- Have sent him to Pourseille is madness, Opa!
The sun had just risen. Before the start of a day which he anticipated to be very long and arduous, Ludwig Steiner had come to visit Bianka. She didn't hide her annoyance from him.
- Sigmund has spent the last few days cultivating a deep hatred for this Bretonnian. Of course he has made progress, of course he knows how to fight and command, but I have a feeling he's going to make a mistake that Vaucanson will immediately exploit!
The Prince heaved a deep sigh. Facing the reproachful expression of the young ratgirl, he consented to explain:
- Horace de Vaucanson declared war on us, without parley, and by directly attacking our family. I told your brother de Lombard didn't confirm any complicity between Vaucanson and Steadyhand. However, the coincidence is rather big. He may have worked with the Purple Hand to achieve his ends, consciously or not. At the same time, several of our villages have been invaded by these Bretonnians, and that is a certainty. My duty is to defend my fellow citizens. Sigmund is the Captain of the Black Guard. He knows how to fight, he's brave, and he won't give up.
- Why didn't you entrust this mission to Kristofferson?
- Kristofferson is already in charge of the Purple Hand. In addition, he's not used to military operations. Sigmund is best person to deal with this problem.
- He's going to get killed!
- He is able. Horace de Vaucanson is not to his advantage. From what Mistress Goldilock told me, the Bretonnians have a small army, but not as big as ours.
- But they are well protected, aren't they? They are in a castle!
- They won't be able to resist a siege. Anyway, I advised your brother to use boom-boom moles.
- The… the boom-boom moles? repeated Bianka.
- Don't worry, Sigmund will know how to use them.
Exhausted, Bianka let herself fall back on the mattress with a heartbroken sigh. The Prince tried to reassure her.
- Look, I know you really care about him more than anyone else. I'll never fully understand what you feel for him, but I can make an effort. I assure you the Bretonnians will not win. Sigmund faced more dangerous opponents.
The blond Skaven didn't react. A little embarrassed, the Prince backed up to the door, when he stopped. His forehead creased.
- Say, what is that?
He moved closer to the bed, crouched down, and rummaged under the furniture. He stood up with a small envelope wedged between his thumb and forefinger.
- Where does it come from?
- I don't know, Opa.
- I put it here, you can read it when you want.
Steiner put the envelope on the ratgirl's bedside table and left the room. Once the door to her apartments was closed, Bianka reached for the envelope, and opened it a little awkwardly. She found inside a card with printed designs reminiscent of the fine, graceful drawings of Elven carvings. Three words were simply written:
"Get well soon."
There was no signature, but the handwriting reminded her of something. She concentrated, and saw the same letters again on the inventory of documents that had rained on, an eternity earlier, before her father's disappearance.
What? Did he write this card?
A face came to her mind. The face of someone she had never really cared about…until recently. A person who had endured her pressure with great patience, who had worked without complaining, and who had had the courage to express his support to her on several occasions. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes again.
Am I afraid of getting his attention? Do I want to receive it? Do I only deserve it?
Kristofferson was feeling alone and helpless.
Everything was falling apart around him.
His mother and younger sister didn't leave the parental bedroom anymore.
One of his brothers had gone to war.
The other had completely vanished.
And her other sister, though a little less moody, had spent the day moping and crying, and couldn't get her to smile even a little bit. It wasn't for lack of trying.
The young brown Skaven found himself in a position he judged particularly unpleasant: he definitely didn't know what to do. What could be more frustrating for someone as focused on action as he was?
The only thing he could do was look for a new lead to spot the Purple Hand. Alas – or luckily, he couldn't make up his mind – the Chaos sect hadn't given the slightest sign of presence seen since the extraction of Romulus. Nevertheless, he almost constantly felt the eyes of heretics watching his every move. Anyone who crossed his path could be one of them. Every encounter could end in attempted murder.
He himself no longer dared to leave the family domain. However, he did not want to remain cloistered in his apartments. So, in order to at least feel like he was doing something constructive, he patrolled the park.
