When he awoke after a particularly difficult night, Gabriel had opened the shutters, and almost cried with joy when he saw the sun in a sky completely devoid of clouds. He had washed his face then dressed while singing. But no sooner had he seen his older sister in the refectory, eating her breakfast, than reality knocked him down more brutally than a boar's charge.
No, all those abominable memories were not a figment of his imagination.
The two Humans who had looked at him, the Dwarf who had threatened him, and then his father, foaming at the lips, rolling on the carpet, the interrogation of Klingmann…
Everything had really happened.
And everything had to be accepted, willy-nilly.
The suffering of the little ratboy was twofold. Not only was he overwhelmed with sadness, but his heart was also crushed with ruthless guilt.
What if it was his prayer that had been heard, but answered on the wrong person?
Or worse, what if this was just the beginning? Perhaps the Horned Rat was now going after little Emil Finston?
Or, and this was the most rational thing, was it just a fatal coincidence?
His mother's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
- Gabriel… darling?
Heike was on the doorstep, Isolde in her arms.
- Y… yes, Mother?
- We are going to have a very difficult day, but it is necessary. We must ask the Gods to take good care of your father. Do you understand what that means?
- I understand, Mother.
- Your brothers and your grandfather are already at the Temple of Morr.
- The… the temple of…
Gabriel already felt terror gripping him. He used to hate the places where the sick and wounded were gathered, but he feared twice as much the austere building and the grim park where the dead were buried.
- I know it's very difficult, but I pray you, do this for him.
- Uh… Right, Mother.
- Go put on your best clothes, we'll join them there. And I promise you we won't stay longer than necessary.
The little light grey Skaven nodded. His throat was too dry and sore to allow him to add the slightest sound.
Bianka then asked:
- Mother, I… don't understand. Why the Temple of Morr?
- Where do you want him to be buried?
- Father didn't worship Morr! He was loyal to the Horned Rat!
The ratmother sighed.
- You are right, darling. In fact, we are doing this for Prospero Steiner, the White Skaven who became Human thanks to the Prince. Symbolically, this will be the ultimate proof of his acceptance of Human culture. And, spiritually... Your father once explained to me that White Skaven are quickly brought before the Horned Rat when they die, precisely because they are his chosen ones. Maybe Psody has already been put on trial… Either way, it doesn't matter. It is his Human friends in body or heart who will pay homage to him today.
- I hope Morr won't get angry and consider him an intruder.
- I asked Brother Wenceslas to prepare a special prayer in this regard. Now get ready, we go.
As within the borders of the Empire of Karl Franz, death was regarded in Vereinbarung with fear and respect. The Great Temple of Morr in Vereinbarung reflected this spirit perfectly. This medium-sized building was already there when Steiner's settlers had packed up six years earlier, solid and unforgiving around the ruins that then surrounded it. Since then, the whole area had been renovated, and had become the Chalice Quarter, but the building dedicated to the God of Death had not needed major work. Its dark stone walls were devoid of any ornament. Only a large statue of Morr hung above the large front door, beneath the slate tiles. The hairless stone face that sternly appraised anyone about to cross the threshold was already a first step into this mortuary atmosphere.
Behind the temple stretched the main cemetery of Vereinbarung. The largest, the best maintained, where the most refined tombs and vaults mingled. Some stelae were decorated with impressive statues of angels or holy people. However, the cemetery was large enough to welcome the deceased from more modest backgrounds. There was even a mass grave at the back, out of sight.
A large crowd was gathered in front of the temple. Steinerburg's most important personalities waited outside the heavy gates. As the family convoy approached, the voices died down.
Two carriages halted in front of the Temple of Morr. The first was the Prince's personal car. Its sides were decorated with the coat of arms of Vereinbarung, its doors and its roof were surrounded by bronze decorations leaves and branches shaped. But for this dark occasion, Steiner had removed the flags attached to the rear, and the two horses that had been chosen to tow the vehicle had a black coat.
A discreet silence fell over the assembly when the Prince, his daughter and her two youngest children descended from the carriage. Steiner's grandson, unable to meet anyone's gaze, had his eyes glued to his toes. Isolde was already crying, clinging to her mother.
