by D.E. Dunlop
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met a Saint, or had the opportunity to spend time with one, anyway.” Ollie concluded. “I should like to, I think.” He added as an afterthought.
The four studied and discussed legend and lore for a couple of hours before going their separate ways. A faint, shimmering glow in the corner was not noticed by any when they had entered Ollie’s house, nor was it noticed when it departed with them.
“Well I know where I’m going!” Tinne exclaimed when they reached the end of the walk.
“Where?” Ezbieta asked curiously.
“The Field of Lords, of course.” He said.
“What? Are you insane?” She asked. “You can’t go to the Field of Lords.”
“Why can’t we?” Ren inquired.
“You too? Oh, you guys drive me nuts sometimes. It’s just a fairy tale, and even if it were real, it says right in the book only the Story Tellers could find it.”
“Don’t you see? My great, great, grandfather told me about the dragon and the Field of Lords.”
“I thought you said he was just a crazy old uncle?” Ezbieta argued.
“This is proof that he wasn’t making it up.” Tinne continued.
“Its proof that he read the book is what it is.” She said with a little more excitement in her voice.
“She’s got a point there, Tinne. There’s nothing saying Earl didn’t just read the same book.”
Tinne’s lack of patience was getting the better of him and he stopped walking. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides.
“I know where it is.” He said through his locked jaw without raising his voice.
“You what?” Ren enquired as he and Ezbieta turned around.
“When Ollie read the passage about the Field of Lords I had a distinct sense that I knew where it was.” Tinne explained a little more calmly.
Ren and Ezbieta looked at each other for a second.
“Where is it then?” They asked in unison.
“On the other side of the lake.”
“Which lake?”
“Simcoe.”
“It’ll take a month to get to the other side of that lake. If you’re lucky.” Ezbieta discouraged.
“Are you in?” Tinne asked.
“No!” Ezbieta exclaimed just a bit annoyed he would even ask after such disagreement.
“Frickin’ right!” Ren answered at the same time.
Ren and Ezbieta looked at each other and argued briefly.
“I can’t go. I have to work!” She said.
“Oh, come on, Dick will let you go. It’s an adventure of a lifetime.” Ren complained.
“Yeah, and he’ll hire someone else.”
“Well I have to go. Don’t you see? He’s finally come around. I’m so proud! My little Tinne has finally grown up! He’s ready for adventure and it was his own idea.” Ren rationalized. “We’ll leave right after we steal the Kozlov.”
Tinne shot him a look as they started on their way again. “We are not stealing the Kozlov.” He said sternly.
“I know, I know. I meant look at it. We’ll leave after we look at the Kozlov.” He corrected.
“Fine then, you two go off on your adventure. I’ll just stay here and work. Ezbieta said attempting, slightly, to make them feel guilty about going without her.
“This isn’t just a game Bee. If we find the Field of Lords it will mean that Earl really was who he said.” Tinne reassured.
“It will also mean that you’re a Story Teller.” Ezbieta and Ren laughed because everyone knew how much Tinne hated telling stories.
“If that’s what I’m meant to do, so be it.” Tinne declared.
“Yeah, baby!” Ren cheered. “This is gonna be awesome; the adventure of a lifetime. This is precisely what we need. If we leave within a couple of days we should still have about four months before the snow falls.” He planned.
They continued on their way with Ren singing softly to himself, “…when I want somethin’ and I don’t wanna pay for it…” and Tinne fumed lightly at himself for agreeing to go into the vault.
The three friends arrived at Dick’s Place and sat for coffee. Various friends came and went throughout the evening.
**********
The large room was dimly lit by less than a dozen large candelabra spread out through the rows of people. There were several hundred men and women lying on cots sleeping. Or at least they appeared to be sleeping. These were the Spirit Hunters. They put themselves into a trance like state while meditating on a given target. At a very deep level of trance they are able to astral project, which means part of their conscience leaves their body and travels. While they are “out” they are able to travel to a destination or respond to key words or phrases. For example if someone were to mention the Black Dragon any of the Spirit Hunters, whose primary goal is finding this stone, would be drawn to within fifty metres of where it was mentioned.
The room is located deep within Katharine’s castle in Sitty and heavily guarded. The Spirit Hunters’ bodies are very vulnerable because they are in such a deep sleep like state that they will not hear or feel anything that is not loud or aggressive.
