Chapter 7

"Report?"

"The camp is ahead sir, about 5 miles away, at the base of the valley. We should reach it by late afternoon."

"Very good, anything else?"

"No Sir the land around is quiet no sign of anything unusual."

"That will be all soldier. Go and get yourself a fresh mount before heading back out."

Saluting the scout turned away from Stefan and rode down the column towards the baggage train where the fresh mounts were tethered.

"Well, that is good news, be nice to have a spot of hot grub this evening."

Turning his head Stefan replied,

"I wouldn't get your hopes up too high First Sergeant this is a temporary camp; I doubt their rations are much more extravagant than ours. As far as I know we should be the last of the reinforcements to arrive. Once we have reported in, I wouldn't be surprised if the general in charge breaks camp in the morning, not sense in idling here anymore."

"Right you are Sir. And this general, Sir, do we know much about him?" Kurt's tone was nonchalant but Stefan knew his friend well enough by now to sense the unspoken nature of the question.

"Not much I'm afraid. Lord Varus, a minor baron from somewhere near to Eihart I think."

"Ah nobility, I wonder which type he will be?"

In truth Stefan hadn't given their new commander much thought. He had simply been given his orders and carried them out. The complexities of Imperial politics and birth right had never applied to him before so he had simply ignored them up to now.

"Don't let the men hear you saying that Kurt," Stefan admonished, "regardless we have our orders and that means that from this evening we will be his to order as he sees fit."

"Ours is not to question why, right you are Sir."

Checking to make sure they were out of earshot of the following column Kurt continued:

"And if you don't mind me saying so, Sir, this march has done wonders for your constitution. You're looking far haler and heartier now than when we set out!".

Stefan didn't need to look to look at him to see the grin on Kurt's face and he felt his neck flush red. Stefan's memory of the night's festivities in Altdorf, after a certain point, were hazy at best. He could remember more drinks being ordered and more tales being told as he got to know the men now serving under his command. After that there had been a drunken wager, something to do with holding his ale, and then his next memory was a vague recollection of being carried back to barracks by the Sergeants, singing to the gate sentries as they did so. Awakening the following morning in his billet Stefan wished the ground would open and swallow him whole but his embarrassment was short-lived as his body suddenly informed his mind of how incredibly hungover it was.

Standing in the Captain's office receiving his orders it had taken all Stefan's willpower to stay standing. If the Captain had noticed his distress he passed no comment on it instead he had outlined his new orders.

"Your unit is to march immediately to the Vorbergland to link up with a Baron Varus who has been given command of a force to take into the Grey Mountains. We have received information from the dwarves there that greenskins numbers are on the rise. Our dwarven friends think it likely that a new warboss may be gathering a horde. With our forces heavily committed elsewhere we can't afford to sit and wait for another invasion. To that end the Baron has been tasked with leading a pre-emptive strike. With a bit of luck, we may find and kill the warboss or at the very least weaken them enough to prevent them from threatening us again any time soon. I want you to make haste Stefan, an aide will bring you the maps before you leave showing where the Baron is meant to be encamped. Once there you are to put yourself under his command until the termination of the campaign. Any questions?"

Stefan had nodded slowly, scared he might lose his balance if he moved too fast and gingerly made his way out of the Captain's office. He had gathered those few bits necessary for a soldier on campaign before briefing the sergeants on their destination. The entire time he had felt like throwing up while the sergeants looked as fresh as new recruits on the muster field. Thankfully there were no questions or knowing glances and the men were assembled and marching from Altdorf within hours of Stefan receiving the orders. The first sergeant had set a brisk pace on the column and Stefan found that as the morning wore on the fresh air and exertion began to clear away the ill effects of his revelries and by the mid-day halt he felt much more like his old self again.

"Thank you for that First Sergeant, your concern for my health is duly noted, it must have been something I ate before we left not agreeing with me", Stefan replied drily.

