Three knocks sounded on the door of the little house. It was a home in the Hammer Quarter, where shopkeepers and members of the guard with a family used to live. Not one of the largest mansions, but maintained with military rigour. The door was opened by a ratwoman with features weighted by fatigue and sadness. She had to raise her eyes, surprised to face such a tall interlocutor.
- Frau Tenenbaum?
- Yes, who are you? the ratwoman asked in an exhausted voice.
- Captain Marjan Gottlieb, I represent the princely stewardess.
Without saying a word, Mrs. Tenenbaum let in the tall blonde woman and guided her to the living room. The latter couldn't help feeling butterflies in her stomach when she saw in a corner of the room a young ratman barely older than the last son of the Master Mage who was hugging two girls younger than he was. They were crying without restraint on his shoulders.
Conscious of doing a dirty job, Marjan decided to abbreviate.
- Your husband has nobly accomplished his duty. Thanks to him, we arrested a dangerous criminal.
- I thank you, Lady Gottlieb, but what's the point? Whether he died in battle or in the arms of his mistress, the result is the same! What will we become? Our Human parents are dead, the four of them! I don't have any work, my children are still too young for this! We are done!
Marjan hesitated between compassion and annoyance. Other poorer families had already their children at work although they were younger than hers. She took a purse full of gold crowns from her satchel.
- Here, take that. This is the double of the monthly salary of your husband. And I invite you to go to the barracks treasury the first day of each month, from now on. You will be given the same amount of money, until the end of your days. It won't get your husband back, but at least you won't be in need.
The ratwoman calmed down a little. The blonde woman took the opportunity to continue:
- The Master Mage is aware of being indebted to this soldier. That's why he's willing to help you if you need someday.
- Right. Oh, excuse me if I could appear...
- No, Mrs Tenenbaum. You don't have to apologize. On the other hand, if you allow me, I have some instructions to give you.
- Yes?
Marjan took her breath, and tried to explain:
- Where there is a Feral Skaven, there may be others. This one was an isolated killer, but maybe it has partners. For the sake of all, it is better to avoid for the moment that this story gets out. Humans and Skaven can panic, and this could create serious tension between our two races. There is probably no very important group, otherwise we would have spotted them, I guess. We shall organize patrols in the sewers. That's the ways they use, they cannot afford to walk to the surface. But I'll ask you all to remain vigilant. If you hear any unusual noise, if you smell a strange odour, if something really weird catches your attention, I'll ask you to come and tell us immediately. And above all, stay discreet. If someone questions you about this, answer your husband was killed by a fugitive Human criminal. Understood?
Mrs. Tenenbaum nodded without saying a word. It was then that the boy released his sisters and approached Marjan.
- Captain Gottlieb, can you tell us... how it happened?
- Do you really want me to describe the whole scene?
- I would like to know how you arrested his killer.
The tall woman pouted.
- Indeed, you have the right to know that, anyway. You allow me to sit down?
On the invitation of Mrs. Tenenbaum, the captain took a seat on a stool and began her story:
"Larn's mistake was to think like a Feral Skaven, and not to put himself in the shoes of a Skaven of Vereinbarung – manner of speaking, Skaven usually don't wear shoes. So, he sneaked in, he stole your husband's gear, but there is one thing he didn't think about: the smell. Larn went through the sewers, he still had the smell of dirty water and garbage on him, but he was not paying attention, because he is used to this smell, and thought it was the same thing of all Skaven living in the city. A brother-in-arms of your husband, Private Ernst Sonnenkopf, felt it, which puzzled him. Then he followed the instructions asked in case of unusual detail: he imitated three times in succession the howling of an owl. The other guards heard him, and responded in the same way. This alarm signal has reached the property. A servant woke up the Master Mage and the Prince. They then applied the security directive."
