[Gotrek & Felix 10] - Elfslayer Read online

  “What are you reading, Herr Jaeger?” Claudia asked, leaning in to look at the cover of the book.

  Felix flushed. There really was nothing more embarrassing than to be caught reading one’s own memoirs. “Ah, my brother published my journals without my knowledge. I… I’m checking to see that he didn’t change them too much.”

  She read the title. “My Travels With Gotrek.” She looked up at him. “You and Herr Gurnisson seem an odd pairing. How did you come to travel together?”

  Felix groaned inwardly. It was a long story and he didn’t particularly feel like telling it just now. He held out the book. “Would you like to read about it?”

  Claudia laughed. “I would much rather hear it from the lips of the man that lived it.”

  Felix sighed. “Well, if you insist.”

  And so he told her about his student days, and the Window Tax riots, and how Gotrek had saved him from the swords of the Reiksguard—though he downplayed the slaughter somewhat—and how he and Gotrek had retired to the inn and got abysmally drunk, and how he had sworn to follow Gotrek and record his death in an epic poem.

  When he finished, Claudia looked at him strangely. “And for how many years have you followed the Slayer?” she asked.

  “More than twenty,” he said.

  “That seems a long time to continue honouring a vow made while in one’s cups,” she said.

  Felix nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “It’s a wonder you continue.”

  “A vow is still a vow, no matter how long ago it was made,” said Felix.

  “But what about your life!” cried Claudia, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. “Did you not have plans of your own? Did you not have dreams? How could you give up your life to follow another?”

  Felix frowned. It was rare that he talked about these things out loud. “I did have plans. I meant to be a poet. Possibly a playwright. I believed I would spend my life among the inns and theatres of Altdorf. But as I said, a vow is a vow.”

  “But you were drunk!”

  “It was still a vow.”

  She shook her head, seeming truly upset. “It must be more than that. Surely Herr Gurnisson would have forgiven you your duty if you had gone to him and asked to be released from it. I cannot believe that anyone would ask someone to hold to a promise made when they were too young or too drunk to know what it meant—when they had no idea of all the wonders that life offers for someone who is free to see them. Have you no regrets? Did you never want to leave?”

  Felix wasn’t sure Gotrek would have released him from his vow. Like all dwarfs, the Slayer was a stickler when it came to honouring pledges, but still she was right, it had been more than the vow. “I do have regrets,” he said at last. “And I did want to leave. Many times. I even agreed to abandon him once.” A shiver went through him as he remembered the circumstances. “Though I didn’t in the end. On the other hand, I have seen more of the world following the Slayer than I ever would have writing poems in Altdorf, and though it has often been dangerous, and I have come close to losing my life more times than I can count, I don’t think I could trade it for a safer life. Not any more. I believe I have become addicted to excitement.”

  “Well, I envy you that part of it, at least,” said the seeress. “But to not be able to call your life your own. To not be able to say, ‘I want to go this way’, or ‘I want to try this’, or ‘I want to talk to this person’, because you have pledged to make your life beholden to someone else for all time seems… unbearable! I don’t know how you can stand it!”

  Felix blinked at her. Was she talking about him any more, or herself? “It is indeed a hard thing,” he said at last, “to make a vow that one regrets later, but a man of honour—or a woman of honour, for that matter…”

  “Fraulein Pallenberger,” said a voice.

  They looked up.

  Max Schreiber stood in the door, his eyes cold. “I thought you had returned to the boat for your gloves.”

  Claudia smiled brightly at him. “And I found them, Magister Schreiber,” she said, holding up a pair of long fawn gloves. “But then I saw Herr Jaeger here alone and thought I would take some tea with him.”

  “You’ve missed your dinner,” said Max, sounding very much like an out-of-sorts schoolmaster.

