by David Bishop
“Fine,” Kurt said with a shrug. “I haven’t see these ratmen for myself, but I’ve seen what they can do and we should be thankful they stay below ground. Up here on the surface we’re still safe from them.”
Belladonna finished her breakfast and pushed the plate to one side. “For the sake of argument, let’s say these creatures exist. Could they have been responsible for murdering Arullen Silvermoon?” She explained about the two different hairs on the dead elf’s body. “I didn’t get a chance to examine the second hair, but it didn’t appear-well-it didn’t look human.”
“From what I know of the ratmen, they’re not in the habit of attacking lone elves and dumping the bodies above ground,” Kurt said.
“Perhaps the elf blundered into the catacombs and saw them,” Jan speculated. “They pursued him to the surface and killed him above ground. That would explain where Silvermoon’s body was found.”
“He was attacked twice,” Belladonna pointed out. “I’m certain the first attacker was a balding man in their forties, with greying hair, who stabbed Arullen with a blade. The animal attack came second.”
Kurt snapped his fingers, a look of realisation spreading across his face. “Terfel said Henschmann had been transporting contraband through the catacombs and sewers beneath Suiddock, yes?” Belladonna nodded. “That couldn’t have happened with these ratmen down there, unless Henschmann had some kind of arrangement with them. When you examined where the elf’s body was dumped, you said it had been posed. Maybe whoever put it there was sending a message to Henschmann.”
“What kind of message?” she wondered.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know a man who does.” Didier was starving. He’d been shackled to the desk in Kurt’s locked office overnight, but nobody had offered him anything to eat. To make matters worse, somebody nearby was cooking the most delicious smelling food Didier had ever had near his nostrils. He tried calling out for help, but nobody came. What was this, some kind of revenge for murdering that Black Cap in the sewers? He hadn’t meant to kill, it was a lucky shot more than anything else. When Didier heard the office door unlocking, he was ready to tell his captors anything in exchange for food. The watch captain was first through the door, followed by that female Black Cap and the station sergeant. All stared at Didier as if he was something they would cheerfully scrape off their boots. He sniffed the air and realised how rank he must smell. That was no surprise after two days without a bath and much of those days spent wading through liquid sewage. “Well?” he demanded. “When are you going to feed me?”
“We’ll give you all the food you want,” the captain replied.
“About bloody time,” Didier sighed.
“We’ll even arrange for you to get a good soak, maybe some fresh clothes,” the sergeant added.
“Sounds good-but food first, right?”
“We’re planning to chain you up in the basement, next to your friend Cobbius,” the woman said.
That stopped Didier short. “Abram Cobbius-you’ve arrested him? He’s here, in the station?”
“Brought him in this morning,” she smiled. “He must have gotten bored inside the guild headquarters and decided to go for a stroll-just as you predicted. We’ll make sure to tell him how helpful you were once he sobers up. I’m sure the two of you will have plenty to talk about when Cobbius hears that.”
“You can’t! He’ll murder me!”
“Much like you murdered Verletzung,” the captain observed.
“Who?”
“The watchman you slaughtered in the sewer-remember?”
“Of course I remember, I was-” Didier broke down, fear and hunger and despair getting the better of him. Once he’d stopped sobbing he glared at his tormentors. “What do you want?”
“That’s better,” the captain said, closing and locking the door. “Tell us what we need to know, and we’ll get you food, fresh clothes and a bath.”
“Waste our time and we’ll chain you up beside your friend Cobbius,” the sergeant added.
“Fine, whatever-ask your questions.”
“Tell us about those creatures in the catacombs. Tell us about the ratmen.”
