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Blackhearts: The Omnibus

Page 40

by Nathan Long

REINER DEMANDED TO see Gutzmann as soon as they returned to the camp, but the general was sleeping, and so Reiner must go up the chain of command, telling his story first to Captain Vortmunder, then to Obercaptain Oppenhauer, both of whom would have dismissed his story out of hand if not for the corroboration of his fellows and the strange glass orb. At last, and very reluctantly, they brought him to Commander Shaeder, who was called from his bed, yawning and cross.

  ‘What is such an emergency that you must wake me at this ungodly hour?’ the commander asked as he sat down behind his desk, wrapped in a heavy robe. Vortmunder and Oppenhauer stood on either side of Reiner looking nervous.

  ‘My lord,’ said Reiner, bowing. ‘Forgive me, but a soldier has been kidnapped, and I fear there are inhuman agents involved that might be a danger to the fort and the Empire.’

  Shaeder pinched the bridge of his nose and waved a weary hand. ‘Very well, captain, tell your tale.’

  Reiner clicked his heels together. ‘Thank you, commander. Er, earlier this evening, I and some others, including my valet, Franz, were entertaining ourselves in Brunn….’

  ‘Whoring and drinking, you mean.’

  ‘I was indeed visiting with a young lady, commander,’ Said Reiner. ‘But before any, er, business had occurred, the window flew open and we were attacked by men in masks and robes. My valet, Franz, hearing my calls, ran to my aid, and we fought the men. Patrons of the house came at the noise and helped, but just as we were on the brink of victory the men threw some sort of grenade and we were choked by thick smoke.’

  Reiner thought he saw Shaeder frown at this, but the tic was gone before he could be sure.

  ‘When the smoke cleared,’ Reiner continued, ‘the men were gone, as was Franz.’ He coughed. ‘One of the ladies of the house was taken as well.’

  ‘Most distressing, certainly,’ said Shaeder, though he didn’t look distressed. ‘But in what way is a kidnapping in a brothel a danger to the Empire?’

  ‘I was coming to that, sir,’ said Reiner quickly. ‘One of the masked men was killed in the fight, and I was shocked to see that his hands weren’t hands at all, but claws. Like those of a rat. And his arms…’

  ‘A rat?’ Shaeder guffawed. ‘A rat did you say? The size of a man?’

  ‘A little smaller, sir. He…’

  ‘Do you mean to suggest that you were attacked by, what do the old women call them? By ratkin? By wives’ tales made flesh?’ He turned to glare at Oppenhauer and Vortmunder. ‘What do you mean bringing this nonsense before me? Are you mad?’

  ‘His story was seconded by several others, commander,’ sad Oppenhauer. ‘And he has evidence.’

  ‘Evidence?’ asked Shaeder. ‘What evidence?’

  Something in the commander’s voice made Reiner reluctant to bring the orb out of his pouch, but there was nothing for it. Shaeder wouldn’t be convinced without it. Reiner took out the glass ball and placed it on his desk.

  ‘What is this?’ asked the commander, picking it up with reluctant fingers.

  ‘One of the smoke grenades, my lord,’ said Reiner. ‘The ratmen threw one at the floor and smoke poured out of it when it shattered.’

  Shaeder scowled. ‘This is a grenade?’ He looked up at Oppenhauer. ‘You let him convince you this was a grenade? This bauble from a harlot’s dress?’ He set it on a stack of parchment. ‘A paperweight, perhaps.’

  ‘Commander,’ said Reiner, getting angry. ‘I fought them hand to hand. They were not men!’

  ‘And how do you know? Did you look under their masks? You had a body, did you not? Why are you showing me a marble instead of a body?’

  ‘Er.’ Reiner flushed. ‘We left the body behind while in pursuit of the others, who were getting away with Franz. When we returned to the brothel again, it… it was gone.’

  ‘Gone?’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  Shaeder paused for a long moment. It seemed almost that he relaxed. Then abruptly he burst out laughing, a loud, derisive bray that had him wiping his eyes. When he had recovered himself he waved a hand at Reiner. ‘Go to bed, corporal.’

  ‘Beg pardon?’ said Reiner, confused.

  ‘Go to bed, sir. Sleep it off.’

  Reiner pulled himself up, indignant. ‘You don’t believe me sir?’

  ‘I believe that you are one of those remarkable rascals who shows no outward sign of inebriation while being completely pie-eyed drunk.’

