Chapter 45
— And do you have enough gold for that, Umgi? — as the Dwarf spoke, his face grew even redder than when he was arm-wrestling me. — I will accept no more stakes or wagers.
— It is enough, Master. Do not worry, — I replied with a smile, inspecting a high-quality cuirass. An Imperial equilateral cross with a skull at its center was engraved upon the chest.
The Dwarf likely believed we would hardly have enough coin for anything expensive even with a fifty-percent discount; however, he was quite out of luck. He stood to lose far more than five shillings on his bet with me. Using the discount, I intended to buy the armor I had lost after the Hellcannon shot. To start, I was eyeing options for torso protection.
Two other traders were hovering near the cuirass—appraisers brought in to ensure the terms of the contract were upheld. We couldn't have the honorable seller applying a discount to a specially inflated price. This wasn't Eldorado on Black Friday; such tricks wouldn't fly here.
— Remarkable steel... Tempering... hmmm... — muttered the gray-bearded Dwarf appraiser, whose thick fingers were covered in massive rings. — Twenty-five Crowns. And what say you, Herr Petters?
— Without a doubt, twenty-five gold Crowns, — the human trader agreed. — Minus half, that makes twelve and a half.
At those words, the veins on the seller's forehead bulged. It seemed he was about to pounce on either me or the appraisers.
— Dishonest robbery... — the seller hissed through gritted teeth. — I am certain you cheated somehow, Umgi.
— You said yourself that it wouldn't help, — I shrugged. — The secret is actually simple. Prayer. Sigmar heard me and granted strength to a soldier of the Emperor. Besides the cuirass, I need protection for my arms, head, shins, and, of course, a codpiece.
Just in case I try to kiss Liandra again and she responds more decisively. With a knee to the groin, for instance.
I began trying on various pieces of equipment. While I had managed to guess correctly and choose a suitable cuirass immediately, the helmets were often too large, too small, or simply uncomfortable.
I tried on a sallet with a bellows visor. It was lackluster. The field of vision through the narrow slit was quite dismal. During a fight, this would severely limit my potential. I had to look for something with an open face. Ultimately, my choice fell on a burgonet. A model with a peak and a reinforcing ridge along the skull. It was a bit large for me, but a well-fitted padded coif would fix the situation.
Another difficult choice was arm protection. On one hand, I could pick out gauntlets, but on the other hand, it would complicate my ability to use pistols. Though in a mass engagement, I didn't need them that much anyway. I still reload far too slowly. Plus, my main task is to fight on the front line. That is where my special skills shine brightest.
With a heavy heart, I decided to take the gauntlets. I would wear them for the decisive battle against Tamurkhan's horde and lend the pistols to someone else.
In total, my acquisitions consisted of the burgonet, the cuirass, gauntlets, greaves attached to poleyns, and the codpiece. I could have added cuisses, pauldrons, and sabatons, but even with the fifty-percent involuntary discount from the seller, we had to shell out a significant sum.
The angry Dwarf received all the truly valuable Skaven gifts—coins, rings, chains, and even the gold teeth.
— By Grimnir, what gutter did you find this in!? — the seller exclaimed in outrage.
— Echoes of war, — I replied modestly. — And besides, Master Dwarf, do not fixate on the form. Gold is gold. Coins, jewelry, teeth—it is all one. Proportions are relative, and boundaries are blurred. I am no holy hermit; I do not live by alms alone. And if I must choose between one gold and another, I prefer to choose it all at once.
— I rarely hear anything sensible from an Umgi, but on this I agree, — the Dwarf replied grudgingly. — You still owe six Crowns, three shillings, and six pence.
With the help of Adora and Erik, I counted out what was due to the Dwarf. I can only hope this gear lasts longer than the previous set. There wasn't much money left. Well, how much is "not much"? My personal reserves amounted to about nine Crowns and seven shillings. More than a peasant earns in a year. However, equipment is expensive, and good equipment is even more so. Until the next big payday, I shouldn't dream of new serious additions to the arsenal.
After buying my armor, we went in search of a cannon for Magg. Nuln, it seemed, was perfect for such purchases. However, on the eve of a grand battle, gunpowder supplies and the artillery arsenal were under strict control. Especially large-caliber guns, which was exactly what Magg wanted. To all our questions, the answer was roughly the same:
— Forgive us, gentlemen, by order of the Countess. When the damned Chaosites arrive, all guns must be on the walls or before the city.
— But I'm gonna be... I'll be before the city myself! — Magg protested. — I'll be smashing Chaosites. Give me a lead-spitter!
At first, the engineers resisted, but our persistence, solvency, and likely the Ogre's less-than-fresh breath bore fruit.
— Full-sized cannons are not for sale right now, but there are light pieces to which the Countess's order does not apply, — a respectable-looking engineer explained. — How about a falconet? We have an excellent double-barreled specimen. For a reasonable price, we can refit it specifically for... hmmm... manual use.