Didier soiled himself at the mere mention of that name. Raufbold met Henschmann’s messenger by the station privy not long after dawn. “Tell your boss Captain Schnell has arrested Abram Cobbius. The drunken fool’s still sleeping off his hangover, but that won’t last forever. If Henschmann wants Abram silenced or sprung, he’d better do it soon.” The messenger passed a rolled strip of paper through a gap in the privy wall, both ends pinched shut. Raufbold tore open the tiny package and emptied the contents directly into his mouth, using a grubby finger to rub crimson shade into his gums. The messenger was already gone when the drugs kicked in. Kurt refused to let Deschamp clean himself until the prisoner talked, so he talked, exhausting what little he knew about the malignant ratmen. “Henschmann has been using the sewers for years to shift contraband during daylight. Not long after the last watch captain in Suiddock tried to drown himself, some of Henschmann’s thugs discovered a stairwell leading down into the catacombs. There’d always been rumours about an underground city, but nobody had believed it. Henschmann sent two dozen men down to explore it-only one came back alive. He was an emissary for the ratmen, infected with some plague that ate the flesh from his bones. He stayed alive long enough to deliver their message: find the heart stone, or all of Marienburg would suffer the same fate.”
“Find the heart stone? What’s that?” Kurt asked.
Deschamp shook his head. “Nobody knew. Henschmann sent another group of men down, all wearing armour and with enough weapons to start a small war. They all vanished, except one. He crawled back up to the sewers, carrying a scroll, with words on it written in blood. Henschmann never let anyone else read it, but after that we started leaving human sacrifices at the entrance to the catacombs.”
“Like Fingers Blake?”
The prisoner nodded. “Your Black Cap saw me take the body into the sewers, and followed me down to the catacombs. He confronted me as I was leaving. I didn’t have a choice, I had to kill him.”
“Spare us the defence pleas,” Kurt snapped. “Why was Blake chosen as a sacrifice for the ratmen?”
Deschamp shrugged. “I was following orders from Cobbius. He did Henschmann’s dirty work, no questions asked. I was told to search Blake’s body for some brooch before taking him to the catacombs, but I didn’t find anything on his corpse.”
Kurt took a step back, realisation rushing through him. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together at last, but the picture they formed was far more frightening than anything he’d imagined. The murder of Arullen Silvermoon was no longer a simple slaying. There was something far more significant at stake here than his career in the Watch or even the future of Three Penny Bridge station. He wanted to share his suspicions with Belladonna and Jan, but knew he was better to keep those fears to himself for the moment. Both colleagues had noticed his reaction, but were wise enough not to comment on it in front of Deschamp. Instead Jan took charge of the interrogation, while Belladonna observed the prisoner’s reaction to each question, searching for answers beyond his words.
“What do the ratmen want?” Jan demanded. “Where is this stone?”
“I don’t know,” Deschamp insisted. “I’m an errand boy, a hired hand. You want to know more about those creatures, try talking to Abram Cobbius. He’s seen them, I haven’t.”
“When did he see them?”
The prisoner shrugged. “A few weeks ago. They’ve been getting bolder, coming closer and closer to the surface. That’s why I had to drag your watchman’s body up to the street. Henschmann gave orders forbidding the dumping of bodies in the sewers. We still left the human sacrifices down in the catacombs, but nothing more than that. Henschmann didn’t want us feeding the enemy, that’s what Cobbius told me.”
“What do these creatures look like?” Belladonna asked.
“I told you, I don’t
know-I haven’t seen them, have I?”
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”
“Why would I lie?” Deschamp said in a whimper. “I’ll be dead before Geheimnistag.”
“Why are you so certain?”
He looked at her through weeping eyes. “You don’t understand, do you? Henschmann can’t leave Abram Cobbius in your custody, he knows too much. The League will attack this place before nightfall. If they can’t get Abram back, they’ll murder him-or have him murdered. Anybody who gets in their way is as good as dead.” Deschamp turned away. “You’re all dead, but you haven’t realised it yet. I have.”
“How can you be so certain?” Jan snarled.
“At least one of your watchmen is a traitor, if not more of than one. That’s how Henschmann works. He buys the complicity of his enemies. If he can’t bribe those at the top, he’ll subvert those below them and conquer from within. It’s how he took control of the League, how he bought the Stadsraad. It’s the reason he employs Abram Cobbius, as the first step in a campaign to control the guild as well.”