  “Sometimes a conversation can be more filling than a meal, magister,” she said, standing. She turned to Felix and held out her hand to him, smirking conspiratorially as she did so. “Thank you for your company, Herr Jaeger,” she said. “It is very refreshing to speak now and then to someone who still understands the yearning of youth for knowledge and experience.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, fraulein.” Felix glanced at Max as he bent over her hand. The wizard was glaring daggers at him. Claudia squeezed Felix’s fingers warmly before she let go.

  He sighed as she rejoined Max and they turned to go. Would this journey never end? He sat down and returned to his travels with Gotrek.

  FOUR

  Seven days later the journey did end, and not before time, as far as Felix was concerned. What with Claudia popping out at him from every corner and Max scowling at him from every doorway, he felt a haunted man by the time the riverboat reached Marienburg, and he disembarked onto the fog-shrouded docks of the Suiddock with a sigh of relief.

  He and Gotrek took lodging in an inn that his father had recommended called the Three Bells, in the bustling Handelaarmarkt district—a place of shipping offices, guild halls and trade associations—and had sent word to Hans Euler that he wished to meet with him on a matter of business. While he waited for a response, he continued to read through the first volume of My Travels With Gotrek, which was proving better than he had feared. Every now and then he would find himself nodding at a particularly neat turn of phrase and thinking that his younger self was a better writer than he had given him credit for.

  Gotrek had immediately installed himself at a table at the back of the Three Bells’ long, narrow taproom and proceeded to drink himself into a stupor, just as he had at the Griffon in Altdorf. Felix sighed to see it. It was as if all the life had been sucked out of the Slayer, and all that was left was an empty husk that remembered nothing of its former life except how to drink. With Archaon’s invasion repelled, was there anything now that could stir Gotrek from his melancholy? Or would he spend the rest of his days travelling from tavern to tavern, as miserable in one as he was in another?

  Though he often complained when he was forced to follow the Slayer into danger, Felix didn’t fancy that prospect either. It certainly wouldn’t make a very exciting epic.

  The next morning, when Felix came down from his room to look for breakfast, the landlord brought him a note. It was from Hans Euler. Felix opened it and read,

  Herr Jaeger,

  Warmest regards, and I would be very pleased to meet you today, two hours after noon, at my house on the Kaasveltstraat in the Noordmuur district.

  Yours,

  Hans Euler

  Felix was pleased, if a little surprised, at the speed and politeness of the reply. From what his father had said of the man, he had expected to be put off or outright refused. He sent a messenger with a reply saying that he would be there at two, then went to find Gotrek.

  He didn’t have far to look. The Slayer was at the same table Felix had left him at the night before, staring into nothingness with a huge mug in one fist. It looked as if, once again, he had not returned to their room. Felix asked the barmaid to bring him some breakfast, then went and joined the Slayer at the table. Gotrek remained staring straight ahead.

  Felix cleared his throat. “Euler agreed to meet with me today,” he said.

  “Who?” rumbled Gotrek, not turning.

  “Hans Euler. The man I’m here to see.”

  “Ah.” Gotrek drained the mug, then made a face. “Grungni, that’s terrible. Tastes like fish.” He signalled the barman for another.

  “I was hoping you would come with me.”

  “Why?”

&nb
sp; “Well, Euler might be difficult. I might need some help convincing him to hand over the letter.”

  Gotrek’s single eye looked up at Felix, dim interest stirring behind it. “A fight?”

  “I hope not, but possibly. Mainly I just want him to see you, and your axe, while I talk to him.”

  Gotrek pondered this, then shrugged. “Sounds like too much bother. I’ll just stay here and drink.”

  Felix nearly choked. The Slayer turning away from the possibility of violence? The end times truly had come. “But you don’t like the beer. It tastes like fish.”

  “It’s still beer,” said Gotrek, and turned back to stare at the wall.

  Felix sighed. He really wanted Gotrek along. There were few things more intimidating than a Slayer, and Gotrek was a particularly impressive example of the breed. It might mean the difference between success or failure in his negotiations. He leaned forwards. “Listen Gotrek, I can’t leave Marienburg until I resolve this matter. If you don’t help me, it might take weeks—weeks of drinking fishy beer. On the other hand, if you come with me, I could have the letter today, and we could be on our way back to Altdorf, where the beer doesn’t taste like fish. What do you think?”

