“Very clever,” Rudi said, trying not to resent the way he’d apparently been used as a decoy. “But supposing we’d all been killed?”
“The boss can always hire another bodyguard,” Mathilde said, as if the answer to that one was obvious. “Plenty more like me in the ’dorf.”
That wasn’t what Rudi had meant, but he let the matter drop, in favour of taking in as much as he could of the garden before they moved inside. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be in Altdorf, but he doubted that he was going to see anything so pleasant for a long time to come. Even the ever-present stench of the streets had receded, along with the endless clamour of voices, so that here it was almost possible to forget that you were surrounded by thousands and thousands of people. The high walls surrounding the estate obliterated them as if they had never existed. Even where other buildings backed directly on to von Eckstein’s private preserve, as they did by the gateway, their windows had been bricked up to ensure the nobleman’s privacy.
“Through here,” Mathilde said, leading the way though the profusion of outbuildings towards a small door in the main house. Here, there were more servants to be seen, men and women in matching livery, or plain garments protected by aprons. Rudi began to smell food, and was abruptly reminded of how long it had been since his last meal.
The trio of outcasts from Kohlstadt followed her inside, and as they did so, Rudi was shaken by the presentiment that their paths were diverging again. Fritz followed his fiancé with calm assurance, despite never having been here before. He clearly felt that he belonged, and had no doubts or qualms about his future. Hanna would be following the route laid down by her mystical talents, wherever it led. The only thing he could be sure of was that it was somewhere he couldn’t follow, and his own quest was nearing completion. If von Eckstein could really help him find the von Kariens, he would at last find out where he came from, and what Greta Reifenstahl had meant by her mysterious words: You do have a destiny.
Absorbed in his thoughts, he paid scant attention to where they were going, and soon found himself lost in a bewildering maze of corridors.
Mathilde seemed to know where they were, though, and Fritz seemed indifferent, content to trust her. Hanna looked around, taking in their simple surroundings, looking a trifle disappointed.
“I thought it was going to be a bit more opulent than this,” she said. The corridors were narrow, just wide enough for three people to walk abreast, and their walls were plain whitewashed plaster, pierced at intervals by well-crafted but unornamented wooden doors. Even Magnus’ house in Kohlstadt had been grander than this, although it was a little larger than a peasant’s cottage in comparison. Rudi wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting to find inside the nobleman’s mansion, but it certainly wasn’t anything as austere as this.
As the little group moved on they encountered a steady flow of servants travelling in both directions, apparently in accordance with some kind of protocol governing who gave way to whom. So far as Rudi could tell, the servants in livery generally took precedence over those without, and among those in uniform, the ones whose attire was more elaborate clearly expected the others to stand aside. Regardless of their ranking among themselves, all of the domestic staff gave way to Mathilde, with good grace, sullen resentment, or, in a few cases, unmistakable trepidation.
“These are just the servants’ corridors,” Mathilde explained, with a trace of amusement. “We can use the main ones if we like, but this way’s quicker.” Rudi surmised that her position was somehow different to that of the household servants, despite being just as much an employee as they were, but the distinction was beyond him. “Through here.”
She slipped through one of the plain narrow doors, indistinguishable to Rudi’s eyes from any of the others, which led into a long, sunlit passageway. The contrast to the area they’d just left was extraordinary. In place of plain wood and neatly polished floorboards, there was a gallery wide enough and high enough for two horsemen to have ridden down side by side. The floor was gleaming oak, against which their boot soles echoed, with a strip of carpet two yards wide down the centre, woven into an intricate pattern of interlocking triangles in muted shades of red. Items of furniture stood against the wood-panelled walls, dressers and settles for the most part, with a few delicate china vases on carved occasional tables of exquisite workmanship. On the side of the room they’d entered, these were interspersed with imposing portraits of aristocratic-looking men and women that Rudi assumed were von Eckstein’s forebears, easily the full size of their original sitters, even those that included a mount of some kind. On the other, windows of leaded glass stretched almost to ceiling height, providing restful views of the garden outside.
