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Da Portal of Darkness Chapta 9 | |
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Da Portal Of Darkness Chapta 9 |
Jarr moved cautiously through the darkness of the forest, his facemask amplifying the ambient light to a level that allowed him to see as clearly as if it were daylight. The assassin had unpacked his rifle and held it to his shoulder as he moved. Normally he would carefully select a firing location and use his custom built weapon to strike down a distant target with a single shot, but for now he was prepared to fire off one or two shots at any targets at short range that happened to present themselves to him. “Straight ahead,” the voice in his head told him. Jarr kept moving until he reached the edge of the forest. Ahead of him he saw an expanse of grassy hills that separated this forest from another one, and between two of these hills, just outside of the next area of woodland, he saw that a large area had been excavated, and at the bottom of the massive pit that had been dug a curved structure that resembled a flattened section of the tusk from some mighty beast stuck up from the ground. “Behold,” the voice said to him, “the webway gate.” Jarr smiled to himself, now all he had to do was select a suitable firing location and wait for his target to arrive. The house was quiet when Hazug awoke, and for a moment he tried to figure out why. The sun was coming up and his servants should have been trying to inflict physical injury on one another by now, or at least arguing over who was most valuable to him, but instead there was only quiet. Then it hit him, two of his servants had gone. One a traitor, the other one stolen from him by other humans. Across the room, Hazug saw the dark stain on the floor by the armoured door of his armoury that was all that remained to indicate that he had extracted his revenge on one of those humans who thought that they could steal from or blackmail him. Hazug yawned and stretched out his arms as he sat up. Standing up, he picked up his pistol and blade from the table beside his bed, tucked them into his belt and went downstairs for breakfast. In the kitchen he found Ratish using a small wooden hammer to flatten out a squig that wouldn’t keep still. “Ratish is nearly done master,” the gretchin said with a smile. Then he realised that while he had turned to greet his master the meal he had been preparing had escaped under the counter he was working at. “’Urry up grot,” Hazug said when he sat at the kitchen table, “I wants me breakfast sometime before lunchtime.” The squig was still twitching when Ratish placed it in front of Hazug, and only its own body heat prevented Hazug from classifying it as cold. But it was perfectly edible, and Hazug picked up the squig and took a bite out of it, thinking to himself that perhaps he had allowed Sophie to spoil him with her cooking since he had agreed to let her work for him. “Is da gits really gone for ever master?” Ratish said while he watched his master eat, the gretchin’s eyes open wide in excitement. If Hazug’s human servants were not coming back then it meant that he would be the only one working for Hazug. It would mean that he had won. “Next time I sees Rhia I is killin’ ‘er,” Hazug said solemnly, “and
I doubt dat da other humans is givin’ back Sophie.” “Master not need gits,” he said, “Ratish is better dan dey was.” A knock at the front door interrupted before Hazug could respond. “Go get dat,” he commanded, and Ratish ran off to see who was there. Hazug took another bite of the now dead squig, and felt its bones
crunching between his teeth. Then he heard Ratish shouting at whoever had
knocked on the door. “We need to speak with your master,” another voice called out. Though it was in orkish, the accent as well as Ratish’s cry suggested that it was a human. Hazug put down his breakfast and got to his feet before going out into the hallway, where he saw Ratish trying to push the front door closed against Thayne and two other men trying to keep it open. “Dey won’t go away,” Ratish said as he leant on the inside of the door. “Let ‘em in Ratish,” Hazug said. “Yes master,” Ratish answered, and he let go of the door, allowing the three men to enter the house. As well as Thayne there was another man who Hazug recognised, though he did not know his name. The man wore a jacket that was similar to ones Hazug had provided for Rhia and Sophie to mark his ownership of them. This one proclaimed the man as the property of warboss Kazkal Kromag, and Hazug realised that he had seen the an around the warboss’s palace. The third man, however, was unknown to Hazug. “Follow me,“ Hazug told the men, and he headed for the room he now knew as the lounge, “Ratish, bring us somethin’ to eat and drink,” he ordered. Hazug sat down and waited for the three humans to do the same. “I’m told that you speak Gothic,” the third man said after he had sat down. The man was older than