by Paton, Chris
I watched Seffi walk down the car, waiting until she stepped onto the platform before making my way to the emissary’s car. The sodium lamps flickered in each of the cars as Wallendorf's men prepared for the return journey to Frankfurt. The playing cards and bottles of schnapps on the tables suggested they were going to enjoy themselves. I stopped outside the engineering car, peered through the window and shook my head before entering.
“Herr F-finsch,” Dieter looked up, resting the hammer on his shoulder and laying the nail flat upon the lid of the wooden crate. “We are almost f-finished.”
“You have put the emissary in a crate?”
“Ja,” Dieter frowned. “How else will you transport it?” He looked to the three men working on the crate for support.
“Never mind,” I walked around the car. “Is it fuelled?”
“Ja.”
“The boiler lit?”
“The pilot light is burning, ja.”
I stopped by the rack of tools behind the workbench, tapping at an empty space on the wall. “Do you have a herringbone wrench, Dieter? One I can take with me?”
“The emissary has one inside its thigh.”
“Good,” I smiled. “I was just checking.” Walking over to Dieter, I stopped by his side, waiting as he hammered the last nail into the lid of the crate. “I expect you will be pleased to return to steamracers?”
“Ja, maybe.” Dieter lay the hammer flat on the lid. “But I have enjoyed working on the emissary, if-f only f-for a little while.”
I took a step backwards as Dieter and the three Wallendorf men secured the crate with great chains attached to a pulley in the roof of the car. Two of the men opened the side of the car, ratcheting the two doors open with quick turns of the handles at each end of the car. Moonlight flooded the interior. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes, searching the platform for Seffi, only to find her standing right outside the car by the side of a horse-drawn cart, with a covering of hay in the bed and rough-hewn sides angling upwards. The driver of the cart looked from the cart to the crate and back again. Wringing his hands, he said something to Seffi. She pulled another coin from her pocket and flipped it into his hands. The driver walked to the head of the horses and held their halters while the pulley screeched with the weight of the emissary. Wallendorf’s men slid the iron runners along the sleeves and out over the platform. The crate swayed above the deck of the train car and the men pushed it out over the platform, turning it at the corners to line it up with the cart. The pulley screeched again as the emissary was lowered onto the cart, the driver blowing into the horses nostrils and patting their necks as the emissary settled onto the thin bed of hay.
Thanking Dieter and the men, I stepped down from the car and onto the platform. Seffi joined me. Leaning close to my ear, she whispered, “You're forgetting something, Karl.”
“What?” I patted my pockets, stared at her moonlit face.
“Herr F-finsch?” Dieter leaned out of the car. “Your harness and controller. You will need them, I think.”
“Yes,” I glanced at Seffi before turning to retrieve the controller from the young engineer. “I wouldn't have gotten far without them, eh?”
“Nein,” Dieter smiled.
“Thank you, Dieter.” Shrugging the knapsack to the platform floor, I pulled on the harness, adjusting the straps as Seffi lifted the knapsack onto my back once more.
“You can put the controller on the cart, but we will have to walk alongside or behind the emissary, and I want you to wear your knapsack in case we have to run.”
“Run?”
“It pays to be prepared, Karl. There is enough food in the knapsack for three days. An extra wool sweater, gloves and a hat. We should be able to find water along the way.”
“Is the weather bad here, Seffi?”
“We are going into the mountains,” Seffi pointed at the clustered peaks, clawing at the clouds above the treeline beyond the city walls. “It will be cold, Karl.”
I paused to stare at the mountains. On the last mountain Seffi and I had climbed, we had been pursued by armed men trying their best to kill us. I wondered what lay in wait for us this time. Tightening the straps of my knapsack, I nodded that I was ready and fell in beside Seffi as she walked behind the cart.
The driver led us out of the railyard and through a series of winding streets to the gates of Brașov. Six city guards surrounded the cart as we approached. The captain of the guard beckoned to the driver, taking him to one side as his men held the horses and kept an eye on Seffi and I. Seffi moved closer to the where the guard talked with the driver. After a few minutes she returned to my side and whispered in my ear.
