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[Gotrek & Felix 10] - Elfslayer Page 4
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“Yes-yes, your excellence,” said Shadowfang. “It was from there I followed him.”
“Then to there you return,” said Thanquol, baring his teeth to admit a squeal of triumph. “To learn what the man-sire knows of its offspring.”
Max raised a glass of wine in one beringed hand. “To fond reunions,” he said, then took a drink.
Felix raised his glass and drank in turn. “To fond reunions.”
Gotrek just drank.
They sat in Max’s handsome stateroom on board the Jilfte Bateau, only slightly larger, but several steps more luxurious, than Gotrek and Felix’s little cabin, with mahogany panelling on the walls and coloured glass in the windows. An iron stove against one wall radiated a pleasant warmth. If it weren’t for the motion of the boat upon the river, Felix would have thought himself in some tidy study.
“We all thought you dead, you know,” said Max. “When you failed to return from that strange portal in Sylvania we lost all hope.”
Felix nodded. “Malakai said the same thing.”
Max raised his greying eyebrows. “You’ve seen him?”
“We were on the Spirit of Grungni when it crashed,” said Felix. “You hadn’t heard about that?”
“I heard, yes,” said Max. “But your names weren’t mentioned.”
Max had aged well, Felix thought. He was still handsome, and the grey streaks in his neatly trimmed beard added to the air of grave dignity he had always projected. His hair was mostly grey now and flowed down past his shoulders in a kingly mane.
“I have only recently returned from Middenheim,” he said. “There was much to be done after the final battle. Much cleansing.”
Gotrek gave an angry grunt at the mention of Middenheim.
“How did the Grungni come to crash?” Max asked.
Felix paused. Where to begin? It was a story that could take an evening to tell. Before he could start, there was a knock on the door.
“Come,” called Max.
The door opened and in stepped the young seeress, dressed now in a much less ostentatious robe of dark blue wool with no embroidery. She inclined her head to Max. “Good evening, magister,” she said, smiling. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all,” said Max as he and Felix stood.
Gotrek didn’t look up.
“Let me make the introductions we were too rushed to make on deck,” said Max. “Felix, Gotrek, may I present Fraulein Claudia Pallenberger, a journeyman of the Celestial College, and a seeress of great perception/
Felix bowed. Gotrek grunted.
“Fraulein Pallenberger,” continued Max. “May I introduce to you Felix Jaeger, poet, adventurer and swordsman of renown, and Gotrek Gurnisson, slayer of trolls, dragons and daemons, and the most dangerous companion with whom I have ever had the honour of travelling.”
Gotrek snorted at that.
Claudia curtseyed and smiled at Felix and Gotrek. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Herr Jaeger, and you Herr Gurnisson.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” said Felix, bowing again. “Are you travelling to Marienburg, fraulein?”
“To Marienburg and beyond,” said Claudia as she crossed to a chair next to the stove and sat down. She raised her chin and looked mysterious. “I’ve had premonitions.”
Max almost dropped the glass of wine he was pouring for her. “This is a secret mission, fraulein,” he murmured.
Claudia blushed and her mysterious look collapsed. She suddenly looked closer to seventeen than twenty. “I’m sorry, magister. I didn’t think. I…”
Max smiled and handed Claudia her wine. “Don’t worry, we’re among friends. But please try to be more cautious in the future.” She nodded her head, sheepish.
Max turned to Felix and Gotrek. “You’ll not speak of this.”
“Of course not,” said Felix.
Gotrek shook his head and drank again.
“Thank you,” said Max. “Then you may tell the rest of it, seeress.”
Claudia nodded again, then looked solemnly at Felix. “I have seen Altdorf destroyed in fire and flood. I have seen Marienburg swept from the face of the earth by a towering wave. I have seen death and ruin on an unimaginable scale, and the coming of a great dark age.”
“Ah,” said Felix. “I see.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say.
“And I am drawn to the north by the feeling that the prevention of these events may be found there.”
“Fraulein Pallenberger’s visions have been confirmed as true divinations by the magisters of her college,” said Max. “They have also determined that she is particularly attuned to these strands of possibility and have sent her to follow them to their source. I accompany her as mentor and, ah, protector.”
