by ich du
'No,' said Boerden with a grin. 'Do you see a drawn sword? Now, get out of here!'
With the old knight's laughter in his ears, Johannes pushed free, via a kick that buckled another soldier at the knees, and he was soon sprinting down a cobbled street, following the large form of Ruprecht as he shouldered his way through the throng rushing to the docks to have a look at the commotion being caused.
RUPRECHT HAD ALWAYS thought that people were never actually dragged into alleys except in badly written plays, but realised his error as he grabbed hold of Johannes's arm, yanking him off the main street into a refuse-strewn gap between two warehouses as the young man ran past.
'Down here!' the large man hissed, wincing at the cliche even as he said it.
'What's the matter?' Johannes asked, seeing Ruprecht's sour expression.
'Another illusion shattered,' he replied, then waved away Johannes's inquiring look. 'It doesn't matter.'
'Where's Ursula?' said Johannes, glancing down the alley.
'Watering pixies,' replied Ruprecht, standing directly in front of the knight.
'Watering?' said Johannes, then his eyes widened. 'Oh...'
'Any idea where we are?' asked Ruprecht, changing the subject quickly. 'I think we headed west from the docks.'
'I'm not sure, but it certainly looks like one of the less affluent areas,' said Johannes, waving a hand to encompass the mouldy cabbage leaves and dead rats strewn along the alley.
'There you are, Johannes,' said Ursula, walking back up the alley and tying a knot in the laces of her leggings. 'What kept you?'
'An inquisitive watchman,' Johannes replied, avoiding her gaze. 'Best to leave it at that.' 'Any idea where we are?' she said, peeking past Ruprecht into the road beyond.
'I already asked him,' said Ruprecht. 'I think we're lost.'
'Good,' said Ursula. 'If we don't even know where we are, then there's more chance that Luiten's men don't either.'
'That doesn't make sense,' protested Ruprecht. 'There could be a watch house just around the corner.'
'Actually, there is a sort of logic to it,' argued Johannes with a creased brow. 'If they think we're heading somewhere in particular, they'll block off the roads.'
'Either way, it doesn't matter,' said Ruprecht, scratching at his beard. 'I think you can be pretty sure we're not going to get out of the city. The gates'll be guarded for certain.'
'We need someone who knows the city to help us,' suggested Johannes. He paused, looked down at his foot and curled his lip in disgust. 'I hope that once belonged to a dog.'
'Can you pay attention for a moment, at least,' snapped Ursula, slapping her palm against Johannes's chest plate. 'I think I know where we can go.'
'You do?' said Ruprecht, taken aback. 'Where?'
'We've been there before,' said Ursula with a wink. 'All we have to do is find the Haggard Fox.'
'Who?' said Johannes. 'Who's the Haggard Fox? He sounds like a criminal.'
'It's a where, not a who.' Ruprecht explained. 'Although, you are right in a way. It's a tavern, but it's also a safe house for Ranald worshippers.'
'Ah, a thieves' den,' Johannes nodded in understanding. 'So how do we get there?'
'I don't know, but getting there's the easy bit,' said Ursula, nodding with her head for them to start walking down the alley. 'Convincing them to help us, that's going to be the hard part.'
THE THREE OF them watched from the darkened doorway of a guildhouse as the watchman crossed the street and took his long tinder pole to an oil lamp on the far corner of the square. As the flame caught, another part of the wide, open space was bathed in the soft yellow glow that had been creeping across the city as evening had come and the night watch had started their rounds. In the light of the lamp, Ruprecht could see more clearly the building on the opposite side of the square. A bas-relief of a warhammer trailing twin comet tails was clearly visible over the double doors of the building.
'You didn't just come here to get your bearings, did you,' he said accusingly, glancing at Ursula.
'A bit of prayer in times of need never goes astray,' she replied sombrely, but her expression brightened. 'Besides, we're about to consort with roguish followers of Ranald, and I would feel better if I had the chance to spend a little bit of time with Sigmar first. You know, explain what's happening. But I do know the way to the Haggard Fox from here, as well, so I wasn't lying.'
Ruprecht frowned, concerned by her light tone. Ursula was in an uncharacteristically good mood, and had been ever since their escape from Luiten's soldiers. Perhaps it was just relief, he decided.
