Lurk covered his mouth with a paw to prevent a snigger escaping; at least one other skaven had realised what was going on.
“No! No!” Izak Grottle said. “I and my rat-ogres are ideally suited for this task. We will overwhelm all—”
Grottle’s words were drowned out by the shouts of all the other skaven volunteers. Thanquol let them call out for a few minutes before silencing them with a gesture.
“Unfortunately, it will require my potent sorcery to effect entrance to the palace. I must be present.”
“Then I will gladly lay down my life to guard you,” Izak Grottle said, obviously determined to be present to share in the triumph.
“And I,” Heskit One Eye said.
“And I,” shouted every other skaven present, save Lurk.
“No! No! I appreciate your concern, brother skaven, but your leadership will be required on other, no-less-critical parts of the battlefield.”
It was obvious that Thanquol intended to share his glorious triumph with no one. The assembled war leaders subsided into disappointed chittering.
“I have here a route map, and a schedule for each of you, inscribed with precise instructions. All of you, that is, except for Lurk Snitchtongue. I would have a word with Lurk in private.”
Lurk felt his heart start to race, and it was all he could do to prevent himself squirting the musk of fear. Had the grey seer found out about his plotting with the three clan representatives? Was he about to enact some terrible revenge? Was there any way Lurk could avoid this meeting?
He turned desperate eyes on his three co-conspirators and saw that they glared at him evilly. If looks could kill, Lurk knew, those three would have put him in a coffin. They feared he would betray them to save his own skin—and of course they were right.
As the war leaders trooped forward one by one to receive the grey seer’s blessing and their final instructions, Lurk prayed to the Horned Rat to preserve him.
Felix wandered around until he arrived at his brother’s townhouse. He was not surprised to see that it was locked and guarded. He was surprised to find that Otto and his wife had not fled the city, and furthermore that the guards recognised him and allowed him to pass.
Otto waited in his study to greet him. He was still working, inscribing things in his ledgers and writing dispatches that might never be received, intended for other branches of the Jaeger businesses. Felix was strangely proud of him at that moment. It took a great deal of courage to continue to work under these trying circumstances.
“What can I do for you, Felix?” Otto asked, without looking up.
“Nothing. I just came by to see how you were.”
“Fine!” Otto gave a wan smile. “Business is booming.”
“Is it?”
“Of course not! Rats are eating the stock. The workers are stealing everything that isn’t nailed down. The customers are dying of the plague.”
“Why haven’t you left town?”
“Someone has to remain and look after our interests. This will all pass, you know. Disturbances always do. Then there’ll be the business of rebuilding. Folk will need wool and timber and building materials. They’ll need luxury goods to replace what’s been looted. They’ll need credit to buy it all. And when they do, Jaegers of Altdorf will still be here.”
“I’ll bet you will.”
“And what about you?” Otto asked, looking up at last.
“I’m waiting to see the end of this all. I’m waiting for the skaven to show themselves.”
“You think they will?”
“I’m sure of it. I’m certain that this is all their doing somehow.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Felix looked at his brother long and hard. “Can you keep secrets?”
“You know I can.”
Felix decided that it was true. In his business Otto would need a great deal of discretion.
“What I’m going to tell you could get me hanged or burned at the stake.”
“What you and the dwarf did in Altdorf could get you that already. You’re a long way from the capital, Felix, and I’m not going to turn you in.”
Felix guessed that was true, and somehow he felt a need to tell someone exactly what had happened. So he told Otto the full tale of his encounters with the skaven, from the first day in the sewer to the last battle on the barge. He omitted nothing, including his duel with von Halstadt. Otto looked at him with an expression that went from incredulity to seriousness to, finally, belief.
“You’re not making this up, are you?”
“No.”
“You always did take those hero tales you read too seriously, little brother.”
Felix smiled and Otto smiled back. “I did, didn’t I?”
“What is it like, living in one?”
“Not what I expected. Not what I expected at all.” Felix decided it was time to say what he had come to say.
“Otto—I think you and your wife should leave the city. I think the skaven are going to come soon, and that things will not be pleasant.”
Otto laughed. “We have armed servants and this house is a fortress, Felix. We will be much safer here than in the country.”
Felix knew his brother well enough to understand that there would be no persuading him. “You know your own business best,” he said.
Otto nodded. “Now come eat, man. I can hear your stomach rumbling from here.”
“What is it, mightiest of mages? What do you require?”
Lurk Snitchtongue bowed and scraped before Grey Seer Thanquol, searching for the words that would save him. He felt sure that the grey seer’s supernatural powers had enabled him to see Lurk’s treachery and that now he was going to be punished. The terrible glow of warpstone still filled Thanquol’s eyes, and Lurk could almost sense the dark energies that seethed within him.
“It concerns Vilebroth Null,” Grey Seer Thanquol said with an evil smile.
Lurk felt his musk glands contract. He would have spoken then but his tongue was tied. It felt like it had suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth. All he could do was nod his head in a guilty fashion.
“And Heskit One Eye,” Thanquol said, his malevolent grin stretching still further.
