The Furred Reich (20 page)

“Come on you little pieces of shit. Just a little, little longer now…”

He crawled closer. “Almost there you—” he muttered something under his breath.

The screams became rhythmic, and his hands shook beneath the flame thrower, but now it was time.

A click of the trigger heralded the vengeful fire that erupted onto that helpless straw shelter.

“Sieg-Fucking-Heil! Die!”

The flames engulfed the straw shelter in seconds, but Poetschke’s yell echoed far louder than the fire’s hot crackle. Two ‘Grimeskins’ came running out of the hut. Poetschke casually tossed out a stick grenade, blowing both monsters to bits.

“RAAAAID!”

From the other side of town four giant orcish creatures came out of the great hall; the one where rape was underway. One of them muttered something incomprehensible and the other threw a hand-sized ax in Poetschke’s direction, but the human was already flat on the ground. The monsters separated to surround the burning hut. Poetschke started crawling backwards, not fast enough, but not daring to run and give his location away.

The Grimeskins got uncomfortably close to him when another crack rang out from the opposite treeline. One of the monsters dropped. Then another. It was Dietrich. In the confusion, Poetschke got up and dashed for the protection of the evergreens with two monsters following right behind. He’d succeeded in his assignment of drawing and distracting the monsters, now he only needed to stay alive.

———

The rattling of Master Sepp’s cannon ended the breathy screams nearby. That was Kasha’s signal. He and five other wolves came snarling from the darkness and descended upon the lone Grimeskin guarding the hall where the debauchery was taking place. Their spears cut into the monster before it could swing its blade in return, and it fell like a dead animal.

Master Sepp ran behind them with Valvela and Sabrae by his side. He smashed the glass of the window with his hand cannon, then fired a shot that ricocheted. Kasha and the others followed up and knelt outside the open doorway.

“Go! Go!” He ordered the five wolves into the Grimeskin’s hall.

The five of them filed past the door and disappeared while Sepp blasted his long hand cannon into the hall. Sepp looked angrily to Kasha, and motioned for him to follow behind the others.

Kasha breathed deeply and entered into the battle, hearing nothing but his beating heart despite the piercing fracas inside.

Things happened so quickly. Already one had fallen to a flying ax. Kasha looked to the other end of the room and saw one dead Grimeskin, but five others still alive, one of whom had those deadly hand axes.

“What are you all waiting for! Charge NOW!”

The Master’s angry voice erupted through the window, accompanied more shots that hit a Grimeskin but only knocked him back. The others looked at each other but got up and charged under cover of the Master’s machine cannon. Kasha found himself sprinting at one of the dazed monsters and, before he knew it, he lunged at the Grimeskin and gouged it in the throat. The Grimeskin fell in the melee and Kasha leaped to the aid of Talin, a wolf who was locked in battle with a much larger foe.

Kasha shoved his spear into the Grimeskin’s side. Talin did the same with his, but the Grimeskin swung his sword and beheaded Talin in one swift cut.

“Get them out!”

A voice shouted over the constant blasts. It was Kristiyan, the tall wolf who led the others into the great hall.

Who was ‘them?’ That’s when Kasha noticed seven young women, each lying flat on a mat, completely naked.

Two other Grimeskins remained kneeling behind a stone, held down by threat of the Master’s weapon.

“YOU! Cover for the women until they leave!” Kristiyan barked at Kasha.

The wolfesses slowly opened their eyes, rose up and then sprinted for the door. One of them recognized poor Talin.

“No! Talin! No, please no!”

She sobbed and covered her eyes in horror at the sight of her beheaded mate. Kristiyan grabbed her.

“He did what any of us would. Now come on!”

He growled, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“No. Talin! Put me down! Talin!”

Kasha and the others followed Kristiyan out of the battle site and the Master was waiting for them, motioning for them to follow behind him into the forest. The Grimeskins, however many remained there, did not pursue this time.

After a few moments in the snowy forest they rendezvoused with Sabrae, Valvela and about a dozen other males from the village; people whom the two sisters helped escape.

“Where’s Fire Wielder?” Kristiyan asked.

“I don’t know.” Master Sepp replied.

“Valvela, take your tribespeople back to the cavern.”