“Next you’ll be telling me he wants to turn the watch into his plaything.”
Deschamp snorted and shook his head. “He already has! Taal’s teeth, it was probably his idea to have this station reopened, part of some greater scheme you can’t grasp. All of you, you’re pawns in his game, to be used and sacrificed as necessary. Henschmann is playing at a level you cannot comprehend, because you’ve no idea what’s at stake. If you did, you wouldn’t be foolish enough to stay here.” He glanced round the room. “This place and everyone in it, you’re all at his mercy, one way or another. Half the watch captains in this city are on Casanova’s payroll and most of the others are being manipulated by him, whether they know it or not. Even your commander isn’t immune from Casanova.”
Jan shook his head, dismissing the prisoner’s claims. “I’ve never heard so much nonsense in my life. Next you’ll be telling me the sky is green and Henschmann can command the moon to do his will!”
“Believe what you like,” Deschamp spat. “I know the truth.” Kurt emerged from his office, followed by Jan and Belladonna. The sergeant went into the kitchen and apologised to Gerta before asking her to deal with Deschamp. She agreed, although her language was less than ladylike when she discovered the rank state of the prisoner. The captain waited until Gerta had taken Deschamp downstairs before talking with Jan and Belladonna. “I think I know why Arullen Silvermoon was down in the catacombs, why he got murdered.”
“He was a sacrifice to the ratmen?” Jan suggested.
“In a way.” The captain started to explain but stopped himself. “In all honesty, it’s better for you both-safer for you-if you don’t know more. Not yet, anyway.”
“You’re talking in riddles,” Belladonna observed. “It’s nearly as bad as a conversation with Otto.”
Kurt nodded. “You’re right, I need to talk with Otto.”
“No, I didn’t mean-”
“Can you find him and bring him here?”
“I suppose so,” she replied. “When do you-”
“Now,” Kurt cut in. “The sooner, the better.”
“Fine!” Belladonna stalked off down the stairs, frustration evident on her features.
“Well, you’ve gotten her out of the way,” Jan said, “though it’ll take some apology to calm her down later. So, what did you want to tell me you couldn’t tell her?”
“Nothing,” Kurt replied. “I do need to talk with Otto. That’s it.”
His sergeant wasn’t accepting that. “Something Deschamp said scared you. What was it?”
Kurt rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Honestly, it’s safer if you don’t know.”
Jan shook his head. “I told you this place would be the death of one of us.”
“I’m still hopeful you’re wrong about that.”
“Captain!” Raufbold shouted up the stairs. “There’s a halfling here to see you!”
Kurt and Jan went down to reception where Silvia Vink was waiting. She was still dressing in mourning black, but she was carrying a white scroll in her tiny hands. “Is it true what people are saying on the street? That you’ve arrested Abram Cobbius and charged him with my husband’s murder?”
“Yes, it’s true. He’s also facing at least one more count of murder, along with other crimes.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t believe you would do it, that anyone would ever do it. To meet a man who keeps his promises in this world is difficult enough, but more so when you’re a halfling. Thank you, Captain Schnell, from the bottom of my heart. And my husband thanks you too, wherever he is now.”
“You’re welcome,” Kurt replied, quite moved by the power of her words. He expected Mrs. Vink to leave, but she remained where she was, her hands quaking. “Was there something else?”
The halfling nodded, tears in her eyes. “Knowing what you’ve done for me, it makes this so much more difficult, but it is the price I had pay to get my husband’s fish market back.”
“I don’t understand…”
She handed the white scroll to him. “They told me to deliver this to you personally. In return I’ve been given the deeds for the fish market next door. It’ll reopen after Geheimnistag.”
“It’s wonderful news about the market, but why not reopen sooner?” Kurt had been planning to raid the fishmonger’s premises next to the station, having learned what was packed inside the fish, but the market had remained closed all morning. Mrs. Vink was shaking her head.