— Double-barr... — Magg frowned, then brightened up instead. — Two barrels?! Give it here, skinny. I got the gold, you hand over the lead-spitter.
Magg didn't have enough gold, so I had to chip in another three Crowns and seven shillings from the unit's common treasury. Fortunately, thanks to Rudolf Hoch's efforts, we had already been paid an advance for participating in the next battle. The engineers promised to complete our order in a couple of days.
After the cannon, I went to look for a new shield for myself. My choice fell on a standard Imperial infantry model with an elbow grip. Luckily, this purchase only cost one Crown. That left eight Crowns and seven shillings.
— Shields are unreliable and restrict your movement, — Liandra spoke to me as we were about to leave the city. — You should train in the mastery of the longblade. Only with it can the strength and speed of your body be turned entirely toward the enemy's undoing.
An interesting thought. Even the set of armor I have now will block a significant portion of projectiles. Arrows and stones are no longer as terrifying. The cuirass is also invulnerable to a spear. The need for a shield is diminishing. However, for now, it is still much safer to go into battle with one. Besides, there's no money for a longsword right now.
— Will you teach me? — I asked Liandra.
— Yes. We have already discussed this. We shall attend to training until the enemy reaches the city.
Then, after leaving the city, we fell slightly behind our comrades. The elf leaned closer to me and spoke in her own tongue:
— You are developing at an astounding rate. I remember not long ago when there was a fragile and slow human cub before me. Now you can already match the strength of the Mountain Folk, who always boast of their physical might.
— Humans grow up fast, — I joked.
— You are no human, Gil, — the point-ear countered, and the phrase sounded like... a compliment? — Do not forget that.
— Just make sure you don't forget, — I replied, and we quickened our pace to catch up with the rest of the unit.
The trip to the city was a success. Tonight, meat will be delivered to our camp. The very meat I had a hand—and a knife—in preparing. A great feast for the entire unit is coming. We will need the strength and good spirits. Next, I planned to butter up the local quartermasters. Since we are now official mercenaries of the provincial army, I must try to scrounge some gear for the unit. Rent it or buy it. I was especially interested in ranged weapons and armor. To get at least helmets for a portion of the unit. If that fails, I'll have to buy them with my own funds.
Tons of plans. If only there were enough time and, of course, money for everything. I wonder, if my finances approach the critical mark, will any other Dwarf agree to arm-wrestle me? I really hope so.
INTERLUDE. Elspeth von Draken.
The Gardens of Morr were an integral part of any major Imperial city. In their silence, among the gravestones, black roses bloomed, saturated with the energy of Shyish. The Wind of Death.
The Nuln cemetery was surrounded by a high fence with sharp spikes. Armed guards stood at the gates. The dead needed protection no less than the living, and sometimes even more.
In recent days, the Morrish priests had been watching the cemetery grounds with particular care. The forces of evil were closing the ring around the city. Darkness lurked in every corner. Few followers of the god of the underworld doubted that the agents of evil might stretch their claws toward the Gardens of Morr and disturb the eternal peace of the citizens buried there. Human access to the cemetery was restricted. Even the inconsolable relatives of the recently deceased were not allowed through, despite pleas, threats, and bribes.
However, for one individual, the Morrists were willing to make an exception. For her, whose lonely blackened tower had stood for more than three generations beyond the edge of the Gardens of Morr, on the outskirts of great Nuln. Mothers used her to frighten their children. Every few years, some especially "gifted" Witch Hunter would decide to stick his nose into her business and vanish forever.
The Graveyard Rose, the dark Lady of Nuln, Elspeth von Draken, stood at night in the center of a circle of black candles whose smokeless flames were the color of amethyst. Along the perimeter, vague silhouettes of people occasionally emerged among the shadows. Phantoms barely visible even to a sorcerous gaze. Some of them seemed not to notice the enchantress. Others, on the contrary, stretched ghostly hands toward her as if in supplication.
Elspeth von Draken read a spell in a measured, slightly chanting tone, one long forgotten by most sorcerers of her Order. Obeying the enchantress's words, one of the phantoms began to take shape. It became denser and brighter. Soon, through the darkness, one could discern the facial features of an elderly man, distorted by a grimace of despair.
— Olger Hoch, — the enchantress spoke. — Will you speak with me?
— Yes... — echoed through the graveyard.
The dead man's voice resembled the whistle of a winter wind in an open window.
Calling upon the souls of the dead would be considered necromancy by a significant portion of the Empire's population; however, the most skillful and daring adepts of the Amethyst Order knew exactly where the line was drawn. A sorcerer may summon the spirit of the deceased and speak with it, but not compel it to obedience. That was the difference between a Magister and a Necromancer.
— How did you die? — the enchantress asked.
