“I would, thank you.” The girl nodded.
The landlord echoed the gesture. “That shouldn’t be a problem.” He glanced at their packs and gestured to a passing potboy. “Koos, take these people’s baggage upstairs, there’s a good lad.”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Rudi said hastily. Having lost all he had once before he wasn’t about to let his possessions out of his sight.
The landlord nodded. “As you wish. He’s got plenty of other work to do, isn’t that right lad?”
“Yes, Dad.” Koos sloped off, clearly wishing he was somewhere else, and collected a couple of empty tankards from the table in the corner. The sorcerer and the halfling glanced up, looked at Rudi and Hanna again, and resumed their conversation.
“They want the same again,” Koos reported, slamming the mugs down on the counter.
“Who does?” Rudi asked, slipping a penny from his purse and handing it to the lad. “You look as though you could do with a drink yourself, working so hard.”
“You don’t know?” Koos looked vaguely surprised as he rounded the corner of the bar and drew another couple of drinks from the barrel. “I thought everyone knew Sam.”
“We’ve just arrived in town,” Rudi said.
“I’d never have guessed.” He picked up the drinks. “Sam gets around, if you know what I mean. Knows things, hears things. Good friend if you need one and can afford it, but he’s not someone you want to cross. The one with the beer gut is Kris. He’s all right for a spellslinger, graduated from Baron Henryk’s a couple of years back. Does enchantments, basic wizardry, he’s cheap but reliable. Usually.” He shrugged, with the trace of a smile. “But then I would say that, he’s my cousin. Manann alone knows what he’s doing with Sam, but I’ve got more sense than to ask.” He disappeared in the direction of the back table, leaving Rudi feeling foolish and a little uneasy. No doubt Koos would tell his cousin of his interest in him at once, and sure enough the mage looked up again almost as the thought came to him. Seeing Rudi’s eyes on him he smiled, nodded a polite greeting and resumed his conversation with the halfling. Sam, whoever he was, made no obvious attempt to look, but somehow Rudi knew he was being studied with an intensity all the more disturbing for being so discreet.
Oh well, no point fretting about it. What was done was done.
“What’s Baron Henryk’s?” Hanna asked, sipping her ale and trying to sound casual. Rudi knew her well enough to pick up on her barely concealed excitement, though. Her guess had been confirmed, the man in the corner was a mage, and he just hoped she wouldn’t do anything foolish until they had a chance to discuss the situation.
“Baron Henryk’s College of Navigation and Sea Magics,” Artemus said, breaking off from his conversation with the landlord. “The finest university in the known world, although there are hidebound scholars in Altdorf and Nuln who would dispute that claim. They also train and licence mages, in the same way as the colleges of Altdorf. Why do you ask?” Rudi’s stomach clenched at the question, but before either of them could find a convincing answer everyone’s attention was mercifully diverted.
“Two fish pies and an eel stew.” A cheerful, slightly harassed woman darted through the door from the kitchen, a tray in her hands laden with steaming dishes. She dumped it on the counter, began to turn and caught sight of Artemus. “Oh, it’s you. I thought you were dead. What do you want?”
“Nikolaas was just telling us you had a couple of rooms free,” Artemus said.
“Was he?” The woman stared hard at her husband, who shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Two guilders a week, per room. Up front.” She looked challengingly at Artemus.
Rudi coughed. “That sounds very reasonable, thank you. We’ll take them.” He drew four of the gold coins from his purse and dropped them into the woman’s palm. She closed her hand over them reflexively, an almost comical expression of astonishment crossing her face.
“Food and other services are extra,” she added, and Rudi nodded.
Hanna smiled. “Perhaps you could let us have an itemised bill at the end of the week?” she suggested.
“We could.” The woman’s expression softened a little. “I’m sure you’re tired after such a long journey.”
“We are,” Hanna said.
Artemus nodded. “Long and eventful,” he began. “Beset by bandits, who my young friends here drove off in a manner well worth the heari—”
“And even if it’s not you’ll tell us anyway,” the woman interrupted. She smiled at Hanna again. “I’ll show you to your room.”