The wind was blowing, more biting and aggressive than ever. The young Steiner's ears twitched to the rhythm of the rustling of the leaves of the tall trees, which swayed harder and harder.
Something really nasty is about to…
- Master Steiner?
Kristofferson jumped, and turned on his heels. A soldier hurriedly approached him. For a moment, the brown Skaven worriedly wondered what offense he could have committed to be harangued by a guard, then he remembered that he was at home, in a position of strength compared to this common guard. He asked more abruptly than he had intended:
- What do you want?
- An individual is at the door, he's asking for you, Monsignor.
Kristofferson trotted toward the front gate, grumbling. But when he got to the portal, he stopped short.
- Nedland?
It was indeed the small figure of the Halfling waiting for him behind the bars, holding his pony behind him by the reins.
- Sonny! The guys are nervous, they refuse to let me in!
The brown Skaven addressed the guards on duty.
- So, can't you recognize the Prince's Treasurer when you see him?
- The Prince has instructed us not to let anyone in without his authorization or that of a member of his family, Monsignor.
Kristofferson growled in displeasure. He hated being caught blatantly.
- Well, you have my permission to open this gate and let him in. Now!
The steel gate grinded open, and Nedland Barnrooster stepped into the princely domain. He looked tired, exhausted even, as if he had spent the last three days galloping without a pause. The two comrades installed the treasurer's pony in the stable, then they returned to the mansion.
Because of his avowed links with the underworld, Nedland Barnrooster had many resources in this environment, and had his entrances in one or other of the inns of Steinerburg. The salary paid to him by the Prince allowed him to keep a comfortable room both at the Esmeralda's Blessing and in other places deemed much less frequented by high society. However, in case of important business likely to detain him for a while, he had a small, basic room in the part of the house reserved for the servants.
The Halfling had asked a servant to bring him a tub of hot water, soap and a screen. As he was scrubbing, Nedland spoke to his friend through the removable wooden partition.
- Yeah, I had to push back Shortyleg' limits, I feel that he's a little angry with me, but I had to hurry, considering what I've been in trouble with.
- I don't understand, the brown Skaven answered. I thought you were on a diplomatic mission?
- Diplomatic, my ass! In fact... Well, now you can know, sonny: I've never been on a diplomatic mission.
- What are you telling me here?
- The truth, Kit. I've scoured every corner of Vereinbarung, starting at the border with Sueño, with one goal: to find the little horned bastard I let scram at Oropesa.
- What? But then… the letters to my grandfather?
- Coded messages. The "news" actually described my progress, step by step. I searched, I searched… and I found!
A flush of heat swept through Kristofferson's heart. He had to refrain from pulling the screen aside, and shook the Halfling by his shoulders to make him talk faster.
- Do you know where those child-stealers bastards are hiding?
- Precisely! I was about to peek into their den, unfortunately, something unexpected happened.
- What, what?
- The Chaotese, son.
- Shit!
- In fact, while I was observing, a whole procession came out the burrow.
- Which Chaotese? The Purple Hand?
- The sect of Tzeentch? Oh no, nothing to do with! They were berserks of Khorne.
- Khorne? The God of carnages?
- The same. They were led by a tough guy named Lennart Fireblood.
- Lennart Fireblood… Damn, I remember! Brother Arcturus uttered that name during the banquet!
- Well, I can confirm this dude is not usurping his name, nor his rank! He and his band weren't very numerous, but they looked dangerous. Wait, give me a second.
Kristofferson heard the splash of the water of the basin as Nedland came out. A minute later, Nedland stood facing him. He had put his pants back on, but remained shirtless, revealing freshly wrapped bandages that circled his chest.
- Gosh!
- Those rascals didn't miss me, I took an arrow. Fortunately, it just scratched my rind, and I managed to escape them. I thought Shortyleg would have a heart attack! Unfortunately, I couldn't do anything for her!
- "Her"? repeated Kristofferson. Who is "her"?
Nedland swallowed his saliva.
- Sonny… be strong.
- I've been doing this for days, Nedland.
- Well, keep being. Those bastards captured Marjan!
