“So I did hit it.” Conrad nodded. “I took a shot at one the day before yesterday, but it ran off.”
“No sign of your deserter, though,” Rudi added, enjoying the expressions of surprise on the faces of the adventurers. Most of them anyway: Bruno was still chatting to Hanna, oblivious of anything else. Theo nodded.
“Keep an eye out. He was heading this way the last we heard, so he must have left some trace. Especially one someone like you can read.” He smiled, and Rudi felt his irritation easing. “Running across you last night was a real stroke of luck.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rudi continued to practise the sword drill Theo had shown him, along with a few others that the mercenary captain had added to his repertoire. His movements became more confident and fluid, but he couldn’t see much point in the exercise. He made a few half-hearted attempts to talk to Hanna, but she remained aloof, and spent most of her time either studying with Alwyn or chatting away to Bruno. What he heard of these conversations was either far too abstruse for anyone unversed in the magical to understand, or mind-numbingly inconsequential.
As a result he threw himself into his role as the company’s tracker with single-minded dedication. He was cheered by the fact that this at least was a skill no one else possessed, and which most of the band appeared to value. It also kept him slightly apart from most of the group.
He ranged ahead so the subtle clues as to what had passed before them weren’t disturbed by their boot prints. This, he felt, was no bad thing. His upbringing in the forest had left him solitary by nature, and being surrounded by so many people so much of the time left him a little on edge.
On the second day he picked up the trail of the boar Conrad had shot again, and pointed out the traces it had left to Theo. Kreiger considered it a moment, then motioned Conrad and Bodun over to join them.
“The lad says it’s not far ahead of us,” he explained, and Rudi nodded confirmation. “Go with him and see if you can finish it off.”
“Lead on then, young skavenslayer.” The dwarf hefted his heavy axe. “It’s been some while since we had pork for dinner.” Rudi tried to hide his apprehension. Wild boars were dangerous enough at the best of times, and this one was already wounded. But Bodun looked strong enough to deal with it. Besides, with any luck Conrad would be able to take it down with his bow before it got close enough for that to become necessary. He suppressed the thought of his own bow, now lost forever, with a sigh of regret. The archer nodded.
“We’re right behind you.” It was only as they moved off that Rudi realised both warriors were deferring to his expertise without thought or comment. He felt a flush of pride. He couldn’t resist glancing round to see if Hanna had noticed and was duly impressed, but she was watching Bruno do tricks with his new knives and didn’t spare him a glance. She seemed to have developed an irritating giggle, like some persistent chest infection, and this floated across to him on the breeze every time Bruno said something.
“Best get to it, then,” he said, trying to sound businesslike. He led the others away from the rest stop they’d established. The trail led deep into a stand of trees, one of many dotting the landscape between the patches of marshland which still seeped out from the edge of the Reik. Boars preferred woodland environments, and he’d been half-expecting to find traces of them every time their journey had taken them through one of the copses. As always, being surrounded by trees calmed and soothed him, the comforting sense of familiarity settled around him like a cloak.
“Any sign of it?” Bodun asked. Rudi glanced at the dwarf, convinced he was joking, until he realised that neither of his companions could see the evidence of the animal’s passage, which was so clear to him. It was rather like the way Hanna could extract meaning from the strange squiggles on a piece of paper, he supposed, so long as they were in Reikspiel.
“It went into that thicket,” he replied, and pointed. “See where the grass has been flattened there?” The dwarf stared for a long time, and shook his head.
“Not really,” he admitted. “I’m better with rocks.”
“And beer steins,” Conrad added, to Bodun’s evident amusement. He turned to Rudi. “Is it still in there?”
“It hasn’t come out the same way.” Rudi bent down, examining the ground, and found a footprint with little difficulty. The sides were still crisp and well defined, despite the softness of the loam, which meant it was fresh. “These tracks are only a few hours old.”
They moved off to the left, where the surrounding undergrowth seemed thinner and more permeable. Rudi found a way through with little difficulty. He hid his amusement at his companions’ struggles to keep up with him. As a consequence he was some way ahead when he stopped abruptly.