"A few months ago, the Master Mage asked his son to craft a Feral Skaven trap for him: a leather bladder grain bag-sized filled with a gas of his invention. This booby-trap is always ready to be used in a small closet. Prospero and his wife hid, after leaving the balloon in their bed, with even a fake pair of horns on the pillow. When the killer came in, he thought he was looking at the Master Mage under the sheets. He threw himself on him to stab him, and burst the balloon. The gas that was inside quickly put him to sleep."
"Since we arrived here, we are prepared to welcome people like him. His target could only be the Master Mage. No Feral Skaven would leave his burrow to venture so far into the Renegade Crowns, except to catch the only Skaven to have left their society to live among the Humans. The only question was: "when?" Now we know it."
Marjan stood for a moment at the eyes of the four pairs of eyes of the Tenenbaum family, then stood up. She didn't want to stay longer.
- Good. Now, if you don't mind, I leave. Good luck.
The Skaven widow didn't answer, could just blow her nose. Marjan found herself outside. But as she took the reins of her horse, she saw the little young man approaching.
- Captain, in a few months, I will have reached my majority. I want to honour my father! Tell me I can serve under your orders!
The tall woman opened wide eyes surprised.
- You can't be serious, son?
- I am very serious! I want to join the army!
Marjan ran her hand over his face.
- Wait, I think you do not realize the whole stuff. If you really want to honour your father, don't do what he did.
- Why, why? I have been thinking about it, I want to fight!
- You didn't think at all, otherwise you would have already seen that you would condemn your family! You want to engage yourself on a path whose consequences remain totally unknown to you.
- The Master Mage is indebted to us! That's what you told my mother! I want him to integrate me in your regiment! I want to become a soldier! I want to make myself useful against this misfortune!
- So, stay with your family, son.
The young ratman winced.
- You think I'm not able to, don't you? I am a man, a real one!
- That's not the point.
- And you? Would you have become a captain if you had listened to someone who tried to discourage you? What did your parents say?
These words brutally heated the backbone of the tall woman. She put her hand on the Skaven's arm, looked at him in his eyes, so intensely, that his expression became hesitant. As she felt a fault, she didn't hesitate to exploit it.
- What is your name?
- My name is Holger. At your command!
- Good. So, listen carefully to me, Holger Tenenbaum: first, you're not at my command. Then, your mother has just experienced the worst moment of her life, and your sisters too, and I guess you did too. Don't forget that joining the army is risking your ass every day. Losing her husband is a very tough ordeal. Losing a child... no parent can experience worse suffering. If you really want to be "a man, a real one", then act responsibly and don't think about joining the army! My parents ordered me to join the army. I am noble by birth, my father was a lord, I had to prove myself according to his will. He had his throat cut just like your father when I was your age. My mother insisted for me to be able to defend myself, and that's why I became a soldier. But it is really not a sinecure. I assume, but maybe I would have preferred parents who don't send their children to death for the honour of their family. So, if you love your mother and your sisters as much as they love you, don't take the risk of reviving this hell. Get yourself an honest and safe occupation. For that, the Master Mage can help you.
Holger didn't answer. He remained silent a few moments, almost dazed by the frankness of the huge Human. Finally, he nodded slowly.
- Maybe… you are right.
- Maybe, and maybe not. But I give you my opinion, and I hope you'll consider it seriously at least the time it will have to take to avoid you to commit a stupidity.
- Want to serve the crown is stupidity?
- Want to engage into one of the riskiest careers in the world when you have everything to lose is pure stupidity. Especially when you have other choices.
- Well...
Marjan knew that she had touched the heart of her interlocutor. Holger sighed deeply.
- Right. And... what will become this killer?
- We're thinking about it. But in any case, you'll never see it again. As for you, take care of yourself, stay close to your family, and no longer think of risking your life to be a soldier for the wrong reasons.
The young Skaven didn't reply. The tall captain left him on the doorstep and returned to the barracks.
Half an hour later, Marjan was in the stewardship, empty of any soldier by order of the Prince. She finished telling the monarch her conversation. Jochen, Heike and Psody were also listening.
