by Nathan Long
‘Yes?’ said the countess. ‘And who is this person? Where do they hold it?’
Lady Magda lowered her eyes. ‘That I do not know, countess, for Rodick would not tell me.’
The countess’s eyes flared. ‘Then… then why are you here? Have you come to tease us? I do not understand.’
‘I apologise, countess,’ said Magda. ‘I did not mean to appear coy.’ She raised her head, jaw set. ‘The difficulty is that Rodick believes that the person who holds the waystone is so highly placed, and so powerful, that he dare not reveal his name until he has irrefutable proof of his guilt. Unfortunately, Rodick’s ability to gather this proof is hampered by his powerlessness and his lack of men.’
The countess raised an eyebrow as the parliament began to rumble with whispers. She sat back in her chair. ‘Rodick is hardly powerless, lady,’ she said. ‘He is a knight of the realm, and if he has need of men he has only to ask. I am his cousin after all.’
‘And he is grateful for your charity, countess,’ said Magda. ‘But Rodick fears retaliations even you may not be able to protect him from. What if my husband recovers the stone without succeeding in gathering enough evidence against he who holds it? That person could strike back at him, and without a more prominent position and a force of men to call his own, Rodick might be murdered for his bravery. This should not be the reward of the man who saves Talabheim and the Empire.’
The countess smiled, as if a question had been answered. ‘And what measures does my dear cousin feel will ensure his safety?’
‘Countess,’ said Magda. ‘In order to further his investigations, and to ensure that he has an official voice to counter any accusations after he has recovered the stone, Rodick asks that he be made Hunter Lord Commander of the Talabheim city guard, and be given the seat in Parliament that comes with the position.’
The parliament erupted, the voice of Detlef Keinholtz, the current commander of the city guard, louder than all the others. ‘It’s nothing but blackmail!’ he shouted.
‘Rodick has recovered the stone already!’ said Lord Scharnholt. ‘There is no highly placed villain.’
‘Recovered it?’ cried the bakers’ guild master. ‘Don’t be a fool! He never lost it!’
‘It’s all a ruse!’ said Arch Lector Farador. ‘A play for a seat in the parliament. And he risks the safety of the city to do it!’
The countess banged her mace for order and the hubbub slowly subsided. She turned a pleasant smile on Magda. Only the sparkle of her eyes revealed her fury. ‘So, if we grant him this appointment, Rodick will guarantee the recovery of the stone?’
Magda nodded. ‘There are no guarantees in life, countess. But it will certainly make his task much easier.’
‘No doubt,’ said the countess. ‘Particularly if he already has the waystone in his possession.’
‘My lady,’ said Magda, looking hurt. ‘I cannot say how deeply it pains me to find such distrust in the hearts of such noble men and women. If you must search my lord’s house in order to satisfy your suspicions.
‘We would certainly find nothing, of course,’ said the countess, dryly. ‘And the reason that my cousin does not make his case in person has nothing to do with the fact that, if he were here, I could order him to turn over the stone and imprison him if he did not, but only because he is even now on the trail of the waystone and cannot break away from the hunt.’
‘Why yes,’ said Lady Magda. ‘That is exactly the reason, countess.’
There was more uproar at this. The countess leaned forward and conferred with those beside her. Reiner stared at Magda. What a woman! What aplomb! He was torn between wanting to bow to her mastery, and wanting to strangle her with his bare hands.
The countess raised her hand. ‘Lady Magda, we thank you for bringing this news to our attention and for making our cousin’s wishes known to us. We require a little time to consider his terms and ask that you return to us in three days’ time to hear our answer.’
‘Thank you, countess,’ said Magda. ‘We await your pleasure. Though I remind you that the plague of madness grows daily worse, and much tragedy may befall in three days.’
‘Thank you, lady,’ said the countess, drawing herself up haughtily. ‘We need no reminders of the city’s troubles. You are dismissed.’
Lady Magda curtsied low, then turned and walked to the exit with unhurried grace. Reiner looked around at the members of the parliament. If looks could kill, Lady Magda would have been a red smear on the chambers polished floor.