“Great Taal!”
“What is it?” Conrad was at his shoulder in a heartbeat, his bow drawn, looking for a target. By way of an answer Rudi indicated the butchered pig lying on the forest floor ahead of them.
“It was our boar. Someone else got to it first.” He approached the carcass warily, careful not to disturb any tracks which might surround it. But the ground was so churned up and so slick with blood there wasn’t much in the immediate vicinity he could read. After a few moments searching he came across a booted footprint, leading away, and nodded with satisfaction.
“What have you found?” Bodun called.
“We’re getting close,” Rudi said. “Assuming it was your deserter who did this, of course.” He returned to the remains of the pig. “We might have frightened him off. Most of the meat’s still on the carcass.”
“Best news I’ve had all week!” The dwarf started forward eagerly, and Rudi waved him back.
“Hold on a minute. I want to examine this first.” Despite Bodun’s grumbling, he squatted down and looked more closely at the body. “Thought so.”
“What is it?” Conrad asked, returning the arrow he’d drawn to his quiver.
“A townsman did this. Look.” Rudi beckoned his companions forward. “He hasn’t butchered it properly. Probably doesn’t know how. He’s just cut a few chunks off the haunches.”
“Not a mistake I’ll make, you can be sure,” Bodun said, drawing a knife and stepping forward eagerly.
“How was it killed?” Conrad asked. Rudi indicated a deep wound in the creature’s chest.
“With a spear, by the look of it. He must have spitted it while it was charging.”
“Military pattern,” Conrad said after a quick glance at the damage. “It’s our deserter all right.” He shook his head. “He must have some nerve to stand his ground like that.”
“Or he’s very stupid,” Bodun added, beginning to flense the carcass with a degree of enthusiasm which almost made up for his lack of expertise. Rudi sighed.
“I’ll go on a bit,” he said. “See if I can find some more tracks.” It looked as though his companions would be some time, and he found himself relishing the chance to be alone in the forest again. True there was the deserter to consider, but after facing skaven and beastmen it was hard to think of a mere human adversary as intimidating.
“I’ll come with you,” Conrad offered, and Rudi shook his head.
“No offence, but I’ll move faster and more quietly alone.”
“Fair enough.” The archer nodded, and went to help Bodun with the boar.
Leaving them to it Rudi slipped away, following the tracks he’d found before. As he’d expected they were easy to follow. Whoever had left them showed no signs of woodcraft, and he had only been out of sight of his companions for a few minutes before a faint, familiar odour tickled his nostrils. Woodsmoke. He slowed down, wondering for a moment if he should return and fetch the others, but he dismissed the thought. Better to get closer, and see the lie of the land first.
Confident in the skills of a lifetime he eased his way through the undergrowth, stepping carefully around anything that might snap or rustle to betray his presence. The smell grew stronger: it was overlaid with the odour of charring meat. Clearly the
man he was stalking was no better a cook than he was a butcher. A small clearing lay ahead, and Rudi eased himself into the shadow of a tree.
His quarry was sitting next to a smoking fire, which, to Rudi’s practiced eye, had far too much green wood on it to make a satisfactory blaze. He was hunched miserably over a haunch of meat sizzling on a stick. What wasn’t burnt was almost raw.
The fellow was large and muscular, and his face was partly obscured by the rag he’d tied around his nose and mouth in an attempt to avoid the worst effects of the smoke. He was dressed in stained and muddy clothes. Every now and again he coughed, whether from the smoke which seeped inside his improvised protection or some other cause Rudi couldn’t tell.
A pack lay on the ground beside him, and a spear like the ones the militia back in Kohlstadt used to carry was stuck into the ground next to it point first. The shaft was stained with drying blood almost to the butt, and Rudi shuddered at the picture that conjured up; the maddened boar must have spitted itself on the point and just kept going, almost to the end. He glanced across at the deserter again, and sure enough a crude and bloodstained bandage had been inexpertly tied around his forearm.
