As they’d found the last time they’d been on the highway, traffic was sparse, most of it evidently local. They passed a couple of carts almost identical to their own heading in the opposite direction, laden with vegetables, and once the overland coach they’d seen before hurtled by, raising a cloud of choking dust in its wake. This time, Rudi was able to get a better view of it and marvelled anew at the opulence of its furnishing and the evident wealth of its passengers, who turned their gaze away, evidently affronted at being gawped at by a peasant lad. Once they overtook a small group of travellers on foot, all armed with swords or bows; he tensed, half expecting them to be Krieger’s mercenary band, but there were no dwarfs among them and he relaxed again as soon as he realised they were strangers. A couple of them glanced up as the cart passed, and glanced away again with palpable indifference, resuming a good-natured argument with one of their number who seemed scarcely taller than a child.
“All I’m saying is, if I have to listen to one more chorus of The Road Goes On Forever I’m not going to be responsible for my actions, all right…?”
“That’s good,” Hanna said, once they were out of earshot.
“It is?” Rudi asked, trying not to sound too confused.
The girl nodded. “They didn’t take any notice of us at all. If news of Gerhard’s arrest warrants has got this far no one’s likely to recognise us.”
“Course not,” Fritz said. “They’ll expect us to be on foot.”
“Why would they have cared anyway?” Rudi asked.
Hanna clicked her tongue impatiently. “You saw their weapons, the way they were dressed. They’re adventurers, like Theo and the others. If they’d known we were fugitives they’d have tried to grab us for the reward.”
“Tried is right,” Rudi said, with more assurance than he felt.
Fritz nodded in agreement. “They’d know they’d been in a scrap, right enough.”
“Course they would,” Hanna said, the familiar sarcastic tone seeping into her voice. “Rudi could bruise their knuckles, you could bleed on them and I could show them what a really bad headache looks like.”
“Is it getting worse?”
Hanna sighed and massaged her temples. “No, not really. It’s just like when you’ve got a really bad cold and your head feels heavy and swollen, you know?” Rudi, who had never had a day’s illness in his life that he could recall, nodded sympathetically.
“Sounds bad,” he said. He was spared the necessity of trying to say more by a sudden lurch of the cart as Fritz pulled off the road onto a patch of greensward. “Why are we stopping?”
“The horse needs a rest,” the stocky youth said. He stretched, wincing. “And so do I.”
“We all do,” Hanna said, jumping from the cart and heading for a convenient clump of bushes. Rudi climbed down a little more slowly, surprised at how stiff he felt, and held out a hand to help Fritz disembark. The stocky youth hesitated a moment, then took it, pride overcome by the stiffness of his limbs.
“Thanks.” He half jumped, half fell to the ground, and limped round to the horse, releasing it from the shafts with the ease of long practice. He unfastened the reins, removing the bit from its mouth, and ruffled its mane with surprising gentleness. “Good boy. Bet you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” Rudi watched him lead it over to a small pool, where it bent its head to drink, trying to hide his astonishment. He’d always thought of the older boy as nothing more than a feeble minded thug, and this sudden revelation of another side to his character was hard to assimilate.
“People are always more complicated than you think,” Hanna said, returning from the bushes rather more sedately than she’d gone, and clearly reading the thoughts on his face.
Rudi nodded. “I’m beginning to find that out,” he said. The horse whickered, butting Fritz gently with its forehead, and the stocky youth patted it.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m out of apples. You’ll just have to make do.” The horse turned and began to crop the grass.
“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Hanna said.
Fritz shrugged, trying to hide his embarrassment at the implied compliment. “I’ve always got on well with animals.” Rudi bit down on the instinctive retort which almost escaped his lips. They’d have to work together, at least until they reached Marienburg, and antagonising the lad with a smart remark wouldn’t help anybody. Instead he nodded.
“I’m impressed,” he said, trying not to make the praise sound grudging. He’d never had anything to do with horses himself and hadn’t realised that Fritz had either. Uncle Otto, whoever he was, had clearly taught his nephew well.
