Boromeo von Tarlenheim took off his hat in punctilious salute to a superior officer. ‘It’s a surprise to see you here, sir. I had assumed you were with your regiment in Mittenheim.’
Colonel Barkozy returned the salute. ‘My dear captain, I fear I have to tell you news you will not wish to hear. All is lost in the duchy. The Prinzengarde and the rest of the prince’s army have been shattered, Prince Henry himself died in the rout. I was among the last to escape before the city was closely invested. I have just now delivered the solemn news to His Majesty. I imagine that very soon we will hear the passing bell begin from all the city’s churches.’
Boromeo was shocked. ‘This is dreadful news, colonel. What of my brother?’
‘I have no idea, I’m afraid. He was with the prince when the regiment took a last stand on the road to Sankt Hubert. Perhaps he may have fled or been taken prisoner.’
‘And Andreas Wittig, sir?’
‘Fell at the prince’s side, I fear.’
‘Then I must return to the Leibgarde barracks. There will be a muster of an army of defence and I must rally to the standard. We must confront these damned invaders and destroy them for what they have dared to do.’
‘A noble sentiment, young man, and I commend you for it. But you now have a different and more pressing task. His Majesty has charged me with a solemn mission and has named you particularly to assist me, as a loyal son of the House of Tarlenheim. In this box you see here at my saddle is a great treasure, the Crown of Tassilo which I am charged in all haste and secrecy to deliver to the abbey of Medeln, where it can be kept safe in the present crisis. None may know our mission. For if all fails and the Elphbergs are driven out of Ruritania, it shall not fall into the hands of the Elector Max. Without it in his possession he cannot be considered a legitimate king of this land, but only a damned usurper, may he rot in hell.’
‘Amen to that, colonel. Then wait here while I saddle one of my blacks and collect some necessary baggage. I shan’t be long.’
The colonel watched from the saddle as the boy raced under the arch and into the yard. A small smile quirked his lips under his moustache.
***
‘This is great!’ Wilchin declared. ‘Like being back at the Conduit, wiv you two at me side.’
‘Yeah,’ Andreas scoffed. ‘Except we’re not ill, starving or half naked. How I miss them days.’
Karl chuckled. He communed with their horses, saddled and ready in the yard of the Great Stable of the Residenz of Mittenheim. Andreas’s Orcus was very excited and feeling compensated for having missed the Great Ride. He had every belief this ride would be better still and had hopes of the adventure taking them to Fäerie: a possibility he had picked up from Brunhild. Wilchin had been mounted on a stable hack, a bay gelding called Fortuno who was in deep awe of Brunhild; the distinction of being with her on the road made him nervous. Karl reached out and give him a mental caress and pat.
The real find was the horse Karl had saddled for Willi, whenever he should turn up. Brunhild had alerted him that Whitetail was in the stables, the palace mare Willi had ridden out to Glottenburg and back. So Karl had appropriated her, and found her more than willing to go along with the mission, though she had no particular affection for her former rider and was unimpressed that he had been made a Graf.
‘How long’s Lord Willi going to be?’ Karl was beginning to be impatient, considering the challenges in front of him. ‘It’s getting dark now.’
Andreas grinned. ‘He said he had to square it with the prince, and also avoid telling your master he was going. Problem is, His Royal Highness may not be the most curious of men but he’s already suspicious of me and my sword, and one more supernatural twist of his lion’s tail will get him more interested than is safe. So I hope Lord Willi minds what he says. Last we need is having to take along the prince and the Prinzengarde.’
‘I’d burst a gut having to carry them wiv us. Not sure I can pull it off even wiv just us four.’
‘Yer can do it, Karlo,’ Wilchin asserted loyally. ‘Don’t we ‘ave to take all our cloves off though?’
‘I just knew that part of the story would stick in your head,’ Andreas laughed.
‘No, that’s the crossing into Fäerie,’ Karl said. ‘Where we has to avoid going, and stop Dudley doing it too.’
‘Wouldn’t mind returning there again, meself,’ Wilchin observed hopefully. ‘Maybe we can go some time soon?’