- And I did everything to dissuade him from joining the army. This kid has better things to do.
- You're absolutely right, young girl, Steiner agreed. I have enough soldiers for the moment.
- I only hope we're not at the dawn of a war, Heike whispered. But, tell me ... you didn't tell them how Larn found our bedroom?
- No, my friend, be sure of that. It is useless to frighten them more.
- This is a problem we'll have to settle as soon as possible, said the Prince in a dismal tone.
Nobody added a word, but everyone knew exactly what to expect.
After years of advanced study, the three editors of the Encyclopaedia of the Children of the Horned Rat knew the methods of the Clan Eshin assassins. To make sure he did not make a mistake, Larn had managed to get a piece of cloth with Psody's scent impregnated on it. It was unlikely, however, that he would have taken the risk of stealing this sample himself. Most certainly, he had bribed someone to do it for him, and handed him a piece of clothing, a napkin, a sheet, anything that had been in contact with the Master Mage.
And so, that meant that there was a traitor within the borders of the Rat Kingdom.
- Maybe... Larn eliminated his accomplice? Jochen dared.
- It's possible-possible, but even if he did, there could be others.
- Be that as it may, prudence is imperative, said Steiner. We'll all have to redouble our attention, because this threat is much more insidious than a band of Feral Skaven attacking head-on. We must invite others to be very careful, without too much being too explicit. Otherwise, a wind of panic could be caused, or a traitor could be warned involuntarily.
- I've already sent Kit a missive, said the White Skaven. On the other hand, my friends, Father, my children, we talked about it, Heike and me. And we ask you not to say anything to Gabriel and Isolde.
- Why, then? Bianka asked. Your life is threatened, they have the right to know!
The captain had the surprise to see Sigmund's twin sister. Bianka had no trouble to make her brother tell the whole story when she had seen his embarrassed face, and had insisted to her parents to be in the confidence.
It was Heike who answered her daughter:
- It's not so simple, darling. We must take this situation seriously, and be more vigilant than usual, but we must also be careful not to worry them. You are mature and responsible enough. Otherwise, you know Gabriel, and his nervousness. As for Isolde, she is far too small to accept the concept of a permanent threat. If they ever learn that a Feral Skaven has come into our house to kill your father, they won't be able to sleep at night, eat, or go to a dark place without a terrible fear in their stomach. I don't want them to suffer that.
The young girl pouted thoughtfully.
- Well, I have a reclassification to finish. May I dismiss?
- I beg you, replied the Prince.
- Perfect! I don't want to discuss such a subject any longer.
- You are the one who insisted on that, Sigmund reproached.
Without a look to the Black Skaven, the Skaven girl got up and left the office. It was the moment Marjan asked:
- And so, what should we do with this prisoner?
- My son, you are the one who is best able to answer this question, said the Prince. I let you solve this problem as your wish.
The White Skaven was a little surprised, but nodded.
A few minutes later, Psody, his son and the Twins were in front of the cell where Larn was still confined. The tall Black Skaven was shocked. The Gutter Runner was seated in a corner of the cell, prostrated, his head buried between his knees, looking more miserable than ever.
Sigmund had never suspected that he could feel anything but hate or determination against the inhabitants of the Under-Empire, these cannibalistic, rapacious, opportunistic and cowardly monsters. And yet... he saw one who was clearly experiencing terrible fear and sorrow. He felt something cracking in the depths of his mind.
- Ho! Are you listening to me?
The voice of the White Skaven made him start.
- Uh... yes... what...
- I said-said it would be safer to kill it.
A thrill electrified Sigmund's back.
- Yet... he could lead us to his accomplices!
- It's very uncertain, Siggy. In my opinion, those who brought it here already forgot it.
- You sure? Jochen asked.