  ‘Commander,’ Reiner protested. ‘I am telling the…’

  ‘I’m sure something happened,’ Shaeder interrupted. ‘A brawl, perhaps even a kidnapping. Y’ve wounds enough. But it’s just as likely you fought your reflection in some whore’s mirror and cut yourself on the glass. Whatever happened, I will not muster the Emperor’s might to rescue some Altdorf dandy’s valet, no matter how well he polishes your boots. If the boy doesn’t show up in the morning, I will assign a detail to look for him in the gutters of Brunn, but until then, I’m for bed, as you should be.’

  Reiner balled his fists. ‘Commander, I do not think this is a threat that should be ignored. I demand to see General Gutzmann. I demand to put my case before him.’

  ‘You demand, do you?’ asked Shaeder. ‘The next thing you demand will be a week in the brig for insubordination. Now go to bed, sir. I am through with you.’ He turned to Vortmunder and Oppenhauer. ‘And in the future, you will think twice before waking me with such foolishness.’

  ‘Aye, commander,’ said Oppenhauer, saluting. ‘Thank you, sir.’

  He and Vortmunder turned with Reiner between them. Oppenhauer gave Reiner a sympathetic shrug as they walked out the door.

  ‘I believed you, lad,’ he said.

  REINER DIDN’T SLEEP that night. All he wanted to do was ride out in search of Franka, but searching in the dark would have been fruitless, particularly on his own, particularly if Franka had been taken where he suspected she had. When dawn finally came, he reported again to Shaeder, begging to be allowed to join the search detail the commander was sending out, but he had refused, telling Reiner to leave the search to men who better knew the town and the pass.

  Reiner couldn’t leave it at that. Shaeder’s men wouldn’t find Franka. They wouldn’t look in the right place. And so, though he knew it might compromise Manfred’s mission to do so, he had failed to report to Vortmunder for his morning duties, and instead sent word through Hals to the others to meet him behind the parade ground stands where they had watched Gutzmann tent-pegging on the first day. This mass dereliction of duty was sure to arouse comment, but the alternative was to leave Franka to her fate, and that was no alternative at all.

  As the men arrived, slouching up in ones and twos, Reiner knew he was in trouble. The suspicion of the previous night hadn’t cleared. In fact it seemed to have grown deeper. Their faces were closed and grim. Even Karel looked troubled.

  ‘Here it is,’ he said when they’d all gathered in the shadow of the viewing stand. ‘I’ve turned it over in my mind and I believe I know where Franz was taken.’ He nodded at Giano. ‘As much as we’ve ribbed our Tilean friend for smelling ratmen under every rock and cellar floor, I think this time he’s right. Hals and Abel, you saw the body in the brothel last night. I can find no way to deny its nature. Can you?’

  Abel said nothing.

  Hals shrugged. ‘Not sure what I saw now.’

  Reiner groaned. That didn’t bode well. ‘Well, what of the glass orb? Every fairy tale I’ve ever heard of ratkin speaks of them using bizarre weapons. What of the stories the miners have been telling about men disappearing? And Giano smelling them in the tunnels?’

  Giano’s eyes glowed. ‘You believe now?’

  ‘I don’t know what I believe,’ said Reiner. ‘But be it ratmen or some other horror, I think something lurks in the mine, and I mean to go down and look for Franz.’

  There was a silence. Abel broke it.

  ‘To look for your beloved, you mean.’

  Reiner’s head snapped up. ‘What do you say?’

 
‘Shut yer trap, y’clod,’ growled Hals.

  ‘You speakin’ ill of the captain?’ asked Dag, menacingly.

  Karel glared at the man. ‘You are out of order, quartermaster.’

  Abel looked at them disbelievingly. ‘Do you still have loyalty to this… this invert? How can you trust him when he’s been hiding his true nature from you all this time?’

  The Blackhearts looked at the ground, uncomfortable.

  Abel sneered. ‘You saw him last night, with red all over his mouth. We all did. He’d been kissing his “boot boy”.’

  ‘Enough, Halstieg!’ cried Karel. He looked to Reiner pleadingly. ‘Captain. Tell them they’re mistaken!’

  Pavel shifted uncomfortably. ‘Captain’s a good leader. He ain’t led us wrong.’

  ‘Hasn’t he?’ asked Abel. ‘Are you happy to be walking around with poison in your veins? Dancing at the mercy of some cagey jagger. Who led you to that?’

