Gotrek and Felix: The Anthology (48 page)

‘You…’ said Halim. ‘Dwarf… I…’ He burst out laughing.

Felix joined him. ‘I thought…’ he said. ‘I really thought that this time…’

Gotrek sneered. ‘A common snake? Do you insult me?’

A rattle of chains made them turn. The portcullis that blocked the vault door was rising and Yuleh ran through, still bound and gagged.

‘Beloved!’ said Halim, striding to her. He cut her ropes and tore off her gag and they embraced. Gotrek and Felix turned to give them privacy. Gotrek mopped his face with a cloth-of-gold scarf.

‘Now friends,’ said Halim, turning from Yuleh after a long moment. ‘The Lion Crown.’

They spread out and searched the six rooms of the vault, until at last Yuleh found it, shoved into a mahogany cabinet. Halim took it with trembling fingers. It was a beautiful thing, simple but elegant. A circular silver band set at the front with a carved amber lion’s head, out of which gazed deep emerald eyes.

‘This,’ he said, ‘is the true heart of Ras Karim.’

As they walked back to the vault door, stepping around the motionless body of the giant snake, Halim saw the fallen Serpent Crown. He stooped and picked it up, then stood looking from one crown to the other.

‘Destroy it, beloved,’ said Yuleh, staring at the cobra-headed circlet with distaste. ‘Destroy it so that it may never again tempt you or any other caliph to cruelty.’

Halim hesitated. He looked toward the door. ‘Ghal may not have been the only conspirator. We may be surrounded by traitors. The palace guard may turn against us. What if I have need of its protection? Of its power?’

Yuleh stared at him, her eyes troubled. ‘Then it will not be Ghal who the snake devoured, but you. And it will be Ghal who walks out of this room, not you.’

Felix coughed. ‘It didn’t do much to protect Falhedar from you, did it? In fact, it seems to have inspired you to overthrow him. Put it on and there will soon be another Halim who will rise up to overthrow you.’

Halim frowned, still uncertain, but at last he sighed. ‘You are right. It must be destroyed. It is an evil thing, that wants too much to be worn. I will destroy it, as soon as…’ He hesitated again. ‘As soon as…’ He cursed. ‘No! It is too tempting! It must be done now!’ He turned to Gotrek. ‘Friend dwarf. Your axe has slain one serpent today. Now slay another.’

He threw the bloody crown on the floor before the Slayer. Gotrek nodded and lashed down with his axe. With a flash of green flame, the crown was split in two. The others stepped back. The two halves of the thing sizzled and melted into a puddle of black slag.

‘Magic,’ sneered Gotrek, disgusted.

Halim blinked at the smouldering black mess, then nodded. ‘Thank you, friend dwarf. You have done me a great service.’ He lifted his head and squared his shoulders. ‘Come, let us see what fate awaits us in the throne room.’

9

Four days later
Gotrek and Felix stood with Halim and Yuleh outside the stables of the caliph’s palace – their palace now.

There had been a wedding, and a coronation. Yuleh, the last of the line of the old caliphs, had crowned Halim with the Lion Crown, then knelt with him before the high priest of Ras Karim to be pronounced man and wife, and caliph and queen, as the multitudes cheered outside the great gold domed temple in the centre of the city.

Now the newlyweds bowed to the poet and the Slayer.

‘Friends,’ Halim said. ‘We could not have done it without you.’ He touched his hand to his chest. ‘Truly. All might have gone very differently had you not been there. Even at my moment of determination the crown tempted me. Had you not been there to destroy it…’

‘We are indebted to you both,’ said Yuleh, who looked every inch a queen in flowing blue robes and sapphires in her black hair.

Gotrek shrugged. ‘It was only a snake.’

‘The snake was the least of it,’ said Halim, grinning. ‘As you well know.’ He turned and clapped his hands. ‘We have gifts for you. To aid you in your hunt for the Lurking Horror.’

A servant came forward leading a camel. Its humped back was piled high with trunks and packs and water skins.

