Rummage
The Austro-Hungarian Empire
Linz
March 1912
The Imperium Bureau stank of a pungent scent, carrying a mix of ink, damp and a faint coppery taste in the very air; around the large room, the Austrian Cultist banners bore the emblem of the Blue Eagle, the symbol of the Cult of the Blue Eagle, they hung limply, the blue dulled, the hallways echoed with the sounds of the clipped boos of young Cultist enforcers, though, in the main chamber, the air was very different, it let…., still.
Cultist Bureau leader; Herr Karl Huber, had been assigned a new role of Handler in time for the arrival of what had been labelled in a telegram as simply Special Assets; the arrival of the Englishman; Vincent Rummage had done little to impress Karl, he stood with a stiff posture, but immediately he could see that by wearing the cult uniform of the Minotaur, that this man believed himself important…, as someone who mattered, Karl instead was determined to make it clear, that in his eyes Vincent was a nobody, he did not offer a chair, he simply stared at the man before him.
His eyes flicking over him, a look of disgust that was barely hidden “Rummage” he said, his voice gravelly, but carrying that thick Germanic drawl of a local of Linz, his gaze drifted past Vincent for a moment then back to him “Your daughters are being reassigned”
Vincent, a broad-shouldered, soot-stained man, who bore the signs of a man that worked years in a factory job, who had built his way up, he gave a slow nod; his patched coat, worn boots made him stand out as being far from the rest of the Austrian Cultists, unlike in the collapsing Minotaur Cult, Vincent’s rise was, to the Austrian at least, insulting; but his eyes still retained the fervour of a true believer.
“They shall serve t’Imperium” Vincent said, his voice carrying a rough Yorkshire drawl “Wherever they are needed”
Karl’s mouth twitched, note quiet a smile, more, amusement “Needed” he repeated, as if tasting the word, finding it amusing “Yes, that is one way to describe it” he said glancing to another Austrian Cultist, his voice mocking, then his gaze drifted towards the two figures behind Vincent; two figure standing side by side.
The twins, they wore identical cloaks that looked as if they drowned them; hiding the clothes they wore beneath, their boots visible, and clearly identical, Karl was certain he could spy the hilt of a Sabre, the dark hilt reminded him of an old English Light Cavalry Sabre.
They did not shift, did not blink; nor did they look at their father or even towards Karl, they simply…., existed in the room, like nothing more than shadows that did not know they could move.
Karl’s eyes drifted, he observed the pair carefully, but, with a subtle shake of his head, he was more dismissive of them than happy of their presence, his eyes returning back to Vincent “They shall be sent south” he said “The Hunter has been seen; Cathryn Langdon seems to have survived what happened in Crete”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed immediately; he had heard about Crete, about William Smythe’s actions and the rogue Dreadnought that had been the cause of the beginning of a collapse for the Cult of the Minotaur with the loss of George; Karl continued “The Hunter is moving through the Balkans alongside traitors; Isabelle, her son; Morgan and daughter Erin” he told him, the chair creaking beneath him as he shifted his weight slightly “We want them captured alive”
Vincent straightened, he felt a swell of pride “My girls will not fail…”
Karl snorted, taking a moment as Vincent’s eyes narrowed in response, confused by the reaction, when Karl settled himself, shaking his head “They are not your girls” he said “They are assets of a fractured Cult, who will find use now amongst us; tools, nothing more”
Vincent’s jaw twitched, a subtle shift in his posture indicating his irritation; then Karl continued, before Vincent could offer any words, Karl’s voice now sharper “Be grateful Englishman; while this Imperium descends into chaos; these two weapons shall find a use; children born of filth rare rise above their station; but these two….” He gestured vaguely towards them, as if he was simply pointing towards furniture “…they have…, unitality; limited, but useful”
Vincent’s hands clenched into fists, a subtle creaking of skin, a cracking of bone, and still, the twins did not move.
Karl then leaned forwards, the chair creaking again “Do not mistake this assignment as a sign of importance; they are weapons, they are replaceable, and if they die, then we shall find others to take this mission”
Vincent inhaled, but, it was in that moment something in that room changed – the air felt like it had become tighter, like the silence deepened, and the temperature…., had dropped, noticeably so; Karl and the Austrian Cultists felt it first, Karl, he felt a prickle at the back of his neck, the instinctive awareness of a predator present in the room, his eyes immediately flicked towards the twins.