  There was a simmering silence.

  ‘Listen…’ said Reiner, but Abel cut him off again.

  ‘And he certainly ain’t leading you right this time; thinking with his stem instead of his head, asking us to go into some dirty hole that’ll most likely cave in on us. For the good of the mission? Because it will get us home quicker? No. It hasn’t anything to do with what we came here to do. He’s afraid for the life of his precious catamite, and he’ll lead us all to our deaths to save him.’

  ‘Enough!’ barked Reiner. ‘I’ll not waste time arguing and explaining. I am afraid for Franz, as I would be for any of you.’ He shot a glance at Abel. ‘Even you, quartermaster. And I want to try to find him before he comes to harm. As I would with any of you.’ He shrugged. ‘I won’t order you. I never have. But I’m going down there whether or not you accompany me.’ He stood and shouldered the pack of pitch torches he’d gathered. ‘Who’s with me?’

  ‘I!’ said Giano immediately. ‘I want all my life to be fighting ratmens.’ He stepped to Reiner’s side.

  The rest didn’t move. Reiner looked from one to the other. They hung their heads. He sighed. He hadn’t expected the new men to come with him. They hadn’t fought through the bowels of the Middle Mountains with him. They hadn’t faced down Valnir’s Bane and Albrecht’s mindless army by his side. But when Hals and Pavel wouldn’t meet his eyes it felt as if some giant crushed his heart in his hands.

  ‘Sorry, captain,’ said Gert.

  Dag muttered something under his breath.

  Karel hung his head. ‘It isn’t part of our mission, captain.’

  Reiner shrugged, then glared at Abel. ‘The poison with which Manfred cursed us is naught compared with that which you wield.’ He turned toward the pass road. ‘Come, Giano. Let’s be off.’

  AS REINER AND Giano walked north toward the mine in the cold morning light, Giano jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Fella want you job, I thinking.’

  And he might get it, thought Reiner, nodding. A tricksy cove, Halstieg. A way with words when he wanted, and a streak of ambition that one might miss at first glance. And no heart at all. Reiner was certain Abel cared not a whit if he loved men, women or goats. He only used the issue to drive a wedge between him and the others, so that he might step in and lead them. The quartermaster was smart enough to know that his survival depended on pleasing Manfred, and if that meant betraying Reiner and proving he was the better man, so be it.

  THE MINE WAS as busy as ever, and Reiner and Giano had little trouble in wandering through all the chaos to the closed tunnel. The first hundred feet or so were still open, and were used as a storage area for cartwheels and rail ties and supplies. Reiner and Giano wound around the clutter until they came to the barricade, a wall of planks and cross braces that reached from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. It was dark this far from the entrance. Reiner pulled a torch from his pack and lit it from his tinder box. He and Giano examined the wall. A rough door had been cut in it, locked with an enormous iron padlock.

  ‘Can you pick?’ asked Giano.

  ‘I’m afraid not. My burglars tools are cards and dice.’ He began pushing on the planks around the door. ‘But I don’t think we’ll have to.’

  ‘Hey? For why?’

  ‘Well,’ said Reiner, as he walked down the wall. ‘If the ratmen are in there, and they come out through here, then they wouldn’t use a door that locked on this side, you see?’

  ‘Ah! Si. Captain damn smart.’

  ‘Or perhaps not,’ grumbled Reiner as he reached the end of the wall without finding a board that gave. He started back along the wall, looking at the boards once again. There had to be something. He couldn’t allow himself to believe he was wrong. The ratmen had to be here.

  He stopped, frowning. The left edge of one of the boards was grimier than the rest. He reached out and touched the grime. It was oily. He sniffed his finger. It reeked with an animal stench—the same stench the robed men had given off. Reiner’s heart jumped. He took another step down the wall. The next plank was clean, but the one after that had corresponding grime on its right edge. He stepped back. Filthy fur pushing through a narrow opening would leave just such marks.

  He pointed to the plank between the begrimed planks. ‘This one.’ He pushed on it. It didn’t move. But of course not. It would push from the other side. He looked for some way to pull it. There was no handle, or string. But there was a hole—a knot hole near the floor.

  Reiner stuck his finger in the hole. It was greasy as well. He pulled. The board came up easily, revealing utter blackness.

  Giano grinned. ‘Knock, knock, hey?’

  Reiner swallowed. ‘Aye. Er, after you.’

