Von Volgen held his gaze for a moment, then coughed and looked down. “I do not blame you, lord steward. I think it only natural that, with command thrust upon you as it has been, you would use the graf’s name to add authority to your orders… regardless if the graf was giving them or not.”
Von Geldrecht looked like he was going to explode, then he too looked away. “Your suspicion is understandable, my lord,” he said. “But Graf Reiklander does still rule here, and he wishes Tauber to remain imprisoned. I am sorry. You will have to take my word on it.”
And with that he turned away, limping to the stairs and cracking his cane angrily with every step.
Von Volgen’s fists clenched and it looked like he was going to call after him, but he restrained himself, and turned back to the wall to stare out over the zombie horde.
Felix looked at von Volgen for a long minute, then stepped away from Kat to lean beside him. “My lord,” he whispered, “why don’t you take his place?”
FIFTEEN
Von Volgen turned from the wall, eyes hard. “I don’t know what you mean, mein herr.”
Felix grunted, impatient, and looked over his shoulder as Kat joined them. “Yes you do, my lord. Von Geldrecht is no general. You know that. He isn’t much more than a jumped-up quartermaster, and he is leading us to ruin! You could lead us to victory—or survival at least.”.
Von Volgen fixed him with a cold stare. “You speak of mutiny.”
“I speak of saving men’s lives!” Felix blurted, then lowered his voice again. “He has already killed half of us with his hesitations and his refusal to free Tauber. Will you sit and watch while he kills the rest? You could save us! You want to save us!”
“Yes, my lord,” said Kat. “Please.”
The knuckles of von Volgen’s hands were as white as bone, and the veins in his neck stood out like ropes. Felix was afraid he was going to hit him, but when he spoke, his words were quiet and measured.
“Herr Jaeger, I thank you for the high opinion you have of my abilities,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter what I want. I have no authority here. I may advise. I may suggest, but it would be mutiny, indeed, treason, for me to try to wrest command from the man the rightful lord of this castle has given it to, and I will not commit treason.”
“But your men may die!” whispered Felix. “His men may die! Sigmar’s beard, if Kemmler takes Castle Reikguard and leads us all to Altdorf, it might be the Empire that dies! Isn’t that a greater treason?”
Von Volgen turned and looked back out over the endless army of corpses, his brow furrowed. “You make a compelling argument,” he said at last. “But I cannot agree. Law is the strength of our Empire, Herr Jaeger. More than strength of arms or faith in Sigmar, the laws that bind lord to lord and lord to peasant protect us. They allow us to trust one another, to unite and to know that the strong will not take advantage of the weak in times of crisis.”
“But you won’t take advantage,” said Kat. “You aren’t that sort of ruler.”
Von Volgen cut her off with a raised hand. “Today I am not,” he said. “Today I usurp the rule of Castle Reikguard for the noble cause of saving the Empire. But what will tomorrow’s excuse be? Will I take command of my neighbour’s forces because he is losing a war against beastmen? Will I overthrow the elector count of Talabecland if he rules poorly?” He shook his head. “A man may break the law with the best of intentions, but when he sees the ease of it, it becomes habit, and he is lost. I am sorry, friends. I will give Steward von Geldrecht what aid I can, but he rules here, and I will not change that. Nor,” he said, turning hard eyes on them, “will I allow anyone else to try. Do you understand?”
Felix looked down to hide the anger in his eyes, and he heard Kat grunt beside him. He understood von Volgen’s reasoning, but what did it matter what a man might be tempted to do far in the future when what he did now could save hundreds of lives? It was maddening! Unfortunately, there seemed no point in arguing it further. The lord had made up his mind.
“I understand, my lord,” said Felix at last. “Forgive me for suggesting it. It seems all I can hope for now is that the lord steward listens to you.”
He started down to the courtyard towards the slayers, who were still deep in conversation with Volk, and left von Volgen at the wall, still gazing out over the endless zombie horde.
“Not yet,” said Gotrek, as he looked down over the eastern battlements towards the dike. “Not yet.”
