02 - Death's City

by Sandy Mitchell - (ebook by Undead)

“Fritz is still normal.” Rudi spoke angrily, without thinking, and a flicker of interest appeared in Gerhard’s eyes.

  “So he’s here too.” He shrugged. “Never mind, he’ll keep. You and the girl are the main problem.”

  It was now or never. If he delayed any longer Alwyn would be certain to return with the rest of the bounty hunters before he could escape. Gerhard’s whole attitude was that of a man who was playing for time, knowing he wouldn’t have to do so for long. Rudi lunged forward, thrusting for the man’s torso with the point of his blade.

  Fast as he was, Gerhard was quicker. Evading the young watchman’s rush, he stepped to one side and drew his own sword. Steel clashed against steel as he deflected the strike, his expression as neutral as ever.

  “I’m surprised,” he admitted. “And disappointed. I didn’t think you’d try to kill an unarmed man.”

  “Why not? You don’t seem to have a problem with it.” Rudi closed again, undeterred. He hadn’t really expected the blow to connect, but it had disconcerted his opponent and made him react in haste. He launched a flurry of blows at the witch hunter, driving him back, heedless of the risk of leaving himself open to a counterattack. Gerhard had told Alwyn he wanted to take him alive, which would force him onto the defensive, and Rudi could exploit that.

  “Believe me, I’ve no intention of killing you.” Gerhard parried with exceptional skill, countering every blow Rudi aimed at him, giving ground gradually. By now he was almost at the door. “There’s far more at stake here than you realise. Put the sword down and let’s talk like civilised men.”

  “I wouldn’t believe you if you told me the sun goes down at night,” Rudi said.

  “That’s unfortunate. What I have to tell you is complicated. But this is bigger than either of us. Thousands of lives are at stake. You must listen…” For the first time in their acquaintance Rudi heard an edge of desperation enter the witch hunter’s voice. Carried away by his own words, Gerhard’s concentration faltered for a moment. It was just an instant’s opening, but Rudi took full advantage of it. Pivoting on the ball of his forward foot he drove his elbow into the witch hunter’s midriff and as the man folded he struck down with the hilt of his sword to deliver a stunning blow to the back of his neck.

  Gerhard collapsed, unconscious before he hit the floor. Rudi resheathed his sword, breathing heavily, and took a moment to compose himself before he left the building. He needed to blend into the crowd and to do that he had to look calm and unconcerned. He closed the front door of the lawyer’s office carefully behind him as he made his way out onto the street.

  The narrow thoroughfare was as crowded as ever and he slipped easily into the stream of pedestrians, keeping his eyes open for a familiar face. No sounds of pursuit seemed to follow him, but he remained tense, glancing around as he reached the junction of the alleyway with the main thoroughfare.

  It was as well that he did. Bodun the dwarf was hurrying through the crowds, surprisingly fast for such stocky legs, complaining loudly about the size and slowness of the passers-by impeding him.

  “And another thing,” Rudi heard above the chorus of complaint provoked by the dwarf’s progress, “that was the first half-decent mug of ale I’ve been able to find since we arrived in this gods-forsaken cess pit and…” Ignoring the rest of the tirade Rudi scanned the street, making out the tall figure of Conrad, Alwyn’s husband, jogging along at the dwarf’s side.

  Sinking back into the mouth of the Deedsalee, Rudi glanced back. If he was quick, he might just be able to slip back past the lawyer’s office and out the other end. He only had time for a single pace in that direction, however, before Alwyn appeared through the front door and glanced up and down the passageway. Catching sight of him, she drew her sword and began to run too, heedless of the startled lawyers scattering around her like suddenly disturbed chickens.

  “Damn it!” Rudi began to run too, along the street, heedless of the stares of the passers-by, leaving a trail of bruised shins and mumbled apologies in his wake.

  “There!” Conrad shouted, spotting him at last, just as Alwyn appeared at the mouth of the Deedsalee. The sorceress joined her husband and the dwarf, but the crowds continued to impede them, blocking a party of three much more effectively than they did Rudi’s solitary progress.

