by Warhammer
Gotrek glared at Steg. Snorri looked on in unabashed amazement. Steg was confessing to the most heinous of all dwarf crimes, shamelessly and in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice. If Steg noticed he did not give any sign. ‘So it was off to the Shrine of Grimnir for a haircut and a beard trim.’
‘You don’t seem particularly ashamed,’ Felix said. Steg looked at him.
‘Young human, I am a locksmith by trade, and a thief by compulsion. I am ashamed because I brought dishonour on my clan, and because through my lack of skill I was caught. I seek to atone for my crime by death but before I die, I intend restitution to those I have wronged. Since I spent the gold I took I will take my recompense from my share of the dragon’s hoard.’
Felix looked at him sidelong. He wondered how sincere Steg was. Perhaps he suffered from gold fever and merely wanted to be near the treasure. Perhaps he was not really a Slayer at all but merely intended to accompany them and steal the treasure. Who could tell? Gotrek seemed a little mollified by Steg’s explanation though. He no longer looked as if he wanted to take his axe to the self-confessed thief’s skull. Felix found himself interested in Steg’s tale.
‘You are a locksmith? I have heard dwarf locksmiths are prodigiously skilled.’
‘Aye, we are. I think that was another reason I took to crime. The challenge of it. I wanted to prove myself superior to all other locksmiths by overcoming their creations.’
Gotrek snorted. ‘There are some things of which it is better not to speak.’
‘Snorri thinks he will have another beer.’
‘Felix thinks he will be staggering back to the palace,’ said Felix.
‘Be careful of your purse,’ Steg said. Felix smiled and patted his belt – to discover it was not there.
Steg extended a large hand which contained it. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Old habits die hard.’
Ulrika sat in the library of the Slayer King. The lanterns flickered eerily illuminating the rows and rows of shelves and pigeonholes containing scrolls, leather-bound books, maps and other documents. The Slayer King’s library was surprisingly well furnished. Most of the books were unreadable to her, being written in dwarf runes, but there was a good selection of human volumes and many, many maps of the mountains. These were executed with far more detail and precision than human maps. Dwarfs, it seemed, were sticklers for detail.
On the low dwarf crafted table in front of her was spread out a map of the mountains, the latest product of the king’s scribes, showing the area around the city for all of a hundred leagues. Little pictographs indicated towns and villages and it was easy to understand their meanings. A gold axe indicated a gold mine. A red axe might be coal or iron. A boat indicated a port where rafts or ships might go down river. Major trails were marked in thick red lines, lesser ones in thinner ones. What looked like perilous portage routes through mountains were lines of red dots. Crossed swords indicated a battle site. An orc’s head most likely marked the lair of some greenskin tribe.
Looking at the map she could see that Peak Pass ran down to the lowlands of the eastern Empire. The way was clear but from there it was a long circuitous route to the court of the Ice Queen. The fastest way north to Kislev lay along the Old High Road to Karak Ungor, and then down the River Urskoy to Kislev city. Unfortunately the dragon symbol lay athwart what had been a major trade route on the older maps, forcing the thick red line to wind a tortuous path through the peaks far longer than it had once been.
It looked as if Felix was right, she thought sourly. It might be quicker to wait until the airship was repaired. Assuming it could get past the dragon, it would be much faster, and judging by the number of orc symbols on the map, possibly much safer. Looking at the map, she could tell the swiftest way would actually be to go with the Slayers along the Karak Ungor High Road.
Perhaps she simply wanted to believe that, so they could stay together for a little bit longer. It was annoying and frustrating – and saddening too. It was one of the things that put such a strain on their relationship. She wanted to be with him, and this desire made her want to shirk her duty to her father and nation. She knew she should take her father’s message to Kislev. And yet she resented her duty for taking her away from Felix, just as she resented him for tearing her from her duty.
She was not sure what she felt about him any more. While they had been separated, she had daydreamed about his return constantly, but his return had changed things. He was not a fantasy figure any more but a real person, and one whom she could find quite annoying at times, with his cleverness and air of sophistication. He had grown up in the capital of the civilised world, after all, and she was the daughter of a border noble of a semi-barbarous land. She had not realised what a difference that could make. His allusions to poets and plays and books went right over her head, and made her feel stupid sometimes. He lacked the straightforward honour code of her people, and he had travelled so far and seen so much in his life that it was intimidating. At the court in Middenheim she had felt dowdy and out of place among all the sophisticated ladies. He made her feel that way sometimes too.
More than that, she felt threatened by the intimacy that had grown between them so strongly and so quickly. All of her life she had been in control of her emotions. She had been raised to be a warrior, to fight as well as any man, to be like the son her father had really wanted. That and her position as heir had kept an emotional distance between her and any man. She was not sure whether she wanted that gap closed.
And then there was his drinking. Ulrika had grown up around hard drinking men but in Kislev, it was a thing reserved for festivals and feasts. It was too dangerous a place for anyone to risk sottishness more than a few times in a year. Since they had reached the city Felix had got drunk every day. It was worrying.
