03 - Death's Legacy

by Sandy Mitchell - (ebook by Undead)

  “Run across something unexpected in one of his little plots again, has he?” The shadowy figure stood aside, and for the first time Rudi became aware that he’d been holding a dagger behind the door. “You’d better come in, then. It’s too dark to read out here anyway.” The empty hand gestured towards the glow of lamplight. “After you.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The heavy door boomed closed behind them, echoes reverberating along the narrow passageway, and von Karien gestured towards the faint glow of light in the distance. Used to life in the forest, stalking and trapping game by moonlight, Rudi found his eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness, making out the shape of his strange host’s shirt and pale face apparently floating in the gloom like a gigantic moth.

  “This way.” Von Karien waited for Rudi to start moving ahead of him, the knife in his hand still held ready, as if anticipating treachery of some kind. After a moment’s hesitation Rudi started walking, opening the distance between them instinctively to one where he would be able to turn and defend himself if he had to. This, he was suddenly sure, had been noted by the taciturn man behind him, but whether it would relieve or accentuate his manifest suspicion he couldn’t tell.

  The corridor was plain and unfurnished, in stark contrast to the opulence that he’d seen in von Eckstein’s palatial residence. Even the entrance hall of Magnus’ house in Kohlstadt, which had seemed lavish enough when the village was all he’d known of the world, had contained more furniture than this. The only thing breaking the monotony of the whitewashed wall was another symbol of Sigmar, a twin-tailed comet this time, almost exactly opposite the bottom tread of the narrow stairway, leading up into an unseen hallway choked with hovering shadows. Skirting it, Rudi pushed open the door ahead of him, limned by the soft glow of candlelight, and stepped into the room beyond.

  This, too, was a complete surprise. He’d been expecting a parlour of some kind, like the one Magnus had used to receive his guests and conduct business in, but instead he found himself being ushered into a warm, well-lit kitchen. A worn wooden table stood in the middle of the room, three chairs drawn up to it, and a fourth pushed away, evidently the one von Karien had been occupying when he’d knocked on the door. A pewter plate, containing the remains of a stew, stood next to it, alongside a mug of ale and a chunk of bread. The aroma of food hit him at once, flooding his mouth with saliva, and his stomach growled softly.

  “You’ve come quite a way.” Von Karien resumed his seat, and cut a piece off the loaf with his knife, while he looked at Rudi appraisingly.

  “From Marienburg. I arrived in the city this morning,” said Rudi. Despite his desperate desire to find the answers he sought, which might only be minutes away, he couldn’t help glancing at the pot on the stove. Von Karien jerked a perfunctory head at it.

  “Help yourself.” He slit the seal on von Eckstein’s letter, and skimmed the contents, while Rudi rummaged around looking for another plate. “The cupboard behind you.”

  “Thank you.” Rudi found another of the metal plates, and a spoon. There was more in the pot on the stove than he’d expected, and he ladled out a generous portion, surprised by how hungry he felt, and returned to the table. Von Karien pushed one of the chairs out with his foot, wordlessly inviting him to sit. It was the one next to his right hand, Rudi noted, which still held the knife. Placing the food carefully on the worn wooden surface, he slipped the bow, quiver and pack off his back, and propped them up against the nearest table leg.

  “It says here that you want to see me on personal business,” von Karien said. He turned the paper over, his eyes narrowing. “And he’s directed you from the fire wizards’ den. Did you have personal business with them too?” Rudi shook his head.

  “He just seemed to think it was the best landmark around here to aim for, as I don’t know the city. It’s pretty hard to miss.” He took a mouthful of the stew as he spoke, hoping to mask any unease that he might have betrayed in his answer. The food was underdone, the lumps of meat chewy and the vegetables almost raw, but there was still a faint aftertaste of burning, where the pan had been left for too long without stirring. Nonetheless, it was warm and filling, and he found himself wolfing it down regardless. Von Karien regarded him with an expression of faint curiosity.

  “That’s true enough,” he conceded. If he noticed Rudi’s evasion, he gave no sign of it. “Walk here from the Wasteland, did you?” Rudi shook his head, his mouth full.

