Warhammer-The Adventures of Florin & Lorenzo 04-Haute Cuisine by Robert Earl

Author:Robert Earl
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2009-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

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The guards studied the vessel that had emerged from the steaming morning mist. It had seen better days. Even in the grey light they could see that the hull was a mildewed patchwork of ancient planking and new timber.

The mast had been lost, too, so the boat wallowed inelegantly forward under the power of the oarsman. He was grunting with exertion and the smell of his sweat was fresh amongst the miasma of rot that hung about the wharf.

The second occupant of the boat was more relaxed. He was not rowing. Instead he was watching. He leant forward over his crossbow, eagerly peering through the mist towards the pilings that supported the Dragon Wharf.

The guards watched him watch. Their heads floated amongst a confusion of bobbing detritus, and their eyes remained as still and unblinking as pebbles. They examined the boat as it splashed ever nearer with a cold-blooded patience, moving only to keep their bodies steady in the lazy current.

When the intruders had almost reached the dark waters beneath the wharf, their boat stopped. The two men barked at each other for a while, then set about lighting a pair of lanterns. Only then did the oarsman continue, slowly edging the boat between the forest of slimed timber that supported the wharf above.

The lamplight was sharp in the guards’ eyes, although they ignored the temptation to blink. With an instinctive wisdom they realised that even that tiny movement might be too much. Instead they suffered, and watched the strange patterns that the reflected lamplight sent dancing around the roof of this drowned underworld.

The boat splashed and echoed its way between the pillars, the oarsman cursing as he rowed. His companion remained silent, his senses as taut as the arms of his crossbow. Occasionally he would hold one of the lanterns up to study the mildewed underside of the wharf above. Mostly he just squinted into the surrounding darkness.

Silently, and with barely a ripple, the guards followed in the intruders’ wake.

Hunters and hunted progressed, and the waters grew more treacherous. Beneath the carpentry of the wharf, the city had spilled into the sea. Collapsed masonry and islands of refuse formed reefs in the stagnant water between the pilings. Strange fungi glistened in the lamplight, and every dip of the oar brought a fresh waft of rotting brine.

It wasn’t until the intruders had reached the crumbling foundations of the warehouses that they stopped. The rotting masonry seemed to send them into some confusion, and they started barking at each other again.

The guards’ eyes glistened in the lamplight as they drifted to a halt around the vessel. Two of them, moving with the silent grace of poured treacle, slipped from the water and slithered into the timber-work above the boat. Those that remained submerged themselves so that only their eyes remained above water. It had been a day since they’d eaten, and that had only been a skinny dockhand. Now their tails twitched with excitement at the thought of the feast to come.

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