- Skaven are not the kind to worry about those of them who disappear. If we get rid of this one, it won't bother us anymore. If it is allowed to leave, it may come back with reinforcements, having told all it knows. Let's kill it.
- No! Sigmund exclaimed suddenly. If we do that, we shall not be better than him.
In the cell, Larn raised his head. Even if he couldn't speak Reikspiel, he guessed that the four friends were in the process of consulting each other on his fate. The tone was rising. The big man-thing with the hairy chin was getting upset.
- Sigmund, we have confronted Feral Skaven enough times to know their methods and their lack of loyalty. Your father is right; for its burrow, it is already dead!
- Jochen, listen, please... tried Sigmund.
- It's an assassin! added Marjan. It probably knows nothing interesting! We must show the Under-Empire what we do to assassins!
The Gottlieb brother walked to the cell with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
- Don't!
Sigmund stepped between Jochen and the cell door.
- Don't do that, Jochen!
- It's a Feral Skaven! One more, one less, what's the difference? And then, I thought you were "ready to demolish them all?"
- It's not the same thing, with this one!
- Feral Skaven are bad, Sigmund, Marjan said harshly. You know it, you already fought lots of them!
- Come on, look at him, he's scared to death! He won't hurt anymore! If we execute him, we won't be better than him!
- It tried to kill your father!
- But he didn't succeed! He doesn't deserve death! And we are not murderers!
- Go to the Tenenbaum family and repeat that! spat the blonde woman.
- Tenenbaum would like us to stop an invasion! Thanks to Larn, we can!
- Would you really trust the progeny of the Under-Empire?
Sigmund turned his head to his father, and begged him with a supplicant stare to speak in his favour. The two Humans remained silent, waiting for the answer.
The White Skaven thought for a moment, took his breath, and spoke in a low voice.
- The Prince has charged me to make the final decision. This is a first for me because there are issues. The life of a Feral Skaven, and a threat to Vereinbarung. On the one hand, you're right, Sigmund. We are not murderers, and perhaps it could allow us to stop an invasion attempt. On the other hand, the Twins have good arguments. It killed an honest citizen, it has probably already been abandoned by its peers, and if it disappears, no one will care-worry about it.
The White Skaven paused, then said:
- We let it live...
- It is a mistake! protested the tall blond woman.
- But we won't let it go as if there is nothing amiss, said Psody, a tone higher.
The White Skaven turned to his younger son.
- You insist for allowing it to live. Very good. But we cannot keep it, or take the risk it to do damage or manage to get into its burrow.
- Can't we really... make him one of ours?
Psody had a wince.
- Have you looked-looked at it? Impossible. I remind you it came to kill me. And then, it's not different from other Feral Skaven.
- You told him you wanted to submit Feral Skaven! Let's start with this one!
- As long as it has the hope that its comrades to be able to avenge it, it will never be able to change its mind about us. It's too early for it. We'll see when there will be only a few moribund colonies left.
- What if he understands that he has no chance to be got back?
- What if Karl Franz propose to build a temple to the Horned Rat in Altdorf? Jochen quipped.
- Shut up! Sigmund barked.
- Jochen, please, asked the Master Mage. Sigmund, here's what I propose-propose to you: you will accompany Larn to the meeting spot.
- I'd be surprised it to spit it out, Marjan grumbled.
- Don't be so sure. Feral Skaven are ready to do anything to prolong their lives by a minute, including betraying their burrow. Given his condition, it should not be too difficult to convince this one. Once in the right place, you'll capture one of his pals to force it to reveal the place of their colony.
- Do you think many of them to wait for him?
- Probably no more than a couple Eshin. If there are more-more, it wouldn't be discreet.
Marjan showed dubious.
- How can you be so sure?
- I was a Grey Seer. I don't know all the secrets of all Clans, but Vellux taught-learned me basics. Gutter Runners never move more than half a dozen when they infiltrate an enemy place. Especially when they are in unknown territory.
