by Warhammer
But as Felix waited for the Slayer to speak, he saw him slide his one eye towards Snorri, and suddenly he knew the answer.
‘We go,’ Felix said, turning back to Max, ‘to Karak Kadrin, to accompany Snorri Nosebiter on his pilgrimage to the Shrine of Grimnir.’
THE FUNERAL OF GOTREK GURNISSON
Richard Salter
Thunder rumbled in the overcast sky and the rain came down in sheets. It was as gloomy as dusk, yet the day had not reached noon. Felix Jaeger stood silently in the graveyard, his hair matted and his clothes drenched. The downpour bothered him not at all.
A priest approached and cleared his throat.
Felix looked up. ‘Thank you for doing this at such short notice.’
The priest bowed his head.
‘I am happy to help. I have never… officiated the funeral of a Slayer before. However… it was my understanding that a customary send off for one such as he would involve more of a…’
‘Celebration?’
‘Indeed, yes.’
‘He did not die a hero’s death,’ Felix explained. ‘Anything more would not be appropriate.’
‘Very well.’
Six pallbearers carried the coffin towards the open grave. They stopped close by and placed the casket on iron stands. At such short notice, Felix had only been able to procure a human-sized casket and a cheap one at that. Its occupant would be mortified if he could see this dreary scene.
The priest began the incantation while Felix stood impassive. His eyes were downcast, water dripping from the end of his nose. Rain collected in the brim of his hat, occasionally overflowing like torrents of tears.
He had told nobody about the funeral. While word had a habit of getting out, it was unlikely anyone would reach here in time. There were many who would want to attend, either to mourn Gotrek’s passing, or to dance on his grave.
Felix was aware of a figure standing beside him, someone who didn’t fit into either category.
The tavern was packed with revellers when Gotrek and Felix dragged themselves inside. Neither of them felt like joining in the fun. They sat down at the only free table, in the corner, awash with spilled beer and other detritus. They ordered food and ale, and then fell into a silent funk. Felix watched everyone else having a good time with weary resentment.
‘It feels like my feet have pounded every cobblestone in Kutenholz,’ Felix said in an attempt to break the silence between them. He had to speak up to be heard over the background din.
Gotrek merely grunted. Thankfully their food, a tough, unidentifiable meat with day-old bread, arrived so they had an excuse not to talk. If Felix weren’t so hungry he would already be in his room, collapsed on his bed with exhaustion. He suspected that the Slayer, despite his formidable stamina, felt much the same.
As soon as they were done eating, Gotrek drained his tankard, bid Felix a gruff goodnight and shuffled over to the stairs. Felix waited until the Slayer had disappeared from view and then stood up. He wanted to ask everyone here if they had seen anything strange these past few weeks, but he was too bone-tired. Their search for the cursed liche Pragarti had led them to this town, but then the trail had gone cold. It was frustrating to say the least. Perhaps tomorrow he and Gotrek should lay low and let trouble come to them. If history was any indicator, they shouldn’t have to wait long.
For now, to bed.
Felix dragged himself up the stairs. Each step took more effort than the one before. Once at the top he stumbled to his door and struggled to get the key in the lock. He felt so disconnected, he was sure he must have been drugged. But no, the fog in his head was only due to fatigue. He locked the door behind him and fell onto his bed, not even bothering to undress. Sleep took hold almost immediately.
Felix awoke suddenly. He sat upright and listened. Had he dreamt the noise? Despite the gloom he saw nothing out of place. He was just about to lie down when another crash jolted him fully awake.
Felix jumped out of bed and grabbed his sword. The disturbance came from the next room. Gotrek!
He burst into the corridor and tried to open Gotrek’s door, but it was still locked. Now he could hear shouting: Gotrek’s gruff voice telling someone to stand still.
Felix assessed the door as best he could in the semi-darkness. The wood nearest the top hinge seemed fairly rotten as he probed it with a finger. He was about to kick the door in when he remembered he had no boots on. A broken foot wasn’t going to help anybody.
