Felix checked a label on one of the bottles. He blew away dust to reveal the emblem of one of the best Parravonian vineyards, Desghulles.

“Someone has expensive tastes,” he told himself. He turned swiftly reaching for his sword when he heard the ladder creak behind him. Gotrek’s head poked round the edge of the doorway.

“Don’t wet yourself, manling, it’s me,” he said. Rudi emerged from behind him. “Right, let’s check the house and see if we can find our friend, the chief magistrate.”

“Not much noise above. The place sounds empty.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“I’ll stay here,” Rudi said. “And make sure your line of retreat is covered.”

Felix shrugged. It was probably better than having the big man blundering about up above. “You do that.”


Felix made his way cautiously to the foot of the stairs, keeping his lantern to the narrowest aperture so that only the faintest glimmer of light showed.

“I told you so: the house is empty,” Gotrek said.

Felix had to admit it looked like the dwarf was right. Where were the White Wolf guards? Where were the servants?

“Guards are most likely at the gatehouse. But where are the servants? A place this size should have some.”

“You’d know about that, I suppose.”

“Yes.”

Felix gently put his foot on the stairs. A shiver ran down his spine as it creaked under his weight. He paused and held his breath. No one came to investigate.

“Why are you being so quiet, manling? There’s no one here.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just because it’s not my house. I feel like a criminal. Why are you whispering?”

“You are being a criminal. So am I. Let’s search this place and see what we can find. You take upstairs. I’ll take below.”

It was only after he padded off near silently that Felix noticed that Gotrek was moving stealthily too. Felix moved on up the stairs, hoping that they would not creak.


In the bedroom, Felix closed the aperture of his lantern completely before sliding aside a curtain and looking outside. He glanced down into a large walled courtyard and he could see over the high walls into the street beyond. A large gate opened into the courtyard. On the left of the square was a stable and coach-house; on the right was a small barracks and a privy for the servants. Old oak trees lined the square. There were sentries: tall blond men in full armour, white wolf pelts draped round their shoulders. One paced from the gatehouse across the courtyard.

For a moment Felix feared that the man might be coming inside, but he soon turned off and headed towards a small barracks next to the stables. Slowly Felix let the curtain slide back into place and then he allowed himself to exhale.

No, it wouldn’t do to get caught here.