“It’s just something I can do.” For some reason his attempt to be friendly seemed to make Fritz more uncomfortable than their usual state of simmering hostility. The hulking youth coughed and glanced at their packs. “What have we got to eat?”
“I’m not sure,” Rudi said, grateful for the change of subject. “We just grabbed what we could before we left the bounty hunters.”
“Cold pork.” Hanna was ferreting through her satchel. “Some bread, cheese, that’s about it.” She glanced at Rudi. “How about you?”
“Some dried fruit.” He rummaged in his own pack. “A flask of water. And that bottle of ale Theo had.”
“You took the ale?” Hanna stared at him in horror. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“What?” Apprehension flared as he took in her alarmed expression.
“Bodun will track you to the ends of the earth.” Then her serious mien dissolved into laughter, which, after a moment, Fritz joined in with.
“That’s not funny,” Rudi said, which only seemed to make his companions laugh all the more, and after a moment he found himself cackling just as hysterically as the others. All the tension and horror of the last few days seemed to fade with it, and once he recovered his breath he found he felt more relaxed than he could recall feeling since the whole thing had started in the woods outside Kohlstadt all those weeks before.
“I get it,” Fritz said, mumbling around a plug of bread and cheese. “Dwarfs are very keen on their ale, right?”
“That’s right,” Hanna said, taking a swig from the bottle. “So we’d better get rid of it before he smells it on the wind.”
“Good idea,” Fritz agreed, gulping a couple of mouthfuls in turn and passing the bottle to Rudi. The drink was welcome, washing down the makeshift meal. He found himself savouring the late summer sunshine and the scent of the grass almost as though they were just on a sociable picnic instead of fleeing for their lives.
“Better get moving,” he said after a moment.
Hanna sighed reluctantly. “I suppose so,” she agreed. While Fritz led the horse back to the shafts, she and Rudi collected their packs and returned to the cart. It was only as she slung her bundle up under the seat that something seemed to occur to her and she veered off towards the back.
“What are you doing?” Rudi asked.
“Don’t you want to know what we’ve stolen?” she asked, tugging at the cords holding the sheet of canvas down.
“We haven’t exactly stolen…” Rudi began, then trailed off as the realisation took root that this was precisely what they had done. The cart wasn’t theirs and neither was whatever it contained. In the panic and confusion of their escape from the soldiers’ camp he’d thought of it purely as a means of transport and hadn’t spared a moment to consider the rightful owner or what it might be carrying.
Conscience fought briefly against pragmatism and lost. What was done was done, and any other course of action would have led to their deaths. Conscious that some vital but vaguely defined line had been crossed, he sighed and followed Hanna, curious to see what she’d found.
“Boots,” she said after a moment. “It’s full of boots.”
“Boots?” Rudi pulled the shroud back further, to find that the cart was indeed stuffed with boots identical to the ones on Fritz’s feet.
The youth joined them and nodded. “Standard issue,�
�� he said. “They gave me a pair when I joined up. Good ones too.”
“Maybe we could sell them,” Rudi suggested. “They must be worth a few shillings at least. Maybe even a couple of crowns.”
“Maybe we could,” Hanna agreed, rummaging through the pile. “If we had any left ones.”
In the end, they dumped them in a convenient hollow behind a clump of gorse in case any searchers spotted them from the road, and moved on. Conscious of a sense of disappointment among his companions, Rudi did his best to raise their spirits.
“Maybe it’s a good thing,” he said after a while, as the road unwound itself beneath the wheels. “We can rig the canvas over the back and sleep in there now. It should keep the rain off nicely.”
“I suppose so,” Hanna said.
Fritz glanced at him, then returned his attention to the highway ahead. “Does it look like rain to you?”
Rudi nodded. “It’s clouding up,” he said. “You can’t see much now, but you will by nightfall.” The sun was still bright, but thin ribbons of dull grey cloud were visible to the north, hanging like smoke against the bright blue dome of the sky.
“Well, you’re the nature boy,” he said.
