Microsoft Word - WARHAMMER.doc by me

Author:me [me]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-04-01T17:34:03+00:00

78

“When are you expecting the general, Frank?” Baumann asked, settling down on a stone beside the outrider. He cracked a piece of hard travel bread and started to chew on it.

“Yesterday. I sent Marius out to see what was holding him up. I don’t like being marooned out here like some kind of sitting duck. Not my idea of a fun way to pass the time. I like it clean and honest. I like to know what I am fighting and to be able to look my enemy in the eye, knowing that he has as much to lose as I do when it comes to the crunch. Can’t do it with these… these… things.

We’ve lost three scouts in the last week, Ralf Three good men.”

“It’s a dirty business, for sure.”

“And it’s only getting dirtier.”

“You do know what’s coming, don’t you?”

“I’ve got my suspicions, yeah. Not looking forward to facing whatever it is they decide to throw at us. It’s not like fighting men. Men you know, you know the fear pulsing through their veins, you know the exhilaration, the weakness, you know when doubt sets in and more importantly you know when they are broken. A pile of walking bones doesn’t think for itself and those walking corpses… They just keep coming and coming and coming. What have they got to lose? They’re already dead. They don’t know fear or doubt. They just keep on coming, wave after wave of them, and eventually even a good man will break. Maybe not on the first day or the second or even the third but the time will come when exhaustion wears him down, when doubt gnaws away at the back of his mind, when he makes a mistake and then what happens? He dies. Only it doesn’t end there…

Oh no, his corpse swells the ranks of the enemy and minutes after his death he is fighting against his friends. It’s ugly.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“They’re out there now. You’ll hear them when the sun finally goes down. Wolves howling at the moon and this eerie keening moan that seems to float all around the camp. We’re in the jaws of a trap here and Schliffen knows it. We’re his bait. That’s why he’s late.”

“That’s a pretty cynical way of looking at the situation, my friend.”

“Is it? Take a look around, this is the ideal battleground, or as close as you’re likely to get around here. You’re not exactly wide open to surprises. This way Schliffen is picking the battleground. He knows the fight is coming. Like any good soldier he wants to make the best of what he’s got. The water at our back means we’re only vulnerable from three sides, and we’re between two major branches of the Stir so von Carstein can only bring his army over piecemeal, buying us time to dig in. We’ve been fortifying for a week. There’s some nasty surprises out there beneath the snow, for what good they will do us.”

“Every little bit helps.

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