2k words
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“Those Skaven back in there, they’re not really slaves, are they?” Roderick asked.
“Of course they are you fool. They were slaves for the Snout just like I was, but I helped stage a riot, and now they’re part of my growing following.”
“How long will they follow you around for?”
“Perpetually! Skaven’s the cleverest rat round here, is only natural they follow my will.”
“You shouldn’t deny them their freedom,” he replied. “Slavery is outlawed in the Empire, to deny someone their right to choose their own path is not ethical.”
“Yawwwnnn.” She rolled her eyes. “You sound just like Fred-wil. I tell you what I tell him, I’ve never laid a paw on any of the skavenslaves. Sure, made some threats here and there, but nothing more. You see theses?” She pointed at the blemishes on her arms. “Pinkface did these when he made me slave, you think I want to pass that on like some lifelong lesson? My slaves will be different, and it’s not like they have other choice. They go into Empire, they die. They go back Clan’s, they get punished and then die. Does that satisfy your man-thing morals?”
“It will, and I trust you to do right by your people,” he answered.
The orcs had saddled up, their mounts trotting down the street the way they’d come, quickly vanishing behind the trees surrounding the tavern. The final step of their journey would be soon upon them. There was only a handful of days’ ride to Marienburg, and Skyseeker and Wilfred’s arrival couldn’t have been more timely. He wouldn’t be at all surprised at the moot if Von Kessel did a complete turn around from his prior statements of leaving the city to its doom.
“Your musk smells funny,” Skyseeker blurted out, Roderick tilting his head at her.
“You always know what to say, lass.”
“Funny weird,” she iterated. She leaned over to put her pink nose against his thigh, taking in a lungful. He watched her curiously as she circled him, her snout twitching as she scented the air around him. “What is that?” she demanded. “Can’t place my paw upon it.”
“Well, I’ve not seen a bath in near a month, I’d be surprised if I did not reek of death and sweat.”
“Then you need to get clean-cleaned,” she said. “Keg has bathhouse on other side. Skaven will join you,” she added, her tail snaking out to take firm hold of his wrist. “Your green-thing friends won’t be back for a while, give us plenty time to catch up.”
“And here I was, thinking I’d be bored in the meantime,” he chuckled.
-xXx-
It was just as dusk was falling when they heard the rest of the band making their way up the road. The combined sounds of a thousand pairs of boots and hooves created a momentous rumble, the vibrations travelling up his legs even at this distance. The clamour had some of the tavern’s staff worried, even with Wilfred there to assure them that all was well. Roderick would be pensive in their shoes as well. They had no doubt become familiar with roaming armies at this point in time, their isolated position up here in the woods the only reason they hadn’t drawn much attention. Until now…
The band rounded the curve of the woods with horses at the front, and men on foot following close behind. Their formation was loose and tired, but the sight of Imperial forces was inspiring nonetheless. Some Brettonian banners had been raised among the horses, their foreign allies as clean and pious as ever. He could not see any orc warriors yet, perhaps they were bringing up the rear.
Next came the trundling supply wagons, the officers directing them towards the Keg’s stables, the mules following suit. The clearing around the tavern was quickly filled to capacity as the band gathered round. A cheer went up from the ranks, a burly sailor pushing his way to the forefront. He made his way over to one of Wilfred’s men – Otto, he recalled – and the pair embraced like old friends. When it was quickly realised that some of their old friends were still alive, more of Kessel’s man came forward to reunite with them.
Even Skyseeker was involved in the meeting, several sailors coming over to shake her hand and wish her good tidings. Her cheeks flushed with all the attention, but she was eager to lap up all the attention, Roderick smiling at the sight.
The core of the band soon made their way over to them, Von Kessel and Lothar separating and riding up to the Keg. They dismounted with a clatter, handing off their reigns to attendants. Von Kessel seemed pleasantly surprised to see Wilfred, the Captain bowing his head politely.
“I am glad to see you alive and well, Master Wizard,” Kessel began. “When word reached me that you were alive, I could hardly believe it, yet here you stand. The Conclave’s people are as resilient as ever.”
“I will hear no more of your sycophancy, Captain,” Wilfred snapped. “You were charged with protecting the Empire at the Conclave’s behest. You accepted this duty when we met in Marienburg itself no less, yet you would turn your back on our people all same?”
Von Kessel’s eyes flicked to Roderick, his face twisting in anger. “Forgive me, Wilfred,” Von Kessel stammered. “I thought you were dead…”
“And that gives you reason to take your leave?” Wilfred countered. “The fickleness of your honour concerns me, but you are fortunate I am in a good mood this day. I will give you one chance to return to your duty, and help us protect the homeland with all your power. There won’t be a second.”
“I understand,” Von Kessel said, trying to maintain a stoic face. Most of the men nearby had stopped to watch quietly, but Skyseeker seemed especially amused by the sight.
“HA! Kessel-man got chewed out,” she chuckled. “Everyone point and laugh!”
“We’re holding council tonight,” Wilfred explained to the Captain. “Join us then, but for now get your men some rest. The Keg has enough in its stores to feed the majority of your men, I suggest they take advantage.”
Wilfred turned away, Von Kessel standing there in annoyance before turning to relay his orders to his advisors. As he turned to leave, he walked past Roderick and Skyseeker, and he paused to appraise the Skaven. Roderick swear he could see a flash of tension cloud his features.