Kristofferson felt his stomach contract violently.
- Marjan?
- I saw her from a distance. She was in bad shape, but alive.
- And Jochen? How was Jochen?
- I don't know, he wasn't in the band.
- They were a whole bunch to make up the Ink Drop Expedition. Are you sure there was no one else among the prisoners?
- I only saw Marjan. But if Jochen is still alive, he must be following them. You know him, he would never abandon his sister.
The brown Skaven slowly massaged his forehead, his eyes closed, to try to keep his calm. But Nedland pressed him in turn.
- I have to see your old man, Kit! Is he in his office?
An incandescent needle stung Kristofferson's heart. He opened his eyes, and saw the Halfling's face stretch back to his own expression.
- My father… is dead, Ned.
The little man choked, coughed several times, and even hit his head. When he caught his breath, his voice was hollow.
- Ranald have mercy… What happened?
- Poisoned by the Purple Hand.
- They infiltrated the Rat Kingdom?
- Yes. Ever since we buried my father, they haven't stopped messing up Steinerburg.
- Sons of a bitch! I understand why you mentioned them earlier! So we have the minions of Khorne and Tzeentch on our backs at the same time?
- We arrested one of their agents, but others are still running.
- Oh yeah? Which agent?
- Brisingr Steadyhand.
- The Fire Magister?
- In person. Romulus has also been arrested.
- Romulus, arrested? Why?
- Compromising elements have been found in his bedroom.
- Romulus cannot be their accomplice!
- That's what we wanted to figure out, but someone got him out of jail before.
- He's too loyal to your grandfather for fleeing! He got kidnapped!
- Probably, but I don't know by whom. On the other hand, I know that they have a kind of wild animal that has already slaughtered two troublesome witnesses in the Mousetrap.
- By the hairs of the armpits of my great-uncle… With the Tzeentch Chaotese, we must expect the worst treacheries!
One hour later, Prince Steiner presided over a new War Council. Around the table, without counting the Prince, were Kristofferson, Nedland Barnrooster, and Commander Renata. Due to the risk of anyone turning out to be an agent of the Purple Hand, the monarch had summoned the bare minimum of people.
- We're listening to you, Barnrooster. Where are they?
- Most precisely there, your Majesty!
The Halfling fingered the map, pointing to an isolated corner between several cities.
- The Forest of the White Wolf, so named by the first people who recorded this place, a long time ago, I suppose they saw a white wolf there? It is also called "Hvid Ulveskov", in a dialect that mixes Norse and Khazalid. With this kind of name, chances are there are Dwarf settlements in the area.
- Are you sure of yourself, Barnrooster?
- I will confess, your Highness, I didn't have the courage to go down inside their burrow to check, there were already quite a few of them. But it seems very likely to me: I have not seen any Feral Skaven encampment on the surface, in my opinion they have holed up in caves once occupied by Dwarves. This forest is very rocky and rugged, much like that of a mountain. The kind of place particularly appreciated by the Dwarves. From the outside, there is just a large hole in the middle of a clearing.
- However, this place doesn't appear on the map, noticed the Prince. You hadn't spotted this place when you did your topographical surveys?
- I didn't, your Highness. I'm sure those Feral Skaven pierced this tunnel from the inside, and cut down the trees around it to build their own buildings. This forest is large and isolated, there was no one around to spot them. These little field mice have chosen well!
- Can you confirm these Feral Skaven are those who kidnap our children?
- Let Esmeralda rip my eyes off if I'm wrong, your Highness. I saw a group arriving, carrying a cage with Skaven children inside.
- If their base is underground, we will be frankly disadvantaged, observed the commander. They will do everything to stay in their tunnels and refuse to face us in the open.
- We shall force them out, Commander, I already have some ideas in this sense, the Prince answered.
- I add, your Majesty, that I know the name of their chief, I heard them talking among themselves. They're led by Grey Seer Karhi, and I'm ready to bet my ears it is the rat that survived the bullet I fired at it at the Nichetti Estate!
