brutes were thrown off their boars and rolled into the grass.

The strategy of the Orcs was in their image: wild, noisy, without the slightest subtlety. They circled around the small barracks, shouting, brandishing their axes, clubs, and other heavy and primitive weapons. They had tried to intimidate the soldiers, but Müller and Kristofferson had been able to keep calm and sufficiently motivate their respective troops. If they were not very numerous, they were determined to defend themselves.

The Orcs had neither bow nor javelin. As long as they stayed away, they couldn't hurt any Human or a Skaven. And the arrows had put down a good dozen of them.

- Beware, to the south! Müller shouted.

A small group of Orcs had left the group to get around the building in the other direction. The four barbarians had arrived at the foot of the fifteen-feet-high wall, and began to climb it. Their strong arms and iron-clad fingers allowed them to climb with confidence.

Kristofferson, Walter and Pol ran along the rampart. The fat Skaven stopped half-way, as he had just found a favourable angle. He grabbed his harquebus attached to his back, knelt down, put the barrel of his weapon on the stone of a crenel, aimed at his target, and opened fire. He shot one of the Orcs just between its shoulders. The invader tumbled with a yelp and smashed its head on the ground.

The first of the three remaining Orcs had almost reached the summit, but as it raised its head to focus on the summit, the tip of Kristofferson's rapier pierced its eye. Walter kicked the third with a kick on its chin, which broke his back below. Finally, the fourth was hoisted by Kristofferson and Pol, before being shredded.

Captain Müller joined the three ratmen on the double.

- Well done!

- How's the situation, by now?

- I ordered a fourth salvo. They seem to fall back!

- What?

The three Skavens and Müller ran together to the roundabout point the nearest of the Orcs battalion. Indeed, the wild boars no longer ran, and were gathered a few dozen yards out of range of the arrows. The Greenskins warriors seemed to be consulting each other.

- They are violent, but not stupid, observed the captain. If they see that their opponent is too strong, they give up.

- I don't see any leader, Pol noticed. I heard that the Orcs still have a leader, and this one is easily identifiable.

- Normally, they have; Walter answered. If it's a small band of scouts, they probably didn't have their war chief with them.

- A hundred of these butchers, a "small band"? So what do you need!

Kristofferson hadn't said a word. He remembered one of the lessons of Commander Schmetterling, who had faced the Orcs many times.

- Without leader, and after a defeat, they are easily discouraged. I have an idea!

He ran down the stairs into the courtyard, entered the shed where the wyvern's head had been stored, grabbed it, carried it on his back, went up the steps of the walkway, and repositioned himself beside his friends. Then he shouted with all his might:

- Hey, bunch of jerks! You forgot something!

Before swinging the village trophy over the wall. The elongated skull of the creature fell into the slush. The remaining Orcs, about seventy, urged on their mounts and the wild boars galloped in the opposite position to the barracks.

On the walkway, the soldiers exulted with joy. Müller congratulated his men, and Kristofferson climbed one of the crenels to overlook the assembly.

- Fellow Humans, fellow Skaven, you have been perfect! You are the pride of the Rat Kingdom! Thanks to your combined efforts, the enemy has...

Suddenly, the rest of the speech remained stuck across the throat of the young brown Skaven. Indeed, the Orcs were moving away from the barracks, but they had just forked, and rushed all weapons brandished towards the village itself!

- Soldiers, they attack Klapperschlänge!

A wave of panic seized all the men-at-arms present. All rushed to the heavy doors that two sentries hastened to open. Kristofferson, Walter, Pol and Müller followed them at full speed. Once in the yard, they ran to the stable. While saddling his horse, Walter yelped:

- Gods almighty, why didn't we made them shelter themselves here?

- We didn't expect them to attack so soon! Pol moaned.

- I should have expected it! Müller exclaimed.

- We should all have, captain. Now, we must all defend them!

And the four fighters, trimmed and mounted, galloped the horses towards the village.

While pushing his mount, Kristofferson was constantly cursing himself. How could he have shown such negligence? How could he have left the villagers defenceless? His thoughts were quickly overshadowed by the impending danger. Some cottages were already burning under the fire of Orcs torches, and the inhabitants who went out, terrorized, were quickly gutted by the Greenskins.

