- The gods have mercy!
Psody didn't want to say anything, he didn't want to risk invoking the only deity he believed in, in whose name the sad spectacle before him had been orchestrated. Indeed, for the first time, the White Skaven saw with his own eyes the decay inflicted on Nichetti Estate by the unknown Grey Seer, the one who commanded Blokfiste. The Master Mage, his younger son and the Estalian ambassador were all three side by side, facing a terrible picture. It was on the verge of the indescribable. The whole landscape seemed to emerge from a nightmare made by the most soaked of drunkards the day after a night spent drinking Dwarf beer.
The central square of the estate was invaded by moisture, a veritable carpet of wild grass, whose colour of which resembled that of the floor of a sordid inn after an orgy. Plants had grown, but they were certainly not natural, in any way; an ivy with hard, sharp charcoal-coloured leaves climbed over the buildings. Berries sparkled with a burst of emerald. The ground itself seemed to be covered with a sort of shiny, sticky layer of jelly.
There was no bird song. Under the effect of this vegetation, no animal had remained in the perimeter. And yet, there was a whole concert of noises all more disturbing to each other: cracking wood, rattling, small gas eruptions, hissing and other rustling.
Worst of all, a sort of greenish mist hung over the whole village. A moving mist, almost alive.
- If I could hear Taal and Rhya talking to us, I'm sure they would make sailors blush!
- I agree with you, it's terrible! Even a battalion of Plague Monks defecating wouldn't emit such an odour-horror!
Clarin looked more worried.
- Things got worse, I'm afraid. Not on the surface, but in intensity. I wonder…
The Estalian paused, and sniffed. An aroma he couldn't recognize had just passed through his nostrils. It was neither ashes nor spoiled food.
- Don't you smell anything, Master Mage?
- Don't get any closer, muttered the White Skaven, raising his hand. I smell. I even smell very well. And I know exactly-perfectly what it is.
The White Skaven swivelled towards Clarin. Her pink eyes blinked nervously.
- The flowers are loaded with warpstone particles, it is their pollen!
Clarin felt his face cover with sweat.
- You mean we're breathing poison?
- Back-back, quickly!
The three men hurried away from the square. A few minutes later, they joined the company.
Six soldiers were standing near a cart pulled by two oxen. Okapia, Sigmund's mare, was quietly waiting a few yards away, the reins tied to a lone tree. All the equipment was gathered on the vehicle: boxes of incense, apothecary's toolbox, a dozen large terracotta jars, a large, rough canvas bag, and a wooden tub.
The two Skaven had met the Estalian at the border of Sueño. They had travelled to Nichetti Estate, stopping regularly at the inns. Each evening, Psody had taken care to ensure that the terracotta jars were kept warm.
On the way, luckily, they hadn't met any other Feral Skaven. Clarin had explained to them why: worried that the Under-Empire would land in his principality, his Excellency Roderigo Calderon had doubled the number of patrols around the area. Besides, the two ratmen could see in the distance regiments of horsemen come and go around the perimeter. Sigmund couldn't help admiring the grace of the horses and the ease of their masters. The emissary recalled how famous the Estalian cavalry was.
The White Skaven approached the cart.
- I shall explain-explain what I'm going to do.
- If you allow me, I will translate as you go.
Sigmund raised a surprised eyebrow.
- Your men can't speak reikspiel?
- Not those. If you have something to tell me, they will only understand if I do the translation.
- That's a surprise, why didn't you tell us?
- I didn't consider it necessary, Master Sigmund.
- You mean we made the trip here with soldiers without knowing that...
- Siggy, that's enough! cut the White Skaven. Master Clarin is an ally, not a trickster who wants to double-cross us!
The great Black Skaven looked down.
- Right, I'll resume.
- Please, Master Prospero.
And the Jade Mage went on to explain what he would do, pausing at the end of each sentence to allow the ambassador to repeat his instructions in Estonian.
