“You said that about the stream,” Hanna reminded him. Rudi nodded.
“I suppose so. But there might be a village or something that way.” He pointed. “We could trade the pelts, and ask for directions.”
“Or get arrested as heretics…” Hanna finished.
“I suppose you’re right,” Rudi conceded. “But we have to risk it some time.”
They continued debating the point over breakfast. The carrots, once washed free of soil in the stream, were sweet and crunchy, a delightful change in their diet which both companions relished. Living almost entirely on meat wasn’t the best of ideas, Hanna said, going into some detail about the various imbalances of the humours which were likely to result. Rudi wasn’t exactly sure what humours were, but he didn’t like the sound of them at all.
At length they gathered up their packs and, after pulling up all the carrots they could readily find, they set off along the stream bank again. The trail from the abandoned farm, though tempting, was too much of an unknown quantity to risk. It was better, they agreed, to stick to the watercourse, and hope that when it finally brought them close to an inhabited area it would be far enough from Kohlstadt for no one to have heard of Gerhard’s arrest warrant.
“After all,” Hanna pointed out, “this can’t be the only farmstead to have used the stream for irrigation.”
At first, as they plodded along, Rudi wondered if it was just his imagination, but after a while he was sure of it; the water was flowing faster than before.
“We must be going downhill,” Hanna said, evidently noticing the phenomenon too. Rudi nodded.
“Perhaps we’re getting nearer the river.” A thin mist of white vapour became visible over the next undulation in the moor, around which the stream curved ahead of them. Rudi broke into a trot, eager to see if he was right. Hanna watched him go with an expression of amused tolerance for a moment then hurried up too. As they began to round the hillock, Rudi became aware of a low, bass rumbling, like distant thunder. He looked up expectantly, but the sky was the same rich blue it had been all summer, the only clouds visible faint skeins of white, like floating feathers.
“Look out!” Hanna grabbed his arm just as his foot slipped on a spray-slick rock. He fell back hard against unyielding stone, the breath driven painfully from his body.
“What did you do that for?” he snapped, rising onto a throbbing knee, and glaring at her. Hanna simply gestured behind him.
Rudi turned, and gasped, his ill temper falling away like the waters below him. The stream had vanished into a gaping hole in the ground, a dark mouth that swallowed it as though it had never been. If Hanna hadn’t been so quick he would have tumbled into it, and been lost forever.
“What on earth is that?” he asked, stunned. He’d never dreamed that water could do anything like this. It soaked into the ground of course, but that was in a slow and orderly fashion. Hanna looked equally mystified.
“I’ve no idea,” she said. “Maybe there’s a cave down there or something.”
For a moment Rudi found himself contemplating ways of climbing down the rock walls confining the torrent, and continuing to follow it. But there was no point in even thinking about it. It would be suicide to try, and even if they survived the descent there was no guarantee that the watercourse would ever surface again.
“What do we do now?” Hanna said, evidently coming to the same conclusion. Rudi shrugged.
“We’ll have to go back, and try the path.” Briefly he considered the possibility of continuing across the moor in the same direction and hoping to find where the stream emerged, if it ever did. But he dismissed the idea at once. They’d get lost for certain, and there was no guarantee that they’d ever find their way back to civilisation. And Marienburg would be getting further away than ever.
“I think you’re right,” Hanna agreed, but her tone was enough to tell him how little she liked the idea.
They made it back to the abandoned farmstead shortly after noon, and sat by the ashes of their campfire to eat with a curious sense of futility. Afterwards they set out along the overgrown track with a renewed sense of trepidation. Rudi knew it was foolish to feel disappointed, as though the stream had betrayed them somehow, but he resolved to heed the lesson nevertheless. From now on nothing could be relied on.
His tracking skills picked out the old path easily, and they followed it for some time without incident. It meandered across the moor, taking the line of least effort. He began to realise that it must once have been wide enough for a horse-drawn cart to negotiate. That implied that wherever they were going had a market, or access to one.