- We'll see if it's this one, Barnrooster, but that's not all. You've told me you saw Chaos marauders, haven't you?
- My word, your Highness. Rogues led by a Chaos Warrior of Khorne, Lennart Fireblood. They were hardly more than twenty, but they looked like much more formidable fighters than the Clanrats of the Under-Empire.
- Do you think their presence could change things a lot for our army?
- I don't know, Commander Renata. Twenty elite warriors can cut a hundred rookies to pieces. Notice, maybe with a little luck, they will be seized with a murderous madness that will push them to hit the Feral Skaven?
- It would be a chance, hoped Steiner. All right, Commander Renata, go assemble all the troops that haven't left for Pourseille, and wait for my instructions.
- At your command, your Highness.
The soldier bowed and started to leave the room, but Kristofferson called her back.
- Wait! Commander, I'm coming with you!
Commander Renata pouted.
- Your grandfather the Prince didn't give me this instruction, sir.
- Lady Marjan Gottlieb is their prisoner, and I want to save her!
The Prince shook his head.
- I'm sorry, boy, but I can't let you go there.
Kristofferson felt his fur stand on end.
- Again! Opa, no! You have already refused me to come to her assistance at Wüstengrenze!
- I did, but I had good reasons for that. Just as I have today again.
- Which ones? Father is dead, Sigmund has gone to Pourseille… my best friend is in mortal danger, and I should stay here and twiddle my thumbs?
- No, Kit! You won't twiddle your thumbs. The names of these good reasons are Heike, Bianka, Gabriel and Isolde. All of them do everything to resist all the crap that has come to us since the banquet, in that, they have my whole admiration. But you're the only one who can protect them, physically. Not any of them, no matter how strong-willed, knows how to handle a weapon – right, Bianka has been taught, but she's too sick to defend herself. And I need to have absolute trust in the person who will be responsible for their protection. You're the only one who can be that person right now.
Tired of still having to confront the princely authority, Kristofferson sank into an armchair, tears in his eyes. The Prince laid a benevolent hand on his shoulder.
- Kit, I implore you: trust me. Marjan is like her mother, she will hold on until our troops arrive. When he's done with Vaucanson, Sigmund will join Commander Renata's forces. We should have enough soldiers to be able to crush these Feral Skaven. But I'm willing to bet my own head that the Purple Hand will take advantage of this to make us a new viciousness. By staying at the mansion, you can anticipate and defend others.
- I can even tell you how! Nedland interjected.
The Halfling looked at the Prince with a determined twinkle in his eye. For the first time in a long time, he spoke without any humorous intent.
- I spoke with your daughter before joining you. I have been devastated by all the suffering your family has endured since Prospero's…end. You can boast of having nice people as children and grandchildren, your Lordship. People I care about, and that I don't like to see bruised this way at all. It pisses me off. As the late brave Commander Schmetterling kindly reminded, I am not a distinguished gentleman, but a small-time, a thug. And as a thug, I won't hesitate to use any means, even the most vile, to extricate these vipers from their hole and crush them under my heels, Ranald be my witness!
Then he addressed Kristofferson.
- Cheer up, we shall reverse the situation.
- Where to start? the brown Skaven replied. We have no more leads!
- Maybe you don't, but don't forget who I am! I have buddies all over the places where heretics used to hide their ass. Give me a few hours, maybe a couple of days, and I promise we'll find our mockingbirds!
- Do not throw yourself headlong on them, warned the Prince. It would be better to be strategic in order to surprise them effectively.
- Don't worry, your Highness. I'll just spot them. Then your grandson will help me corner them intelligently. Besides, I take this opportunity to ask you another question: can we trust Walter Klingmann?
- Beyond doubt, Kristofferson replied.
- Well, we'll put him in the picture too, then.
- He's already in, and in my opinion, he will not be asked to participate in this operation. He too has had his share of misery because of the Purple Hand.
The treasurer chuckled and rubbed his hands.
- Great! I love working with motivated people!