Karl shook his head. ‘From what you was saying it may be swarming with hostile elves at the moment, at war wiv Jonas’s clan. Somefink tells me they wouldn’t welcome us wiv open arms.’
‘So why not let Dudley blunder into them and let them sort him out, just like the elemental did for the wicked old Graf?’ mused Andreas.
‘Easy way out that’d be, wouldn’t it?’ Karl agreed. ‘But if we did that, Boro’d be dead, sacrificed so Dudley can make the crossing into Fäerie. What we’re supposed to be doing is sealing the door at the abbey for good if we can. That’s what Lady Fenice wants us to do, that and save Boro. Then there’s that odd thing that happened.’
‘Yeah, what?’ asked Wilchin.
‘When I fought Dudley at the camp last night, he summoned that same elemental to his aid.’
‘So?’
‘Jonas told me elementals don’t have much interest in humans or their world, but this one allowed himself to be summoned across by a human wizard. Sumfink’s up that Jonas don’t know about. It’s not just humans crossing into Fäerie; the spirits of Fäerie are finding their way into our world. The old Graf or Dudley have done something really stupid in their tinkering wiv the World Beyond. I think Lady Fenice is more clued into what’s going on than our elf. He thought she was just being a busybody. But I think she and her people have a better idea of the dangers building up.’
The three youths brooded on that for a while, until a muffled oath reached them from the Outer Court, where Willi von Strelsau had skidded in an uncleared pile of horseshit.
‘That’s good luck, my lord,’ Wilchin observed cheerily.
‘Really?’ Willi said. ‘What excellent news. Since you’re my sodding groom come here and clean off my shoes before we go.’
The other boys laughed as Wilchin cursed and went to do his duty with the help of a nearby standpipe as Willi waited in his stockings.
‘I found you Whitetail for a mount, my lord,’ Karl announced. ‘You remember her?’
‘My arse does, for sure.’
‘Excuse me saying, my lord,’ said Andreas. ‘You seem out of sorts.’
‘Well believe it or not, my idiot cousin decided to discuss my imminent departure with his Lord High Marshal, who had the temerity to forbid my going unless he accompanied me.’
‘Oh shit,’ responded Andreas.
‘My thoughts exactly. We had our first real row, first from my side anyway. I let loose a proper tirade. Quite shocked him. Shocked myself too. But who does he think he is? Willi von Strelsau is no child to be shepherded around this perilous world! Heh? I am in fact one of its perils!’
‘Whatever you say, my lord,’ Andreas said, himself taken aback. An angry Wilhelm von Strelsau was a new and uncomfortable sight for him. ‘Perhaps we’d better get going.’
With all four travellers mounted, Karl led the party out through the East Lodge and they took the lane that led to the city’s Land Gate. The first stars were coming out in the deep blue sky as Andreas used his rank and uniform to get the bar opened, though curfew had rung from the city churches.
‘I suppose you know what you’re doing, child,’ Willi said to Karl. ‘Your friends the horses do not like being out in the dark.’
‘Yes, my lord. For what I has in mind, dark is better.’
They rode on for a little while, then Karl called a brief halt and spoke to the others in a low voice. ‘We’ll come to a straight stretch of road before the hills. That’s where we need to get up speed. Me and Brunhild will go first, and you all follow. Don’t forget that if we’re in the right place after the jump the ground may be treacherous. I warned our horses. They know the sort of ground where we’ll end up. So leave the reins slack and let them manage the crossing. Right! Here goes!’
Brunhild began to canter, and had soon raised a gallop. Karl knew what he had to do, but it was trickier when he had seven other bodies to hold in his head and to manage. But he could share the strength and will of Brunhild’s own mind and found himself galloping into a tunnel whose rim was like a circular rainbow in the dark, and then with a wrench in his gut he was in a different sort of dark, under trees. Brunhild was slowing, as her stablemates also did alongside her. Though Whitetail skidded on wet leaves and veered towards the dark pool to their side, she mastered herself and they drew up safely.