This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not…

A brutal shock suddenly reversed the brown Skaven. He rolled in the slush on several yards. Raging pig squeals mingled with heart-breaking neighs. Kristofferson screamed furiously when he saw the boar of an Orc finishing gutting his horse. Mad with anger, he jumped to his feet, pulled his rapier in his right hand, and rushed to the rider. Too busy trying to roll back its wild boar whose tusks remained stuck between the horse's ribs, the Orc didn't see its end approaching. Kristofferson leaned on the carcass of his unfortunate mount, made a huge leap, stretching out his arm, and pierced the Orc's head. Then he put his hand on its big face and pushed with a sharp blow, tilting the still warm body. He didn't waste time and settled on the saddle of the boar.

- All right, now you do what I want!

And with a steady hand, he pulled on the reins. The animal finally disengaged itself, and no longer felt the grip of the vigorous legs of an Orc squeezing its flanks. So, it tried to overthrow its rider with savage kicks. But if Kristofferson was not as muscular as a Greenskin, he was much more supple and agile. Also, he managed to remain balanced on the saddle, and continued to pull with all his strength. Finally, the beast got tired, and stopped rushing. The young Skaven Brown heeled the animal, and made it gallop in the middle of the village. He spotted an Orc rider, threatening to crush two children running next to each other. He forced his wild boar to turn towards the Greenskin, and as he was right at its side, he leaped from his saddle and wrapped his arm around the Orc's throat, and then carried off in his dash, and they both found themselves on the ground. The difference was that Kristofferson had been flexibly received on the feet, one knee on the soil, while the Orc had landed head first. It found himself with its neck broken.

The young Steiner jumped up and glanced around, searching for a new action. At some distance, an Ora was trotting his boar at the height of terrified peasants to better mow them with its huge sword. Once again, the brown Skaven used his skilfully developed physical abilities. He anticipated the Greenskin race, and spotted a cabin near which it was about to pass. He ran to that cabin, climbed on it, and when the Orc came, he made an impressive leap, legs forward, and hit his target. The Orc sprawled all the way into the dust. One of Müller's men smashed his head with an axe.

A little further, Walter Klingmann was in melee with two Orcs. He congratulated himself for taking the time to put on his heavy armour when the alert had woken him up. As he was tall and tough but not particularly agile, he had specialized in combat by being heavily protected. The blacksmith at Steinerburg had made an extraordinary crafting work: every piece of his armour was cut right with the others, and only partially hindered his movements. As long as he did not need to run, he was trained enough not to lose his breath too fast. His helmet let out his two big round ears, which could make him look a little unlikely, even funny, but the people he faced had little time to laugh. He crushed the limbs and bones with his war hammer, solid and aesthetically distinguishable thanks to the chiselled decorations on its head. The shield he held in his left hand was a heavy four-foot-high bulwark painted with the colours of the Steinerburg Ward. He hadn't watched what he spent to buy a balanced, solid shield that fitted his measurements.

The two Orcs attacked the Skaven without the slightest subtlety or coherence. Walter hadn't any difficulty parrying the blows of the first one and dodging the assaults of the other. He whirled his hammer forward to threaten the first Orc. The latter didn't have the reflex to back down. The hammer fell quickly on its cheek. Walter quickly pointed his shield to his left. The axe of the second Orc ricocheted on the steel, dragging sparks on its surface. The tall Skaven pushed his assailant away with a bulwark backswing. The Orc was unbalanced, Walter took the opportunity to hit its knee. The leg broke with a painful angle. The Greenskin squatted with a bellow of pain. The Skaven swung his hammer from down to up, breaking the chin of the Orc that fell on its back, and didn't move anymore.

- Well done, Wally! exclaimed Kristofferson, brandishing his rapier.

