Arcanum Read Online Free PDF Page B

seemingly deep in thought. Then he straightened up. “No.”
    The Teuton stiffened. “What do you mean, no?”
    “I would have thought the meaning to be self-evident, Walter of Danzig.” Gerhard smiled warmly. “We appear to be able to talk to each other with some measure of understanding, so a simple ‘no’ ought to be easily comprehended by such an exalted person as yourself.”
    “I have a hundred—”
    “Three hundred, my lord,” said Trommler to Gerhard, his interruption perfectly timed.
    Walter scowled and grimaced.
    “And I believe both the road and the pass belong to you, my lord.”
    “And the land beyond the pass, Chamberlain?”
    “Yours also, my lord.”
    “Ah.” Gerhard stroked his lips and looked back to the Teuton. “You seem to want to give me reasons to refuse you: reasons I don’t really need because my word is law in this land. You bring your brawling, thieving bunch of mercenaries halfway across Europe, and everywhere you go, you cause trouble. You arrive at my borders having been chased at spear-point through Bavaria, you lie about your numbers, you insult my ears with your accent, and then you have the gall to act surprised when I refuse you and your men passage.”
    The Teuton ground his jaw in silence, and eyed his guards. He was currently weaponless, but his snatching a spear was always possible. Then he grew very still. He’d noticed a figure all in white standing half obscured behind a pillar. All in white, even to the extent of having a veiled face.
    Gerhard nodded in satisfaction. “Your act is poor, Master Walter. You came here expecting the answer you received, so you decided to be just plain rude instead. Perhaps you thought the Prince of Carinthia had grown weak, or stupid, since last year when a different ugly, sweaty brute stood in your place and mangled good, honest German with his stinking barbarian tongue.”
    “Wolfgang of Ludsen, my lord.”
    “And what did we do with him, Chamberlain?”
    “Cursed his manhood, my lord.”
    “Pardon? I’m not sure I heard right.”
    “His cock rotted off, my lord, over the course of a few weeks.”
    “Yes. That was it.” Gerhard rubbed his palms together, gratified that, at last, Walter of Danzig had gone even paler under the veneer of dirt. “Clearly not deterrent enough. What shall we do this time?”
    “I want to return to my men,” said the Teuton, mustering as much of his dignity as remained. He glanced again at the white-shrouded hexmaster in the shadows, and Gerhard knew that although they’d brought their own shaman along with them, it was so much hedge-magic against the high arts of the Order.
    “I have not finished with you,” roared the prince. The spearmen flinched, and the order wasn’t even directed at them. “This is my decision: I’m going to have you pressed, and when you’re dead, I’m going to strap your shattered bones to your horse and send it back to your pox-ridden army.”
    The Teuton turned to find a score of broad-bladed spears pointing at his guts. He spun back, and reached up for his axe. His hand found nothing.
    “This is what happens when you pick a fight with Carinthia,” said the prince mildly. “You can’t win. You just get to choose how you lose.”
    The Teuton straightened up. “You have done me wrong, prince, and you will pay for this.”
    Gerhard did no more than raise an eyebrow. Trommler hadn’t moved, except to rest himself against the side of the throne, and Felix was stock-still.
    “I see no reason to be provoked by you. A civilised man keeps his speech honest, and his temper checked. Take him away, and send word when the stones have been prepared. I’ll want to watch.”
    Walter of Danzig spat on the floor and deliberately turned his back on the dais. He looked down at the spear-heads and, growling deep in his throat, knocked one aside with his hand.
    The guards marched the Teuton away. Once the Great Hall’s door banged shut again, the white-robed man – or