“This is the short gallery,” Mathilde explained. “It runs along the edge of the wing.”
“Now that’s impressive,” Hanna conceded. Looking as if she’d just won a hand of cards, Mathilde led the way through a pair of double doors at the far end, which seemed, to Rudi’s astonished eyes to be scarcely smaller than the gates they’d entered the estate by, and into a wide hall. Doors led off in several directions, all panelled in a strange dark wood that he failed to recognise, and the furniture and portraits seemed more functional and muted, blending subtly into their background. This was clearly not a space in which anyone was expected to linger. Their boots rang on polished marble, and the temperature of the air dropped a little, sharp with the chill of the stone.
Without hesitating, Mathilde led the way up a wide, curving staircase, the treads of which were covered with a rich blue carpet in which stars and comets had been worked in yellow thread. Every fourth or fifth comet had a second tail, although whether that was an attempt to invoke the blessing of Sigmar on the household, or simply a matter of aesthetics, Rudi had no idea.
“You get used to it,” Mathilde said, her voice echoing from the dome above the stairwell. Craning his head to look up the four-storey abyss, Rudi felt a momentary twinge of vertigo. The concavity had been painted the deep, dark blue of the midnight sky, and tiny pinpoints of light seemed to dance up there, picking out the familiar outlines of the constellations.
“That’s right,” Fritz agreed, apparently as indifferent to the splendour of their surroundings as his companion, but then he’d been in the nobleman’s employ for some months, long enough to become inured to the signs of wealth that left Rudi’s head reeling. Before he could think of a reply, Mathilde led the way down a short corridor, paused at the threshold of a door, indistinguishable to Rudi’s eye from any of the others, and knocked with a degree of restraint that quite surprised him.
“Enter,” a voice called, in the same easy-going tone that Rudi recalled from a single encounter in Marienburg, and he wasn’t particularly surprised to see von Eckstein looking up from an exquisitely inlaid desk of polished walnut wood as Mathilde pushed open the door. He set down the sheaf of papers in his hand. “Ah, that was quick. Did you have any trouble?”
“No more than we expected,” Mathilde said, ushering Rudi and Hanna into the room ahead of her, “but we must have had a leak somewhere in Marienburg. The Fog Walkers made a play for the boat before Fritz even joined it.”
“I take it from your relaxed attitude to the news that they didn’t get what they were after,” von Eckstein said, rising to greet his unexpected guests. “Rudi and Hanna, isn’t it?” He bowed to Hanna, the faint tilt of his head precisely calculated to balance the good manners due to a lady with the clear and vast gulf between their relative social positions. “I’m pleased to see you recovered.” After a moment’s confusion, Rudi remembered that von Eckstein’s last sight of the girl had been as he carried her unconscious form back to the tavern they were staying in. The stress of the fight in the gambling den where they’d met had triggered another magical seizure, as the power that Gerhard’s talisman had dammed up in her had fought for instinctive release.
“Quite recovered, thank you.” Hanna answered mechanically, her attention apparently directed e
lsewhere in the room, although Rudi’s remained fixed on the nobleman whose privacy they’d so abruptly invaded. He couldn’t imagine what had caught her interest so completely. One of the many curios littering the warm and well-appointed chamber, he supposed. Either that, or the shelves of books lining the walls. There were dozens of them; more titles than he would have believed existed, although their spines were too far away for him to read what they might contain.
“Good.” The graf raised a quizzical eyebrow in Fritz’s direction. “I assume you have a good reason to be holding your reunion with your friends in my study, rather than your own quarters?” Fritz nodded.
“Yes, sir. They were travelling on the Reikmaiden. If it wasn’t for them, the Walkers would have snatched the packet. Twice.”
“So we thought you might want to talk to them,” Mathilde added. “See if they know anything useful.”
