The Thirteenth Fang, Chapter 8

The rolling hills and scraggy brush plodded by, and Titus rubbed at his face. He wasn’t exactly sleepy, it was midmorning after all, but he also had the soldier’s knack for sleeping whenever he could. That would be foolish here: the wilderness was famous for its many hazards, and there could be anything from bandits, to greenskins, to more mutants waiting just over a rocky ridge and looking for an opportune moment to attack.

Normally, Freya would have been chatty, but she was rather silent this morning, and Titus wasn’t exactly a sterling conversationalist. He’d made a few overtures, but when he’d been answered in monosyllables and Freya had gone back to reading her book, he’d given up and just enjoyed the silence. He kept scanning the horizon, head moving constantly, but he was in that sort of half aware state of nothingness that allowed long and weary hours to race by with no recollection of their passing.

The only real source of concern wasn’t orks or bandits though, but rather the angry stares from Gotrek the Slayer, and the uncomfortable glances from Felix. Titus found it irritating, but Freya was so involved in her book that she didn’t seem to notice at all. Titus had never really been one for reading himself, but Zelda had always had her nose in some book when she wasn’t raising hell, so simply let Freya be and passed the morning in pleasant numbness.

For the midday meal, the party stopped under a grove of thin willow trees along the banks of a stony creek. There was some grass for the horses, and Titus let their mounts off on a hobble to get their meal, while the party set about having their own lunch. Normally it would have been a simple cold meal, but one of the wagons had cracked an axle, and with no fresh water for the rest of the day, the train was reluctantly halted to effect repairs.

That meant a hot lunch, which Titus was quite delighted by. It was a simple meal, beans and bacon with some day-old bread, but it was tasty enough. Before the meal though, Freya went off around the bend to bathe.

“No peeking,” she said, giving Titus a wink. “But you can have your turn later.”

“Feh. He’s not an elf, he’s a man,” Gotrek grunted.

Freya gave Gotrek a look, sniffed, and flounced off, leaving the others behind. Titus was tempted to peek, but decided against angering the demigod that could throw fireballs at him.

Felix let out a heavy sigh. “Gotrek, I myself wouldn’t mind a quick bath while the wheelwright does his work.”

“You could use one, dwarf,” Titus agreed.

“Are you commenting on my smell, manling?” Gotrek said, bristling. “It’s a good smell, a dwarfish smell! Not like some nancy elf.”

“You smell the same as the rest of us, which is to say like stale sweat and rancid beer,” Titus said, glaring at the dwarf.

“Do you insult my honor?!” Gotrek thundered, standing up and gripping his axe.

Titus rolled his eyes. “I said I smell the same. We’ve been on the road for several days. Don’t dwarves bathe?”

“Not often,” Felix muttered, which earned him a glare from Gotrek.

“Whose side are you on then? Would you rather follow around some flighty knife ears than witness my heroic doom?” Gotrek demanded.

“I made an oath, and I intend to keep it. But I also intend to do so while clean. You wouldn’t want me to have to record you died smelling as bad as the monster you slew, would you?” Felix asked, his tone rather rhetorical.

Gotrek paused at that. “It’s not traditional to write about how someone smells when they die. Unless, perhaps, they’re Snori Nosebitter. Can smell him a mile off.”

“There, then it’s settled. We’ll have a nice bath. And leave the poor girl alone, Gotrek. She’s done naught to offend you,” Felix pointed out.

“Girl!? She’s a hundred or I’ll shave my beard,” Gotrek spat. “Can never tell with elves. Don’t smell right. Don’t look right. Don’t appreciate proper food. She didn’t even have her beans.”

“Oh come off it. Freya will eat the beans when she comes back,” Titus said in exasperation.

Gotrek turned to him, a gleam in his eye. “Oh, I doubt it. And do you know why, manling?”

“Because you think elves have a bean allergy?” Titus said, feeling exasperated.