  “I came up the Reik,” he said, indistinctly, “on a boat. Why do you ask?” The pale-faced man shrugged.

  “I’m not used to anyone eating my cooking with such obvious enthusiasm,” he said dryly.

  “I’ve had worse,” Rudi assured him.

  Von Karien regarded him appraisingly. “I can believe it. You’re obviously used to surviving outdoors.”

  Surprised, Rudi looked up at him. “How can you tell?”

  “You’re dressed like a forester, and you walk like someone used to stalking game.” The nobleman nodded at Rudi’s pack. “That’s a symbol of Taal on the clasp there. Not something you see many city people with.”

  “That’s right.” Rudi was vaguely surprised at how easy conversation with the man seemed to be. Perhaps they really were related, he thought, with rising elation. Perhaps that accounted for it. “I grew up in the woods, near a village called Kohlstadt, on the border of the Wasteland.” He watched von Karien’s face carefully as he said the name, hoping to see a spark of recognition. None came. The pale face just stared at him intently, waiting for him to go on, and he was uncomfortably reminded of the expression on the lace of the wizard who’d asked Hanna the nature of her business with the Bright Order.

  “Never heard of it,” von Karien said, after the silence had lengthened between them. “I take it that’s why you moved on to Marienburg?”

  “Sort of,” Rudi said, wondering how best to lead up to the purpose of his visit. “My father died in a beastman attack.”

  “Beastmen?” A flicker of interest animated von Karien’s face at last. “You’ve actually seen them?”

  “I’ve fought them,” Rudi said. “Skaven too, if you know what they are.”

  “I’ve spent some time in the wilderness myself,” said von Karien. “I’ve few illusions left about the true state of the world.” That probably accounted for the number of religious symbols scattered around the house, Rudi thought. Now that his hunger had been assuaged enough for him to take a little more notice of his surroundings, he could see another hammerhead, hanging on the wall behind his host, and the candlelight gleamed from a chain around von Karien’s neck. Something was concealed beneath his shirt, and Rudi would have bet most of the contents of his purse that it was another of the ubiquitous talismans. “The minions of Chaos are everywhere, not just marching in the armies of the north.”

  “I know.” Rudi nodded. “I’ve fought them several times. Before he died, my father… although he wasn’t my father really…” He hesitated, not quite sure how to proceed. Von Karien nodded encouragingly.

  “Not your father? Then who was he?”

  “He was a forester. He found me wandering in the woods when I was just a child, and took me in. No one ever knew who my real parents were, or what had happened to them. Except…” The memory of Gunther’s last words, gasped out despite the terrible wounds he’d endured, rose up in his mind, making him hesitate, overwhelmed for a moment with a renewed sense of loss. With an effort of will he forced himself to go on. “As he died, he told me there was someone in Marienburg who might know who my parents were.”

  “So you went to Marienburg to find out.” Von Karien’s expression was appraising again. “Something of a shock to a country lad, I would have thought.”

  “I got by,” Rudi said. “I managed to get a job fairly quickly, so that helped.”

  “Really?” Von Karien’s voice took on a tinge of scepticism. “I wouldn’t have thought there was much call for woodcraft in Marienburg.”

  “I was a Black Cap.” Ru
di corrected himself, realising that his host was unlikely to be familiar with the Marienburg slang term. “A member of the city watch.”

  “I see.” Von Karien nodded slowly. “Which is where you learned to stay out of reach of a knife so readily. I wondered about that.”

  “You pick these things up,” Rudi said casually.

  “You do if you’re prudent. Did you find who you went there to look for?” asked von Karien.

  “Sort of,” Rudi said, “but he was completely insane. He tried to kill me.”

  “Really?” The slate grey eyes were appraising him again, searching for any obvious untruths. Von Karien’s voice took on a tinge of scepticism. “Why would he want to do a thing like that?”

