CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

By noon the last traces of Kohlstadt were well out of sight, and the fugitives settled in the shade of a grove of trees to escape the heat of the sun. For want of any better idea they’d followed the stream, so at least they’d have water to drink, but their supply of food was still far from adequate. Rudi had spread out what food he’d brought on his spare shirt the first time they stopped and been appalled at how little there was: a chunk of bread, too hard to chew without being moistened with stream water first, some cheese, which was beginning to smell a little too strong for comfort in the summer heat, some dried meat, and a couple of apples. Barely a meal for one.

Hanna had sniffed suspiciously at the dried rabbit flesh to begin with, but eventually hunger overcame her reluctance and she chewed at it with an air of grim determination.

“Where are we going?” she asked at length. Rudi shrugged. He’d never been this far from the village in his life, and he didn’t have a clue what lay ahead of them.

“Marienburg,” he said at last, the name of the city falling into his head as if from nowhere. Hanna stared at him as though he’d gone mad.

“How on earth do you expect to survive in Marienburg? It’s full of thieves and cut-throats, everyone knows that!” Everyone in Kohlstadt believed that anyway, and perhaps they were right, but Rudi seized on the idea like a terrier with a rat.

“They can’t be any worse than Gerhard,” he pointed out. “And there are hundreds of people there, maybe even a thousand.” For a lad whose idea of a bustling metropolis was Kohlstadt, even this woefully inadequate estimate sounded unimaginably huge. “We could hide there for weeks. Years even.”

“Assuming we’d want to.” Hanna wasn’t about to concede the point without considering it carefully. “City people never wash, you know. The smell must be appalling.”

“We’d get used to it.” Rudi thought for a moment. “Maybe we could pick some flowers on the way in, to mask it a bit.”

“I suppose so.” Hanna regarded the cheese dubiously, then selected another piece of dried rabbit as the lesser of two evils. Feeling he’d won the debate, Rudi nodded sagely. Magnus had a house in Marienburg, he remembered. Maybe he had gone there after fleeing from the beastmen in the forest. If so, he might be able to help them and answer some of the questions which had tormented him since his father had uttered those last enigmatic words. Hanna chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “So where is Marienburg anyway?”

The question hit him like a face full of cold porridge. Somewhere to the east of Kohlstadt he supposed, as that was the direction the carts and pack mules of the merchants came from, but beyond that he didn’t have the faintest idea. Despite the growling in his stomach he rewrapped the remaining food, wondering how long it would last, and took a deep draught of the stream water to help fill him up a little. Water, at least, was limitless.

“We just have to keep following the stream,” he said, the realisation coming to him on wings of welcome relief. “It must flow into the Reik eventually.” Hanna nodded.

“Then we can follow the river downstream,” she agreed. “Maybe even hail a boat. There must be trading vessels going up and down all the time.”

Hail the vessel. The words came back to him unbidden, and he shivered. Was that what Magnus had meant? Find a boat to take him to Marienburg? He nodded, to cover his confusion.

“It’s a plan, anyway,” he said.

With nothing more to detain them they set out again, deeper into the wilderness. The constant chuckling of the water beside them was a pleasing note of comfort. The land was sparse here, the clumps of trees few and far between, and the sun felt hot and oppressive. Rudi felt exposed and uneasy, used as he was to the dim shade of the forest.

The grass had grown to shin height, as there was no cattle to keep it down. This made walking awkward, as it hid the small undulations in the ground so the pair stumbled every few steps. After a while Hanna stopped to hitch up her skirt and tuck the hem into her belt, exposing surprisingly thin calves. Rudi kept his eyes fixed on the surrounding landscape, not quite sure if it was polite to have noticed or not.

“We’ll need to find somewhere to sleep soon,” Hanna said, as the sun began sinking, lengthening their shadows before them. Rudi nodded, exhaustion fogging the inside of his head. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and he doubted that Hanna had either. So far they’d kept going on the energy of fear, but that would leave them soon enough. He suspected that without rest and adequate food he would collapse before very long.

“You’re right.” He narrowed his eyes, and held up a hand to shade them. A grove of trees larger than the rest was visible some way ahead, and the stream disappeared into it. “We’ll just go as far as that copse over there. Then we can make camp.”

“With what, exactly?” Hanna asked acidly, her eyes flickering between their two tiny packs. Rudi shrugged.

“With whatever we’ve got,” he replied, determined not to let fatigue and emotion drive a wedge between them. They might not have got on too well in the past, but that was changing, and they needed each other now. Hanna snorted, but said nothing more. She strode out determinedly, taking the lead.

