by Warhammer
Felix chopped and chopped again, and then realised that the whole enormous structure was shaking. ‘Back off,’ he shouted. ‘The whole thing is going to come down.’
Immediately he retreated to the wall, defending himself as he went. He parried the blow of a massive beastman and took off its hand with his counter-stroke. Even as he watched, he saw that the whole infernal engine was shaking and starting to lean to one side. Gotrek and the other Slayers were moving back now, reluctantly, having driven their prey back into the innards of the tower. Felix could smell burning, and saw flames beginning to leap up over the battlements. It seemed like the siege tower was on fire. How this had happened he had no idea. A spell, alchemical fire, burning oil, it did not matter. He was grateful for the respite.
There was a cheer from the defenders as the tower keeled over like a foundering ship and then crashed to the ground below. It died away as the watchers glared off into the distance and saw dozens more towers taking shape out there. This was hardly a victory, Felix realised, because this was hardly an assault. The tower had rolled forward with no support. It was obviously the work of a few crazed madmen desperate for glory, rather than part of a massive overall attack. Felix wondered what would happen when all of the towers rolled forward, supported by sorcery and those huge trebuchets. It did not bear thinking about.
Suddenly, he was very tired. He felt drained and exhausted and he slumped down with his back to the wall to snatch some rest. Gotrek stomped over. He left huge prints in the thin carpet of snow. Felix rubbed his hands together to warm them. Now that the fight was over the sweat was starting to cool on his body. He knew he would need to change out of these clothes soon or risk a fever or worse. He wondered at this snowfall. It seemed unnatural; by all accounts it was too early in the year for snow. The Kislevites had cheered it, claiming it was the work of Ulric, and that Lord Winter was fighting on their side. Felix was not so sure.
‘Hardly worth the effort today. We should have stayed in the White Boar and let your people get on with it.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Felix gasped.
‘Killing a few beastmen is better than killing none at all.’
‘You may have a point there, but if it’s all the same to you, you can take my share in the future.’
‘Best get up, manling. We have business to be about this evening.’
‘Don’t think I have forgotten,’ said Felix. Privately, he wished he could.
‘This looks like my kind of place,’ Bjorni said with a cackle. He rubbed his hands together and made an obscene pumping motion with his arm. Small flakes of snow caught in his short beard. Felix wondered if it would ever stop. He had heard tales of the Kislev winter. Some said it started snowing at the end of the summer, and didn’t stop till spring. He hoped this was not true.
‘Somehow, I thought it might be,’ Felix muttered.
Just looking out of the alley mouth at the Red Rose made him glad Bjorni was there. It had not been hard to find, since it was one of the biggest whorehouses in the whole city. Judging by the way lights blazed within, it was doing a roaring business. It was hardly surprising really. With the Chaos horde outside everyone who could afford a little forgetfulness in the pleasures of the flesh was seeking it. The inclement weather didn’t seem to have discouraged any customers.
‘That’s not why we’re here,’ Gotrek said.
‘Speak for yourself,’ Bjorni replied cheerily. ‘I hear they have a halfling girl here who can–’
‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Gotrek said dangerously. Bjorni fell to silent muttering.
‘I think I should do the talking,’ Felix said. ‘Why don’t you just get a drink, and stay within call, in case of trouble?’
‘Snorri thinks that’s a good idea, young Felix,’ said Snorri. The rest of the Slayers seemed to go along with this.
Felix wondered whether this was such a great plan. Showing up at the Red Rose at the same time as the four Slayers was not going to make him inconspicuous, but he felt a lot better going into the place knowing help was at hand. His encounter with Olaf and Sergei had not left him with any great desire to go into the joyhouse on his own. Still, it was the only lead on the two assassins they had at this moment, and he was keen to follow it up. Better to be the hunter than the hunted, he thought.
‘Right, you lot go in, and I’ll follow in a few minutes.’
‘Fair enough, manling.’ The Slayers stumped out of the alley, towards the joyhouse, Gotrek in the lead, Bjorni almost running beside him. If he had not known better, Felix might have sworn Ulli was blushing. Trick of the light, he thought.
Gotrek glared at the bouncers, who made way for him as he walked up to them. They obviously understood the dangers involved in trying to part four Slayers from their weapons in these troubled times. Lots of other people were going in with their swords anyway. Rough place, Felix decided, as the dwarfs disappeared inside. He gave them a few minutes, all the while praying that they did not start any trouble. He felt in his purse. He still had some gold left which was good, since he was going to have to spend it to find out what he needed to know.
Idly he speculated on whether Olaf and Sergei were Slaanesh worshippers. This looked like just the sort of place where the deranged followers of the Pleasure Daemon might hang out. He wished he knew more. Just enquiring about them might be enough to warn the people they were looking for, or it might trigger another attack if this place were some sort of secret temple. He told himself not to let his imagination run away with him. This was not a Detlief Sierck melodrama. There would be no hidden temples in this place. At least he hoped not.