The watchman had moved away out of sight, and they waited a moment longer to be sure. The square was empty, paved with small bricks, an impressive statue of some distant count on a pedestal at its centre. He was mounted on a warhorse, holding aloft his Runefang, the swords that were the symbol of each elector count. Such symbols had become meaningless over the years of bickering and outright infighting between the provinces of the Empire. It was the reason that Luiten was so keen to claim Ulfshard; he would be able to use it as a potent sign that the gods favoured him. It was a ploy that may work, but Ruprecht now doubted it was enough to unite the warring states again. Even Ursula seemed to have decided that was beyond the power of Ulfshard, and was merely content to raise another army to hunt down Kurt.
'Come on.' whispered Ursula, breaking Ruprecht's reverie as she stood up and stalked cautiously out into the square.
The three of them ghosted from shadow to shadow as much as they could, walking briskly through the puddles of light that surrounded the street lanterns. On reaching the doors to the Temple of Sigmar, Ruprecht cast another glance around the square while Ursula tried the handle. With a creak the door opened and they slipped through, Johannes closing it behind them as quietly as they could.
"Tis an odd hour to visit the home of our Lord Sigmar, is it not?' boomed a voice from the far end of the open temple.
A rotund priest was kneeling on the floor, bucket and scrubbing brush beside him, between the two long rows of benches that led up the floor towards the statue of Sigmar himself. It was carved from dark marble, in a design that Ursula had seen many times before - Sigmar standing tall and proud, his bearded face raised to the sky, right hand outstretched clasping his hammer Ghal-maraz, the Skull Splitter. The hammer itself was made from solid gold, or at least was heavily gilded, and it glittered in the light of the large candles that stood in sconces along the walls. The floor itself was a vast mosaic, and as they walked forwards, they saw that the scenes depicted the life of the Empire's founder.
First they crossed a scene depicting his birth in a rough wooden hut, his father beside him, his crown marking him out as a great chieftain of the ancient Unberogen tribe. The next saw a teenage Sigmar battling a gigantic orc warlord with an axe the size of a man, King Kurgan of the dwarfs behind the young man. The next showed the grateful king gifting Ghal-maraz to Sigmar, and here it was also picked out with solid gold tiles.
As they walked on, the priest pushed himself to his feet with much huffing and puffing, and stood regarding them suspiciously. Ruprecht's strides took him across scenes of Sigmar's other confrontations and victories, and finally they stood upon a huge picture that stretched the width of the large temple. The united tribes of men and the army of King Kurgan battled against an endless army of orcs, the twin mountains to each side symbolic of Black Fire Pass.
'I ask again, what brings you here after dark?' the priest said.
'What other reason would a pious person need to come into a temple.' Ursula replied, her tone frosty. 'We're here to pray of course.'
'Prayer sessions are conducted between the hours of eight and ten in the pre-noon, and four and six in the afternoon.' the priest said stiffly.
'What is your name?' Ursula asked, stepping right in front of the priest and staring him in the eye.
'I am Brother Elbrecht.' he said, stepping back.
'And have you ever prayed to Sigmar outside of this temp
le?' Ursula said, pacing after him. 'On a battlefield perhaps?'
At this the priest stopped his retreat and straightened up, puffing out his chest.
'Though my portly frame may suggest otherwise these days, I was once a Knight of Sigmar's Blood.' Elbrecht said proudly. 'I have wielded the lance and the hammer against the foe!'
'Then you will understand why, after many battles and travels, I would like to give thanks to Sigmar for looking over me.' Ursula said. 'Your past does you great credit, Brother Elbrecht.'
Taken aback by Ursula's forthright tone the priest stood there wordlessly for a few moments. His gaze then strayed to the sword hanging from Ursula's belt, and his eyes widened as he saw the glimmering pommel stone.
'That's Ulfshard!' he exclaimed, raising a hand to cover his mouth in astonishment. 'The whole city has been awash with rumours that it had been stolen! Everyone knows it, there's a thousand crowns reward for its return.'
Ruprecht stepped forward quickly and slapped a large hand onto the priest's shoulder.