“No. Because-” Gotrek lifted his leg, and from the dwarf emanated the loudest, smelliest fart that Titus had ever smelt witness to. That was actually quite something, as he’d spent a great deal of time around soldiers who had no compunctions against breaking wind, and actually made it something of a sport. What came out of Gotrek was the sort of thing that smelled like something had crawled up inside the dwarf and died, and lasted for half a minute. By the time he was done, Felix was coughing and had evacuated his position on a tree stump by Gotrek, with Titus and several others standing and backing away.

“Because you’ve never seen an elf fart, have you!” Gotrek roared, laughing uproariously. “Not like a proper dwarf!”

“Gods, I think it’s more than beans that’s gotten into you,” Titus complained, waving the air before his face. “What was that for?”

“To prove a point,” Gotrek said, then sat back down and proceeded to enjoy his lunch and beer mostly alone.

Titus sat with the rest of the men a few feet away, all of them casting unhappy glances at Gotrek. None of them were willing to get close to the dwarf, which seemed to please the slayer just fine.

A few minutes later though, Freya returned, wearing a fresh riding dress and with her hair done up above her head. She seemed rather distracted, which wasn’t that unusual, taking another book out of her bag and serving herself from the pot before sitting down across from Gotrek. She ate as she read for a moment, before realizing that everyone was staring at her, with Gotrek giving her a tooth baring grin. Freya blinked, then blushed slightly. “Ah, your pardon, Master Gotrek.”

“Notice anything different, elf?” Gotrek asked, his grin growing rather nasty.

“Er…” Freya looked around helplessly, then peered into her bowl of beans. “The food is…good? Did you make it?”

At that, Gotrek looked rather disappointed. “No. But I did make something else.”

“Ah. Well, the fire is quite lovely,” Freya said, then went back to reading, apparently deciding her conversational duties were attended to.

Gotrek, who had not made the fire, looked rather offended. Then an evil grin stole across his face, and his brow furrowed as he concentrated.

Realizing what was coming, Titus stood. “Ah, Freya, perhaps we should-”

Before he could finish, Gotrek let out a much less impressive, but still rather loud and smelly, fart.

Freya wrinkled her nose, but simply turned the page in her book without looking up. “Yes, Titus?”

“Er, well, I was just thinking that perhaps-”

“If you wish to bathe, I shan’t peek,” Freya said absently. “At least one of you will smell somewhat pleasant.”

“See. Told you elves can’t stand a proper outdoor meal,” Gotrek said, and belched. Then lifted up one side of his buttocks, and let out another burst of flatulence.

Freya’s mouth firmed into a thin line. “Master Dwarf. I do not find the meal lacking. Only the manners of my company.”

“So, you would cast aspersions upon my race?” Gotrek asked, jumping to his feet.

“Race? No. Gender. Most definitely,” Freya said, then took her bowl and book and walked off towards a stump at the edge of camp. “Though if someone remembers to bathe and mind his manners, perhaps I will not find riding with him so onerous later.”

Gotrek stared after her, his mouth opening and closing for a moment.

At that point, Titus, Felix, Master Handler, and several of the other guards all stood.

“Think I’ll have a bath. I’ve some soap, if you need some,” Felix told Titus.

“I have a bar,” Titus said blithely, trying not to wince. Freya had made a few pointed remarks that had led to him buying it, as normally he wouldn’t have bothered.

“Cowards,” Gotrek grumbled, as the others all went to bathe.

For her part, Freya waited until all the men were gone. Then she very deliberately lowered her book, lifted herself slightly, and broke wind.

Gotrek stared at her in utter disbelief.

“No one will ever believe you,” Freya told him. And with a smirk, went back to reading her book as Gotrek spluttered.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Heart pounding in her chest, Heidi watched as she and Vicini surveyed the camp below her. Her breath came more shallowly, and she felt the edges of her vision blurring. She forced herself to calm, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Then she opened them and spoke. “So. How do we go about this?”