She shook her head. This was not like her. This was the first time she had ever felt this way. To worry so about what a man thought about her, and what she thought about a man. In the past, she had taken lovers according to the easy codes of her people’s nobility, for evenings of pleasure. She had never felt any deep emotional connection or any unease whatsoever. But then again, she had understood those men, and what she expected of them, and they of her. She was not sure she understood Felix at all. And she was not sure she could see a future for them either.
Not that it mattered anyway, she thought wryly. With the Chaos horde advancing, and the dangers of the road ahead, there most likely would not be a future anyway, so it seemed pointless to worry. She thrust the thoughts aside and returned to her study of the map, looking for the best route towards her goal. It did seem like accompanying the Slayers was the best way.
She heard the door open and footsteps enter the library. The footsteps were human, and not Felix’s light tread. She looked up and saw Max. He gazed at her and winked.
‘So I am not the only one burning the midnight oil,’ he said.
She nodded, wondering what he was thinking. From the look in his eyes it seemed perfectly possible that he had come here because he knew she was here. At her father’s mansion house, he had always been bumping into her, as if by accident. There was also a smell of alcohol on his breath.
‘What are you doing here, Max?’ she asked. His smile widened.
‘I am taking this opportunity to study in a dwarf king’s library. They preserve many old books, you know, ones that are rare in the Empire. Some translated from dwarfish by human scribes.’
‘I never knew that there were humans who could read dwarfish.’
‘Reading is not counted a great gift among the Kislevites,’ he said. Ulrika could hear the irony in his tone. It reminded her of Felix, and she felt a small surge of anger. Unaware of this, Max continued to speak. ‘Among the citizens of the Empire it is different. Some there can not only read, they can read dwarf runes.’
‘I thought it was a secret tongue the dwarfs kept to themselves.’
‘It is now. It was not always so. Once dwarfs and men were closer, and in the time of Sigmar Heldenham
mer, many were taught the dwarf tongue. Dwarf runes may have formed the basis of the first human alphabets. Certainly, according to the Unfinished Book, Sigmar could speak with dwarfs in their native tongue.’
‘Sigmar was a god.’
‘He took human form, and his first priests could speak dwarfish too. They passed it on to those who came after. It is still used by many scholars of the church.’
‘You are saying that there are humans who can speak dwarfish?’
‘The ancient version of the tongue, which is not too dissimilar to modern dwarfish. They are a very conservative people, the Elder Race, and not that much has changed in their language over the past two thousand, five hundred years. If you can speak the old version of the tongue, you can make yourself understood in the modern version. And you can most likely read it.’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘I am a scholar as well as a magician, and like many scholars I studied in the temples when I was young. Also, a magician these days needs a working knowledge of theology and liturgy if he is not to fall foul of witch hunters. The temples are still not fond of us. There are often times when we need to be able to prove that we are god-fearing men.’
Ulrika remembered the superstitions of her own folk and the hatred that many of the followers of Ulric had borne mages when she was in Middenheim.
She could see some sense in his words. ‘And are you a god-fearing man, Max Schreiber? Or is your soul in peril?’
‘I am more godly than you could guess, Ulrika Magdova. I have been an enemy of Chaos all my life, no matter what the witch hunters might think.’
‘You do not need to convince me of that, Max. I saw you fight against the skaven.’
He moved closer and sat down opposite her. She could definitely smell the wine on his breath. ‘You are contemplating a journey, I see. Going hunting for dragons, are you?’
‘No. I am trying to find a way to Kislev, to bring my father’s warning to my people. The Tzarina must know about this impending invasion.’
‘You are not going with the dwarfs then? Felix is, isn’t he?’
‘Felix is sworn to accompany Gotrek. I would not ask him to break an oath.’
Ulrika was not quite sure what to make of the expression that moved across Max’s face. In the dim light it was hard to tell if he was surprised, pleased, alarmed or a little of all these things. ‘I thought you two were inseparable,’ he said eventually.
‘We are bed companions, nothing more,’ Ulrika knew it wasn’t true even as she said it, but it was close enough to the reality of the situation so that she did not feel like a liar. Max winced. Was he jealous or was it something else?
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘It’s just that Kislevite women seem a little more forthright on... matters of the heart than men of the Empire are used to.’
‘We are honest.’
‘No question of that. It just took me by surprise that is all. In the Empire a lady does not talk of such things.’
Ulrika looked at him. ‘They certainly do such things, though. I spent quite enough time in the court at Middenheim to see that. At least we Kislevite women are not hypocrites!’
To her surprise Max laughed. ‘Yes. It’s true. You have a point.’
‘There is no need to talk down to me.’
‘I am not doing that.’ His tone changed. ‘How do you intend to get to Kislev? On foot?’
‘By horse, if we can find any in this place.’
‘How many of you? Will you be hiring bodyguards?’
‘I have Oleg and Standa and I have my own good sword. What need have I of any more?’
‘The way between here and Kislev is long and hard and full of peril.’ He paused for a minute as if considering something. ‘Perhaps you could use another sword on the route, and more than a sword, a magician.’
‘Are you offering your services?’ Ulrika felt suddenly uneasy. She was not at all sure that she wanted Max riding with her, potent mage though he was.