  “Mind where you’re going!” somebody said angrily, and Rudi dodged around a figure wearing a well-cut student’s gown and a belligerent expression. He knew the type, a minor aristocrat packed off to the college for the social connections it would provide rather than any intellectual ability. Hanna had pointed some out scornfully on an earlier visit to the Tempelwijk. There was a whole crowd of them spilling out of a crowded tavern, which he vaguely remembered the girl telling him was a favourite haunt of one of the exclusive drinking clubs such parasites tended to join. An idea began to form in his head. “You nearly spilled my drink!”

  “Did I?” Rudi turned back and jogged the youth’s arm. Ale slopped out of the tankard he was holding and splashed the expensive fabric. “Sorry, I hate to leave a job half done.”

  “You’re going to regret that,” the young aristocrat threatened. The rest of the well-dressed students hanging around outside the tavern began to close in, muttering among themselves.

  “Think so? Me and my mates there can take a bunch of pansies like you with one hand tied behind our backs.” Rudi shoved the student hard in the chest, pitching him back among his friends.

  It was like throwing a brand into a barrel of pitch. The students surged towards him just as the pursuing bounty hunters caught up.

  “One side, manlings!” Bodun hurled one of the obstructing students out of his way and most of them turned on the mercenaries with whoops and yells. “Grungi’s beard, are they all insane?”

  “This is Marienburg,” Conrad reminded him, punching out an aristocrat who seemed to be trying to part his hair with a heavy pewter tankard. “Of course they are!”

  “Much obliged.” Rudi decked the young man who’d challenged him and began running again. He doubted that the drunken students would slow the bounty hunters down for long, but he should be able to open up an impressive lead on them before they fought their way free of the brawl he’d created. “Oh, for Sigmar’s sake!”

  Theo and Bruno appeared at the other end of the street, spotting him almost at the same instant. Clearly trusting in their comrades’ ability to take care of themselves, they ignored the street fight and began to run too, heading straight for him. Rudi swerved, taking a narrow side passage he’d never been down before. It was completely empty of foot traffic, which struck him as unusual, and with a grim sinking feeling his intellect told him the reason an instant before his eyes confirmed it. It led to another landing stage, on the same back canal he’d seen before.

  “Dreck!” The planks of the narrow platform clattered under his boot soles and he glanced around frantically. Echoing shouts from the mouth of the passageway told him that Theo and Bruno, the two most dangerous swordsmen in the entire band, had spotted him and were in hot pursuit. There was no escape back the way he’d come. So far as he could see he had two options, fight or swim.

  Or maybe not. A flicker of motion in the corner of his eye offered him the faint possibility of a third alternative. Without thinking, before his conscious mind could intervene to dissuade him, he increased his pace as much as he could and leapt out over the water.

  Time stretched, as it sometimes seemed to in combat, and he had all the leisure he needed to take in the startled expression on the face of the bargee piloting the lighter he’d just had time to register was passing before he jumped. For a moment he thought he wasn’t going to make it after all, but at least one of the gods must have been with him, because his boots sank into the springy surface of the taut sheet of canvas covering the hold.

  “Hey!” the riverman just had time to shout before Rudi leapt again, the coarse fabric snapping straight beneath his feet and bouncing him out across the waterway. Another ramshackle landing stage loo
med larger and larger in front of him and a dispassionate voice at the back of his mind wondered if he could possibly make it.

  Desperately, he lunged forward, falling across the planks with an impact which jarred the breath from his body, his legs dangling over the waters of the canal. He began to slide, his hands groping frantically for something to arrest his progress. Just as it seemed he was doomed to plunge into the water, his scrabbling fingertips found a gap in the planking. Slowly, agonisingly, he pulled himself up onto the hard wooden surface.

  “Come on!” Theo’s voice echoed across the water. “There’s a bridge over there. We can still catch him!” Rudi struggled to his feet and turned, just in time to see the two bounty hunters running back up the side passage leading to the landing stage on the other side of the water. He knew the bridge the mercenary captain had meant. He took it every time he came to see Artemus, and if they ran as hard as he expected his pursuers to they’d be across it in a matter of minutes. He had to get out of here. Despite the pain in his ribs he forced himself into an unsteady jog.