‘My God!’ Willi swore softly at Karl’s elbow. ‘True magic. Where are we, boy?’
‘About ten miles from Strelsau, my lord, in the Wenzlerwald. It’s one of Jonas’s secret places, at the bottom of a very strange and old dell in the ancient woods. I’m not sure, but I think the people of olden days made sacrifices to their spirits and gods here.’
‘How could you do what you just did?’
‘The world has special places, my lord. It’s where Jonas says the barriers are thin and magic can be more powerful than in our everyday world, and if you has the gift you can open gateways.’
‘And the most magical of all places in our world is the abbey where your mum is being held captive,’ Andreas chipped in. ‘Jonas never properly explained why that should be, ’cept he told us there’s a hidden power in the place which came directly from the World Beyond. I’m thinking that the abbess of Medeln had been given it to guard, but the wicked abbess who has it now is using the power for herself.’
‘So, what now?’ asked Willi.
‘We can’t go no further for the moment,’ Karl decided. ‘It’d be too dangerous for the horses. We’ll need to find somewhere dry for them and us till dawn comes. So I suppose we better nestle in our cloaks and make a camp. Hey, Ando! Do some of your sword magic and light us a fire. Get looking for some wood to get it started, Wilchin!’
‘Yer knows,’ the boy sighed, ‘it’d be nice if someone else could do all the menial stuff.’ And off he went scavenging along the dark track leading up towards the moors, muttering all the while.
***
The four riders came up to the Altstadt gate and found it closed, even though morning was well advanced. A small mob of concerned waggoners, carriers and travellers was milling in the suburban street outside.
‘What news?’ Andreas hallooed up to the guards at the embrasures of the gate’s medieval barbican, throwing back his cloak and displaying his uniform coat and gorget.
‘Orders, sir!’ a soldier called back. ‘The city’s in a panic and the Staroman’s had the walls manned.’
‘Why? What’s going on.’
‘Rumour is the Crown Prince is dead and the Bavarians are marching on Strelsau.’
‘This is nonsense!’ Andreas called up. ‘His Royal Highness defeated Gumpp yesterday outside Mittenheim and took his entire army prisoner! The bells should be ringing.’
‘Do you have despatches, sir?’
‘Not I, though they’ll be hard on my heels. But believe me. I was at the prince’s side when he led the charge of his guards against the Bavarians and the Lord Von Tarlenheim descended on their rear with the cavalry brigade. It was a day of glory for Ruritania. I have my lord the Graf von Strelsau with me. He will wish to see his uncle the king.’
The soldiers on the walls talked amongst themselves, and shouted down that they were sending his news to the city authorities, but couldn’t take responsibility for opening the gates. So the four had to sit on their horses fuming, while the crowd around them eagerly questioned them for their news. As the cathedral bells chimed ten, the gates of the city were opened but their way was now blocked by the agitated Staroman of the Altstadt.
‘My lord von Strelsau! Your excellency! What news is this? A victory? Praise be to God!’
‘My dear sir, delay us further at your peril. I must get to the Hofburg. My uncle needs to know his throne is safe and General Gumpp is his prisoner.’
‘Of course, of course! But an officer arrived at first light in the Altstadt spreading a tale of defeat and the prince’s death. The archbishop was preparing a requiem mass just now.’
‘And who would this officer be, sir?’ Andreas interjected, with a meaningful glance at Karl.
‘Why sir, a colonel of the guard. Naturally his words on the matter were taken as true.’
Willi scowled. ‘You’ve been duped sir. The man was a Bavarian agent out to sow confusion. Now one side, if you please. If I were you I would start organising celebrations not requiems!’
A great cheer arose from the crowd around them, and the four riders had to force their way through a rapidly gathering throng.
‘It’s no use,’ Willi called over to Karl. ‘I’ll have to go down to the Hofburg now, and Andreas with me. You take my imp and get down to Engelngasse to see what’s happened. Have a care. It could be dangerous if Barkozy is still there.’
‘Nah!’ scoffed Wilchin, ‘the danger’s all on his side, believe me my lord!’
