12: Rat Poison

In the aftermath of the great fight with the wizard, we were cold and hungry, and some of us were wet. Gudrun was looking a bit jaded after his dip in the water. He could have easily drowned. I think he was beginning to learn that adventuring was not all fun and games. In fact, since we had been adventuring, we hadn’t had any fun at all, and not played any games.

We went back to the inn at Elssen and were reassured to see they had dealt with the bodies we had left them. We stayed in the inn overnight and met a ratcatcher fellow called Otto who was also on his way back to Ubersreik. One doesn’t expect ratcatchers to be the most educated folks, of course, but this fellow came across as positively dim. Still, he seemed harmless enough and another member of our group would help with our mutual protection. He also had a small but scraggly dog with him. I’ve no idea what breed it was, but it wasn’t very well trained. I thought ratcatchers’ dogs were famously obedient and loyal but I wondered how long it would be until Otto lost the dog down some sewer or other.

And, as Otto was extremely friendly and talkative, it helped the mood, as who wanted to see Gulgad glaring about looking for things to hit, or Erhardt wondering about obscure magical issues. Listening to Solvej was like talking to a goblin sometimes with her strange accent (I have no idea what goblins really sound like), and no one wanted to listen to Kurtis’ whining. Even Gudrun who had been full of enthusiasm earlier was now looking deflated.

The next day we walked to Traisburg. The small wound I had got from the fanatics on the bridge was starting to itch and had become inflamed. I think I may have been coming down with something. From Traisburg the plan was to get a lift from a boat heading back to Ubersreik. It was slower and less predictable than coach travel but it was a lot cheaper and sometimes if you got lucky you could work for your passage and travel for nothing. We bumped into a trader on our way and as Solvej was nearly out of arrows, we managed to swap the amulet Hagerdorn had given us, for two dozen arrows. You need to be pretty astute to get a bargain like that.

At Traisburg we found a suitable vessel at the boating inn on its way to Ubersreik and tried to get the owner to take us with him, but he already had three able crew. They were staying in the inn with us, and so Solvej had an idea for us to take their places. Unknown to the rest of us, I hasten to add, she got Otto to catch some scabby rats, and then rubbed their bits around some pint glasses before buying the crewmen a drink. As one would expect, they all went down with the galloping trots overnight and in the morning the boatman was mysteriously left with no crew and had little choice but to let us work for him.

When we first met Solvej I felt she wouldn’t harm anyone, mainly because she couldn’t hit anyone with her sling, but also because she seemed kind and friendly. After a few weeks with us, however, she had become much more ruthless and could be quite mean. Sometimes I would see a look in her eye that was genuinely frightening. Was it our fault that she had become like this, or was she just not cut out for this sort of life? But it was a great shock to me that she could be so ruthless as to poison those crewmen simply for a cheap ride home. Feeling ill myself, I was beginning to worry that she might have poisoned me, too.

This did not stop me from enjoying the journey home, however. This really was the best way to travel. En route, with little to do, we talked about our doomings. I explained mine, ‘A greased goat is safer than keeping secrets. I am a ‘greased goat’ in that I was born under the sign of Talios. On the face of it that seems to say it will be best for me to go with my instincts and be truthful to others and honest with myself. But, in my reading at the temple, in some obscure tomes I find myself flicking through, occasionally, I have seen references to keeping secrets as a euphemism for more tangible and sinister things. I have seen the phrase used to represent ideals of the Dark Gods, and I believe I have seen it associated with one in particular, S______. If so, then my dooming is clear.

Kurtis’ dooming was ‘As the piper plays your doom, you hear your heart breaking’. He had obviously spent a lot of time contemplating this because he told us all about a spectacular fight he would one day have when he plays his lute in front of a huge cheering crowd in a musical battle against one of the Dark Gods playing the pipes. Honestly, the bloke’s so far up his own arse I don’t know why I hang out with him.

Erhardt’s dooming, he revealed, was ‘A friend in need brings thy death with speed.’ We looked at each other wondering which of us might be that friend. I had just borrowed a shilling from the man to pay for the common room at the Traisburg inn, so I might qualify. The thing about Grey Wizards, however, is that they are so aloof they don’t really have friends, so I thought Erhardt was probably safe, at least while he was hanging out with us.