Kristofferson, Sigmund, Romulus and Bianka left the second carriage. Kristofferson noticed that there were at least as many Skaven as Humans in the assembly, if not more. He recognized a large number of the Harvested among them, including Walter and Pol, as well as the members of the Black Guard. To believe that all the Skaven torn from the Under-Empire had wished to pay a last tribute to their saviour. This sight warmed his heart a little.
Sigmund regretted not seeing Ambassador Eusebio Clarin, but how would he have had time to make the trip? The funeral ceremony had been organized very quickly. Maybe Prince Calderon didn't even know the tragedy yet?
On the threshold of the religious building Brother Wenceslas, the appointed Prior of Morr of Steinerburg, was waiting. The Priest was a perfect illustration of everything that characterized the Empire's God of Death: tall, sickly thin, cold as a grave, eyes sunken deep in their sockets, pale, hairless face frozen in a an expression of unchanging gravity, framed by long, equally black hair which, however, did not cover the top of his bald head. When Gabriel saw him raising his muzzle briefly, he shuddered. The clergyman's black robe looked like it was absorbing the colours all around him!
Prior Romulus stepped forward.
- May peace be upon you, Prior Wenceslas.
The tall, austere man passed his hand in front of his face, up and down.
- Shallya lightens your heart, Prior Romulus, like your friends'.
Then he turned to the Prince.
- Your Highness, everything is ready. You will be able to gather with your family in complete privacy, before starting the ceremony.
- Thank you, Brother Wenceslas, we won't be long.
- Take the time you need, Your Majesty. The people will know how to wait.
The Steiners gathered, and entered the temple. When the door closed behind them, Gabriel swallowed hard. They silently crossed the nave to reach a small door on the left side. Along the way, the little ratboy felt overwhelmed by the accusing stare of the bronze and stone statues. The Prior of Morr opened the door, and invited the Humans and Skaven to enter.
This side room was rather small, but better lit than the rest of the temple. There was a scent of incense and oils, probably preferable to the acrid smell of carrion exhaled by the corpses that lingered in this place.
In the middle of the room, placed on wooden trestles, a small open coffin was waiting for the visitors. Gabriel believed again he was deep into a nightmare. The whole room seemed to fade around the coffin, which remained the only clearly visible element, while a kind of distant complaint was titillating his eardrums.
He jumped when he felt his older sister's hands on his shoulders. Bianka whispered in his ear:
- Courage, Gab. You want to see him?
- Not immediately.
The little light grey Skaven was already drenched in sweat. The young ratgirl advanced alone. She finally found herself close enough to the ornate wooden box to see the corpse of her father.
She felt the tears flow, and clenched her delicate hands over her mouth. Kristofferson and Sigmund quickly surrounded her, each placing a comforting hand on her back. Prior Wenceslas, himself standing on the other side of the coffin, had a grave look. Prior Romulus remained next to Heike and Isolde.
Bianka looked up at the priest and stammered:
- He… he seems… so… peaceful?
- Prior Romulus took care of the body himself, explained Prior Wenceslas. I am moreover surprised; you seem to know more about it than a priest of Shallya would, Brother Romulus?
- Before joining the Rat Kingdom, I was an itinerant Priest. I had to learn this discipline from your colleagues in Middenheim after the Storm of Chaos. They were overwhelmed, the Temple of Shallya had sent me to help them.
- Hum… I suppose, after such a tragedy. It makes sense.
But the young blond ratgirl already paid no more attention to the exchange of the two men of religion. The Prior had probably not had so much work to do: the White Skaven had not been burned, or cut into pieces. His impeccable, smooth hair made him almost more alive than she was then. He looked gorgeous in his Mage of Jade outfit.
She gazed at her father like that for a few long minutes, then she turned away, followed by Kristofferson.
Sigmund remained alone in front of the lying body of the White Skaven. Big tears silently slid down her cheekbones.
I wish you had answered "yes" to my question! And now, how to do?
He clung to that thought. In truth, it was the only concrete idea that his brain could work out. He did not stay long in front of the coffin, and hastened to join Bianka. The two twins wept in each other's arms.
Heike moved forward, Isolde snuggled up against her. When the two ratwomen stood in front of the coffin, the little one burst into tears again.
- I beg you, Shallya! Father is nice! Father deserves to go to his paradise! Make him happy forever!
- Prior Romulus will do everything for that, my dear.
They too stayed for a few minutes before stepping back.