“Thank you.” Hanna darted another glance towards the table in the corner, but it was empty now, save for two discarded beer steins. Rudi turned his head, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, just in time to see the door closing behind the young wizard and his halfling companion. Hanna shrugged, looking vaguely disappointed. “I am rather tired.”
“And I’m hungry,” Fritz said, as the two women retreated through the door at the back of the bar. “What have you got to eat?”
“I’d recommend the fish stew,” Artemus said, indicating the food on the counter which Koos was picking up to distribute. “Marta’s a real artist in the kitchen.”
“She doesn’t seem to like you very much,” Fritz said, with his usual tact.
Artemus shook his head. “A small misunderstanding, many years ago. But you know how women can be about these things.” Rudi, who didn’t, nodded politely. “But that’s all in the past. Tonight we have good food and comfortable beds. What else matters?”
“Not a lot,” Fritz agreed.
Rudi woke slowly the following morning, a shaft of sunshine shouldering its way through a chink in the shutters to bathe his face in warmth and light. He yawned and stretched, pleasant memories of the evening before seeping slowly into his mind.
The sausage he’d eaten earlier didn’t seem to have blunted his appetite nearly as much as he’d expected. When the food arrived he’d eaten far more than he’d expected and washed it down with more ale than he would normally have drunk as well. He’d seldom eaten fish before and the flavours and textures of the stew had been a fascinating novelty.
While they’d eaten, Artemus had kept Nikolaas, Koos and a handful of their customers entertained with stories of his travels around the Empire, although to Rudi’s quiet relief the scribe had passed over the circumstances of their meeting in favour of some of the tales he’d regaled them with on the road. Even Marta listened, although she’d been pretending to ignore the conversation, betraying her interest with occasional wordless sounds of disbelief. By the time Koos had shown the three of them upstairs to a small but comfortably appointed room he had been so ready for sleep he could barely walk straight. Even the discovery that there were only two beds had seemed a minor inconvenience and he had barely made more than a token protest at Artemus’ offer to sleep on the floor before collapsing onto the nearest mattress.
Rudi sat up, stretched again, and swung his feet off the bed. Used as he was to a simple pallet, or a bedroll out in the open air, it still felt strange to be lying on something so soft. A pang of conscience struck him; he should have been the one to sleep on the floor. He glanced across at Artemus, prepared to apologise for his thoughtlessness, but the scribe had gone, no doubt downstairs for some breakfast. Appetising cooking smells were rising from the kitchen below and the young forester felt an unexpected pang of hunger. No doubt his body was taking full advantage of the opportunity to make up for the privations of the long journey and the hardships they’d endured along the way.
He got dressed quickly and glanced at the shrouded bulk of Fritz, still snoring away in the next bed. After a moment of internal debate he decided to leave the older lad to sleep. Perhaps Hanna was awake too by now and they could discuss some of the business which had brought them to Marienburg. If not, he had no doubt that Artemus would provide some interesting conversation. Perhaps if he was discreet enough he could learn about some method of finding Magnus without having to explain
his reasons for asking.
Picking up his feet carefully, he walked around the bed, not wanting to trample on Artemus’ bedroll, but it had gone too, along with his pack. A tingle of worry began to work its way up Rudi’s spine. His own belongings and Fritz’s were still where he’d left them, of course.
Trying to ignore the sudden flare of suspicion, he picked up his quiver, removed the arrows and plunged his hand inside. His fingers closed on nothing but empty air.
His purse was gone from its hiding place, and with it the money they needed to survive here.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Hanna!” Leaving Fritz to gather what wits he had after being shaken awake, Rudi hurried down the corridor to the door of the adjacent room. So profound was his sense of agitation he tripped the latch and barged straight in without knocking, or a second’s thought as to whether she might even be awake. Well, she’d be awake, obviously, or the door would still have been barred, but it only occurred to him belatedly that she might not be dressed yet.