***
‘Home,’ Karl said wistfully, as they trotted under the arch and into the yard of the Sign of the Angel.
‘Yer really means that don’t yer,’ Wilchin observed.
‘Brunhild thinks so too. It is our home. Just wish Lord Serge and Master Jan wuz here and we were all joking and laughing like we do. I’d even put up with my Lord Mehmed and Gottlieb. Where is he anyway?’
The two youths dismounted in the yard, and went shouting into the house. They found only Cecile at work in the kitchen, who gave a little shriek and ran over to hug Karl while running a suspicious eye over Wilchin.
‘Where is everyone?’ Karl asked.
‘Oh, Mistress Margrit and Gottlieb have taken a walk up to the Raathaus to find out the news. There’ve been rumours. Lord Boro’s old colonel was here and said the Red Elphberg had been killed in a battle. I heard them in the yard. I’m so glad you’re here, Karlo.’
‘It’s all lies,’ Karl retorted. ‘The prince and our Lord Serge won a great victory and captured almost the entire Bavarian army, and that colonel’s a traitor on the run. What happened to Boro?’
The girl stood confused. ‘Really? The colonel? Well, I never. What was he up to?’
‘No good, Cecile, you can bet. When did the colonel leave? Did he take Boro?’
‘They went off together. It was two hours ago by the cathedral bells.’
Karl and Wilchin exchanged glances and shrugged. With nothing better to do, Karl went out to tend to the horses, and Wilchin exercised his charm in getting Cecile to make him breakfast.
The return of Margrit was announced to Karl, working in the stables, by an explosive denunciation of the ‘shiftless monkey’ she found with his feet up on the table in her kitchen. Wilchin was dragged into the yard by his ear, and threatened with Gottlieb’s whip should she ever find him in her domestic kingdom again without permission. It appeared that Wilchin’s abilities were no match for an angry and offended cook.
Karl however was greeted with a huge and blowsy hug, and – remarkably – a handshake from Gottlieb. He was borne into the kitchen from which Wilchin had been expelled, sat down and made to tell his news about the prince, Lord Serge, Lord Willi and Jan Lisku. She couldn’t quite yet call Andreas ‘the Lord Andreas’, but he had graduated to being ‘our Captain Andreas’.
‘Well I never!’ exclaimed Margrit. ‘The things you’ve seen, our Karl. Will the Lord Willi be staying?’
Karl shook his head. ‘He’s on his way to Medeln Abbey and we’re all to accompany him. We’ll go as soon as he can escape the Hofburg, although that may take him more time than he’d like.’
‘In that case I’ll make sure you have the biggest dinner I can make you. It would have been better had I some notice. Cecile dear, you run up to the Altmarkt. I want you to get some items for me. And be quick about it.
‘Oh ... one more thing, young Karl. Lord Boromeo left a letter with me. He said to pass it on if you or the captain turn up.’
***
It was getting to be evening before Willi and Andreas wearily reappeared. They were served by Margrit with a handsome meal, and as they ate Wilchin and Karl took their ease on the parlour chairs and listened, under the guise of serving the two lords.
‘The official despatches arrived from Mittenheim at midday, Karlo,’ Andreas reported. ‘So we had no choice but to stay and hear them read before the court. Lord Serge got a really big write up from His Royal Highness. I just got a brief mention.’
‘Jealous, captain?’ Willi was amused.
‘Nah,’ Andreas responded with a grin. ‘Yer can have too much of that sort of thing, and Lord Serge deserves his turn. I’m aiming to keep me head down for a bit. Did I tell yer the prince has worked out my sword’s not exactly the decrepit old sabre it looks like? He wants to fight a bout with it in his hand.’
Willi groaned. ‘God knows what he’d do with Excalibur. Doesn’t bear thinking of.’
‘My thoughts too. Can’t be allowed,’ agreed Andreas.
‘We’ll find a lake so you can throw it in,’ Willi suggested.
‘Why would I do that?’ Andreas queried. ‘Better to pretend I lost it in the battle.’
Willi growled something inarticulate in reply.