At last, Gabriel felt that this was his last chance.
He swallowed his saliva, approached the coffin with small steps, very slowly. After a long half-minute, he found himself facing the cadaver of the White Skaven.
It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault it's my fault it's my fault it's my fault it's my...
He was shaking like a leaf. He looked nervously at the other family members. Ludwig Steiner encouraged him with a small nod. The little ratboy leaned over his father. He whispered in his ear in a breath:
- I… all I wanted was… for you to look at me!
This confession had burned as much energy as if he had to run a mile, and yet he had spoken so quietly that no one else could have heard him. He still had something to say. He caught his breath, leaned again towards the White Skaven's head, but his throat remained knotted. Impossible to start his sentence. He made a terrible effort of concentration and tried again to stammer:
- I l… I l…
It was a waste of time, nothing else came out. In desperation, Gabriel resolved to act instead of talk. He stood on tiptoe, bent his spine, and kissed the White Skaven's forehead. The touch of the white fur made him shiver. He felt like he was kissing a stone statue left outside in the middle of winter. This sensation was a shock, so much so that he felt his own lips cool, as if they had definitely left some of their heat on the icy forehead of the White Skaven. He couldn't stand it any longer and rushed out of the room.
Romulus sighed.
- Let him. He won't get far.
Prior Wenceslas turned to the rest of the siblings.
- Now, my children, we are going to proceed to the sealing of the coffin. Then I…
- Prior, wait! Heike moaned.
- So what, my child?
The poor ratmother looked in turn at the Priest of Shallya, then at her father, then at the Priest of Morr.
- Psody is my one and only love! Grant me a few more moments with him, me alone.
- It is possible, my Lady, but the coffin will have to be closed.
- I'll take care of it, Brother Wenceslas, Romulus intervened.
- You, Brother Romulus?
- I can tighten a few nuts, Brother Wenceslas. And Prospero was my best friend, I want to pay tribute to him, too. Leave Lady Heike for as long as it takes. You just have to go to the prepared location at the cemetery with the children. When Heike calls me, I'll perform Shallya's last rites, and proceed to the closing. After which, I will call your clerks, they can transport the coffin.
- Indeed... Well, right, Brother Romulus.
Shallya's Priest turned to the Prince.
- Ludwig?
The latter didn't move, and stayed away. He nodded slowly.
- My children, let's leave your mother for a few minutes.
The two Priests, the Prince and the young Skaven left the small room, leaving Heike alone with her sadness.
A quarter of an hour later, the coffin, hermetically closed, was placed in front of the altar, in front of the assembly. The temple was completely full. All the Skaven in the assembly hardly contained their own tears.
No one said a word. Only the voice of Prior Wenceslas ricocheted off the walls and columns of the nave.
"My brothers, my sisters, today we are living a very sad moment, but also a moment that brings hope. Our friend Prospero Steiner, Master Mage of the College of Jade, advisor and adopted son of our Prince, has been the victim of a terrible twist of fate. His life was interrupted by a criminal hand, we know that. But this should not be seen as a disastrous failure, let alone the end."
"During his life, Prospero fought with all his might for his ideals. In the beginning, his goal was to please his divinity and his masters, in order to allow his own to flourish. But he then inhabited the Under-Empire, and that goal involved the destruction of our society. Multiple trials and encounters allowed him to see the world differently, from another point of view: ours. That's how he gradually changed. Eventually, he became like us. And it was with our Sovereign, Prince Ludwig Steiner, and all the people who followed him after the fall of Gottliebschloss, that our friend created the Rat Kingdom. Kingdom of which you are all inhabitants."
"Every Skaven here owes something to Master Mage Prosper Steiner. As he led each Harvest, therefore, all Skaven Freed owe him the life they currently live. I am sure that his companion, Lady Heike, and his children are all filled with joy to see all those who have come to show their compassion."
"Now, my dear brothers, my dear sisters, we shall address our prayer to Morr, the God of Death and Dreams. Due to the religious beliefs of the Master Mage, which are a little different from ours, we will slightly change the words of this prayer, but let's keep the intentions intact, I ask you."