The Steiner property had several reception rooms. One, particularly large, was used for banquets, it was the one where the last reception supper had tragically ended. The smallest could accommodate half a dozen people. This room was simple, with just a few summary decorations, and a single window that overlooked the park, at the back of the property.
Kristofferson was the first to get in. He was surprised to see no one. However, he could still hear the corporal giving him the instruction: "His Majesty the Prince wishes to speak with you about a subject of capital importance in the Whispers Room, he will be waiting for you there at about three o'clock". The Whispers Room… such was the nickname given to this room, so named because you never raised your voice there. Well, that was what was being said within the walls of the Steiner estate.
In an adjoining room, the clock chimed three times through the wall. The brown Skaven sat casually on one of the armchairs, and waited. It was not in the habit of his grandfather to be late, but after all, in these troubled times, many habits had already been shaken.
The door opened, and Heike came in turn.
- Kit, honey, you're there?
- I am, Mother. Opa asked me to come.
- Did he? Me too.
The wooden floor creaked behind the ratmother. Heike turned around, and saw her father.
- Oh, there you are!
- Indeed. Were you waiting for me?
- Um… yes?
- Magdalena told me that I had to check something in the Whispers Room.
- You mean you didn't call us?
- I never. What about you Kit? I would have asked you to come here, too?
- Corporal Schultz passed the word on to me.
Instinctively, Kristofferson put his hand on the pommel of his rapier just as the door leading to one of the stairs at the end of the hall opened. He recognized one of the servants, Legré, who approached.
- Your Highness, a peasant couple wants to talk to you. They claim to have received an urgent missive from you.
The Prince frowned.
- Oh, really? Right. Kit, bring them here.
- Fine, Opa.
- But stay on your guard, just to be sure.
The brown Skaven allowed himself a cynical joke.
- Do you think these are two Demons who would have taken their appearance?
- As it is right now, nothing can surprise me anymore. Go!
Then he spoke to his valet.
- Thank you, Legré. You can dismiss.
The Skaven bowed, and disappeared. A minute later Kristofferson was back, followed by Gustavus and Erika Finston. Fear and fatigue were still visible on the faces of the two peasants.
- Hello, Master Finston. Hello, Lady Finston.
The two peasants bowed.
- May Taal n' Rhya watch over ya, ya'r Majesty.
With a gesture, the monarch invited the two peasants to sit down.
- Please, take a seat.
Erika sat down next to Heike, who held her hand, and her husband occupied the chair at her other side.
- So, I asked you to come, you say?
- Eeyup, your Highness, answered Erika. That's what ya said in yar letter, didn't ya?
- My letter? Steiner repeated.
- Yes. This mornin', one of yar servants came to Esmeralda's Blessing. He ask'd to speak to mah mate. Gave him a message. Show him, Gustavus!
The young father took an envelope with a broken seal from his pocket. Kristofferson held out his hand.
- Give me this, I check.
He first looked at the envelope from all angles.
- There are a few pieces of wax from the seal, but I don't see any engraved sign in it. Did you see if the Prince's seal was carved on it, Master Finston?
- Nope, ah was in too much of a hurry to open it, Monsignor.
- We had to ask your valet to read it to us, your Highness, since we don't get anything with of letters, Erika confessed, a little embarrassed.
The brown Skaven carefully sniffed the paper, looking for any poison. Ludwig Steiner explained to the peasants:
- Someone gathered us here pretending to be me. We have all received this instruction under false pretences. Kristofferson, are you done?
- Yes, Opa. There is nothing suspicious.
- Perfect.
He held out his hand. Kristofferson handed him the envelope. The Prince pulled out from a sheet of paper on which simple instructions had been scribbled nervously.
- Hum… I recognize this handwriting, but I admit I have trouble understanding?
- Who wrote this letter? Heike asked in an anguished voice.
- Well, my child, it is...
- Me!
Everyone simultaneously turned their heads towards the front door. Everyone's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Gabriel. The small, light grey Skaven stepped forward, looking very unusually bold.
- I brought you all here!
- Why did you, big boy? asked the Prince, taken aback.