NINE
In My Heart I Know It
IT WAS NEAR midnight before Reiner returned to the Reikland legation’s residence and climbed the stairs to Manfred’s suite of rooms. He knocked on the door.
‘Can’t come in,’ came Franka’s sleepy voice.
‘It’s Reiner.’
There was a clacking of locks and the door opened. Franka blinked out at him, rubbing her face. He stepped past her and she locked them in.
‘At least you are unaccompanied by bailiffs,’ she said, yawning.
‘No,’ said Reiner. ‘We are not arrested. The parliament was distracted from our villainy by greater villainy.’
‘Oh?’
‘Magda.’
‘Ah.’
‘She and Rodick hold the waystone hostage with the job of chief constable and a seat in the parliament as ransom,’ said Reiner, sitting wearily on the bed and pulling off his boots. ‘Where are Jergen and Dieter and Darius?’
Franka jerked a thumb at the adjoining valet’s quarters. ‘Sleeping.’
‘Any trouble?’
‘No.’
Reiner nodded, then looked shyly at Franka. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Valaris was eavesdropping. He would hear everything Reiner wanted to say to Franka. Reiner flushed. It was like being on stage. Then he shrugged. What did Valaris care about their lives? He only wanted the stone. He couldn’t wait to speak until after the dark elf had freed them. They might be dead before then. ‘Er… er, Franka.’ ‘Captain?’
Reiner sighed. ‘Less of the “captain” if you don’t mind. It’s Reiner to you and you know it.’ ‘Do you order me to call you that?’ asked Franka, stiffly. Reiner kicked his boots across the room. ‘Curse it, girl,’ he said. ‘I know I am a fool, but can you not forgive it? Can you not understand?’
Franka shrugged. ‘I can understand the reasons you think I might be a spy, but can I forgive it? No.’
Reiner flopped back angrily on the bed and hissed as he jolted his inflamed chest.
Franka looked down at him, pain creasing her forehead. ‘Reiner, only say it. Say that you know I am not the spy.’
‘But I do know you are not the spy!’ he cried. ‘In my heart I know it.’
‘But only in your heart?’ asked Franka, fixing him with shining eyes.
Reiner held her gaze for a long moment, trying to will himself to say what she wanted him to say, to lie to her as he had lied to so many in his life. It would be so easy. But…
He looked away, ashamed, and heard a sob in her throat. He threw himself off the bed and stood, straightening his doublet. ‘Summon the others, archer. Get them all up.’ ‘Now?’ asked Franka, sniffing. ‘Now.’
THE BLACKHEARTS STUMBLED, sleepy and surly, into Manfred’s rooms, and sprawled on the available furniture, scratching and yawning. Reiner stood in the centre of them, arms crossed, feeling hard as stone, and hoping he looked that way. ‘I have good news,’ he said, when they had all settled themselves.
‘Manfred’s died of the gout and we’re all free men?’ asked Hals.
‘Stow it, pikeman,’ snapped Reiner. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
Hals’s eyes widened. ‘Beg pardon, captain.’
‘The first bit of good news,’ Reiner said, starting again, ‘is that Teclis lives.’
The Blackhearts brightened at this.
‘Good old chalkie,’ said Gert. ‘Tougher than he looks.’
‘The second piece is that Rodick and Magda hold the
waystone ransom and refuse to give it up to the countess unless Rodick is made chief constable.’
‘This is good news?’ asked Pavel.
‘It gives us an even chance,’ said Reiner. ‘Had Rodick given the stone to the countess, it would be locked away in her manor behind ten score guards and Sigmar knows what locks and wards. Clever as they are, Magda and Rodick haven’t those resources. So it is only a matter of finding where they’ve hidden it.’
‘We’ll have some company there, I’m guessing,’ said Hals.
‘Aye,’ said Reiner. ‘The countess asked Magda for three days to consider her offer, and you can be certain it wasn’t so she might confer with her cabinet. If she hasn’t already sent von Pfaltzen and his men and the whole of the Talabheim city guard out sniffing for the stone I’ll be very surprised.’
‘Magda must know this,’ said Franka.