‘Yes.’
‘I will think on it.’
‘You will need me,’ he said confidently. ‘There are orcs in those mountains, and they have a shaman with them. It takes magic to fight magic.’
‘I have said I will think on it,’ she said, and rose to leave. Max bowed goodnight to her. As she reached the door, she felt him gazing at her. He opened his mouth to speak.
‘I love you,’ he said suddenly.
‘You’re drunk,’ she said and swept out of the door. Even as she did so, she heard him say, ‘True, but that doesn’t make any difference.’
As she walked through the corridor, she realised she had come to a decision. She would travel with Felix and Gotrek along the High Road to the Urskoy turning; assuming they survived the trip she would make her way north with Oleg and Standa. She felt as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders. She looked forward to seeing Felix and to sharing a bed. They had been apart a lot recently, and she felt some responsibility for that. She would try and make things up.
Max stood in the library, feeling foolish. The effects of the wine he had taken earlier in the Emperor’s Griffon had not worn off, and had left his tongue loose. Part of him was glad he had said what he had, and another part was deeply embarrassed by the rebuff. He realised that a lifetime of studying magic in musty old books had in no way prepared him for dealing with a living woman. He felt like he had said the wrong thing right from the beginning of the conversation.
This was dreadful. He would have to get a grip on himself. He was a master mage of the Golden College and a secret brother of the ancient order of the Golden Hammer. He was not some callow student of the mysteries. He could not afford to lose control of himself in this or any other way. With his powers, disasters could easily happen. He was only too aware of tales of mages who had wreaked terrible havoc whilst drunk. Not that he was going to. He was too clever for that. He would never try using his powers while inebriated. Not for any reason.
It was dark in here, though. Not enough light to see by. He moved his fingers through the familiar intricate pattern and felt the winds of magic answer. A sphere of softly glowing yellowish light sprang into being around his hand. He rolled it off, and left it to hover in mid-air in the centre of the chamber. Its light flickered erratically as if something were affecting his control of the magic. Perhaps it was the old dwarf protective runes. Perhaps it was something else. He was not going to worry about it now.
He shook his head and looked at the map Ulrika had been studying. It was not difficult to see the story it told. The dragon’s awakening had certainly stirred things up in this part of the Worlds Edge Mountains. Orc tribes were everywhere. Towns had been destroyed. Trade routes were being blocked. He could easily imagine the cascade of troubles.
The dragon awakes and begins destroying human and dwarf towns and eating their flocks. This leads to the trade routes and mountain passes being less well-defended. Orcs and other nastier creatures take advantage of the anarchy to increase their own power. The caravan routes lengthen, sellswords increase their hiring price because of the danger. The cost of goods rises here in the mountains and in the human towns of the Ostermark. The ripples of this one event move out across hundreds of leagues, affecting the lives of thousands of people who will never even see a dragon and may even believe it is only a myth.
Max wondered how often similar chains of events affected the human realms. Doubtless far more than he would ever learn of. It seemed all too likely though that enough of them occurring at once might cause the collapse of the Empire. For one thing, looking at this map, it was difficult to see how the dwarfs might move an army quickly through the mountains if the dragon and the orcs decided to oppose them. Even if they wanted to aid the Kislevites against the marching legions of Chaos, they might not be able to.
Of course, there was always the Spirit of Grungni. The airship would allow the movement of many warriors very quickly. Perhaps that would be the answer. If the mighty machine could be r
epaired. Even then, the dragon had almost destroyed it once. Perhaps it might try again and succeed. Max shook his head. He knew he was simply trying to distract himself from his hopeless passion for Ulrika.
Or was it so hopeless? It appeared that all was not well between her and Felix. Perhaps he might get his chance yet, particularly if she and Herr Jaeger were not travelling together, and he was with her. Who knew what might happen then? He allowed the surge of hope to fade. Just because she and Felix might be falling out did not mean that she would go with him. He felt almost like laughing.
Here he was, sworn to oppose Chaos, with the largest incursion of the forces of Darkness in two centuries about to occur, and all he could think about was this one girl. Somehow, he would have to get his sense of proportion back. He walked over to the shelves and studied the books.
There was indeed a fair number of volumes here, including some copies of the Book of Grudges for Karak Kadrin that dated back well over 3,000 years. The earlier entries were in the almost pure ancient dwarfish he had learned as a youth. He flipped through the pages, and was soon slumped in the chair, snoring, with the old tales of treachery, betrayal and gloom slipping from his hand.
Felix staggered back into the room he shared with Ulrika. He was none too steady on his feet and his efforts at moving quietly seemed to be failing horribly. Already he had kicked over a chamber pot, and sent his sword tumbling to the floor with a loud metallic clatter. Despite her stillness on the bed, he knew Ulrika was awake. He wondered how long she had been waiting for him.
‘So you’re drunk as well,’ she said. She sounded angry.
‘You’ve been drinking,’ said Felix stupidly. ‘I thought you were going to the king’s library to plan your route home.’
‘No. Max was drinking.’
‘You were drinking with Herr Schreiber.’ Felix wondered at how much sullen jealousy managed to creep into his voice during that one sentence.