On the other hand, there was now very little-if anything-Lasse would stop at doing to remain out of Otto’s power. Dragging his mind back to the present where Herr Messer droned on about his royal connections, how important he was, and how Lasse should really come to his room to see the goblets, Lasse laid his plans.
Shit! The bastard was a beater! Lasse twisted to break the silver chains binding him, as the whip hit him again. He hadn’t liked the chains, but Herr Messer’s explanation about liking to see a beautiful body wrapped in the work of his hands had seemed innocent enough, and it wasn’t until Herr Messer had suddenly tied a gag over his mouth that Lasse had realized his danger. Ignoring the pain from the whip, Lasse concentrated on twisting a kink in the chain. He had been tied before, both for real and with the purpose of letting him think he could escape, and knew that the chain would break easier at a kink than if he just pulled.
At last the chain broke, and when the whip came down again Lasse rolled off the bed and got hold of his knife from his doublet on the chair. Herr Messer stood frozen for a moment before shouting and running for the door. Before he could reach it, Lasse grabbed the fleeing man and with a hand over his mouth, cut his throat with a single stroke. Only when the blood stopped spouting did Lasse let go of the corpse. He held the knife ready to strike again, when the door in front of him began to open. The intruder was a short, rather skinny, young woman that he vaguely remembered seeing in the taproom. Seeing that she was also holding a knife in her hand made him pause.
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 Warnemunde 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.”