Daughters and Sons of the Horned Rat,
In France, confinement ended on Monday, the 11th May. Inevitably, the rhythm of publication will resume a more normal pace. But don't worry, the inspiration is still there, and the story will go on.
I wish the Pestilens did not torment you too much, and I thank you for your loyalty.
I would also like to tell you about a particular artist who displays his works on several sites, including DeviantArt: Ziegelzeig. I spotted Ziegelzeig thanks to his many drawings depicting the characters of Zootopia. I contacted him a month ago to offer him a commission, which he sent me. The result seemed simply magnificent. You can find out on the DeviantArt ChildrenOfPsody page.
I decided to ask Ziegelzeig for another drawing on the same subject: one of the members of the Steiner family. Except you will choose the character you want to see drawn! So, by September, I will make a new order to Ziegelzeig, and I invite you to tell me in your next review which character you would like to see take shape thanks to this talented artist. Choose, and express yourself!
Letter from Sister Carolina Kuhlmann, priestess of the Shallya Temple of Wüstengrenze, to Sister Judy Hoffnung, priestess of the Shallya Temple of Steinerburg, written on the ninth Sommerzeit of the year two thousand five hundred and thirty of the Imperial Calendar.
My dear benefactor,
I am pleased to announce that the Klapperschlänge rebuilding is almost complete. With the return of good weather, the terrain became more stable, and the priestesses of Shallya had fewer serious accidents to manage. Alas, however, we had to face the death of one of the workers. Master Otto Fröbe, one of Master Gottwald's assistants, found himself crashed under a beam that broke down. Fortunately, he only suffered for a few minutes. Morr have mercy of his soul.
We had to bury him there, Shallya forgive me, he was in too bad shape to be moved, even less taken back to his family. As I was the only priestess on the site – the three sisters who accompanied me today are still initiated – the sad task of carrying out the funeral ceremony fell to me.
The whole team arrived from Wüstengrenze to say farewell to Master Fröbe. I thank the Goddess of Compassion for giving me the words that were necessary at this difficult time, and I am pleased to have had by my side warm people who supported me, and therefore allowed to lead this ceremony to its end. It was my first time, I know it won't be the last, I just hope I won't have to repeat this experience too often.
On the way back, I rode alongside Kristofferson, and also Lady Franzseska Gottlieb. I was thus able to know the Steward of His Highness Prince Ludwig the First better. Formerly married to Lord Wilhelm Gottlieb, she lost her husband because of the Feral Skaven. When I told her that I was one of the orphans of Nuln, she said "ha! This gives us at least two things in common!" I asked her what could be the second thing, the first being the influence of the Skaven on our experience, she replied: "your opinions, Sister Carolina. Before coming here, Sister Judy told me a few words about you. You want a society where men and women have the same rights and the same importance. It's an idea that appeals to me." "You are no doubt well placed to approve of it, you, a woman in your position," I allowed myself to answer. "Think again, my child," she replied. "I have known lord wives among the relationships of my late husband who were very happy to limit themselves to the role of "heir givers". In fact, they believed that wanting to do more was indecency, even anarchism." I sighed. I didn't think people of high society, having generally received more elaborate educ…
Sister Carolina looked up. Something had just made her start. A disturbing, distant noise that she had never heard.
In fact, she already had.
A reminiscence froze her heart. This noise was the characteristic sound of a horn, the kind of horn used to sound the alarm. The sound she had heard amid the deafening roar of all the bells of Nuln the tragic night when her existence had definitely taken another direction.
She put down the feather, got up from her desk and left her room. While crossing the corridor of the small temple of Shallya, she adjusted her sleeves to face the cool of the evening. She hadn't yet taken care of getting ready for the night, and was still wearing her clean coat and sandals.
Of course, it really matters! she thought nervously when she saw the soldiers running between the buildings as she left the place of worship. She glanced quickly towards the ramparts, a few hundred yards from her. On the other side of the stone wall, in a precise direction, she distinguished the orange glow emitted by flames. Frightened by the sound of her own breath become panting, she remained tense on the spot, not knowing if she had to go to see where this light came from or if she would rush to take refuge in the shelter of the walls of her temple. The curiosity became stronger, she walked briskly towards the staircase which led to the walkway.