“My Romanian is not great, Karl, but they are less interested in the crate and more concerned that the driver is thinking of leaving the city at night. They said something about a full moon and that he should know better.” Seffi was silent for a moment. “I don't want to stay in the city tonight. I want this assignment to be over as quickly as possible, Karl. I have studied the map. If the driver will take us as far as the path leading into the mountains, I can get us to the inn where Schleiermacher suggested we might find someone to take us to the Count. What do you think about that?”
“You're asking me?”
“Yes,” Seffi frowned. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” I lowered my voice as the driver and the captain of the guard approached. “Just unexpected.”
The captain spoke for the driver in broken English. He was no less difficult to understand than Archie, and I smiled at the memory. Seffi listened to the captain while studying the driver.
“I have explained it is not good to travel,” the captain flicked his finger at the cart. “I not know what you have in crate, but it not matter. It is best you stay here tonight.”
“We must get to the inn tonight.” Seffi rested her hands upon her hips.
“What inn?”
“The Carpathian.”
“No,” the captain glanced at his men. Shaking his head, he gripped the driver's arm. “You no go to The Carpathian. Not this night.”
“Yes,” the driver nodded. “You are right.” He gestured to Seffi and I to follow him to the rear of the cart. “The captain is worried and I understand. There are things,” he paused, searching for the right word. “Wolfs you call them, I think.”
“Wolves?” I turned to Seffi. “Did you know?”
“There are always wolves in the mountains, Karl.”
“Yes, but not like these wolfs.” The driver leaned around Seffi to look for the captain. “He is worried for these wolfs, but I am not so scared. You pay well and I want my money. But the captain is stepbrother of my cousin. He is family. I had forgotten about the moon,” he looked up, “but I will take you to the track to the inn, it is not so far. From there you can take my cart yourselfs. Then I can come back before long and the captain will be happy. I will pick up the cart in the morning. What do you say?”
“We can do that,” Seffi agreed, “if the track is well-marked?”
“Yes, it is easy. I know this. Come,” the driver gestured to the front of the cart. “I will take us to another gate. It is not far. I know the guards there. They are not so frightened as this captain.”
As the driver placated the captain and turned the cart around I walked beside Seffi, still curious at her interest in my own opinion. Things had certainly changed between us, and the feeling of loneliness was beginning to fade. I felt for the thimblestone in my pocket and could almost imagine it getting heavier with each mile we walked together.
The driver drove the cart along narrow streets before arriving at a smaller gate with just one guard. The guard waved us through with barely a word, grunting something about the cold creeping down from the mountains. Soon, the dressed granite walls of the city receded and the shadows of trees lining our route shifted in the moonlight. An hour later we stopped at a fork in the road. The driver jumped down from the cart and joined us as we slowed to a stop behind it.
&nbs
p; “This is the track. If you follow it all the way, you will come to the inn. It is easy, there are no other tracks or paths to confuse you. Leave my horses at the inn. The innkeeper, Mihail, will stable them for the night. He knows me.”
“Thank you,” Seffi paid the driver.
“It is nothing,” he paused as the treetops rustled in the wind. “The wolfs...”
“We are not worried about wolves,” Seffi pushed the leather purse into her pocket.
“But these are not normal wolfs,” the driver started.
“Thank you for your concern, but we are not worried. Are we, Karl?”
The shadows beneath the trees grew darker as I stared at them. I looked at Seffi for reassurance. There, in the moonlight, her hands resting upon her hips and her black hair tickling her shoulders, Seffi looked at me and smiled. I remembered the way she tackled the Danish thugs on the streets of Frankfurt, the firefight on the slopes of Suilven, and all of a sudden, the thought of a few wolfs didn't seem so bad. Besides, I turned to look at the crate, we had the emissary.
“We will be fine.” I nodded at the driver. “Thank you.”