Andreas shrugged. ‘Anyways, His Majesty is the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Prince Henry is gazetted General of the Army, old Antonovic is to be made a baron, and both him and Lord Serge are to be Knights of the Rose. The Bavarian generals and colonels are to be confined to the Great Citadel of Strelsau until Elector Max coughs up a lot of gold as damages. But their soldiers are to be sent home, without their weapons and cannon of course. They’d cost too much to feed otherwise. The captured standards were brought with the despatches. They’re to be hung in the Hofkapelle. So we had to stay for the Te Deum, and then we sneaked off before the feast. Did I miss anything else out?’
Willi shrugged. ‘Only the solemn proclamation of Dudley as a traitor to the realm and an outlaw, his death at anyone’s hands to be considered no homicide but the righteous fulfilment of the king’s will. A price of 5,000 ducats is on his head, dead or alive.’
‘There’s a chance for you to get yourself even more money, Ando,’ Wilchin said cheerily.
‘I’d do it for free,’ his friend replied with a look of distaste. ‘The king’s army is to march for the Bavarian frontier tomorrow, and as a sign of great favour to Glottenburg Prince Staszek has been appointed major general in the army of Ruritania and will command it. A large part of the army is his father’s in any case, so everyone’s happy. If the Elector sends no envoys to Mittenheim to offer terms, our prince and Staszek will combine forces and march on Landshut. And since there’s no longer a field army to oppose us, everyone expects a capitulation from Munich pretty quick.’
‘Bet you wish you were there instead of here, Ando,’ Karl laughed.
‘No. There’s a much bigger job to do here, and much more important, I think. So read to us what Boro wrote.’
Karl pulled out the folded note, and read slowly. ‘In haste. Barkozy’s come to me with a pack of lies about our Prince being killed by the Bavarians. I don’t believe him. If Ando is with the Prince, it could never happen. He says the king has given him a mission to hide the Crown before the enemy takes Strelsau and he’s chosen me to be his escort. Guess where he’s off to? So I’m going to ride with him to Medeln. He doesn’t realise that we know his game, his and Dudley’s, and why it is they want me at the abbey. But I think that in two days on the road I can get a lot out of Barkozy. Maybe talk him round. He’s not such a bad man. Not like Dudley. Your friend. Trusting in Jonas, Boro.’
Andreas smiled. ‘Our Boro’s come a long way. But we can’t follow him now till tomorrow dawn. Barkozy and him will be at the abbey long before we can get there. We’ll be too late.’
Willi frowned. ‘Can’t you do that thing again with the magic tunnel, young Karl? We can ride into it and ride out at Medeln.’
Andreas shook his head. ‘Don’t work like that, my lord. Karlo’s gift only works in places where this world and the World Beyond come so close that a door can be forced open. We were lucky he had been to Jonas’s house in the Wenzlerwald, so he could bring us so close to Strelsau. But the only other place where the barrier’s thin that we know is inside the abbey itself. And it would be too dangerous to come out there, not to mention frightening all them nuns. There may be other such places, but Karl has to have been to them to be able to make the leap.’
‘Well,’ observed Wilchin, ‘not quite true. Karl can always pass into Fäerie, and maybe take us too.’
Andreas again demurred. ‘Maybe he could, but he’s never tried it with so many people and horses. The gift was given to him alone after all. But even if he could do it, we’d only end up captured by Jonas’s enemies who’ve taken over the place. And even if they’ve left it, we’d not be much help to Boro would we. He’d be dead.’
‘Not what I meant,’ Wilchin said. ‘We could use it as a crossover point. Hop to Fäerie and then use it as a back door into the abbey.’
Karl shrugged. ‘If it was safe to cross, Jonas would have turned up here by now, I think. Fäerie’s too risky.’ Then he stiffened. As she often did, Brunhild was listening into his conversation, and she put a picture into his mind. A ruined chapel in a derelict castle, in which was an altar, perched on which he met for the first time a boy with blue horns: a boy who had in ages past often been in that place to meet his friend, the Lady Fenice, because the barriers were thin there.