‘Also these,’ said Yuleh, taking a small pouch from her robes. ‘Gold and gems enough to take you around the world.’ She pressed the pouch into Felix’s hand. ‘Though you would be welcome to stay here as long as you liked.’

Felix wouldn’t have minded in the least. With the rebellion over, the palace was a beautiful, peaceful place, full of fountains, gardens, and delectable women.

‘No thanks,’ said Gotrek. ‘We’ve stayed too long already.’ He saluted the royal couple in dwarf fashion, fist over his heart.

Felix sighed and bowed resignedly. Gotrek had never been one to relax and enjoy the good times while he could.

A short while
later, Gotrek and Felix led their camel through the dusty streets of Ras Karim on their way to the city gate. Felix looked around with interest, taking in all the curious costumes, the unusual architecture and the unintelligible script of the signs.

‘More for my journals,’ he said. ‘It always amazes me, the infinite variations of man’s many cultures. How strange and alien the customs, how odd–’

‘Rubbish,’ grunted Gotrek. ‘Man is the same everywhere. Only the hats are different.’ He picked up his pace, tugging on the camel’s bridle. ‘Now hurry up, manling. I’ve got a monster to slay.’

Richard Salter

Thunder rumbled in
the overcast sky and the rain came down in sheets. It was as gloomy as dusk, yet the day had not reached noon. Felix Jaeger stood silently in the graveyard, his hair matted and his clothes drenched. The downpour bothered him not at all.

A priest approached and cleared his throat.

Felix looked up. ‘Thank you for doing this at such short notice.’

The priest bowed his head.

‘I am happy to help. I have never… officiated the funeral of a Slayer before. However… it was my understanding that a customary send off for one such as he would involve more of a…’

‘Celebration?’

‘Indeed, yes.’

‘He did not die a hero’s death,’ Felix explained. ‘Anything more would not be appropriate.’

‘Very well.’

Six pallbearers carried the coffin towards the open grave. They stopped close by and placed the casket on iron stands. At such short notice, Felix had only been able to procure a human-sized casket and a cheap one at that. Its occupant would be mortified if he could see this dreary scene.

The priest began the incantation while Felix stood impassive. His eyes were downcast, water dripping from the end of his nose. Rain collected in the brim of his hat, occasionally overflowing like torrents of tears.

He had told nobody about the funeral. While word had a habit of getting out, it was unlikely anyone would reach here in time. There were many who would want to attend, either to mourn Gotrek’s passing, or to dance on his grave.

Felix was aware of a figure standing beside him, someone who didn’t fit into either category.

The tavern was
packed with revellers when Gotrek and Felix dragged themselves inside. Neither of them felt like joining in the fun. They sat down at the only free table, in the corner, awash with spilled beer and other detritus. They ordered food and ale, and then fell into a silent funk. Felix watched everyone else having a good time with weary resentment.

‘It feels like my feet have pounded every cobblestone in Kutenholz,’ Felix said in an attempt to break the silence between them. He had to speak up to be heard over the background din.

Gotrek merely grunted. Thankfully their food, a tough, unidentifiable meat with day-old bread, arrived so they had an excuse not to talk. If Felix weren’t so hungry he would already be in his room, collapsed on his bed with exhaustion. He suspected that the Slayer, despite his formidable stamina, felt much the same.

As soon as they were done eating, Gotrek drained his tankard, bid Felix a gruff goodnight and shuffled over to the stairs. Felix waited until the Slayer had disappeared from view and then stood up. He wanted to ask everyone here if they had seen anything strange these past few weeks, but he was too bone-tired. Their search for the cursed liche Pragarti had led them to this town, but then the trail had gone cold. It was frustrating to say the least. Perhaps tomorrow he and Gotrek should lay low and let trouble come to them. If history was any indicator, they shouldn’t have to wait long.

For now, to bed.

Felix dragged himself up the stairs. Each step took more effort than the one before. Once at the top he stumbled to his door and struggled to get the key in the lock. He felt so disconnected, he was sure he must have been drugged. But no, the fog in his head was only due to fatigue. He locked the door behind him and fell onto his bed, not even bothering to undress. Sleep took hold almost immediately.