Once on the rampart, she spotted a small group, and quickly recognized Kristofferson, Pol Demmler, Walter Klingmann, Captain Müller and Lady Franzseska Gottlieb. All five seemed busy to say the least. The girl turned her head outside and was struck by a nightmare vision.
At the foot of the plateau on which the city was built, there was a huge gathering from which emerged numerous grunts, squeaks and other guttural cries. Several rudimentary tents had been erected here and there. Numerous campfires and torches lit the scene, and intermittently Carolina distinguished heavy coarse silhouettes, humanoid for some, much more porcine for others. From time to time, a gasp sounded louder, it vaguely evoked a few words difficult to understand that vaguely resembled reikspiel without being. And sometimes the priestess's eye caught the reflections of various pieces of iron above the flames.
- Carolina!
The young woman started. Kristofferson faced her, he looked in panic.
- Bend down!
He put his hand on her shoulder and forced her to kneel with him.
- They haven't attacked yet, but we're expecting them to.
- They're Orcs, aren't they?
- They are, and this time, they're at least ten times more numerous they were at Klapperschlänge!
The two young men joined the small group, trying to hide behind the battlements. The tall blonde woman winced as she saw Carolina.
- You should have stayed in the temple, my Sister.
- I had to know, my Lady!
- Well, now you know! However, I don't know how we're going to get out of there!
- Are we surrounded?
- No, they are only here, but given the configuration of the place, they will quickly spot anyone who would come in or go out, and who would be a few yards away!
- All the more so, because of the rock formations, it is not possible to descend from this hill other than by the main road! added Müller.
- Let's be honest, captain: do we have the slightest chance in case of direct combat?
The old captain looked sorry.
- I'm afraid not, my Lady. We could last a few days if they just stayed there, but knowing the Orcs, once they are ready, they will all charge at the same time!
- Pol, do you see something?
The fat dark Skaven had put his harquebus on the edge of the wall. He was watching the camp carefully.
- Hmm... They seem to be settling down more than being on the warpath, Kit!
- I don't like that, Walter mumbled.
- Why then, Master Klingmann? asked Carolina. They are going to besiege us, what is surprising?
- It is not so much in their habits, Müller answered. Unlike the Feral Skaven or the Chaos legions, the Orcs have absolutely no more developed strategy than "we pass and we break everything".
- Maybe they're experimenting a new method?
- In this case, my child, you will excuse me for not being overjoyed at the thought of being the subject of this experience!
Lady Franzseska glanced over and stayed watching the camp.
- There's something new. Someone is coming!
The two Humans and the three Skaven gathered around the stewardess, and all saw the same thing: a gigantic silhouette, taller than ten feet, and at least half as wide, was approaching with heavy steps. Its body was completely covered by a heavy, dark armour, made up with disparate pieces of metal. This Orc wielded an axe almost as tall as a Human teenager. Its red eyes maliciously shone. It had huge lower canines almost as big as the tusks of one of the boars behind it.
It stood a few dozen yards from the wall, stood firmly on its two feet, raised a fist as big as a sharpening wheel, and bellowed in an excited voice:
- Yo, Men! You are all lost! You killed my wyvern and resisted my Boyz, but now we're all here, and you all die right here, right now!
Carolina curled up against the wall of the rampart, and trembled with her whole body. She hid her face in her hands, hardly repressing her terrified sobs.
- How awful! They're going to slaughter us all!
- Not while I'm in charge, retorted Lady Franzseska harshly. Come on, go back to the temple for shelter, your place is not here.
The young Human girl sniffed, nodded, and tried to get up.
- Do you want me to accompany you? asked Kristofferson's sweet voice.
- No, thank you, I'm going to make it, she replied.
She shook her head, carefully descended the stone staircase, and ran as fast as she could to the temple of Shallya.
The housekeeper hissed in annoyance.
- Nice girl, but she doesn't know at all times where her place is.
- That's why she's here, Lady Franzseska, Kristofferson replied.
- And... what do we do with him? asked Pol.
Lady Franzseska climbed the wall, and looked up at the giant Orc.
- Who are you, Greenskin?
- I am Targhân Sreefingerz, the greatest chief of all the Orcs who have ever existed! Gork and Mork want this city, I'll take it to give them! And I'll cut all its inhabitants into pieces! And I will throw the pieces to the Squigs! And I…
Targhân tirelessly continued his invective. Upset by the show, Lady Franzseska turned to Pol. The fat, dark grey Skaven watched the Orc chieftain, his eye glued to the scope of his harquebus.