Felix frowned, confused. “You are with the Celestial College, Max? I always thought…”
Max smiled and took another drink. “No, I am of the Order of Light. But it was felt that, er, that a man who had seen something of the world…”
“The magisters of my college,” interrupted Claudia, her eyes flaring, “are a lot of dusty old greybeards who never leave their rooms. Their eyes are always at their telescopes and their minds are always in the clouds. They hid behind their doors like old biddies when I asked who would accompany me.”
Max coughed to hide a laugh. “I was chosen because, in my youthful wanderings before I found employment with the Graf of Middenheim, I had spent some time in Marienburg and came to know some of the leaders of the magical fraternity there, such as they are.”
“And because you have actually cast a spell in battle,” added Claudia hotly.
Max nodded. “That too. Although I hope that this will be nothing more than a reconnaissance mission and that there will be no reason for violence.”
Felix frowned at Max. “Forgive me, Max, but I’m confused now. When Makaisson said that you were at the colleges I didn’t think anything of it, but weren’t you…? That is, how did it come about? I seem to remember you telling me that you had, ah, broken with them. Wasn’t that the cause of your ‘youthful wanderings’?”
Max smiled wistfully. “There comes a time in a man’s life—” He shot a sharp glance at Felix here. “At least in some men’s lives—when he puts wandering behind him, and wants some security” He had another sip of wine. “I was honoured by the Tsarina for my help in the defence of Praag that year. This won me the grudging acceptance of the colleges, and a few years later, after some hemming and hawing, they offered me a teaching position, and a chance to continue my studies—within reason.” He cast a look at Gotrek, who continued to stare dully into his mug. “Adventuring wasn’t the same after you two vanished anyway, so I took the job. Been there ever since.”
Claudia smiled over the rim of her glass. “Have you all shared adventures before, then? Is that how you know each other? Were you brave friends on some noble quest?”
Felix and Max exchanged an uncomfortable glance. They had certainly shared numerous adventures, but they had not always been the best of friends.
“Herr Jaeger, Herr Gurnisson and I travelled together into the Chaos Wastes once,” said Max. “On an airship.”
“And we fought a dragon,” said Felix.
“And the hordes of Chaos,” said Max.
“And defeated a… a vampire.” Felix stammered, wishing as soon as he said it that he hadn’t spoken. He remembered the outcome of that nightmarish episode and how Max had reacted to the news of Ulrika’s undeath. Should he tell Max he had seen her? Would Ulrika want him to know? What would Max do if he knew? Would he seek her out? Would she fall in love with him again? The bitter bile of jealousy suddenly welled up in Felix’s heart as if the hurt had happened yesterday instead of nearly twenty years before. He fought it down, angry with himself for being ridiculous. What did he possibly have to be jealous about? Ulrika had said that love between the living and the unliving was impossible. She could no more betray him with Max than with anyone else, and yet still the wound burned. He cur
sed himself. Men truly were fools.
Max was looking at him curiously.
Felix flushed and turned back to Claudia, forcing a smile. “So, yes, we have had a few adventures together, I suppose, but all many, many years ago.”
Claudia’s full lips curved into a smile. “You don’t look old enough to have had adventures many, many years ago, Herr Jaeger.”
“Ah, well, I…”
“Yes,” said Max, eyeing Felix with a bemused frown. “Herr Jaeger is remarkably well preserved.”
“Mm, yes,” said Claudia, looking at Felix from under a curtain of golden tresses. “Remarkably.”
Felix started like he had been goosed. The girl found him attractive! That was no good at all. He shot a look at Max. The wizard was scowling. He had seen it too. Felix swallowed. This could all get very awkward. “I think perhaps it is time for us to retire,” he said, standing quickly. “You no doubt have many things to speak of regarding your mission. Ready, Gotrek?”
“There’s no need,” said the seeress. “Really.”
“No no,” Felix insisted, stepping to the door. “The Slayer and I have had an exhausting day, thank you all the same.” He nodded respectfully to Max. “Max, a pleasure to see you again.” Then he turned to Claudia. “Fraulein Pallenberger, an honour to make your acquaintance. I bid you both a very good night.”