She was rather proud of herself that her voice only trembled a little.

“Good. You can control your fear. Do not fear the fear itself. It is useful. Use it. But remember this: you must make them fear you more,” Vicini told her.

“It’s just a couple of goblins. How hard can it be?” Heidi managed, her voice only cracking a little at the end.

She looked down below her at the goblin camp again. She had heard of greenskins before, of course. Even seen a few ork skulls mounted on walls  as trophies, but they’d been dusty and old. She’d never seen one of the legendary foes of the empire in the flesh. These were not as fearsome as the orks of legend, just being the smaller goblins. But the nasty little things had red eyes and needle sharp teeth, and just looked…wrong.

While Heidi had seen elves and dwarfs before, and the elder races were undoubtedly still, well, people. They were alien, yes, but not overly so. Heidi had laughed and served elves and dwarfs with the same panache she had men, and in turn she’d had her bottom pinched by more than a few dwarfs, and even an elf once, though he seemed to have been far gone in his cups at that point.

These creatures though…they moved wrong. Their proportions were wrong. The noises they made were closer to animal than human. And the other creatures in the clearing…Heidi shuddered. Spiders should not get that big.

“Greenskins are simple creatures. Much like man. They simply need to be shown who is in charge, and given commands. Then, they will obey,” Vicini said.

“And…how do we show who’s in charge?” Heidi asked, frowning. “I don’t think this is like it is with men, where you just have to grab them by their balls to lead them around.”

“Oh but it is. You simply-”

“ROIT YA GROTS. THAT’S ENUFF O’ DAT. WHERE’S ME BEER?”

The goblins looked up from their meal of some sort of horrible stew, cringing as a huge creature with shoulders broader than even Heidi’s father strode into the clearing. The thing was taller than a man despite having a hunched form, and two cracked tusks jutted from its mouth. Red eyes peered from under a bony brow, and the long arms almost dragged along the ground.

Later, Heidi would realize this was an aged and rather pathetic specimen of the species, but at that moment she froze in fear at the first ork she had ever seen in the flesh.

The goblins instantly dropped what they were doing, groveling and whining in nasally voices, while several hurried to bring food and drink to the ork, who sat close to the fire, ripping meat off the haunch he had been given and swilling beer.

“-find the biggest and the strongest.”

Heidi swallowed, then nodded. “So…we kick him in the balls?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it. Ork anatomy does not work that way. But they have other weaknesses. Come, slave.”

“Not a slave,” Heidi growled, but she went along all the same, hand gripping the pistol tucked into her belt.

To her surprise, Vicini simply walked down the slope, making no effort to hide his approach. Indeed, unless Heidi missed her guess, the dwarf kicked several rocks very deliberately, causing a great deal of noise.

“WOT’S THIS!?” the ork bellowed, and the goblins looked up, hissing and licking their lips upon seeing who was coming. “A ‘UMIE AN’ A STUNTY? LOOKS LOIK WE GOT SOME MEAT ON DA MENU TONIGHT, BOYS!”

“You there. Boy. What are you doing to my slaves?” Vicini demanded, raising his tone slightly. Heidi glanced at him, then did a double take. His hat was suddenly taller than it had been before, and now was sporting two very large horns coming out of the middle of it. The raccoon’s face was gone, replaced by that of a bull with a bronze ring through its nose, and the eyes were glowing red, little puffs of smoking coming out of the nostrils.

“YA TALK A LOT FOR A STUNTY. ROIT, YA GROTS, GET ‘EM!” the ork bellowed, standing up and reaching for a rusted looking hunk of iron that seemed to be his sword.

Several goblins chittered and raced forward, and Heidi made to draw her pistol.

“Don’t. Killing them will just enrage them. You do it like so,” Vicini said calmly. He waited until the first goblin was nearly on them, then kicked the creature in the head. It went spinning head over heels down the hill, taking out two other goblins along the way. The next creature caught a sharp backhand from Vicini, and went flying in a similar manner.