- First, the most urgent: we now know the air is full of warpstone, and prolonged exposure could damage-corrupt your lungs. Fortunately, we had foreseen this vicissitude.
And he opened the rough canvas bag, which contained several heavy and shiny metallic objects.
- That is why I wanted to know the exact number of people to accompany us in my letter-missive.
The Master Mage distributed protective masks. Every Human covered his face with. Sigmund wore a model designed for Skaven heads.
- I bet it's another invention of your son!
- You can! You have to get used to their weight, and it's a bit difficult to breathe with, but at least you'll be protected from warpstone particles!
- I really should meet this little genius!
- Unfortunately, you can only when he wants. It is impossible-unthinkable to force him to meet someone.
- What a pity!
- The last time we tried to, he had a nervous breakdown and attempted to bite our guest! Since then, we have not taken any risk-risk.
Hearing his father's words, Sigmund added nothing, but felt irritated. He was about to protest, asking the White Skaven to stop telling the Estalian such personal stories, but he didn't do anything about it. He didn't want to risk seeing the Mage Master refer to the epilogue in Larn's life.
Clarin observed:
- What about you, Master Prospero, don't you take one?
- I'll have to use another accessory you see in a minute-minute. Plus, I lived four years in a burrow where the laboratory was more heavily loaded with warpstone dust than here. Even though it's been a long time my body is empty of any pound of warpstone, I think I can resist it more than you. Anyway, you'll see the ritual to quickly protect-protect me much more effectively. Siggy? Can you put the equipment near where this Grey Seer spilled his mixture-mixture?
- Right now, Father.
- Gentlemen, please-please give me a minute, I need to put me in condition.
- Do it.
The Black Skaven pulled on the reins. The oxen dragging the cart became nervous, and the young ratman had to pull harder and raise his voice to force them to obey. Meanwhile, Psody sat on the floor, trying not to pay attention to the sticky moisture under his buttocks. He closed his eyes, put his hands on the floor, and concentrated.
The Druid who had taught him magic had insisted: Ghyran was not a wind domesticated by clever calculations like those of the Golden Wind or the Celestial Wind. No, it was something much more instinctive, more visceral. Whoever wanted to practice Jade Magic should not control the magic wind, but vibrate in harmony with it. In that it was not that different from Warp Magic, except that Warp Magic corrupted, enslaved and destroyed life. Ghyran favoured it. "You have to feel Nature, Prospero", had said the professor. "Amber Mages rely on their instincts, and do everything to dominate Ghur, the Wind of the Beast. You've shown yourself to be a Druid, I guess your experience with the Slann artefact has a lot to do with it. So, you shouldn't be too confused by my words, you should be able to find this feeling of apprehending magic thanks to your guts. But don't be as infuriated with rage as an Amber Mage or a Grey Seer. Ghyran is your friend, not your slave. Listen to Nature, feel it, and communication will only be better."
This is precisely what the White Skaven was about to do. Feel Nature. And Nature was violently protesting. This stain was not only an insult to its harmony, but also a pain, as sharp as an acid burn. The pain of the earth was almost palpable. It brought back a distant, very distant memory...
He had barely entered adulthood for the Skaven community of Brissuc, his native land. To satisfy his master and obtain his title of Grey Seer, he had to pass a test: kill a Dryad. He had gone to a glade not far from the village named Niklasweiler, with Chitik and Diassyon, his two favourite brothers. The Clan Skryre's brown Skaven had used a warpfire thrower, and all the clearing had ended up consumed by the greenish fire. At the time, he had been very proud of himself, and the sniggers of the three brothers had long resounded in the middle of the forest. But over the years and the changing environment... this "feat" had become a source of remorse and shame.
Something tickled his muzzle. No doubt, it was a little tear. In truth, this tragic story was a stain on his own heart, he had to clean it. One day or another, he would.
May the Horned Rat witness me, little woods fairy: as soon as I have the occasion-possibility, I come back to heal your glade, so that another can settle there!
