The meal itself had been simple enough, a platter of bread, cheese and fruit, accompanied by a flagon of wine, which von Eckstein had discreetly avoided in favour of the contents of a carafe already sitting inconspicuously on a side table, but the flavours and textures had been of a quality that Rudi had never before experienced. Hanna had accepted the wine dubiously, waiting until Rudi had taken a mouthful of his own before sipping cautiously at it. Having tried the drink before, during his meal with Fritz in Marienburg, Rudi had felt no such reservations. The vintage was a little fruitier than the bottle he’d shared with the simpleton at the Gull and Trident, but just as refreshing, and it complemented the food perfectly. “It seems Fritz was right,” von Eckstein said at last. “We were lucky you decided to leave Marienburg when you did.” Though he was undoubtedly astute enough to have realised there was much they were leaving out of their account, to Rudi’s relief the nobleman didn’t press the point, preferring to concentrate his questioning on their encounters with the agents of Marienburg.