  Giano ducked eagerly through the gap. Reiner followed more cautiously, sticking his torch through first, then squeezing in afterwards. The board banged down behind him. Inside was a bit of an anticlimax. It looked exactly like the outside—a high, wide tunnel sloping away into darkness.

  ‘No sign of a cave-in,’ said Reiner.

  ‘Maybe further down.’

  ‘Or maybe not at all.’

  They started down the tunnel, travelling in a small sphere of light through a universe of black. A hundred yards on, they almost tripped over two small crates piled against one wall. Reiner held the torch low. The crates looked familiar.

  ‘What is?’ asked Giano.

  Reiner snorted. ‘“Mining tools”.’

  As they continued on, Reiner’s heart thudded with excitement. Now they need not wait for the next shipment to Aulschweig. They could kill Gutzmann whenever they wanted and take the gold from here instead—a much easier proposition than stealing it en route. This was excellent news—at least it would be if Franka still lived.

  Shortly after that the tunnel stopped at a rough rock face, and for a moment Reiner’s heart sank. But then he saw a small opening in the face. It was a tunnel so narrow that he and Giano had to walk single file. Ten paces in, Giano stopped suddenly and raised his hand.

  ‘Light,’ he said.

  Reiner put his torch on the ground behind him and they crept forward.

  Three yards further the tunnel opened up into a large space, lit with a wan purple light. Giano peeked out then gasped and flinched back. Reiner followed his gaze and jumped back as well, heart thudding. Looming over them was a monstrous insect the size of a house. Huge sabre-like mandibles jutted from its maw. It took a moment of deep breaths to realize that the insect wasn’t moving, wasn’t alive, wasn’t in fact an insect. It was a giant machine. And it wasn’t alone.

  Giano and Reiner stepped cautiously into the tunnel, looking up at the four massive metal monstrosities that sat on man-high wooden wheels to the left and right of the narrow hole. A thrill of fear ran through Reiner as he divined their purpose. They were digging machines. Mad, skeletal contraptions of iron, wood, leather and brass. The mandibles were giant steel picks meant to chew at the workface. They were attached by a series of axles, gears and belts to an enormous brass tank, green with corrosion, fitted with all manner of valves and levers. B
road leather belts led from beneath the mandibles to the backs of the contraptions, where strings of wooden mine carts were lined up, ready to take the chewed rock away.

  The scale of the enterprise made Reiner’s head spin. Not even the Empire built machines this large. What were they digging? Did the ratmen mine gold as well? Was there something else of value in the rock? Or…

  It came to him with sudden clarity and dread, and his blood turned to ice in his veins. The ratmen were building a road—a road high enough and wide enough to allow an army to march to the surface. And they were only twenty paces from connecting with the mine tunnel, which was just as high and wide. Their work was almost done.

  Giano swallowed. ‘This bad, hey?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Reiner. ‘Bad is a word for it.’

  As he and Giano crept around the towering machines, weirdly lit by the pulsing purple light that came from glowing stones set high in the walls, Reiner saw movement in the shadows and jerked his dagger out of its scabbard. Rats—of the small, four-footed variety—swarmed over piles of bones and rubbish that cluttered the floor, ample evidence that this wasn’t some long abandoned endeavour. Some of the bones looked human. Reiner moaned in his throat. Were the ratmen kidnapping women for food?

  There was a small side passage in the left wall, and more dotted the tunnel on both sides as far as they could see. The openings made Reiner nervous. At any moment a ratman could pop out of one, and then where would they be?

  He and Giano started forward, looking warily around. A few moments later, distant structures began to emerge from the gloom. At first Reiner thought they were battlements of some kind—the walls and towers of some underground town—but as they got closer, he saw that they were siege towers, mounted on wheels and laid on their sides. They were surrounded by other giant engines of war, catapults, ballisti, and battering rams.

  ‘Blood of Sigmar,’ he breathed. ‘They mean to take the fort.’

  Giano nodded, wide-eyed.

  They crept forward at a snail’s pace, hugging the wall and keeping low, and at last reached the jumble of machines, Giano sniffing like a bloodhound. As they came around a prone tower, they saw, further on, an encampment of sorts, though to one used to the regimented order of an Empire camp, it was an offence to the eye. Low structures that looked more like piles of blankets than tents hugged the walls of the tunnel and shadows wormed in and out of them like… well, like rats.

 

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