Stories - Let The Galaxy Burn Volume 2 by Warhammer

Author:Warhammer [Warhammer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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IN THE SANCTUM beneath the family compound, Viktor Gaudi listened to the reports. Haus Volpone was losing its hold on the docks as

Protektor Seynitz's men moved in. Graf Malenko's men had taken a beating in the smelting districts - it remained to be seen whether they

would attempt a reprisal on Gaudi territory. Viktor doubted it - word would already have reached them of the death of Graf Reisiger, gunned

down while presiding over a council-of-war in his favourite restaurant. According to that report, there was barely enough left of Reisiger, his

closest advisors and their bodyguards to make one of the stews the old Graf loved so much. Since then, large numbers of Reisiger men,

protektors as well as foot-soldiers, had been defecting to Haus Gaudi.

An audacious move, the assassination had been planned and led by Graumann's protege, Mikhail Kravi. Kravi's hand-picked crew hijacked

a pantechnicon on its way to make a delivery to the restaurant and, disguised in the coveralls of the delivery firm, had strode unopposed

through the kitchens and into Reisiger's private dining room. By the time the Grafs bodyguards realised anything was amiss, the air was thick

with high-velocity mono-molecular disks. At a stroke, Graumann's young lieutenant had torn the heart from Haus Reisiger. Grown soft

during the years of the trace, none of Reisiger's remaining heirs had the experience or the will to rally their house against Haus Gaudi's

annexation of their territory. Viktor had already sent word that Kravi was to be acknowledged as a Protektor in his own right and given

control of the depot district that had formerly been under Haus Reisiger protection.

'I take it that our merchandise has met with your approval, Graf.' The merchant stood before the long table, looking down at Viktor with

dark, heavy-lidded eyes. He wore the same bland, neutral expression as he had when Filip had introduced him to Viktor in the salon of the

Leather Venus, one of the more salubrious establishments in Praxis's pleasure district. Using the most polite, convoluted form of High

Gothic, he had requested an audience. Viktor, tired from the night's exertions and more than a little drank, had agreed and left Filip to make

the arrangements. He had arrived on the day of the gathering, alone, carrying a long, slim case made from what appeared to be some kind of

wood, inlaid with ornate icons. It had reminded Viktor of the case in which his grandfather stored his favourite antique hunting rifle. Its

contents, however, could not have been more different.

We'd be happier if we knew where those unholy relics came from,' growled Friedrik Engel, before Viktor had a chance to speak. From his

seat on Viktor's left, Brek shot a look along the table at the old man who sat on the Grafs right. He opened his mouth to speak, but Viktor

held up a hand to quiet him. His grandfather's Grafsberator, Viktor only kept Engel by his side to appease the old Grafs retainers - and to

make it easier to dispose of him when Viktor's position was secure. Engel didn't approve of

Viktor's plans,

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