Ring of Fire III (26 page)

The woman looked down at the corpse, then looked up at Lasse, smiled and leaned against the door-frame. “I thought I heard a noise I recognized, but you seem to have taken care of the problem yourself. He’s quite dead. They always are when they’ve bled like that. Why don’t you grab your pants and get out of here, before your customer’s valet comes to see what’s happened? He looks like he might like to listen at the door.”

Lasse nodded, ripped the gag from his mouth, and dressed quickly, hissing as his shirt slid over the welts on his back. As he bent to take Herr Messer’s purse, he noticed the velvet bag containing the goblets and stuffed those inside his slightly too large doublet as well.

“Quick,” said the woman turning towards the stairs.

“What goes there? Help! Thieves!” Herr Messer’s valet shouted and blocked the narrow staircase. Lasse heard the sound of chairs turning over and heavy feet stamping in the taproom below.

“Damn! They think I’m with you. This way.” The woman grabbed Lasse’s arm and pulled him toward the other end of the narrow corridor and down an even narrower staircase.

“Stop them! They’re getting away! Go around to the stable!” Lasse recognized the voice of the tavern keeper as he hurried down the dark stairs. From his wanderings during the day he knew that a passage led from the stable yard to the maze of old, and twisted alleys between the harbor and the Maria Church. If he and the woman could get there, they could quickly rid themselves of their followers, but three people were running to cut them off. The stable boy, waving the pitchfork he had grabbed, probably wouldn’t use it unless he was directly attacked, but would the woman be able to take out one of the men, while Lasse fought the other? That question was quickly answered as she kicked one man in the balls—seemingly without breaking her stride—and shouted “
Herauss!
” at the boy so furiously that he dropped the pitchfork and stepped back in fear. That left only one man for Lasse to deal with, but more were coming down the stairs behind them, so he made a feint with his knife towards his opponent’s eyes before copying the woman’s kick, and following her out in the alley. He stopped only to cut the purse strings of both the groaning men.

* * *

“Let’s stop here.” The woman stopped and pulled Lasse into the shadow beneath a stairway. During his time with Otto, Lasse had developed a strong dislike of having anyone touch him, but for some reason having this young woman pull him around seemed natural, and didn’t bother him at all. Once out of the stable yard they had quickly slowed their run to a walk to avoid catching anyone’s attention, but after ambling around for a while, the woman started heading south along the hill, as if having a specific goal in mind.

“Now, I don’t need to ask what was going on in that tavern, but what are—or were—your plans, boy?” The woman folded her arms, and leaned against the wall in the same position she had assumed in the tavern.

“I was planning to go back to Sweden, but needed the money for the passage. I have that now.” Lasse shrugged. “I’ve sold the horse I arrived on, but I could walk to Warnemünde in the morning.”

“You’d better disguise those pretty looks of yours before trying to leave town.” She pulled a small knife from somewhere in her skirts, and started using it to clean her fingernails. Lasse smiled. He had absolutely no doubt the woman could be dangerous, but seeing her imitate the ways of a bully boy was still kind of cute.

“And you? How much did I damage your plans?” he asked.

She shrugged but looked a little worried. “We’ll have to abandon our belongings, and Viktor will not be pleased.”

“Your pimp?”

“Oh no, we don’t have to sell our body these days.” She stopped seeming a little surprised at her own words, then nodded and went on. “Viktor is an arms dealer, and I work as his clerk. We don’t normally work out of Rostock, and didn’t use our real names in the tavern, so there’s no big problem.”

“Good.” Lasse’s smile felt a lot more genuine than normal these days, but then he really didn’t need an angry pimp to deal with as well.

The woman looked up and down Lasse with a speculative look on her face. “You’re rather good with that knife, boy.” She paused. “And you look completely harmless. Viktor wouldn’t have any use for you in bed, for himself or for others. He doesn’t work that way. But if you’d be willing to gather information, and perhaps be the unexpected guard to his back, he would look after you in return. Probably not hire you full time, but pay for any job you do. And he pays well.”

Lasse lifted an eyebrow in surprise, but before he could answer, the young woman stepped away from the wall and walked toward two men who were crossing the square. Judging from her gestures she was telling them what had happened as she led the men back toward Lasse.