They reached the patch of woodland as dusk was beginning to fall. Rudi was pleased to note that it was more extensive than he’d realised. As they made their way between the sheltering tree trunks he felt his spirits lift a little, and he took comfort from the familiarity of the environment.

“This’ll do,” he said, breaking through into a small clearing. Hanna looked about her with undisguised horror.

“Here?” She stared at the ground. “Where will we sleep?”

“Over there,” Rudi pointed. “That patch of moss. It’s springy. Surprisingly comfortable.” Hanna peered through the gloom, clearly unconvinced.

“It’s cold, too. I don’t suppose you picked up any blankets, did you?”

“No.” He couldn’t believe he’d left them behind. His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Had other things on your mind. I know.” Hanna dropped her satchel and collapsed on the patch of moss. “I didn’t think of it either,” she sniffed, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “How did this happen to us? It’s not fair!”

“I know.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “But we’ll get through this, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Hanna looked up at him, her face a pale blur in the darkness. Her eyes were deep pits of shadow, and for some reason Rudi found himself shuddering. “But you’re right. We’ll survive and grow strong. We’ve got something to live for.”

“We do?” Rudi had meant to sound affirming and supportive, but a treacherous tone of confusion had entered his voice. Hanna nodded.

“Gerhard,” she said flatly.

“I never want to see him again,” Rudi replied. He had no doubt that the witch hunter would be an implacable enemy, but the Empire was a big place, and if they just kept moving they should be able to stay ahead of him. If they made it to Marienburg they might even take a ship to another land entirely.

“I do,” Hanna said. Her voice took on a quality Rudi had never heard before. “I don’t care how long it takes, but one day, when I’m ready, I’m going to find him and kill him for what he did to my mother.”

Rudi didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Hanna lapsed into silence too. After a long pause, during which the light faded even further, he cleared his throat.

“I’ve seen some rabbit droppings. I’m going to set a few snares before the light goes.” Hanna didn’t respond. He persisted. “If you could find some firewood that would be good.” She didn’t move or speak, so after a moment he added, “Fine then. I won’t be long,” and left the clearing.

In truth he was longer than he expected. Finding the game paths in the unfamiliar woodland took a little longer than he was used to, and his fingers, usually so dextrous, fumbled with the snares. Hardly surprising, he supposed, under the circumstances.

It was with a profound sense of relief that he returned to the clearing to find a fire crackling cheerfully in a circle of stones. Hanna was toasting the remaining bread on the point of a stick. She smiled wanly at him when he reappeared, and crouched down beside the flickering flames.

“You’ve been busy,” he said. She nodded.

“Better than brooding, don’t you think?” The hunk of bread was turning crisp now, filling the clearing with an appetising aroma. She spiked the cheese onto the stick too, and it began to bubble and melt. He nodded, his mouth flooding with saliva. “We need to split this up.”

“No problem.” Rudi reached into his pack for the knife, pushing aside his tinderbox and the unused snares to reach it. “That smells good.”

“Better make the most of it.” She divided the food as evenly as she could, and handed the weapon back to him. “There’s just dried meat and apples left now.”

The heat had softened the bread, and warmed it beneath the toasted crust, and the cheese, though strong, tasted better that way too. Even the faint taste of woodsmoke made it more appetising. Rudi supposed pretty much anything would have tasted good that night, given how empty his stomach was. The morsels disappeared in a couple of bites, taking the edge off his hunger, reducing it to a dull, nagging discomfort. After some consideration he cut one of the apples in half, and shared it with Hanna. They even devoured the core and the pips.

By this time night had fallen completely, and the clearing was in darkness. The light from the fire enclosed them in a little bubble of warm illumination. By unspoken agreement they moved closer together until their shoulders touched, to conserve their body heat. As the warmth of the food and the cosy pressure of Hanna’s arm against him began to mingle with the drowsiness that comes from complete exhaustion, Rudi felt a sense of unexpected well-being suffuse his body. Abruptly Hanna yawned, and a moment later his own jaw gaped in response.

“We need to sleep,” she said.

“You’re right.” Rudi banked up the fire to a roaring blaze, which pushed the circle of firelight out to the limits of the clearing. He looked at the remaining stock of brushwood Hanna had collected. “Do you think this will last until the morning?”

“Easily,” she replied, rolling over onto the pad of moss, and pillowing her head on her satchel. Rudi wasn’t so sure, but the thought of going to look for more seemed an insuperable effort. He lay down beside her, their backs touching. He had made sure his bow was next to his hand, with an arrow already nocked.

The night was long and uneasy. Unused to sleeping out of doors Hanna stirred fretfully at every sound, which would jolt Rudi awake. Then she would lapse into another light doze. Because he could identify most of the rustlings and scurryings Rudi felt no sense of threat, but the makeshift mattress grew more uncomfortable as the night wore on, so he tossed and turned uneasily for a while before drifting back into slumber. On each occasion he opened his eyes to make sure the fire was still burning, then he tried to settle again.