Valvela did so. Kasha, Master Sepp, Kristiyan and two others set out to bring home the Fire Wielder.

Christening

“I figured you’d make it. You’re one of Peiper’s boys, after all.”

At 29, Werner Poetschke was hardly a boy, but he was definitely one of Peiper’s. Poetschke walked out from the trees, flamethrower still on his back and a strip of grenades on the front belt.

“I lost them, sir. The Grimeskins are back there somewhere.”

The wolves gathered around Poetschke in a half circle, and silence descended for a few seconds until Sepp’s voice broke in.

“Then let’s go home.”

Kristiyan, the tall, white wolf who led the others in the raid, came up to Poetschke first. “Flame wielder… How could a mere human escape the Raiders like that? It doesn’t make sense.”

Poetschke reached into his belt, pulled out a stick grenade and tossed it to Kristiyan, who caught it in his paws.

“Just like that,” the human chuckled.

“I don’t understand.”

Poetschke snatched it back.

“See this screw at the base?”

“Yes.”

“Undo that. A string with porcelain will fall out. Pull it, count to five and get a big boom-boom.”

Dietrich laughed and shook his head at Poetschke’s educational discussion. As for himself, he was growing to like these wolves: They were direct, to the point, and pretty good warriors, but more and more were looking to him for guidance and support against the ‘Raiders.’ Little did most of them know, Sepp wasn’t even from this world. Of the wolves he’d met, the ones that had the most experience against the Raiders were those from the Goldgrass Lands, which he learned stretched east of the forest out to Cottonwine Mountain.

“Kasha.” he called out to one of the conscripts he knew was from that land.

“Ah, me? Yes, Master Sepp.”

“These Raiders. How did they attack you on the planes?”

“Hmm. Well, the attacks started with huge, flaming rocks raining down from the skies. Usually a few moments later, clusters of Greenskins would ride in atop beastly wolf-taurs, and none of us, no matter how many, could resist the charging attack.”

“And then…?”

“From what I saw, the foot-warriors would swarm in after. Their axes would chop anything left. Some could crush us with just their hands. By then we were always frightened and scattered.”

“I see. That’s good. Thank you Kasha.”

“Ah, Master Sepp? May I also ask a question?”

“Yes?”

“Are you, I mean, you seem familiar with this attack? Because we are—”

“I am familiar with that. But I wanted to hear from you.”

That night the caverns crowded with the newcomers who were just rescued. Standing room was difficult, and sleep that night would be even stuffier. Still, Sepp Dietrich now had a platoon-sized force around him. He also got the distinct feeling that, for most of the wolves, tonight was the first taste of victory they’d had. The young ones were in a celebratory mood, but that would soon be fixed.

“Boys,” Sepp rose his voice and the chatter stopped.

“We must keep a low profile tonight. Fires may only be lit in the caves, one at a time. And while I sense the highs of victory in many of you, I tell you to remain cautious. I don’t know where the Raiders come from, but I know they are still in these lands, and tonight’s victory did not come without a cost. As the Alpha of my own pack once said, even a victorious army must count its dead.”

“We lost two on this evening’s raid, and we lost them due to our own hesitation to strike. I know that your style of warfare is different from mine, but if we are to succeed against the Raiders, then we must be as one. This is your family now. Fear and hesitation of what comes will lead only to more of your comrades dying.”

“I don’t need to tell you that this race of monsters is very powerful, and as your commander I can’t promise a miracle victory. But if you follow me, then you will no longer make war. You will be war. You will exude it. And these will be your brothers. If that’s what you want, then stay here. If not, then I ask you to leave us and run further west.”

“Um, Master Sepp…”

Kristiyan’s voice surprised him, as he wasn’t used to ‘conscripts’ talking back.

“What is it.”

“Most of us are ready to fight with you. This I know. But. Many of us are from different tribes: The Great Crag, Goldgrass, Shattered Paw, many places. I already trust in your judgment, master, and we’ve seen the awesome power of Flame-wielder, too! But I cannot trust the wolves of another tribe, even though mine is gone.”

A groan levitated above the crowd.

“If that is how it must be, then we must forget our old tribes. Master. For that, we need a new name and a new symbol. If you deem us worthy I would like to wear on me the sign already gracing the Flame-wielder’s collar.”

