“Don’t rely too much on this,” Sepp continued. “It’s good when Raiders are attacking in big numbers, but it won’t do against the Wolftaurs, and it’s too heavy for an attack weapon. When you shoot, aim for the Raider’s chest. One hit will run the Raider clear through.”
“Yes, Master Sepp,” Kasha replied.
“Good man. You’ll do well. I’m placing you in the north with Kristiyan’s Kampfgruppe. Go down to the blacksmith’s and practice on this. After that, report to Kristiyan and prepare to move out. Heil Hitler!”
“Um, yes sir Master Sepp!”
Kasha shouted with perplexed enthusiasm. This ‘Hitler,’ who the Master and Petch-Key frequently commended, was still a mystery to Kasha. He still knew of no one in their new tribe named ‘Hitler,’ but figured he would see that warrior soon.
Kasha followed the path signs to the forging hut and new training grounds. It looked like a previously abandoned village that had been reconstructed overnight. A blacksmith had turned up in the ever-swelling ranks of fleeing wolves, and Master Sepp then ordered this village to be refaced and crowned with an armory. Boys, older males, and even some womenfolk were hard at work perfecting Master Sepp’s contraptions. Kasha approached the blacksmith in his workshop.
“Excuse me. I’m looking for a tripod and the firing range?”
“Just three paces from here. Over that way,” the burly fox pointed and then returned to his work.
Three paces behind the armory was, sure enough, a small clearing in the woods with wooden targets and marks for practice. Among other things, a tripod sat waiting for his use.
The contraption felt strange at first, but after a few shots Kasha realized that he would have no problem using it and using it well. Back in the armory, one of the foremen gave Kasha a strap of boomsticks and ordered him to carry the tripod out to Kristiyan. He left the bustling village and followed the signs north into the thick forests.
So this was where the battle would soon take place. It seemed an unforgiving place for Grimeskins. On the other hand, this was the wolves’ natural habitat, and his nose told him many things about the surroundings. After half an hour of walking, Kasha came across three young wolven girls digging a deep, narrow line through the ground. Two of them looked up and smiled.
“Um. The HQ?”
“Over there…”
One of them giggled up from inside the trench. It was too bad he might not live to see these girls again. The HQ was just a tiny hut which sat well behind a series of dugouts, trenches and well-forested hiding spots. Three paces ahead, Kristiyan was waving the men around to their stations. He recognized Kasha instantly.
“Mr. Kasha, I believe you are adept at lassoing?” The tall ‘Haupsturmfuehrer’ asked.
“Yes, Herr Kristiyan.”
“Then you shall be in my platoon. Take two boomsticks and report to the line.”
Kasha deposited the tripod and walked back to a makeshift bunker. During his frantic training Kasha hardly noticed the constant stream of newcomers, but today most of the faces here did look familiar, even though their names still escaped him. It took him just a moment to find his ‘lasso unit.’ Their commander was following not far behind, and soon all of them were called to gather in front of their trench.
Kasha looked around. Now he could see that there were dozens and dozens of wolves in ‘Kampfgruppe Kristiyan,’ well over a hundred. He hadn’t seen these many wolves together since before the Grimeskins first appeared from over the mountains. The sight of so many wolves made him stir inside, and gave him hope.
Kristiyan shouted for all of their attention.
“Kamerads, pack members. You are divided into five platoons and one reserve. Seven of you, and myself, have the honor of being dragoons, the most demanding job of all. The remainder will be pullers, shooters, loaders, archers or warriors. Check your name on the list and organize accordingly.”
He pulled up a box of metal things.
“After scrounging the forests, Master Sepp has also procured us with boom sticks and mashers. Some of you will receive one of the two. Use them wisely.”
“What will we be up against?” One of the company asked.
“Our scouts say they have brought Grimeskins from the east. They have some new kind of fire that falls from the sky. The forests and your trenches will protect you from that. We have seen other species too, including some felines.”
Another wolf asked the question that was on everyone’s mind.
“Do they have Wolftaurs?”
“Yes.”
A hush fell over the men.
“But we will stop them here. We must. The world which the Khanate will impose on the forests will not be one where we have a place.”
“How many of them are there?”
“We don’t know. Somewhere around a thousand.”
Kasha did a quick deciphering in his head. If there were three Kampfgruppes, and the other two were equal to this one, then the wolves’ total could only number some 400.
“Everybody down!”
Sepp could feel his heart thumping in his chest once again. No matter how many times he did this, there was still a certain feeling when the wait finally ended. His wolves crawled into a set of trenches and foxholes when the first gunpowder bombs went off and blew open several trees nearby. Sepp could feel the explosions sucking air out of his lungs. He peeled his face out of the dirt to check that his wolves were clutching the ground and not panicking. Only one in his trench was shaking and muttering to himself; Rokura. After a moment one of them peeked out of the trench.
“Not yet,” Sepp growled. “This is just the time they hit.”
The young wolf crawled back in, just as another gunpowder bomb thundered out above them and poured dirt onto all. And then there was another.
“I-uh-I-this… HELP!”
Sepp reached over and grabbed Rokura by the back of his neck.
“You shut up right now. We won’t be buried alive. They don’t have the supply. It will all be over soon.”
It was over soon. Sepp could already hear the oncoming growls of giant ‘wolftaurs,’ each one of them looked to have a Grimeskin mounted atop of them. Sepp picked up his binoculars and saw columns of green hunched over and following in the wake of the black wolftaurs.
“This is it! Everybody up!” He shouted.
Canine heads peeked out of the dugout and archers already fired a few shots to give cover to the wolves grabbing ropes and scurrying behind trees.
“Tripods up! Dragoons ready!”
A handful more wolves scurried out of their places. A few axes came in from far off but hit no one.
“Look out!” One of the wolves called out. Snouts peeked up from the craters and trenches as the tripods stood ready.
“Wait for it. Yet…”
Sepp called out, but his voice was already challenged by the growling six-legged beasts that were coming forward in a trot. Sepp got flat on his stomach and manned one of the tripods. Then the Wolftaurs came and Sepp blew his whistle. He was helpless now. It was all up to the wolves he had trained. Two lassos darted out from the trees, curled around the taur’s neck and dragged it down.
“Cover fire! Cover fire!”
Sepp blew the whistle a second time. The Greenskins stared in confusion at the new tactic as a rain of arrows shot wildly into their ranks, causing distraction.
A howl rose up from behind the tree and Sepp turned to watch one of his boys leap up onto the Wolftaur and lock his spear against the Raider’s ax handle. The dragoon struggled for a second, but then butted the Monster off his steed.