Mathias decided to try moving farther in. He had feared that he’d stick out, that he’d be too conspicuous, but it looked as if he needn’t have worried. No one was paying any attention to anyone else. The soldiers guzzled booze. Gnawed at cooked meat. Howled with laughter at vulgar jokes. Some of the tables were sprawled with cards, with copper and silver coins piled in front of the occupants. They seemed to be involved in some kind of gambling.
To order…it apparently sufficed to flag down a server at random and to shout out the menu item.
Mathias tried waving his hand at one of them. The server’s only response was to nod. Apparently this meant: Hold on, I’ll be right back.
That would do. He approached one of the tables where people were gambling. Four men sat glaring at the cards in their hands.
Here too, Mathias aimed for an attitude that would be firm but not antagonistic.
“Pardon me. May I?”
“Huh?”
One of the men looked up. The stink of booze wafted over Mathias’ face.
“Are you free to talk?”
The man frowned and clucked his tongue, then turned back to his cards as if Mathias didn’t even exist.
Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to do, Mathias admitted. He doubted anyone interrupted in the middle of a game with stakes would react well. I’ll watch for now. He took a step backwards. He took care not to bump into any of the passing servers.
Standing in their way was dangerous.
Moving to a corner of the room, he pressed his back to the wall. He heard a whistle. Looking up, he saw the server from earlier sending him an expectant look from behind one of the tables. He wanted to know Mathias’ order.
“Ale!” It wasn’t like he’d never tried the stuff before.
He thought he’d shouted, but the surrounding racket drowned him out. The skin-headed server raised a hand to his ear. Mathias assumed this meant that the man couldn’t hear him.
Friendlier than expected, Mathias happily noted.
He pointed at a nearby table then at himself, motioning that he wanted what they were having. The server returned a diligent nod then moved away, the message apparently having got across. Mathias surveyed the tavern again.
He’d been far too careless earlier. He couldn’t proposition just any soldier. It had to be someone of dubious moral character who also wielded enough clout to sneak Mathias in as a volunteer.
He looked around for soldiers who seemed high in rank. Were there any who were impressively decorated or acting self-important and bossing others around?
His eyes came to rest on one face in particular.
Someone from the volunteer desk the previous day. Not the soldier who had dealt with Mathias, but the one who had attended to the right-hand queue. The stocky one with the thin eyebrows. Mathias was sure of it.
He walked cautiously over.
The man was playing a game of dice. Apparently down on his luck, he had been banging copper and silver coins down on the table for some time. These were, without fail, scooped up by the rest of the soldiers. The man continued to guzzle one drink after another, firing curses at the servers and the others at the table. No one seemed to take offense. Far from it, they all gave the impression of being in high spirits. Mathias guessed the soldier with the thin eyebrows had already parted with a considerable sum of money.
Eventually, the soldier got up from his seat. Maybe to use the toilet.
Perfect. Mathias pushed forwards, weaving his way past tables. Trailing after the man, he crossed a doorless threshold into a narrow, dingy-looking corridor. “Excuse me!” he called.
“Huh?” The soldier turned around and scowled, but continued, “Hey…wait a minute. Don’t I know you?”
“Do you have a moment to talk?”
“Ah, I remember. The spoiled brat.”
Blood surged to Mathias’ head.
Let it go. He couldn’t let himself get worked up each time someone from the laboring classes muttered something he found offensive. He took a lungful of the dingy air.
Tobacco, drink, paraffin, the stink of unbrushed teeth.
“That’s right,” Mathias said. “And the spoiled little brat has a favor he wants to ask.”
“Forget it.” The soldier with the thin eyebrows propped himself against the wall and scratched his head. The sense was returning to his eyes. He was, it seemed, already beginning to sober a little. “Get yourself home, go back to your lessons.”
“You need to hear me out.”
“Yeah? And why’s that? It’s obvious what you’re gonna ask.”
It was that damn notice.
Still─the fact that the soldier was so quick to pick up on this meant he might be of the necessary rank to grant Mathias’ request. At the very least, the odds were high that he could. Mathias drew in another lungful of the filthy air.
“I can make it worth your while.”
Go on, it’s the next step that counts. You don’t need to feel intimidated by one paltry soldier…
“I have information. I assume you know who my father is? If you agree to help, I will tell you the location of a fortune he has hidden away. And how to steal it.”
“A-ha!” The soldier’s eyes lit up. “Come on then, let’s hear it.”
“First you give me your word. That you’ll enroll me as a volunteer. That you’ll forge whatever documents are necessary and─”
The soldier moved before Mathias could even finish. One of his beefy arms came lunging out. His hand locked around Mathias’ neck, pushed him against the wall, then lifted him bodily off the ground.
Mathias was choking from the pressure. His vision started to fade. He barely had any idea what had happened.
“W…ait…” He tried swinging an arm, but the soldier’s face and body were out of reach. Mathias writhed and kicked at the man’s knees, but he was like a stone column. “What…”
“How about you tell me where it is? That hidden fortune. Seems a pretty sweet deal,” the soldier with the thin eyebrows rasped.
“Only…in…exchange…”
“Don’t be a dolt. This is life or death. The only sensible choice is to spit it out, and fast.”
“If you…kill…”
“Hmm?” The soldier flashed a false smile, cocking his head to one side. “There’d be one less idiotic kid, that’s all. It’s common knowledge you were trying to get past the wall. Who knows why? Not that it matters. Anyway, wouldn’t be no surprise if you got washed up in the river.”
Of course.
Mathias hadn’t thought about the river. It ran the length of Fuerth before passing under the wall, through to the outside. And Quinta was downstream. Forgetting a steed, assuming he could hold his breath long enough, it wouldn’t be inconceivable to dive in and leave that way.
“You understanding yet? I strangle you here, and splash! Everyone’ll assume you drowned. No skin off my nose.”