Luckily, the innkeeper had been awoken by the noise. He shuffled his ample frame along the corridor, complaining the whole time.
‘What is going on in there?’ he demanded of Felix.
‘Open the door and we’ll find out.’
The landlord sifted through a huge brass ring holding enough keys to keep all of Nuln’s gaols secure.
After what seemed an age he unlocked the door. Felix burst in. The window to Gotrek’s small room was open and the furniture was smashed and tipped over. In the centre of the room, a black-clad assassin was struggling mightily to free his ankle from Gotrek’s grip. The Slayer’s eyes were closed and he didn’t appear to be conscious.
‘Sigmar’s beard!’ the assassin cried. ‘Why won’t you just die?’
Kicking hard, the killer managed to wrest his leg free.
Felix leapt over a toppled wardrobe and threw himself at the assassin, tackling him to the floor. The killer kicked and punched with painful accuracy but Felix clung on. Finally he managed to pin him down.
‘Who sent you?’ Felix growled.
‘Like I’d tell you that,’ the assassin spat. Felix grabbed his sword and pushed the blade against the man’s throat.
‘I’m guessing you didn’t intend this to be a suicide mission, so I’ll ask again. Who sent you?’
‘I wasn’t told a name. My employer just said you would meet at the dwarf’s funeral.’ The assassin stared past Felix and cried, ‘He’s on his feet again!’
Felix knew he’d been fooled as soon as he turned his head. Gotrek was still comatose. Too slow, he turned back as the assassin twisted and punched, connecting with Felix’s jaw, sending him sprawling.
The man disappeared through the window before Felix could even get up.
With enormous difficulty, Felix dragged the prone body of Gotrek down the stairs. He cringed every time the dwarf’s head bounced off each wooden step. His aching back and weary arms begged him to stop. Finally he reached the bottom. At this hour the tavern was empty and the chairs were stacked on the tables. The landlord had already stomped off to bed, ordering Felix to vacate the premises immediately.
Breathing hard, unable to believe just how heavy one dwarf could be, he dragged his companion across the wooden floor as fast as he could manage. It took him precious seconds to unbolt the door, his hands shaking from the exertion.
At last he was out on the street. He felt drizzle on his face, the slight sting of water helping to cool his overheated skin. The street was empty save for a couple of drunks engaged in a fight on the corner. Felix headed in the other direction, dragging Gotrek two doors down from the inn.
He banged on the door in front of him, then banged harder when there was no response. After a few agonising moments he heard someone inside. A small hatch in the door slid open to reveal a suspicious pair of eyes.
‘What are you doing waking me at this hour?’
‘Please, it’s an emergency.’
‘It had better be!’
‘My friend,’ said Felix, unsure if the apothecary could see the prone body lying in a puddle at the foot of the door. ‘He’s been poisoned. I need you to save him!’
The eyes shifted up, down, left and right, looking for robbers ready to pounce. Warily, their owner opened the door and peered out into the rain. Then he stood back, waiting impatiently while Felix struggled to bring the Slayer inside.
‘You could help!’ Felix said.
‘I am helping. If you would rather go elsewhere, that’s fine by me.’
Feli
x held his tongue.
The apothecary examined the prone Slayer. ‘Hmm,’ he said as he peered into Gotrek’s eyes and checked his throat and neck. He felt for a pulse, a look of amazement on his face. ‘Quite remarkable,’ he said.
‘What is it? Is he going to be all right?’
The apothecary chuckled. ‘My dear fellow, it’s a wonder he isn’t dead already! I see the point of entry here on the arm, likely a poison dart.’
That explained how the assassin had been able to poison Gotrek. The Slayer was legendary for his ability to hear an attacker coming, even in his sleep. After being hit with the dart, Gotrek must have made it to the window, dragged the assassin inside before he could escape, then beat him up while trying to stay consciousness.
‘Can you save him?’