The longer they walked, the more desultory became their conversation. Their apprehension increased with every step. When they did speak it was to express some fear about where they were going, or to suggest some plan to cope with that contingency. Both of them became convinced that the track would lead to the heart of a bustling village, and that the population would instantly recognise them.
So when it came to an end at last, and the two fugitives found themselves standing on a wide road of hard-packed earth without a soul in sight, it was hard not to feel a sense of anti-climax.
“Which way do you think?” Rudi asked, glancing up and down it. It seemed to be running roughly northeast to southwest, and there was no clue as to what lay in either direction.
“That way.” Hanna looked up from a curiously shaped stone a few yards away, and gestured southwest. Rudi pointed in the other direction.
“Marienburg should be that way.”
“Well Kohlstadt definitely is.” Now he was closer to her, he could see that Hanna was pointing to letters chiselled into the stone. “See?” She indicated a line of them, which presumably spelled out the name of the village, next to an arrow pointing in the direction he’d indicated. Rudi nodded, silently appalled at his naivety. Unable to read the warning, he would have set off directly into the arms of their enemy.
“What does the other one say?” he asked, once again forcibly reminded of the advantages of literacy.
“Kallcaat,” Hanna said instantly. “No indication of how far that is, though.”
“I think I’ve heard of it.” The name sounded vaguely familiar, and after a moment he remembered Magnus mentioning it once. Something to do with a barge he was chartering. “I think there’s a wharf there.”
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” Hanna said, starting to walk in the direction of the arrow. After a moment Rudi fell into step beside her. Things were definitely looking up, he thought. If Kallcaat had a wharf then they could get passage on a riverboat there, and be in Marienburg in no time. To his vague surprise he found himself smiling.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
After the rigours of trekking through the wilderness the sheer ease of walking along the open road left Rudi pleasantly surprised. Conscious of their status as fugitives he kept a wary eye out for other travellers, but they were to be few and far between. In the remaining hours of daylight they encountered a small party of peasants who gazed at them with wary suspicion and a taciturn nod of greeting, a cart full of dung driven by an old man who looked and smelled as though he’d been sleeping in the stuff, and a distant cloud of dust which resolved itself into a fast-moving coach drawn by a team of horses.
The coach bore down on them with frightening speed, and Rudi watched it approach almost transfixed. He’d never seen anything like it before, and the pounding of the hooves and the rattling of the wheels seemed to fill the air like thunder.
“Get out of the way!” Hanna grabbed his arm and yanked him aside, seeking refuge on the springy grass of the verge. The equipage whirled past in a blur of equine limbs, varnished wood, and brightly-liveried coachmen, leaving them choking in the cloud of displaced dust which settled slowly back to the road in its wake. Rudi watched it disappear in the direction of Kallcaat, his mouth agape.
“That must have been a nobleman,” he said at last. “Maybe even the Emperor himself!” Hanna laughed.
�
��It was the overland coach from Marienburg to Altdorf,” she said. “It said so on the side.”
They walked until the sun began to drop below the horizon, staining the sky the colour of blood. Then Rudi began to look for a suitable place to camp alongside the road. They would have stood more chance of finding a refuge away from the carriageway, but by now the light was fading so fast that it was barely possible to see. He cursed himself for not thinking about it earlier. That was the trouble with roads, he supposed, they made the going so easy you lost touch with the natural world around you.
“Can you hear that?” Hanna asked, cocking her head. Rudi strained his own ears, conscious now of a vague murmur in the distance that was barely audible above the faint wind and the sound of his own blood circulating.
“I think so.” He nodded, and resumed walking. No doubt they’d find out what it was soon enough.
Shortly afterwards they spotted a light ahead, the welcoming yellow glow of candles and hearth fires, and the sound had swelled to the hum of human activity. More than that, the wind was now carrying the mouth-flooding odour of roasting meat, mixed with a hint of horse dung and leather.