Reiner nodded. ‘She practically dared the countess to search her house, so she’s hidden it well. Fortunately,’ he said smirking, ‘being thieves, tricksters and villains, I hold out some hope for our success.’ He sighed. ‘Only remember this. If we fail, and the waystone is returned to the countess, our job becomes that much harder.’
The Blackhearts nodded and began to rise.
Reiner held up his hand. ‘There… there is one other thing.’
The Blackhearts settled back again, but Reiner only chewed his lip, staring at the Araby carpet.
At last he looked up. ‘This should have been spoken of long ago, and it has hurt us that it hasn’t.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘It might hurt me to say it now. Might kill me. But I can stand it no longer.’ He looked around at them all. ‘One of us is a spy for Manfred.’
They looked back at him levelly, but said nothing.
‘I see this comes as no surprise to you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think it would. Ever since Abel’s poisoning, we have been treating each other like lepers, and I have been the worst of all. I have suspected even those I… I have known longest.’ Reiner forced himself not to look at Franka. ‘I don’t blame Manfred for wishing to spy on us. We are Blackhearts after all. I might have done the same.’ He sighed. ‘Unfortunately, since Abel’s death, the presence of the spy has had an unexpected consequence. It has destroyed the camaraderie and the trust that are essential to a fighting company. We have been lucky so far, but if we can’t depend upon one another, it will eventually kill us, and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I want to live to see my freedom.’
The Blackhearts still said nothing, but Reiner could see them thinking it through.
‘So here it is.’ Reiner continued, letting out a shaky breath. ‘Now that Manfred has agreed to free us if we can free him, we are all on the same side. There is no longer any need for secrets. In fact there is more need for us all to be honest and above board with each other so that we can better work together for Manfred’s salvation.’ He swallowed. ‘Therefore, I ask the spy to reveal himself, so that the poison of suspicion will stop eating away at us and we can rely upon one another again.’
The Blackhearts looked around expectantly, waiting for someone to speak up. Reiner’s heart thudded. His nails bit into his palms. No one spoke. No one stood. No one raised their hand or attacked them. They only continued to glance around, waiting for someone else to do something.
Reiner’s fists clenched. ‘No?’ he asked. ‘You haven’t the courage? My arguments did not convince you?’
‘Maybe there isn’t a spy,’ said Gert.
‘Of course there is a spy!’ spat Reiner. ‘Beard of Sigmar! There may be two! A new one among our new recruits to keep an eye on the old one! Or maybe three! Manfred could have turned one of us first four to watch the others! Maybe you are all spies! Or maybe I am the spy! Maybe…’ He caught himself—a little too late perhaps, for the others were looking at him warily—and dropped his arms abruptly to his sides.
‘Get out,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘Go. Assemble at dawn in the coach yard. Dress to hunt.’
The Blackhearts stood and filed out silently, keeping their eyes fixed on the floor. Reiner watched after Franka as she turned into the hall. Her face was drawn and pale, her eyes troubled. She didn’t look back.
REINER LAY AWAKE in Manfred’s luxurious bed. He couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of Franka and her stubbornness rattled unceasingly in his head like dice in a cup. The cuts in his chest kept him awake too, their dull throb spiking to agony every time he turned. He needed something to kill the pain, both pains. He needed… he needed to get drunk. He didn’t want to leave the room and hunt for the pantry. Boellengen or one the others might corner him with questions. Maybe Manfred had a bottle.
He got out of bed and opened the armoire, pushing Manfred’s clothes aside, and opened a valise, burrowing through shirts and ruffs and combs and perfumes. Nothing drinkable. He tried another. At the bottom, under Hern’s Histories and Families of Talabec, was a small leather-bound book. Reiner flipped it open idly then stopped. It was a journal, written in Manfred’s hand. The entry he had opened to was from two years previous. It read, ‘The Emperor has learned of Holgrin’s “treachery” through a third party. He will be hanged tomorrow. All goes as planned.’
Reiner’s blood ran cold. Sigmar’s balls! What had he stumbled upon? He flipped forward to the last entry, dated only two days ago.
