CHAPTER EIGHT

Berta returned to the Reikmaiden just after dawn, ambling up the gangplank with an air of self-satisfied lassitude, and a cheery wave to the brace of swains who had followed to see her off. Catching sight of Rudi and Shenk on deck, she allowed her grin to widen.

“You were right,” she told the captain. “This is definitely no place for a lady. I might retire here.” Her expression changed slowly to one of puzzlement as she took in Shenk’s bruised face and dishevelled appearance. “What happened to you?”

“Someone went after my purse,” Shenk said shortly. “Luckily, Rudi was there.” Ansbach, who looked a little pale, said nothing, but seemed a trifle disappointed that his own contribution to the affray had been overlooked. Shenk looked his errant deckhand up and down. “If you’ve quite finished rutting your way through everything in britches, perhaps we could trouble you to do a little work? Help Ansbach get us under way.”

“Right, sorry Skipper, didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” Colouring slightly, Berta began to unship the hawser securing the bow to the dock, while Ansbach let go the stern lines in an equally desultory fashion. Busch glared from one to the other as if their hangovers were a personal insult.

“Look lively, the pair of you! Let’s try to get to Carroburg before we die of old age, shall we?”

“Yes, Herr Busch.” The two deckhands began to move a little more quickly, and within a few moments the strip of clear blue water between the wharf and the hull of the riverboat began to widen. Rudi watched the dock recede with wary eyes, trying to see anything out of the ordinary, refusing to relax until the Reikmaiden was at least a bowshot from the bank. Despite his trepidation, the mysterious assassin didn’t try to prevent them from leaving, apparently content to blend back into the life of the logging camp. He wasn’t sure that that was particularly reassuring, however. It meant that whoever he was, the Fog Walker was confident that another of his colleagues would be able to intercept the package that Shenk was carrying, further up the river. He said as much, and Shenk nodded.

“I know. But we should be in Carroburg tomorrow, and if we don’t put in anywhere along the bank tonight they won’t have another chance before we get there.”

“Unless they try boarding us again,” Rudi pointed out. Shenk shook his head.

“I doubt it. Their boat’s fast enough to catch us, no doubt about that, but after the bloody nose they got last time, they’ll think twice about trying it. I don’t think they’ve got enough people left anyway, we took out nearly all of them.” Rudi nodded.

“What happens when we get to Carroburg?” he asked. Shenk shrugged.

“We offload our cargo, take on whatever we can, and put out again before dark. Then we run through the night till we get to Altdorf.” He sighed. “I don’t like doing it, but after last night, there’s no telling how many more of them are waiting along the river.” He hesitated, as if wondering how much more to say, and then made a decision. Clearly he felt that Rudi had a right to know something of what was going on. “Besides, we’re supposed to meet our contact in Carroburg. With any luck he’ll take the damn thing off my hands there, and we won’t have to worry anymore.”

“Let’s hope so,” Rudi agreed.

In the event, the journey to Carroburg passed without further incident, although Rudi spent most of the day, and the following night, on the deck, his bow to hand, scanning the river for any sign of pursuit or ambush. Hanna joined him at the rail shortly after sun-up, and handed him a steaming mug of one of her herbal infusions. Rudi took the aromatic drink gratefully, and warmed his hands around it before sipping a cautious mouthful, aware of the need to keep his fingers flexible enough to draw a bowstring.

“At least we’ll be there a bit quicker than we expected,” she said. Rudi nodded, savouring the sensation of warmth that seemed to begin radiating outwards from his midriff as the drink began its work.

“Some time this morning, Shenk says.” As he spoke he found himself glancing forwards, looking for some sign of the city itself, although as yet the pale dawn glow showed nothing more than the endless forest, the few scattered settlements they passed still dark and apparently lifeless. There were no other boats to be seen on the water either, although several were still tied to the wharves on the bank. Running through the night was something most skippers would try to avoid if they could, if only because of the toll such a course would take on their crews.