“What do you want?” To his mingled relief and disappointment the girl was fully clothed, but she looked up sharply as he entered. “Shut that damn door for Shallya’s sake!” She was seated on the edge of the bed and as he’d come in it had looked as though her head had been bowed. Now, as she raised it to glare at him, the seal on her forehead was clearly visible. The sight shocked him. He’d grown so used to seeing her with a headscarf on, the talisman concealed, that he’d almost managed to ignore its existence. As he closed the door the ugliness and cruelty of the thing struck him anew, and he flinched at his thoughtlessness.
“Artemus has gone. So has our money,” Rudi said, unable to think of any way of softening the blow. He flinched, anticipating her usual forthright reaction to adversity, but to his surprise she simply nodded calmly.
“I suppose we should have expected something like this,” she said. She had something in the palm of her hand, which she returned to a small leather pouch on a thong around her neck and tucked into the top of her bodice. After a moment, Rudi recognised it as the chip of shiny stone she’d taken from the dead skaven out in the wilderness. Seeing the direction of his gaze, she shrugged. “It takes some of the pressure away from inside my head. I don’t know how, but if I just hold it and sit quietly it seems to help.”
“Good.” Rudi nodded, pleased that she seemed to be coping so well. “That mage we saw last night seems to be a regular here. Perhaps if we get a chance to talk to him—” He broke off as a loud rapping resounded from the door.
“It’s me,” Fritz called.
Hanna sighed. “Come in, it’s open.” She began to tie her headscarf as the simpleton entered the room, his face purple with anger.
“I’ll kill him. I’ll break his bloody neck. Thieving, two-faced son of a—”
“That’s not helping,” Hanna said mildly.
Fritz blinked at her in astonishment. “It’ll make me feel better.”
“Me too,” Rudi said, still reeling from the scribe’s treachery. First Shenk, now Artemus; it seemed that everyone who seemed well disposed towards them had a hidden agenda. He resolved not to trust anyone from now on, however plausible they might seem. Apart from Hanna, of course, and Fritz if he had to.
“The main thing is not to panic,” Hanna said reasonably. “We’ve paid for the rooms a week in advance, so Marta’s not going to throw us out before then.”
“We’ve still got to pay for our meals, though,” Rudi pointed out.
Hanna nodded. “But not until the week’s up. Unless we give her some reason to doubt that we’ve got the money, and we could have found Artemus by then. Or got jobs or something.”
“Maybe,” Rudi said slowly. Her words sounded reasonable. Perhaps the situation wasn’t as bad as it first appeared. “But we’ll need money for other things in the meantime.”
“Fritz and I still have a couple of guilders apiece,” Hanna pointed out. She looked at the older youth. “Unless he got your purse too.”
“No chance,” Fritz said, drawing it out. “I slept with it inside my shirt.”
“Well at least one of you seems to have some common sense,” Hanna said.
Rudi sighed, ignoring the slur. “So what do you suggest we do now?”
“What do you think?” Hanna said. “Go down to breakfast.”
* * *
“Seen Artemus this morning?” Rudi asked, as casually as he could contrive. Nikolaas shook his head and placed a newly baked loaf on the table along with some boiled eggs and some hot smoked meats. The smell was so appetising that Rudi almost forgot the reason for his question.
“Isn’t he back yet?” The innkeeper shrugged. “I thought he went out again last night. Wasn’t that right?” He turned, appealing to Marta, who nodded as she poured out drinks for the three companions.
“That’s right. And I don’t suppose he will be, either.” She didn’t seem too distressed at the prospect. “He had all his luggage with him.”
“Do you know where he’s likely to be?” Hanna asked. “He was going to show us around the city a bit, help us get our bearings.”
“The only bearings you’d get from that one you’re better off not having,” Marta said flatly. “Knowing him he won’t have got any further than Tilman’s up the street.”
“What’s at Tilman’s?” Rudi asked.
“Nothing a respectable young gentleman like yourself need be concerned with,” Marta said, returning to the kitchen.