- Demmler?
- Yes, my Lady?
- Do you have it in your scope?
- I perfectly do, my Lady.
- Shoot it down!
Without any hesitation, Pol pulled the trigger. The bullet ran straight towards Targhân's skull. But as it was only an inch away from hitting its target, it ricocheted in a crackle of sparks on something invisible.
Targhân sneered even louder.
- Ha! Typical Men! All cowards and frightened scoundrels! Come down, and fight like real warriors!
On the orders of the steward who dropped down the slot, Pol sheltered. He took the opportunity to reload his weapon. Walter Klingmann gritted his teeth in rage.
- How did it do that?
- It's magic. There must be a shaman somewhere in this crowd.
- So it must be eliminated! Pol, can you spot it?
- Easy to say that, Wally! Did you see how many there are? I guess it's not stupid, it's hiding behind!
Kristofferson sighed in resignation.
- Right, so there remains only one solution left: duel him.
- What? This is madness! Walter exclaimed.
- Wally, you know like me that it's the best thing to do! If someone beats their leader in front of them, they will all flee.
- Yeah, and what if their chief wins?
- They'll attack us, and we'll have to defend ourselves. But at least we'll have tried.
- Are you sure that even if we beat this rabid bear, they won't poke us with a sharp stick?
- It's not in their psychology. Without their leader, they no longer have any fighting spirit.
Baldur Gottwald then came in turn.
- What's going on, my Lady?
- Stay hidden, Gottwald! ordered Lady Franzseska. The Orcs are here, and one of us will have to beat their leader in single combat.
- By Sigmar's hammer! Do we know who will challenge this brute?
- Come on, Master Gottwald, it's obvious: I will.
Kristofferson had responded with such flippancy that Captain Müller remained breathless.
- My liege, with all respect due to your rank, I cannot let you do it! It's up to me to take this risk!
- Captain, you are a brave man, but face reality: you will not stand a minute facing him. You have experience, but the years that gave it to you have taken your vigour in return. You are no longer in a condition to face an Orc leader in top form. At the slightest blow, it will break you in half.
- So let me go! replied Walter. You know how to fight, but you are diminished with your broken hand!
- I can fight with the left one!
- What if the right one takes a bad strike and it breaks again? The pain may nail you to the ground! And I may be less agile than you, but I'm stronger, and I'm used to being heavily protected by my armour!
Walter looked in turn at Kristofferson, Lady Franzseska and Captain Müller.
- Trust me. I can defeat him.
- I believe you, soldier, replied the captain.
- All our hopes rest on you, my brother! said Pol gravely.
The steward shrugged.
- Take no unnecessary risk. This pile of shit is not worth it. And you don't play with shit, you trample on it.
- At your command, my Lady.
Walter climbed in turn on the rampart.
- Ho, Targhân Oneball! I'm not afraid of you! If you are a real Orc chieftain, then accept my challenge, and let's duel like real warriors!
The huge Orc looked up, and his horrible face crumpled under deep reflection. Walter's comrades were anxiously awaiting the answer. Finally, Targhân barked:
- I accept no challenge! You are too pathetic for me to smear my axe on you! Not the big rats! I don't fight big rats, I crush them!
- We also have Human warriors at your disposal! cried Baldur, ready to battle.
- I don't care! You are all shabby who don't know how to fight! Open the doors so all my Boyz kill you, or starve!
He started off with a throaty snicker, imitated immediately by the warriors behind him. Then he stepped back to the camp, and disappeared into the crowd of hilarious Orcs.
The main leaders of Wüstengrenze had entrenched themselves in the barracks. Harald Emmerich, the burgomaster, a big dark-skinned man with a small, well-trimmed moustache, was sweating by litres.
- So, that's it! This time, we are all ruined!
- Be a little more courageous, Emmerich, will you! ordered Lady Franzseska. For now, they are besieging us. They haven't tried anything yet.
- It is not normal, said Müller then.
The captain was completely distraught... and furious.
- I do not understand anything! A siege, a shaman who protects the chief, and the latter who refuses a duel… This is not the way Orcs use to act, normally!