- Because… because… because I have something to confess. Something terrible. And it's about the Finstons.
The two peasants flinched, incredulous.
- What are you talkin' abat, son?
- Wait, Master Finston, interrupted Heike. Please don't rush him, I can feel it, it's already very difficult for him.
Indeed, the young ratboy was already shaking. But he closed his eyes, breathed slowly, and when he lifted his eyelids, he seemed less nervous. He focused his pupils on the Finstons, and uttered:
- It's my fault.
- What?
- What happened to Emil is my fault.
The Prince felt an icy sweat dampen his shirt at those words.
- What do you mean? What are you talking about?
The young parents were twice as insistent.
- What? What have ya done?
- Speak up, kiddo! What have ya got to do with ar little one?
Gabriel took a deep breath, and explained:
- I snuck into Father's little private chapel. You know, he used to pray to the Horned Rat. I asked the Horned Rat to find Emil and take him, to make him one of his chosen ones. I told him his name, and the name of the village where you live.
No one moved, no one breathed a word. Everyone was literally petrified by these words. For a few seconds of eternity, Gabriel felt the five pairs of eyes trained on him staring at him with such intensity that he felt himself ignite.
The Finstons were the first to react. Gustavus stood up, immediately followed by his wife.
- So, what? What are you sayin'?
- Gustavus… it can't be true!?
- What have ya been told to this Horn'd Rat? Say again!
- The Dark Gods… have…
Erika rolled her eyes, and threatened to fall back. Heike only had time to catch her to prevent her from falling. The farmer exploded in anger.
- Why did ya do that? Ya little imp! Ah swear…
Gabriel yelled, and jumped back, crossing his arms before his head. Gustavus raised his fist, but the Prince caught his wrist.
- No! Do not do that.
- Lemme go!
Gustavus struggled, but he spun around, realizing who was holding him back. Immediately, he fell to his knees.
- Your Highness, ah swear! How ah beg your pardon!
- Come on, it's nothing, Finston. I know it is very difficult, but I ask you to calm down.
- Do what he says, Gustavus! groaned Erika, who had regained consciousness. Ah don't want you to end up in jail!
- Calm down, Lady Finston. No one shall end up in jail.
It took a few long seconds for silence to come back to the small living room. Once sure he had everyone's attention, Steiner whispered:
- Do you remember what Heike told the day you came to see me? A few years ago, a very ill-intentioned White Skaven kidnapped her in front of me. I was terribly afraid for her, I was furious against myself for not having been able to prevent it, but I didn't flinch. And we managed to save her, keeping our cool and acting smart and bold. You, Master Finston, are as brave as I am. You can be just as strong. Other children were abducted. It is my vassals that are removed. I swear to you, on the Scales of Verena, on the Bleeding Heart of Shallya, that from this minute on, I will do absolutely everything to bring them back safe and sound, including your son. I already made you this promise when you arrived here, it is true, except that this time, I can keep my promise; we had no concrete leads, but things have changed. Thanks to Master Barnrooster, we finally know where these Feral Skaven are hiding. We'll therefore be able to take action, and launch an assault on their lair. We will free all children. In the meantime, we will temporarily install you here, so you'll recover from these emotions, in a guest room. Kristofferson will bring you there. Kit? Take them to the Lilac room.
- Right away, Opa.
- Try to rest. Meanwhile, my daughter and I will clarify things with my grandson. I too would like to know why he "did that"?
Hearing those words, Gabriel felt his fur bristle with apprehension.
No one will end up in jail? Truly? But worse can happen to me!
He jumped when the door closed behind him. Now he was caught in the trap. A trap set by himself, which he would have to assume.
- Sit down, there's room, whispered the soft voice of his grandfather.
The little rat-boy swallowed his saliva, and obeyed. The Prince cleared his throat, and without raising his tune, asked:
- Now tell me, my little one: usually, you are a nice boy, very intelligent, very educated, and well brought up. I want you to explain to me how someone like you could wish for the disappearance of an innocent, little child who doesn't even know you?