He then felt better. He had just created a link with Ghyran's stream. Now he could act.
He opened his eyes, stood quietly, and spoke to the company again.
- Well, gentlemen, I'm going to perform a complex-delicate ritual. It will make noise, maybe smoke and light. I have never done this ritual before. Normally, only good things should come out of it.
- Is there a risk this ritual to fail? asked Clarin.
Psody sighted.
- Nothing is ever perfect, apart from the acts of the gods themselves, Master Clarin. But if that can reassure you, the only risk is that nothing will happen. No chance of causing a rain of fire or bringing in a demon, if that's what you're thinking about.
- I have already seen mages fail in their formulas, and cause disasters.
- The rituals are a little different from conventional magic. Because very specific ingredients and conditions are used, the chances of unwanted side effects are minimal. It's like you're worried about an explosion if I'm wrong in the doses or baking to make a cake.
- Certainly, but in this example, there is the oven? The oven can break under the effect of heat, if it has a design defect? A cleansing ritual could go wrong and burn everything around, right?
- I do not guarantee an immediate success and without the slightest risk, but I suggest you trust -trust me.
Clarin smiled a little.
- You wouldn't be there without that trust, Master Mage. But what is doing your son?
Sigmund was filling the wooden tub with water from the jars.
- He's finishing prepare one of the essential elements for the ritual.
The Black Skaven put the last jar back on the cart, took out a small leather package which he placed next to the tub, and returned quietly to the group.
- Everything's ready, Father.
- Perfect.
The Mage Master stood in front of the guards and Clarin, so as to have the field in front of him. Sigmund was by his side.
- I will now proceed to a purge enchantment. These places have been infected by the rotting-corruption of the Feral Skaven, it will have to be dissolved. Sigmund?
The Black Skaven took a wrought box out of his backpack and handed it to his father. The White Skaven picked out a curious object. Clarin opened wide, impressed eyes when he saw a massive, round-shaped gold mask, with intricate carvings over its entire surface.
- Gosh!
- I can tell you, apart from my family, this is my most precious treasure. It comes from Lustria.
- Did you go to Lustria?
- Once. But I won't tell you more today. Let's wait until the bonds of trust are more solid-firm. The blessing of my father, for example?
- I understand.
Clarin knew the reputation of the great continent beyond the sea, and had heard terrible stories about his fearsome natives. The Master Mage continued:
- First, I burn incense in the perimeter where the cauldron has been overturned-emptied, to repel warpstone mists. After, I'm going to drink a potion that will imbibe me with life magic. Then, I'll capture the energy of the sun to concentrate it in this golden mask. And finally, I'll have to imbue the earth with the combined forces of the potion, the sun and the mask with a wave of concentrated energy that will react with incense. So the soil should be purged of this infection.
- Are you going to serve as a magic channel?
- Exactly. It will be a new-new experience for me, Master Clarin!
- And... isn't this operation risky for you? Couldn't such a flow of energy flowing through your body consume you?
The White Skaven smiled slightly.
- If I was an old-old man almost thirty years old, maybe my heart wouldn't bear it. But normally everything will be fine for me.
Clarin regarded Psody with respect.
- Be sure Prince Calderon will appreciate your gesture at its true value.
- I'm sure of it. I'll do my best to succeed. Now, I ask you to stay turned in this direction. You don't have to risk being blinded by the light of energy. The protection of the masks could be insufficient.
- Everything will be fine, are you sure?
- I am.
- So, good luck, Master Prospero.
Psody took a few steps toward the tub, but turned around one last time.
- Siggy? Come over here!
Sigmund joined him in small strides. The White Skaven placed a loving hand on his arm, and spoke to him in his native language.
- Don't worry about me, my little boy-boy. Everything will be fine, and we're doing this for a good cause.