- If that's the case, there will be half a dozen assassins to get Larn back, Jochen recapped. Siggy, you know if you'll be able to deal with so much?
The tall Black Skaven didn't answer. He just groaned with a pouting pout.
- Right, you know you'll be able to deal with so much.
- We'll feed it with drugged meat, said Psody. Given its condition, it will throw itself on without thinking-thinking. We'll put it in a box to transport it discreetly out of the city. I'll let you some reserves of dried meat, so it doesn't die by starvation during your travel. I shall also give you a water bottle.
- Right.
- Once you've caught an Eshin, you'll go to the nearest barracks with it and Larn, then you'll let us know. I'll come with a battalion, and we'll make speak the other Eshin together. We'll leave there both of them, and we'll take care of their burrow. And if this plan succeeds-works... Larn will be permitted to leave.
The two Humans sighed in annoyance. Sigmund, his throat knotted, murmured painfully:
- Thank you, Father.
- Don't thank me too quickly, Siggy. You'll be the one to explain to the Tenenbaum widow that the murderer of her husband has been freed in exchange for a greater victory over the Under-Empire.
- I will, replied the tall black Skaven
The Gottlieb looked at each other. Each one detected a serious doubt in the eyes of the other one.
As Psody had imagined, it didn't take much time Larn to tell all what he could in exchange for few food. His explanations were vague, but after a long ten minutes, the Master Mage and his friends understood that he had come from the southwest. The first thing the Gutter Runner had spotted was a "big building of ruined stones with four large canvases stretched over a wooden cross". Most likely an abandoned mill, as there were a few - some parts of the Kingdom of the Rats remained deserted, especially those in the south, the farthest from the province of Barak Varr, the largest port by which arrived most people come to try their luck in the Renegade Crowns.
Then he devoured in a few seconds the meatballs prepared by Romulus, before collapsing, overwhelmed by drugs. Romulus had observed, not without satisfaction, that he had not forget how to calculate the doses according to the individual to be transported.
Sitting on the seat of the cart, Sigmund was a little annoyed. He didn't want to travel without his trusty mare, Okapia. On the other hand, he had no intention of making her do such a thankless job as dragging a cart full of old rags that hid a wooden box in which was locked a Feral Skaven. At least he wouldn't have to impose on his mount Larn's smell.
While Jochen and Marjan finished laying the tarpaulin on the cart, Psody told some last recommendations to his son.
- Be careful, Siggy. Go only in the middle of the countryside. Never stop near an inhabited place.
- Yes, Father.
- A citizen Skaven could smell the stench of this murderer if he stays too close. Or worse-worse, Larn could feel a citizen Skaven. If it happens, you can be sure he'll do anything to get his attention.
- Even if it means me to break his head?
- A cornered Feral Skaven doesn't think, Siggy. He acts according to his instinct.
- Right.
The Black Skaven noticed that his father's face tinted with worry.
- Please don't play hero; I don't think so, but if they are more than half a dozen, let it go and go stash with Larn. I'd rather have a failed plan and a son still alive than a son killed by Clan Eshin rogues.
- Yes, yes.
The White Skaven put his hand on the wrist of his son.
- The most important thing remains-remains... never trust it. Never.
- Do you believe he could drag me into a trap?
- I don't believe anything at all. I know any Feral Skaven in its situation would do anything to save its ass. Even if it looks completely helpless, even if it's all the way-day long whining, do-not-trust-it-ever!
Sigmund sighed, but nodded.
- Are you sure you do not want to be accompanied? Jochen asked.
- I'll be able to regulate this story by myself, replied the young ratman.
Without further ceremony, the Black Skaven cracked his whip. The nag neighed slightly, and the hitch left the property, under Psody's worried look.
Bianka, leaning out of her bedroom window, felt her heart tighten as she saw the cart go.
Don't be silly, Siggy. Please.