'Let's you and me go and discuss theology somewhere quiet, eh?' Ruprecht said, pulling the man to one side. 'We can give my friend a little time to herself, while we discuss the finer points of Sigmar's divinity.'
Ruprecht bundled the priest across the tiled floor, heading for an archway beyond the statue of Sigmar. As he thrust Elbrecht into the chamber beyond, cast a glance over his shoulder to see Ursula on one knee, Ulfshard on the ground in front of her.
URSULA COULD FEEL the warmth coming from the magical fire that burned within the blue pommel stone of Marbad's blade, and closed her eyes. She focussed her thoughts on the sword in front of her, picturing it in her mind. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest, slow and rhythmic.
She did not speak. She did not have to. Mere words no longer conveyed her prayers to Sigmar. Instead she just contemplated the blade that was in her possession, her soul filled with gratitude.
Opening her eyes, she looked up at the gigantic statue towering above her. The shining hammer looked as bright as the sun, and she focussed her attention on it. The light brightened and brightened, and she resisted shielding her eyes against the glare. The hammer was now a blazing sword, wreathed in dark flame. Sigmar no longer stood there, and instead the weapon was wielded by a massive shadow, with great bat-like wings that spread around her, seeming to enclose her in a cave of darkness. Two burning red eyes gazed at her malevolently. Ursula felt no fear, as the warmth of Ulfshard heated her palms.
'Are you alright?' Johannes's voice broke her trancelike state, and for a moment she felt dizzy.
Coming to her senses, she saw the knight standing beside her, his expression one of deep concern. She realised she was holding Ulfshard by its blade; blood was trickling from her hands and dripping down the sword onto the tiles. Looking down, she saw that she was kneeling on the picture of Sigmar himself, her blood spattering his stern bearded face.
'Yes, yes, I'm alright,' she said. 'Where's Ruprecht? We should leave.'
'I think his theology discussion got a bit heated,' replied Johannes. 'There seemed to be a bit of bumping around and the sound of furniture being broken.'
It was at that moment that Ruprecht appeared from the archway he had disappeared into, rubbing a hand on his chin.
'He wasn't lying, he's certainly a tough one inside all that blubber,' he said with a scowl. 'Luckily he decided to hit the chair over my head rather than somewhere soft.'
'What did you do to him?' Ursula said with an accusing tone.
'Relax. I just gagged him and tied him up,' Ruprecht assured her. 'His assistants will find him in the morning and he can tell everyone how he almost caught the infamous Ulfshard thieves.'
Ursula nodded in acceptance. She realised she still held Ulfshard and carefully changed her grip to the hilt. Spying a table with an embroidered cloth on which was set a few gold and silver talismans, she used the altar cloth to wipe her blood from the blade. This done, she sheathed the elven sword.
'How are your hands?' asked Johannes, striding forward and grasping Ursula's hands,turning them palms up. There was no mark on them and he let go his hold and stepped back in shock.
'How is that possible?' he said, glancing at the floor to confirm what he had seen, and sure enough droplets of blood were still splashed across the image of Sigmar.
'We'll explain later,' said Ruprecht, laying a reassuring arm across Johannes's shoulders. 'Ursula and Sigmar have, well, what you might call a special arrangement. Again.'
This last word was spoken softly, and Ursula met Ruprecht's admonishing stare with a blank expression, and then shrugged softly and nodded. Banging and muffled shouting from the bound Elbrecht caught their attention, and Ursula nodded towards the door as a signal to leave.
THE HAGGARD FOX looked the same as it had half a year earlier, except that the stuffed animal hanging over the door looked even more bedraggled, if that was at all possible. A drunken sailor staggered down the street ahead of the trio, reeling from side to side before collapsing against the wall of a shop a little further along. Ruprecht went in first, glancing up to confirm that the secret symbol of Ranald was still carved into the underside of the lintel. The small circle with a vertical line through it could still be faintly seen. Ruprecht gave a wink to Ursula and they stepped inside.
They hung their cloaks and small packs on the row of hooks along one wall of the entrance hall, and Ruprecht looked pointedly at Johannes.
'Some odd things may happen here but they're trustworthy enough,' Ruprecht said. 'Don't say anything out of turn.'