‘Our recovery of the waystone is paramount. It must be proved that Talabheim cannot rescue itself. And if “evidence” could be found that the countess was behind the stone’s disappearance, so much the better. (Put Reiner’s lot to work on this?) The Emperor has expressed a wish that Talabecland develop closer ties to the Reikland, and what better way to achieve that than have a Reiklander rule Talabecland’s greatest city, and then soon the duchy itself. With Elector Count Feuerbach missing, there is no better time to strike. I have languished too long in the shadows. It is time to step into the sun.’
Reiner stared slack-jawed at the words. He had known Manfred to be manipulative and unscrupulous in his dealings with his underlings and those he considered traitors, but this ambition was something Reiner hadn’t noted before. And his willingness to destroy the innocent as well as the guilty if they stood in his way was, well, criminal. Reiner forgot about drinking and returned to bed. He turned up the lamp and read long into the morning.
‘WE’RE NOT ALONE, that’s certain,’ said Gert, poking a spyglass through the curtains in the chilly second storey room of an abandoned manor house across the Avenue of Heroes from Lord Rodick Untern’s palatial residence where Reiner was attempting to spy on Lady Magda’s movements.
It had been surprisingly easy to find a deserted house nearby. Many noble families had fled the crisis in Talabheim for the less affected areas of Crater Lake and Dankerood. They had had their pick of three.
Reiner peeked from the room’s other window, surveying the street. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Those three on the corner, dressed as Taalist brethren. Isn’t the heavy fellow one of von Pfaltzen’s lieutenants?’
‘Aye,’ chuckled Gert. ‘I can see his breastplate under his robes.’ He pointed to the left. ‘And the young knight who has been fussing with his horse’s bridle for the last hour. He was one of Lord Danziger’s men, who fought beside us in the sewers.’
‘So he is,’ said Reiner. ‘See, he has a bandage on the fingers of his right hand.’
‘And the two dandies walking past Magda’s door?’ asked Gert. ‘They are certainly someone’s spies’
‘In the mustard and violet?’ asked Reiner. ‘Aye, I’ve seen those colours before. Lord Scharnholt’s I believe. These Talabheimers do not seem to care to work together.’
‘Aye,’ said Gert. ‘Just like yesterday. None of ‘em wants to share the glory.’
‘A seven-legged beetle,’ muttered Darius from the far corner of the room. He held up something that squirmed in the tweezers from his surgeon’s kit. ‘Even the insects are affected.’
Reiner looked around. ‘Put it down, scholar,’ he said. ‘Sigmar knows what
it might do to you.’
Darius sighed and tossed the thing away. ‘What is my reason for being here?’ he said glumly. ‘You don’t need a scholar. I am of no use in a fight. I have no skills helpful in espionage. I am not the witch you think me. I cannot make light or fire with a word. If you wanted me to deduce the genus of a plant from its leaves or root structure I could do it in an eye blink, but somehow I doubt it will come up.’
‘Would you rather be back in prison, with the noose waiting for you at dawn?’ asked Reiner.
Darius shrugged. ‘As you said to m’lord Valdenheim yesterday, the threat of death loses its force if one’s life isn’t worth living.’
There were footsteps in the hall and Hals pushed in, dressed in a peasant’s smock and straw hat. Reiner raised a questioning eyebrow.
Hals shook his head. ‘Nothing, captain. I took that barrow of leeks and squash we stole around to the kitchen gate like ye asked, and chatted up the cook when she come out, but she don’t know nothing.’ He tossed the hat on a chair and wiped the sweat from his bald head. ‘The mistress ain’t at home. The master is out fighting the madmen. Ain’t cook’s business to ask their business.’ He fished a silver coin from his pouch, grinning. ‘Sold her six leeks and two squash at least, so we’ve some profit from it.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Reiner. ‘That’s something, though. She doesn’t feed a company of men with six leeks and two squash, so Magda didn’t lie about Rodick being away. Magda’s home however, no matter what the cook says. We’ve seen her in the upper windows.’
The door opened again and Franka, Pavel and Dieter came in.
‘Well?’ Reiner asked.
Pavel shrugged. ‘I followed that footman to the boot maker, the draper, a bookseller, and the houses of three different lords. Two of ‘em he gave letters at the front door. At the third he sneaks around back and plays kissing games with the chambermaid.’
‘What were the names of the lords to whom he delivered notes?’ asked Reiner.