Once he woke at the sound of something unfamiliar; he was unable to place it. Hanna, surprisingly, was still asleep. After straining his ears to pick up the elusive sound over her snoring, he gave up. As he rested his head back on his arm it came again, a faint ululation in the distance. His skin prickled. Wolves. But they were a long way away, and surely no threat. Nevertheless he rose, and added more fuel to the fire, before he dared settle again.

They woke at dawn, stiff, and more tired if anything than they were before they slept. Rudi staggered to the stream and dunked his head in the cold water. The shock of it jerked him back to full consciousness.

“Did you sleep well?” Hanna yawned, her eyes puffy with fatigue. She sat up.

“I’ve had better nights,” he admitted. She got to her feet, and began walking towards the edge of the clearing. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” she responded tartly, disappearing behind a large bush.

“Oh. Right.” Come to think of it, that seemed like a pretty good idea. He was just glancing round for a bush of his own when he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Slowly he turned, bringing whatever it was to the middle of his field of vision.

His blood turned the temperature of the stream water. Padding through the bushes was the largest wolf he’d ever seen. Come to that it was the only one he’d seen that wasn’t already dead. Feeling his eyes on it, the wolf raised its head, pulling back its lips to reveal sharp white teeth. A low growl rumbled in its chest.

“Hanna!” His voice strangled in his throat. “Whatever you do, don’t move!”

“What?” she called, and the wolf’s head turned, its nostrils flaring. Rudi began to inch back towards the patch of moss, and the bow he’d left there. The animal turned back towards him, and he froze. Their eyes locked.

“What did you say?” Hanna called again, a tone of impatience entering her voice. She began to emerge from the undergrowth. The wolf’s head snapped round again, and it began to move forward.

“For the love of Sigmar!” Rudi began to run, hoping to distract it, but the wolf had made up its mind and began loping towards Hanna. She ducked, picking up a stone, and threw it. The makeshift missile flew wide, but the brief distraction it afforded was all Rudi needed to pick up the bow. He drew it in a single fluid motion and let fly in the general direction of the charging predator. With no time to even consider aiming, and a moving target to shoot at to boot, he didn’t expect to come close to it, but hoped vaguely that it might be intimidated into abandoning its attack.

To his astonishment the wolf yelped and pitched forward, tumbling like an inelegant furry acrobat to land close to Hanna’s feet. She gazed at the spasming animal with horror, relief, and revulsion. His arrow had transfixed its neck and punched through the major artery. A bright spray of blood dappled the green leaves of the bushes and trees.

“Thank you.” She hurried away from it, her face white with shock. “I had no idea you could shoot like that.”

“Neither did I.” He nocked another shaft and advanced cautiously. So that’s what Gunther had tried so hard to teach him. The shot had seemed so fluid and natural, in total contrast to the ones he’d taken when he concentrated. The wolf was barely breathing now, its lifeblood all but drained, so he returned the second arrow to its quiver.

“What are you going to do?” Hanna asked, as he put the weapon down and took his knife out of his pack.

“I’m going to skin it.” The animal had stopped moving altogether now and its eyes had become filmy. As he watched a final breath ripped from its body, and after one final shudder it was still. “There’s a bounty on wolf pelts, remember?”

“And you’re going to march up to a magistrate and say, ‘I’m a fugitive wanted for heresy. By the way here’s a wolf pelt can I have my five coppers please?’” Despite her tone she had a point, he supposed. He shrugged.

“Maybe we can trade it for something.”

“Maybe,” Hanna conceded. Her tone became a little more conciliatory. “Sorry, I’m always a bit cranky before breakfast. Even more so when an overgrown hearthrug tries to bite my face off.”

“That’s all right,” Rudi replied, approaching the corpse. Something caught his eye, and he motioned the girl forward. “What do you make of this?”

“I don’t know.” She craned her neck to look, without getting any closer than she needed to. “It looks like something’s been tied to it.”

“That’s what I thought.” Rudi turned the creature over, finding it larger and heavier than he’d expected. It was almost as long as he was tall, so he had to exert all of his strength to move it. Something had been tied to the wolfs back with stout cords, a long thin tubular package. “It looks like a bedroll…” He cut the cords, and unrolled a couple of blankets of no discernable colour which smelled rank and sour.

“That’s ridiculous.” Hanna stared at them incredulously. “Who on earth would tie a bedroll to a wolf?”

“Its rider,” Rudi said, vividly remembering some of Littman’s tavern tales. “A goblin.”