What the River Owes: The Strutting Cock

The Strutting Cock

Jost winced as Heidi's voice cut through the stale air of the common room. “The room can wait! Take me to him now."

Heads turned; eyes watched. Discretion was already dead. Josef, the innkeep, stopped mid-sentence and simply sighed, waving them toward the back. “Go on, then. Pit's not going anywhere."

Before they breached the yard's threshold, Jost caught Janderke’s arm. “Keep your hand on the axe," Jost murmured, his eyes sweeping the muddy expanse, the stable shadows, the inn's rear door. “Take nothing for granted." Whatever rotted in that pit was one thing, but the dark around it was another. Caution cost nothing; carelessness cost everything.

Jost hung back, watching the reunion unravel the family. Emmerich Handler’s pale hands seized the rusted bars before his cracked voice could form words. Heidi didn't just kneel; her legs seemed to give out, dropping her into the freezing mud. Gretchen peered down into the gloom.

“Daddy?" she asked, her small voice trembling. “Why are you in the ground?"

Jost let them have a minute. They deserved that much before the Empire's grim reality intruded. Then he stepped to the grate.

“He has to stay there," Jost said. His voice was flat, devoid of cruelty but offering no false hope. “We’ll see he gets bread, maybe a small ale. But we aren't breaking a man out of a lawful hold. Not with roadwardens a day out and every reason to let this go the honest way." He knelt, forcing Handler to meet his gaze through the iron lattice. “This is a challenge to your name. The only right answer is to stand and face it. Don't skulk in the dark like you've something to hide. You haven't. Don't act like it."

Handler gripped the bars tighter, letting out a wet sound mixing a half-sob, half-laugh. “You're right. I'll stand it."

Jost made good on his minor mercy. It took more charm than his exhausted, aching bones wanted to muster, but he cornered Josef and secured a hot meal for the pit. “Whatever he's done or hasn't," the innkeep muttered, surprising Jost with the flicker of pity in his rheumy eyes, “no man should face the rope on an empty stomach."

They split the night into watches. Sometime before dawn, Jost heard footfalls, heavy and deliberate, but when he strained to place them, the shadows offered nothing. By morning, his exhaustion was a physical weight behind his eyes. He tried to sweep the morning crowd in the common room, looking for threats, but his focus kept slipping. He couldn't trust his own instincts.

Then, the coach rumbled into the yard. Two foaming horses, six mounted roadwardens, and a lean, hard-eyed bastard at their head who could only be Captain Kurtz. Hanging back, wearing the sour sneer of a man who knew his coin was slipping away, rode Lars the bounty hunter.

Janderke scanned the escort, but Jost saw his shoulders slump. Ortwin Kessler wasn't among them. A foolish hope as Lieske was a massive garrison. There was no reason it should have been him.

Kurtz dispensed with pleasantries. The tables were shoved aside. Handler, stinking of mud, piss, and fear, was marched to the center of the room. Kurtz unspooled a parchment, reading with procedural deadness. “You are accused of being Heinz Gerber. What have you to say for yourself?"

“I plead innocence, milord," Handler said. His voice cracked, but held. “For I am not the man you claim I am."

“Words," Kurtz spat. “What proof do you have? Who will stand for you?"

Jost kept his eyes locked on Lars. The bounty hunter didn't look confused; he looked calculating. Lars’s hand drifted toward his sword hilt, stilled, and gripped it tight. He was doing the fast, unhappy arithmetic of lost bounty and wounded pride.

Before Jost could step in, Heidi shoved past the roadwardens. “I am Heidi Handler, from Gersdorf. And this man is my husband, Emmerich."

Gretchen broke from Janderke’s side, pointing a small, clean finger at the mud-caked man. “Daddy!"

The iron indifference on Kurtz's face shattered. He pivoted, his heavy gauntlet catching Lars across the jaw with a crack that made half the room flinch.

“Waste my time again, Lars," Kurtz snarled, leaning over the bleeding bounty hunter, “and you'll be the one swinging from a rope." Kurtz straightened, not sparing a single glance for the family he had nearly destroyed. “You men. Release the prisoner." He stalked out into the daylight. Apologies were not in his writ.

Lars lingered in the doorway. He wiped a streak of blood from his split lip, his cold eyes fixing on Jost, then Janderke. He left without a word, taking his malice with him.

Later, Jost bought Josef a pint and pressed the innkeep about Lars.

“Hungry," Josef said, wiping down the scarred wood. “Not the first wrongful catch he's brought in. Not the first man who's paid a price Lars avoided. I wouldn't call him evil, not outright. But he's not the sort you want deciding your guilt in the dark, either."

Jost filed the name away. Lars would not forget them; Jost would ensure he didn't forget Lars.

All that remained was the logistics of survival: getting the Handlers safely home. A morning spent prowling the docks led Jost to Volkmar, a fish trader stinking of brine who was bound for Gersdorf. Volkmar refused twice, citing the danger of the roads and the weight on his wagon. It took Jost pushing every bit of leverage he had: silver, veiled threats, and sheer, stubborn exhaustion to finally wring a reluctant yes from the merchant. Four seats were won.

Jost would ride escort on the wagon. Janderke would follow by water once the boat was sound, letting the current do the work this time, and meet them all in Gersdorf.

The Strutting Cock had given them a freezing pit, a near-hanging, and an enemy they hadn't gone looking for. It was time to finish the errand they had actually set out to do.

Endnotes — Part 4

• DL-013: Jost's Perception Test on the common room, checking for anyone watching Heidi, failed narrowly — no confirmation either way of who might have been paying attention.
• DL-014: A Charm Test to secure Handler a proper meal succeeded by two degrees — a small, clean kindness, cleanly earned.
• DL-015: A hidden overnight watch check came up quiet — no threat materialized, though the night's ambiguous footsteps were kept in the narrative regardless for atmosphere.
• DL-016: Jost's morning Perception Test failed badly — a real, human lapse from exhaustion rather than any narrative contrivance.
• DL-017: A hidden check determined Ortwin Kessler was not among Kurtz's escort — a door left closed rather than conveniently opened.
• DL-018: Jost's Perception Test reading Lars's reaction succeeded by three degrees — arguably the single most important roll of the whole arc, since it's what puts Jost and Janderke on alert going into the hearing itself.
• DL-019: A Gossip Test with Josef afterward succeeded, surfacing Lars's history of wrongful catches and unpunished harm.
• DL-020: A Gossip Test searching for onward transport succeeded, turning up Volkmar.
• DL-021: The Charm Test to secure a fourth seat on Volkmar's wagon succeeded only after two Fortune Points were spent chasing it down — a genuinely hard-won yes.