Sigmund didn't like hearing Queekish so much, but he knew how to practice it when necessary. For the sake of discretion, therefore, he replied in the same language:
- I know-know.
- I'm just asking you to keep an eye on me, just in case. You can watch. I never did this ritual. Normally, nothing dangerous for anyone, but if you ever see that I don't move when it's over, you know what you have to do.
Sigmund replied with a nod. His father also says:
- If ever one of these Humans, any of them, dares to turn his head, slap him!
New nod. Psody smirked, and resumed his way to the bucket, while his son returned to his seat in front of the citizens of Sueño, who had been a little disturbed when they heard the language of the Feral Skaven.
- What did he tell you? asked Clarin hesitantly.
- He asked me to watch over you, in case of something went wrong. Just keep facing me, and everything will be fine.
Clarin repeated Sigmund's words in his language. The soldiers just nodded slightly.
Sigmund saw in the distance the little white silhouette of his father who was setting small censers in a circle around the cauldron still overturned on the ground. He thus placed ten. Then he took out his tinder lighter and lit them one after the other.
The great Black Skaven focused his gaze on the Estalian emissary.
- Master Clarin, I have something to tell you that concerns only you and me.
- You're arousing my curiosity, young man. Be my guest!
Sigmund was genuinely embarrassed. It didn't happen often when he talked to strangers, but he thought what he was trying to say.
- Hum, I... well, my father made it clear to me that I hadn't an exemplary conduct before you.
- What are you talking about, my friend?
- My anger, my sadness, my excesses... especially with alcohol.
- What? Oh, come on, it has been forgotten for a long time! Listen, you risked your life to save my fellow citizens when you had neither received the order nor the formal obligation!
- A Prince's grandson cannot afford everything.
- No, probably not, but a passionate young man who sees such horrors and who nevertheless manages not to fall into madness... no wonder that he happens to... get a little carried away.
- Didn't my family tell you anything else?
- Hmm... not especially.
- Good. Anyway, I want to apologize if I could have seemed unworthy of my rank.
- The valiant warrior who saved a village of my Prince on a whim has no apology to do to me for a simple misconduct.
Sigmund thanked the gods inwardly. Apparently, his family had said nothing to the envoy about the Eshin assassin. His eye caught a gesture from the White Skaven.
- Ah, watch out, my father is waving me. The most decisive moment of the ritual is coming. Remember, look at me, and don't look back, no matter what.
Clarin repeated the instruction in Estalian.
Good. When you have to go-go, you have to go-go!
He had never done this kind of ritual, even less in front of witnesses. He had spent the entire time preparing for this event. He thought back to his youth in the Brissuc tunnels. Even then, what he was about to do would have been very embarrassing for him, perhaps more so. His mind then slid over the faces of his family members.
I'm doing this for them, and it's worth it!
Determined to sacrifice his self-esteem in the name of peace between the kingdoms, the White Skaven inspired deeply. Then he removed his clothes one by one, folded them carefully and placed them near the tub of hot water, while humming a small prayer. He knew that the Horned Rat would no doubt be angry to see a White Skaven destroy the work of the Pestilens, so he asked him to be forgiving.
I am faithful to you, oh Horned Rat, but I love my family-family too much to let someone soil-dirty my adopted country!
When he found himself naked, he looked at himself from head to toe, then glanced away. Neither her son, nor Clarin, nor any other Human had moved. So he took the small bottle of potion that had remained in his satchel. There was in the flask a good third of a litre of the mixture he had spent hours concocting with Magister Steadyhand and Sister Judy before adding the last ingredients provided by Clarin. He swallowed it all in a few sips. The potion tasted sweet, there was a good dose of honey. Then he gently grabbed Cuelepok's mask, and wore it. Then he lay carefully on his back, his muzzle turned towards the sun, and did not move anymore.
- Is everything all right, Master Sigmund?
- Don't worry, Master Clarin.
And now, the most delicate moment...