Shenk had tried to minimise the strain, leaving only two hands on duty overnight, changing watches in the small hours and taking the tiller himself for most of the time. Watching him from his position by the rail, Rudi had had the distinct impression that the skipper had rather enjoyed the chance to take direct control of the sturdy little vessel. To everyone’s surprise, Pieter had insisted on taking his turn on deck, standing watch alongside the captain, although he was still too incapacitated to do much heavy work. At one point, when the sails had needed trimming, he’d had to ask Rudi to haul on the ropes under his direction.

“The others need all the rest they can get,” he pointed out, when Rudi had asked if he was up to the task. “They’ll need to stow cargo tomorrow.” He gestured idly with the arm that Hanna had strapped up in a sling, “and I can’t lift boxes with this thing on. So, I might as well make myself useful while I can.”

Yullis had relieved him some time in the small hours, taking the tiller from Shenk, while Busch took charge of the Reikmaiden for the rest of the night. Neither of them had felt much like conversation, and Rudi had dozed for a while, sure that he’d be woken in the event of another attack.

“Are you going ashore when we get there?” Hanna asked. Rudi shrugged. He hadn’t really considered the idea, although it did sound quite appealing now that Hanna suggested it.

“I might do,” he said. “Stretch my legs a bit. Find something to eat.” The Reikmaiden would be in dock for several hours while her crew offloaded the portion of her cargo bound for Carroburg, and Shenk tried to find something else to fill the gap in her hold with for the final leg of their journey up to Altdorf. Remaining on board, he strongly suspected, would only result in her passengers getting in the way. “How about you?”

“I think so,” Hanna said. “I could do with some exercise.” She glanced down at her dress, from which energetic laundering had failed to completely remove the staining acquired in Marienburg. “I might find something a little more respectable to wear. I’ll need to make a good impression on the colleges when we get to Altdorf.”

“I’ve been wondering about that,” Rudi said. “What are you going to do, exactly? You can’t just walk in off the streets and ask to be admitted, can you?” For the first time since her recovery, he saw her facade of easy confidence begin to crumble.

“I’m not sure,” she conceded at last, “but I still have my student’s accreditation from Baron Hendryk’s. I’m hoping that will be enough for one of them to take me seriously.”

“It’s worth a try,” Rudi said. “At least you can prove you were a licensed apprentice mage in Marienburg. That ought to count for something.”

“I hope so,” Hanna said. Then her mood lifted, with an obvious effort. “Still, we won’t be in Altdorf until tomorrow. There’s time to worry about that when we get there.” She held out a hand. “Finished with the mug?”

To his vague surprise, Rudi found that it was indeed empty, and that he felt more alert and energetic than he had any right to after such a long and relatively sleepless night. He nodded.

“Yes, thank you.” He handed it over, and watched her disappear into the galley, a troubled frown on his face. From what Shenk had said, Altdorf was full of witch hunters as well as licensed mages. If none of the colleges would offer her sanctuary, it was the most dangerous place in the whole Empire for Hanna to be heading for. Not that he would be particularly safe there either, having been condemned as a heretic, however unjustly.

Despite that thought, he felt a rising sense of excitement and anticipation that even his most pessimistic forebodings couldn’t quite suppress. The answers he so desperately wanted lay in Altdorf, and he was only a day away from the place where his quest would end. It was with an unexpectedly light heart that he resumed his position at the rail, alert for his first sight of Carroburg.

Rudi hadn’t been sure what he was expecting to see when the city finally came into view, but his initial reaction was one of complete astonishment. Marienburg had been a low-lying metropolis, built on the chain of islands at the mouth of the Reik, and with a few exceptions, like the colossal span of the Hoogbrug, most of the rooflines had been more or less even. Carroburg, however, loomed over the river like a man-made mountain, sprawling back up the hillside that rose from the steep banks of the Reik, until its upper streets and houses became lost in the low-lying mist that wreathed the summits of the valley.

“Quite a sight, eh?” Pieter asked at his elbow, and Rudi nodded, lost for words. “They say Middenheim makes it look like a pimple, but I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged. “Too far from the water, see?”

“I see.” Rudi nodded, taking in the scale of the place as the Reikmaiden forged through the water towards the docks, a bustling tangle of quays and wharves that, at least, seemed vaguely familiar. Dozens of other riverboats were visible, coming and going, or lying alongside, and innumerable smaller craft were scudding about on urgent business, or casting hopeful fishing nets into the choppy water. This at least was reminiscent of his sojourn in the maritime city, and he found the familiar bustle vaguely reassuring.

