03 - Death's Legacy (27 page)

“The temple?” Rudi asked, trying to ignore a formless sense
of apprehension at the words.

“All the records we’ll need to consult are there,” said von
Karien. “They were removed from the estate when I handed everything over to the
Church, and deposited in the archives.”

“Of course,” Rudi said, through a sticky mass of porridge. He
cleared his throat. “So what did they do with the place, anyway?” He had only
the vaguest idea of what the ancestral estate had been like in any case,
imagining something like von Eckstein’s home, although perhaps a little more
rural. “Turn it into a temple?”

“In a manner of speaking,” von Karien said. He spooned up
another mouthful of porridge. “The house and grounds are a few miles outside the
city, near the hamlet of Hammerhof. It used to be called Karien, of course, but
none of the peasants liked living in a place tainted with the name of a heretic,
and petitioned the Church for a more pious-sounding alternative when they took
over as lords of the manor. You can hardly blame them for that.”

“No, I suppose not,” Rudi agreed. Von Karien dropped his
spoon back into his bowl, and pushed it away.

“Anyhow, the house became a seminary.” Clearly noticing the
expression of puzzlement on Rudi’s face, he elaborated a little. “Somewhere,
initiates learn to become priests. Close enough to the city for the temple to
keep an eye on them, far enough away for them to concentrate on their devotions
without getting distracted.”

“I see.” Rudi nodded, giving up on the rest of the porridge,
which was beginning to set hard inside his stomach by the feel of it. He stood,
suffused with a sudden rush of nervous energy. “Do you think the temple will be
open yet?”

“It’s always open,” von Karien said, with a trace of
amusement. He stood, in a rather more leisurely manner. “I suppose if you’ve had
enough to eat we might as well go.”

As they stepped out into the narrow street, Rudi was struck
once again by the incessant noise and stench of the city. Inside the house he’d
been insulated from the worst of it, but as von Karien slammed and locked the
heavy door behind them, sound and odour alike rolled over him like a wave. The
smell, at least, seemed a little more tolerable, even heady. As he inhaled it,
he felt slightly giddy, as if he’d drunk a little too much alcohol, the sickly
sweet stench of putrescence almost intoxicating. After a moment he rallied,
putting the moment of dizziness down to the excitement of finally learning the
truth about his identity. The noise was another matter entirely, a never-ending
cacophony of raised voices echoing in the narrow gaps between buildings.
Noticing his expression, von Karien smiled sardonically.

“You get used to it,” he said.

“If you say so,” Rudi replied, following the nobleman into
the maelstrom of hurrying bodies. At first he was worried about losing his host
in the ever-present throng, but von Karien’s black cloak and hat stood out
clearly among the crowd, and he was able to keep up with him easily. After a
while he noticed that the swarm of people, although as thick as ever, seemed a
little more permeable. Not only was he able to remain close to his companion, he
was being jostled noticeably less often than he had been the previous day.

Once he realised this, the reason became immediately
apparent. Everyone who noticed their approach did their best to get out of the
way, looking at them as they did so with barely disguised hostility, if they
bothered to try hiding their feelings at all. Some passers-by averted their
gaze, as if even to look at them would bring down disaster, while others stared,
almost mesmerised, like rabbits in front of a fox.

“There are some advantages to being a pariah,” von Karien
said, reading Rudi’s expression. “I get where I’m going without hindrance, and
no one’s tried to pick my pocket in months.”

“Glad to hear it.” Rudi dodged around one of the ubiquitous
halfling pie-sellers, alert to the dangers of an apparently random collision
after his encounter with Peasemold and Ned in the Koenigsplatz the previous day,
but this one appeared to be intent on nothing more nefarious than vending his
wares to an unsuspecting populace. “Is this really the best way to the temple?”
They’d only been walking for a handful of minutes, and already he was completely
disorientated.

“More or less,” said von Karien. “We need to see if Luther’s
at home first?”