A plea for mercy stuck in Lurk’s throat. He tried to force it out but it just would not come.
“And Izak Grottle,” Thanquol added. His burning eyes held Lurk pinned to the spot.
The smaller skaven felt like a bird paralysed before the gaze of a serpent. He nodded again and fell to his knees, paws clutched before him in a gesture of abasement.
“Get up! Get up!” Thanquol said. “They are not so fearsome. No! Not at all. Now is the time to be rid of them once and for all and you will help me do it!”
“Get rid of them, mightiest of masters?”
“Yes! Did you see the way they questioned me when I was giving orders to the army? Did you see the way they tried to steal the glory from my brilliant plan? My mind is made up! I will tolerate them no longer. This night they will die!”
“How? How, lord of seers? Will you blast them with magic?”
“No! No! Idiot! My hands must remain clean. No—we will use the tried and tested method. I will inform my two pawns of their whereabouts. This evening, when the battle comes, my enemies will meet with the dwarf’s axe. Then, hopefully, the rest of their force will bring down that interfering twosome.”
“How will you engineer this, cleverest of conspirators?”
“I have assigned all three to one strike group. Its place of emergence is very close to the burrow where Jaeger and Gurnisson and a horde of mercenaries dwell. You are also assigned to that group. You will go through first, on pretext of scouting, and you will warn that horrid pair of what is about to occur!”
“Yes! Yes! Consider it done, most supreme of schemers!”
“Take this message and see that it is delivered. Then flee to my presence and I will see that you are… suitably rewarded for your loyalty!”
Lurk did not
like the emphasis the grey seer put on that last phrase at all, but he took the letter and, still bowing, backed from Thanquol’s presence.
Felix rang Drexler’s doorbell more from hope than any real belief that the doctor would be there, so he was pleasantly surprised when the viewing slot was opened and a servant peered out.
“Oh, it’s you, Herr Jaeger,” he said. “Are you alone?”
“Yes, and I would speak with your master.”
“Best come in then.” Felix heard bolts being thrown and the door creak open. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that no bandits were poised to take advantage of the situation, then hurried through. The servant slammed the door behind him.
Felix strode through the corridors of the doctor’s mansion. It felt like years since he had first come here with Elissa, though in fact it had only been weeks. How had things changed so quickly, he asked himself, suppressing a flash of loneliness and sadness at the thought the woman was gone. He shook his head and smiled sadly, knowing that her departure was one of the reasons why he was here. He was just moving around to keep himself busy and avoid thinking about things.
The servant showed him into Drexler’s study. The doctor sat by his fire, looking drained and weary. Weeks of treating plague victims had obviously taken something out of him. There were lines on his face that had not been there when Felix had last seen him, and a hint of pallor beneath his tan.
“Herr Jaeger, what can I do for you?”
“I’ve brought back your book,” Felix said, producing the doctor’s copy of Leiber’s work. “I would have returned it sooner, but I have been very busy.”
The doctor smiled wanly. “So Herr Ostwald has told me. It seems Aldred chose a worthy successor for ownership of his blade.”
“I’m not so convinced,” Felix said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the city. “All of my and Gotrek’s efforts seem to have come to naught.”
“Do not be sure of that, Herr Jaeger. What man can tell of all the consequences of his actions? It may be that things would be a lot worse without your intervention.”
“I wish I could believe that but I do not think it is so.”
“Only Sigmar can judge a man’s actions, Herr Jaeger, and I believe that in some ways he smiles upon you and your friend. You are still here, aren’t you? How many others would be able to say the same if they had undergone your adventures? I know I could not.”
Felix looked at him, struck by the fact that there was some truth in the man’s words. “You are a good doctor, Herr Drexler. I feel better just for talking to you.”
“Perhaps you should wait until you see my bill before you thank me,” Drexler said. His smile showed that he was joking. “You found what you wanted in the book?”
Felix set it down on the table. “More than I ever wanted. I’m not sure that it helps knowing how evil and depraved the rat-men are.”
“Again, Herr Jaeger, who knows what knowledge might prove useful? Have some food. I have managed to preserve something from the afflictions of our city.”
Felix thought guiltily of the meal which he had already eaten at Otto’s. His stomach felt full but well, on the other hand he had no idea when he might eat again. If Gotrek’s theory about the skaven’s imminent onslaught was going to be correct, he was going to need all his strength. “Why not?” he said. “It may be the last meal I get!”
“Why do you say that?” Drexler asked, and Felix decided that now was the time to deliver his warning.
“Because I believe that the skaven will attack the city soon. I also think that you should leave. I say this as a friend.”
“I thank you for the warning, Herr Jaeger, but I cannot go today. You see, tonight I am attending a ball at the palace, in the presence of Elector Countess Emmanuelle herself.”
Somehow the thought sent a shiver running down Felix’s spine.
Lurk knew it was going to be bad when he felt the heavy hand of one of Izak Grottle’s troops on his shoulder and he was hustled unceremoniously into the fat skaven’s palanquin. He found himself looking up into the folds of flesh beneath the chin of the gigantic Moulder packmaster. Grottle’s huge belly virtually pressed him back against the cushions of the palanquin with a life of its own.