- Did you fight a lot of them before, captain?
- No, Sir Demmler, but during my training, I was taught their tactics, and many soldiers with whom I patrolled confirmed these lessons to me when they told me about their own brawls with Orcs!
- Something I confirm to you, captain, said Franzseska. When I lived in Gottliebschloss, we had to repel the Greenskins a couple of times; they are not the type to let their prey starve. They do everything to kill everyone as quickly as possible. Even if they are besieging, they don't just cut the lines of communication and wait, they use catapults and trebuchets. They don't leave anything standing, they don't spare anyone, they are creatures that live only to destroy.
Emmerich groaned again.
- What do we do now? What do we do now?
The tall blond woman gave him a cold look.
- First, keep calm. Panicking is useless.
- Come on, what are we waiting for? We go into them and kill them all! Baldur growled.
- Sir Gottwald, you may not have seen how many there are? Wüstengrenze is a city of a thousand inhabitants, half of whom are old people, women and children, and opposite, they is a band of at least the same number. A thousand brutes twice as strong as a man against us, in your opinion, on which side the odds are sited?
- We're going to die! We're lost! cried the burgomaster.
Lady Franzseska punched him on his chin. Emmerich collapsed like a rag doll. Distraught, Sister Carolina knelt beside him to examine him.
- Thanks for taking care of him, my sister. Anyone else need a tune-up? No? Right, I resume. We have to think about the situation. Müller, do you have a map?
- Yes Madam.
Captain Müller unrolled a large map on a table.
- I've only been here for a few weeks, I don't know the region as well as you do, captain. Can you describe us the configuration of Wüstengrenze in a few words?
- Certainly, excellence.
And Captain Müller took his inspiration to embark on a precise explanation.
"Wüstengrenze was originally built by the Dwarf people. True, the Empire's allies prefer to stay in their Karaks, but there have been a few attempts of colonization in the surface world. Well, we're talking about things that happened thousands years ago, it's been a long time since there have been any Dwarves around, although their constructions are still standing. So, the city is on a kind of plateau, and this plateau is surrounded by rocky formations that prevent access to an army towards the city, except by the southwest, the direction where the Orcs are awaiting us. They settled on the only passable road that leads to the city. A good climber could maybe reach the ramparts opposite the front door, but certainly not a contingent of Orcs. As long as the southwest gate stands firmly, therefore, these Orcs won't be able to enter."
"Now look at the layout of the interior of the city: Wüstengrenze is divided into two main parts, the western part and the eastern part. The western part is smaller and more modest, this is where peasants and commoners live. The dwellings there are less solid, and built more with wood than stone. In fact, it is very likely this district to be added by Humans after the departure of the Dwarves. The whole western part had probably another use than housing, but whatever. The boundary between the western part and the eastern part is very clear: a river. This river flows several hundred yards below. In fact, as you already know, the entire plateau was split in half along its entire length, from north to south. This chasm measures approximately two hundred feet. The Dwarves built, thanks to their unique know-how, a large bridge that covers this length, while measuring a hundred feet wide. This bridge is particularly solid, and we have already found traces of attempted destruction, which failed. To destroy this bridge, it would be necessary to place explosive charges in strategic places, something of which the Orcs are totally incapable."
"Beyond the bridge, there is another rampart with a heavy door. These are the limits of the city of origin, with the barracks where we are now. It's also where the burgomaster's manor spots, as well as the richest shops. According to our estimates, if the exterior door ever breaks down, we could all gather inside the rich city, even if we will be rather tight. In fact, my Lady, I think it would be more reasonable to evacuate people who are not able to fight directly in the eastern quarter, we'll save time in case the Orcs change their minds and try to take storm the city. They will be safe this time."
There was a short awkward silence, broken by Lady Franzseska.
- We will do it once this reunion is over. Please go on, captain.
- Yes Madam.
"The river irrigates the area enough for our wells to provide us water without the risk of drying out. The problem, of course, will be food. As long as the Orcs are there, it will not be possible for us to access the fields at the bottom of the hill or to hunt game. Besides, there is a good chance that there is already no more game, and that they have burned the fields. You have already made an inventory of our reserves, my Lady, and in view of the quantities of food we have, I would say that we can last a week, perhaps ten days, if we establish the rationing correctly. Ten days with the Orcs on our doorstep, I don't know if it's much too long, or too short..."