Two hours later, the wagon was on the way to the village of Fischbach. It was a place the Black Skaven had never seen. He smiled. Discovering new places was a small personal pleasure. He would see new landscapes, without crossing the border, and therefore take the risk of being attacked by Humans.
He was suddenly drawn from his thoughts by a series of screeches and loud blows. The horse pawed with panic.
No doubt, Larn was awake.
Sigmund stopped the cart, put his head under the canvas behind him, and scolded in queekish:
- Stop right now, or I tear your head off!
The noise stopped. Larn's wheezing voice groaned under the rags.
- Why am I in there? Where are we? Where are we going?
- We're on the way to where your friends should pick you up, Larn.
- What? Why-why?
- Once I've found the building where the other Eshin have to take you back, you'll bait them.
- Huh?
- I want to know where Dalwos of Clan Skab is, and you are going to help me to discover.
- But... If I do that, you'll slaughter my whole burrow!
- Either you obey-obey, or I kill you here-now. Make your choice!
The Feral Skaven didn't answer. Sigmund decided to hit the road again.
After a few hours, night fell. The Black Skaven spotted a small wood nearby. He decided to camp there, in order to stay away from the road. Once the cart had stopped, he tied the reins of the horse around a tree, climbed to the back of the cart, cleared the heaps of cloth. A strong smell of urine stung his nostrils.
For a moment, he was afraid to see the prisoner dead in one way or another, but he was not. No sooner had he opened the small hatch at the top of the cage than the Feral Skaven immediately yelped:
- I'm hungry-hungry!
Sigmund dropped a quarter of raw meat into the opening before folding the flapper.
- Enjoy, you Eshin scum!
He came down from the cart, and took his own meal from his backpack. But the Feral Skaven complained again.
- I cannot eat!
- Make an effort! Eat it on the floor!
Larn was securely tied with chains and handcuffs on his wrists and ankles. He had to twist and lie on his stomach to be able to grasp the food between his long teeth. Finally, the complaints and the chewing noises stopped.
Sigmund thought he would sleep soon, when he heard another characteristic sound. It had to be obvious: once again, the prisoner was crying.
The tall Black Skaven grumbled. He returned to the cart, and asked:
- What is it, now?
- I'm scared-scared.
- What are you afraid of? My father promised to let you go if you lead us to your fellows-accomplices!
- Blasphemous one... big liar!
- Hey, he has flaws, but he's not a liar. And I'd like to remind-remind you that I am the one who insisted you not to be executed on the spot! Unlike your Nightleader, I will keep our promise. I am a Skaven of his word.
- Afraid of the reaction of the Nightleader! Mission failed! Nightleader will kill-kill me! And my pals that you force-oblige me to betray? There are Sons of the Horned Rat that I don't want to see die-die because of you!
- You, friends? In the ranks of Clan Eshin? You all are traitors.
- No-no! I have Clan friends! There is Rotrug, Tifyay, Ghuill...
- All right, I got it!
Sigmund sighed.
- My father, whom you call "Blasphemous One", had an Eshin brother. He should have been closer to him than a friend. Instead, he tried to kill him. He backstabbed him. Like the Eshin traitor he was. Now shut up, I want to sleep.
Thus ended the conversation.
The journey resumed the next morning at dawn. The cart horse wasn't very energetic, and time passed slowly, slower than expected. Sigmund was watching for any building looking like a mill, but those he saw were all functional. He carefully avoided passing through populated places, small villages, relay inns, and continued tirelessly in the same direction.
Two days passed thus. Curiously, Larn was quiet, so much so that Sigmund had to check several times if he was still alive in the box. The smell of urine and excrement became difficult to tolerate, even in the open air, and it put him in a bad mood.
The third evening, the third Black Skaven grumbled when he realized that his supply of dried meat had dangerously declined. He promised himself to buy some at the next village he would see. He was especially worried about finding no trace of the so-called meeting point.
- Still no mill in ruins as we approach the border, Larn. I hope-hope you didn't lie!