“We’re coming to a village,” Rudi said, his steps slowing. Hanna shook her head, the gesture nothing but a faint blur of pale face and blonde hair in the darkness.
“I don’t think so. There’s not enough light for that.”
“What then?” Rudi asked. The girl shrugged.
“Who cares? So long as they don’t know who we are.”
Despite their trepidation the two travellers began walking towards the glow. There was nowhere else to go in any case. Rudi found his palms beginning to sweat, and spoke a little too loudly to mask his nervousness.
“If they don’t, we might be able to trade the pelts. Make a bit of money.”
“Maybe.” Hanna’s attention was on a board fastened to a wooden pole driven into the ground at the side of the road. Just beyond it was a large building, at least as big as Steiner’s mansion. Two wings jutted from it to enclose a courtyard. Rudi found his heart hammering more loudly than ever. Whoever lived here must be rich and powerful. Perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to come to their attention at all. “There must be all sorts passing through a place like this.”
Rudi looked at the sign, which depicted a severe looking cleric of Sigmar hoisting a tankard of ale with what the artist had evidently intended to be either an expression of hearty good cheer or acute indigestion. The penny dropped.
“It’s a tavern!” Far larger than Johannes’ establishment in Kohlstadt, but he was beginning to realise that the world was a bigger place than he’d imagined, and so it was not surprising that much in it was on a correspondingly vast scale. Hanna nodded, and read the lettering under the picture out loud for him, tactful enough to pretend to be merely confirming the remark.
“The folly Friar. It must be a coaching inn.” Before he could reveal his ignorance by asking what the distinction was, she went on. “There’s a chain of them all along the main highways, where travellers can rest for the night.”
“Then that’ll do us,” Rudi said decisively. He fingered the small pouch of coins in his pack. “I’ve got money.”
“If you’re sure.” Hanna was clearly torn between caution, and the aroma of good food and the promise of a warm bed. “It’s all we’ve got remember. We shouldn’t squander it.”
“There’s plenty,” Rudi reassured her, hoping he was right. “And we’ve got the skins to sell.”
“All right.” Hanna agreed. “Let’s go in.”
They passed almost unnoticed through the courtyard. The hard-packed earth of the road gave way to cobblestones which felt hard underfoot, and sparked against the iron shoes of the horses being led about by ostlers. The coach that had passed them earlier was standing to one side, its traces empty. Flaring sconces lit the enclosed space, pushing back the darkness and intensifying it at the same time.
The main bulk of the inn lay ahead of them, the wings enclosing the courtyard turning out to be stables and storage blocks. Rudi felt his heart sinking with every step they took towards it. It was even bigger than he’d thought at first, and the babble of dozens of voices was filtering through the windows. They held the unmistakable sheen of glass, which meant that this was a prosperous establishment, so his limited supply of pennies might not go as far as he’d hoped. For a moment he was on the verge of turning away, but that would mean disappointing Hanna, and he was surprised to find that the thought of doing that was far more painful than any alternative. Besides, he’d fought wolves and beastmen; how intimidating could a tavern full of humans be by comparison?
The answer turned out to be more than he could possibly have anticipated. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open the light and noise burst out like a physical force. He checked his progress for a moment on the threshold. Hanna nudged him in the back and he stepped forward into the tumult.
The room seemed vast, larger than any enclosed space he’d ever been in before; it was divided up by tables and booths. The place reeked of old ale and sweat. The faces of most of the customers were shadowed by the oil lamps that hung from ceiling beams and brackets in the walls, they were men for the most part, although there were some women in the room too. The majority of these appeared to be employees, bustling about with flagons of ale or platters of food, although the exceptions were a mystery to Rudi. Some were clearly customers and were part of larger groups. They were dressed like the men they accompanied, in worn breeches or travel-stained leathers, and at least two of them were carrying swords. A handful of others were dressed in a more feminine manner. They circulated around the room chatting and laughing, joining the customers for a while and then leaving with one. After a moment’s thought he realised they must be there to meet friends; with the room so crowded it was no wonder they had to look around awhile before they found one.
