Hammer and Bolter Issue 25 by Edited by Christian Dunn

Author:Edited by Christian Dunn
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy, Magazine, Science Fiction
Publisher: BL Publishing
Published: 2012-10-09T07:00:00+00:00

THE PROBLEM OF THREE-TOLL BRIDGE

Josh Reynolds

‘Look closely, Vido,’ Zavant Konniger said, his breath pooling around his head in a foggy halo. The ice-house was as cold as the Reik in winter. ‘Tell me what you see.’

The halfling shivered and stamped a hairy foot, trying to keep his blood flowing. Beneath his soles, Vido could feel the thrum of the Reik. He scrubbed his hands together and blew into them as he stepped up to the plank table on which the body lay. It had only been a day or so, but outside the ice-house it was summer-time and a man as dead as Wolfgang Krassner was would spoil all too quickly. The family was travelling down from Talabheim to collect him, or what was left of him, and the authorities had decided to wait a day or so before packing him in salt for the trip back, at Konniger’s request. They’d made room for the body by pushing aside the chain-hung pig carcasses and the baskets of fish waiting to be salted.

Krassner had been one half of a duel held on the Three-Toll Bridge, and had come off the worse despite a reputation for blade-work. The other half, a wet noodle named Jaeger, was considered a fairly good swordsman, but Krassner should have made a dog’s breakfast of him according to those public-spirited individuals who watched the duel play out. Since duels were now illegal thanks to the newly elected Emperor Karl Franz’s distaste for the practice, and the two had been stupid enough to have it in full view of the watch-house, Jaeger was arrested.

Fortunately for Jaeger his father was Gustav Jaeger, of Jaeger and Sons, a merchant house of some distinction and no little fiduciary influence. Unfortunately, Krassner’s family had influence as well, and Jaeger was still rotting in the cells and bound for the crow-jig, unless Konniger could prove he hadn’t murdered the man more than a dozen witnesses said he had.

‘R-rich,’ Vido said, trying to stop his teeth from chattering. Despite the cold, Konniger gave no sign of discomfort. The lean, ascetic shape of the Great Sage of Altdorf neither trembled nor twitched in his thin robe. Vido suspected that Konniger’s internal temperature was far colder than any Reik-side ice-house. ‘He was rich,’ he said, picking at the frost-stiffened clothes.

‘Mm, obviously, otherwise our client’s son would not be facing the gallows. Continue,’ Konniger said, gesturing sharply.

Vido grimaced and leaned in. He could smell the body despite the cold. Queasily, he lifted one of the corpse’s hands. ‘He’s a swordsman, and he practised regularly, judging by the calluses.’ He looked at Konniger, and the sage motioned for him to continue. Vido gestured to the wound on Krassner’s belly. ‘Not good enough, I guess.’

‘What else?’

‘What else do we need to know?’ Vido said. ‘It seems fairly clear to me, Master. He was stabbed in a duel.’ He shrugged. It wasn’t his business if potty aristos wanted to go around stabbing one another in duels. Frankly, Vido thought that

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