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042 - Sky Beyond Sky

The morning mist yet clung to roof tops and swirled about the trunks of the many tall trees that surrounded the village in the valley. Above the mists rose the single snowy peak of the Horn, barely poking into the blue skies.

From down the riverside path came a horse drawn cart, riding the horse a fat man in a black leather apron. He rode at an easy pace, occasionally holding a gleaming bronze apparatus up and turning it this way and that, muttering to himself. In the cart lay a single unmoving youth.

He rode into the street, halting before the single tavern and glancing up at its sign; the head of a goat with a long braided beard. In the street were several wagons and horses tied to posts.

Each cart was loaded with all manner of weapons and tools. From bundles long flat headed spears to large hunting bows and crossbows, quarrels stuffed with bolts, arrows, rolled tents, iron pots and pans.

Dozens of men swarmed over the wagons, checking that straps were tight, loading food and supplies.

"Salutations!" Gordianus pushed open the double doors and strode into the tavern. The tavern was full, every table had at least four rough looking men; the sight of such a large man with a black apron drew a number of strange looks, but no response.

Matilda rushed from the kitchen carrying several steaming bowls on a platter. She caught sight of Gordianus and smiled. "You'll have to wait, or sit at the bar." She pointed to the only free spot at the far end next to a glum faced farmer.

"No need." Gordianus took a sheet of parchment from his inner robes. "Good folk! I humbly beg your askance! Has anyone seen this man?" On the parchment was drawn a crude portrait of Magnus, a hood covering part of his head, face full of blisters and covered in black lines. "His name is Magnus! There is, of course, a reward for any verifiable reports!"

Gordianus held the portrait up for all to see, many craned their necks and peered at the portrait, they buzzed in conversation and shook their heads.

"I know him!" Matilda shrieked. "Noble sir, hold on a tick . . " She dumped her platter on the nearest table and rushed to Gordianus side.

"Good woman, you recognize this man?"

"Yes! Magnus . . I didn't know his name though . . " she leaned in closer, examining the picture. "And . . and you say there is a reward? Is he a wanted man?"

"A large reward." Gordianus rolled up the parchment, taking a coin purse from his belt and weighing it on his hand. "Three pieces of gold."

Matilda licked her lips. "He's not for the noose is he? I mean, he seemed like a nice enough . . what did he do?"

"The man, Magnus, is a wanted criminal. Woman, speak! Tell me all you know!" Gordianus jingled the coin purse impatiently.

"Alright, alright. Well, the boy, Magnus that is, came in first about a month ago, wanted to buy some booze and a cart. He said he was part of a hunting party or something, but not by the Horn, strange right?"

"Go on."

"He looked strange too, sick. Those lines on his face . . and the stink, phew!"

"A month ago you say? That would place him . . " Gordianus muttered, making a quick note in a small notebook.

"And he has come in a couple of times since. Here, was I in danger? What did he do?"

"Madame, this man is not just a wanted criminal, his is also sick. Quite diseased. If you do not tell me where I can find him this instant then you are placing all our lives in the gravest of dangers."

"I don't know!" Matilda's voice trembled. "He's was only here this last thursday!"

"Do you know where he is staying? Has anyone else been in contact with him?"

"No! No, only he . . he always buys booze. Plenty of it, and takes it away by cart down the river. Am I infected? I helped him load the carts, Mr, am I going to be sick like him?"

Gordianus counted three gold coins, placing them in Matilda's hands. "Good woman, I do believe you will be quite safe. If you have not already come down with the sickness after a month then it is quite unlikely that you have been infected.”

"Oh, thank the gods!" Matilda clutched the coins, the sight of gold drew a dozen greedy glares from the men sitting around the room. Matilda hurriedly stuffed them into her apron.

"Now, hmm," the fat Alchemist sniffed the air. "Is that pork belly? How delightful! If you'd be so kind madame, I will take a serving of your wonderful pork belly gruel."