And then, suddenly, he was out of the tunnel. The maze of spikes at the end of the subterranean stream had been snapped and twisted aside. That could only have been the work of Litzenreich’s wizardry.

  He found himself in a much wider, deeper river. It must have been the Reik. He was out of Altdorf, downstream from the city walls.

  He saw lanterns close to the outlet, could make out shadowy figures holding them, heard the sound of voices—and a sudden shout.

  “There! Another one!”

  He ducked down below the surface, and an arrow hit the water by the side of his face. Deflected by the impact against the river, it missed his shoulder by an inch. Another shaft sliced past his chest. Konrad dived deeper, kicked around and began swimming up the Reik, towards the city. The troops would not expect that, he hoped. The current was not as strong as it had been in the tunnel. Forced into the confines of the culvert, the stream had seemed more powerful than the Reik, the greatest river in the Old World.

  He wondered who the soldiers thought they were firing at, but he was in no position to argue with them.

  His original idea had been to release Litzenreich and Ustnar from their cells, then escape from the city with them. He had had no reason to stay in Altdorf—it had seemed unlikely that Silver Eye was here—and helping the other two to flee meant he could not remain.

  But now he had to return, had to get back into the Imperial capital, into the underground city where Skullface held Elyssa captive.

  He ceased swimming and rolled over onto his back, cautiously lifting his face above the surface in order to breathe, poised to dive below again. He saw the lights some forty yards downstream, on the far bank of the river. For the moment he was safe, and the same must have been true of the magician and the dwarf.

  Evading a handful of militia would be simple for Litzenreich. Although wounded and naked and unarmed, now that they were beyond the city the other two were more than a match for any of the dangers they might encounter in this region.

  Konrad would have liked to have them both with him. They would be very useful companions when he ventured into the unknown network of passages beneath the city, Ustnar for his tunnelling and fighting skills, Litzenreich for his wizardry. But there was no reason why they should have wished to accompany him, even if he could have found them.

  As so often in the past, he was on his own. And that was how he preferred it. Litzenreich could not be trusted. Wolf had been right about sorcerers.

  For a moment, he wondered about Wolf and where he might be. Was he still in Kislev, on the border? Was there still a border, or had the northern hordes overrun the land? But if things were that bad, news would have reached Altdorf and Sergeant Taungar would surely have made reference to the campaign when he had recruited Konrad into the Imperial guard.

  He swam up river, slowly. That seemed the best way to enter the capital, but the city walls were far away and apparently coming no nearer. Although not as powerful as the underground current, the tide was very strong, and Konrad found himself growing more weary, as though fighting against a remorseless adversary. There was a boom across the river, he remembered, a floating barrier to prevent vessels proceeding further up the Reik without permission—and without paying river dues.

  The river was always blocked at night, and he could see that the area was well lit. It would also be under constant surveillance, particularly as the alarm had been sounded. He would do better finding another way in, and he began searching for a place to come ashore.

  This was no ordinary riverside, where the ground sloped down to the water’s edge. Even beyond the city walls, the Reik was lined with high quays for the ships and boats waiting to enter the capital. He made his way across to the northern bank, which seemed a little less crowded.

  Despite all that had happened, he realized that it could only have been an hour since he arrived at the army barracks. The night was still young, and there was plenty of activity aboard the vessels berthed along the river. He had to be careful that he was not seen or heard by the men on watch on board all the ships and boats.

  There was a gap of thirty yards between a sea-going merchant craft and a humble river barge, and Konrad swam to a point midway between the two. It was ten feet to the top of the quay, and he grabbed hold of a frayed rope dangling from a bollard above.

  He stayed there for several minutes, only his head above the water while he leaned against the wooden piling and regained his breath, and he kept gazing around and above for signs of observation. It was a dark night; neither moon had yet risen.

  Finally, he began hauling himself up out of the water. Under most circumstances, he could have shinned up such a rope in two or three seconds; but he was exhausted, the rope was wet and slippery, and it took twice as long to reach the halfway point.

  He heard voices above and looked up, seeing two faces staring down. They may not have noticed him in the shadows, and he froze. But then the rope swayed slightly and started to rise. They were pulling him up. He was about to let go and drop back into the safety of the water when one of the two men called down to him.

  “Hold on, mate! We’ll get ya outa there.”

  Their accent was unfamiliar; they were not Altdorf soldiers. They must have been sailors from some other part of the Empire, and they must have believed Konrad had fallen into the river from one of the boats upstream.

  He had lost his other boot in the culvert, and the only other things he wore which could betray his current profession were his sword belt and scabbard. Without a sword, they had no function.

  One-handedly, Konrad swiftly unbuckled the military belt and let it fall.

  “Ya doing fine, mate. Soon havya up.”

  The two mariners hauled him up, and both reached down to grab his arms. He accepted the grip of one, not wanting to risk both of them seizing him in case this was a trap.

  A second or two later, he was up on the dockside. The sailor released his grip, and the two men laughed as they stared at him.