The assembly remained silent. In the front row, Heike gave a small nod. Prior Wenceslas raised his arms, and addressed the heavens directly in a loud voice:
"O Morr, You who reign over the Realm below
On the vaults of unfathomable mystery
Where the gloomy and leaden horizon stretches
O Morr, You who watch over the spirits of the dead
When time stands still
And penumbra turns into night…"
In response to this call, the ringer struck the temple bell in a slow rhythm. The Priest of Morr continued his litany:
"Lord of Death who dwells in all things
Lord of Dreams
King of calm and silence
Humbly we ask You to receive and guide,
On the path he started, our friend Prospero Steiner.
See this deceased come to You
Open Your doors,
Let a ray of light shine forth!
We hear Your heavy and measured step
We hear Your step to accompany him!
We hear Your step to lead him before his God,
Whose name and nature are known by You,
To intercede for him."
Wenceslas paused. Ordinarily, this prayer asked the God of Death to welcome the soul of the deceased into his garden. Prior Wenceslas had listened to Heike's wish, and adapted the prayer accordingly. He resumed:
"Prospero Steiner, we know, it was not born in Vereinbarung, but in the depths of the Under-Empire. From his first day, his Destiny seemed marked out. A Grey Seer Destiny, educated in fear and hate. A Destiny from which he freed himself: he left the society of the ratmen, in order to live in ours. But if he agreed to live according to our rules, our laws, our customs, he nevertheless kept an unwavering faith in the God who granted him his powers and his intelligence. Prospero Steiner never rejected the patron deity of the Under-Empire. Let's ask Morr to speak with this deity, to explain to him all the benefits that Prospero has brought to the Skaven."
"Of course, at first glance, Prospero's activities were treachery and heresy to the people of the Under-Empire. But Prospero believed he could allow his people to flourish, to stop living in this fear and hatred. He has only just begun his work, and perhaps in time, what he started here can spread throughout the Under-Empire? Then, the Skaven will be able to enjoy a better existence, as the Harvested and their children already do. We all hope that the god Prospero trusted is aware of this. Morr, try to explain it to him when Prospero's soul is judged by his standards. If he seems to have harmed the Under-Empire today, it is to prepare its salvation tomorrow."
Prior Wenceslas raised his left hand. The ringer knocked three times, more distinctly, and put down his mallet.
- Now, O citizens of Vereinbarung, relatives, friends of Prospero Steiner, let us gather for a few minutes and pray silently to our God again.
Nobody spoke, nobody moved. All that was heard was the vibration of the bell which continued to run through the nave from one end to the other. The silence was only broken by a brief, muffled sob here and there. Kristofferson winced when he felt tears finally escape his eyes. They seemed burning to him.
After what felt like hours, Gabriel felt his heart contract when he heard the deep voice of Prior Wenceslas.
- It is time for us, the living, to leave the dead to our God. To conclude our ceremony, I invite all who can to repeat this last closing prayer after me. Then we will return our friend to the earth, in consecrated ground.
And the Priest took his inspiration, and recited in a powerful voice:
"O Morr, we address You from here
Our infinite gratitude
For having supported the soul of Prospero in this ultimate test.
So be it!"
The congregation repeated the prayer. The doors of the temple were opened. Two Black Skaven seized the coffin by its handles, and went up along the nave, followed by the members of the family, then by the rest of the assembly.
Outside, the weather was relatively fine, the summer sun lingered, but there was still this unpleasant little wind whistling annoyingly. Prior Wenceslas led the procession up the small hill behind the temple. The two Black Skaven placed the small coffin in the hole dug for him. Bianka huddled against Sigmund, anguished by the new ordeal they were going to live.
All the people present were going to come to express their sympathy, to assure that there was only one word to say to help them, before depositing a clod of earth on the coffin. All the notables of the city were in the front row, ready to recite their verse. In fact, half of them didn't mean a word of it. Bianka had no illusions. If she believed in the sincerity of High Priestess Rebmann, Sister Judy Hoffnung, or Walter Klingmann, she was much less confident in the compassion of individuals like Griekov, Arcturus, or other collaborators of her grandfather.
She felt every bit of her fur stand on end as she saw the lanky figure of Brisingr Steadyhand approach. At least he wasn't sporting his perpetual smirk. The Elf approached his mother.
- Heike, my little mouse… I will always be with you.
- I know it well, Brisingr, thank you.
- This also applies to the rest of you.
The Magister looked at the five children in turn. Bianka pointedly looked away. Sigmund frowned and stared the other straight in the eye.