  The side passage leading to the landing stage gave way onto a narrow alley, almost identical to the one where he’d found the dead lawyer and the enigmatic notebook with its tantalising clue to Magnus’ possible whereabouts, except that most of the businesses here seemed to be selling incense for supplicants to burn in the numerous temples which gave the ward its name. He didn’t recognise it, but he knew the district well enough to surmise that if he turned away from the bridge it would bring him out on another thoroughfare he was familiar with, and to his relief this guess turned out to be correct. He was barely a hundred yards from the Scrivener’s guildhall.

  Every step of the way he expected to hear sounds of pursuit, but luck or the gods appeared to be with him and he reached his goal with no further sign of the mercenaries.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Artemus asked, looking at Rudi with an expression of mild concern. “You do seem a trifle incommoded, I have to say.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, still a little short of breath. The scribe nodded and looked at him sceptically, taking in his dishevelled appearance.

  “I’m delighted to hear it.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Even if you do seem a trifle breathless, and those contusions on your hands look most uncomfortable.”

  Now that he’d mentioned it, Rudi suddenly found the grazes where he’d scrabbled for purchase on the landing stage were itching like mad. Looking back on the incident, he could hardly believe he’d acted so recklessly. He shrugged, trying to ignore the discomfort.

  “I’ve had worse.”

  “The rigours of life as a Black Cap, no doubt.” The scribe nodded again. “You do seem to find yourself in harm’s way an inordinate amount of the time, my young friend, even for a watchman.”

  “It’s what I’m paid for,” Rudi said, happy to reinforce the conclusion Artemus had just drawn without actually lying about it. He shrugged again. “Besides, I’m seeing Hanna later. I’m sure she can do something to help.”

  “So long as the healers’ guild doesn’t get to hear about it,” Artemus said, leaving Rudi to wonder if he was joking or not. He began to rearrange the writing materials on his desk. “I thought today we might consider the place of the comma, a humble mark of punctuation to be sure, but vital in conveying the full nuances of meaning. You think I exaggerate? Let me enlighten you. A single misplaced comma can alter the entire meaning of a sentence, and by extension the whole document of which it forms a part. Court cases have hung on just such ambiguities, lives and fortunes made forfeit or unexpectedly reprieved by a simple curl of ink. If you wish to be clearly understood, then let me assure you that mastery of the comma is an essential step towards that aim.”

  “I see,” said Rudi, lost as usual in the torrent of words. The scribe’s enthusiasm for his craft was undiminished, even after years of toil, and the subtleties of language was a subject which never ceased to fascinate him. Much of what he said went over the young watchman’s head, but he usually listened attentively and tried to remember as much as he could. Today, though, another topic was uppermost in his mind.

  “You travelled a lot in the Empire, didn’t you?” he asked abruptly. If Artemus was surprised at the sudden change of subject he didn’t show it, just nodding in response.

  “A fair amount, even if I do say so myself. Why do you ask?”

  “I came across a name recently, looking for that friend I told you about.” He’d mentioned a little of his search for Magnus to the scribe, without going into too many details. “He might have been trading with them or something and I thought if anyone I know might have heard it before it would most likely be you.”

  “And the name would be?” Artemus enquired.

  “Von Karien. Does that mean anything to you?” The question was all but redundant; the moment he’d spoken the name the scribe’s eyes had darkened.

  “I’ve heard it before,” he admitted. “They’re minor aristocracy from somewhere near Altdorf, But if your friend has really had dealings with them, then perhaps it’s best for all concerned that he remains lost.”

  “How do you mean?” Rudi asked, masking the shiver of apprehension which gripped him as well as he could.

  “There was a scandal some years ago,” Artemus said at last. “I don’t remember the details, but there were accusations of heresy. The old graf was supposed to have made some kind of pact with the Dark Powers.” He made the sign of the trident. “Of course these stories grow in the telling, but even today the family is shunned by most of its neighbours.”