They still stood motionless; there had been no physical movement, but, their eyes had shifted, not towards Karl, or their father; but to each other; a small, almost imperceptible tilt of the head from the twin on the left, while on the right, the twin had given a slow, yet deliberate blink; a conversation without words that made Karl uneasy, Vincent had noticed too, glancing back over his shoulder towards them.
Vincent returned his gaze towards Karl, and, with a low, but strained voice “They serve the Imperium” he said “But…, they are not replaceable”
Karl forced a laugh, though, his unease was still visible as his eyes flicked towards the twins the back to Vincent “They are tools Rummage, and tools do not have opinions, they are used and cast aside”
The twin on the left finally moved; just her hand, sliding visibly to the hilt of the sabre at her waist, resting her fingers lightly atop, her eyes shifting, meeting Karl, the meaning was unmistakable, Karl went still; Vincent, he exhaled slowly; a mix of pride and fear “They shall bring you the Cathryn” he said “But…, do not talk of them as if they are nothing”
Karl cleared his throat, he felt a pressure, aware of just how small the room suddenly felt “Fine” he muttered, gesturing towards the door “Take them; their orders wait in a satchel by the door; they are to leave tonight”
Vincent nodded, then, he turned and made for the door; the twins followed, movement perfectly in sync, still perfectly silent, but as they reached the door, the smaller twin paused, just for a heartbeat as she glanced back towards Karl, nothing about her posture or expression changed; but the room felt as though it was suddenly holding its breath, then, she turned and walked out.
As they ventured outside of the Bureau, the doors slamming shut behind them with a hallow, metallic thud, Vincent felt the wash of cold air of March hit him, though, he was not certain if it was due to the weather, or because of that feeling of unease that emanated from his daughters.
As the trio made their way forwards, a pair of Austrian Cult enforcers stood by the steps, smoking cheap cigarettes, they observed with a thinly veiled disdain “Sind das die?” one asked, a brow raised, questioning if they were the ones
The other nodded slowly “Minotaurus-Schrott” he answered, his eyes flicking towards the twins – the Minotaur scraps, the remnants of a collapsing Cultist movement
The two would continue speaking, making brief mentions in German about the twins being worth little more than dirt, or something along the lines of being nothing more than just tools; Vincent heard ever word, but so to did the twins; none reacted.
At the bottom of the steps, the trio continued away, following the flickering lamps at illuminating up a stable just a short distance away, the winds beginning to pick up, as if howling in the distance, with enough distance from the Austrian Bureau, he turned, his grin curving his lips “Ye’ll bring me glory ye will” he said, a voice low but fervent “This mission…., it’ll raise me standin’, show ‘em tha’ the name Rummage means somethin’; ye show ‘em what I made ye”
The twins stood side by side, identical silhouettes against lamplight, for a moment, neither one moved; they just stared forwards, then, the smaller twin, the twin that had looked back to Karl when leaving, she tilted her head; only slightly, but it was enough to be unnerving, and when she spoke, her voice came out soft; too soft “You made us weapons” she said, dark hair flicking in the wind, she moved her eyes, shifted her gaze – the taller twin, the older twin; her eyes met her siblings, just for a brief second, brown eyes meeting brown eyes.
Then, she brought her eyes back forwards, towards their father, and when she spoke, she spoke with an equally quiet, equally calm voice “Mother would have seen us”
Vincent felt a shiver rush down his back, he felt as though his body locked up; went rigid “Ye’re mother was weak” he snapped “She didn’t understand t’need for all this; didn’t understand what ye could become”
“She understood us” the smaller twin said; the words were quiet, blank – no hints of emotion could be detected, yet, it still landed like a knife, Vincent blinked; he was unsettled instantly
From a distance, Austrian Cultists had been observing, they couldn’t make-out the conversation, but just seeing Vincent step back brought amusement as one made a comment in German about ‘Creepy little things’
Vincent swallowed “Ye serve the Imperium” he said firmly “Ye serve me; ye best remember tha’ ye ‘ear me”
The twins looked at him silently, nothing further was said, instead, perfectly in sync, they turned away from him and began to walk towards the stable doors, Vincent felt that same chill rush down his spine, then, finally he followed.
Written By: Westley H.
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