Everyone had listened carefully, and so no one had paid attention to what was going on outside. And so, no one had noticed a lanky figure who had approached, and had also heard the instructions.
Bunch of idiots... We wouldn't be in such a shitty situation if you let me make clear to these bastards of Orcs this land is ours!
The burgomaster groaned in pain, and opened his eyes, surprised to feel Sister Carolina's knees under his neck.
- What happened?
- I cut short your confusion, retorted Lady Franzseska coldly.
Emmerich got up painfully, and rubbed his back, between his shoulders, with a grimace of pain.
- So, what should we do?
- I was about to ask Captain Müller this question. What solution do you recommend?
- As you said to Master Gottwald earlier, we have no chance of winning if we face them head on. If they manage to enter, we may still be able to hold them at the bridge spot, and save a little more time. But we absolutely must ask for help, and warn the surrounding villages.
- Especially Steinerburg, so Commander Schmetterling can mobilize the army! added Kristofferson.
- For that, we have to raise the alert. Do you have carrier pigeons?
- Alas, we don't, my lady. Kreutzer has banned them.
The blonde Human turned to the burgomaster with an exasperated sigh.
- Well, can we know why, Master Emmerich?
- Uh... Because... because he didn't want to "depend on poultry".
- So how do you get a message across?
- Well, by rider.
- So we have to send a rider! said Walter.
- A rider would be massacred by the Orcs! moaned Pol.
- Not necessarily. A rider with a fast mount could elude pursuit. He will just have to pass them.
Lady Franzseska asked Müller:
- Is there a way to go down the cliff?
- Oh... theoretically, I think, but several hours will be necessary for that.
- And can't we go by the river?
- No, it's too dangerous: first, it is several tens of yards below, and it is not very deep, the diver has a good chance of hitting the ground if he jumps directly from the top bridge. Then, the stream is violent and there are a lot of rocks there, the risk of shattering on a stone is too heavy. Strictly speaking, at the bottom of the hill, the river widens, but it is beyond the Orc encampment.
Lady Franzseska looked up and considered all the members of the assembly.
- I propose that we send two persons: one of them will try to break the blockade on horseback, the other will go over the cliff and try to reach the nearest town where there could be carrier pigeons. Captain Müller, what could this city be?
- Eigeltingen, my Lady. To the north. This city is big enough, but it's an entire day's walk.
- And to the west, beyond Klapperschlänge?
- Ulricingen.
- Right. Sister Carolina?
- Yes, Madam?
- Please drive Master Emmerich to the temple, I guess he needs some rest.
The young priestess led the burgomaster out of the room. The steward continued:
- Captain, you will immediately organize the regrouping of citizens in the eastern part of Wüstengrenze. And find me two volunteers, one for horse racing, the other for climbing.
- One single volunteer will be sufficient, said Kristofferson. I shall try my luck on horseback.
The tall blond woman turned to the brown Skaven.
- Are you sure, young man? I expected nothing less from you, but you are the son of my best friend, I would be remiss if I sent you to death!
- I am no longer a child, my Lady. You forget that I participated in several Harvests. I can sow these big imbalances.
- Can you hold the reins with one hand?
- I have this, Kristofferson replied, waving the tip of his tail at his elbow.
Lady Franzseska nodded.
- Above all, do not take unnecessary risks. Once in Ulricingen, you send the pigeon to Steinerburg, and you don't move. Or, return directly to your grandfather.
- What? But I want to help you!
- And that's what you'll do by sound the alert. However, I ask you not to play hero. You won't have any use if you come back alone. On the other hand, I'll see you with pleasure if you are part of the reinforcements.
- I swear I will, my Lady. For you, and for you, Captain Müller.
And for Carolina!
Kristofferson leaned over the map.
- I already know what I'll do. The main danger is the plain around the hill. However, look, there is a wood here. If I get to this wood, their riders won't be able to follow me. Their boars are too massive, just like the Orcs sitting on them, they will be slowed down by the branches. I doubt they are used to riding in the forest, unlike me.
- It seems to me a good strategy, my boy.
- I shall prepare my horse.
- When will you be leaving, my liege?
- As soon as possible, Captain Müller. I should be able to seize immediately the slightest opening, the slightest occasion.