To Rudi’s quiet relief, his presentiment of rain was borne out just enough to impress the others with his knowledge of fieldcraft, a faint but persistent drizzle beginning shortly before dusk.
“Best start looking for somewhere to camp,” he said after a while.
“Good idea. I don’t fancy trying to get set up when we can’t see what we’re doing.” Only a faint edge of bitterness to her voice betrayed her frustration at the loss of her ability to conjure a light from nothingness.
“We could try one of these side roads,” Fritz volunteered. They passed one every few miles, mostly leading off towards the river, where presumably small waterside hamlets nestled next to the wharves which sustained them. Rudi and Hanna exchanged uneasy glances. There was no telling where the Reikmaiden had put in after they’d parted company with her so abruptly, and the thought of running into Shenk and his crew again was a sobering one. “There might be a tavern or something we could stay in.”
“Best save our money,” Rudi said, skirting the real reason for his reluctance. “We’ve only got about seven shillings between us.” A thought occurred to him. “Unless you’ve got something too?”
“Sorry.” Fritz shrugged resentfully. “Even if I’d had some cash when I made a run for it, you’d have it yourself by now.” He glanced pointedly at Rudi’s pack. According to the rules of the band of bounty hunters Rudi and Hanna had fallen in with, blithely unaware that the quarry they’d been tracking was another fugitive from Kohlstadt, their captive’s possessions had belonged to whoever had brought him down.
“Seven shillings won’t last long between the three of us,” Rudi said, sidestepping the issue with more tact than he was aware that he possessed. “Especially in Marienburg.” He had only the sketchiest idea of what urban living entailed, but he suspected that it would be expensive. “Best save as much as we can.”
“Fair enough.” Fritz shrugged again, although Rudi couldn’t tell how much he was mollified, and returned his attention to the horse’s rump ahead of him. “Let me know when you see a spot you like.”
That was easier said than done. Both dusk and the rain were beginning to fall in earnest before Rudi pointed to a small copse off to one side of the road.
“Over there,” he said. “If you think you can make it.”
“No problem.” The cart lurched as Fritz urged the horse away from the road, the wheels bumping awkwardly over the pitted moorland.
“Why there?” Hanna asked, peering from beneath the hood of the travelling cloak she’d donned as the weather got worse. “Why not one of the others we’ve passed?”
“It’s further back from the road,” Rudi said. “Less chance of somebody seeing us if they pass. And the leaf canopy looks thicker. There should still be some dry wood there to get a fire going.”
“Sounds good to me,” Fritz said, with something approaching enthusiasm. As they neared the stand of trees and the going underfoot became more treacherous, he jumped down and began leading the horse. “Will this do?”
“I think so.” Rudi clambered down as the wagon came to a halt in the lee of the copse. Out of the wind, the temperature seemed appreciably warmer and the rain less intense. “Better find some kindling before the light goes.”
“Do it yourself.” Fritz began tending to the horse, releasing it from the shafts again. “I’m busy.” He looked as though he’d be some time at the task, and Rudi fought down a surge of resentment. The older boy had a point, he supposed, the welfare of the animal was vital to them all, but he couldn’t help feeling he’d lost the initiative.
“I’ll do it.” Hanna swung herself down to stand at his side. “If you’re going to set some snares you haven’t got much time before it gets dark.”
“Good point,” Rudi said, grateful for her support. Her suggestion was a sound one, a couple of rabbits would stretch their supplies long enough to keep them comfortably fed for another few days, and he wouldn’t lose face by appearing to follow Fritz’s lead. He began to move off in search of the rabbit runs he was sure would be there, but Hanna called him back.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, with a glance at his pack.
“What?” For a moment Rudi couldn’t think what she meant, then realisation struck. He rummaged through it for his tinderbox and handed it over. Hanna took it quickly, then turned away, trying to hide her expression. She wasn’t quite quick enough, and Rudi felt a pang of sympathy. The simple tool was a tangible reminder of the abilities that the witch hunter had so cruelly ripped away from her, and handling it must have gnawed at her like acid in her soul.