Johannes's expression of indignity wordlessly pleaded his innocence of any such crime, but Ruprecht continued to give him a warning stare.
'On my honour,' Johannes said, placing his hand over his heart.
With a grunt, Ruprecht opened the door into the common room and they followed him inside. There were few patrons around the room: a couple of swarthy Tileans sat at one of the tables by the roaring fire, and a few sailors lounged in a drunken stupor by the thick-paned windows. From a back room, the guesthouse's patron appeared, a tall, broad man with a golden eye patch and a pearl-studded band holding his dark hair back.
'I see that times have been good to you, Ruud,' Ursula said, crossing the room and giving the surprised man a hug.
Stepping back from her embrace, he looked at her, then Johannes, before turning his gaze to Ruprecht. A broad smile split Ruud's face.
'Ah, the beautiful wanderer returns, with her bear in tow I see,' he said, stepping forward and shaking Ruprecht's hand vigorously, He turned to Johannes and offered his hand. 'And who is your new companion?'
'This is Johannes.' Ursula said, and the knight took the proffered hand and gave it a perfunctory shake before letting go. 'He's a good man, a friend of ours.'
'A good man?' laughed Ruud Goeyen. 'Well, he's the only one in Marienburg! Come my friends, there is food in the kitchen. Follow me.'
They trailed after him as he crossed the room and led them through a low door at the far end. Turning left, he led them down a short flight of stairs. As they filed past into a bare cellar, he closed the door behind them. Taking a long key from his pocket, he locked the door. Turning back to them, Ruud's face was a picture of anger.
'What do you think you're doing, coming here?' he snarled. 'The watch have already been here looking for you!'
'They have?' Ursula said, dismayed. 'What did you tell them?'
'The truth.' Ruud replied, his expression softening slightly. 'That I hadn't seen you and hoped not to. You have to go. Now.'
'There is nowhere else to go.' Ursula said, taking Ruud's hand in hers. 'You have to help us.'
'Look, you're a nice enough lass, and you pay your bills, but no means no.' Ruud said firmly, pulling his hand away. 'I can't risk it. Look, I might lose business if it gets around that you were even here, never mind smuggling you out of the city. You're far too hot for me to handle, and if I get caught with you, well that's the end of it. The count's thro
wing around accusations of treason left, right and centre.'
'Who said anything about smuggling us from the city?' said Ruprecht.
'What else would you be after?' Ruud replied, his annoyance clear from the tone of his voice. 'Or were you thinking of just walking out of here with the count's sword?'
'It's not the count's sword!' snapped Ursula.
'I don't care who it belongs to, it's more bad news than I'm used to, and I don't want it here.' Ruud said, crossing his arms stubbornly.
'Excuse me.' said Johannes, raising a finger.
'What?' said Ruud and Ruprecht in unison.
'The crow that flies by night is seldom seen.' Johannes said.
'What?' Ruprecht repeated.
'Why didn't you say so?' said Ruud, his anger turning to a smile. 'While doves that flutter in the sun are often caught.'
'What are you two talking about?' Ursula asked, but Johannes and Ruud were now concerned with each other and nothing else.
'Waifs make pennies by begging.' said Ruud, tilting his head one side.
'Kings are no happier in their grave.' countered Johannes, his expression serious.
'What are they talking about?' Ursula asked again, and Ruprecht took her by the arm and dragged her to one side.
'It's some kind of thiefspeak.' he whispered. 'Best not to interrupt, I think Johannes is negotiating. There's more to our young knight than we knew. I know a few phrases, but he's an expert. I must remember to ask him about that later.'
'Yes, you should.' Ursula agreed, darting a suspicious look at Johannes.
'Milking cows is for maids.' Ruud was now arguing angrily. 'Swinging swords is for soldiers.'
'Alright, alright.' said Johannes, grinning and holding up his hands in mock surrender. He banged his fist against his chestplate. 'The executioner does not swing his axe for good subjects.'
Ruud nodded and they both spat into their left palms and shook hands. Johannes began pulling the buckles on his armour, taking off his greaves and vambraces.
'Could you help me with this, I'm supposed to have a squire to do this sort of thing.' he said, looking at Ruprecht.