“I see.” Von Eckstein nodded, and turned to a seat in the corner. For the first time, Rudi became aware that he already had another guest in his study, and a strange sense of foreboding washed over him. “If you’ll excuse me, Magister Hollobach, this sounds as if I ought to give it some attention.”
“By all means.” The man stood, in a single fluid movement, and Rudi felt the hairs on his scalp begin to stir. His skin was pale, almost translucent in the bright winter sunshine falling through the windows, and the thin frosting of stubble on his shaved head wasn’t so much white as simply devoid of colour. This, and the fact that his seat had been in the middle of a shaft of sunlight falling into the room, had been enough to fool the eye, making his clothing appear simply as an abstract shape draped over the chair. Only in retrospect did it fill out into a well-cut robe of a purple so deep that it was nearly black, nestled around a body almost skeletal in its thinness. The clasps were a curious yellowish white, and carefully carved into the shape of an hourglass leaning against a skull.
Despite the thrill of horror the thought sparked in him, Rudi couldn’t quite shake the idea that they had been made from human bone. “Our business was concluded in any case. My only reason for delaying was the pleasure of your company.” He smiled, the pale visage acquiring an expression of self-deprecatory good humour. “No doubt you’d far rather spend time with these lively young people than a fusty old Amethyst magister reeking of grave dust. I’m sure I would in your position.”
“Nonsense.” Von Eckstein shook his head, smiling affably. “Where else am I going to find another chess player of your calibre?”
“One you can beat, you mean?” The cadaverous wizard nodded a greeting to the newcomers, and started for the door. “I’ll be waiting for your message with interest.”
“Wait.” To Rudi’s amazement, and, so far as he could tell that of everyone else in the room, Hanna took a step forwards to impede his progress. “I need to talk to you.”
“Are you sure?” the wizard asked, with an air of faint surprise. “I can assure you, young lady, my order is most definitely not for you.”
Ignoring the looks of astonishment on the faces of everyone else in the room, he and Hanna continued their conversation as if no one else was present.
Hanna dug a sheaf of parchment out of her satchel. Rudi recognised the seal on it as that of Baron Hendryk’s College of Navigation and Sea Magics, the great university in Marienburg that, Wastelanders at least believed, rivalled the more famous centres of learning in Altdorf and Nuln.
“I was a student of magic in Marienburg,” Hanna said, waving the papers in front of the wizard’s face, “and I’ve come all the way to Altdorf to study at the Imperial Colleges.” For a moment, a flicker of desperation appeared in her eyes. “Please, I need to find a refuge. I’ve already escaped the witch hunters once, and I might not be so lucky next time.”
“Well, you’ve certainly made a courageous decision.” The Amethyst mage nodded encouragingly. “A wise one, too, despite the risks you took in coming here. The training you’d get in Marienburg would be flawed at best. Little more use than hedge magic. Of course, the witch hunters wouldn’t recognise a licence issued by anyone other than an Imperial College in any case.” That meant that Kris wouldn’t be coming to Altdorf any time soon, Rudi realised, and then felt ashamed at the brief flare of exultation that had accompanied the thought.
“That’s why I need someone to help me,” Hanna said earnestly, something of her old volatile nature threatening to break through. The pale-eyed wizard watched her fight down the impulse to raise her voice with detached interest. After a moment, Hanna unclenched her fists. “I need to find a college that will take me, before the witch hunters track me down.”
“You do have a strand of death in your aura,” Hollobach said, “but other winds blow far more strongly around you.” For a moment, Rudi thought he detected an air of uncertainty in the mage’s voice, although his intonation was so dry that it was hard to be sure. “My advice would be to seek out the Bright College. If anyone can help you, it would be them.”
“Thank you.” Hanna said, her whole face radiating relief. “Where can I find it?”
“On the eastern edge of the city, although if you’re really suited, it might be truer to say that the college will find you.” The mage stepped past her, and paused in the doorway, with a final nod at von Eckstein. “Until later.”
“I’ll send word,” the nobleman promised. He looked quizzically at Hanna, as if evaluating a new addition to his collection of art. “So, you’re a hedge witch.”