- No, no! I swear, O Mighty of the Horned Rat!
- I don't worship the Horned Rat! retorted Sigmund.
They continued in silence for a few minutes, when Larn's voice timidly asked:
- Are you happy-happy of yourself, Stormvermin?
- I am, so much. Thank you! Sigmund replied wickedly.
- But... "much" how? What is it, to be "so much happy"?
The Black Skaven agreed to answer:
- No fear tightens my stomach as I live.
- Ah...?
The voice of the dark grey Feral Skaven reflected perplexity. Sigmund noticed it, and wanted to take advantage of it to make him think.
- If you had been born in one of the nurseries we explored, you would be happier today, Larn.
- But the Skaven traitors are so weak-soft! How can they be happy?
- They are free, Larn. They live normally, that is to say without being afraid all the time of everything that surrounds them. They work honestly, and always have something to eat-dress. The Sons of the Horned Rat society doesn't work this way.
- How do you know? You've never lived in a burrow, have you?
- I haven't, but I explored borrows. I saw the conditions in which your kindred live. No wonder you are all like this! Condemned from birth to kill or be killed! We are trying to break this curse that stifles our race.
- I see…
Half an hour later, night had fallen. Sigmund then spotted the remains of a sheepfold that had been abandoned for a long time. The Black Skaven thought:
An abandoned sheepfold... we must be in a desert corner of the kingdom. This particular mill shouldn't be very far. One more reason to sleep!
He stopped the cart near the small building.
- Here, we'll take some rest there.
Larn didn't answer. Sigmund pushed back the rags, and opened the hatch.
- Yuck! It stinks!
He stepped back as he heard buzzing flies.
- Hurts… too much. Want to... breathe. Let me... let me sleep outside!
Sigmund sighed.
- Right, come on, you really pain me.
He took from his pocket the key of the padlock that closed the box, and unlocked it. He opened the cage wide. Larn was really pitiful, chained and lying in his own droppings.
- Since you've been a good boy, tonight, I'll grant you a little favour, Larn.
He grabbed Larn by the chain wrapped around his chest and lifted him out of the cart. He put him on the ground near a tree.
- Listen-listen very carefully, Larn.
Sigmund took his sword and his spare dagger and put them in the box. He locked the padlock, then tied the key to a string that he knotted to his wrist. He picked up his musette resting on the seat, and finally approached the prisoner.
- Just make a wrong move, and I kill-kill you.
With the key, he unfastened the padlock that encircled the Feral Skaven's feet, slackened the chain, slipped it into his own belt, and relocked the padlock on Larn's ankles. Finally, he slipped the key into the sleeve of his shirt.
- This time, I'll let you sleep outside. But I warn you: try to touch this key, try to cheat-cheat me, show any sign of the slightest rebellion, and immediately, I crush you in two! Got-got it?
- I'll be nice-nice! Promised-sworn!
- Good.
Sigmund gave some more dried meat to his prisoner.
- It's a pity-pity that Feral Skaven are so dirty! You stink like a couple of squigs!
- Cage too small! protested Larn in a limply way.
The Black Skaven grumbled. The dark grey Skaven raised his muzzle.
- I already saw the sky at night. More reassuring-sure than when this huge golden ball dazzles everything.
- And yet, this ball is very useful. It warms us when it's cold outside, and grows our crops. So many things that don't exist in your stinking burrow.
- Yes-yes, but... pretty little sparks in the sky. I like. And above all... the warpstone moon!
- Are you talking about Morrslieb? For us, it brings misfortune.
- I know-know. Lucky charm for us. But it didn't bring me fortune when I...
Larn didn't dare finish his sentence. Sigmund took charge of it.
- When you tried to bleed my father.
- Should not have, I'm sorry! Dalwos of Clan Skab said that men-things only think of killing us, or making us their slaves.
- Do I look like a slave?
- No-no, benevolent master!