Jade Magic was something you had to feel. Not see, not calculate, but fully feel. It was not necessary to beat around the bush: the magic potion circulated in his stomach, and thanks to the magic of Ghyran, penetrated in his organism much more quickly than ordinary food. Already, bubbles were tickling his intestines, and his face tightened under the effect of nervous tics.
Above all, for what he had to do, he had a certain feeling to feel, in particular.
To fertilize… what a joke-joke!
No, he shouldn't disperse, but stay focused. Under his mask, he closed his eyes. Pictures jostled in his head, as heat circulated through his abdomen. Then he felt a tingling in his lower abdomen. Yes, he was on the right path. So he thinks more. He remembered the very first time he had felt this emotion, in a dark cave in Niklasweiler, again. Then he saw breeders, large, stretched out all their length on straw mattresses, all naked and ready to receive him. But after his wanderings during the Harvests, his point of view had changed. They were no longer objects of desire, but unhappy creatures which inspired him only with pity.
He had felt a violent desire for the creatures of the sorcerer of Chaos Aescos Karkadourian, they had bewitched him thanks to their evil charms. When he ran to them, he wanted more than anything to die between their claws, because this ecstasy would have been really worth it. Except for one woman, the one who saved him from this trap.
My love…
Heike was there, always more beautiful, always softer, always more feminine… Even when some Skaven girls had reached adulthood, even if some of them were rather cute, none managed to exceed the grace and the generosity of his partner.
And with his return after the last Harvest, they had lost time. And Heike seemed eager to make up for this lost time. Oh yes, for the past few weeks, she had been radiant with energy, and almost insatiable when the door to their bedroom was closed.
The thoughts quickened, and the feeling grew stronger. Psody realized the mask was warm, the skin on his face was starting to burn, like the time he had been outside too long one day the previous summer. He creaked, feeling the veins in his crotch painfully swollen with blood. Again, he concentrated, and allowed himself to spill a hundred thoughts all more erotic to each other in his mind.
His heart was pounding. Suddenly his nervous system ignited. He felt the desire to flow through his basin, like a torrent of bubbling sap ready to overflow. He turned suddenly, and found himself lying on his stomach. So he put his hands firmly on the ground, pushed hard, took a deep breath, and reared up, his head towards the heavens. His buttocks tightened, his thighs tensed, and finally the enjoyment permeated the corrupted earth through frank pushes of kidneys, while he moaned with all his strength, transported by pleasure. Fortunately, Humans didn't have the opportunity to hear him shout, because the mask radiated a golden glow, in an electric crackle. Psody remained in this state for long seconds, then everything stopped.
There was no more light, no more sound. The White Skaven, still leaning on his palms, remained dazed for a moment longer, then his head fell to the ground. He barely felt the compression of the mask on his face.
Despite the pounding of blood in his temples which still deafened his ears, he heard his son's voice.
- Father!
Panic-stricken, the Black Skaven ran as fast as he could towards the Master Mage. Several times he slipped, and even sprawled across the yellowish grass. He didn't care, and continued on his way to the White Skaven. But when there were only a few more steps to take, Sigmund saw Psody, still lying on his stomach, raising his hand, and nothing else.
- It's all right, Siggy. I'm fine.
His arm fell limply on the grass. He seemed out of breath, unable to move, but he was still alive. Besides, he spoke in a tone that mixed exhaustion with... a blissful ecstasy.
- You need help?
- No it'll be fine. Go back to reassure them, and give me ten minutes.
- As you wish.
Sigmund obeyed, and obediently returned to the Estalians. They still hadn't moved.
- So, Master Sigmund?
- My father is fine. Still, he needs calm, in order to be able to favour the transmission of flows in the earth. Again, there could be bright sounds and lightning. Above all, don't turn around until he tells us it's over.
- Good. Will there be for a long time?
- Ten minutes. In the meantime, look ahead, and at your feet.
Clarin translated, and the Estalians looked around without looking back. There were some surprise exclamations.