- Well, anyway, you understand.
The Elf stepped back. High Priestess Desdemona Rebmann shared her grief, followed by Brother Samuel Heifetz. And then, a whole procession of Skaven passed in front of the family, each with a little word of gratitude, a flower, a wish for peaceful rest. Bianka was surprised to recognize among them the librarian, Bernhardt Reitherman. He was also the only Skaven from the Verena temple to have moved. Did the others have less gratitude to show?
Note, there aren't very many of them, and someone has to guard the temple, the ratgirl thought.
- High Archivist, I… I am very sad for you.
She didn't answer, but allowed herself to give him a small smile. And she felt her heart sink deep inside her when she realized there was sincerity in that smile.
Bernhardt dared not add anything, the almost inquisitive gaze of the two elders prompted him to shorten the interview. He quickly withdrew.
Finally came the saving moment when the last citizen paid his respects. At a sign from the Priest of Morr, the two Black Skaven each took a shovel, and finished covering the coffin with a thin layer of earth. It took them a few long minutes, during which Prior Wenceslas continued to murmur a few prayers, taken up by the Steiners. Finally, the clerks laid a marble slab, thus permanently isolating the coffin from the outside world.
The five children and their mother thus remained standing in front of the tomb, with the Prince and the chaplain. After another long minute of silence, Steiner whispered:
- I know it's hard, but now we have to stay on the way up. He wouldn't want anyone complaining about his fate. Let's go home.
- Will I be needed, Ludwig?
- No, Romulus.
The Prior looked in turn at Kristofferson, Isolde, Bianka, Sigmund and Gabriel.
- If you need to talk about anything that could relieve you, do not hesitate to come and see me at the temple of Shallya. I will do anything to help you get through this tempest.
Finally, the Steiners all set off back to the carriages, leaving the two priests behind. Before crossing the gate, Sigmund turned one last time, and thought:
Farewell, Father…
The atmosphere of the day's supper was definitively deadly. The Prince was alone with Heike and her children. No one said a word, all you could hear was the sound of cutlery.
Bianka ventured to break the silence.
- What did the Vereneans find?
Certain priests of Verena were trained to conduct investigations. They were able to spot clues at the scene where a crime had been committed, search the records, and draw conclusions. All day during the burial, three Verenean Investigators had been combing through the great dining room and the kitchen.
- For the moment, the only clue we have is the wine, answered the Prince. The rest of the meal contained no poison. Of course, other people have drunk this wine, including myself.
Isolde's heart raced.
- Oh no! Opa, you will...
- No, my angel, calm down, replied Steiner, raising his hand. Don't worry, I'm out of danger: the Vereneans have given me a dose of the antidote. Even if I swallowed the other ingredient needed to activate the poison, it wouldn't work.
- And… where did this wine come from? Gabriel stammered.
The Prince's face scowled.
- It was wine offered by Calderon!
Bianka opened her eyes wide.
- Opa, you don't think that the Prince of Sueño would have sent poisoned wine, do you?
- It's true, he would have committed a big mistake, added Kristofferson.
- You are right, my children, especially since this wine has been tested by tasters, like all the rest of the food. It is a necessary precaution at the Prince's table, especially when you have so many notables as guests. The killer probably added the poison between the kitchen and Psody's goblet, which means he was among us during the meal.
At the end of the table, Sigmund was at his lowest. The Prince noticed this and called him:
- Hey, Sigmund?
- Hmm…
- Are you listening to us?
Although he had not drunk the smallest glass of alcohol, the Black Skaven looked like as if was shattered by a hangover.
- Don't care about your assumptions...
- Hey, I'll ask you to feel a little more concerned, boy!
Sigmund sat up on his chair.
- How could I be more concerned than that? Our father has been murdered!
He collapsed on the table, and moaned nervously. Bianka, who was sitting next to him, left her seat and shouted at him, hands on her hips.
- It is not by staying like this that things will progress, Sigmund Steiner! You are the Captain of the Black Guard, so behave so, instead of lamenting your fate!
The big Black Skaven jumped up.
- That's exactly what's wrong with you, Bianka! Our father is dead, and you only think about being efficient! You have no feelings! You have no heart into your chest, you have a rock!