‘Oh! I know how we can do it!’ he cried.
***
Being commander of the Prinzengarde was a distraction Serge could do without, but he knew it was his duty in this time of national emergency, so despite so many other things demanding his attention Serge got on with it. Currently he was tasked with helping escort the defeated Bavarian troops out of the duchy. Prince Henry didn’t want them making demands on his own army’s supply and reckoned that, since they couldn’t be turned away, so many liberated and disarmed soldiers would cause additional problems to the Bavarian authorities across the frontier.
His current responsibility was a battalion of the Morawitzky line regiment. It had suffered considerably in the battle and a third of its strength was now lying in burial pits dug below Fort No 4. He had consulted with its senior surviving officer, the captain of the grenadier company, and had ordered the surgeons of the Prinzengarde to help the Bavarian surgeons attend to the severely wounded, commandeering carts to transport to the frontier those who could not walk.
The troopers of his own colonel’s company were now shepherding the column along the road to Vorplatzenberg to make sure they did not trouble the countryside as they left the duchy. Food was a problem, but he diverted his own regiment’s ration wagon to the benefit of the Bavarians, and sent his commissaries down to the city to buy bread for his own men at his expense. The rest of the Prinzengarde were encamped on the reverse slope of the pass, away from the site of the battle, where Bavarian prisoners were still burying their dead and many mortally wounded lingered awaiting the release of death.
The horses of his regiment this morning were listless, quite a contrast to the vitality and energy they had exhibited on the ride across the wolds from the Alauthendaal. But nothing more than a relaxed amble was expected of them that afternoon. He had courteously mounted the Bavarian captain on Acheron, which had the advantage of enabling the man to closely supervise his marching column.
‘Of course, my lord,’ the captain said, ‘it’ll be chaos when we get to the frontier. I doubt provision will have been made for defeat. The cavalry regiments left before us and they’ll have commandeered whatever food is in the magazines at Regen.’
‘Then sir, the best I can suggest is that you divide what’s left in the ration wagon between your men and hope it’s enough to survive the next few days.’
Serge said goodbye to the grenadier captain at the bridge of Vorplatzenberg, offering him a purse of money since he had been robbed of his possessions by Ruritanian soldiers on his surrender. The Bavarian side of the river was currently occupied by Ruritanian troops who were raising earthworks to make a formidable barbican in case of a further attack from Landshut, which Serge thought unlikely. But it was the first stage of a counter invasion that would be mounted to punish Bavaria, and which would begin in a few days, once the allied Rothenian army had arrived at Mittenheim. As it was, the cavalry brigade under the newly-promoted General Von Paull would soon commence operations across the river in advance of the prince’s arrival.
There lay the core of Serge’s anxiety. His interview with Willi von Strelsau had been upsetting to him, and he was embarrassed at the turn it had taken. There had been no chance to apologise, and underlying his regret and embarrassment was his unease at what was taking Willi into Ober Husbrau. It was all so irrational. But he could not escape his duty, the tyrant of a soldier’s life, as he was discovering.
***
Andreas had determined that they could spend the night at Engelngasse. If Karl’s plan worked then they would be at Tarlenheim before Barkozy and Boromeo could get there, however hard those two rode.
So he and Karl occupied Karl’s bed. It was a warm night in Strelsau and they snuggled together with the sheet thrown back, still sticky with sweat and their joint emissions after a very passionate coupling. Though a little inhibited by Karl’s stiff and bruised shoulder they had managed more than well enough, and now the joint felt better if anything for the workout. Karl played with Andreas’s still engorged penis, giggling as he encouraged it to rise again with fingers and mouth. Eventually Andreas grabbed him by the hair and hauled him up. They kissed for a while as Karl settled on Andreas’s erection and just let it fill him.
Andreas, damp hair in his eyes, kissed him again and asked ‘You just going to sit there?’
‘Why not? It feels great.’
‘Girls work it harder.’
‘When it’s in their bums or the other ...?’
‘Both. Ooh. That was good. See, yer can move it.’
‘You do a lot of girls.’