  As Gotrek thought this through, the barmaid brought him his next round and Felix his breakfast. Gotrek took up the fresh mug as she set it in front of him, raised it to his lips, then paused, his nose wrinkling. He grunted, drank anyway, then set the mug down again, swallowing with effort. “All right, manling. I’ll come.”

  Kaasveltstraat was a wealthy street in the middle of the quietly prosperous Noordmuur district, lined on both sides with tidy stone-and-brick three-storey townhouses, each with a white marble stoop leading up to a sturdy wooden front door, and fronted with diamond-paned windows that glittered in the chilly afternoon sun. Hans Euler’s house was on the east side of the street, which butted up against a canal, and its upper storeys hung out over the water at the back. It all looked very solid and respectable, not how Felix had imagined the den of a pirate’s son to look at all.

  Gotrek stood behind him on the cobbled street, trying to reach an itch under his cast, as Felix stepped up to the door to knock—and hesitated. He was not looking forward to what was to follow. These sorts of situations always made him squirm. Why was he even doing this? He had never cared about his father’s business. It didn’t matter to him if the old man lost a portion of it to someone else. As far as Felix was concerned the whole enterprise could go up in flames. He had half a mind to go back to the Three Bells and forget the whole thing.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he cursed under his breath and knocked. Family was a stickier trap than any spider’s web.

  After a moment, a prim little butler in a high-collared black doublet opened the door. He had a spit-curl of oiled black hair plastered to his forehead, and his mouth pursed with disdain as he looked Felix up and down.

  “Oui?” he said.

  “Felix Jaeger to see Hans Euler,” said Felix. “And my companion, Gotrek Gurnisson.”

  The butler’s eyes widened a fraction as he saw Gotrek, then he regained his composure. He made a bow that had more moves in it than a chess game. “Please to enter, messieurs. Monsieur Euler is expecting you.”

  Felix and Gotrek stepped through the door into a wood-panelled entryway with a tight spiral staircase on one side and a door that opened into a large parlour at the back. A bay window in the parlour looked out over the canal. Felix sized up the house as the butler closed the door behind them. It was small, but richly furnished with heavy tables and chairs. Dark oil paintings of men in tight ruffs crowded the walls and expensive Estalian rugs covered the polished wooden floors. It all told Felix that Herr Euler wasn’t in his father’s league, but he was still a wealthy man.

  “Your sword, monsieur?” said the butler, clicking his heels together as he bowed.

  Felix unbuckled his sword belt and handed his rune sword to him.

  The butler bowed again and turned to Gotrek. “And ze axe, monsieur dwarf?”

  Gotrek just stared at him with his single, expressionless eye.

  The butler held his gaze for a brief moment, and looked about to speak again, but then thought better of it. He bowed convulsively and turned away, his face pale. “It is of no matter,” he stuttered. “With only ze one arm, how is it possible that you might use it?”

  Felix could have informed him otherwise, but let it go.

  The butler put Felix’s sword in a small cupboard by the door, then bowed them towards the stairs. “If messieurs will come this way?”

  They followed him up to the first floor, where he stopped at a door just at the top of the spiral stair and knocked. A muffled voice called and he opened the door.

  “Felix Jaeger and companion, monsieur,” he said into the room, then bowed and edged aside, allowing Felix and Gotrek to enter.

  They stepped into the middle of a long room with tall diamond-paned windows along one wall. It was in every way a much lighter room than the one below it. A fire crackled in a small fireplace opposite the door. To the left, a set of graceful Bretonnian chairs was arranged around a low table, and to the right was a grand desk with, behind it, mounted on a cherrywood sideboard, an ironbound safe of dwarf make, that seemed a bit brusque and business-like in the otherwise cultured surroundings.