Felix awoke suddenly.
He sat upright and listened. Had he dreamt the noise? Despite the gloom he saw nothing out of place. He was just about to lie down when another crash jolted him fully awake.

Felix jumped out of bed and grabbed his sword. The disturbance came from the next room. Gotrek!

He burst into the corridor and tried to open Gotrek’s door, but it was still locked. Now he could hear shouting: Gotrek’s gruff voice telling someone to stand still.

Felix assessed the door as best he could in the semi-darkness. The wood nearest the top hinge seemed fairly rotten as he probed it with a finger. He was about to kick the door in when he remembered he had no boots on. A broken foot wasn’t going to help anybody.

Luckily, the innkeeper had been awoken by the noise. He shuffled his ample frame along the corridor, complaining the whole time.

‘What is going on in there?’ he demanded of Felix.

‘Open the door and we’ll find out.’

The landlord sifted through a huge brass ring holding enough keys to keep all of Nuln’s gaols secure.

After what seemed an age he unlocked the door. Felix burst in. The window to Gotrek’s small room was open and the furniture was smashed and tipped over. In the centre of the room, a black-clad assassin was struggling mightily to free his ankle from Gotrek’s grip. The Slayer’s eyes were closed and he didn’t appear to be conscious.

‘Sigmar’s beard!’ the assassin cried. ‘Why won’t you just die?’

Kicking hard, the killer managed to wrest his leg free.

Felix leapt over a toppled wardrobe and threw himself at the assassin, tackling him to the floor. The killer kicked and punched with painful accuracy but Felix clung on. Finally he managed to pin him down.

‘Who sent you?’ Felix growled.

‘Like I’d tell you that,’ the assassin spat. Felix grabbed his sword and pushed the blade against the man’s throat.

‘I’m guessing you didn’t intend this to be a suicide mission, so I’ll ask again. Who sent you?’

‘I wasn’t told a name. My employer just said you would meet at the dwarf’s funeral.’ The assassin stared past Felix and cried, ‘He’s on his feet again!’

Felix knew he’d been fooled as soon as he turned his head. Gotrek was still comatose. Too slow, he turned back as the assassin twisted and punched, connecting with Felix’s jaw, sending him sprawling.

The man disappeared through the window before Felix could even get up.

With enormous difficulty,
Felix dragged the prone body of Gotrek down the stairs. He cringed every time the dwarf’s head bounced off each wooden step. His aching back and weary arms begged him to stop. Finally he reached the bottom. At this hour the tavern was empty and the chairs were stacked on the tables. The landlord had already stomped off to bed, ordering Felix to vacate the premises immediately.

Breathing hard, unable to believe just how heavy one dwarf could be, he dragged his companion across the wooden floor as fast as he could manage. It took him precious seconds to unbolt the door, his hands shaking from the exertion.

At last he was out on the street. He felt drizzle on his face, the slight sting of water helping to cool his overheated skin. The street was empty save for a couple of drunks engaged in a fight on the corner. Felix headed in the other direction, dragging Gotrek two doors down from the inn.

He banged on the door in front of him, then banged harder when there was no response. After a few agonising moments he heard someone inside. A small hatch in the door slid open to reveal a suspicious pair of eyes.

‘What are you doing waking me at this hour?’

‘Please, it’s an emergency.’

‘It had better be!’

‘My friend,’ said Felix, unsure if the apothecary could see the prone body lying in a puddle at the foot of the door. ‘He’s been poisoned. I need you to save him!’

The eyes shifted up, down, left and right, looking for robbers ready to pounce. Warily, their owner opened the door and peered out into the rain. Then he stood back, waiting impatiently while Felix struggled to bring the Slayer inside.

‘You could help!’ Felix said.

‘I
am
helping. If you would rather go elsewhere, that’s fine by me.’

Felix held his tongue.