“Can I help you?” Almost without realising it, Rudi had made his way to the bar in the corner. It was an imposing structure of polished wood, where a man in late middle age with thinning white hair and a florid expression leaned forward expectantly. Clearing his throat, Rudi nodded.
“We’d like some food. And a bed for the night.”
“I bet you would.” The man glanced at the two fugitives and laughed. So did several of the customers in earshot, and Rudi found himself blushing furiously.
“Each, I mean.” Hanna’s face hardened in a manner he remembered all too well from their infrequent encounters in Kohlstadt before fate had thrown them together, and he hurried on to forestall the incipient explosion. So far, at least, they’d managed not to draw any attention to themselves, and he desperately wanted to keep it that way. “My sister and I have travelled a long way today.”
“Ah. My mistake.” The landlord’s tone was clearly disbelieving. “So you’ll be wanting a room together then? With two beds.”
“Yes.” Hanna nailed the man with her eyes, and smiled sweetly. “If that’s not too much trouble.” Somehow her tone managed to convey that the inconvenience would be a trifle in comparison to the consequences of a refusal. He nodded, curtly.
“Dare say we can fit you in. Assuming you’ve got ten shillings between you.” Rudi’s dismayed expression was all the answer he needed. He jerked a thumb towards a door in the far corner. “You can have a mattress in the common room for five pence.”
“We’ll take two,” Rudi said, determined not to lose any more face, and he was acutely conscious of Hanna’s sensibilities. Another thought occurred to him, and he added, “we’ve got some pelts to sell if you know anyone who might be interested.” The landlord shrugged.
“Depends what they are. Hubert might be in later on, he deals in that sort of thing. I’ll send him over to your table.”
“Thank you.” Rudi turned and spotted a vacant booth on the far side of the room. “We’ll be over there when the food’s ready.”
“Fine.” The landlord scratched his nose. “What do you want me to tell him you’ve got
?”
“Rabbits mostly. And a wolf.” The landlord and his cronies laughed again, loud and raucous.
“Wolf. Yeah, right, I’ll tell him.”
“You do that.” Hanna’s lips were a thin line now. Before Rudi could stop her she hefted the bundle of pelts onto the top of the bar, and unrolled it. “And don’t forget to tell him it was a big one.”
Conversation around the bar came to an abrupt halt, although the babble of voices at the tables continued in the background. All eyes were fixed on the wolf pelt. The landlord cleared his throat.
“Yes miss. I’ll do that.” He glanced at Rudi with renewed respect. “I’ve never seen one that size before.”
“By Grungni’s beard! A greenskin mount!” A short, squat man, wider and more muscular than Rudi had ever seen peered over the bar at the skin. His face was almost hidden by luxuriant facial hair. He wore a metal helm and a chainmail shirt, and he barely came up to Hanna’s shoulder. “What became of the rider?”
“Dead.” Hanna didn’t elaborate. Rudi shrugged.
“He’d hardly have let us skin it otherwise, would he?” The dwarf bellowed with laughter and clapped Rudi on the back, making him stagger.
“By the iron of the earth, manling, you do your race credit.” He turned to the landlord. “Three more pots of that vile fluid you have the gall to call ale, and the choicest viands your miserable excuse for a kitchen can provide for my young friends here. This is a tale I must hear!” He seized the handles of the tankards in one ham-like hand, and ploughed his way back through the crowd towards a table in the middle of the room. There were other folk there, all human so far as Rudi could tell. He turned to face Hanna as he rolled the pelts up.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” To his surprise she nodded.
“Yes. If anyone’s looking out for us they’ll be expecting to see two people. If we’re part of a group we won’t be noticed.”
“Good point.” He laced the bundle together. “But we don’t know this… person.”
[Blood on the Reik 01] - Death's Messenger Page 20