He rolled back just in time to avoid the spit of an Orc that he had not seen coming. Fortunately for him, he was not as heavily harnessed as his friend. He used to wear for every piece of armour a spaulder and an armband on his left arm, in addition to a simple cuirass of reinforced leather. Currently, he made his sword jump from one hand to another depending on the circumstances, and unlike Walter, was very mobile. He also guessed that the slightest blow from one of these monstrous brutes would have disastrous consequences on his health. He decided to play with the Orc. He turned around it, insulting it, making grimaces and abusive gestures, while gracefully avoiding every stroke of his opponent. The Orcs were not famous for their patience, and this one was no exception to this rule. It foamed in rage, and hit harder and harder, unable to reach him. Its eyes blushed, yellowish saliva spurted from between its long, lower canines, and lathered on its waistcoat.

Kristofferson wanted to go on the offensive. Whenever he dodged an assault, he immediately punished his opponent with a small slash. The Orc was not wearing arm or leg protection, and soon found itself with a multitude of cuts on its limbs. The blood was flowing more and more, dripping on the ground in small green spots. The Greenskin didn't get tired, and its attacks redoubled with savagery. The young brown Skaven wasn't worried about it, on the contrary the awkwardness of his opponent exhilarated him. Finally, he turned around the Orc one last time, and the tip of his rapier slat the air up to its throat.

One more on my hunting board!

- Behind you, Kit!

The young Steiner immediately jumped to one side. An axe planted the ground just where he had been a half-second earlier. The Orc encamped on its feet a few yards away roared in frustration, but a bullet exploded its naked torso and made it twirl backward. It laid down on the ground.

Kristofferson turned to the Skaven who had warned him.

- Thanks, pal!

Pol answered with a little hand sign, and hid himself under the shelter of a wall to reload his harquebus.

Kristofferson searched quickly for a new opponent to face. He spotted a huge Greenskin in front of one of the houses. The massive bully was threatening an old man with its huge club. In a flash, he grabbed the axe that was still lying on the ground not far from him, and threw it at the aggressor. The axe whirled to its target, but touched it with the handle. This, however, destabilized the big Orc, which allowed the old man to move away. Kristofferson ran to the Greenskin with a cry of defiance.

The Orc was huge, and was better protected than the others. It was carrying all kinds of armour pieces stolen from his previous victims, the only exception was its helmet, roughly wrought to completely protect an Orc's skull. It saw the ratman arrive, and faced him, ready to knock down its club on him. One more time, Kristofferson swirled around the Orc and waved his rapier in front of it. The Orc positioned its mace horizontally and turned on itself, faster and faster, until it became a crushing cyclone. The roar it uttered made it really scary for a frightened villager. Which was not the case with Kristofferson.

Jumping from one foot to the other, the young brown Skaven continued to turn around the Orc which was still spinning like a top. The spectacle of this unusual ballet could have been fun to observe if there had not been all this violence. The green-skinned barbarian was clumsily heading for the cottage, and its mace hit a wall. It was cut short in its tracks, and remained dazed. It leaned a few blows on its temple to regain its senses. Kristofferson saw an opportunity to cause a very disabling injury.

- Take this!

And with a firm and precise gesture, he plunged the blade of his rapier just under the armpit of the Orc. It sank into the gnarled flesh on a whole fifteen inches long. But he realized with astonishment that the green-skinned giant only uttered a short grunt before replying, barely embarrassed by the steel running through his body. The brown Skaven only had time to let go his weapon and back up. The club brushed his head, but crushed his hand on the daub wall of the house. A blistering pain made Kristofferson groan, tears stung his eyes. The Orc knocked him down with a handle blow on his chest.

Kristofferson found himself on his back, the backbone bruised by the shock, short of breath. In front of him, the huge Orc approached slowly, sneering, and raised his club again with both hands. The young ratman concentrated on determining which side he should roll to avoid the attack at best, as his opponent's head exploded in a slamming clatter. The huge Greenskin carcass swung forward and froze just before Kristofferson's feet.

Captain Rudy Müller rushed to the young Steiner, his fist clenched on his still smoking harquebus.

- My liege!

- Oh... Splendid, captain! You have arrived at the right moment!

- Fortunately their armours are nothing but junk! Are you hurt?

The Human helped Kristofferson to get up.

- It smashed my hand! growled the ratman.

