Neferata - By Josh Reynolds Page 0,75

looking to win glory.

‘Why were you stationed here, if I might be so bold?’ Neferata said.

‘The grobkul can be conducted many ways, but the most traditional is the hammer and the anvil.’ Razek dropped his hands onto the table and slowly slid one palm towards the other. ‘Block off the exits and give the grobi only one way to go. Then crush them from that end. Only way to be sure you get them all.’ The other dwarfs nodded and muttered in satisfaction.

‘And you’re certain that the force you’ve got is capable of playing hammer?’ Neferata said, examining the map. She traced a line. ‘What about the river defiles here and here? How will you block those?’

‘We have our ways,’ Ratcatcher said defensively. ‘We see everything. No grobi will slip past us!’

Rasha snorted. ‘Then how did we get up here without you seeing us?’

‘Who says we didn’t?’ the ranger snapped.

Rasha made to reply, but Neferata raised a hand, stopping her. ‘Peace, master dwarf. I assume then, that you are aware of the movements of Wazzakaz’s rivals to the north and the east,’ she said. ‘Krumpaz and Murk, I believe, though it’s possible Murk was killed in that skirmish last month between his tribe and that of Olgutz.’

Ratcatcher blinked and looked at Razek, who shrugged. ‘You’re the scout, cousin. You tell me,’ he said.

‘They’re moving with Wazzakaz,’ Ratcatcher said, eyes narrowing as he peered at the map.

‘No, they’re moving in the same direction, and not even that,’ Neferata said. ‘The Waaagh! is on the verge of splitting into conflicting factions again, if they don’t get a fight soon.

‘That would explain the sudden surge,’ Ratcatcher said grudgingly. ‘Bugrit, we’re giving them just what they want.’

‘And so what?’ one of the thanes said as he pounded hard knuckles into his open palm. ‘Just because grobi want something doesn’t mean it’s good for them!’

‘Yes, but in this case, the bastards won’t be as likely to break as we’d hoped,’ Ratcatcher said. Neferata reappraised the ranger. He had missed something, but he was already compensating, adapting his line of thought to encompass the new facts. She hadn’t thought a dawi could be so quick of thought. Perhaps that was why Razek had chosen these particular dwarfs as his companions. ‘They might just splinter and run early,’ Ratcatcher continued. ‘Or scatter entirely.’

‘Or shatter your lines and push through,’ Neferata said mildly. Silence fell. She ignored the angry glares the others were giving her and looked at the map. ‘Sheer momentum will overwhelm even the stoutest defence.’

Razek’s face was stiff and scowling. ‘You’re saying we miscalculated their numbers.’

‘Not at all,’ Neferata said. ‘But numbers mean little if you do not understand the meaning behind them.’ She stood and leaned over the table. ‘For close to two centuries, these tribes have waged war, smashing themselves and reforming,’ she said. Thanks to me, in part, she thought. ‘The impurities have been beaten from them. Wazzakaz is one of the most cunning shamans to ever fondle a fetish pendant, and his rivals are not much behind.’

‘They’ll be looking to get their boots in first,’ a thane muttered. Razek nodded and his broad fingers traced a line.

‘They’ll overrun our positions in their haste to come to grips,’ he said, leaning back and taking a sip of beer. Wiping foam from his beard, he tapped the map. ‘It’d be like trying to fight an ocean, unless…’ He looked at Neferata. ‘You mentioned something about aid.’

She restrained a smile. ‘Yes.’

He grunted. ‘It’s like chopping a tree: you take it down with a number of blows, rather than just one. We’ll pull the throng back to… here.’ He put a finger down. ‘The Strigoi can catch them in the passes and bloody them a bit,’ he said, glancing at her. She nodded. He continued. ‘And then, the throng of Karaz Bryn will shatter what remains.’

‘An excellent plan,’ Neferata said.

Razek grunted and knocked on the table with a thick knuckle. ‘We’ll handle the bulk of the fighting, of course. There’s an art to fighting grobi that you manlings will never master.’

‘Of course,’ Neferata said. She looked up at Rasha. ‘Go and alert the tribes. They will soon be called upon to prove the prowess they so readily boast of.’

Rasha nodded. Razek snapped his fingers. ‘Ratcatcher, go with her. See that she gets there safely.’

‘Rasha needs no help,’ Neferata said, feeling her handmaiden stiffen in silent protest.

Razek frowned. ‘No?’ He shrugged. ‘Fine,’ he said. As Rasha vanished down the tunnel, he said something in Khazalid to

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