‘Yes, but it won’t be easy.’ The apothecary hurried to the back of his shop and pulled down various jars from a high shelf. ‘Your friend has been poisoned with ragethar, a poison so potent that one drop could kill an ogre. Lucky for you, I have an antidote.’ He peered through crescent-moon spectacles at another label. Felix willed him to hurry up. ‘Ah ha! Here it is, yes.’
He shuffled back to the prone dwarf. Felix noticed he was carrying two jars.
‘The poison needs two antidotes?’ he asked.
‘Hmm? Oh, no no. One of these is the antidote, but that won’t work on its own. I need to slow your friend’s heartbeat down to almost nothing or else the poison will spread faster than the antidote can stop it.’
The apothecary must have noticed Felix’s unconvinced expression. ‘Don’t worry, my dear boy. He’ll be sleeping for a week or so, but when he wakes he’ll be right as rain. Hmm? Yes indeed.’
Felix couldn’t shake the feeling he was heading down a path he’d rather not follow. But what choice did he have? He nodded.
Two minutes later, Gotrek appeared even closer to death than before. There was no sign of breathing, no shadow of life. Felix had never seen him so… helpless. The enormity of what had happened hit him like a mounted regiment. He knew it would be up to him to protect Gotrek while he recovered. Assuming he ever recovered. At the same time, he must find out who poisoned the Slayer.
And then Felix had an idea.
He stood in the pouring rain, listening to the priest pass last rites over Gotrek’s coffin.
‘You’re out early,’ Felix said to the woman standing beside him.
‘It’s my kind of weather,’ she replied.
‘I thought you couldn’t stand the Slayer.’
Ulrika chuckled. ‘I want to make sure he’s really dead.’
‘How did you hear?’
‘A lady does not reveal her sources.’
‘You are no lady. At least, not any more.’
They stood in silence. Felix was aware that his boots were sinking into the boggy ground. After a time he said, ‘I’m trying to find out who killed him.’
‘Do you have any suspects?’
Felix laughed loudly, drawing stares from the pallbearers and the priest. He cleared his throat and put on a solemn expression.
‘Oh, you’re serious. Where do I start? The most obvious suspect is Pragarti. She’s here in Kutenholz, somewhere.’
‘You know, the most obvious suspect is rarely the real culprit.’
Felix nodded. ‘Aye. While the list of those with a motive might be long, the number of folk likely to be in the vicinity is much shorter.’
‘As far as you know.’ Ulrika was quiet for a moment, then she said, ‘So we should start with Pragarti then?’
‘You know of her?’
‘Of course, I’m looking for her too. Why else do you think I’m in this Sigmar-forsaken town?’ Ulrika stepped towards the casket, her lithe form conjuring thoughts in Felix’s mind that were inappropriate at a funeral. ‘Can I see the body?’ she asked.
‘Why? Are you thirsty?’
‘No!’ Ulrika seemed genuinely offended.
‘A morbid sense of curiosity, perhaps?’
‘I want to examine him for clues.’
‘Fair enough.’ Felix ushered the priest over and whispered in his ear. The holy man nodded and took a step back. Felix signalled to the pallbearers and, with some difficulty, they raised the lid of the casket. All six of them gasped and stood back.
Felix and Ulrika hurried forwards to peer inside.
The coffin was filled with books. Of Gotrek’s body there was no sign.
‘I don’t know anything!’ the mortician spluttered, trying to maintain his composure despite the hand clamped around his throat, pinning him to the wall.
Ulrika squeezed a little harder. Felix swore he could see the man’s eyes popping out.
‘I find that unlikely,’ Felix said. ‘Now, we can do this the easy way’ – he drew his sword – ‘or we can do this the fun way.’
Felix raised the weapon and rested it in the crook of his free arm. He lined the point up with the mortician’s right eye and slowly inched it closer.
The man screamed and writhed, desperate to break free.
Felix was disappointed. ‘I’ve not even started yet!’
The mortician was trying to say something. Ulrika released her grip just enough to allow him some air.
‘All right!’ he gasped. ‘Please, I beg you. Let me go… I’ll tell you.’