“Good,” the driver reached into the back of the cart and removed a satchel and a walking stick. “Then I will go home.”
We waited until the sound of the driver's footsteps were as quiet as his shadow was small before walking to the front of the cart and climbing aboard. The cart rocked under our combined weight. The horses fidgeted.
“Have you ever driven a cart, Karl?”
“No,” I took hold of the reins. “I don't imagine it will be difficult.” Slapping the reins in a soft whipping motion, I clicked my tongue and the horses started down the track. Seffi laughed, her teeth spread wide in the moonlight, her eyes twinkling brighter than the stars. “It is easier than I thought.” Settling into the driver's seat, I encouraged the horses with soft clicks of my tongue and a reassuring slap of the reins between my fingers.
Seffi's smile faded as she looked to each side of the track, staring at the shadows and sniffing at the wind. She turned around to look at the rear of the cart.
“How far is it to the inn, Seffi?”
“What?”
“How far? We forgot to ask the driver.”
“It looked like four or five miles on the map. The track should narrow and get a little steeper if I have read the map correctly.” Seffi leaned forwards, staring past me at my side of the track.
“What are you looking for?” I tried my best Romanian accent. “Wolfs?”
“Actually...” Seffi paused at the sight of a large grey blur darting across the path in front of us. The horses reared, skitting from one side of the path to the other until the wheels of the cart on my side splintered against a large boulder and the cart tilted to a halt. The horses jerked forwards, tugging at the harness and pulling the reins from my hands.
“Seffi,” I shouted as she leaped to the ground, a knife in each hand.
A grey shape, a mass of muscle, fur and teeth, rushed Seffi from the right of the track, the low branches of the pine trees snapping as it burst from cover. Seffi slipped to her left, parrying the wolf's claw with a short thrust of her knife. The wolf checked its attack, leaped back two feet, settled on its haunches and studied its quarry. The cart lunged forwards as the horses reared at the sight and smell of two more wolves running along the track towards us.
Stumbling to my feet, I steadied myself with a hand on the wooden rail in front of me. I looked along the track behind us, paling at the sight of three more wolves, their fur electric in the moonlight. The driver was right, these were no ordinary wolfs.
“Seffi,” I scrambled on top of the crate as the horses jerked at the cart. “Cut the horses free.” I looked up as Seffi backed up towards the horses, the wolf shadowing her every step. The heady smell of musk, dirt and moss flooded along the track. The horses lurched forwards as the wolves in front of the cart bared their teeth and snarled. The cart toppled to one side and I threw myself clear of the crate as it slid onto the path, crushing the controller beneath it.
I flicked my head to one side at a cry from Seffi followed by an inhuman howl of pain. I climbed up the side of the cart to see the first wolf limping with Seffi's knife embedded in its paw. With the second knife, Seffi sawed at the horses harness, releasing one beast after the other. The horses galloped along the track, side by side, mad with the scent of wolf. I turned at the sound of claws raking wood as the two wolves behind me leaped onto the cart.
“Karl,” Seffi staggered in front of the cart, a bloody hand clasped upon her shoulder. “We need the emissary.”
Backing away from the wolves, I shouted to Seffi, “The controller is in splinters. I won't be able to tell it what to do.” Wolf spit shone in the moonlight as the wolves slavered their way towards me.
“You don't need it,” Seffi grunted as the first wolf gripped the hilt of her knife between its teeth and pulled it free. Letting go of her shoulder, she assumed a low fighting stance, pulling the last of her three knives from her belt. “Remember the mountain.”
I flicked my eyes from the wolves to the crate. The stench of wolf bit at my nose. I looked at the crate again, took a quick breath.
“Wuotan,” I called out. “We need you.”
The front of the crate erupted in a splinter of wood and brass. Steam and smoke blew out of the holes, dissipating in the moonlight as the emissary kicked and punched its way free of the crate, kicking its way onto the track in a staccato of clicks and whirs. The wolves paused, turned to meet their new quarry, bared their teeth and pounced.