He realised that he was just dragging this out now, not wanting to proceed. He took a deep breath, offered up a prayer to Sigmar that Ulrika never found out where he was this evening, as she lay recovering in their room, and strode forward. The bouncers didn’t give him a second look as he marched up the stairs and through the swing doors. A wave of warmth flowed over him. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden bright lights. Dozens of candles glowed in the massive chandeliers above. A small lantern illuminated every booth around the walls. It was still dim compared to daylight, but it was much brighter than the night he had just left behind.
The smell of beer and strong perfume struck him as soon as he entered. It looked like the Red Rose was packed to capacity this evening. There was barely enough room to stand. Good, he thought, less likely that anyone will try anything nasty. Then the thought of someone scratching him with a poison blade and walking away into the crowd struck him, and made his flesh creep. He told himself that it was the melting snow running from his hair that sent a chill down his spine, but he knew it was not true. He shouldered his way through the crowd towards the bar. As he did so a couple of heavily rouged women thrust themselves towards him.
‘Hello, handsome. Looking for a good time?’ one of them asked.
‘Maybe later,’ he replied, as one of them linked her arm with his. He tried shaking it off, but she just clung tighter. Oh well, he thought, and pushed on. A quick glance revealed that the Slayers were at a table near the bar which commanded a fine view of the massive staircase that ran up to the chambers above. A constant stream of drunken men and scantily clad women headed up and down the steps. A short stocky Kislevite rider barged into Felix and reeled past. Felix felt hands clutch at his belt, and was suddenly glad he had placed his purse inside his jerkin.
‘Buy a girl a drink?’ said the woman on his arm.
‘If we ever get to the bar,’ he replied, shoving forward again. Ahead of him a crowd of mercenaries gathered round a table where a young woman garbed like an Arabyan harem girl slowly removed her veils. She had an interesting selection of tattoos and piercings, Felix thought.
‘I have a ring like that, through my belly button,’ the girl said. ‘I’ll show it to you if you like… upstairs…’
‘Let’s get something to drink first,’ Felix said.
They got through to the bar. It was packed. Felix was forced
to elbow his way between two big men in the tabards of Imperial halberdiers and ordered two beers.
‘I don’t want beer,’ the girl announced. ‘I want wine.’
‘Make that a Tilean red as well,’ Felix added. He was a bit annoyed now. He had hoped to make some enquiries among the bar staff concerning Olaf and Sergei, but it was obvious that things were way too busy right now to do any questioning. This was proving more difficult than he had thought already. On the plus side, nobody except the girl accompanying him appeared to be paying him the slightest attention. The place was so packed you’d have to be a Slayer or an elf prince to stand out in the crowd.
‘Let’s find a place to sit,’ Felix said. ‘I need a rest.’
‘Hope you’re not too tired, handsome.’
‘Spent most of this afternoon on the walls,’ he said. ‘It takes it out of a man.’
‘You don’t sound like a guardsman or one of the duke’s soldiers. You a mercenary?
‘Something like that.’
‘You either are or you aren’t.’
‘I got stuck here when the Chaos horde showed up.’
‘Caravan guard then?’
He nodded as they shouldered their way towards a booth. It seemed a better idea than telling her the truth. If anyone was looking for Felix Jaeger, the man who had arrived on the airship, the fewer here who knew who he was the better. Felix studied the woman. She was small, and he suspected she looked older than she really was. Her skin was pale, her hair curly and bright as gold. Her face, while pretty, had a worn-out look. Her features looked slightly puffy. Still, there was a quick, malicious intelligence in her eyes. Her smile was professional but pleasant. The hand working its way up his thigh was practised.
‘You don’t sound like a caravan guard. More like a priest or a clerk.’
‘You get a lot of priests in here, do you?’
‘You’d be surprised who we get in here. Elves, dwarfs, magicians, nobles… all sorts.’
‘Ever see a pair of tough lads called Olaf and Sergei?’ he asked, taking a chance that she might know something about his quarry. He put his hand down on hers. The creeping massage stopped. ‘One’s a big guy, craggy looking, and hard, very hard. The other looks fat but he’s quick on his feet and good with a knife.’
‘They friends of yours?’ she asked warily. The smile seemed fixed on her face now, frozen almost.
‘Not exactly.’
‘What’s the connection then?’
‘I’m looking for them.’
‘You want somebody hurt?’ The hesitant way she said it made it sound like she was going to say something other than hurt then thought the better of it. ‘I’m surprised – you look like someone who could do that yourself.’ Her fingers had started moving again. He immobilised her hand.
‘You know where I might find them?’
‘What’s it worth?’ An appraising glint appeared in her eye.
He showed her his purse, holding the mouth of it open so she could see the glitter of gold and the shimmer of silver.
‘Depends what you tell me.’
‘They were here last night.’
‘I know that much.’
‘They told Sasha they would be back, but they never returned. Probably went somewhere else. The Gilded Tree maybe.’
‘Sasha?’
‘Tall girl, black hair. She had a thing with them.’
‘Both?’
‘It takes all sorts.’
‘Where might I find Sasha? I would like to talk to her.’
‘If you spare me some of that coin I might find her for you. I might even persuade her to talk.’
‘Why might she need persuading?’
‘Your friends are bad men to cross.’
‘Then maybe you’d better remember something as well.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I am a bad man to cross too.’