‘Some people are just determined to spoil the fun, don’t you think, Ulrika?’
She probed one of her fangs suggestively with the end of her tongue and then said, ‘They can be a real drain.’
She released him. He crumpled to the floor and struggled to recover his breath. All the while he stared warily, not at Felix’s sword but at Ulrika’s teeth.
Felix sheathed his blade and hopped up onto an unoccupied slab, hoping it had been washed down since its last use.
‘If there’s something you’re keen to tell us, out with it.’
The mortician lay wheezing with his back to the wall, his gaze still locked on Ulrika.
‘A woman… dressed in robes… came with others… forced me… took the dwarf’s body…’
‘And where did they take him?’ Ulrika asked.
‘I don’t know! I swear… I have no idea. They paid me… and left.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Paid you?’
‘A token amount… for my trouble.’
‘Oh, you’re going to need a lot more payment than that…’
Ulrika advanced on him, but Felix stopped her.
‘Don’t! He can’t help us any further. It’s obviously Pragarti who took Gotrek and I don’t think he knows where she is.’
‘Luckily, I do,’ Ulrika said, heading for the door.
Felix stared at her in surprise. Not only was he in search of the same foe as Ulrika, but all this time she knew where the liche was hiding!
‘You know, if you’d told us you were here earlier, we could have avoided all this,’ Felix said as they left the mortuary. ‘Gotrek might still be alive.’
Ulrika laughed. ‘Oh Felix, I know he’s not dead!’
As he struggled to keep up with her, Felix longed for a day when he knew something, anything, that was still a secret.
It took about half an hour to reach Kutenholz’s traders’ district. Ulrika passed by warehouse after warehouse, eventually stopping at a derelict site where an old building had collapsed in on itself. One wall had crumbled entirely and the entrance was blocked by fallen beams.
‘Why are we here?’ Felix asked. ‘Gotrek and I searched this area already.’
Ulrika didn’t say a word. She walked towards the nailed-shut doors and, without hesitation, stepped right through them as if they weren’t there.
Felix was suddenly all alone. He glanced about, looking for anyone who might be able to assure him he had not gone mad.
Hesitantly, he followed. He reached the doors and held out a hand. It passed straight through the illusion. He closed his eyes and stepped forwards.
When he looked again he saw the wall of a perfectly intact
, smaller warehouse. Ulrika was moving along the outside of the real building, looking for a way in. Felix glanced behind him and saw the fake, ruined shell. From this side he could see it shimmer and fizz. He could even make out the street beyond.
‘Felix, come on!’
He turned just in time to see Ulrika disappear through a window she had forced open. Felix climbed in after her.
The warehouse was full of activity. Felix resisted the temptation to stand and stare. Instead he ducked down behind the same pile of boxes Ulrika used for cover. He peered out at the warehouse floor, watching the multitude of workers carrying lanterns, boxes, crates, pieces of metal and other, unidentifiable objects back and forth. They appeared to be constructing some sort of altar in the centre of the space on a raised dais. Supervising them were a smaller number of hooded figures in long grey robes – no doubt Pragarti’s loyal disciples.
‘Do you have any idea how long we spent looking for this place?’ Felix hissed as he moved back out of sight.
‘Aye. Now shut up.’
After all this was over, Felix was going to need a seriously long chat with the vampire, preferably before Gotrek recovered. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a lot of talking going on; just violence.
Felix had no idea how much time had passed, he might even have nodded off for a moment. He hadn’t had much sleep last night, after all. Ulrika was tapping him on the shoulder.
‘What? What is it?’
She pointed in the direction of the warehouse floor. ‘The Slayer,’ she said.
Felix peered around the boxes. There was a lot less activity now. The altar was complete and the workers had withdrawn. Only the hooded minions remained, standing solemnly in a circle around the dais.
Four of them came into view carrying a litter, upon which lay the body of Gotrek Gurnisson. Felix rose involuntarily, but Ulrika pulled him back down.
