03 - Death's Legacy (12 page)

His nascent suspicions flared up in earnest as a burst of
raucous laughter echoed across the empty space, and the mysterious figure shrank
back deeper into the shadows, as if fearful of discovery. Berta stumbled across
the gap between two buildings, an arm each around the shoulders of a pair of
lumberjacks, all three of them clearly in high spirits. A moment later, they
disappeared, and the banging of a door cut off the second verse of a song about
a goblin and a goat, which Rudi remembered being a perennial favourite among the
drunk and disorderly cases he’d swept off the streets of Marienburg on a more or
less nightly basis.

“Can you see that?” he asked, aware suddenly that Ansbach had
just joined him. The deckhand shook his head, and tottered another pace
forwards, unbalanced for a moment by the violent movement.

“See what?” he asked, and then his face cleared. “Oh, you
mean the skipper?” Shenk was walking down the middle of the thoroughfare leading
back towards the wharf, with the air of a man whose business had just been
satisfactorily concluded, and who was looking forward to reaching his bunk. The
shadow moved again, the glitter of moonlight striking out from it once more, and
Rudi had no doubt at all that what he was seeing was the reflection of an
unsheathed blade.

“Shenk! Look out!” He began to run, his sword hissing from
its scabbard as he did so. Ansbach stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, his
expression one of stupefied bafflement. Then he stumbled in Rudi’s wake, a good
dozen paces behind the young forester, the gap widening with every misplaced
step. He drew his knife from his belt regardless, flourishing it with drunken
bravado, and a complete lack of comprehension.

“I’m right behind you!” he bellowed. “Anyone messes with you,
they mess with me!” Rudi was by no means sure that this was reassuring, but it
seemed to give the lurker in the shadows pause. A hooded head snapped round in
the direction of the commotion, rapidly assessed the relative positions of Rudi,
Ansbach, and his intended target, and made a swift decision predicated entirely
on self-preservation. There was a sudden blur of motion, and the shard of
moonlight left his hand, hurtling straight for Rudi’s chest.

As it had on so many previous occasions, time seemed to slow
and stretch. Instinctively, without thinking, Rudi snapped his blade up into a
guard position, parrying as if against a sword thrust, and the flung dagger
rebounded into the darkness with a clang of clashing steel. He had what felt
like several minutes to watch it spin away, shining like a silver comet, and to
take in the assassin’s panic-stricken reaction to the failure of his attack. He
wondered if a second knife was about to follow the first, but the anonymous
figure simply turned and ran.

“Oh no you don’t!” Shenk tackled his would-be assailant with
vigour and a degree of resolution that would have surprised Rudi before today,
but the assassin was far more skilled in brawling than the riverboat captain.
The black-clad figure slipped out of the boatman’s grip easily, with a vicious
backhanded strike to the face. Shenk went down, and the assassin turned, clearly
intent on finishing him. Rudi was just within sword’s reach of the man, and
aimed a cut at his head, as intent on distracting him as on inflicting any
actual damage, ripping through the cloth of the hood. It parted, revealing a
glimpse of a nondescript face, indistinguishable at first sight from any of the
lumberjacks inhabiting the settlement. Nevertheless, its owner turned away,
continuing to conceal his identity as best he could.

“Hang on, skipper! We’re coming!” Ansbach roared, and the
assassin hesitated again. With what sounded to Rudi like a sigh of irritation,
the man suddenly turned and bent over, lashing out with a booted foot, which
connected solidly with the side of the young forester’s head. Rudi staggered
back, dazed and surprised by the unconventional attack. By the time he’d
recovered, a second or two later, the black-clad figure was fleeing for the
nearest patch of concealing shadow.

“That’s right, run!” Ansbach bellowed, flushed with victory.
Shenk staggered slowly to his feet, the blood streaming from his nose appearing
black in the silvery moonlight.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Rudi nodded.

“Fine. I just wasn’t expecting Bretonnian foot-boxing
tricks.” Shenk raised an eyebrow, and pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the
bleeding. “I rousted a few cheese-breaths in the watch,” Rudi explained. “First
time I came across one who knew
savartay,
he nearly took my head off. How
are you feeling?”

“I’ll live.” The captain watched curiously as Rudi stared at
the ground. “What are you looking for?”

Rudi sighed in frustration. “Tracks, but it’s hopeless.” He’d
been hoping the assassin had left enough traces to follow, but the
frost-hardened ground was too solid to dent with fresh footprints, and the thin
film of glistening rime had been disturbed by pretty much everybody in the
settlement. After a few yards the scuffmarks in the glowing white surface
vanished, swallowed by the maelstrom of footprints left by the bed-bound
revellers from the Floating Log. “What are you going to do now?” Shenk shrugged.

“Talk to Hanna, for a start,” he said, “and think very hard
about asking for a bonus when we get to Altdorf.”

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.