  “Did he leave an heir?” Rudi asked, feeling a tingle of unease as he recalled the lines of the mysterious letter.

  “That was the odd thing,” he said, “now you come to mention it. His son disappeared without trace. When the old graf was executed, his cousin inherited the estate.”

  “And the son,” Rudi persisted, trying to ignore the idea which was growing in his mind despite his rational self insisting that it was utterly absurd. “How old was he?”

  “Just a toddler. If he was still alive these days, though, he’d be about sixteen or seventeen, I suppose. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason,” Rudi said, his mind reeling with the enormity of the thought. About his own age. And he’d been adopted, no one having any idea who his parents were. Except Magnus, who had written the letter to Cornelius van Crackenmeer, mentioning the von Karien heir…

  It was ridiculous, of course, but the idea was curiously seductive. Masking his excitement as best he could, he turned the conversation to more neutral subjects and tried to lose himself in the mysteries of the comma.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “You really think you could be an aristocrat?” Hanna asked, her face twisting with amusement at the idea. She dropped an exaggerated curtsy and stifled a giggle. “My lord.”

  Rudi sighed. Now he’d spoken his suspicions out loud, he had to admit they did sound pretty absurd.

  “I just thought your mother might have said something to you about the von Kariens, that’s all.” He looked around the cluttered workroom in the bowels of the college, where the porter at the gate had directed him to. Dishes of herbs and other substances he couldn’t identify lay on a couple of stout wooden workbenches, where several pots bubbled away on spirit burners, and the walls were lined with shelves crammed with pots and storage jars. Hanna looked very much at home, preparing materials for the students and putting together a few remedies for her own use as well. No one seemed to mind, and as she said the college had plenty of resources at its disposal.

  “I’m afraid not.” Hanna took one of her preparations from a nearby shelf and daubed it on his outstretched hands. The itching eased at once and Rudi sighed gratefully.

  “That’s much better, thank you.”

  The girl smiled at him, all trace of mockery gone. “Don’t mention it. I was waiting for a chance to try it out anyway.” She dropped the little pot into her satchel, which was hanging on a hook by the doo
r. It chinked gently, betraying the presence of several others already inside. The task completed, she sniffed suspiciously at one of the bubbling concoctions and removed it from the heat. “Are you sure my mother knew something about all this?”

  “That’s what the letter said.” Rudi drew it out of his pouch and handed it to her. Hanna scanned it, an expression of puzzlement growing on her face.

  “He only says he thinks she might suspect,” she pointed out, but the expression remained. She glanced up at him again. “But I can see why you might think he’s talking about you.” A grin spread slowly across her features, erasing the marks of care and stress which the last few weeks had placed there. Despite her manner, she still seemed frailer than usual, the talisman on her forehead continuing to do its malevolent work, and Rudi felt a pang of concern for her. “It’s like one of the melodramas the travelling players perform. A long-lost heir, a peasant lad with a destiny…”

  “You’re right, it is pretty stupid,” Rudi agreed, feeling oddly deflated. “It must have been some other business Magnus was involved in.” He shrugged. “I mean, how’s a two-year-old supposed to get all the way to Kohlstadt from Altdorf on his own? It’s ridiculous.”

  “Well, yes.” Hanna nodded, then grinned again. “But suppose it was true. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

  “I suppose. If I can’t find Magnus in Marienburg I’ll have to go to Altdorf and talk to the von Kariens anyway. Maybe they know how to get in touch with him.”

  “With Gerhard in town that might be the safest thing to do,” Hanna said, all trace of merriment suddenly leaving her face. “He won’t give up on either of us, you know.”

  “The college should be able to protect you,” Rudi pointed out. “Now you’re a licensed student of magic he’s got no grounds to come after you. Especially under Marienburg law.”

  “I don’t think the letter of the law concerns him all that much,” Hanna said. She shook her head dejectedly. “And being licensed isn’t going to help much if he cries Chaos on us again.”