“Don’t leave it too late, herr Slayer,” said von Geldrecht anxiously. “We no longer have enough men to mount a proper defence.”
“And whose fault is that?” muttered Kat.
Felix shot her a warning glance, then looked out towards the woods. After a long day of repairs and preparations, dusk was falling, and the horde was coming, in force this time. The men along the walls were already snagging ladders and lopping heads as the zombies began their ceaseless climbing. Beyond them, Felix saw the three new towers being dragged forwards by fresh gangs of skinned beast-zombies, while five trebuchets pitched stones, burning zombies and putrid corpses over the walls. A new weapon was trundling forwards as well, a long low contraption that was aimed straight for the front gate. It was roofed like the hoardings, and wheeled like a cart, and a huge battering-ram swung on chains beneath it, capped at the front with what looked like the skull of some knobby, mutated giant, crested with a ridge of iron spikes down the centre.
“That reminds Snorri of something,” said Snorri.
“It reminds me of Snorri Nosebiter heading for the privy,” said Rodi.
“No,” said Snorri. “That wasn’t it.”
Felix shifted his gaze to the dike. Just as Gotrek had predicted, the zombies guarding it were beginning to drift towards the walls, drawn like moths by the noise and violence to join their dead brethren in climbing the walls.
“Now,” said Gotrek. “Lower the charges.” Volk nodded and signalled to two men who held a rope, at the end of which were looped four knapsacks, each bulging with blackpowder charges. A third man shoved the knapsacks off the battlements, and the men with the rope started lowering them down as Gotrek and Rodi tied other ropes around their waists and stepped to the wall. Snorri took up the slack in Gotrek’s rope while three more of Volk’s gunners did the same with Rodi’s.
“Ready,” said Gotrek and Rodi together, and stepped backwards off the battlements as Snorri and the gunners began to pay out the ropes.
Felix held his breath for the duration of the slayers’ descent, and Kat put an arrow to her bow and scanned the sky for bats or other spying eyes, but they were not spotted. They reached the ground without incident, then untied themselves and drew their axes while the rope slithered back up the wall. Then it was Felix and Volk’s turn.
“Don’t worry, young Felix,” said Snorri, as Felix tied the rope around his waist and the old slayer drew in the slack. “Snorri won’t drop you.”
“That is the least of my fears, Snorri,” said Felix.
He gave Kat a nervous little salute, then stepped back off the wall and began to walk his way down beside Volk as Snorri and the gunners let out their ropes hand over hand.
As he descended, Felix’s eyes darted nervously from the sky to the ground to the dike, expecting any second to see the zombies stumbling back around the corner, or the bats wheeling out of the sky towards them. To be caught dangling halfway down the wall by those flying slashers would be a nightmare. But despite his fears, he and Volk made it safely to the narrow strip of bulrushes beside the rushing Reik, and sank to their ankles in cold mud.
Volk hooked a flickering glass storm lantern to his belt, then grunted one of the packs onto his shoulders and held the other out to Felix.
“Here y’are, Herr Jaeger,” he said, grinning. “Yer very own bundle o’ joy.”
Felix smiled weakly as he stuck his arms through the straps and humped the thing up high between his shoulders. He was never at his most comfortable with explosives strapped to his back. It made h
im itch.
“Stay low. Stay quiet,” said Gotrek, and turned and strode into the river.
Felix, Rodi and Volk slipped in after him. The water was freezing and the current strong and very swift, even so close to the bank, but the bulk of the zombies were just on the other side of the sawgrass-covered mound that ran parallel to the river, and if the men and the slayers didn’t want to be seen, they had to remain as low as possible for as long as possible.
They trudged east along the river for about forty paces, but as they neared the dike, the bank began to narrow further, while the shallows grew steeper and the current swifter, until they came at last to the heavy stone flanks of the dike, looming up out of the water like the entrance to some massive, algae-covered mausoleum. Here the shallows fell away completely and the muddy bank disappeared into a roaring roil of crosscurrents.