either of the other two, and the clothing he wore suggested that he was one of the wealthier residents of Git Town, there being not a single patched or otherwise repaired hole visible on them. “I know ya language,” Hazug said, “I’ve done business with ya Rogue Traders.” “Excellent,” the man said, “that will make things much easier.” At that moment they were interrupted by Ratish entering the room with a tray that held a jug of water, three cups and a plate of something called ‘biscuits’ that Sophie had baked and had not yet been eaten. Hazug noticed that there were just enough cups for the humans only. “Ya aint pissed in dat jug ‘ave ya?” he asked Ratish in orkish, and the warboss’s servant looked at the jug, horrified. “Of course not master, Ratish brink good water for da gits,” Ratish replied. “Good,” said Hazug, “den bring it ‘ere so I can ‘ave da first swig
of it.” “Oops master, Ratish bring new tray,” the gretchin said before rushing out of the room. “And den clean up dis piss before I rubs ya face in it!” Hazug shouted after him. Then he turned towards his guests, “So wotcha want?” he asked. “I’ve lost another man since yesterday,” Thayne said, “Jaris didn’t turn up this morning, he was the man you met yesterday. I think that the resistance murdered him.” “I killed him,” Hazug replied without any emotion, “’e was da one wot planted da bomb.” The three men all looked at one another. Before they could take this in fully Ratish reappeared with his tray, this time there were four cups, and he put the tray down on the table in the middle of the room. Then he pulled a cloth from his belt and began to clean up the mess he had made with the first tray. “How do you know?” Thayne asked, worried about the apparently summary execution of Jaris. “’E came ‘ere last night tryin’ to get da rokkits and zappas back wot I took from ‘is mob in da winter,” Hazug told him, “Rhia was workin’ with ‘em an all, I reckon she let ‘im in.” “So the resistance has taken back the lasguns?” the older man enquired. “I still got ‘em,” Hazug said, “dey took Sophie and tried to make me swap da guns for ‘er. Dat’s when I killed Jaris.” “What about your servant?” Thayne asked, “Won’t they kill her?” “Maybe, but I is goin’ to kill all of dem too when I finds ‘em.” “I am sorry for your loss mister, err, mister Hazug,” the older man said, “but I am afraid that we need your help further.” “Like I said before, wotcha want?” Hazug replied. “We need more guns,” Thayne said abruptly, pouring himself a cup of water and taking a drink. From his reaction Hazug could tell that this time Ratish indeed brought water, “I’ve barely enough sidearms for my men, and only the two lasguns you gave us yesterday.” “So ya wants me to give ya some of mine den. Is dat it?” “Not give exactly,” the older man said, “my name is Atellus Grayl and I represent the Traders’ Association.” “Wots dat den?” Hazug asked. “We are the government of the human population,” Atellus answered him, “we provide the funding for the constabulary, and we are willing to pay for whatever weapons you can provide us with. We have only limited access to ork currency, but we are willing to negotiate in good faith.” “Da last human wot came ‘ere to ‘negotiate’ got ‘is ‘ead caught in an ‘eavy door.” Hazug said. “Indeed,” Atellus said, unsure of the meaning of Hazug’s statement, “but nevertheless, we need more arms, and you are the only one who can supply us.” “Not any more I can’t,” Hazug replied. “So you don’t have any more left?” Thayne asked, “I didn’t realise that the two you gave us were your last ones.” “Oh I got more, but da boss won’t want me just ‘andin’ ‘em out to ya. Ya is better goin’ and talkin’ to ‘im. ‘E got a share of da guns an all, and ‘e aint used or sold any of ‘em yet, and ‘e’s started takin’ and interest in wot ya is doin’.” The three men all looked at one another. “Is he about attack us?” Thayne asked, well aware that his force had no hope of holding out against even a moderately sized force of orks long enough for the humans of the city to be able to flee to the relative safety of the wilderness. “Nah, but since last night ‘e’s decided dat ya all belongs to ‘im, and ‘e wants to know wot ‘e’s got.” “We belong to him?” Atellus repeated, “But he’s never bothered about us before.” “Yeah but dat was before ya needed ‘im to stop any bored lads goin’ into Git Town and lookin’ for a fight. So last night I told ‘im dat ya all really belonged to ‘im so ‘e’d tell da lads to stop takin’ wot’s ‘is.” “So there’ll be no more raids then?” Thayne asked, clearly pleased at the prospect of not having to worry about any more such attacks. “Not from lads wot knows wots good for ‘em,” Hazug told him, “and not so long as ya all do wot da boss tells ya. But ya might still get some runt brains tryin’ somethin’.” “So
what exactly does the warlord want us to do,” Atellus asked, looking
uncertain about being under the command of an ork.” |
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