Forged in Battle by Justin Hunter - (ebook by Undead) Read Free Book Online Page A

protection!”
    “No,” the burgomeister said emphatically. “Now I have other
things to consider.”
    Sigmund bit back his anger. “Sir—” he managed.
    The burgomeister smiled politely. “My dear Captain Jorg,” he
spoke as if to a child. “I do not think we need more troops around
Helmstrumburg. You and your men are protection enough!”
    Sigmund was furious, but he bit his retort back, and strode
from the hall.
     
    * * *
     
    In the burgomeister’s hall Eugen, Theodor and the
burgomeister listened to Sigmund’s footsteps depart.
    The burgomeister rose in one fluid motion, swung the door
shut, and bolted it. He glared at the two merchants. “You were supposed to come
in secret!” he hissed. “In secret!” he repeated, his face purple. “I cannot
think of a less ostentatious arrival than to get yourselves attacked and be
rescued by that dolt and his team of drill-ground thugs.”
    “Isn’t there a better way to greet your guests?” Eugen smiled
as he pulled himself a seat.
    The burgomeister’s mouth clamped shut. He flopped into his
seat, his arms hanging at his side. Eugen drew a hand from under his jacket and
extended it over the table. He opened his fist and there was a loud thud as the
leather purse he’d been holding landed on the table top. The burgomeister stared
at the purse for a long while, but did not reach out to take it.
    “Now,” Eugen said as he leaned in and spoke slowly and
softly. “I trust the second part of the agreement is in place?”
    The burgomeister’s eyes did not leave the purse of gold.
Theodor cleared his throat but the burgomeister’s eyes did not flicker.
    “Lord burgomeister,” Eugen said. “I trust you have fulfilled
your half of the bargain.” He spoke a little more hurriedly this time, stress
raising the pitch of his voice. “Lord burgomeister—” he began one last time but
the burgomeister put up his hand.
    He drew in a deep breath and pulled himself erect in his
seat, took the purse. “It is,” he said.
     
    Sigmund was still fuming as he marched across the courtyard
and took the stone staircase down to the vaults, where Maximillian, the
treasurer worked.
    Not bothering to knock, Sigmund pushed open the heavy oak
door. Beyond, in a low-ceiling room, a man sat hunched over a large table
covered with ledgers. Maximillian was the long-suffering treasurer of
Helmstrumburg. A true-blooded bureaucrat, he ignored Sigmund for as long as
possible, then put his quill back into its ink pot and let out a long sigh.
    “How can I help you?”
    “I have come to take three crowns from your chests.”
    “You lost a man?”
    Sigmund nodded, but immediately felt uncomfortable with his
flippant manner. How many times had he done this now?
    Ten—eleven? He couldn’t remember. The first man he’d lost
was Arneld, a childhood friend. That had been the hardest. It had been his own
fault. Not only had he persuaded Arneld to join but he’d failed to save him. He
still remembered turning and seeing Arneld’s horrified face—frozen forever in
that brief moment before death—when the greenskin chieftain disembowelled him.
    “Name?” Maximillian said and Sigmund snapped back to the
present.
    “Petr von Blankow.”
    The certificate was signed and stamped with red wax. Petr’s
death would earn his relatives three crowns. That was the price for each dead
man’s life. Sigmund realised how hardened he’d become to loss. It was a
soldier’s bedfellow. Edmunt was the only one he would truly miss now, he
thought.
     
    The two merchants were coming out of the guild hall when
Sigmund came back up the stairs into the central courtyard.
    “Delivered your message?”
    The two men started. “Captain Jorg. Still here, I see?”
    “Indeed. I suppose you’re here for the fur?” Sigmund said.
    Eugen didn’t seem to understand.
    “The furs,” Sigmund said. “Helmstrumburg is famous for the
quality of the furs.”
    Eugen nodded. “Of course. How forgetful of