- Don't call me "master", Larn. I am not your master. I killed the last slave who called me like that.
- Oh…
Larn lowered his head.
- Blasphemous One more generous-clement than I thought-feared. Maybe not so evil?
- You saw the Skaven of my own, Larn. I told you, we are free-happy. We live in peace.
- Never-ever arguments?
- Um... from time to time, yes. But no internal war. Murder is forbidden, theft is forbidden, and yet we live well.
- Ah... I really could have been... like you? If I had been abducted at the nursery?
Sigmund felt his face wrinkle in spite.
- I would have liked to save all the little pups, Larn, but it wasn't possible. There were too many of them in too many different burrows.
- What a pity.
The Feral Skaven gave a bitter sigh. His guardian couldn't contain his own empathy. An idea suddenly appeared in a corner of his mind.
- You know what, Larn? If we succeed in catching your comrades, and you avoid us an invasion attempt...
- Yes, oh sublime-grandiose figure of authority?
The Black Skaven hesitated. He was about to make a commitment that no one but himself would approve, for sure. He decided to assume.
- I'll ask... you to live among us?
The Feral Skaven became stun.
- What... me... at your home?
- Yes, you at our home. If you show us that you want to change your life, if you help us fight against the Feral Skaven, you could become one of ours.
Sigmund had a pang in his heart as he saw a small tear sliding on the dark grey Skaven's hairy cheekbone.
- If I behave... quiet-wise, will I... become like you?
- I'm a man of his word, Larn. If you prove that you can be a citizen-citizen of Vereinbarung, I'll ask the Prince to pardon you. Good night.
- Good night... kind Master Steiner!
Sigmund waited, and when he saw that Larn was sleeping peacefully, decided to do the same.
The Black Skaven woke up, and narrowed his eyes. The sun, already high in the sky, warmed the fur of the skull. He straightened up, yawned loudly and stretched.
- Good, come on, Larn! On the road again. I hope for you that...
Suddenly, Sigmund's heart stopped dead.
The chains and padlocks lied on the ground at the foot of the tree. And Larn had vanished.
He looked from all sides, more and more feverishly. Not a trace of the Feral Skaven.
- No… no, no, no! NO!
He yelped again with anger and disbelief. How could Larn have freed himself from his handcuffs? Even out of his box, he had always been securely fastened from head to toe, so he had not been able to steal the key, which was anyway still attached to his wrist. He went to the metal bracelets on the grass, and noticed something stuck in the lock. It was a nail. A long nail.
Sigmund leaned over to examine the small, pointed object.
It's probably with this thing that Larn picked the handcuffs. But where did he get it from? We searched him before we left, and he was not wearing anything on him! This nail could not be at the foot of this tree?
It was then that the large Black Skaven remembered another story of his father concerning the Eshin Clan. He had once explained that it was customary for a Clan Eshin Gutter Runner to always have a small picking tool on him, even to keep it sunk somewhere in his own flesh, concealed under a thicker tuft of hair, or between the rings of his tail.
He had it on him from the beginning. He waited for the right moment to use it!
That was, the moment when, having released his defences, the huge Black Skaven finally took him in sympathy, and allowed him to rest in a more comfortable position... and in which he was not locked in triple turn. He just had to wait. Once his guardian asleep, Larn had removed the nail from its hiding place, undoubtedly under his skin, judging by the visible traces of blood along its length, then had picked the handcuffs, and disappeared without a sound.
Sigmund had been searching during a whole hour for the slightest track to the eye or to the nostril. Nothing. Larn had definitively escaped him.
The Black Skaven raised his fists to the sky, and roared:
- You ungrateful piece of shit! You filthy bastard! Damn you, Larn! May Sigmar's Hammer smash your little liar face!
Completely disappointed, the Black Skaven lowered his head, and had a stomach ache as he thought about the logical sequence. He sighed deeply, climbed back on the wagon, and turned back to Steinerburg.