“I doubt anyone will be crossing Three Penny Bridge today or tomorrow, let alone stopping to buy fish. Not until after-Well, read the message and you’ll understand.” She pressed a soft, warm palm against Kurt’s much larger hands. “Goodbye, Captain Schnell. It was an honour to have known you.” With that she hurried out of the station and back across the bridge to her house. The front door slammed behind her, followed by the sound of bolts being rammed home to shut out the world.
“What was all that about?” Raufbold asked in a bemused voice.
“I’m not sure,” Kurt admitted. He walked over to the station entrance and looked out. By this time of the day the cobbles of Three Penny Bridge were normally crowded by citizens and merchants, vagrants and visitors, all trying to get from Stoessel to Riddra or vice versa. Instead the span was all but deserted, and those who were using it hurried past, their eyes resolutely looking forwards, none of them daring to glance at the station. Kurt unrolled the scroll and read the message, before passing it to his sergeant without comment. Jan studied the words, his face hardening as they sunk in. “You might as well read that out so everyone can hear it,” Kurt urged. “Better they all know now, rather than finding out from gossip and whispers on the streets.”
“You’re sure?” Jan asked. The captain nodded, so Jan did as he was told. “To the captain and watchmen of Three Penny Bridge station: release Abram Cobbius by sunset or suffer the consequences.”
“In other words-surrender or die,” Kurt said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Otto had been praying for guidance when Belladonna came to his temple. For days he had been aware of a darkness lingering at the edges of his thoughts, a malign presence that troubled him beyond words. He had felt this presence before, but never in such strength and never so savage in its hunger. Something bad was coming to Suiddock, something that threatened to destroy much of the district. If Suiddock fell, most of the city would succumb soon after. The district was akin to a heartbeat for Marienburg the pulsing centre of the city’s merchant economy. Destroy that and all of Marienburg would suffer-and when Marienburg suffered, so did the rest of the Empire. Otto shuddered, as if the darkness had slouched a step closer. He jumped when a fist banged against the temple door. It was a relief when he saw Belladonna outside.
“The captain wants you,” she snapped. Otto opened the door to admit her, but the Black Cap remained outside on the step. “Now.” Perplexed by her anger and urgency, the pries
t pulled on a cloak and slipped the hood over his head before following her to Three Penny Bridge. Black clouds were gathering on the horizon, a dark portent of a coming storm. They arrived to find the station in uproar, the captain shouting at his recruits for silence. The watchmen appeared frightened and the reason became apparent to Otto as soon as he entered the building.
“We have no choice about this,” Kurt yelled at his men. “If we cave in to Henschmann’s threats, the Watch will be a joke in Suiddock for the rest of our lives-and in many other parts of the city, too.”
“I’d rather be a live joke than a dead hero,” Faulheit shouted back, several of the others loudly agreeing with him. “You can’t expect us to stay here, knowing the League is coming to kill us.”
“Henschmann would not dare openly attack a watch station,” the captain retorted. “Even if he does, I’ve already sent a request to every station in the city for reinforcements. We’ll be ready for any attack.”
“How do you know when the reinforcements will arrive?” Raufbold demanded.
“I don’t,” Kurt said. “But I don’t believe the commander would let us be slaughtered by the League. He knows it would be political suicide for his career -and if there’s one thing the commander cares more about, it’s his own career!” That brought a murmur of agreement from the Black Caps. Everybody in the city knew the commander’s priorities and what Kurt said rang true. “We do have a choice here,” he pleaded with his men, “but it isn’t an easy one. We can cut and run, be branded as cowards for the rest of our lives. Or we can stand and fight, proving everybody else wrong in the process. I know I’d rather die fighting for something I believed in, than live as a coward, afraid of my own shadow.”
Otto studied the watchmen’s face. The tide was turning, but they didn’t look convinced yet.
“Even if we run away, Henschmann’s thugs can still find us, still have their revenge. Do you honestly believe all this will blow over if we do as he says and slink away, tails between our legs? Or do you think it’s more likely he’ll have us hunted down and slain, one by one, as an example to the rest of the city? If Henschmann lets us go, he’ll lose face-and he never lets anyone who shames him survive long.”
