03 - Death's Legacy (20 page)

“This is the short gallery,” Mathilde explained. “It runs
along the edge of the wing.”

“Now that’s impressive,” Hanna conceded. Looking as if she’d
just won a hand of cards, Mathilde led the way through a pair of double doors at
the far end, which seemed, to Rudi’s astonished eyes to be scarcely smaller than
the gates they’d entered the estate by, and into a wide hall. Doors led off in
several directions, all panelled in a strange dark wood that he failed to
recognise, and the furniture and portraits seemed more functional and muted,
blending subtly into their background. This was clearly not a space in which
anyone was expected to linger. Their boots rang on polished marble, and the
temperature of the air dropped a little, sharp with the chill of the stone.

Without hesitating, Mathilde led the way up a wide, curving
staircase, the treads of which were covered with a rich blue carpet in which
stars and comets had been worked in yellow thread. Every fourth or fifth comet
had a second tail, although whether that was an attempt to invoke the blessing
of Sigmar on the household, or simply a matter of aesthetics, Rudi had no idea.

“You get used to it,” Mathilde said, her voice echoing from
the dome above the stairwell. Craning his head to look up the four-storey abyss,
Rudi felt a momentary twinge of vertigo. The concavity had been painted the
deep, dark blue of the midnight sky, and tiny pinpoints of light seemed to dance
up there, picking out the familiar outlines of the constellations.

“That’s right,” Fritz agreed, apparently as indifferent to
the splendour of their surroundings as his companion, but then he’d been in the
nobleman’s employ for some months, long enough to become inured to the signs of
wealth that left Rudi’s head reeling. Before he could think of a reply, Mathilde
led the way down a short corridor, paused at the threshold of a door,
indistinguishable to Rudi’s eye from any of the others, and knocked with a
degree of restraint that quite surprised him.

“Enter,” a voice called, in the same easy-going tone that
Rudi recalled from a single encounter in Marienburg, and he wasn’t particularly
surprised to see von Eckstein looking up from an exquisitely inlaid desk of
polished walnut wood as Mathilde pushed open the door. He set down the sheaf of
papers in his hand. “Ah, that was quick. Did you have any trouble?”

“No more than we expected,” Mathilde said, ushering Rudi and
Hanna into the room ahead of her, “but we must have had a leak somewhere in
Marienburg. The Fog Walkers made a play for the boat before Fritz even joined
it.”

“I take it from your relaxed attitude to the news that they
didn’t get what they were after,” von Eckstein said, rising to greet his
unexpected guests. “Rudi and Hanna, isn’t it?” He bowed to Hanna, the faint tilt
of his head precisely calculated to balance the good manners due to a lady with
the clear and vast gulf between their relative social positions. “I’m pleased to
see you recovered.” After a moment’s confusion, Rudi remembered that von
Eckstein’s last sight of the girl had been as he carried her unconscious form
back to the tavern they were staying in. The stress of the fight in the gambling
den where they’d met had triggered another magical seizure, as the power that
Gerhard’s talisman had dammed up in her had fought for instinctive release.

“Quite recovered, thank you.” Hanna answered mechanically,
her attention apparently directed elsewhere in the room, although Rudi’s
remained fixed on the nobleman whose privacy they’d so abruptly invaded. He
couldn’t imagine what had caught her interest so completely. One of the many
curios littering the warm and well-appointed chamber, he supposed. Either that,
or the shelves of books lining the walls. There were dozens of them; more titles
than he would have believed existed, although their spines were too far away for
him to read what they might contain.

“Good.” The graf raised a quizzical eyebrow in Fritz’s
direction. “I assume you have a good reason to be holding your reunion with your
friends in my study, rather than your own quarters?” Fritz nodded.

“Yes, sir. They were travelling on the
Reikmaiden.
If
it wasn’t for them, the Walkers would have snatched the packet. Twice.”

“So we thought you might want to talk to them,” Mathilde
added. “See if they know anything useful.”

“I see.” Von Eckstein nodded, and turned to a seat in the
corner. For the first time, Rudi became aware that he already had another guest
in his study, and a strange sense of foreboding washed over him. “If you’ll
excuse me, Magister Hollobach, this sounds as if I ought to give it some
attention.”