Kristiyan was referring to the SS rune, of course.

“All you must do, Master, is lead us. The rest I cannot expect a foreigner and a Human to understand, so forgive me, Master Sepp.”

Kristiyan walked over to Dietrich’s side and turned to face everyone.

“To all those of you who stay, you will be part of our new tribe. The Lightning Rune Tribe. We will no longer fear the Green Demon.”

Squiggles

Hans looked at the challenge lying ahead of him: A wall of white mountain peaks under a bleak, gray horizon. Soft flakes of snow fell out of the sky to cover everything under a pristine white blanket. His boots crunched as he walked along a path. Sometimes the mountain path was lined by wooden guarders, sometimes it wasn’t.

Lapine grandma’s map said he was getting close to the plains, where he hoped to find a place to live somewhere among the animals there. Grandma’s map said there were squirrels and minxes further ahead. Just no wolves, slavers or ‘Grimeskins,’ whatever those were. In the dead quiet, his breath was louder than usual. If the ‘northern plains’ were the only safe place in the world, then he would stay there, and hopefully prove his worth to whoever took him in.

As he peered over the first ridge, Hans saw tiny, white-covered paths struggling against the massive wild. They were paths that lead off far, far away. There was a long way to go.

Lifeboat

“No one here, huh? That’s funny.”

The sand-lined road into Nebukkez sat unguarded. Qok stopped the oxcart, likely concerned about the bad sign.

“You know of any other ways to get to your destination?” The old bird called back to Hex, who was now his only remaining passenger.

“There aren’t any. It’s either Jasra or maybe Tyraeus.”

“Alright.”

Qok tugged the reins and oxen jerked forward past the border and into the desert kingdom.

Even late in the year most of Nebbukez scorched. This was actually Hex’s first time in Nebukkez, and it would hopefully be the last. Compared to Ahuran, Nebukkez was small, weak and very ill-prepared for what was coming. The sooner he got out of this kingdom, the better.

An oasis town hardly seemed to notice the travelers’ presence, and Qok stopped to refill a water jug and rest. The stallions of this land were fussy about others taking from their oases, which was probably why Qok loaded hay, for the livestock, into the cart back in the last town in Ahuran, Ilam.

“You can sit back now. I don’t think anyone minds us passing through.”

“Alright. Just let me know if you need me,” Hex said as he sat back in the cart and watched the oasis get smaller and smaller on the horizon.

———

The new climate restricted travel to evenings, mornings and late afternoons. Hex and the emperor’s driver sat at the front of their cart and watched sand dunes come and go from their view until a wall of palm trees ascended on the horizon. The scent of alluvial silt greeted Hex’s nose. They were passing through an oval-shaped swath of farmland which on the map reminded him a lot of Deltia.

The Caliphial Highway was blocked, and so Qok went on a smaller road that took them through the lowlands and then into the barren quarter, which was hot, uninterrupted desert. Only a sea of sand lay between them and Jasra port. They camped during the day, and Hex did his best to remain asleep at night, much to Qok’s insistence. The silence of the desert made Hex’s mind wonder on to other thoughts. All the more reason to never come back to this place.

“Hey,” the old bird squawked back in the dead of night.

“There’s some kind of trouble ahead.”

Hex roused from his nap and Qok motioned him back to the cart.

“Go back to sleep. I’m taking a southern detour. We’ll be at Jasra soon.”

The Kitsune didn’t worry about it. Qok knew these roads well, although Hex had a good idea what might be happening up north.

The next morning, a stark desert sunrise brought Hex up again, and he saw a line of armed, black equines forming a chain across the horizon. The chain stretched from east to west. Hex’s eyes followed the line westward to a minaret and some other domed buildings.

“Jasra?” Hex blinked.

“Yeah, but… I don’t think I’m going to make it back to Ahuran in one piece.”

Qok’s voice was heavy with concern. He was right, of course. If he took the same path, Qok likely wouldn’t make it back to his home.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking Hex, but is Deltia your next stop?”

“…It is.”

“You mind if I trade these oxen and go with you?”

“Um, well…”

“I won’t tag along. I’ll be out on the next ship to Bandar.”