‘They’re so available. You gettin’ jealous, Karlo?’
‘No. You always told me it’d be this way. But I am curious.’
‘You’ll never want to do it with a girl, will you.’
Karl locked eyes with his friend, and shook his head. ‘Just not interested, Ando. But I s’pect you’ll want to have babies with them an’ all.’
‘I’ll be the Baron of Bernenstein one day, and there has to be other little barons to follow me, so yes.’ He pecked Karl on the lips and looked at him meditatively. ‘But I love fucking you too much to give it up, an’ I think I’ll always like it wiv you. You’re special to me, an’ we’ll always be friends, won’t we?’
Karl smiled and hugged Andreas tight, while clenching on his cock. ‘There should be a word for us. “Friends” just don’t seem right.’
Andreas moved forward and, without extracting his erection from him, put Karl on his back, his legs up on either side of Andreas’s head. He chuckled. ‘I agree. I’ll have to think about it. How ‘bout “fuckers”?’
Karl laughed and then started emitting more primal noises as Andreas began a joyous hammering at his rear end that went on and on.
***
With a rattle of hooves on cobbles, the four youths moved out on to Engelngasse. They were well set up for the day, as Margrit had been determined that they have the best breakfast possible. She had been up at the Friday fish market at dawn and the travellers had woken to a house full of the scent of freshly-baked bread.
Karl led the way up the Domstrasse. As they passed across the open space of the Erzbischofsplatz, with a nod to the west side of the square Andreas observed to Willi ‘They say you own most of those houses and all the land up to the walls, my lord.’
‘True enough, captain. And I still haven’t had time to decide what to do with it all, if anything. I might just sell it.’
They left the city by the Altstadt’s north gate, heading for the Strelsenerwald, where Karl said he had to find somewhere just right. Eventually they came to a sandy track through gorse bushes, which dipped down into a natural trench.
‘This is it!’ Karl announced. ‘Let me talk it over with Brunhild for a moment. Right. She says it’ll feel a bit more odd to us in daylight, and we’re to ride as close together as we may. So, when I say. The horses all know they have to hit a canter as quick as they can. Now!’
Their mounts surged between their legs, and sand kicked up from their hooves as they headed down to the dip. Willi saw the world in front of them begin to distort, as though he was now seeing it through the thick glass at the bottom of a tumbler. Then in a brief whirl of colours the horses were drawing up on green turf within the tumbled grey walls of a ruined castle.
‘That wuz weird alright,’ pronounced Wilchin. He looked around. ‘This the place?’
Karl nodded. It looked unchanged from his last visit, a year and a half before. Brunhild trotted out of the courtyard and over the stone bridge, and there below them opened the broad valley of the Taveln, richer and greener than Karl had last seen it. The town’s common fields were white with ripening corn and the slopes of the hills to their left above it were green and leafy with the ranked lines of vineyards. The roofs and chimneys of the great house of Tarlenheim rose among woods, no smoke ascending from the stacks this time.
Willi asserted himself. ‘We know we got here before Barkozy and Boromeo. It’s still early morning and they have to have slept at an inn somewhere on the road last night. Will they come to the house first do you think?’
Andreas shook his head. ‘No way of knowing. But Boro and his dad aren’t friends at the moment, so I doubt it.’
Karl agreed. ‘They have to go through the town of Tarlenheim down along the river. We could wait there, or we could trot on to the abbey and waylay the pair on the road.’
‘Who says they’ll be a pair?’ Wilchin interjected. ‘That Dudley has got to be here somewhere, and the thing is, the road’s a lot shorter from Mittenheim to Husbrau if yer don’t go by way of Strelsau. So odds are the wizard is already around here somewhere. My bet is at the abbey. What do yer all think?’
‘I think,’ pronounced Willi, ‘that I want to see my mother.’
‘The abbey it is,’ determined Andreas. So the four followed Karl as he cantered Brunhild down the green ride that led to the park gates of Tarlenheim and the road along the river to the abbey buildings, which from the hilltop they had seen glinting distant and white through the wooded valley floor.