He’d seen enough, Rudi told himself. He took a step back into the shelter of the trees. The fellow was clearly going to be there for some time, certainly long enough to return to Conrad and Bodun and lead them back to the clearing. He was on the point of turning away when the deserter pulled off his makeshift mask to take a cautious bite at the lump of meat. Rudi froze, his heart hammering in shock. He was so distracted that he missed his footing, and stepped on a dried twig with a loud and echoing Crack!
“Who’s there?” Fritz Katzenjammer surged to his feet and grabbed the spear. He whirled round to face him.
“It’s me. Rudi.” The young forester stepped cautiously into the clearing. He moved slowly, in contrast to the whirlwind of his thoughts. Meeting his old enemy here, like this, was so unexpected he could hardly take it in. “What in the name of Sigmar are you doing here?”
“Trying to eat.” Fritz was clearly no less truculent than he had been in Kohlstadt. “Were you following me?”
“I’m not sure,” Rudi admitted, beginning to wonder if he’d made a mistake. “I’m with a group of people looking for someone, and we came across your tracks. Have you seen anyone else around here?”
“No.” Fritz held the spear at the ready, the point aimed squarely at Rudi’s heart. “And I don’t want to.”
“I can understand that.” Rudi nodded, wondering what he should do. If Fritz really was the deserter Theo and his companions were after, he couldn’t let them take him. The hulking simpleton was bound to say something to cast suspicion on Hanna and himself. “It’s no fun on the run, is it?”
“You’re a long way from Kohlstadt yourself,” Fritz said, refusing to rise to the bait. “What happened?”
“We’re in the same boat,” Rudi told him. There was no point in lying now. “Hanna and I were accused of heresy, just like you. We’re trying to keep ahead of the witch hunters too.”
“Except she is a witch,” Fritz said. “And she cursed my brother!” He made a clumsy lunge at Rudi with the point of the spear. “I might have known you’d be helping her!”
“Don’t be so stupid!” Rudi dodged the attack and drew his new sword in the vague hope that the sight of it might bring Fritz back to his senses. “She had nothing to do with what happened to Hans! It was the beastman’s blood on the thorns he fell into!”
“Then it’s your fault!” Fritz rushed at him again. “You pushed him into that bush! I’ll kill you!”
“Hans is fine!” Rudi found himself slipping easily into one of the sword drills Theo had taught him. The flat of the blade deflected the sharp head of the spear as it thrust at his guts. “I saw him in the woods a couple of days later!”
“Left him to die, did you?” Fritz brought the butt of the spear round in a strike to the side of Rudi’s head. Rudi ducked it, and stepped inside the taller lad’s reach. He kicked out at the back of his knee. Fritz howled, and dropped to the ground, slashing the weapon he held towards Rudi’s shins.
“He was fine. He was with some people who could help him.” That was a bit of a stretch, but now was hardly the time for long explanations. Rudi jumped easily over the hurtling spearshaft, marvelling at his own expertise. He’d practised diligently, it was true, but he could hardly have expected to gain this much proficiency. Once again he found himself feeling detached from his own body, as he had that night in the woods when he was drawn to the strange celebration.
“Liar!” Fritz bellowed, trying to rise. Rudi kicked him in the face and knocked him backwards.
“Listen, you imbecile. This is important. If you say one word to the people we’re with about me and Hanna I’ll kill you. Do you understand?” A detached corner of his mind observed his own actions with horror and revulsion, which was rapidly swept aside by a savage glee in the act of violence. The tip of his sword was against Fritz’s throat now, and the urge to plunge it in and see the lad spasm and choke on his own blood was almost overwhelming. In fact it would be safer, a little voice urged. With Fritz dead no one would ever find out their secret. He drew back his hand for the killing blow…
“Hold, skavenslayer!” Bodun’s bellow echoed around the clearing, snapping him back to his senses in the nick of time. The dwarf was ploughing his way through the undergrowth by sheer brute strength; Conrad a pace or two behind. Shivering with reaction Rudi lowered the sword. “We need him alive!”