“You live as well,” Kessel mused. It was hard to tell if it was a question or not. “I am… glad, your favourite rat is still with us, Roderick.”
“No you’re not,” Skyseeker answered. “We all know you the biggest rat-bigot in the province, Kessel-man, don’t deny it.”
“Who said I was denying it?” Kessel grumbled.
There was a commotion from nearby, and they turned to see some of the other Skaven had come to the windows to see what was going on, their presence startling some of the newcomers. Some of the rats drew blades, the sailors readying swords. The one called Otto was quick to move in and calm the two sides before it escalated any further.
“Oh joy, there are more of them,” Von Kessel mused. “And I was worried introducing one of them would be a problem, yet they’ve already infested our lands.”
“You should be thankful,” Skyseeker said. “These rats will help you slay your foe-foes. And when a Skaven wants something dead, we make sure they stay dead. You should take inspiration from us, man-thing.”
Von Kessel’s mouth tightened, but he seemed unwilling to engage with Skyseeker a moment further. He turned away, Lothar frowning down at the Skaven as he hurried after.
“What was that all about?” Roderick asked once they were out of hearing distance. “I know he dislikes you, but he seems even more infuriated with you.”
“Oh, that? Just a bit of banter between enemies,” Skyseeker replied, waving a hand dismissively.
“I know there is much animosity between you,” Roderick said. “Even he and I have had our disagreements. But we must all work together if we want to pull through this. Once we relieve Marienburg, it will hopefully be the last we see of him.”
“You bring lots of man-things with you,” Skyseeker remarked, turning to gesture at the gathering band. The clearing around the tavern had seemed so broad before, but now the men were having to hoist their tents a little ways into the woods. She gawked as a Brettonian knight led his horse through the nearby crowd, both man and beast covered in shining layers of steel. “Look at that one! So much silver is burning my retinas!”
“That’s a Brettonian,” he explained. “When Kessel and I went to their capital, Lyonesse, the Duke gave us a battalion of knights.”
“They look like man-things, but strange,” she mused. “Paler skin, brighter hair, like Skaven with different fur. Intriguement…”
“Let’s head inside,” he suggested. “The place will be crowded when words spreads that there’s to be a feast, we should get ourselves a seat early.”
As they turned for the tavern, a voice rose above the dozens of chatting men.
“Little knight!”
Roderick turned, his heart tightening in his chest. He spotted Mazkha after a moment, the orc towering head and shoulders above the men, who darted out of her path when they saw her trotting through on her giant boar. Beyond her he could see the rest of the orcs pulling up at the edge of the clearing, where her kin were setting their tents.
She dismounted the saddle, letting the boar graze nearby as she walked over.
“There you are,” Mazkha said sweetly, reaching down to ruffle his hair affectionately. “I heard you found your old friends! I’m happy for you, Roderick.”
“Thank you,” he said. “How did things go with your brother? Did you discuss our… plan?” There were many ears that he didn’t want to risk open discussion yet.
“He’s into it, like I knew he’d be,” Mazkha replied. “It’s all taken care of. Long as you keep me as happy as you have been, the boss will be happy too.”
“Ahem!” a high-pitched voice squeaked, Mazkha cocking her head as she searched for the source. When she looked down, Skyseeker scowled back, one brow cocked to give her an aggressively confused expression. “Who’s this bint?”
Roderick rubbed his temple, looking between the two women. He’d been so preoccupied that afternoon that he’d completely neglected to mention Mazkha to either of his friends, and a feeling of dread sank in his guts. He hadn’t considered how he’d introduce the pair, but this was far from ideal.
“I beg your pardon?” Mazkha growled.
“No pardon for you, miss green-bean,” Skyseeker replied. “Why you putting your paws on my man-thing?”
“Yours? Ah, you must be Skyseeker.” There was little sincerity behind her smile. “You sure she’s a woman, Roderick? I’ve seen bigger teats on a piglet.”
“You look more like a pig than I do, tusk-face. Was that your parent you rode in on just now? The resemblance is uncanny!”
Mazkha exposed more of her tusks as she snarled, but Skyseeker didn’t bat an eye, one of her hands moving towards the dagger on her hip. Roderick stepped in before either of them could get another word out.
“Lasses, calm yourselves,” he began. “It seems a proper introduction is in order. Skyseeker, I’d like you to meet Mazkha.”
“His companion,” the orc added.
“And Mazkha? This is Skyseeker,”
“His breeder,” the Skaven added.
“Mazkha’s is the sister of the orc warboss,” he explained. “The lass has been nice enough to keep the orc’s support in our favour.”
“What are you calling her lass for?” Skyseeker complained. “That’s my nickname!”
“It’s only natural,” Mazkha replied, looping an arm round his shoulders. “I’ve been his closest companion in these hard-pressed times.”
“Not anymore you’re not,” Skyseeker said, shooing her as though she were a invasive housefly. “Thank you for keeping him company, but you can go now-now, your presence is no longer required.”
“I think I’m fine right here,” Mazkha replied, pulling Roderick closer, her bust spilling over his shoulder. Skyseeker looked about ready to explode.
“Perhaps, we all got off on the wrong foot,” Roderick suggested, gently easing away from Mazka. “Why don’t we start from the beginning? We were just about to head inside for a meal…”
“And you’re NOT welcome to join us,” Skyseeker grumbled.