“By all means.” The man stood, in a single fluid movement,
and Rudi felt the hairs on his scalp begin to stir. His skin was pale, almost
translucent in the bright winter sunshine falling through the windows, and the
thin frosting of stubble on his shaved head wasn’t so much white as simply
devoid of colour. This, and the fact that his seat had been in the middle of a
shaft of sunlight falling into the room, had been enough to fool the eye, making
his clothing appear simply as an abstract shape draped over the chair. Only in
retrospect did it fill out into a well-cut robe of a purple so deep that it was
nearly black, nestled around a body almost skeletal in its thinness. The clasps
were a curious yellowish white, and carefully carved into the shape of an
hourglass leaning against a skull.

Despite the thrill of horror the thought sparked in him, Rudi
couldn’t quite shake the idea that they had been made from human bone. “Our
business was concluded in any case. My only reason for delaying was the pleasure
of your company.” He smiled, the pale visage acquiring an expression of
self-deprecatory good humour. “No doubt you’d far rather spend time with these
lively young people than a fusty old Amethyst magister reeking of grave dust.
I’m sure I would in your position.”

“Nonsense.” Von Eckstein shook his head, smiling affably.
“Where else am I going to find another chess player of your calibre?”

“One you can beat, you mean?” The cadaverous wizard nodded a
greeting to the newcomers, and started for the door. “I’ll be waiting for your
message with interest.”

“Wait.” To Rudi’s amazement, and, so far as he could tell
that of everyone else in the room, Hanna took a step forwards to impede his
progress. “I need to talk to you.”

“Are you sure?” the wizard asked, with an air of faint
surprise. “I can assure you, young lady, my order is most definitely not for
you.”

Ignoring the looks of astonishment on the faces of everyone
else in the room, he and Hanna continued their conversation as if no one else
was present.

Hanna dug a sheaf of parchment out of her satchel. Rudi
recognised the seal on it as that of Baron Hendryk’s College of Navigation and
Sea Magics, the great university in Marienburg that, Wastelanders at least
believed, rivalled the more famous centres of learning in Altdorf and Nuln.

“I was a student of magic in Marienburg,” Hanna said, waving
the papers in front of the wizard’s face, “and I’ve come all the way to Altdorf
to study at the Imperial Colleges.” For a moment, a flicker of desperation
appeared in her eyes. “Please, I need to find a refuge. I’ve already escaped the
witch hunters once, and I might not be so lucky next time.”

“Well, you’ve certainly made a courageous decision.” The
Amethyst mage nodded encouragingly. “A wise one, too, despite the risks you took
in coming here. The training you’d get in Marienburg would be flawed at best.
Little more use than hedge magic. Of course, the witch hunters wouldn’t
recognise a licence issued by anyone other than an Imperial College in any
case.” That meant that Kris wouldn’t be coming to Altdorf any time soon, Rudi
realised, and then felt ashamed at the brief flare of exultation that had
accompanied the thought.

“That’s why I need someone to help me,” Hanna said earnestly,
something of her old volatile nature threatening to break through. The pale-eyed
wizard watched her fight down the impulse to raise her voice with detached
interest. After a moment, Hanna unclenched her fists. “I need to find a college
that will take me, before the witch hunters track me down.”

“You do have a strand of death in your aura,” Hollobach said,
“but other winds blow far more strongly around you.” For a moment, Rudi thought
he detected an air of uncertainty in the mage’s voice, although his intonation
was so dry that it was hard to be sure. “My advice would be to seek out the
Bright College. If anyone can help you, it would be them.”

“Thank you.” Hanna said, her whole face radiating relief.
“Where can I find it?”

“On the eastern edge of the city, although if you’re really
suited, it might be truer to say that the college will find you.” The mage
stepped past her, and paused in the doorway, with a final nod at von Eckstein.
“Until later.”

“I’ll send word,” the nobleman promised. He looked
quizzically at Hanna, as if evaluating a new addition to his collection of art.
“So, you’re a hedge witch.”

“So they tell me,” Hanna said shortly.

“Just as well,” Fritz put in. “The Fog Walkers sent a shadow
mage after us, and she took him down without breaking sweat.”