- Now go and gather the citizens, and don't forget the other volunteer!
- At your command, my Lady. Good luck, my liege.
Captain Müller bowed and went out, leaving the ratman alone with the housekeeper.
- I'm going to post myself near the main door, ready to go. Well see, maybe at some point in the night, there will be more sleeping? Ideally, I would need an opportunity.
This sentence had not escaped the sad figure slumped under the open window. Painfully, it got up and zigzagged away.
Poor giant rat moron... I'll get you an opportunity!
Kristofferson was about to walk through the door, when Lady Franzseska said to him again:
- I repeat, Kristofferson, I care about you too much to lose you stupidly. I guess you care about your friends, too, whether Human or Skaven, and it's all to your credit, but you don't have to throw yourself to death for nothing. You have to keep a cool head, so you can do your best.
- It's not my style to go headlong, it would be Sigmund's.
- Yes, it's true. Come on, I'll accompany you at least to the door, I'll be on the lookout.
Half an hour later, Franzseska, Müller, Walter and Pol were stationed on the rampart, above the large front door of Wüstengrenze. Like all Dwarven constructions, it was a monumental door, the leaves of which opened thanks to heavy machinery based on levers, weights and chains. Müller explained a good half a minute between the moment the wheel was started to spin and the moment the door moves was necessary. Each leaf was independent, so at least two operators were needed in order to keep it wide open.
Kristofferson faced the huge panels of reinforced wood.
Sure, even if the Orcs change their mind and attack the city, they will have a hard time getting through!
He turned to his horse, and gently flattered its neck.
- I don't like it, but you're going to have to gallop like you've never galloped.
Lady Franzseska called the young ratman.
- Will it be right for you?
- It will be necessary, my Lady.
- I trust you, just like I trust Gottwald.
The brave foreman volunteered to deliver the message to Eigeltingen, to the north. Kristofferson had no concerns about his ability to descend the cliff. The real problem was time. Time was running out, and there was nothing he could do but wait for the right moment. He looked up. Torches crackled along the walkway, and lit up the figures of his fellow soldiers. The sky was black, completely covered with clouds.
- They seem calm at the moment, commented Walter.
- But they take turns, said Pol. Maybe we should wait a couple of hours?
- Orcs are daytime creatures, explained Lady Franzseska. They prefer to attack in the bright sun, even if they do not disdain to take up arms during the night. There will be a time when... hey, what is that?
Pol's eyes widened in surprise.
- What's going on? Oh! Damn it!
Before the doors, Kristofferson became nervous.
- What, what?
- Someone's approaching the Orc camp, Walter answered. I can't see who it is.
A voice that contained all the disdain and fatalism in the world tore the silence that hovered over the slope between the looters' camp and Wüstengrenze.
- Ho! You simple-minded barbarians! You hear me?
Müller felt his blood ignite.
- Kreutzer? How did he get there?
- He must have gone over the rampart, Walter supposed.
It was the tall, bony Human, who approached the Orc encampment, shouting in a voice very heavy with alcohol:
- Come on, you green-skinned assholes! Need an "opportunity", I give one! Come get me!
He took a pistol from his belt and fired to the sky. The detonation finished attracting the attention of the Orcs. Satisfied, he sneered and ran to meet them.
- What the Hell is he doing?
Pol followed the action through the scope of his rifle. He saw the former captain brandishing a cylindrical object with his both hands. It was a keg. The coal-coated Skaven felt his fur bristle when he recognized one of the barrels of gunpowder from the barracks' ammunition store.
- He's about to blow himself up!
- He's crazy! creaked Walter.
- No, he's not crazy at all! Franzseska realized.
When he saw the first Orcs approaching him, Kreutzer changed his course, and turned left. He ran as fast as he could, while taking his lighter out of his pocket. He stopped, out of breath, and lit the wick.
- It's over for him... muttered Müller.
- Yes, but look, he caught their attention! said Lady Franzseska.
The tall woman threw herself on the wheel, and started to spin it, quickly helped by Walter and Müller. All the mechanics moved slowly and noisily.
Downstairs, Kristofferson understood immediately. He was about to get on his mount, as a clear voice called him.
- Kristofferson!
The young ratman turned his head, and saw the silhouette of Sister Carolina running towards him in her white robe, out of breath. The surprise made him hesitate a little when he said to her:
- I have to go alone, it's too dange...