Gotrek stood and downed the last of his beer in one long swallow, then put the mug down and stumped out after Felix.
“Thanks for the beer,” he said.
The journey down the Reik from Altdorf to Marienburg took twelve days, according to the ship’s pilot, but by the end of the second day, Felix was convinced it was more like twelve years. It seemed as if it would never be over.
Gotrek, never the most effervescent of travelling companions, had become a monosyllabic lump that sat in the dark in their cabin and stared at the wall, never leaving except to find food and beer. Without the Slayer’s company, Felix had little to do but pace the decks and try to avoid the attentions of Fraulein Pallenberger, which proved no easy task.
She seemed to be everywhere: on the stairs coming down when he was coming up, stepping out of her cabin just as he was stepping out of his, walking on the fore-deck just when he wanted to stretch his legs, and sipping tea in the taproom just when he was in the mood for a drink. And always, somewhere in the background, like a hovering grey owl, was Max, glaring at Felix as if it were he who was instigating things.
Felix always excused himself as quickly and politely as possible, and Claudia never made any fuss, just exchanged pleasantries and moved on, but there was something in her smile, and in the gleam of her dancing eyes, that suggested that, like a cat who waits at a mouse hole, she knew that her patience would eventually win out over his reticence.
On the third evening, when Felix had scurried to the aft deck after seeing Claudia engrossed in a book on the foredeck, Max finally sought him out, joining him as he leaned on the stern rail and looked out at the trees and fields that glided by on either side of them. The wizard filled a long clay pipe with tobacco, lit it with a flame from his finger, then exhaled a long plume of smoke.
“You would do well to keep your roving eye to yourself, Felix,” he said at last.
Felix felt his hackles raise. The accusation was unfair. And even if it weren’t, who was Max to tell him what to do? “I have no intention of allowing my eye to rove,” he said sharply. “Nor any other part of my anatomy, for that matter.”
“I am glad to hear it,” said Max. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry, Felix. She is a bright girl, but very sheltered. She entered the college at eleven, and has seen nothing of the world except its cloisters since. Recently, according to her masters, this has begun to chafe.”
“That’s hardly surprising, is it?” said Felix. “An energetic, inquisitive girl, coming to maturity in a monastery of—what did she call them—dusty old greybeards? You can’t blame her for wanting to experience something of life while she’s young.”
“No, I can’t,” said Max sadly. “I certainly wanted to see the world when I was her age. Nevertheless, I have been charged by her college to keep her safe from any entanglements or embarrassments while she undertakes this journey, and if I fail… well there will be some unpleasant political repercussions.” He looked up at Felix with a rueful smile. “So, as a favour to your old travelling companion…?” He let the question hang.
Felix sighed and looked down the river winding away south and east behind them, as if he could see all the way back to Nuln. “Trust me, Max. I’ve no interest in her, nor any woman, at the moment. My heart is locked in an iron box and I’ve lost the key.”
Max raised his eyebrows. “It must be a terrible melancholy indeed to cause you to resort to metaphor.” He nodded and stood. “Well, no matter the cause, I appreciate your understanding and restraint. I will do my best to keep her occupied, but remember what you have said here if she escapes me.”
“I will,” said Felix.
Max tapped his pipe on the rail, knocking the ash into the river, then turned to go. Felix looked after him, hesitant, then spoke.
“Max.”
The wizard looked back. “Yes?”
“I’ve seen Ulrika.”
Max looked at him, his face growing still. He returned to the rail. “She still lives?”
Felix nodded. “If it can be called living.”
“Is she… is she well?”
“As well as can be expected, I suppose. She is still under the patronage of the Countess Gabriella. She is her bodyguard. In Nuln.”
Max twisted his pipe in his hands, his eyes far away. “I have often thought of seeking her out, but I never had the courage.”
“I wish I hadn’t found her,” said Felix, with unexpected bitterness.
“No?” asked Max, turning to look at him. “Is she so changed then?”
