the table trumpeted with laughter. The Ostlander across from him gave both Kislevites a damning look. They had lost their country months ago. Most of the men in the room were feeling the loss of theirs only now. Felix merely bowed his head, part of him determined never to look up again.
Altdorf had been more than just a distant symbol. It had been hope.
It had been his hope.
‘We should head south,’ said Gustav, taking a steadying breath and striding forwards to plant a finger on one of the clearer portions of the map. ‘Averheim, say. It’s a long way, but it should be as far from the northern and eastern prongs of the Chaos incursion. The Emperor has to rally his forces somewhere and it’s as likely a place as any.’
‘How far?’ asked a slender, faintly well-born man in scuffed leather armour and a steel breastplate with a big dent over the right breast and a burgundy sash over the opposite shoulder.
‘Where are we now, anyway?’ added another man, this one in forester’s gear with an unstrung bow over his shoulder, leaning over the maps.
‘We’re shadowing the Talabec Road. A few days out from Talabheim.’ Gotrek tightened his arms about his chest and grumbled: ‘Assuming we ever move again.’
‘Talabheim?’ Mann started, before Gotrek guillotined whatever he had wanted to say with a glare.
The Slayer sat stubbornly, but something forlorn in the Hochlander’s face made him grudgingly relent. ‘Spit it out before you get a nosebleed. Another one .’
‘Forgive me again, master dwarf, but you’re nowhere Talabheim. Fortunately, for it’s fallen too. You’re in Hochland.’
‘Bah!’ said Gotrek, rising suddenly and stamping a foot upon the ground, setting his nose-chain to clinking. ‘Talabecland, or I’m a treeman.’
‘I saw mountains from the hill, Gotrek,’ said Felix quietly. He didn’t want to put himself into another argument with the Slayer, but you couldn’t disagree with a mountain. And what did it matter now anyway?
Altdorf had fallen.
‘There are no mountains in Talabecland, manling,’ said Gotrek as if that settled it.
‘My lord, if you’ll forgive me?’ Corporal Mann raised a hooked elbow that Felix took to pull the man up. The man stumbled against him, giving a sour hit of days-old sweat and armour grease, and then moved towards the map table. He pressed his finger into the map. The grimy digit fell on a bull-horned icon surrounded by double-ringed walls and set amidst a proliferation of barren-looking mountains.
‘We were following the main road north out of Hergig to Wolfenburg and have been for about five days. As I said, Talabheim fell the autumn before last after a six-month siege. Hergig’s always been off the main road and it’s been a blessing of late, enough for the city to hold out until now.’
‘What changed?’ said Gustav.
‘A warlord named–’ Mann’s lips contorted around the foreign name ‘– Khagash-Fél . I’m told it means “Half-Ogre” because he has the strength and stature of five men.’
‘Is that all?’ Gotrek grunted.
‘It was he that broke the walls of Hergig,’ said Mann, somewhat defensively.
‘Walls of questionable standard from the outset, no doubt.’
‘Sounds like mighty doom to me,’ muttered Kolya, off-hand around a mouthful of half-chewed herbal sludge.
‘Do you deliberately taunt me with things I cannot have, rememberer? I can have no doom. Not until the manling is safe within the walls of Altdorf and at the little one’s side.’
Felix heard the incongruous sound of laughter and to his astonishment found it was his, bleak and despairing, slow as the death of his world. ‘Have you heard a word anyone’s been saying, Gotrek? Altdorf is gone. Kat is gone. The Empire is gone .’ His voice rose steadily, emphasising each additional loss with a thump of his hand.
‘To hold and to protect, manling,’ Gotrek intoned, voice sinking to a cavernous timbre. ‘To keep forever from the earth until
Altdorf had been more than just a distant symbol. It had been hope.
It had been his hope.
‘We should head south,’ said Gustav, taking a steadying breath and striding forwards to plant a finger on one of the clearer portions of the map. ‘Averheim, say. It’s a long way, but it should be as far from the northern and eastern prongs of the Chaos incursion. The Emperor has to rally his forces somewhere and it’s as likely a place as any.’
‘How far?’ asked a slender, faintly well-born man in scuffed leather armour and a steel breastplate with a big dent over the right breast and a burgundy sash over the opposite shoulder.
‘Where are we now, anyway?’ added another man, this one in forester’s gear with an unstrung bow over his shoulder, leaning over the maps.
‘We’re shadowing the Talabec Road. A few days out from Talabheim.’ Gotrek tightened his arms about his chest and grumbled: ‘Assuming we ever move again.’
‘Talabheim?’ Mann started, before Gotrek guillotined whatever he had wanted to say with a glare.
The Slayer sat stubbornly, but something forlorn in the Hochlander’s face made him grudgingly relent. ‘Spit it out before you get a nosebleed. Another one .’
‘Forgive me again, master dwarf, but you’re nowhere Talabheim. Fortunately, for it’s fallen too. You’re in Hochland.’
‘Bah!’ said Gotrek, rising suddenly and stamping a foot upon the ground, setting his nose-chain to clinking. ‘Talabecland, or I’m a treeman.’
‘I saw mountains from the hill, Gotrek,’ said Felix quietly. He didn’t want to put himself into another argument with the Slayer, but you couldn’t disagree with a mountain. And what did it matter now anyway?
Altdorf had fallen.
‘There are no mountains in Talabecland, manling,’ said Gotrek as if that settled it.
‘My lord, if you’ll forgive me?’ Corporal Mann raised a hooked elbow that Felix took to pull the man up. The man stumbled against him, giving a sour hit of days-old sweat and armour grease, and then moved towards the map table. He pressed his finger into the map. The grimy digit fell on a bull-horned icon surrounded by double-ringed walls and set amidst a proliferation of barren-looking mountains.
‘We were following the main road north out of Hergig to Wolfenburg and have been for about five days. As I said, Talabheim fell the autumn before last after a six-month siege. Hergig’s always been off the main road and it’s been a blessing of late, enough for the city to hold out until now.’
‘What changed?’ said Gustav.
‘A warlord named–’ Mann’s lips contorted around the foreign name ‘– Khagash-Fél . I’m told it means “Half-Ogre” because he has the strength and stature of five men.’
‘Is that all?’ Gotrek grunted.
‘It was he that broke the walls of Hergig,’ said Mann, somewhat defensively.
‘Walls of questionable standard from the outset, no doubt.’
‘Sounds like mighty doom to me,’ muttered Kolya, off-hand around a mouthful of half-chewed herbal sludge.
‘Do you deliberately taunt me with things I cannot have, rememberer? I can have no doom. Not until the manling is safe within the walls of Altdorf and at the little one’s side.’
Felix heard the incongruous sound of laughter and to his astonishment found it was his, bleak and despairing, slow as the death of his world. ‘Have you heard a word anyone’s been saying, Gotrek? Altdorf is gone. Kat is gone. The Empire is gone .’ His voice rose steadily, emphasising each additional loss with a thump of his hand.
‘To hold and to protect, manling,’ Gotrek intoned, voice sinking to a cavernous timbre. ‘To keep forever from the earth until
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