- Did you see that, Master Sigmund?
- I did.
- Unbelievable!
- Isn't it?
Indeed, the mist had completely dissipated. But above all, the ground itself was beginning to transform. The most yellowed blades of grass changed colour and took on a more natural shade. The brown foam dissolved, several clouds of white smoke rose here and there.
- This is a miracle!
- No, Master Clarin, this is Ghyran.
Psody was finally able to get up after the third try. His head was still spinning. He removed his mask with a trembling hand. The gold was hot between his fingers, almost burning. He looked down and gave a nervous chuckle. After such an experience, his fur was soaked. He then decided to go to the final stage of the ritual. He picked up the small package left by Sigmund, took out a soap, entered the tub of hot water, and rubbed vigorously his body.
By the Horned Rat, what an experience! So, every cloud has a silver lining!
- Come in!
The door to the Prince's office opened on Bianka Steiner.
- Ah, finally, I can see you, darling. I swear, the complaints multiply, with this story of Larn. The citizens are going crazy, the stories of argument and vandalism never stop, so much so I hadn't a minute to myself! I hope the wait didn't seem too long to you?
On the afternoon of the departure of her father and brother, Bianka rushed to her grandfather's office to express her concern. She had shown him the triangle of the Horned Rat carved on the headboard. The Prince immediately made arrangements. He had replaced the bed, doubled the guard of the property by choosing only among the best soldiers, and instructed the temple of Verena to investigate this matter. Samuel Heifetz was commissioned for the investigation. As a former servant of the princely family, he knew the layout of the place very well. Unfortunately, he had found nothing convincing.
- Let's go to the garden, I need to get some fresh air.
- I'm behind you, Opa.
A few minutes later, the two Steiners were at the back of the property. The servants were coming and going. There was a certain nervousness in the atmosphere.
- All of this is very upsetting. I still don't know what may have happened. At least your little sister appreciates her new bed. A "bed for grown up".
- All of them good for nothing! exclaimed the girl. The priests of Verena, the guards... Come on, is it so hard to protect the most inaccessible place in the whole city?
She had shouted the last words. Several staff members, Humans and Skaven, jumped.
- Calm down, Bianka, please! They don't deserve this. Watch your words! These people do everything to do the job for the best, so show them more respect.
- Yes, Opa, I... I'm sorry.
The ratgirl clenched her fists. Anger was a way for her to express her fear, and her grandfather knew it. But he had no intention of being more lenient with her than with her twin brother.
- Your fear is legitimate, Bianka, we are faced with a complicated situation. Figure out all the members of the crew are as afraid as you are. Any of them could face the same doom as Tenenbaum's. But if we want to solve this problem, we have to keep calm.
The Prince then heard loud voices near the building reserved for the servants. A Skaven was berating a Human. She walked away, throwing a string of insults at him.
- Well, speaking of that...
Without hesitation, Steiner headed for the Skaven.
- Well, Ulli, what's going on?
- This woman is really impossible! Not only does she not consider the work seriously, but she also lowers herself to gossip! Enough is enough, I asked her to leave!
- It doesn't seem upset her much...
- Inevitably, she says far from here, "her skin will remain intact"!
- Fear is contagious.
- And it prevents us from progressing! Certainly, your Highness, I am struggling to find a replacement for Krista.
- Krista?
- Yes, your laundress! I refuse to hire the first commoner for your Majesty! I need the best! I trusted my brother-in-law who recommended this one, but indeed... He will hear me, for sure!
- What happened to this Krista? Has she taken leave of us?
- What? Your Majesty is not aware?
Prince Steiner felt a little itch tickle his skin.
- Aware of what?
- Well, she had an accident a few days ago, visiting her mother. She was found on the stairs, her neck broken.
- Oh... And what about her mother?
- Dead in her bed, the unhappy thing was a sick old woman, and Krista used to come visit her every day to take care of her. The shock must have killed her.