— I tried to slay Tamurkhan. I failed. I let everyone down. My sword... Return my sword!
— Quiet your thoughts, Margrave, — the enchantress replied in an icy tone. — Do not let emotions overwhelm you. Nuln still stands. The enemy is dangerous, but we have chances for victory. Help your compatriots. Tell me of the forces of Tamurkhan's horde.
And Hoch began to speak, describing the course of the lost battle to the Amethyst enchantress. When the ghost had laid out all the details, he added one question:
— My nephew Rudolf?
— Alive and unharmed. He has already reached Nuln. You did all you could, Margrave, and even a little beyond that, — the enchantress spoke. — Rest in peace.
And with a flick of the scythe that served as Elspeth's staff, the phantom dissipated, and the enchantress thoughtfully repeated:
— Did all they could and even a little beyond that.
The following morning, Elspeth von Draken went to the court of Countess Emmanuelle von Liebwitz. The grim enchantress was a member of Nuln's high society, but she visited not for the sake of intrigue or idle pastime. Each of her visits promised important news.
Countess Emmanuelle preferred to meet the sorceress on a private veranda. It was a true winter garden, where evergreen exotic trees grew under a glazed ceiling. Emmanuelle sat on a small red velvet sofa while a dark-skinned servant, with practiced movements, carefully rubbed moisturizing cream into her white palms.
Behind the sofa loomed the massive figure of Theodore Bruckner—champion and executioner in the service of Countess Emmanuelle von Liebwitz. This giant inspired terror by his mere appearance, but even he tried not to meet the gaze of Elspeth von Draken.
Upon seeing the enchantress, the Countess gestured for the servant to leave, and Theodore, like a guard dog, circled the winter garden in search of curious ears. Finding none, he stepped out and stood guard at the door so his mistress could speak with von Draken without witnesses.
— You are positively spoiling me with your attention these last few days, — the Countess smirked, inviting the enchantress to sit beside her, but von Draken remained standing. — Tell me, dear Elspeth, is there even one tiny chance of seeing you at the ball? For example, this Thursday I intend to...
For the next seventeen minutes, von Draken impassively listened to the Countess's immediate plans for entertainment events. Finally, when Emmanuelle repeated her invitation to the ball, Elspeth replied:
— Likely not. I have come to inform you of important news, Lady von Liebwitz. A few weeks ago, I gave a promise not to hide anything from you regarding the defense of the city. At that time, I told you of a prophecy passed to me from the Celestial College.
— Yes. I remember, — Emmanuelle said, rising from the sofa. — You, the charming Elspeth, promised us victory over this terrible Tamarkan or whatever he is called? You said the mages of the Celestial College predicted everything very accurately. We only have to fulfill the prophecy. Then, by the grace of Sigmar, Verena, and Myrmidia, we shall be rid of the Cockroa... the terrible barbarian chieftain.
— You remembered my words correctly; however, since then, something has changed. Events have gone against the prophecy.
— Really? — the Countess grew wary, stepping closer to von Draken. — Is that bad? Are we failing?
— No, Lady von Liebwitz. For now, you are doing everything exactly according to my recommendations.
— So then the diviners of the Celestial College were mistaken?
— That is also ruled out. Some of their prophecies are misty and ambiguous, but at turning points in history, with the full favor of the celestial bodies, the accuracy of a prophecy cannot be questioned. That is exactly what I received from the Order.
— Then what is the matter?
— Someone is accidentally, or more likely consciously, interfering with the flow of fate.
— A Chaos sorcerer?
— Possibly, but not necessarily. The main strangeness is that events are deviating from the prophecy in our favor. Margrave Hoch's army was destined to perish entirely at Pfeildorf, buying us time with their sacrifice. But, as you know, many warriors survived and were able to reach Nuln.
— Well, that's wonderful! — the Countess's mood shifted sharply from wary to carefree. — Perhaps some grumbling priest was finally useful and was heard by the gods. They have gifted us their grace, for the undoing of all those Chaosite freaks.
— Whether it is wonderful or not is hard to say yet, — Elspeth countered. — The pattern of fate is complex. Even acting with good intentions, one can irrevocably damage it. We must find the cause of the current events' deviation from the prophecy. We should look among the survivors of the battle at Pfeildorf and those who met Hoch's army before the fight.
— So that is why you asked me to speak with Rudolf Hoch?
— Yes.
— A pleasant boy, but far too grim. He killed some one-eyed filth near the city. A mutant sorcerer, probably.
— You seemed very keen on having me at the ball, Lady von Liebwitz?
— Of course! It would be the event of the year! The Graveyard Rose in the flowerbed of the Nuln palace. Surely you aren't agreeing, Elspeth?
— You have a chance, but first, I shall determine the guest list myself. Rudolf Hoch and all his closest inner circle must absolutely be present.