A low chuckle was all he heard in response as they continued onward determined to make it to the Imperial camp before nightfall.

…..

Entering the Imperial camp Stefan made sure his men were being shown to their bivouacs by the quartermaster aides before making his way towards the command tent. He knew Kurt and the other Sergeants would ensure the men were fed and settled and ready to move again when the orders to break camp were given. For now, he had to present himself to the Baron and receive his new orders. Making his way to the centre of the camp Stefan could see a larger tent set up on a slight rise with an awning extending out from its entrance. Below the awning a large table had been set up and was currently surrounded by a group of Imperial officers all looking at a map laid out before them. At their centre stood a short man with an impressive moustache waxed to a fine curl either side of his nose. As Stefan approached he was challenged and admitted by the guards before coming to stand at attention before the table. The short man, who Stefan assumed to be the Baron, looked at him before making an imperious hand gesture.

"Stefan Von Kleist, Sir. Officer commanding the Reikland 95th reporting as ordered".

As he saluted Stefan handed over his orders given to him by the Captain before he left Altdorf. An aide took them from him and handed them to the short man, confirming that he was indeed Baron Varus. The moustachioed Baron barely glanced at the orders before casting a critical glance over Stefan.

"Ah yes, I have heard of you Von Kleist. The favoured protégé of captain Schulz. Tell me is it true that you are a commoner? Promoted from the ranks?

Stefan was caught completely by surprise. The Baron's condescending tone and disapproving gaze had made Stefan the centre of attention for the gathered officers who had all turned to regard the newcomer in their midst. Some appeared to regard him with a haughty disdain but one or two bore sympathetic expressions to his plight. Still standing at attention Stefan tried to keep his tone neutral as he answered.

"Yes Sir that is correct. I was a trooper in the 90th Reik spears regiment. I was promoted after a battle with invading greenskins."

"How very novel. Pray tell Herr Kleist what did you do during this battle that got you noticed so?"

Again Stefan had to fight not to let his irritation at the Baron's condescension show on his features as he replied.

"I helped to slay the orc warbands leader, Sir, helping to end the battle."

"Is that so?" the Baron's tone made clear how little he believed the answer. "No doubt you played a critical part in its demise", this time the Baron didn't bother to hide the sneer on his face as cast his judgement.

Turning to address his assembled officers the Baron continued,

"It has always been my opinion that the common man is best led by those of noble birth. Our station in life best places us to make those choices that are for the good of the Empire. The common man cannot be expected nor trusted to act above his own base interests."

Some of the assembled officers made noises of agreement with the Baron's haughty statement but more than a few stayed silent.

"What would you say to that Herr Kleist?" the Baron asked with a grin that did not reach his eyes.

Stefan felt the back of his neck flush hot with embarrassment. Instinctively he opened his mouth to refute the claim but he paused as he caught sight of the anticipatory gleam in the Baron's eyes. A moment of perception dawned on Stefan as he realised what was occurring. The Baron was baiting him. He wanted to sting Stefan's pride, anger him and make him say something not befitting his rank. By doing so he would prove the Baron right and shame himself in front of the gathered officers. Pausing to take a breath Stefan replied,

"I'm afraid such learned musings are beyond me Sir. I would have to bow to your Grace's esteemed knowledge in such matters. I am but a soldier in the Emperors service."

The Baron's face creased with annoyance at the answer. Anger at being denied his petty victory colouring his features for a moment before he composed himself again.

"Indeed I should have expected as much. Stand at ease and join us if you must."

Stefan finally relaxed from attention and moved to the edge of the group of officers clustered around the table taking care to place himself out of the Baron's immediate eyeline. Most of the officers ignored him utterly but Stefan found one in particular looking to catch his eye. A heavy set man with thick red side burns inclined his head a fraction as he caught Stefan's gaze. Stefan had no time to ponder the gesture as the Baron began speaking again.