Solvej’s dooming was ‘a terrible stench precedes your death.’ Solvej declared that she intended to avoid going into any sewers or other smelly places, but to be fair a terrible stench had preceded her for most of the time I had known her, what with the pork pies, lard on toast, pickled herrings, and rat pie, so I decided her death might come at any time.

Otto revealed his dooming, ‘Beware the young, the child, yea, even the babe.’ As the man already had six children, I would imagine he would beware of having more. But as they were all girls, he was still desperate for a boy. In fact, he said he wouldn’t sleep with his wife again until she bore him a son.

Dwarfs don’t have doomings, apparently. They are strange folk.

When we got back to Ubersreik, we couldn’t wait to report to Nacht. Near the docks, however, Otto found a golden thing in the mud of the riverbank. None of the rest of us saw it, but we would have recognised it as the medal Rudi had been awarded for our heroics.

Nacht listened to our account of the investigation, seeming to know some of the stuff, anyway, but genuinely surprised or grateful for other bits. She was content that the incident did not point to a rift within the city guard, and handed over the money she had promised us, ten gold crowns. I must admit I was surprised that she should honour her part of the deal so readily. I find that in dealing with those in power where they have the advantage, there always seems to be one more thing you can do for them, some subtle detail you overlooked and they didn’t, or they just blatantly shaft you.

After the meeting with Nacht we were sure we could report to Pfeffer confident that she would have no more reason to keep us in the watch. Kurtis, meanwhile, was working on his newest daydream. He had the idea that Nacht might require some sort of court entertainment, even though it was as plain as day that the lady had no time for the frivolous. Kurtis also decided that in his role as the personal musician to Nacht he would be in a position to eavesdrop on private conversations, and report back to the lady what he had heard. A musical spy. He talked to one of Nacht’s staff about it, and although they didn’t employ him in that role on the spot, to my surprise, they didn’t laugh in his face.

And so Pfeffer had no choice but to release us from our sentence in the watch, and we were free to go on our way. Kurtis told me that as the last thing he did in the watch, Pfeffer had asked him on a date, but he had refused. Knowing Kurtis well, as I do, I realised that what had actually happened was he had asked her on a date, and of course, she had refused him.

We said goodbye to some of the watchmen who were hanging around the barracks, and it would have been nice to rub Rudi’s nose in our escape, but he was nowhere to be seen, and no one had seen him for a day or so.

Elated about our release from the watch we headed straight for the pub, the Hog Pit, which we resolved to make our new local, away from the watchmen of the Raspy Raven. But that evening we were suddenly confronted with some of the responsibilities of our new freedom. We no longer had access to free board, however flea ridden our beds had been, nor access to free food however awful the lard on toast was. So we could see our reward money from Nacht might not last as long as we thought it would.

I headed back to the temple of Shallya and after I conspicuously donated my two crowns to the temple. I also made donations on behalf of Erhardt and Otto. Father Gunther accepted that as I had done my penance, I would be welcome back in the cult and could have my old cell back, so I was fine. The rest of them had to fend for themselves. I didn’t see any of the others for a few weeks, which was fine by me. I found a book on herbs in the temple library and read that avidly and committed what I could to memory. I decided to try to create for myself one of the healing draughts described in the tome.

During this time, however, I developed a fever and began feeling nauseous and fatigued. I had contracted, Father Gunther diagnosed, Ratte Fever. I think I must have caught it when I was mauled by the febrile fanatics near Elssen. I wanted to take to my cell, but at least I had my herbalism book to read. Perhaps the book could even help me with a cure for the disease. Father Gunther recommended a bit of flagellation as a cure, but he seemed to recommend flagellation as a cure for a lot of stuff at the temple. I felt that there should be a more scientific process for dealing with the illness, so I bought a big chunk of cheese with the last of my money, and began regularly smearing it all over my face and body.

So, that was that. I was free of the watch, free of Kurtis’ look-at-me whining, free of the rest of my watch patrol with their nose for trouble and general incompetence. And I wondered what to do next.