“Now where are you going?” Izak Grottle asked. “Where indeed?”
Lurk thought fast. He did not like the hungry gleam that had appeared in the packmaster’s eye. He thought of the letter that he bore for the grey seer. He thought of the disease that threatened to fill his lungs with pus, unless the abbot continued to intervene on his behalf with the Horned Rat. “I was just on my way to see you, most majestic of Moulders.”
“Then it is fortunate I have found you. Tell me, what is it that you are carrying?”
Lurk told him everything. He had expected Izak Grottle to reach out with one podgy hand and snap his neck but the packmaster merely laughed a rich booming laugh. “It would appear the grey seer has been too clever for his own good. You will deliver your message, but it will be one I shall dictate and Heskit One Eye shall write down.”
“As you wish, most potent of all packmasters.”
Felix trudged back towards the Blind Pig, feeling almost too full to move. Over the past few weeks his stomach had shrunk and what once might have been a normal meal now left him feeling bloated. Two such meals in one day made him feel like he was going to explode.
He wore a new herbal talisman given to him by the doctor and he carried another within his pouch for Gotrek. It was a slight reassurance to him. So far, he had not caught the plague, but that might not signify anything. Nobody else he knew had either. Perhaps it was mere chance that had spared them, or perhaps it was the fact that Heinz insisted they kill every last rat they spotted around the Pig. Felix could not even begin to guess. He only knew that he was grateful to Drexler for the gift.
He looked around into the gathering gloom and shivered. The city looked like a mere ghost of the thriving metropolis it had been when he and Gotrek first arrived. Many buildings had burned down. More were empty. No lights shone in most of the tenements. The bustling life of the streets had been replaced by an aura of fear. The only ones likely to be abroad now were predators—and their victims.
He felt the flesh crawl between his shoulder blades, and was suddenly convinced that someone was watching him. He turned his head to look at the mouth of a nearby alley. The whoosh of air alerted him too late. Something hit him on the skull. He shook his head in response, half expecting a surge of pain. None came. He raised his fingers to his brow but felt no blood. He looked down to see what had hit him and saw that it was a rolled-up piece of parchment, similar to all the others which had borne a warning concerning the skaven. He bent down to pick it up and glanced round at the same time. He heard the sound of scuttling down a nearby alley, and realised that it was most likely whoever had thrown the paper.
Without thinking, Felix scooped up the parchment and raced off in pursuit. He stretched his long legs to the maximum as he ran down the alley. Ahead of him he thought he caught sight of a cowled figure. Was it possible that that was a long rodent-like tail protruding out from under that monkish robe? All too possible, he decided.
The figure had reached the end of the alley and turned hastily down another of the winding maze of streets. Felix raced past open doorways, scattering amazed-looking beggars and treading monstrous rats underfoot as he raced onwards. His heartbeat sounded loud in his chest and sweat poured down his face. He felt nauseous and wished that he had not eaten quite so much at Doctor Drexler’s, particularly after the heavy meal at his brother’s. He clutched the scroll tight in one hand and restrained the scabbard flapping on his belt with the other.
“Stop, skaven!” he shouted. His words had no effect on the fleeing rat-man. All the beggars leapt for cover within the nearest door. Felix raced on.
Why am I doing this, he asked himself? As far as he knew, the skaven ahead had done them nothing but favours by warning him of his brethren’s plans.
In that case, why was he fleeing, Felix asked himself—but he already had an answer. Who could tell why the rat-men did anything? Who could guess at the reasons of a creature that was not even human?
Felix’s heart leapt as he saw the rat-man trip and fall. Perhaps he could overhaul it after all. Caught up in the fury of the chase, he desperately wanted to do so. He wanted to grab the rat-man and look into its eyes and question it. Not, he thought, that it would likely understand the human tongue. According to Leiber, the rat-men had their own languages, including a number of specialised dialects used by the various clans. Still, at least this one knew enough Reikspiel to write its notes, Felix thought, so perhaps it could be interrogated. He ran faster, hope blazing in his breast that at last he might be able to get some answers to his questions about the skaven.
* * * * *
Lurk glanced back over his shoulder and chittered a curse. It was no use. That foolish human was still following him! Why? What did it hope to achieve by persecuting him in this way? Why could it not leave him alone and read the message that Heskit One Eye had inscribed on the parchment? If it did that, it would surely realise that it had more urgent business this night—like heading to the palace and thwarting Grey Seer Thanquol’s plan.
Life was so unfair, Lurk thought unhappily. Here he was, in poor health, brow-beaten by some of the most ferocious skaven who ever lived, about to make an enemy of one of the mightiest sorcerers of his race. His head hurt. His eyes burned with fever. His heart felt like it was going to give out from the strain of this race. His lungs felt like they were on fire. And where was he? Not in some comfortable burrow back in Skavenblight, but being pursued through the horribly open streets of this human city by a large and terrifying warrior. It was like some dreadful nightmare. The sheer unfairness of it all galled Lurk. What had he ever done to deserve this?