- Can you fight?

- Wait...

Kristofferson approached the corpse and extirpated his sword away from it in an only pull.

- It's fine, captain. I will... I'll...

The young ratman felt suddenly dizzy. The taste of blood of his burst lip invaded his mouth. The backlash of the pain, the exhaustion following such stress, he couldn't say. He staggered, his legs bobbed. The captain hastened to grip him by his shoulders to support him.

- Come! I bring you to a safer place.

Kristofferson didn't answer, but he knew the captain was right. He was no longer able to play the hero. He followed painfully Müller's footsteps. The flames made the sky glow. The screams, the rattles, the clash of arms still resounded violently in his ears. It was then that he heard a horn. The rolling of several dozen pairs of boots and howls of charge shook his eardrums. He raised his head, and saw a whole contingent of armed men running towards the Orcs. Realizing that the barbarians would quickly have the underside, he let himself plunge into unconsciousness.

Kristofferson slowly opened her eyes. A sharp pain in his right hand tore him completely from the mists of unconsciousness. He straightened up with a squeak. A clear voice reassured him:

- Don't worry, it's over.

The young Steiner looked around him. He was lying on a pallet unrolled on the earthy floor of the barn. A strong smell of blood brought back his nostrils. Many warriors, Humans and Skaven, suffered more or less loudly from their wounds. He turned his head again, and his eyes fell on a young Human girl. She was wearing the white dress of Shallya's priestesses, and was kneeling beside him. She was buxom without being too much fat, had long brown hair knotted in small braids, and a round face with large clear eyes. She smiled at the ratman.

- Stay still, and everything will be fine.

- Who are you?

- Sister Carolina Kuhlmann, from the Wüstengrenze temple. I arrived with Captain Kreutzer.

The young brown Skaven looked down at his right arm. The priestess had tied his fingers to each other, and put a splint that went up almost to his elbow.

- I did what I could, but do not hesitate to ask the priestesses of Steinerburg to take over.

- Hmm... That seems to hold on well.

- A small revision every week will not be a bad idea. In the meantime, you need to rest, and let your body put back the bones and flesh in place. In a month, you'll be able to fencing again!

The brown Skaven made an ironic grin.

- What a mistake! It's my fault.

- Defend ours, a fault? You're astonishing me!

- No, that's not what I meant. My fault is to have underestimated my opponent. I wanted to try a strike on an exposed place where the wound is not deadly, but can hurt a lot. Although, this brute didn't flinch. I didn't think Orcs could be so insensitive to pain.

- Is this the first time you face Orcs?

- Indeed, and I'm in not in a hurry to renew this experience!

- I've been told that Orcs have a much more restorative blood than Humans or Skaven. They even say if you cut an arm or a leg from an Orc, you just have to keep the sliced limb tight on its stump and wait for it to stick back on its own in a few hours.

- Too bad I don't have green blood, then.

- May Shallya witness it to me, I prefer you as you are. If you had Orc blood, that would reduce our work load, but if it made you as bellicose, it would add to us three times more!

Kristofferson leaned his eyes down at his hand again, then looked warmer at the nun.

- Thank you for your kindness.

- I'm only doing my duty.

- If I can do anything for you or your order, ask.

Carolina hesitated a moment, then leaned forward and whispered:

- Captain Müller told me that you are the grandson of Prince Steiner. Is it true?

- It is.

- You have the opportunity to see chaplain Romulus?

- Every time I'm at home, he's my grandfather's closest friend.

- Far be it from me to want to be a profiteer, but perhaps you could intercede on our behalf?

- What do you expect from me, exactly?

- We had lately to deal with an epidemic. We were able to save everyone, but our stocks of medicines are empty. We could harvest it ourselves, but the renewal of stocks may be too slow by next winter.

- Did your Superior Mother ask for it?

- She did, but she thinks Captain Kreutzer has kept shipments for his soldiers. Normally, we, Shallya's priestesses, should be the ones who manage the reserves. Mother Hannah sent other letters, in the absence of an answer, but still did not have any news. She suspects the captain of intercepting the mail, but cannot prove it.

- Yeah...