Fritz’s eyes were wide with terror as Rudi sheathed his weapon and bent to pull him to his feet. He grasped the simpleton’s injured hand and yanked him upright with a gasp of fear and pain.
“I mean it,” he said, too quietly for his approaching companions to hear. “Just one word.” He raised his voice to a normal level, and adopted a bantering tone like the one the sell-swords habitually used among themselves. “Now you tell me,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The threat seemed to have worked, for the time being at least. Despite Rudi’s apprehension Fritz said nothing to his companions on the way back to the camp. He simply darted terrified glances from one to the other, which reminded Rudi uncomfortably of a rabbit in a snare.
Before leaving the clearing Conrad had picked up the youth’s pack and thrown it to the young forester, who caught it absently with one hand.
“Here,” the archer said. Rudi looked at him quizzically. “You beat him on your own. It’s all yours.”
“Thanks.” Rudi responded mechanically, still trying to come to terms with the feelings the fight had stirred up in him. Now it was over he was trembling from the reaction and he felt vaguely sick. He had little enough time for Fritz, that was true, but he’d been profoundly shocked by how close he’d come to killing the hulking youth. Not trusting himself to speak he simply shouldered the burden and walked after the others. Conrad carried the spear, joking that the army would be more pleased to see it back than they would the man who’d stolen it.
To Rudi’s relief Hanna wasn’t around when they rejoined the others, although Bruno was hovering on the fringes of the group looking vaguely dejected. They all crowded round with congratulatory back-slappings, and Theo thrust a mug of carefully hoarded ale into his hands.
“Sounds like you earned it,” he said.
“That he did,” Bodun confirmed, looking up from hobbling the prisoner. “He was doing so well I thought he was going to cheat us out of our bounty!”
“That would have been unfortunate,” Theo said, looking at Rudi with renewed respect, and taking in the injuries to Fritz’s face. “I should have warned you the warrant’s specific about bringing him in alive.”
“Waste of time if you ask me,” Bruno put in sulkily. “They’re only going to hang him anyway.” Fritz flinched, looking even more terrified than he had before. Rudi tried to ignore a pang of sympathy.
“Who cares?” Alwyn said, taking her husband’s arm. “So long a
s the bounty’s paid.” She and Conrad looked as though they were planning to celebrate their success early.
“He doesn’t look worth five crowns to me,” Bruno persisted. “The last couple we brought in were only one apiece, and they put up a lot more of a fight.”
“So,” Rudi asked him, hoping to divert his attention. “Where’s Hanna?”
“Out looking for herbs.” Bruno shrugged. “I offered to go with her, but she said she’d be fine.” She’d probably said a lot more, judging by his expression, but Rudi tried not to gloat. If the youth wanted to pay court to her he was just going to have to learn to live with her temper.
“Right. She does that.” Rudi shrugged, trying to look as unconcerned as he could. “Which way did she go?”
Bruno indicated the direction, and Rudi set out across the open grassland to find her. The trail was easy enough to follow. The undulations of the ground soon hid him from the others, and a sense of unease began to grow in him. Would Fritz really keep quiet, now he was out of sight, or would he try to bargain with the adventurers and reveal their secret? All his old forebodings about potential treachery came rushing to the fore again. After all, they’d known these people less than a week, and they’d cheated them before…
“What are you doing here?” Lost in his thoughts he’d stumbled across Hanna sooner than he’d expected. She looked up from her seat on an outcrop of sun-warmed rock and glared at him, fumbling the piece of shiny stone she’d taken from the skaven back into its bag. Rudi shrugged.
“We’ve got a problem,” he began.
Getting to talk to Fritz without the others overhearing them turned out to be less tricky than he’d anticipated. The wound the boar had left on the older lad’s arm was the perfect excuse.
“Better let my sister take a look at it,” he said, loud enough for Fritz to hear him, and hoping the simpleton would have enough wit to realise their imposture and say nothing to undermine it. Theo looked a little dubious, so he added “I’m sure you don’t want him dying from an infected cut before we can cash him in.”
[Blood on the Reik 01] - Death's Messenger Page 29