Bianka, who had heard the beginning of the conversation, approached and asked:
- And... had this family other problems?
- In fact, Fräulein Bianka, when the father died, he left heavy debts to Krista's mother. The poor girl worked twice as hard to send money, but she could barely make ends meet. The less sad thing is the suffering has stopped for good.
- I see. You may dismiss, Ulli. Find me another laundress, and offer a salary one and a half times higher than Krista's, that should stimulate the candidacies.
- At your command, your Highness.
Ulli bowed respectfully, and hurried back to the building where the laundry and his office were located.
Steiner and Bianka looked at each other, each saw the same thing in the other's eyes.
- Opa, I think we've found our traitor.
- I share this impression with you, my angel. Who was better placed to steal something with the smell of your father on? But I don't think she was the main culprit.
- What do you mean?
- Feral Skaven regularly use Humans, Bianka. They primarily target people who are in positions of power. In my opinion, they would never have thought of contacting this poor woman; trust a female, can you imagine that? A female which, what is more, has no status in the dominant class. No, they probably lured someone unhappy with his or her fate, who in turn was able to get help from Krista, a poor servant girl who was in dire straits because of numerous debts, before getting rid of her. A magistrate, one of the main servants of the castle, an army officer, perhaps? Anyway, I'm pretty sure the real traitor is still among us.
- You have an idea?
- Hmm ... Maybe, but I can't say anything yet. I refuse to accuse anyone without solid evidence. If I was wrong, not only would it discredit me, but it would also allow the real traitor to get out of it. We'll have to be extremely careful. Maybe I should talk to Steadyhand about it?
The ratgirl's heart beat faster as she hear this name.
- Opa, I doubt it's a good idea.
- You don't trust him?
- No. I don't know why, but something tells me he's not playing fair with us.
- And what is this "something"?
- His confidence which borders on insolence, his superior airs, his innocent little smiles... I can imagine him making eyes at a laundress to bribe her better, before betraying her!
- Oh, he has a bit whimsical personality, for sure, but that doesn't make him a suspect.
- Who threatened Isolde? Maybe me?
- This has nothing to do with! Come on, Bianka, you're talking about your mother's godfather! I assure you that he is above all suspicion!
- And maybe he' counting on your trust, Opa. Many tragedies are the product of a betrayal by someone "above all suspicion"!
The Prince felt a touch of bitterness tickling his heart.
- You're speaking so because you don't know him as much as I know him, darling.
- Precisely, I am safe from a positive image which can be distorted. I don't want to know this individual better, anyway!
- He risked his life several times to allow your mother to live.
- I do not deny it. But he may have changed? What if someone had promised him something in exchange for Father's head? The Council of Thirteen, for example? They could provide him with a mountain of warpstone, for his experiments!
- To appeal to an Elf, they would have to be desperate. They are too afraid of the Elves to deal with them. Even the Dark Elves arouse their fears.
- Well, let's admit, Feral Skaven are not our only enemies! What if another Principality tries to create issues?
Steiner raised his hand.
- Well, if that can reassure you, for the moment, I won't tell him anything. But I still urge you to be careful. Bianka, you tend to see evil everywhere, including the most modest of peasants like Gustavus Finston. Distrust can be a good defense, but if you let it veil your eyes too much, it can blind you.
- I hope you're right, Opa.
- Me too, sincerely. Let us remain vigilant, but do not act like the people in our charge; let's keep a cool head.
- I'm going back to Verena temple, it will make me think of something else.
- We'll see you later, at supper.
The ratgirl took a few steps to move away, but she quickly returned to her grandfather, and threw herself into his arms. She allowed herself to shed a few tears on his shoulder.
- Be strong, my little angel. I promise no one will hurt my family as long as I live. And I intend to live a long time still! The day Morr picks me up, it won't be because of a Feral Skaven!
- I love you, Opa.
Finally, Bianka decided to go back to work.