- I… I wanted to change things. I believed... I believed he would have a better life at the Feral Skaven's, they would have adored and revered him.
The Prince's forehead creased.
- You've never met the Feral Skaven, but you know how they live. Your father and your mother have told you stories about them several times, you saw a few months ago what they are capable of doing, and yet you thought you were rending the Finstons a service? Didn't you think they could be devastated if their son fell into the clutches of the Feral Skaven?
- Maybe… But… I thought everyone would be happy…
- "Everyone" is especially you, Gabriel. Recognize it. You're too smart to think of doing a good deed by wishing to see Emil taken away by the Feral Skaven. No, in fact, you wanted him to disappear. Either way, that little White Skaven was disturbing you.
Gabriel didn't have the energy to respond. His throat was too sore. But his silence was eloquent enough. Her mother frowned.
- So that wasn't very nice of you, Gabriel.
- I know it well, Mother! But I... I was very scared!
- By what? What scared you? How can a baby from a peasant family scare you?
Gab sniffled, looked up, and muttered:
- "How would you like to create-manage a College of Jade?"
Heike winced as he recognized the master mage's words. She turned to her father, who remained puzzled.
- You weren't there when it happened, but it's something Psody said to Emil when the Finstons came over for tea.
- Did he?
The tall Human leaned forward and asked:
- Gabriel, I think I understood what that implies, but I need to be sure: can you tell me why you said these words?
No more bias or silence, but that was what he wanted. He felt animated by a new force which was going to allow him to empty himself. Once again, he took a deep breath, and spoke:
- I've never been used for anything. I am incapable of anything. Just making weapons that only serve to hurt and destroy. People risk their lives using them, and others die because of them. "Gabriel, craft a rifle that can fire several times without reloading it", "Gabriel, find a way to make the foundations of a guard tower crumble"... Nothing but inventions that kill and destroy. And I don't do anything else. But I'm tired of being a weaponsmith! Science is not made to kill! It's made to help people! Alas, every time I try to do science to help people, it's always the same thing! I have to change my inventions to turn them into weapons, more weapons, always weapons! Without my weapons, I am nothing, and I am of no interest to anyone! And with the new baby coming, and with Emil, you don't even see me anymore! No one sees me anymore! So I hoped Emil wouldn't come and give Father what I never could give him! I hoped Father would take a little more interest in me! And now… now Father is dead! And the Feral Skaven kidnapped Emil! How I regret!
He muttered the first few words, but his voice gradually rose until it became high-pitched. He collapsed in tears on the carpet, and curled up, his head wedged under his hands.
- That's what I've expected, the Prince observed. It's only jealousy.
- But there was nothing to be jealous of, Father! We have always raised our children with the same attention!
- I know it, but your son didn't understand it, apparently. You must not blame yourself, my angel. Gabriel has his personality. It makes him see things in the wrong way, especially since he has to deal with the distorting prism of adolescence.
The two adults waited. When Gabriel stopped crying, he struggled to his feet. Ready to receive everything, he looked at his mother, then his grandfather. But, oddly, neither seemed about to unleash any punitive fury on him.
Heike sighed.
- Listen, honey, it doesn't matter so much.
- Your mother is right, Gab.
The Prince dared not let it show, but deep down inside himself, he had just felt relieved of a very heavy weight. For a fleeting moment, he had imagined his grandson hatching plans to cause a lethal accident to the White Skaven baby, or worse, cooperate with the chief of the child abductors by deliberately delivering Emil to him. What was only a terrible coincidence seemed to him to be a release. Gabriel, although jealous, had nothing to do with this kidnapping.
- You imagined things that are not true, it scared you, and it made you do anything. I don't forget you're very young, and you have irritable nerves, too. I'm not angry. But I'm still sorry; why have you kept everything to yourself for so long, if it gave you enough grief to make a prayer to a God who is forbidden to you? You should have spoken about it with your parents, Gab! Or, if you were afraid of their reaction, I was there. We could have had a men's conversation! Speaking sincerely as you have just done, provided it is done in the right conditions, is the best way to resolve all conflicts, and even better, to avoid them! So why didn't you say everything you had on your mind before all this happened?
