The Way of Caine ,The Warcaster Chronicl - By Miles Holmes Page 0,23

clearing at least a hundred yards wide, and, of greater concern, lit by gas lamps. He could make out guardsman patrols along the ramparts of the city walls high above. The city gates were double thick, and though some traffic moved, it was clear the guardsmen were monitoring anyone going in or out, checking papers and marking ledgers.

“That’s bloody tight,” he spat. He frowned, unable to spot any point of approach that was not in sight of the guardsmen. Replacing his spyglass to his pocket, he turned back for his horse, soon crossing back into Cygnar.

Back at the estate, Caine tied his horse within the stable. He soon made his way down the aisle to find his chief mechanic, Ewan. The grizzled old man was still at work well into the evening. This part of the stable had been converted into a mechanika workshop, with benches of tools and crates of supplies unloaded. Caine’s three warjacks stood in line, chains slung over the rafters to keep them balanced while their furnaces were out. Numerous gibbering gobber assistants were crawling over the fearsome war machines, making adjustments with an assortment of tools. The waist high green-skinned creatures paused at their work and watched as Caine entered.

“Everythin’ to your satisfaction, sir?” Ewan gestured at the warjacks. The gobbers, begoggled the same as Ewan, continued to stare at Caine. The effect was paradoxically comical and unnerving at the same time.

“Oh, don’t pay them no mind. They’ve a short attention span. Isn’t that right, boys?” Ewan chuckled as the creatures responded with an indignant patois before returning to their work.

“I think it’s time,” Caine said.

“Oh?”

Caine pointed to the unmarked crate set aside from the rest of the supplies, and then looked back at the mechanik with crossed arms.

“Build it.”

Ewan nodded impassively, wiping his hands on a rag. The gobbers however, were pleased. Their faces broke into toothy grins, and the tone of their strange language rose to a shrill pitch. They bounded across the stable floor and swarmed the crate, brandishing crowbars in green clawed hands.

Caine stepped outside, reaching for a cigar within the pockets of his duster. With a sigh, he found his supply had fallen to two. He drew one out and passed it under his nose slowly. Striking a flame, he lit it under a lantern post and drew deeply. He looked up at the moon, relaxing a moment in the cool night air.

“That was a beautiful horse I saw you on. What’s her name?” The woman’s voice came from the shadows. Caine whirled, startled at the shapely figure at the edge of the shadows.

“They … uh, call her Nessa,” Caine said, chomping his cigar at the unexpected company. His eyes widened as the baroness stepped into the lamplight. She was a perfect vision, eschewing her formal day dress in favor of a simple green bodice and white skirt. Her powdered makeup was gone, revealing smooth skin. Her auburn hair spilled about her shoulders. He caught a glimpse of a large welt peeking out from beneath the tresses and winced. Embarrassed at his discovery she flinched, turning away.

“They say if you marry for money, you will earn every cent,” she said weakly, looking out upon the moor. With a deep breath she turned back at last. “There is no victim here, Captain. I knew what I was getting into. Do you have another?” she gestured to his stogie.

Caine saw the extent of the bruise now, from neck to collarbone. His face hardened, and he threw his cigar to the ground.

“That son of a bitch …” he spat, his feet already moving for the mansion. He made three paces before she clutched his arm.

“No! You must not! Please!”

There was terror in her eyes. He pictured her like this before the baron, and rage took him. He pulled his arm free. She stumbled as he did, and fell to her knees.

“Please!” she cried.

Caine stopped in his tracks, and turned on a heel. He saw her on the ground and shook his head. Coming to her side, he put an arm around her and steadied her up. Tears fell upon her cheek and she looked at him in gratitude. The blood in him boiled, but seeing her lips so close and her beautiful eyes looking in his, he was overcome with another impulse. He leaned in and kissed her hard on the mouth.

She did not resist.

Caine awoke alone in his chambers. There was an insistent knocking at the door. The light of the morning