  “Sigmar alone knows,” Rudi said without thinking, before realising that the man sitting next to him was evidently exceptionally pious, which was hardly surprising, he supposed, given his family history, fortunately, von Karien didn’t seem to have taken offence at the casual use of the name of his patron deity. “So far as I could tell, he was the ringleader of a Chaos cult, which probably had something to do with it. A visiting witch hunter managed to get to him before he had the chance to finish me off, though.”

  “How very fortunate,” von Karien said.

  Rudi shuddered at the memory. Much as he hated the man, he had to admit that Gerhard’s intervention could hardly have come at a more propitious moment.

  “It was,” he admitted, somewhat reluctantly. “But before that, I did find some evidence that Magnus—the cult leader—might have known the von Karien family years before.”

  “I see.” Rudi hadn’t been sure how he expected von Karien to react to this, but the man’s air of calmness was all the more unnerving for clearly being the result of an act of considerable willpower. “So, you’ve come running to me in the hope that my cousin’s twisted legacy still lives on?” He was holding the knife again, his knuckles white on the hilt.

  “Sigmar preserve us, no!” Rudi protested. “If you’d seen what Magnus was, what he’d become, you’d never ask that!” His sincerity seemed to be obvious, and after a moment von Karien nodded slowly, relaxing back into his seat, and loosening his grip on the weapon. It remained in his hand, however.

  “So why did you come all the way to Altdorf, if not for that?” he asked. Rudi hesitated.

  “Your cousin had a son, didn’t he?” he responded at last. “A child who was never found, when the witch hunters raided his estate?” Von Karien nodded, clearly understanding the import of the question, but waiting for Rudi to commit himself. Stumbling a little, he went on. “The papers I found mentioned the von Karien heir. He was about the same age as me, and Magnus lived in Kohlstadt, at least part of the time, so I wondered if possibly…” His voice trailed away.

  “You thought you might be the missing boy.” Von Karien nodded slowly, studying his face intently. “It’s possible, I suppose. There does seem to be a bit of a family resemblance.” He stood abruptly. “But we need to be sure. Fortunately, I have a friend who might be able to resolve the matter.”

  “You do?” Rudi felt a wild flare of hope.

  “I do,” said von Karien. “Although for your sake, I sincerely hope that you’re wrong. Ours is a tainted name, and I wouldn’t wish our legacy on another.” He shot another appraising look at Rudi. “Surely von Eckstein told you that?”

  “He did.” Rudi pushed his empty plate away, and accepted the mug of ale his host passed across the table towards him. The dagger, he noted with some relief, was now lying on the tabletop again, apparently forgotten. “He wasn’t the first one, either.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Von Karien poured another drink for himself, and relaxed back into his chair. “Our notoriety seems to have spread far beyond Altdorf. How do you come to be so well connected, by the way? I wouldn’t have thought a city watchman makes friends with a nobleman all that frequently, even in Marienburg.”

  “A friend of mine works for him,” Rudi said, “and I happened to be around to help defend something his enemies tried to steal from the boat I was travelling on. He felt he owed me something for that, so he wrote me the letter.”

  “I see.” Von Karien smiled sardonically. “Although I suppose, if your suspicions are correct, you’re of noble blood yourself.” He waved vaguely at the kitchen around them, presumably meaning to encompass the whole of the house. “And all this magnificence is yours by right.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Rudi said, his astonishment at the idea so evident in his voice that von Karien seemed convinced of his sincerity at once.

  The pale-faced man’s smile grew a little warmer.

  “Then you should consider it now,” he said, “although there’s precious little left of your birthright, I’m afraid.”

  “What happened to it?” Rudi asked. His gaze swept the cluttered room. “I have to admit this wasn’t quite what I expected. I thought you’d be living—”

  “Like some perfume-sodden fop?” von Karien asked. The idea seemed to amuse him. “Even when the family had money and influence, that wasn’t the life for me. I followed the colours, boy, determined to defend the Empire from its enemies.” His eyes clouded, suddenly. “I should have been looking a lot closer to home.”

  “You were a soldier?” Rudi asked. That explained a great deal, he thought.

