Chapter 25 - The Blame Game

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Ryke couldn't really believe what was happening. He walked along awestruck, the Scraegan Alpha shadowing his footsteps like a living monolith. He tried to ignore the shake in his ribs every time the great beast took a step, instead focusing on where exactly he was supposed to be going.

As he walked, he saw more evidence of the Scraegan war bands that infested this stretch of rocky ground. Most would be concealed underground in the warrens, he assumed, ready to come bursting forth to counter any attack. That was how they had operated through the early stages of the assault, allowing human spearheads to drive forward into a crush before unleashing reinforcements from all angles.

Sometimes they managed to drive off their enemies. Sometimes they didn't. Both sides were quickly piling up corpses.

Their destination came into view a few moments later – at least he assumed this was where they were going. It looked like the surface entrance to a warren, though this one was much larger than others he'd encountered. The jagged-topped wall of black rock jutted up out of the land like the lower jaw of an enormous monster, irregular teeth biting skywards. He could just make out the bulky shapes of Scraegan warriors squatting in crags, and the faint shine of the larger, mounted furnace cannons aimed towards the human line.

Doubtless more warriors lurked under the surface. He wondered just how many Scraegans filled these great tracts of barren rock. Thousands of them had assaulted Brekka during the siege, at the time an unprecedented number. As this new war ground on he was starting to think they'd barely scratched the surface of just how many Scraegans lived in the southern reaches of the planet.

For once, it looked like he would be getting inside a Scraegan warren without having to blast the doors open and at the moment he didn't know how he felt about it. Almost invisible, two slabs of stonework cracked open at a growl from the Alpha, and a great, yawning darkness opened up on the other side. The sheer scale of the thing made it clear he didn't belong, designed for beings that towered over a diminutive human.

He stepped through anyway, feeling the aching absence of his Hunter-Killer in every step. It was very easy to be brave when encased in a fifteen-ton killing machine, he realised. Swallowing down his nerves, he walked through the entrance and was engulfed by a warm, burning, musty smell. The Alpha's massive footsteps echoed through behind him.

Once he'd gotten inside, the darkness of the entrance gave way to several towering braziers that lit the space, creating globes of orange around which he saw several Scraegans lurking. Eyes tracked him in the fiery gloom and he could hear the low rumble of growls and grunts from the warriors as they realised a human was walking into their midst. Tunnel entrances opened off all round him, disappearing down into the depths beneath the Scraegan defences. Who knew how many settlements and warbands might be contained down there?

Something nudged him from behind.

It was probably the gentlest movement the Alpha could manage, but it still almost flattened him and he went stumbling forward with a yelp, before biting down the shrill exclamation angrily. He twisted back to look at the Alpha. It pointed with its axe.

Following the motion, he saw a large tunnel mouth at the far end of the chamber lit up by two braziers and with a pair of Scraegan warriors lingering beside it. Squaring his shoulders and straightening his back, he set off towards it, some prideful part of him eager to show the enemy that he didn't fear them, even though right now they could have swatted him out of existence in the blink of an eye.

On they went, passing the guards and descending into the bowels of the warren. He passed dozens of warriors as they passed in and out of tunnel systems, some stopping and staring, others not even noticing he existed. The Alpha directed him with grunts and points of its weapon until he lost all sense of direction. He could have been anywhere in the badlands by now. But, he told himself, if they were going to kill him they'd have done it by now. The Scraegans didn't exactly excel in subterfuge and mind games.

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