Carolina looked right, then left, then leaned forward and whispered two tones lower:

- Just between us, sir, I think Captain Kreutzer has strong ideas about the abilities of us women.

Kristofferson grimaced and sighed.

- Better and better! Do you imagine I told my men yesterday that only the Feral Skaven don't consider their women as equal persons!

- I wish I would this to be so simple, sir... alas, on this question, Humans have not much to envy them. Many women who have come to the Rat Kingdom have borne the brunt of these inequalities. I know some of them.

The young ratman scratched his head, and said with conviction:

- I don't know how far it will go, but I promise you that Romulus will know everything as soon as I get back to Steinerburg. All you have to do is ask your superior to write a new letter and give it to me before I leave.

He felt his heart warming as he saw a small smile on the round face of the girl.

- You are worthy of your rank. Thank you.

- I'm only doing my duty, he said with a wink.

Someone entered the dormitory. It was Walter.

- Kit, are you better?

- I knew worse, lied the brown Skaven, anxious to save face. Many losses?

- Those Greenskins bastards have done some serious damage in our ranks! We lost eight men. It was Müller's troop that had the prettiest rough. Thirty dead, I can't remember.

- Damn it…

Kristofferson thought of the brave captain and his professionalism. He promised himself to return him the favour in due time. But the expression on Walter's face disturbed the young ratman more. He didn't need more time to understand.

- And... what about the inhabitants of Klapperschlänge?

Kristofferson's faithful friend didn't answer. The young Steiner sprang from his bed, and ran outside. He found himself facing disaster.

The sun rose painfully on a completely ravaged village. The smaller buildings were nothing but crumbs. The larger houses reduced to smoking ruins. And, on the side, many cattle of the village, gathered in piles by the men of Müller, lay crushed, smashed under the fury of the Waaagh.

That's why it stinks so much...

The worst was exactly what Kristofferson had feared: there were no villagers left alive. All the bodies were lined up, wrapped in thick stuffs to be buried. In front of this terrible spectacle, Kristofferson clenched his fists so nervously he felt pain in his knuckles.

All these brave people who trusted us, who showed themselves united against the danger... By Taal's antlers, I will massacre all the Orcs I can!

- So, doesn't it deserve a thanking?

The young ratman jumped, suddenly pulled out of his thoughts. He turned around, and found himself facing a Human whose appearance was rather disturbing. He was a tall man, with slender but muscular limbs under his reinforced clothes. A broad, shining forehead, two sharp eyes, and a well-cut moustache could be seen under his cap. His hollow cheeks made his face skeletal. His breastplate was engraved with the coat of arms visible on the banner worn by his lieutenant who was still on horseback.

- Who are you?

- Your saviour, replied the other one without the slightest friendship. Hansel Kreutzer, captain of the Wüstengrenze guard. My sentries spotted the Orcs' torches as they arrived near your barracks. We arrived as soon as possible, and by my faith, just in time. Without us, you would all be dead.

Captain Müller stood beside the two men.

- They're already all dead, Kreutzer!

- And you're still alive, Müller. Do not complain.

Kreutzer spoke again to the brown Skaven.

- It's a good thing we arrived. You couldn't have done anything with that old fag for only help.

Müller put his hand on his sword.

- What did you just say?

The skeletal human blasted the old captain with a scornful look.

- I said you're dead wood. This carnage proves it.

- I inform you that we could have avoided this carnage if you had sent reinforcements when I came to ask you for!

- Are you insinuating I'm an unworthy soldier, Müller?

- I don't insinuate it, I affirm it!

Kreutzer planted himself in front of Müller. The contempt in his eyes turned into a heavy threat. Feeling the situation fester, Kristofferson intervened.

- Captain Müller, please, let's settle this kindly. Captain Kreutzer, I am Kristofferson Steiner, son of Master Mage Prospero Steiner, and grandson of His Majesty Ludwig the First. It is he who commissioned me to understand what has been happening for some time in Klapperschlänge.

- Well, you have your answer, Master Steiner. Orcs marauders attacked, and we arrived in time to kill them all and prevent them from further harming the Rat Kingdom.