Unable to continue in the river, Gotrek, Felix, Rodi and Volk climbed out onto the sloping stone shoulder and raised their heads just high enough to look over it. Felix shivered.
Seen from the ground, the panorama of Kemmler’s horde on the move was even more horrific than when looked down upon from the walls. Thousands upon thousands of undead staggered forwards in an endless shambling mass, while the twisted hive towers lurched and swayed above them like living things, and the ghouls howled from their tops. The towers were halfway to the castle now and closing fast, and the covered battering-ram was moving even faster, and would reach the main gate in mere minutes. And while the rest of the undead army surged ahead, the trebuchets had hunkered down like spiders crouching to spring and launched stones and flaming corpses towards the walls with clockwork regularity. How could Castle Reikguard’s beleaguered garrison hope to stop such a vast and terrifying host? Felix found it hard to imagine that even the combined might of the Empire could do it.
“Work fast,” said Gotrek. “We’ll be in plain sight.” He pointed at Volk. “You and the manling will set your charges behind the top beam. Balkisson and I will set the lower, then pass our fuses up to you. You will bring them back here, to the bank, out of view.”
“Aye, herr Slayer,” said Volk.
Gotrek held his eye. “And you will not light them until I say.”
Volk swallowed, then nodded. “Understood, herr Slayer.”
“Then, go,” said Gotrek.
And with that, he and Rodi ran left to drop down into the moat. Felix and Volk scrambled up the stone bank to the top, keeping as low as they could, then looked down into the channel at the big oak doors. Up close, they were even more impressive than they had appeared from the castle. They were so thick Felix could have walked across the top of them to the far bank without narrowing his stride, and so tall a giant couldn’t have looked over them, while the reinforcing bands of iron that criss-crossed them and bound the oak timbers together were inches thick.
Nor did any of the dike’s strength or thickness seem less than necessary. The water beat against the doors with a constant deafening thunder that drowned even the rumble of the siege towers as they approached the castle. Felix could feel the power of it through the soles of his boots.
Volk pointed down to the upper of the two beams that held the doors closed. The bottom one stretched across the doors at a height of about five feet from the floor of the moat, while the upper one lay across them about five feet below the top. Both were as big around as tree trunks, and slotted firmly into holes in the stone banks.
“How do ye fancy dropping down to that while I pass ye the charges?” Volk asked.
Felix swallowed. The crossbeam might be thick, but balancing on it while trying to manoeuvre explosives into place didn’t sound very appealing. “Fancy would be too strong a term,” he said, taking off his pack. “But it’s what I came for.”
Felix gripped the top of the door and lowered himself to the beam. The wood thrummed under his hand with the rush of water behind it, and as his feet touched the beam, he could feel it flex as the doors pressed against it. He shivered. This would not be the place to be when those doors finally opened.
He glanced towards the horde again as he reached up to Volk, but none of the undead seemed to be looking their way. All the zombies were trudging towards the castle or crowding around the ladders, and the ghouls that swarmed the tops of the siege towers were too far away. A glance at the sky unfortunately told him nothing. It was too dark to see any circling bats.
Volk looped a coil of matchcord around his wrist, then leaned down with a pipe charge. “Go to the middle and wedge it tight as you can between the door and the beam. Then come back for the second.”
Felix nearly overbalanced as he took the thing. It was heavier than he expected. He righted himself with a wild flail, then leaned back against the door and began sidestepping towards the centre, heart pounding, as the matchcord paid out behind him.
When he reached the middle of the doors he knelt and set the charge behind the beam in a gap between two of the iron bands. He pushed down on the charge to wedge it tight. Below him, the slayers were doing the same. Rodi had climbed up onto the lower beam, while Gotrek lifted the charges up to him.
When his charge was as well seated as he could make it, Felix crossed back to Volk, who handed him down the second charge.
“It seems a small amount of powder,” said Felix, cradling it more carefully this time, “to break such big doors.”