“It’s a gambling den,” Nikolaas said, once he was sure his wife was well out of earshot. “Artemus used to be in there all the time, before he left town. Quite a few other places too, truth be told.”
“I’m a pretty fair hand with the dice,” Fritz said speculatively. “I don’t suppose they’d let me have a go, do you?”
“They’d welcome you with open arms,” Nikolaas said. He glanced around furtively and dropped his voice. “It’s in the back room of the cobbler’s shop on the corner. Tell them I sent you and you shouldn’t have any trouble. And if you ever mention this conversation to my wife you can find somewhere else to sleep, all right?”
“Understood,” Rudi said, feeling a good deal happier than he had since waking up.
In broad daylight the narrow thoroughfare outside seemed less claustrophobic and threatening than it had in the half-light of the evening before. Rudi hesitated on the threshold of the tavern door, his nostrils suddenly assaulted by the smell of the city. Yesterday it had built up gradually, so he’d barely noticed it, but today it hit him in the face all at once, a strange mixture of rotting mud, human waste, decaying vegetables and a sharp, clean odour he didn’t recognise but somehow instinctively understood must be the sea. He glanced up and down the alleyway, trying to get his bearings and keep his balance as passers-by shouldered their way past.
“This way,” Hanna said confidently, turning left. Rudi and Fritz fell in behind her.
“How do you know?” Rudi asked and the girl sighed.
“Nikolaas said it was behind the cobbler’s shop on the corner. We didn’t pass one on the way in last night, so he must have meant the other end of the street.”
“Right,” Rudi said, trying to sound as though the fact had simply slipped his mind for a moment. A sign caught his eye over the heads of the endless crowd, a boot large enough for an ogre hanging from the front of a building, and he pointed. “Do you think that’s it?”
“It’s the only one on the corner,” Hanna said.
The shop was small and cramped, as Rudi was beginning to expect by now, but laid out with a good eye to maximise the use of space. A counter at one end projected almost the width of the room, blocking off a door leading to the rear of the building, and a workbench with a cobbler’s last was ranged along one side. A man was working there, hammering nails into the sole of a half-completed boot. He looked up as the three of them entered.
“Can I help you?” he asked, removing a couple of nails from the corner of his mouth.
“I hope
so.” Hanna smiled at him, adopting the simple girlish persona she’d used to try to distract Gerhard’s horsemen on the moors. It didn’t seem to be working any better here than it had then. Rudi wondered briefly if the strength of her character was too great to conceal, or whether city people were just naturally suspicious. “Would you be Herr Tilman, by any chance?”
“And you’d want to know because?” the cobbler answered, shifting his grip subtly on the hammer he still held. Rudi stepped forward, bumping his head against a pair of shoes hanging from the rafters, like much of the stock. He stood next to Hanna, hoping to back her up by his presence and impede Fritz from charging in too hastily if he’d also noticed the implied threat.
“We thought we might find a friend here,” he said. “Artemus van Loenhoek. They told us at the Dancing Pirate that he often came in shopping for shoes.”
“I know him.” The cobbler put his hammer down and jerked his head towards the door at the back of the shop. “He’s through there. Haven’t seen him in a good few years, but he doesn’t seem to have changed much.”
“Thank you.” Hanna smiled again and led the way towards the door behind the counter. The cobbler shrugged and resumed his work.
The back room was far larger than the shop, and for a moment Rudi thought they’d stumbled through the rear entrance of a tavern by mistake. There were the same tables and chairs scattered about the place and the same reek of bodies and sour ale, but the atmosphere was subtly different. Instead of the babble of raised voices, punctuated by loud laughter, that he’d grown used to in places like that, the hum of conversation was subdued. Men and a few women were clustered around the tables, cards in their hands or rolling dice and exchanging coins with a rapidity and intensity that bordered on grimness. Even the ones who appeared to be winning didn’t look too happy about it, continuing to concentrate on their games with a single-mindedness which seemed to be squeezing any vestige of joy from what ought to have been a pleasant recreation.
[Blood on the Reik 02] - Death's City Page 11