  “Thanks,” he said, deliberately swaying to one side, then pretending to regain his balance. “Can’t get used to the ground not moving, you know.”

  “Yeah,” agreed the one whose hand he had taken, and he laughed again, “we know. Where’s your ship?”

  Konrad jerked his thumb upriver, towards the city. “lust there. I’ll be fine. Thanks. Be fine. Or you want a drink? Maybe we should go for a drink, huh?”

  “Some other time, mate,” said the second sailor. “Looks like ya’ve had enough. Don’t want ta end up in the drink again, do ya?”

  Konrad shook his head, and kept on shaking it. “No,” he said. “No. No.” He backed away, staggering a little. “But next time, next time, the drinks are on me. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Right.”

  He waved to his rescuers, then turned and made his way slowly along the quay. He could tell they were still watching him, making sure that he did not veer to one side and plummet back into the Reik. He reached the barge, turned and waved to them both, then kept on going. Next time he looked back, they were out of sight.

  He straightened up, wiped the water from his face, and wondered how to get back inside the city.

  Altdorf was the Imperial capital. It did not bar all its gates at dusk. Its citizens did not hide away in terror until dawn, dreading the creatures that prowled the night. The hours of darkness were not lost to the city, as they were in so many villages and towns throughout the Empire. Altdorf felt itself secure, that there were enough troops in the city to protect it against any danger.

  It was true that Altdorf need not fear what lay beyond the city walls—but Konrad had discovered that the greatest threat was what lay beneath the capital.

  He made his way along the quayside towards the white walls of the city, where the last massive tower seemed to grow out of the depths of the river. Under normal circumstances, it would have been easy to pass through the gate on the inner side of the tower. For a few pence, a bribe to the watch, sailors whose vessels were berthed downriver were allowed in and out of Altdorf no matter what the hour. Their most frequent destination was the Street of a Hundred Inns, but they could also take advantage of the other nocturnal attractions which the Empire’s greatest city had to offer to both its citizens and its visitors.

  Cautiously, keeping to the shadows, Konrad approached the entrance. It appeared that there was more security at the river gate than seemed appropriate. The area was well lit, and through the opening he could see that several troops were on guard, as well as members of the watch. A number of sailors from different lands were arguing and shouting, trying to leave the city, but each of them was being interrogated and checked before they were allowed out.

  A handful of men passed through in the other direction without any such difficulty. The militia were only inspecting those who wanted to leave. They would be under orders to find a wizard and dwarf. The latter should present no difficulty, even to the watch, assuming that one should attempt to pass through. But Konrad wondered how they were expected to trap a magician.

  Perhaps there was another sorcerer in the guard house, and he could detect when a fellow practitioner was in the vicinity.

  If he were not soaking wet and had a few coins on him, Konrad would have been able to pass into the capital quite easily; but he was soaking wet and he had no coins. The golden crown Taungar had given him when he enlisted had been in his tunic before the battle, but it was gone. His clothes would never dry, not at this hour, not now that winter was nigh. Already he was shivering with cold, and he must shed his sodden garments soon.

  Konrad watched as the sailors passed out of the city. Most of them were in groups. He needed only one, because what he had to do must be done quickly and silently, and the one he wanted had to be about the right size. He waited. Finally, a lone figure who was suitable emerged from the gatehouse. He was walking very slowly, trying to hold himself straight, but staggering slightly.

  “Bastards,” he muttered under his breath. “Altdorf bastards.” He glanced back at the city and spat over his shoulder.

  “Yer right there, mate,” agreed Konrad, stepping towards him from the darkness.

  “Yeah,” grumbled the drunken sailor. “Take all our money, then won’t let us out of the damned place.”

  “Same here,” said Konrad, and he put his arm around the man’s shoulder.

  “You’re all wet,” he complained, trying to evade Konrad’s grip.

  Konrad raised his arm, cupping the man’s mouth to silence him, then dragged him back into the darkness. The sailor tried to struggle, but it was no use. A swift blow to the back of his head with Konrad’s clenched fist, and he became still. A second later, he was lying on the ground. Another half a minute and his outer garments had been stripped off. Konrad tore off all his own clothes and pulled on the sailor’s shirt and jacket, his breeches and boots.

  The man had told the truth, Konrad discovered. Altdorf had taken all his money. Konrad fastened the sailor’s belt buckle and examined the dagger that he had carried. It was a short narrow blade, probably used for gutting fish. He cut the metal buttons from his new coat. They might pass as coins long enough for him to enter the city. The guard would hardly chase after him for a few pence, he hoped. If they did, it would be too bad for them.

  “Thanks, mate,” he whispered to the supine sailor. “We’re all bastards in Altdorf.”

  He pulled the man’s cap down over his wet hair and walked towards the city gate, clutching the three shiny buttons in his left hand. The clothes were a reasonable fit, although the boots were a little loose and rubbed at his ankles.

  The watchman at the entrance barely glanced at Konrad as he waved him through.

  “Your boys aren’t making much tonight, Harald,” he heard one of the soldiers say to one of the watch.