The apothecary examined the prone Slayer. ‘Hmm,’ he said as he peered into Gotrek’s eyes and checked his throat and neck. He felt for a pulse, a look of amazement on his face. ‘Quite remarkable,’ he said.

‘What is it? Is he going to be all right?’

The apothecary chuckled. ‘My dear fellow, it’s a wonder he isn’t dead already! I see the point of entry here on the arm, likely a poison dart.’

That explained how the assassin had been able to poison Gotrek. The Slayer was legendary for his ability to hear an attacker coming, even in his sleep. After being hit with the dart, Gotrek must have made it to the window, dragged the assassin inside before he could escape, then beat him up while trying to stay consciousness.

‘Can you save him?’

‘Yes, but it won’t be easy.’ The apothecary hurried to the back of his shop and pulled down various jars from a high shelf. ‘Your friend has been poisoned with ragethar, a poison so potent that one drop could kill an ogre. Lucky for you, I have an antidote.’ He peered through crescent-moon spectacles at another label. Felix willed him to hurry up. ‘Ah ha! Here it is, yes.’

He shuffled back to the prone dwarf. Felix noticed he was carrying two jars.

‘The poison needs two antidotes?’ he asked.

‘Hmm? Oh, no no. One of these is the antidote, but that won’t work on its own. I need to slow your friend’s heartbeat down to almost nothing or else the poison will spread faster than the antidote can stop it.’

The apothecary must have noticed Felix’s unconvinced expression. ‘Don’t worry, my dear boy. He’ll be sleeping for a week or so, but when he wakes he’ll be right as rain. Hmm? Yes indeed.’

Felix couldn’t shake the feeling he was heading down a path he’d rather not follow. But what choice did he have? He nodded.

Two minutes later, Gotrek appeared even closer to death than before. There was no sign of breathing, no shadow of life. Felix had never seen him so… helpless. The enormity of what had happened hit him like a mounted regiment. He knew it would be up to him to protect Gotrek while he recovered. Assuming he ever recovered. At the same time, he must find out who poisoned the Slayer.

And then Felix had an idea.

He stood in
the pouring rain, listening to the priest pass last rites over Gotrek’s coffin.

‘You’re out early,’ Felix said to the woman standing beside him.

‘It’s my kind of weather,’ she replied.

‘I thought you couldn’t stand the Slayer.’

Ulrika chuckled. ‘I want to make sure he’s really dead.’

‘How did you hear?’

‘A lady does not reveal her sources.’

‘You are no lady. At least, not any more.’

They stood in silence. Felix was aware that his boots were sinking into the boggy ground. After a time he said, ‘I’m trying to find out who killed him.’

‘Do you have any suspects?’

Felix laughed loudly, drawing stares from the pallbearers and the priest. He cleared his throat and put on a solemn expression.

‘Oh, you’re serious. Where do I start? The most obvious suspect is Pragarti. She’s here in Kutenholz, somewhere.’

‘You know, the most obvious suspect is rarely the real culprit.’

Felix nodded. ‘Aye. While the list of those with a motive might be long, the number of folk likely to be in the vicinity is much shorter.’

‘As far as you know.’ Ulrika was quiet for a moment, then she said, ‘So we should start with Pragarti then?’

‘You know of her?’

‘Of course, I’m looking for her too. Why else do you think I’m in this Sigmar-forsaken town?’ Ulrika stepped towards the casket, her lithe form conjuring thoughts in Felix’s mind that were inappropriate at a funeral. ‘Can I see the body?’ she asked.

‘Why? Are you thirsty?’

‘No!’ Ulrika seemed genuinely offended.

‘A morbid sense of curiosity, perhaps?’

‘I want to examine him for clues.’

‘Fair enough.’ Felix ushered the priest over and whispered in his ear. The holy man nodded and took a step back. Felix signalled to the pallbearers and, with some difficulty, they raised the lid of the casket. All six of them gasped and stood back.

Felix and Ulrika hurried forwards to peer inside.

The coffin was filled with books. Of Gotrek’s body there was no sign.