One goblin came right at Heidi, and with a snarl of mixed fury and fear, she kicked it square between the legs, forgetting what Vicini had said about the difference in anatomy between the species. However, her larger size and heavy boots were enough to punt the goblin several feet into the air, after which it flew downward, landing in the boiling pot with a scream of pain.

“Good shot,” Vicini grunted.

Heidi gave a nervous giggle: she hadn’t been aiming for that, but the effect was obvious.

The rest of the goblins hesitated. Heidi realized they’d been expecting Vicini and Heidi to either flee or fight back, which was the usual response that sensible people would have had to a goblin attack. Since they had instead acted more as if the goblins were a nuisance, perhaps a particularly annoying mutt, they were now uncertain as to what to do.

“OI. WHAT ARE YA DOIN’ TO MY GROTS?” the ork bellowed.

“They are not yours, boy. Now where is my food?” Vicini snapped back, his voice cracking like a whip.

The ork blinked, his tiny brain not certain how to process this. However, orks generally have only two responses to a problem, and since Vicini was a “stunty” the ork chose to attack, raising his crude sword and roaring out a battle cry as he charged.

Vicini waited for the ork to approach, then jumped up and headbutted the beast right in the nose. The ork staggered back, clutching his nose, which leaked black blood. Vicini followed this up with a double handed blow to the ork’s ears, which caused it to stagger to its knees. Then Vicini punched the ork in the gut, causing it to fall over, gasping in pain.

Leaning over the ork, Vicini growled. “I’m the biggest. I’m the strongest. I’m the boss. Do you understand?”

“Wot?” the ork said, blinking stupidly.

Vinici punched the ork. “WHOS THE BIGGEST AND THE STRONGEST?”

“Uh, you, boss! You're the biggest!” the ork said, cringing now as the furious Vicini towered over him.

“That one’s my nob,” Vicini said, pointing to Heidi. “Understand?”

“Huh? How can a humie-”

Sensing a pattern, Heidi kicked the ork as hard as she could. She didn’t particularly like being called a nob, but it seemed like a good idea.

“Ow! Ow! Yeah, I get it, I get it, boss! She’s the nob! You’re the boss!”

“Good. Now. Beer and food.” Vicini sat down where the ork previously had, and Heidi took up a position at his side, uncertain of what to do. The goblins all stared at them, blinking stupidly and scratching at themselves, obviously not sure what had just happened.

A moment later, the ork staggered to his feet. “YA HEARD THE BOSS! GET ‘IM SOME FOOD YA GROTS!”

The goblins raced to obey, and a moment later, Heidi was choking down the foul beer and food the ork had brought them.

“Good. But this is not enough. Where are the rest of the boys?” Vicini asked the ork.

“Eh? Wots that, boss? These grots is the only one in me band.” Heidi punched the ork, and to her shock, managed to stagger him.  “I mean, in your band, boss.”

“Where are the other bands? I need more to start a proper war. We have a big fight ahead of us,” Vicini declared, sipping at his beer.

At the mention of a “war” and “big fight,” the orks beady red eyes lit up. “A propa foit, boss?”

“Not just a fight. A right, and proper, war,” Vicini answered.

The ork rounded on the goblins. “YA HEAR THAT, YA GROTS! DA BOSS ‘AS GOT US A PROPA WAAAAAGH!”

“WAAAAAAAAGH!” the goblins screamed.

Vicini nodded, then turned his head to Heidi. “You see? Simple. They are mine now. And soon, all the greenskins in the area will be. And then, that Slayer dies, the elf dies, and that sword is mine.”

Heidi nodded slowly. Was it really this easy? Could you really seize power with just a few kicks? She filed it away for later. For now, she just dreaded having to eat the soup, which had a now very dead goblin in it. A problem for later.