Suddenly, he realized something else that directly concerned him. The answer came by its own.
- No… There is something else, Gab. Your fear of grown-ups handicapped you too much for that, and you remained silent, but I, on my side, played the blind man.
He turned to his daughter.
- All this time, I've been encouraging your son to design war machines, while his father advised me not to do so. I also have my share of responsibility in this matter.
Heike sighed, both saddened and relieved.
- Thank you for finally understanding, Father.
- Yes, but I don't really deserve your thanks.
He opened a cupboard where bottles of various spirits were stored, and poured himself a glass of elven wine. Heike took the opportunity to take her son in her arms. She kissed him, and whispered in his ear:
- Gab, listen to me very carefully: never, never was question ever of loving you less, even less of replacing you. From the beginning. In fact, we should have been more careful. You need more signs of affection than your siblings, and I haven't worried about that. You got scared, and you started thinking those bad things. But I would like you to understand once for all you have nothing to be afraid of. You are our son, Gabriel, our child, and you will always be!
He turned away from her, crouched down, and buried his face in his hands.
- I… I'm not white!
- So what? Do you think, because Emil is a White Skaven, he should receive more love from Psody than you? No, no, no! Your father had offered to help his parents with questions about magic, but for the rest... you can't compare to what he feels for you! Gab, since the first day, since the first time he held you in his hands, he loves you... well, he loved you madly, just as you are! When he hugged you to his heart, he was overjoyed, and I can even tell you he was relieved, too.
Gabriel looked up, and his gaze became questioning. His mother continued:
- He was! When Sigmund and your big sister were born, I joked that the next child might be white, since we had a Black one. But as he learned I was carrying you, your father felt really badly! Each White Skaven must be able to bear a terrible burden, and their life turns out to be much more complicated than that of "normal" people. And for their parents, it is far from easy. That's why we called your big sister "Bianka". Do you remember what that means? "White" in Tilean. We did it to thank the Gods for not imposing such a constraint on us, and also to link her by her name to her twin. Emil shall not live an idyllic existence every day. He'll have nightmares, mood swings, maybe he can unleash magic accidentally someday. But with you, there is none of that. Nor with Isolde. When you were both born, Psody was doubly happy to have children who didn't carry his heritage!
His grandfather knelt down to be as the same size as the little light grey Skaven. He put his hand on his shoulder.
- My little Gab, I have a lot of respect for the Finstons, but I think they are more superstitious than they should be. I don't think what happened to Emil is your fault. The Horned Rat would not have granted the wish of a jealous child who prays to the Human Gods. If that was really his will, it would have happened with or without your prayer. It's not your fault.
- You… you believe, Opa?
- I'm sure. You don't have to feel guilty.
- But the Horned Rat took Father after my request!
- No, a Purple Hand assassin did, not the Feral Skaven. It's not your fault either.
- I did wrong, Opa… Verena will curse me for that!
- Verena also knows how to forgive the mistakes of a thoughtless child, especially when this child does everything to fix his mistakes. You can now change the course of things, if you wish.
- I… but how?
- Thanks to your brain which is able to create incredible machines. Of course, because of me, you have mainly developed weapons, but I know that you can do other equally useful things. Things the Feral Skaven don't have, and which will therefore give us an advantage. You can do it. For me, for your mother, and especially for Emil.
- For… Emil?
- Yes. You've seen how worried his parents are now?
- I have, Opa.
- Do you wish to leave them in such fear?
This time, Gabriel took the time to think, about ten seconds, during which his face gradually changed expression, passing from an abyssal shame to a deep determination. Finally, he dared to look the Prince in the eyes, and said firmly:
- No! I want to help them, too!
- So, now it is time to act. This kid needs you, Gab. He needs your genius. We won't be able to bring him back by attacking head-on. Karhi won't want to take the risk Emil might be taken back alive, he will kill him before. We'll have to trick him, and surprise him. We'll have to use inventions. Your inventions, created by your intelligence.