“She’s been quiet all night,” the boatwoman volunteered.
“Then she started making these noises just after dawn.”
“What kind of noises?” Gofrey asked. Berta shrugged.
“Just noises,” she said. “You know, like people do when
they’re asleep. I only noticed because she’s been so still before.”
“That’s a good sign,” the healer said, obviously reading
Rudi’s apprehension on his face. “It means she’s coming out of it.” He beckoned
to Yullis. “Can you get me some boiling water?”
“I suppose so.” The cook disappeared into the superstructure
in the centre of the deck, and after a moment Rudi heard clattering noises
coming from the galley.
“She’s down here,” Rudi said, indicating the companionway
that led to the hold. Gofrey nodded.
“Then if you wouldn’t mind?” He held out a hand and let Rudi
help him down the narrow flight of stairs, wincing a little every time he took
his weight on the supposedly injured ankle. To Rudi’s unspoken relief, everyone
else remained on deck, dispersing to prepare the
Reikmaiden
for
departure.
At first sight, Hanna looked exactly as she had when Rudi had
gone ashore the previous evening, but as he stepped closer to the hammock he saw
her stir fitfully as if dreaming. Her breathing seemed a little deeper too, and
her face rather less pallid than he remembered. He mentioned as much to Gofrey.
“Good.” The healer nodded, his attention still fixed on the
sleeping girl. “She’s definitely starting to recover. Anything else you can tell
me?” Certain that they wouldn’t be overheard, since the echoes of the footsteps
on the deck above their heads let him know exactly where each of the crew was,
Rudi nodded.
“She cast a spell, a big one. Then she just collapsed.”
“I see.” Gofrey bent over Hanna’s recumbent form, examining
her face minutely. Reminded of Gerhard’s scrutiny, Rudi fought down the urge to
drag him away. “That would be after the witch hunter’s mark was removed?”
“Yes,” Rudi confirmed. The healer nodded.
“Remarkable. You’d never know it had been there.”
“It was as if all the power it had been blocking suddenly
burst out of her,” Rudi went on. Gofrey looked up at him, an expression of
puzzlement on his face.
“That’s what I don’t understand,” he said. “How could she
possibly have survived for so long with that abomination in place?”
Rudi shrugged, unwilling to answer. The skaven’s stone wasn’t
exactly a secret, but it was clearly a powerful charm of some kind, and Hanna
had evidently bonded with it in some way. Perhaps Gofrey would want to take it
if he found out about it, or if he touched it, it might harm Hanna by breaking
the link. Magic was a strange and capricious thing, he knew, and far beyond his
comprehension.
“She’s tougher than she looks,” he said truthfully, evading
the issue. If Hanna thought that telling Gofrey about the stone was a good idea,
she could do it herself when she woke.
“Evidently.” The healer pressed a hand to the girl’s
forehead, exactly where Gerhard’s talisman had been, murmuring something under
his breath. Alarmed, Rudi started forwards, but before he could intervene, Hanna
sighed deeply, and her eyes flickered open.
“Who are you?” she asked, sounding puzzled rather than
afraid. Rudi remembered she could recognise another magic user by sight. She sat
up, awareness returning to her features, compensating for the rocking of the
hammock with small, precise movements, and smiled at Rudi. “We made it then.”
“This is Gofrey,” Rudi explained. No point telling her where
they were, she’d obviously recognised the hold of the
Reikmaiden
instantly. “He’s a healer, like you.”
“Not quite,” Gofrey said. He nodded formally. “My powers are
far more limited than yours appear to be.” He turned to Rudi, and pulled some
dried leaves from his bag. “Could you take these to Yullis, and ask him to
infuse them for me? He must have boiled the water by now.”
Torn between the desire to help and reluctance to leave Hanna
again, Rudi hesitated. The girl nodded.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. As he climbed up the companionway
into the open air, the two mages began a hushed and urgent conversation behind
him, none of which he could hear.
Rudi hurried through the errand as quickly as he could, but
Yullis insisted on taking the time to infuse the leaves properly before they
left his galley, and several minutes had passed before he was able to return to
the hold. When he did, he was just in time to meet Gofrey emerging from the
hatch.
“See that she drinks that,” the healer said. Turning away
from Rudi, he waved at Shenk. “Just going ashore,” he called. “I’m sure I’ve
delayed you quite long enough!”