  Von Karien shook his head. “More than that: a crusader. I rode to Kislev with the Knights Panther, eager to honour our ancient obligations, and to battle the minions of Chaos face-to-face. Three years I was there, raiding into the Northern Wastes, and I saw things I doubt you’d believe. Saw them, and killed them all.” Pride and sorrow mingled in his voice. “All the time I was hunting beastmen, and far fouler things, Manfred and Gertrude were nurturing their corruption right here, in the heart of the Empire.”

  “Manfred and Gertrude?” Rudi asked, sure he already knew the import of the unfamiliar names.

  “Your parents, if you really are who you think you are,” said Von Karien. “I’m afraid I can’t show you a portrait of either of them. I had them all burned.”

  “I can understand that,” Rudi said. It didn’t matter, he told himself, despite the sudden pang of disappointment. The face of Gunther Walder was still vivid in his memory, and that was the only image of a father he’d ever needed. “After all, they were executed as heretics.” Burned like their portraits, he thought, and forced the uncomfortable notion away as quickly as he could. He gazed at von Karien, trying to read his expression, but the nobleman’s face was neutral. “I suppose there was no doubt of their guilt?”

  “None whatsoever.” Von Karien shook his head. “They were taken in the very act of performing some blasphemous ritual. Fortunately, we were able to intervene before they could complete it.”

  “You were there?” Rudi asked, stunned at the revelation.

  “Of course I was,” said von Karien. “It was my duty as a member of a knightly order. I knew the estate, and coordinated the assault on it.” He sighed, and replaced his tankard on the table. “You might as well know the rest now, as hear it from someone else later. It was me who denounced Manfred to the witch hunters in the first place.” He watched Rudi intently, clearly wondering how he was going to take this latest surprise.

  “I see,” Rudi said levelly. He took another gulp of the thin, sour ale, more to help order his thoughts than because he wanted it. “Can you tell me why you did that?” He kept expecting some flare of violent emotion to shake him, but nothing came. Manfred and Gertrude were just names to him, whatever their blood relationship had been, and he couldn’t bring himself to care for them, or their hideous fate, at least not yet.

  “I had no choice,” von Karien said. “My duty demanded it, to the Empire, and to civilisation itself. How could I put family feeling ahead of that? The damage they were doing to everything I swore to protect…” He shook his head. “How they were ensnared in the first place, I don’t know. By the time they were taken, neither was in a fit state to answer questio
ns. Neither were most of their acolytes. They all put up quite a fight.” He shook his head again, clearly moved by the memory. “There were sorcerers among them too. Those we burned first, of course.”

  “I see.” Rudi nodded. “And did anyone manage to escape?”

  “At least one, we assumed.” Von Karien’s eyes were fixed on the past, reliving the traumatic events of a decade and a half ago. “After all, someone must have spirited the boy away, although how and why we had no idea.” He shrugged. “I’d always assumed he was long dead, sacrificed to the blasphemous thing they worshipped.” His eyes fell on Rudi again, cold and appraising. “Then you turned up tonight on my doorstep, stirring up memories I’d rather leave buried.”

  “I can understand that,” Rudi said sincerely. He took another mouthful of ale that he didn’t really want. “What made you suspect your cousin in the first place?”

  Von Karien sighed. “I’d spent more time among the minions of Chaos than any sane man would care to. By the time I returned to civilisation, I knew the signs of their presence. Even the ones most people would miss.” He emptied his tankard. “I tried to dismiss my suspicions at first, telling myself I’d become so used to looking out for the taint of the Dark Powers that I was seeing their traces where none truly existed, but after a month or two, I could no longer deny the evidence of my own eyes. I returned to Altdorf, and sought the advice of the Templars of Sigmar.”

  “That must have been difficult for you,” Rudi said tactfully.

  “It was.” Von Karien began to pour himself another drink, and frowned at the last trickle of ale as it poured from the jug. There was barely enough in his tankard to cover the bottom of it. “But it was the right thing to do.” He laughed harshly. “Of course there were those who said I’d only denounced Manfred to get my hands on his inheritance, petty-minded maggots. I soon put a stop to that, though.”

  “How?” Rudi asked, intrigued.