“The houses seem to get bigger towards the top,” Rudi said, and Pieter nodded.

“That’s right. The richer you are, the higher up the hill you live.” He laughed. “Riff-raff like us, we stick to the bottom. There’re plenty of taverns around the docks anyway, so why work up a sweat looking for a drink?”

“Sound advice,” Rudi said. He pointed to a cluster of ramshackle huts clinging to the shoreline, and spreading back into the woods. The stumps of trees and the harsh white of newly cut timber showed that the clearings around the city wall were recent. “Who lives there?”

“Refugees,” Pieter said. His voice took on a faintly pitying tone. “Pretty much everything north of Middenheim’s destroyed, they say, and what’s left of it’s crawling with Chaos scum. These are the lucky ones. They got out in time. Some of them talk about going home, but I can’t see it happening any time soon.” He shook his head mournfully, and wandered off to attend to whatever duties Busch had decided he was still able to cope with.

Rudi watched the city grow, as the sturdy little riverboat drew closer and closer to it, until the rising tangle of streets and buildings completely filled his vision. Individual structures began to be distinguishable: large ornate houses looking down on the teeming masses below, the unmistakable bulk of temples and the wealthier guild houses, and, closer at hand, the warehouses around the docks.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Hanna asked dryly at his shoulder. Rudi shrugged.

“They might have a decent tavern or two,” he conceded, determined to seem no less cosmopolitan than she did. After all, they were both experienced urbanites. Shenk ambled over to join them as Yullis and Berta manhandled the gangplank into place.

“Going ashore?” he asked casually, unable to keep a flicker of relief from his eyes as Rudi nodded in the affirmative.

“We’ve got some errands to run,” Rudi assured him. “We won’t be cluttering up the deck while you’re trying to move your cargo.”

“Glad to hear it,” Shenk said. “Try to get back here before we’re about to sail this time, eh?”

“We’ll do our best,” Hanna assured him and led the way down the gangplank.

Despite the bulk of the city looming above them like a thundercloud of stone, Rudi felt surprisingly at home in the cramped and narrow streets surrounding the harbour. In all but scale, it reminded him of the Suiddock back in Marienburg: the same air of purposeful activity, the ever-present carts and sweating labourers transferring barrels and bundles from boat holds to warehouses and back again, and through it all, the never-ending flow of local citizens pursuing their trades, honest or otherwise.

Surrounded by people again, he found his old watchman’s instincts surfacing, and amused himself picking out the local bawds and cutpurses from the throng. Once, he saw a halfling pickpocket making off with the contents of a well-dressed gentleman’s purse, and had to suppress the impulse to shout a challenge and give chase. Not his problem here, he reminded himself. The last thing he and Hanna needed to do was draw unnecessary attention to themselves.

The halfling wasn’t the only non-human he noticed as they made their way through the streets towards a local square that Pieter had assured him held enough clothier’s shops to satisfy Hanna’s most exacting requirements in a dress, and a couple of reasonable taverns besides, which Rudi would probably need after she’d completed her shopping. By the time they reached their destination, he’d seen a couple of dwarfs snoring loudly in a gutter outside a tavern while a third stood over them, swaying slightly, his negligently-hefted axe effectively deterring anyone from attempting to relieve them of their personal effects; a solitary elf; and almost a dozen halflings, who, for the most part, appeared to be vending foodstuffs of dubious palatability from small wheeled carts.

“Cosmopolitan, isn’t it?” Hanna remarked, although Rudi wasn’t sure how sarcastic she was being. He was saved from having to answer, as she stopped suddenly beside a market stall selling a wide variety of women’s clothing. “Ooh, this is nice. What do you think?” She held up a dress, which, to Rudi’s eye, looked little different to the one she had on, apart from a lack of accumulated grime.

“It’s your colour,” he hazarded, and Hanna laughed.

“Never mind.” She seemed to take his incomprehension for granted, and find it amusing. “I’ve already got two blue ones.” Her only change of clothing, still back in her bag aboard the Reikmaiden, was almost identical to the dress she wore now, although even more patched and stained. They were almost the only things she still possessed that she’d brought with her from Kohlstadt. Rudi suspected that it was the only reason she hadn’t discarded them.