“I am Viktor and I have no use for a useless pretty boy, especially not one that has cost me money.” The bigger of the two men grumbled with a strong accent while folding his arms and leaning against the wall in exactly the same pose and place that the small woman had just left.

“I am deeply grateful for the lady’s help, and I apologize for costing you and your people the belongings left in the tavern. On the other hand, I don’t think anybody could reasonably expect you to pay your bill.” To his horror, Lasse could hear that he hadn’t quite managed to keep all his amusement out of his voice, but the big man didn’t seem offended, and just gave a grunt as response.

“Viktor, I really think it would be worth it to take the boy along. I like the way he thought to snatch up the purses of the two men we kicked down.” The woman paused and seemed to relax and soften a little now her friends had arrived. “In fact, even Brigitte was impressed by his behavior tonight.”

Lasse didn’t understand the last remark, but it seemed to make Viktor accept the woman’s recommendation.

“As you wish, my dear Tat’yana. Boris, give the boy your hood, and let’s find Vladimir’s taproom. We can spend the night in his back room, and get some disguises tomorrow. What’s your name, boy?”

“Lasse.” Lasse pulled the old-fashioned hood with the big collar over his head and followed the others across the square. He had no intention of finding himself in anybody’s power again, but then Otto would not be looking for Lasse in a group of travelers.

“And do you have any other trade but your looks?”

“I used to be a cook.” Lasse couldn’t hear any emotions in the big man’s voice, as if he not only didn’t judge Lasse for making a living as a catamite, but actually didn’t care very much.

“Can you do poisons?”

“Yes.”

“And would you?” Viktor stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Lasse was about to just answer yes, but stopped to think. Would he? Granny had taught him how to make portions for just about anything, including death, but poison was difficult to control. He would gladly have poisoned the wells at Otto’s estate, killing everybody in the household, but he could not imagine doing the same at Oxenstierna’s estate, or even at the royal castle.

“Not for everyone or everywhere. Besides, strong sleeping draughts are usually just as useful, and much more forgiving of mistakes.”

“Hm. Cannot deny that. You can come with us. We operate out of the Vulgar Unicorn in Stralsund.”

Part 2

Stralsund, 30 April 1635

“Why do you spend so much time at the harbor?” The voice of Nicolaus Montanus sounded tired and old, and judging from the black circles under his eyes he had spent the night on his knees in prayer again. Lasse closed the door to the small study and went to the young man he had been living with for the past four months.

“I’m not fishing for customers if that’s what you think.” For once Lasse didn’t smile or try to be graceful as he sat on the second chair at the writing desk.

Nicolaus shook his head and sighed. “I didn’t think so. I was just wondering.” He paused. “Lasse, I love you. It might be a tainted love according to the laws of man and God, but it is love, not just lust. I’ve been in lust before—and dealt with it. This is something else. I alternate between wanting to lean on the strength you hide behind that pretty surface, and protect you from the darkness I sometimes see in your eyes when you’re not aware that I’m watching. I want you beside me for the rest of my life, and yet, when I reach out to you, I feel like I’m reaching for a shadow in a mirror. As if you’re not really here or not quite real. What are you, Lasse? A mirage, like the sailors tell of? Or some kind of darkness from my own soul?” Nicolaus’ usually soft voice had grown in intensity until it was almost grating.

Lasse sighed and put his legs up on the heavy crossbeam beneath the table. Nicolaus wasn’t just a customer, but he also wanted more from Lasse than just a body and an agreeable surface. And Lasse didn’t feel anywhere near ready to trust anyone with his heart and mind again. Not after Otto. On the other hand, he also didn’t want to leave Nicolaus. Lasse liked the ardent young priest, and wished their life together wouldn’t hurt Nicolaus so much. For Lasse, it didn’t matter. He didn’t desire anyone, not even Tat’yana or Nicolaus. As long as it paid, did him no damage, and didn’t hurt too much, it was all the same to him. The money he earned from his jobs for Viktor actually meant that he hadn’t needed to accept any customers lately, but of course those jobs might be even more difficult for Nicolaus to accept than what had happened to Lasse in the past. After all, Lasse had then been a suffering victim, something he wasn’t any more, and was determined never to become again.