“Thank you.” Her voice was tight and sufficient warning for him not to say any more. Instead he shrugged and walked off in search of somewhere to lay his snares.
When he returned she’d managed to coax a small, smoky fire into life in the shelter of the largest tree she could find, which he regarded with a smile of approval, trying not to compare it with the brighter blazes she’d kindled by magic earlier in their travels. Fritz was hunkered down next to it, warming his hands at the flames.
“Shame we haven’t got a stew pot,” he said.
“Shame we haven’t got first class coach tickets as well,” Hanna said flatly.
“We’ve got better than that,” Rudi said, indicating the wagon. “We’ve got transport and a dry place to sleep.” In his absence, one of his companions, Fritz, he assumed, had rigged the sheet of canvas over the body of the cart to make a comfortable shelter.
“I suppose so,” Hanna said, shrugging, and handing him a chunk of bread and cheese and a mug of one of her herbal infusions. Fritz sniffed suspiciously at the steaming drink before sipping at it cautiously. A smile began to spread across his face.
“That’s good,” he said in tones of mild surprise.
“You’re welcome.” A reciprocal smile flickered briefly on Hanna’s face and Rudi forced down a brief stab of jealously. He’d grown used to the two of them depending on each other and Fritz’s presence was already changing the way they interacted. “It should help relax you and ease the stiffness in your muscles.”
“Help us sleep too, I should think,” Rudi said.
Hanna nodded. “Not that I’ll need any help with that tonight.” By way of an answer, Rudi yawned widely. None of them had slept since the night before last, and in the interim they’d escaped the mercenaries, been captured by Gerhard, eluded him and the beastmen and travelled further than he’d ever thought possible in a single day. He echoed her gesture.
“Best get turned in,” he said.
“I’m for that.” Fritz stretched and ambled across to the wagon. Hanna had placed the bedrolls in it already, her own to the left and Rudi’s in the middle, leaving Fritz to settle over to the right. He clambered in, kicked his boots off and was snoring within mo
ments.
“Maybe I should stay on watch,” Rudi suggested. “At least for a while.”
“I don’t see the point. You’re too tired to stay awake even if you tried.” As if to underline her words, another yawn forced its way past his jaws. Rudi nodded, conceding the point.
“You’re the healer,” he said.
“Yes. Yes, I am.” A new note of decisiveness entered her voice, a trace of the animation he was used to hearing there. “And I don’t need magic for that.”
“You’re a good one, too,” Rudi went on, fanning the spark of renewed self-esteem he seemed to have kindled in her.
A faint smile appeared, twitching the corner of her mouth. “I’m a competent apprentice really. But I can still learn.” Abruptly, the darkness was back in her eyes. “That’s something he can’t take from me.”
“We still don’t know that whatever he did is permanent,” Rudi ventured cautiously. “That thing must come off somehow.”
“It’ll need magic,” Hanna said flatly. “There’s a powerful ward embedded in it, I know that much. Every time I try to touch it, it’s agonising.”
“It’s mainly wax,” Rudi said, leaning closer to examine the thing as best he could by the flickering firelight. “Perhaps if we soften it with an ember from the fire I can prise it off.”
“No!” A note of panic entered her voice. “When you tried to touch it before it felt just as bad. If you start tampering with it you’ll kill me, I just know it!”
“Then we’ll just have to wait,” Rudi said, shocked at the terror in her voice. Moved by an instinct he barely understood, he put his arms around her, holding her close, half expecting her to pull away. To his surprise, however, she hugged him in return, moving deeper into the embrace. Unsure what to do next, he just waited, acutely aware of the warmth of her body and the pliant softness of it against his chest. Hanna laid her head on his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. “There must be a mage in Marienburg who can help.”
“Thank you.” Hanna pulled away from him after a moment, her voice trembling slightly. “I really needed that.” A moment later, to his delighted astonishment, Rudi felt her lips brush against his cheek. “I’ve never said it before, but I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”
[Blood on the Reik 02] - Death's City Page 5