Beyond Redemption by Michael R. Fletcher Page B

something unsavory.
    Why the hells am I hiding?
    Stehlen looked up and down the empty street. She should just walk in the front door and get this done. A last look showed her she was alone. Stehlen spat and marched up the front steps to the church’s main entrance. Damned if I’ll skulk around the back just to please Bedeckt.
    The large doors were unlocked and unguarded and she slipped inside. No stupid plan. No mucking about in the garbage dump behind the church. It was nice to enter such a place as a civilized person for once.
    Stehlen, checking that her sword and knives sat loose in their sheaths, strode down the hall. She figured the laundry room would be somewhere near the back of the temple. Heavy walls constructed of fieldstones were entirely undecorated and the stone floor had been worn smooth by generations of shuffling feet. After minutes of wandering at random she realized she’d completely lost her sense of direction. She stopped, listened intently, and then followed the muted sound of soft snoring to its source.
    The sleeping priest couldn’t have been much over nineteen. Fair-haired and only beginning to show a scruff of facial hair, he was boyishly attractive. Had she more time and less specific instructions from Bedeckt, she might have tried to seduce him in the dark. Instead she clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed the blade of her knife against his throat. He awoke with a muffled squeak and froze in terror.
    Stehlen leaned forward to hiss in the young man’s ear. “Tell me where the laundry room is.”
    â€œMnmmnph,” he said though her hand.
    â€œSmartarse. Just point.”
    He pointed, and when she glanced to see where he was pointing, she felt him tense. She reacted without thought, driving the knife up through his chin and into his brain.
    Stehlen wiped the blade off on the bedsheets. “See,” she whispered to the corpse, “if you think quickly you don’t need a plan.” She took a quick look around the room and helped herself to a few knickknacks and what little coin she found. Damned priests are always destitute.
    In the hall she ran into two more priests and killed them both. Their opened throats made for an impressive mess.
    Just have to think and react quickly. No problem.
    In the kitchen she found two women scrubbing pots and preparing the next day’s meals. With a weary shrug she killed them too.
    She found the laundry room littered with dirty robes and even dirtier underclothes. The majority of the robes were plain spun brown, but she found a few much rougher-looking sets of gray robes, and one set in expensively finished burgundy. It didn’t take much to figure out the ranking system. Burgundy on top, gray on the bottom. Whoever owned the burgundy robes must have been pretty small, but they looked like they’d fit her comfortably. Stehlen laughed at the thought of outranking Bedeckt and the World’s Greatest Blithering Idiot. She took a moment to sniff out the largest and least offensive brown robes for Bedeckt—not that the thoughtless bastard would appreciate her efforts—and a set of gray robes reeking of sour sweat and pig shite for Wichtig.
    Then she contemplated her escape. She could stumble around the unlit backyard with an armload of dirty laundry and hopeshe didn’t fall into the temple’s midden pit or simply walk out the front door. The choice was easy.
    On the way out she killed another priest and then stopped at the main entrance when she heard yelling from within the temple. Someone had found one of the corpses. With a disgusted grunt she dropped the robes on the floor and headed back into the temple.
    How many damned priests can there be?
    Fifteen, apparently.
    STEHLEN DUMPED THE robes in her room and met up with Wichtig—unfortunately still alive—and Bedeckt in the bar.
    Bedeckt waited until she had a pint in front of her before speaking. He had a strange set of manners; he’d