“We’ll make up the time,” Shenk assured him. With a final
round of waving and shouted farewells, Gofrey hobbled down the gangplank, and
Pieter and Ansbach began to unship the hawsers holding the riverboat in place.
Having nothing better to do on deck, and anxious about Hanna, Rudi negotiated
the narrow steps as best he could with a steaming mug in one hand and handed the
drink to her.
“Thank you.” Hanna was out of the hammock, and sitting on one
of the barrels stowed all through the hold. She sipped the fragrant brew
carefully, and regarded Rudi through the steam with narrowed eyes.
“Did he tell you he’d seen Greta?” Rudi asked.
“Yes,” Hanna said, nodding, as if it wasn’t really of any
importance. Rudi felt a faint stirring of irritation.
“Did he say anything else?”
“We discussed my symptoms,” Hanna said, in a curiously flat
tone that warned Rudi not to pursue the matter.
“I see.” Vaguely disconcerted, Rudi shrugged. “Would you like
some fresh air? We’re just getting under way.”
“I’ll join you on deck when I’ve finished this,” Hanna said.
Taking the hint, Rudi climbed out of the hold again, leaving her to her
thoughts.
The air outside was crisp, and the sun strong on the open
water, but his spirits refused to lift. By the time he found himself able to
relax again, the riverside settlement and its enigmatic healer were both long
out of sight.
The next week or so passed without incident, the sturdy
little riverboat forging its way upstream while the landscape beyond the rail
changed slowly into something more familiar. The ever-present swamp and
heathland began to be dotted with trees, isolated specimens at first, stunted
and windswept for the most part, and then clustering into copses of gradually
increasing size. After the first couple of days Rudi began to see patches of
actual woodland, his spirits rising incrementally with each canopy of foliage to
come into view. The leaves were turning the colours of autumn, evergreens
mingled with browns, reds and yellows, so that from a distance some of the trees
might have been pillars of frozen fire.
“It’s beautiful,” Hanna said, as the
Reikmaiden
glided
past a patch of forest that stretched down to the very banks of the river,
making the water that reflected it appear to burn as it rippled with the wake of
their passing. She seemed stronger, although she still hadn’t recovered all her
former vigour, and Rudi felt quietly encouraged by her words. Since Gofrey had
woken her she’d seemed more thoughtful and withdrawn, although her underlying
strength of character was just as evident, and she’d shown little inclination
for small talk. “Remind you of home?”
Taken by surprise at the question, Rudi could only nod. He
could picture the scene under the trees all too vividly; almost smell the leaf
mould, and feel the crispness of the frost-hardened leaves under his boots. That
was where he belonged, he thought, in the tranquillity of a forest glade, not
chasing all over the Empire avoiding murderous lunatics. Reading his silence,
Hanna squeezed his hand for a moment.
“Sorry,” she said, “stupid question.”
“It’s all right,” Rudi said, touched by her solicitude. This
was almost like having the old Hanna back, but without the propensity to sarcasm
and the hair-trigger temper. He tried not to think of it as an improvement. He’d
changed too in the last few months, more than he would have believed possible,
and he wondered for a moment what alterations she’d noticed in him.
“Any idea where we’re putting in tonight?” he asked, hoping
to cover the awkwardness. Hanna shrugged.
“I don’t suppose it matters,” she said, “they all seem pretty
much the same.” Since leaving Nocht’s Landing they’d spent most of the
intervening nights at similar riverside settlements, and passed many more during
the days, anonymous little islets of habitation that slipped past the railing
and vanished as if they’d never been. Some undoubtedly had. He’d seen a couple
of decayed jetties too, clearly long abandoned, although who’d built them and
why they’d left he had no idea, and he hadn’t felt much like asking any of the
crew. On a couple of nights the boat had just kept sailing, forging through the
dark, her running lights sketching her shape against the sky, but he knew that
Shenk would rather lay up until the morning if he could. Gossip was the
lifeblood of the river, and the news the captain gathered at these tiny
settlements could be vital, and the steady stream of letters and messages the
boat took on for forwarding at the next big town was a useful addition to her
revenue.