‘I was starting to suspect that.’
‘Go get her, and if you bring her here, there’s gold in it for you.’
‘I’d rather have it now.’
‘I’m sure you would. Here’s silver to keep your interest.’
‘You already have my interest, handsome, but the silver’s always welcome.’
Felix watched her vanish into the crowd, not quite sure what he was getting into, but determined to proceed anyway. He really wanted to find out all he could about his attackers of the previous evening. He wasn’t hopeful but it was just possible that he might be able to find out who was behind them. Taking any chance to find that out, however slim, seemed preferable to waiting for a poison dagger in the back.
He took a sip of the beer, determined to stay sober. He might need all his wits about him soon. If the girl didn’t just run off with his money. Or if her friend didn’t just warn this Great One Olaf and Sergei had talked about. Damn, he wished he had bothered to find out her name. There was every chance that she would just take his money and never come back. Even as the thought occurred to him, he saw the golden-haired girl returning, alone.
‘She’ll talk to you, but she won’t do it here.’
‘Where then?’
‘Upstairs, where else? You’ll need to pay the house for the room and her time. That’s on top of what you owe her and me.’
‘Fine. Let’s go.’
Felix rose and followed her, still clutching one of the beers to make himself look inconspicuous. As he reached the stairs, he turned and looked at the Slayers. Gotrek met his gaze and nodded. Felix was reassured by his presence. He held up all five fingers of his free hand. He hoped Gotrek understood he meant five minutes. The Slayer nodded once more. Felix went on up the stairs, suddenly feeling all too vulnerable. If there was any sort of trap being laid here he could be dead in five minutes.
The room was large. On the walls was an interesting selection of whips and chains. The bed was well used. The girl on it looked the same way. She was tall and slim, but her eyes had an odd quality, the look of one not quite sane, or, more likely, addicted to weirdroot. She was dressed in nothing more than a thin shift.
Felix sniffed – the air smelled of stale sweat and other secretions, heavy perfume, and incense. The way his nose tingled and his throat felt tight told him that someone had been smoking weirdroot in here, mingled with something else, something he had no experience of. He moved over and opened a window. It looked down onto the street. It was a long drop. They were on the third floor of the cathouse.
‘If you’re looking to make a quick getaway that’s not the way,’ the girl said with an eerie high-pitched giggle. ‘All you’ll get is a broken neck. Believe me, it’s been tried before.’
Felix looked at her and then back at the little blonde. ‘You think I might need to make a quick getaway, do you?’
‘If you’re looking for Olaf and Sergei and they don’t like you, like Mona says, you might have no choice. You might sort of accidentally fall out.’
‘They’re bad men those pair,’ Felix said.
‘Yes, they are. Why are you interested? Mona said something about gold.’
‘Depends what you have to tell me. Depends on whether I believe what you say. Depends on a lot of things.’
‘You looking to waste our time. You one of those strange ones who just wants to talk to a girl. Or is this the lead-in to something weird?’
‘Nothing like that. I was just wondering why Olaf and Sergei might want to kill… a friend of mine.’
‘This friend – he sent you to straighten things out, did he?’
‘Something like that.’
‘You look the sort. First time I hear you speak I think you talk like a priest. Looking at you I think you might be like one of those templars, the holy boys who’d cut your throat quick as look at you.’
‘You have a lot of experience with templars, do you?’ Felix asked with a smile, thinking of the only one he had ever known, Aldred. He had certainly fitted that description.
‘You get all sorts in here, handsome,’ Mona said,
looking at Felix’s purse meaningfully. She obviously wanted the money she had been promised.
‘I haven’t heard anything I wanted to know yet.’
‘If I tell you where Olaf and Sergei are, what will you do?’ asked Sasha. I’ll be very surprised, thought Felix, considering I left them dead in an alley last night.
‘Depends,’ he said.
‘On what?’
‘On whether I can persuade them to leave my friends alone.’
‘That might be difficult, unless you’re tougher than you look.’
‘I have friends who make me look like a priest of Shallya,’ said Felix, knowing he was speaking nothing less than the truth. The sincerity of his tone must have convinced them. The girl’s response surprised him. She burst into tears.
‘I told them they should never have got involved. I told them to leave well enough alone. They wouldn’t listen.’
Felix schooled his face to immobility, wondering exactly what the crying woman meant. Instinct told him to keep quiet, to just let her speak, to see what he could pick up. He stared at her as coldly as he could manage. He noticed that Mona had become fidgety, nervous, as if she did not like the direction the conversation was taking. It seemed that she too knew something. It looked like there was some truth in the aphorism his father used to spout crudely when drunk with his merchant friends: no place like a joyhouse when it comes to overhearing secrets. The girl was looking at him again, tears running down her face. It was hard to believe anybody could feel any tender emotion for two brutes like Olaf and Sergei, but she apparently did. Or maybe it was just the weirdroot, he told himself cynically. The girl looked at him, as if expecting some response. He decided to bluff this one out.
‘What exactly did they tell you about us?’ he asked, keeping his voice as soft and polite as possible. It was amazing how menacing he could sound under the right circumstances.