  “Wish you lads could be here every night,” came the reply from a tall figure wearing a copper badge. “But I suppose if they were, your troops would also start taking a cut.”

  And then Konrad was past the two officers and back within the walls of Altdorf.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The only way Konrad knew of to return to the underground cave where he had seen Elyssa and Skullface was to retrace his previous route. Even if he could find his way back down into the cavern, they would probably be long gone, but he must make the attempt.

  That meant going back into the army headquarters, then down through the military prison. He expected that the barracks would be in a state of confusion; perhaps the beastmen he had heard charging to attack through the tunnel had even tried to break out into the capital.

  When he reached the entrance, he stood watching from the shadows. Everything appeared as quiet as it had been when he originally arrived. Two infantrymen were guarding the open gates, but they were leaning against the wall and talking quietly to each other. It seemed no one realized the full significance of what had happened.

  Two prisoners had escaped, and the officer who had discovered the jailbreak had gone in search of them after ordering that all the exits from the city should be checked. But the officer was dead, and his death might not yet be known. It might still be thought that he was in pursuit of the fugitives, following them through the labyrinthine levels deep below Altdorf. Or if his corpse had been discovered, and there was no sign of any beast creatures, it would be believed that he had been slain by Litzenreich and Ustnar.

  If it were known that the officer was the victim of the skaven, that there was a horde of Chaos marauders so very close, then the barracks would have been on full alert and every force in Altdorf would be preparing to join the expedition against the insidious invaders.

  The infiltration was still secret and silent. It seemed that Konrad was the only one who knew. Maybe that was for the best, and he stood a better chance of finding Elyssa if he were alone. An army of extermination would inevitably give too much advance warning of its arrival, and the girl’s captor would have time to escape with his hostage.

  Konrad had to make his way under the city via the military dungeon; the base would also provide him with the weapons and armour which he needed. He had encountered no difficulty entering the barracks earlier, clad in his Imperial guard uniform and wearing the purple plume of an officer. Now, however, he was dressed in the unimpressive garb of a civilian.

  He pulled off the cap and stuffed it into his pocket. His hair was so short that it was dry by now, and its cropped style was in keeping with the ascetic look adopted by the officer class of the Altdorf regiments. Konrad had made his way stealthily towards the militia headquarters. Now he backed further away until he was out of sight of the entrance, straightened himself then marched towards the gates, bringing his heels down as hard as he could.

  “Ten-” he ordered, “-shun!”

  The two sentries sprang to attention in immediate obedience to the order, just as Konrad came in view.

  “Eyes front!” he commanded, emerging from the shadows.

  They gazed past him, their halberds held out at the precise angle by their rigid arms. Konrad marched between them, through the entrance and across the courtyard, making for the brick guardhouse.

  Another sentry stood on guard at the entrance, watching warily as Konrad strode confidently towards him.

  “Who goes there?” he demanded, his hand on his sword hilt.

  “‘Sir’!” snapped Konrad. “Call me ‘sir’, or I’ll have you on a charge for impertinence.”

  “Sir!” echoed the guard, clicking his heels together. He glanced back towards the guardhouse.

  It was the same man who had been on duty when Konrad first arrived. He did not want him to call for assistance from the officer of the watch.

  “At ease,” said Konrad, his voice more casual. “Your commanding officer is expecting me.” He kept walking and drew level with the sentry, who turned as he began to go past.

  “I know you!” said the guard.

  He was very observant, recognizing Konrad in the dim light even though he was wearing completely different clothes, and despite the fact that his face had been partly covered by his helmet the first time.

  His sword was half out of its scabbard, but Konrad already held the sailor’s dagger in his hand. The guard’s torso was protected by his armour and chainmail. Konrad’s arm thrust forwards and up, stabbing the soldier in the throat.

  There was no time not to kill him. He died because he was alert, because he was good at his appointed duty—and because he was not fast enough.

  Konrad clasped his hand over the sentry’s mouth to silence his fatal scream, supporting his body as it dropped towards the ground, then taking his sword from his death grip. A blade in either hand, he hurried towards the entrance.

  “Gunther? What’s going on?”

  Konrad could see an armoured figure within the building, moving towards the doorway, and then another. He knew he could probably dispose of them both before they realized what was happening, but how many more soldiers were inside? He had wanted to sneak in silently, to make his way unseen through the military quarters and down to the tunnels below. Even if he were able to fight his way through against so many troops, he would become the hunted instead of the hunter. This was already a lost cause; it was time to withdraw.

  He slashed with the sword, severing the rope which held the oil lamp over the entrance. As the lantern dropped, he kicked out, smashing it and sending the pieces flying into the guardhouse. Burning oil splashed the ground and the walls, and in seconds the single flame had grown into a raging blaze.

  Konrad turned and sprinted towards the main gates. The two sentries had begun to look around.

  “Fire!” yelled Konrad, dashing towards them. “Fire!”

  The sentries started to run towards the blaze. Then one stopped and called to the other, who also hesitated.

 

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