Volk gave him a hideous half-melted smile. “Ah, well, the water’s doing most of the work, y’see. All the charges need to do is make a little crack, and the water will bust ’em wide.”
Felix carried the second charge back along the beam and set it beside the first, then looked down as he heard a hiss from below. “Manling. Here.”
One at a time, Gotrek tossed up the two coils of matchcord that ran from the bottom charges. Felix caught them and slipped them onto his right arm, then walked to Volk.
“Well done, mein herr,” said Volk as he took the fuses. “Them dead bastards won’t know what hit ’em.”
He added the slayers’ coils to the two from the top charges, then helped Felix onto the stone bank, and together they crept back down to the riverbank, Volk paying out the four lines of matchcord behind him.
The slayers joined them a moment later, then crawled up on hands and knees to watch over the embankment. Behind them, Volk braided the ends of the four fuses together into a single rope, then unhooked the storm lantern from his belt and set it beside them. Its flame flickered brightly inside its glass chimney. “Ready when you are, herr Slayer,” he said. “Not yet,” said Gotrek.
Felix edged up beside the slayers and looked out over the field. The siege towers and the battering-rams were close enough now that the castle’s cannons were taking shots at them. A ball punched through the nearest tower, and an explosion of earth and flying zombies erupted near the battering-ram, but not near enough. The thing crawled on, and a shot from a third cannon missed too.
“Damned bats!” growled Volk, glaring up at the swarms that clattered around the gun positions. “Spoiling our aim.”
“They should save their shot,” said Gotrek.
“You’re so sure, mein herr?” asked Volk.
Gotrek didn’t answer, only watched the siege towers with unblinking intensity as they neared the dry moat. The zombies were doing the same thing they had done during the previous attack, swarming forwards to fill the dry ditch so the towers and their gangs of skinned beasts could use them as a bridge to cross the gap. More were doing the same for the battering-ram.
“Get ready,” said Gotrek as the first of the beast-zombie teams stepped out onto its bridge of corpses.
“Aye,” said Volk, and backed down the slope. “Ready.”
Felix held his breath. The battering-ram was starting across its corpse bridge now, and the tower beyond it was nearly at the moat, while the middle tower was just beginning to cross. But as Gotrek raised his arm, the closest tower suddenly slowed as its team stumbled and became bogged down in its bridge of piled bodies.
There was a hollow boom from the gates. The ram had struck. Ghouls were locking off its wheels and driving long stakes down into the bank of the moat to hold it in place, while huge dead beasts swung the ram forwards and back on its chains in a ponderous rhythm—boom… boom… boom…
“Pull, you laggards,” Rodi growled as the near tower slowed even further. “Pull!”
“Slayers,” said Volk, “do we dare wait? They’re knocking down our gates!”
“They’ll hold a while,” said Gotrek, not looking around. “I want them all.”
“Gotrek,” said Felix, grinding his teeth. “You won’t get any of them if you wait too long—”
A giant bat slammed down face first right in front of him, an arrow jutting from the back of its broken neck.
SIXTEEN
Felix and Volk flinched back as the slayers looked up. Another bat jerked sideways in the sky above them and pinwheeled to the ground, an arrow in its eye, but there were more coming, screeching and swooping down at them, wings furled. They had been spotted.
“Now, gunner!” barked Gotrek, drawing his axe as Rodi and Felix drew as well. “Now!”
“Aye,” said Volk.
He turned to lift the glass from the lantern, but as he bent, a bat crashed into him and knocked him flailing into the river.
“Volk!” cried Felix.
He sprang up, slashing, but two more bats slammed into him, driving him over the brink, and he too plunged into the waves.
The cold shock of it froze him for a second, but then he was smashed into the bank by the current and came up gasping as the water dragged him along, his knees scraping the rocky mud. Before he could find his feet, heavy wings flashed overhead and dropped towards the slayers as he finally got purchase.
“Krell!” he croaked, and tried to pull himself out, but then something grabbed him from behind and jerked him back into the water.
[Gotrek & Felix 12] - Zombieslayer Page 21