“You’re in luck, missy. I’ve got one just like that in green.” The stallholder, a ruddy-faced man with an easy manner, held up the garment in question. Hanna looked at it dubiously. “Eighteen shillings to you, and cheap at half the price.”

“I don’t know.” Hanna made a show of considering it. “Green doesn’t really go with my eyes, and besides, it’s a spring colour. I want something warm for the winter.”

“Warm, you say?” The stallholder was clearly enjoying the game. “How about this?” He held up a red dress, trimmed with yellow. “Real Middenland wool, best in the Empire, and just the colour to warm the heart as well, eh laddie?” The last remark was directed at Rudi, who just nodded, unsure of how to respond. Hanna was holding the garment up in front of her, cocking a quizzical head at him, waiting for his response. Rudi nodded again, and swallowed the obstruction that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

“It, ah, suits you,” he said. “It really does.” The yellow trim set off her blonde hair almost perfectly, and brighter colour seemed to infuse her with life and energy. “But isn’t it a bit, you know, draughty?”

“Low necklines are the fashion, laddie.” The stallholder grinned. “Good thing too, I say.” He smiled at Hanna. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it, that’s what I say. Bring a bit of sunshine into the life of a sad old man like me.”

“I could always wear a shawl if it gets too cold,” Hanna said, smiling at Rudi’s discomfiture. Of course, she could always shield herself from the chill by magical means, although saying so out loud would be foolish in the extreme. “Eighteen shillings, you said?” The stallholder sighed regretfully, and shook his head.

“That was the plain one. This one’s a crown two and six.” Hanna hesitated. “Tell you what, we’ll forget the sixpence, seeing as it looks so good on you, and I’ll throw in a scarf to match.” He picked up a yellow headscarf, with a pattern of crimson thread worked into it. “That’s worth two shillings alone, if it’s worth a farthing.”

“It’s lovely,” Hanna said, running it between her fingers, the pattern in the fabric seeming to ripple like flames as she did so. She handed both garments back to the stallholder, who grinned happily as he began to fold them with expert precision, and took three coins from her purse. The stallholder frowned at the sight of the Marienburg guilder.

“Got any crowns? You never know with those foreign coins. If they haven’t been clipped like a ewe they’re probably counterfeit.”

“Sorry.” Hanna shook her head. “We’re straight off the boat from Marienburg. If you won’t take guilders…” She began to turn away, as if about to leave.

“No, hang about. I’ll risk it, seeing as you’ve got an honest face. Gold’s gold, wherever it comes from.” He sighed, and bit the coin suspiciously. “Seems all right, anyway.”

“Thank you.” Hanna smiled sweetly at the man, and accepted the package he held out.

“Well, that was easy.” Rudi watched while Hanna stowed the neat parcel in her shoulder bag, and started to look for a tavern. “What do you want to do now?” Hanna shook her head.

“I haven’t finished looking at clothes yet,” she explained, heading for the nearest shop. “I could still do with another dress. That way I’ll have something new to wash and one to wear, once we get to Altdorf. I can’t go around looking respectable one day and like this the next.”

Rudi sighed, not seeing anything wrong with the way she looked now, and started after her. Clearly, it was going to be a long day.

Hanna was still glancing back over her shoulder to talk to him, and his attention was still on her, so neither noticed that the door to the shop was opening as they approached it. A couple emerged, chatting amiably.

“I’m not saying you don’t look stunning in it,” the man said. “I’m just wondering when you think you’re ever going to get the chance to wear it.”

“I’ll make the chance,” the woman said, flicking her head back to talk to her companion. “It’s not as if we’re tramping around the wilderness all the time.” A flash of bright red hair accompanied the movement. Almost paralysed with astonishment, Rudi stopped dead in his tracks, and began reaching for his sword.

“Oops, sorry.” Before his horrified gaze, Hanna bumped into the couple, and began to turn towards them, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Don’t mention it,” Alwyn said. Then recognition sparked between everyone present. “Conrad, it’s them!”

Even before she’d finished speaking, the two mercenaries had drawn their swords and moved in to attack.