Chapter 7
“Seffi,” I leaped from the cart to the track as the emissary closed the brass fingers of one hand around the throat of a wolf, batting another into the treeline with the other. Crouching by Seffi's side, I took one of her knives and thrust it at the face of the wolf edging towards her. Seffi slumped against the cart, her skin paling in the moonlight, blood pooling from her jacket onto the ground.
Behind us, the emissary hurled the dead wolf from its hand into the trees before clanking around the cart. The wolf snarling at the tip of my knife turned to face the emissary, taking the full brunt of the emissary's cloven foot in its jaw. A splintered cloud of teeth hung in the air as the wolf sailed across the track to fall, crumpled and broken, in the dew-burdened sedge opposite the cart. The emissary turned its head with a click and whir to face the two remaining wolves as they pawed at the ground, their black eyes fidgeting from one wolf corpse to the next. Steaming to a halt at the front of the broken cart, the emissary maintained a vigil, its head clicking first left then right as I dropped the knife and turned my attention to Seffi.
“Seffi?” I took the knife from her hand and reached for her jacket.
“Don't,” she lifted her hand. “It will be all right. It's not deep.”
“Yes, Seffi, it is. Look at all the blood. I have to have a look.” Seffi forced a laugh as I tugged at the sleeve of her jacket.
“So it's my turn to be wounded.” She placed a hand over mine. “I told you we should have taken Schleiermacher's offer. We should have run, Karl.”
“I know,” I took a breath and faced her. “I am sorry. It is my fault.”
“Never mind,” Seffi removed her hand. She pushed away from the cart and dipped her shoulder. “Here, take if off.” The moonlight revealed a three-clawed gash, dark with blood but for a single speck of bone shining white. Seffi turned her head to look at it. “Gah, it's deep. And I’ll bet those claws carry all kinds of bacteria. You'll have to wash it, Karl.”
“With what?” I looked to both sides of the track. Save the dew and the wolf blood, the ground was dry and bare.
“There must be something,” Seffi paused at the sound of a hinge squealing open. Following her gaze I turned to see the emissary open a small hatch in its side, tapping the door with a stubby brass finger. Bending to peer inside I found a small brass spigot with an enamel cup clamped beneath it. I turned the tap, waving my hand at the steam to see
a stream of boiling water fill the cup.
“Amazing,” I turned to Seffi. “I never knew he had this.”
“You never did read the manual, did you?”
“No.”
“Typical man.” Seffi lowered herself to the floor.
“We could make tea or...”
“Karl.”
“Yes?”
“Don't get too excited. If we drain the emissary for the sake of a hot beverage, it will run out of steam.”
“Of course,” I nodded as I closed the spigot and removed the cup of hot water. I put it down on the ground to cool. Seffi closed her eyes.
“Are the wolves still watching us?”
“Yes.” I stepped to one side of the emissary. The two wolves sat on their haunches and stared. “There were five. Two are dead and,” I stepped over Seffi's legs to look at the treeline on the other side of the cart. “One is gone – the grey one that clawed you.”
“Will he be back, I wonder?” Seffi opened her eyes and dipped a finger in the water. “It is a little cooler. Help me rinse this wound.” Seffi winced as I poured the warm water onto her clawed flesh. The heat loosed any coagulation and I stopped. “Keep going, Karl.”
“But the blood is running free again.”
“Better that than a shoulder full of bacteria. Clean it and bind it. It will close again.”
I looked up at the scratch of gears to find the emissary peering into the wound, our heads so close I could feel the vibration of parts moving beneath its brass armour. The glow from the emissary's lodestone lit Seffi's wound and I directed the last of the water at a foul-looking clump of dirt and gristle.
“Thank you,” I nodded at the emissary.
The green glow dimmed for a second before shining anew on Seffi's shoulder. Moving around the emissary's body, I pushed the cup into the clamp and closed the hinged door. A quick search of our knapsacks revealed two large bandages and I tied them around Seffi's shoulder under the emissary's watchful eye.