“A shadow mage?” Von Eckstein shook his head. “I seriously
doubt that, the shadowmancers’ loyalty to the Emperor is unparalleled. One of
their homegrown dabblers from Baron Hendryk’s, with a few spells copied or
stolen from the Grey College, I would imagine.” He returned to his desk, and
gestured to the chairs scattered around the room. “I’d be very interested to
hear about it, though, and the other attacks you mentioned.” Rudi and Hanna
seated themselves, followed a moment later by Mathilde and Fritz. No one, Rudi
noted, seemed particularly keen to claim the chair so recently occupied by
Magister Hollobach. Von Eckstein lifted a small silver bell from beside his
inkstand, and rang it. “It sounds like a long story, so I think perhaps a little
refreshment before we begin.”

The afternoon was well advanced by the time that Rudi and
Hanna had finished a suitably abridged account of their journey up the Reik, and
Rudi was grateful for the food that von Eckstein had ordered before they began.
The meal itself had been simple enough, a platter of bread, cheese and fruit,
accompanied by a flagon of wine, which von Eckstein had discreetly avoided in
favour of the contents of a carafe already sitting inconspicuously on a side
table, but the flavours and textures had been of a quality that Rudi had never
before experienced.

Hanna had accepted the wine dubiously, waiting until Rudi had
taken a mouthful of his own before sipping cautiously at it. Having tried the
drink before, during his meal with Fritz in Marienburg, Rudi had felt no such
reservations. The vintage was a little fruitier than the bottle he’d shared with
the simpleton at the Gull and Trident, but just as refreshing, and it
complemented the food perfectly.

“It seems Fritz was right,” von Eckstein said at last. “We
were lucky you decided to leave Marienburg when you did.” Though he was
undoubtedly astute enough to have realised there was much they were leaving out
of their account, to Rudi’s relief the nobleman didn’t press the point,
preferring to concentrate his questioning on their encounters with the agents of
Marienburg. Instead, he looked at Hanna. “I hope you fare well enough at the
Bright College to feel that the rigours of the journey were worth enduring.”
Encouraged by his matter-of-fact acceptance of her gifts, the young sorceress
had been uncharacteristically forthcoming about her part in the events that had
brought them there, even though there was still much she’d glossed over.

“So do I,” Hanna said, trying to sound casual, but failing to
conceal her nervousness at the prospect. Before she could say more, they were
interrupted by a knock on the study door.

“Enter,” von Eckstein called. Rudi assumed at first that the
servant who stepped into the room was there to clear the dishes, but the man
ignored the scattered remains of the meal they’d shared, crossing the room to
address the nobleman instead, in hushed and urgent tones. Unlike the girl who
had brought the food to the study, he was dressed in full livery, the elaborate
heraldry embroidered on it clearly indicating that he was someone of consequence
among the household staff.

“There’s a carter downstairs with a box, my lord, insisting
that you be informed at once of his arrival. I told him you were busy, but he
claims that those were his express instructions from your personal
representative.” As he spoke the last words, he glanced at Fritz, his expression
studiously neutral. The nobleman nodded.

“They were. Thank you, Albrecht. If you would be so good,
relieve the fellow of his burden, and arrange for someone to bring it up here
right away?”

“At once, my lord.” Keeping whatever opinions he might have
about the matter to himself, Albrecht departed, with a faintly curious look at
Rudi and Hanna. No doubt he was used to his master’s covert activities on behalf
of the Empire, bringing all kinds of apparently incongruous people into his
inner sanctum, and knew better than to speculate or ask.

“Good.” Von Eckstein cleared some papers from the surface of
his desk, and waited impatiently until a couple of footmen had heaved a large
wooden box into the room and departed. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He gestured
to the roughly nailed crate, which seemed somehow vaguely familiar, although
Rudi couldn’t quite put his finger on where he might have seen it before.
“Fritz, if I could prevail on your strong right arm?”

“Right away, sir.” The muscular youth drew the knife from his
belt and levered for a moment at the raw planking. With a splintering of wood
and the squeaking of nails, the lid came free.

“Excellent.” Von Eckstein burrowed in the crate, displacing a
copious amount of straw, which he scattered across the immaculate Arabyan rug
without a moment’s thought for the mess it created. “Ah, here we are—quite
hideous.” He pulled out a heavy-lidded baking dish of crudely glazed
earthenware, the sort of thing that Rudi was accustomed to seeing in taverns. In
these refined surroundings it looked utterly misplaced. “This is the one?”