03 - Death's Legacy (25 page)

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.” Rudi 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.”