“So they tell me,” Hanna said shortly.
“Just as well,” Fritz put in. “The Fog Walkers sent a shadow mage after us, and she took him down without breaking sweat.”
“A shadow mage?” Von Eckstein shook his head. “I seriously doubt that, the shadowmancers’ loyalty to the Emperor is unparalleled. One of their homegrown dabblers from Baron Hendryk’s, with a few spells copied or stolen from the Grey College, I would imagine.” He returned to his desk, and gestured to the chairs scattered around the room. “I’d be very interested to hear about it, though, and the other attacks you mentioned.” Rudi and Hanna seated themselves, followed a moment later by Mathilde and Fritz. No one, Rudi noted, seemed particularly keen to claim the chair so recently occupied by Magister Hollobach. Von Eckstein lifted a small silver bell from beside his inkstand, and rang it. “It sounds like a long story, so I think perhaps a little refreshment before we begin.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The afternoon was well advanced by the time that Rudi and Hanna had finished a suitably abridged account of their journey up the Reik, and Rudi was grateful for the food that von Eckstein had ordered before they began. The meal itself had been simple enough, a platter of bread, cheese and fruit, accompanied by a flagon of wine, which von Eckstein had discreetly avoided in favour of the contents of a carafe already sitting inconspicuously on a side table, but the flavours and textures had been of a quality that Rudi had never before experienced.
Hanna had accepted the wine dubiously, waiting until Rudi had taken a mouthful of his own before sipping cautiously at it. Having tried the drink before, during his meal with Fritz in Marienburg, Rudi had felt no such reservations. The vintage was a little fruitier than the bottle he’d shared with the simpleton at the Gull and Trident, but just as refreshing, and it complemented the food perfectly.
“It seems Fritz was right,” von Eckstein said at last. “We were lucky you decided to leave Marienburg when you did.” Though he was undoubtedly astute enough to have realised there was much they were leaving out of their account, to Rudi’s relief the nobleman didn’t press the point, preferring to concentrate his questioning on their encounters with the agents of Marienburg. Instead, he looked at Hanna. “I hope you fare well enough at the Bright College to feel that the rigours of the journey were worth enduring.” Encouraged by his matter-of-fact acceptance of her gifts, the young sorceress had been uncharacteristically forthcoming about her part in the events that had brought them there, even though there was still much she’d glossed over.
“So do I,” Hanna said, trying to sound casual, but failing to conceal her nervousness at the prospect. Before she could say more, they were interrupted by a knock on the study door.
“Enter,” von Eckstein called. Rudi assumed at first that the servant who stepped into the room was there to clear the dishes, but the man ignored the scattered remains of the meal they’d shared, crossing the room to address the nobleman instead, in hushed and urgent tones. Unlike the girl who had brought the food to the study, he was dressed in full livery, the elaborate heraldry embroidered on it clearly indicating that he was someone of consequence among the household staff.
“There’s a carter downstairs with a box, my lord, insisting that you be informed at once of his arrival. I told him you were busy, but he claims that those were his express instructions from your personal representative.” As he spoke the last words, he glanced at Fritz, his expression studiously neutral. The nobleman nodded.
“They were. Thank you, Albrecht. If you would be so good, relieve the fellow of his burden, and arrange for someone to bring it up here right away?”
“At once, my lord.” Keeping whatever opinions he might have about the matter to himself, Albrecht departed, with a faintly curious look at Rudi and Hanna. No doubt he was used to his master’s covert activities on behalf of the Empire, bringing all kinds of apparently incongruous people into his inner sanctum, and knew better than to speculate or ask.
“Good.” Von Eckstein cleared some papers from the surface of his desk, and waited impatiently until a couple of footmen had heaved a large wooden box into the room and departed. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He gestured to the roughly nailed crate, which seemed somehow vaguely familiar, although Rudi couldn’t quite put his finger on where he might have seen it before. “Fritz, if I could prevail on your strong right arm?”
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