- And I thank you for that, Captain Kreutzer. You are right, without you, we would all be history. The Prince will be informed of your professionalism.

Thanks to his grandfather's lessons in diplomacy, Kristofferson had found the right words and tone to ease tensions. The skeletal figure of Wüstengrenze's captain unstrung a few, but he did not lose his stern look, nor his cold stare.

- I'd like to know something, Captain Kreutzer: Captain Müller told me that he came to see you some time ago to let you know about his concerns. He repeated it a minute ago. Is he telling the truth?

- Yes, Master Steiner.

- Did he ask you for reinforcements?

- He did.

- Then why haven't you satisfy his request?

Kreutzer looked at Müller scornfully.

- I didn't believe him.

- You didn't believe him? You mean you don't trust someone who has the same rank as you in the same army as you?

- I wouldn't waste my men's time by following blindly the words of an old captain known for his lack of competence.

Müller's face flushed again.

- You are really a...

- Captain Müller, calm down, please, Kit interrupted, raising his valid hand. Captain Kreutzer, so you didn't trust Captain Müller?

- No, I didn't trust him. But before you ask, I have no remorse. I have always acted in my soul and conscience in the way I consider the most just.

Kristofferson showed with a gesture the whole extent of the disaster on the village.

- If you had sent someone here on the first request of Müller, your men would have seen the traces of the attacks of the wyverns. You would have acted accordingly. Instead, you have turned a deaf ear to him, and you can now behold the result: the Orcs have massacred the whole village! A village that you could have helped us to defend! These people were your fellow-citizens, captain!

- If they couldn't defend themselves, it was because they were not worthy. Our Kingdom doesn't need a few peasants unable to fend for themselves.

- Our Kingdom needs conscientious army men, captain. You have been negligent, and this negligence has cost the lives of the people of Klapperschlänge. It was not their role to them to defend ourselves, it was ours, the men-at-arms, to protect them.

- Are you sure you are well-placed to dictate my duty, Steiner? You're not a career soldier.

- I participated in many Harvest campaigns, Captain Kreutzer. Believe me, I faced my share of enraged opponents. It is true I have fewer years of service than you have, but they have allowed me to know how to manage my men with Captain Müller. Otherwise, you would have found nothing but corpses here!

The tall, stern man didn't answer. He shrugged vaguely.

- Captain Kreutzer, I shall report to Commander Schmetterling, and to my grandfather, the Prince. I kindly invite you to learn how to use the fork and the plow, because I can promise you that you will never give the least order to the last of the orderlies anymore.

He left Kreutzer to his silence and left in the opposite direction. The captain's voice broke the silence.

- It will be your word against mine, Steiner. I'll say that Müller misjudged the situation. I'll add that you have not been able to shelter them. And I know Schmetterling enough to be sure he won't believe the words of lousy giant rats.

The faces of the few Skaven still alive twitched angrily, and some grumbled, "What did he spit?" And "Hey, say it again?". A couple of them nervously grabbed their weapons. Kristofferson stopped short, facing his men, and raised his valid hand to intimate them to stay still. He took his breath, blew, then he chuckled, and his laugh grew louder.

- Can I know why you find that so funny? Kreutzer asked dryly.

The young brown Skaven stopped. He murmured without turning around.

- Because I know something you don't know.

The captain approached mechanically to hear better, and asked:

- And what is that?

- I'm not right-handed.

Kreutzer raised his eyebrows, wondering what his interlocutor meant, when he widened his eyes as he felt a terrible burning sensation lacerating his skull. In a heartbeat, Kristofferson had turned, his rapier in his left hand, and in two sharp and precise swooshes had slashed a cross just in the middle of his forehead. The Human, stunned and shaken by the pain, fell on his posterior. He moaned as he felt the blood dripping under his eyelids.

- So, I'll know exactly where to plant my blade if I hear again a word coming out of your mouth, Kreutzer. In the meantime, by the powers conferred upon me by Prince Steiner, I discharge you from all your military functions.

Then, without the slightest glance at the man on the ground, Kristofferson crossed the ranks and invited his men to follow him with a hand gesture.