- If we don't remain rock solid, we won't get anywhere, Siggy! Every time you get overwhelmed by your emotions, you lose your mind, and it gets you in trouble! You should have realized that by now!
Sigmund roared in anger:
- You frustrated, pseudo-intellectual bitch!
Bianka responded to the insult with a slap. The Prince decided to stop the escalation.
- STOP!
He got up and stood between the two Skaven to move them away from each other.
- That's enough now! Sit down, both of you!
The two Skaven immediately obeyed, suddenly chilled by such a demonstration of authority. The Prince was angry. He pointed an energetic index finger towards the big Black Skaven.
- Sigmund, I don't want you talking to your sister like that anymore. Never. Such words have no place in the mouth of a gentleman brought up like your mother did. It is my education you are insulting.
Then he turned to the young girl.
- And you, Bianka, this is the last time I see you raise your hand on someone of your blood. Even on anyone without your life being in danger. Violence must be used as a last resort only, to defend ourselves.
The tall Human was ruddy. He had to catch his breath. He sat down again at the table and explained in a calmer voice:
- You have the right to be angry. But you shouldn't get the wrong target. This is precisely what our enemies seek to do. They expect us to argue, to mistrust each other, maybe they will even try to divide us with slander or fake evidence. When I was in Talabheim, I experienced this kind of crisis. My father had to deal with rivals who did not hesitate to use the worst baseness to pit the Steiners against each other. And today, it could happen that way. But I trust you. None of you will ever betray me, I'm sure of that. However, we must all stay united. We have to prove to these scumbags we are stronger than them. Let's stay focused, and keep our ties tight.
Steiner considered all the Skaven around the table.
- First, let's all go to bed. Tomorrow we will think about how we will live these next few days. We'll see what decisions to make, what behaviours to adopt, and what systems to put in place.
The Prince left his place, followed by Heike. Isolde hastened to follow her mother. Bianka turned to her three brothers and gave them a little sign: she pointed to them, then pointed to the ground. Kristofferson and Sigmund nodded wordlessly.
Arrived in front of the parental bedroom, Heike hugged her daughters.
- Listen, my darlings... thank you, but it will be fine. It will be fine.
- Are you sure, Mother?
- I shall have to get used to… this situation.
She backed away slowly, opened her bedroom door, walked through it, then closed it behind her. The two sisters waited a few moments in agonizing silence. Then, it was fatal, heart-rending sobs of rage and despair echoed through the wooden partition.
Isolde reached out to lower the handle, but Bianka stopped her.
- Let her. Sometimes people need to be alone for a bit.
- I don't like when she cries.
- Me neither, but we can't do anything. If we stay with her, she won't dare cry in front of us. If we let her, she can cry without restrain herself.
- But it's not good to cry!
- On the contrary, Isolde. Sorrow comes out in tears, and then you feel better. Now, bedtime.
Bianka pulled her sister by the hand, but she refused to follow her.
- I want to stay with her.
- Soso, we must leave her alone.
- I'll wait until she's finished crying.
The little ratgirl firmly crossed her arms, and pouted. Bianka sighed. When her young sister put on that grimace, only her parents or her grandfather were able to make her change her mind without raising the voice. She no longer had the strength to be bossy.
- Right… You'll knock to be sure.
- Yes, Bianka.
- And if she doesn't want to let you in, go to your bed right away!
- Yes, Bianka.
Bianka went back down to the small dining room.
When she faced the three Steiner boys, she made sure no servants were nearby, then she explained:
- Kit, Siggy, Gab, the hour is very serious. Someone has decided to tear our family apart, and I want to know who it is, with Verena's help!
Gabriel swallowed his saliva.
- You think Feral Skaven are behind this?
Sigmund growled.
- It's not really their style. Indeed, assassins of Clan Eshin know how to use a whole range of poisons, but they're more the type to strike from the shadows, cut your neck while you sleep, or use poison darts. Putting Heartkill, or whatever, in a plate is not their usual way.
- Perhaps they are experimenting with a new way? stammered the little ratboy again.
The blonde ratgirl smiled triumphantly.
- Well, I'm thinking about something!
All eyes turned to Bianka.
- Do you have any suspicions?
- Better than that, Kit: I have a suspect.
- Who? Gabriel asked nervously.
- Who? Sigmund repeated, his fist already clenched on the hilt of his sword.