“Did you know that evil is real?” Lasse kept his eyes fixed on the candle in the heavy pewter candlestick on the table rather than looking at Nicolaus. He couldn’t take the young priest completely into his confidence, not even as much as he had told Tat’yana, but he supposed he did owe Nicolaus some kind of trust. “I’ve been touched by such evil.
No!
” Lasse raised a hand when Nicolaus sat up, suddenly alert. “I’m not talking about evil from the devil, but about evil in a man. Something delighting in destruction and betrayal, but entirely of this world.”

“But my dear Lasse, such are the signs of the devil.” Nicolaus was now smiling and looking a lot happier.

“No. I don’t agree. There is evil that is entirely in man, and that we cannot blame on the devil.” This was the first time Lasse had ever argued with Nicolaus, or showed any kind of disagreement, and the young priest’s smile was growing broad enough to split his face. “But let us take that discussion another day, Nicolaus.” Lasse hesitated, wanting to be honest, but not really sure how far it would be safe to go. “Back when I was a cook...I’ve never told you that, but I was and I was good at it. Back then I used to be quite fond of one of the young maids, who’d smile at me and call me Cookie. Right now I don’t suppose I’m really interested in anything but survival and revenge against the man who turned me into what I am today. But the point is that I’m not certain I could ever love a man. Not like you love me. Do you think—” Lasse suddenly had to stop and swallow. “—Do you think you could possibly settle for some kind of friendship instead?”

Nicolaus, with his smile still in place and his eyes filled with tears, said, “My dearest Lasse, I’d be absolutely delighted.”

* * *

“I suppose the sea means freedom to me. Getting away and leaving the past behind. Including the past me.” Lasse smiled wryly, and looked at the sunlight glittering on the water across the harbor.

“To me it’s just frightening. I have no intentions of ever sailing if I can avoid it.” Nicolaus was looking at him rather than at the sea. Things had actually gotten a lot better between the two of them since they had stopped sharing a bed. Nicolaus still took delight in teaching Lasse all kinds of things from his beloved books, but he no longer spent most of his nights kneeling in prayer, and joining Lasse for his daily walk around the harbor had given him brighter eyes and a better appetite. “What frightens you, Lasse?”

“Frightens?” Lasse started walking again. “Well, the mere thought of falling back into the power of Otto von Quadt is enough to scare me out of my mind, but aside from that? Being helpless, perhaps. People with the power to hurt me.”

“The worst hurt can come only from the people you care for.”

“If that was true, I’d fear you and Tat’yana more than Otto. And believe me, that is not the case.”

“Who is Tat’yana? A Russian?”

“A friend here in Stralsund. She’s from France. She used to wear another name, but if you meet her you better call her Tat’yana, that’s what she calls herself these days. You might hear her call me Cookie.”

“Is she the maid you told me about?”

Lasse stopped and looked at Nicolaus. “No, the maid is back in Sweden. Tat’yana is a clerk. When I disappear on those occasions that I refuse to explain, I’m usually with her. We work for the same man.”

“And what do you do for him?” The tension in Nicolaus’s voice showed that he knew he was intruding more on Lasse’s privacy than ever before.

Lasse stood for a while, looking at the water again before answering. If he wanted Nicolaus’s friendship, he’d have to take a chance and tell his something of his life. “I kill.”

“What! Is that a joke?” Nicolaus looked ready to faint.

“No.” Lasse dropped every bit of the polished surface he usually wore as a mask, and knew Nicolaus was facing empty eyes in a stonelike face. “Nicolaus, there are three things that I can do well enough to make a living. One, I can cook, but taking a place as a servant would mean placing myself in somebody’s power, and I cannot do that. Two, I can be elegant and desirable enough for wealthy people to pay me for sex. And I’ll do so if I need the money. Three, I can kill. I’m good at it, and I feel nothing in doing so.” He hesitated. “Except, once or twice, a slight regret.”

“Once or twice?” Nicolaus almost whispered. “But how many have you killed?”

“I don’t know. Twenty? Thirty? Less than a hundred. I’ve never tried to count.”

“But...but how? Why?” Nicolaus seemed even more shocked than Lasse had expected.