- I know!
She threw herself around his neck, and stuck a small kiss on his cheek. Tears in her eyes, she murmured:
- For luck!
The Skaven replied with a confident little smile. Without further ado, he leaped onto his horse's saddle, and heeled it as hard as he could. He galloped through the door, and over his head heard his friends wishing him luck.
The Orcs had practically caught up with Kreutzer, on the left. Kristofferson was therefore trying to pass as far to the right as possible of the camp, taking into account the rocky barrier which wouldn't allow him to take another direction. He whipped his tail forward to grab the reins firmly on the left side, and pulled his mount to the right before rushing forward again.
A deafening roar broke out behind him, and a flash of light illuminated the surroundings for a fraction of a second.
I won't regret you, but I shall honour your gesture!
The Orcs had stretched their camp over a fairly wide perimeter, but there were still a few dozen yards between the tents and the rocks. His mount spun, the wind whistled in his ears, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tents becoming farer on his left. Alas, as he expected, bellows of rage soon echoed behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted the six coarse, dark shapes of wild boar riders chasing after him.
The horse neighed in panic. Kristofferson was determined to escape danger. He again heeled, and even uttered a furious "Yo!" He focused his gaze on the black line formed by the trees of the forest. Time seemed to slow down, he could no longer hear the roars of the Orcs, any more the panicked whinnying of the horse. He almost felt the breath of the Greenskins on his spine...
Nothing but my imagination, my steed is much faster than these pigs!
And finally, he entered the wood such an arrow. He made his mount zigzag between the trees, and didn't hesitate to toggle on the side to avoid the lowest branches. His tail gripped the horse's neck firmly, without strangling it.
His audacity paid off. Quickly, the young ratman exited the wooded area by the other side, without being followed. As he expected, the Orcs couldn't follow him to the end. He allowed his mount to slow down a bit, and sneered in relief.
- Yeah! And thank you for the run, you sons of…
He was interrupted by an abominable screech which tore his eardrums. He didn't have time to lift his head until he felt a pair of clawed paws grabbing him by the back of his tunic, and lifting him with irresistible force. The furious flapping of two membranous wings finished dispelling his doubts: he was being carried away by the young wyvern which had escaped them at Klapperschlänge! Not large enough to make a mount, it was nonetheless capable of capturing a good size prey!
The unfortunate Skaven tried to resist, and tightened the grip around the horse's neck as hard as he could, but that was not enough. Hallucinated, he saw his horse leave without him, then the wyvern turned back towards the Orc camp, and the ground moved away, away...
Find a solution. NOW!
Young Steiner looked everywhere, searching something to give him any idea, good or bad. He then spotted, a few hundred yards from his position, the river which ran down the hill of Wüstengrenze. It was an inspiration. Probably not the most reasonable thing in his life, but he didn't have time to think about it.
He pulled his rapier, and plunged it without hesitation into the neck of the wyvern. The blade sank between two scales. The creature squeaked in pain and shook its head so hard that Kristofferson almost dropped the handle of his weapon. He insisted, and pushed again. Suddenly, the blade broke with a metallic snap. Kristofferson dropped the broken sword, gripped the wyvern's left paw with his left hand, then wrapped his tail around its right talon, and he jerked wildly toward the river.
- This way, stupid beast! Fall over this way, come on!
This strategy was daring, crazy, completely thoughtless... but it worked. The wyvern lost altitude, and spread its wings to avoid falling too hard. Under the impulse of its reluctant prey, it finally obliqued to the stormy waters, and splashed into the water.
Kristofferson pushed back with all the strength he had left the still-moving carcass of the creature. Carried away by the current, he tried to go up in the open air. He split the surface of the water, and took a deep breath of air. But he immediately understood that he was not out of the woods yet.
The water stream was much more tumultuous than he had anticipated, and already he saw rocks protruding here and there. He wanted to resist the force that pulled him, and swam as best he could with the arm he had left. He then spotted a small passage where the wave seemed less furious. But as he threw himself forward, his knee hit a big pebble under the water. He hadn't sworn yet that he already hit another rock on his right flank. An incredible pain inflamed his arm, this time he cried. Just half a second. He felt an even more violent shock on his head, and passed out.