“Not nearly enough,” said Felix. He found he had a lump in his throat. He fought to swallow it. “Not nearly enough.”
“Ah,” said Max. “Ah, I see.” He pressed his lips together and stared hard over the rail into the swirling waters of the river. “Then I think that I shall not seek her out after all.” He turned away, then, after a step, turned back and looked at Felix. “Thank you for telling me.”
Felix shrugged. “I’m not sure it was a kindness.”
“Nor am I,” said Max. “But I am glad to know nonetheless. Good day, Felix.” Then he turned and walked towards the main deck.
Claudia caught Felix at last on the afternoon of the fifth day.
Except for light fare in the taproom, the Jilfte Bateau did not serve meals. Instead, it had arrangements with inns at various towns along the Reik that would provide food and drink for its passengers. It stopped only twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon, meaning that those who were inclined to be peckish at other times of day were advised to buy extra food for later. This afternoon, the riverboat had docked in the small town of Schilderheim, and the passengers had disembarked—all but Felix.
Finding himself more in need of solitude than sustenance, and seeing Max and Fraulein Pallenberger making their way down the gangplank, he had decided to remain on board, settling down in the empty taproom with a pint and the first volume of the My Travels With Gotrek books that his brother Otto had published during his absence. Felix had hesitated to read them these last two months, fearing that he would find that his journals had been clumsily fleshed out, or imperfectly edited, or worse, that his own youthful prose would not stand up to his scrutiny, but he could resist no longer, and at last opened the leather-bound, gilt-stamped cover and began.
He was not reassured by the title page, for there was an error even there. The publishing date was wrong—2505. He hadn’t even sent the first journal to his brother then. Someone must have used the date he had written on the inside cover of his original journal as the publishing date. But even that wasn’t right, was it? It had been a few years before that. It was baffling. Out of
curiosity, he pulled the other books out of his satchel and checked them. The publishing date in every one of them was the same! Whoever had typeset the books had been lazy in the extreme and left the title page untouched in each edition. Felix shook his head, then shrugged. What did he expect from a penny-pincher like Otto? He wouldn’t have gone to a first-rate printer, would he?
Just as he began the first chapter, and shivered as it recalled to his mind the horrors of that long past Geheimnisnacht, a shadow fell across the page and he looked up. Fraulein Pallenberger was smiling down at him. Felix jumped in surprise.
“Herr Jaeger,” she said, curtseying and smiling at his unease.
Felix stood and bowed. “Fraulein Pallenberger, how unexpected to find you here. I thought I saw you leave for the inn.”
“Nothing is unexpected to one of the Celestial Order, Herr Jaeger,” she said, taking the seat next to his. “May I?”
“Certainly,” said Felix, cursing himself for not having the courage to refuse her.
He watched Claudia out of the corner of his eye as she signalled to the barman to bring her some tea. In truth, he wished he could find it within him to succumb to her charms, if only to annoy Max, but also to try to find some balm for the pain in his heart. His last view of Ulrika, running into the darkness of the skaven tunnels beneath Nuln, had been more than two months ago, and still not a day went by—not an hour!—when he did not think of her and feel the stab of regret rip through him.
Part of him wanted that never to change. The pain was all he had left of her, and that made it precious, and yet, another part of him wanted to be free of it. He longed to drown himself in the solace of loving—or at least lustful—arms. What had Ulrika said? We must find happiness among our own kind? It seemed impossible.
Claudia was beautiful, there was no denying it, and alluring as well, with her knowing glances and gleaming fall of honey-coloured hair, but though he tried his best not to, he could not stop himself from comparing her to Ulrika, and in each instance finding her wanting. Her blue eyes were bright and beautiful, but not as alive as Ulrika’s—not even in her undeath. Her smile was sultry, but not as forthright as Ulrika’s, her curves were lovely, even under her seeress’ robes, but seemed to him girlish and unformed when compared to Ulrika’s clean-limbed martial grace. Her nose… ah, but it was useless! No matter how beautiful Claudia was, and how beguiling her attraction to him, it was not her arms he wanted to find solace in, it was Ulrika’s, and though he knew that could never be, that didn’t stop him wanting it with all his heart.