"As I was saying, now that we are all finally here we can go about carrying out our emperor given orders. We shall break camp in the morning and march into the mountains here. Our quarry as you know are filthy greenskins, no match for our soldiery. The ignorant brutes will likely flee in fear before our host but nevertheless we will pursue and crush them. Any questions?"

"Are we to wait for the promised dwarven scouts to arrive Sir, before we venture into the mountains?" a young looking officer with blond hair asked neutrally.

Judging by his age and appearance Stefan judged him to be a pistolier and the Baron's next words confirmed his suspicions.

"I think we have waited here long enough don't you, young Dietrich? The dwarves can catch us up on the march and in the meantime your fine fellows can provide all the scouting we need."

"With respect your Grace my boys are not mountain men and our horses won't be much use to us in the passes."

"Nonsense! You underestimate your abilities I think! Now any other questions?"

Stefan watched the young pistolier officer purse his lips but he didn't protest further simply nodding and continuing to look at the map. None of the other officers spoke and with a clap of his hands the Baron continued,

"That's settled then. Look to your men and have them ready to move at first light. My aides will give you the order of march as you leave. But while I have you….Herr Kleist, perhaps your men would take the honour of taking up the rear-guard? A suitable role for someone of your background no?"

Again the Baron didn't bother to hide his smirk as he stared archly at Stefan, goading him again for a reaction. Refusing to acknowledge the insult Stefan simply clicked his heels and nodded moving to follow the other officers leaving the tent, most of whom now looked faintly embarrassed by the Baron's pettiness. It was only when he had passed the guards and headed back towards his men that Stefan finally allowed his emotions to show. Stefan was aware of the classism inherent in the Empire, Sigmar knows he had seen it enough times among his fellow officer cadets at the academy, but he had always assumed that soldiers were soldiers and that was enough. To be targeted for ridicule and derision directly, as the Baron had done, at first made him ashamed but soon those feelings turned to anger. He replayed the scene again in his mind his frustration growing with each remembered slight So when he heard his name being called from behind it was with clenched fists and a dark expression that he turned to confront whoever had the gall to accost him now.

"Whoa easy there Herr Kleist, I come in peace!"

Stefan's ill temper evaporated as quickly as it had started as he beheld the officer who had caught his eye back at the command tent.

"Luthor Ansel, 71st Black Cheeks, at your service." The man bowed slightly with a broad smile.

Bowing in return Stefan took the opportunity to get a proper look at the man. As he noticed before the man was tall and well built. Fiery coloured red hair peeked from below his cloth cap and ran down in two bushy sideburns. He stood easy but Stefan could tell in the way he held himself that this man was no dandy.

"Stefan Von Kleist, Reikland 95th, as you and everyone else now knows", Stefan couldn't hide his grimace as he put out his hand in greeting.

"A pleasure", Luthor replied grasping Stefan's hand firmly. "And I wouldn't dwell on that too much. I thought you handled it quite well if I'm honest. Our new commander seems just the sort to bear a grudge so probably for the best that you didn't rise to the bait."

Despite his sour mood Stefan found himself chuckling at the other man's honesty and replied,

"I'll keep that in mind. Black Cheeks you said? A handgunner regiment? If you'll forgive me mein Herr you look more like a swordsman than a handgunner?"

Chuckling in return Luthor replied,

"And an eye for detail I see, I like that! Indeed I didn't start out where I am now but once I first used my handgun I knew that it and I would never part. My lads aren't famous like those from Nuln but they know which end to shoot with and we've been known to get the job done."

Stefan found himself warming to the man and on impulse asked,

"Perhaps I could tempt you with a hot meal and a cup of something to slake your thirst before you retire to your men Herr Ansel? It would be my honour to show you around the 95th, such as it is"

"Now that sounds like the best plan I've heard all evening. My lads have been in camp long enough no doubt they know our orders already without needing me to tell them", Luthor joked. "By all means lead on Herr Kleist!"