“Of course,” Rudi said. The part of the city they’d entered
seemed a little more salubrious than the quarter where von Karien lived, but the
locals seemed just as eager to stay out of their way. He began to see a few more
non-humans among them, halflings for the most part, but dwarfs and elves too. He
even caught sight of the deceptively bloated-seeming bulk of an ogre mercenary,
wading through the crowds like a sailor breasting the waves, a light snack of
what looked like half a pig in his hand. “Are we somewhere near the docks?”

“Good guess,” von Karien confirmed. “Other side of the
Talabec, though. This is where most of the burghers who do business there live:
shipping agents, cargo brokers, second-rate lawyers, that kind of thing. Pretty
much everyone around here is either going up, or going down. Not many stay in
the neighbourhood for long.”

“What about your friend?” Rudi asked.

“He’s an exception,” von Karien said shortly, leading the way
onto a bridge, which was only distinguishable from the street leading up to it
by a short length of balustrade between two of the buildings lining its edges.
From the width and height of the piers, Rudi thought it must span the Reik
itself, a guess confirmed by a passing glance over the low wall as he passed it.
Shimmering water stretched away into the distance, crowded with boats of all
kinds, and for a moment he felt a twinge of nostalgia for Marienburg.

Momentarily distracted by the sight, he failed to realise
that von Karien had stopped outside the door of one of the houses on the
southern span. By the time he’d noticed, and retraced his steps to rejoin him,
the nobleman was already engrossed in conversation with a servant standing just
inside the threshold.

“Very well.” Von Karien sounded resigned, and not
particularly surprised. “Perhaps you could ask him to join us at the temple
archives as soon as he returns?”

“Of course, sir.” The servant nodded deferentially, although
Rudi couldn’t quite shake the feeling that such formal politeness was something
of a charade. The man was stocky and muscular, with a faint tracery of scars
across his face, and held himself like a fighter. His clothing was sober enough,
though, and he had a small silver comet of Sigmar on a chain around his neck,
similar to the one adorning the clasp of von Karien’s cloak.

Rudi had come across plenty like him during his career as a
watchman, and suspected that his true job was closer to bodyguard than domestic
servant. It made sense, he supposed, a scholar was likely to have valuable books
and artefacts in his home, and knowing that someone like this was taking care of
the premises in his absence would no doubt ease his mind a great deal. Becoming
aware of Rudi’s scrutiny, the man closed the door with a final disdainful glance
in his direction.

“We’re in luck,” von Karien said, turning away and beginning
to march southwards again. “I wasn’t sure he was back in Altdorf yet.” Rudi
lengthened his stride to catch up.

“Where’s he been?” he asked, more to make conversation than
because he cared particularly.

“Sigmar alone knows,” von Karien said dryly, echoing Rudi’s
words of the previous evening. “He comes and goes, whenever he hears about
something somewhere that takes his interest. I suppose that’s why he likes
living near the docks.”

Rudi was forming a clearer picture of the man they were going
to see. An itinerant scholar, willing to pursue his researches wherever they
led; no wonder he needed a bodyguard.

Their first sight of the temple of Sigmar was so sudden, and
so awe-inspiring, that Rudi stopped dead in his tracks, and simply stared. Only
after two passing stonemasons, an obstreperous dwarf, and an apologetic young
man in the robes of an initiate had bumped into him did he manage to start his
legs moving again. It was only by sticking close to von Karien, whose aura of
social exclusion seemed undiminished even this far from his home, was he able to
avoid further collisions. Despite its vast size, the narrow streets and looming
buildings had hidden the temple from view until they were almost on top of it.

The main building seemed to soar upwards ahead of them as if
about to take flight, its stonework spotted with bird droppings, but still
managing to look as if it was somehow ethereal, great buttresses taking the
enormous weight of its bulk with unobtrusive elegance. Noticing his young
companion’s awe-struck expression, von Karien smiled with more warmth than Rudi
had seen him display at any time since their initial meeting.

“They say the dwarfs had a hand in its construction. Looking
at it, I can well believe it.”

“So can I,” Rudi said. It hardly seemed possible that human
hands could have crafted stone so cunningly. The Imperial Palace, which stood
facing the temple on the other side of the huge square dividing the two
principal buildings of the capital, looked lumpy and ill-formed by comparison,
although it was sumptuous enough by any reasonable standard, making the
splendours of the staadholder’s palace in Marienburg fade into insignificance.