The young girl raised her hands.
- Calm down! I am indeed thinking about someone particularly. The problem is I have no solid proof at the moment. This is where you will have to work to get it!
- Can you at least tell us who you're thinking of?
- Not yet, Siggy. The person I'm thinking of is dangerous. I don't want to make you take risks by putting you in too much confidence. However, what you can do is help me catch this person.
- How?
Bianka looked at her three brothers, and announced in a deep voice:
- I need your trust. I can't catch the culprit by myself. But since I can't tell you who it is, I'll have to ask you to follow my instructions. Everyone will do a small isolated action, and I will be the coordinator. I must be sure that I can count on all of you, your loyalty, your reliability and your trust. Nobody but us should know.
- Not even Romulus?
- No, Siggy. Not Romulus.
- Not even… Opa Ludwig?
- Especially not. No one else should be involved.
The High Archivist turned to Gabriel.
- Gab, I won't call on you. Nor Isolde. You are too young to be involved in it more than that. Just be on your guard, and report anything suspicious you see, to me, Kit, or Siggy. Don't do anything else. Understood?
Gab shook his head, but looked sad.
- Prior Romulus and Opa Ludwig will not be happy.
- It's a risk I'm willing to take.
- Besides, it's dangerous! You could get killed!
The huge Black Skaven stood up, and looked insistently at the little light grey Skaven.
- A traitor made our father killed, Gab. A coward, tricky bastard came after us. Whoever he is, he has committed a crime for which he will pay with his life, and I will personally find him and bring him back to the temple of Verena, in order to trial him. If I have to break his arms and legs for that, I will!
- Gab, don't forget we are warriors. We have fought Feral Skaven several times. We are used to this danger. Bianka, do you think it's a single person?
- I have only one person in mind, but I won't be surprised if there are accomplices. All the more reason to be doubly careful. Gab, go to bed now. You must not hear what we are going to say to each other. And you shouldn't tell anyone. Especially not Mother. Nor Isolde, she would spill the beans! Do you understand?
Without saying a word, the little light grey Skaven nodded, and hurried out.
Bianka was now alone in the small dining room, thinking about the first lead to pursue. She had briefly explained to her two older brothers her first idea: to find the origin of Jabberwocky blood. This ingredient was very rare, and probably very expensive. It was not possible to find any at the first shop. But then, who could be asked for?
Certainly not at the Temple of Shallya, because sooner or later Romulus would learn that the Steiner children had asked the question.
She could probably find the investigators' report at the Temple of Verena, and thanks to her position as High Archivist, she could consult it? In addition, being linked to the victim gave her additional legitimacy… or not, perhaps as a person directly involved in the investigation, the Investigators would refuse to let her lead her own inquiry?
The construction of College of Jade hadn't even really started, so they weren't to be counted on. Besides, Bianka preferred not to deal with the Mages. She didn't trust them so much, and their way of seeing the world so different from her materialistic mind.
Taal and Rhya's temple had an apothecary in its ranks. That could be a first step? The Steiners were going to have to be careful, though, and keep a low profile. Maybe she could just take care of that question?
They had agreed on this track to follow. The two big boys had gone up to bed, but Bianka needed a few more minutes to think. She remained seated, and pondered the next actions to plan.
Eleven bell strikes rang outside.
We'll see tomorrow. It's time to go to sleep.
The young ratgirl wanted to return to her apartments. But there remained one last little thing to settle first.
Sigmund was busy sharpening Heart of Unicorn. He slid the whetstone slowly, carefully. No doubt, the Blade of Justice would cut a lot of heads off in the next few weeks.
His ear swung. Someone had just knocked on the door. He put Heart of Unicorn on the table, stomped over to the door, and opened it. Before him was standing Bianka, looking embarrassed.
- I'm sorry I hit you, she declared without preamble
- I'm sorry I insulted you, replied the Black Skaven in the same tone.
Bianka threw herself into her brother's arms, and wept silently.
- They killed Father, Siggy…
- We'll find them, and they'll regret it.
The young blonde Skaven calmed down. She saw the sword resting on the varnished wood.
- Promise me that justice will prevail, Siggy! Not vengeance! We must not lose our judgment, otherwise we will become like them!
The copper eyes of the tall Black Skaven sparkled.
- Justice will prevail. Not vengeance.