“Wherever it is, we must be getting pretty close,” Rudi said,
glancing back over the stern. The sun was low in the western sky, tinting the
waters of the Reik the colour of molten gold, and he narrowed his eyes against
the glare. “It’s almost dark.” Something seemed to be moving on the water behind
the boat, but he couldn’t be sure what it was, his vision dazzled by the dancing
reflections.
“What is it?” Hanna asked, aware of the subtle changes in his
body language that indicated tension.
“I’m not sure.” He shaded his eyes with a hand, and , a dark
silhouette resolved itself slowly, shimmering in the nimbus of light that
surrounded it. “It looks like a boat.” Whatever it was, it was moving fast,
slipping through the water like a predator. The image rose unbidden in his mind,
a warning from his subconscious. The tiller was only a few yards away, Ansbach
leaning against it, ostentatiously unaware of their presence as he adjusted the
ship’s heading with small, precise movements. Rudi hailed him. “Ansbach!”
“What do you want?” the steersman asked, his tone making it
abundantly clear that he couldn’t have cared less. Rudi gestured over the stern.
“There’s a boat behind us, catching up fast. Should we be
worried?” He’d half-expected some sarcastic rejoinder, the deckhand pretending
to think he meant the small rowing boat that trailed in their wake at the end of
a rope, but Ansbach simply turned, narrowing his eyes against the glare, and
nodded grimly.
“Yes.” He filled his lungs, and bellowed, “Stand to!”
The rest of the crew abandoned their jobs around the deck and
ran to join them, Shenk emerging from his cabin, still fastening his coat.
“What is it?” the captain asked. Once again, Rudi marvelled
at the transformation of the shabby little man, here in his natural habitat. He
sounded crisp and incisive, every inch the leader that his crew evidently
expected him to be.
“We’ve got company,” Ansbach reported, jerking a thumb in the
direction of the stern. “Your friend here spotted them.” The last was delivered
in a grudging tone, it was true, but Rudi appreciated it nevertheless. Shenk
nodded. The approaching vessel was clearly visible, slicing through the water at
a speed the heavily laden riverboat couldn’t hope to match. Its hull was lean
and narrow, its sails rigged for speed, and it was closing fast.
“Typical pirate trick,” Shenk said, nodding his thanks to
Rudi, “coming out of the sun at dawn or dusk.” He turned, running back to his
cabin, and vanished inside.
“Don’t just stand there, arm yourselves!” Busch bellowed, and
Berta, Yullis and Pieter scattered to find whatever makeshift weapons they
could. That wouldn’t be much, Rudi thought. Most people in the Empire carried a
knife, for eating, odd jobs, and self-defence at a pinch, but the crew of the
marauding vessel would be far better armed than that, he was sure.
“Better get below,” Rudi said to Hanna. He’d been expecting
her to argue, but she simply nodded, tight-lipped. She might be well on the road
to recovery, but she was still in no condition to fight. They both knew that.
Her spell casting abilities could turn the tide of battle easily, of course, and
he pictured a bolt of magical fire like the ones that had consumed the skaven
and Magnus’ mutants bursting on the deck of the approaching marauder with a
sigh of regret. There was no way, however, that the young sorceress could use
her abilities in front of the crew without betraying her secret, and if that
happened, he had no doubt at all that Shenk would turn them in to the
authorities, in spite of the debt he owed him. The captain wouldn’t risk being
burned for harbouring a witch, however grateful he might have been to Rudi for
helping him evade arrest back in Marienburg.
“Good luck.” Hanna turned, and disappeared down the hatch to
the hold. Relieved that she was safe, at least for the time being, Rudi turned
his attention to the immediate threat.
The pirate vessel was close enough to have lost the
protection of the westering sun, its sails blotting out the sinking ball of
fire, and Rudi began to make out some of the details. A cluster of men stood on
its deck, pointing and gesticulating, clearly getting ready for combat. Shafts
of light from the setting sun glittered off the swords in their hands, turning
the blades the colour of blood, and Rudi drew his own.
“Hadn’t you better get a weapon too?” he asked Ansbach.
“I can’t leave the tiller,” the deckhand said, with the weary
patience of someone explaining the obvious. “If we lose way, we’re done for.” He
was clearly unhappy about this, and Rudi could understand why. Standing at the
stern, Ansbach was uncomfortably exposed, and would be unable to defend himself
if he was attacked.