“This way.” Von Karien led Rudi towards the temple, nodding
in homage to the vast statue of Sigmar over the main doors, which stood open to
admit a steady stream of visitors. Not until he noticed them was Rudi able to
appreciate the truly titanic scale of the structure itself. The scurrying humans
were reduced to the apparent size of halflings by the mighty portal, which
loomed at least four times their height, and the statues of warriors flanking
the doors glowered down at them like disapproving parents.

As they moved closer to the great slabs of finely carved
wood, Rudi felt that he was about to be swallowed by some vast stone leviathan,
and fought down a rising sense of irrational panic. His heartbeat thundered in
his ears, and his footsteps stumbled.

“Are you all right?” von Karien asked, an expression of mild
puzzlement on his face. Rudi nodded.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I just felt a bit dizzy, trying to take
it all in.” The same thing had happened outside the cathedral of Verena in
Marienburg, he remembered. He should have learned his lesson, and tried to
absorb the atmosphere of this building a little more cautiously. He took a deep
breath, finding the ever-present stench of the streets curiously bracing. It was
surprising what you could get used to, he supposed.

“I see.” Von Karien nodded, and started walking again,
angling slightly away from the imposing wooden doors carved with the twin-tailed
comet of the Empire’s patron god. Feeling more or less recovered, Rudi trotted
after him.

“Aren’t we going inside?” he asked, trying to mask the flood
of relief that he felt at the words. In the distance, the right-hand crossbar of
the T-shaped building, which supposedly reproduced the exact proportions of
Ghal-Maraz, the legendary dwarf warhammer of Sigmar, began to grow a little
clearer, and he became aware that the temple itself was surrounded by a cluster
of smaller structures which he’d barely noticed, since his eye was naturally
drawn to the stone behemoth that dominated the skyline.

Von Karien turned to look back at him. “We’re here to consult
the records, not burn a bit of incense.” His expression softened. “If you want
to say a few prayers once we’ve concluded our business, I certainly wouldn’t
object. There’s no finer place to do it in the whole of the Empire. Just being
inside it is balm to the soul.”

“Let’s hope we have the time,” said Rudi, trying to ignore
the fresh spurt of panic that sparked somewhere in the back of his mind at the
prospect. He forced it down angrily. The key to his identity, final confirmation
or denial that he truly was the missing von Karien heir, was within his grasp at
last. This was no time to be getting the jitters.

“This way.” Von Karien led the way between two of the
buildings on the fringes of the complex surrounding the temple, and once again
Rudi was lost in a labyrinth of stone. Here, though, the clamour of the streets
was absent, the purposeful figures hurrying or loitering about their business
moving quietly or conversing in hushed tones. Many of them wore the robes of
priests or initiates, the hammer of Sigmar around their necks, although to his
surprise he saw a few green-robed acolytes of Taal and Rhya as well, and once
caught a glimpse of a white-robed priestess of Shallya, talking earnestly to a
couple of Sigmarites.

“The Empire needs all its gods,” von Karien reminded him when
he remarked on the fact. “We do well to remember that, and discuss the matters
we all have in common.”

“I suppose so,” Rudi said. A couple of armed guards had been
on duty at the gate they’d entered the warren of buildings by, and both had
nodded affably at von Karien as he’d walked through. Now, another black-clad
templar inclined his head as he hurried past on some errand of his own.

“Osric, you’re looking well.”

“Well enough.” Von Karien returned the greeting cordially.

“You know him?” Rudi asked, surprised. It seemed that his
companion was well thought of in some quarters, after all.

“I should do, he saved my life once.” Von Karien shrugged.
“Mind you, I’ve returned the favour, so I suppose we’re even.” He led the way
through a wrought iron gate into a small courtyard, where more of the soberly
dressed guards were practising with swords and pole arms. “If we cut through
here we’ll save a bit of time. The storerooms of the library are a bit out of
the way.”

“Where are we?” Rudi asked, confused. Wherever it was, it
seemed more like the watch barracks he’d lived at in Marienburg than anything to
do with a temple.