  Standing by the desk with an expression of welcome on his mild round face was the least piratical-looking man Felix had ever seen. He was thick and short and balding, with a shapeless lump of a nose and mild blue eyes. His conservatively tailored clothes were of the most expensive Middenland broadcloth, and he held a silver-headed cane in one pudgy hand. He looked much more merchant than pirate. Perhaps, thought Felix, in these modern times there isn’t much difference.

  “Messieurs, Herr Euler,” said the butler.

  Herr Euler’s warm smile faltered when he saw Felix in his rough travelling clothes, and fell entirely when Gotrek’s half-naked, tattooed bulk sidled through the narrow door.

  He turned to the butler. “Guiot! The dwarf has his axe!” Felix decided Euler’s eyes weren’t quite so mild after all.

  The butler turned pink and bowed vigorously. “I apologise, monsieur, but he did not wish, and I did not think… er, that is, crippled as he is, he cannot…”

  “It is you who are crippled, Guiot,” Euler snapped. “With cowardice.” He sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Very well, send up Harald and Jochen with food and drink for our guests. You may go.”

  “Oui, monsieur. I am sorry, monsieur.” The butler bowed again and withdrew.

  Euler reassembled his smile as he turned to Felix. “Herr Jaeger,” he said, stepping forwards and holding out a hand. “It is good to meet you at last.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Herr Euler,” said Felix, shaking his hand.

  “My apologies for my outburst,” Euler continued. “And to you, master dwarf. Your presence surprised me, that is all. Please, will you sit?”

  He motioned to the fragile-looking chairs. Felix sat down with care, making sure his boots and buckles didn’t scrape anything. Gotrek plopped down on another as though the exquisite thing was a tavern bench. Euler winced as it creaked in complaint, but maintained his smile.

  “I must say, Herr Jaeger,” he said. “I am surprised to see you here, and before time too. From your father’s letters, I expected to be visited by solicitors or assassins, not family members.” He chuckled. “Ah well, I suppose the old gentleman finally saw the wisdom of my offer at last.”

  “Your offer?” Felix frowned. “Your pardon, Herr Euler. What offer is this? My father said nothing of an offer.”

  Herr Euler’s broad brow puckered. “Why, I offered to buy a share in Jaeger and Sons and, as he is getting on, help him with the running of the main office, as well as setting up a new office in Marienburg to facilitate his dealings with overseas merchants.”

  Felix raised his eyebrows at this, then glanced over at Gotrek. If things got difficult, he was going to want his support.
The Slayer was staring at the floor, paying not the least attention, his cast laying limp in his lap. Felix hoped he was paying enough attention to know when it was time to look menacing.

  “My father put it slightly differently,” Felix said at last. “He called it blackmail, rather than an offer. He said you had a letter that you meant to show the authorities in Altdorf if he failed to give you a controlling interest in Jaeger and Sons.”

  There were footsteps in the hall and two men entered, one carrying a silver coffee service, and the other a tray of jam tarts. Though they were dressed in black doublets and breeches with lace at the cuffs and ribbons at the knees, Felix thought he had never seen two more unlikely footmen. They were massive men, each well over six feet tall, with bulging muscles that strained the velvet of their uniforms, hair pulled back in tarred queues, and faces that wore the scars of lifetimes of battle. The hands of the man who carried the coffee service were nearly as large as the tray he balanced it upon.

  Felix looked again at Gotrek. He continued to stare at the floor, seemingly unaware as the two behemoths moved with extreme care through the room’s maze of featherweight furniture and set down the refreshments on the table between Felix and Euler. Guiot the butler hovered at the door.

  “It was not blackmail, Herr Jaeger,” said Euler patiently as he picked up a jam tart. “I have no love for the dirty dealings our fathers once engaged in, and only want to make things right. What I suggested was that if your father allowed me to purchase part of Jaeger and Sons, we would, together, make amends for our mutual criminal past. But that if he refused my offer and remained in breach of imperial law, I would have no choice, as a law-abiding citizen, but to report him to the proper authorities.”