From the proper angle a slight glow can be seen encasing the spies.
A young woman stirred beneath the thin sheet and her body flashed bright before she sat up. The look on her face was first one of shock and quickly she gained her composure. She concentrated intensely for a moment and got up. She staggered slightly as she walked up to her platoon sergeant. Her gait gained confidence as her thoughts solidified.
“Are you certain?” The sergeant asked when she said she had something.
If a Spirit Hunter was inexperienced the projection could and sometimes did get confused with dreams. Both the spy and the platoon sergeant were at risk if a false claim was made to the Queen. As much as the guards protected the spies while they projected, Katharine’s biggest concern was ensuring the information she sought was kept safe. The individuals were nothing to her and many had been eliminated for reporting dream information.
The spy thought for a moment, inhaled deeply and replied.
“Yes, sir. They were the same men from last night.” She replied firmly.
The sergeant read the look in her eyes.
“Get dressed.” He ordered. For the purpose of achieving maximum relaxation the spies wore only a gossamer gown while projecting.
Chapter 8
The King’s Vault
Over the past few days the humidity level had risen steadily. Though the sky was clear, the moon was hazy and its light was dull. The heat of the sun was still locked within the moisture and our friends, though they wished to be concealed with full-length black clothing, were able to wear very little. Only the necessary garments were donned. Any and all exposed areas were painted black with charcoal and ash.
They stood in the shadows for a long time. They waited and waited until each felt within that it was time. Collectively they moved toward the target. Tinne climbed a neighbouring oak. He threw a grappling hook on to the roof of the vault and let the rope drop into a poorly lit inside corner. Carefully and quietly the three crept up the rope and onto the roof. Ren directed the other two to the air vent they would enter by and once they went for it he turned and dropped the rope and hook into the bushes below. He smiled to himself in the dark as the first perimeter guard came around the corner and passed by.
The dimly lit corridor shone in its polished cleanliness. In such a place as this every sound would be amplified a hundred times and echo just as much. Ren knew this from experience and forewarned his friends. On their feet they wore only soft leather, bound at the ankle and toes like thong sandals. With painful care they removed a ceiling tile and dropped one at a time to the stone floor three metres below.
The burglars huddled in the darkest corner they could find and struggled to control their breathing. Using only hand gestures
Ren signalled the directions to where they should find the Kozlov. A guard passed by at the end of the corridor and they waited as patiently as they could while their hearts pounded in their ears. They gave the guard a few minutes and they slowly and gently lifted the drain grate from the floor. Once the grate was set against the wall, ever so gingerly, they moved in the direction Ren had indicated. They crept without sound around each corner and down each hall. They stopped for long pauses at every intersection, niche and nook. They froze in their tracks every time they heard or made a sound. Ren went first and Ezbieta went last. Each maintained a distance of two metres from the next. They were stopped at a corner for an extra length of time before Tinne realized Ren must be able to see the target.
“Its frickin’ beautiful.” He heard Ren whisper under his breath.
The Kozlov was the finest piece of metal work human eyes had ever spied or smith had ever formed; it’s equivalent yet to be dreamed of. This sword was known, by myth and legend, throughout the world. Its possession guaranteed victory in any battle and was thought by all to be the very reason Bayfield stood so long without so much as a threat from her enemies.
Despite their closeness to one another Ezbieta could barely see the other two ahead of her. They had stopped. Other than the occasional sound of a guard’s footfalls somewhere in the vault it was absolutely silent. So silent in fact Ezbieta expected one of her companions to turn and tell her to be quiet because of the noise her limbs made as they were sneaking along. There was a niche beside her and as she glanced into it her lungs clamped on her last breath. A figure was standing in the back of the niche with one arm outstretched at the waist. After a double take she realized it was just a statue. She slowly released her breath, but as she turned to see if Ren and Tinne were yet moving she saw something glittering in the palm of the outstretched hand. She approached it like a cat stalking a bird on an over-head limb. When she was convinced there were no wires or traps she picked the small object up.
It appeared to be slightly larger than the egg of a small bird. It was a black stone or at least she thought that at first until she held it up in a faint beam of light. She noticed she could almost see through the edges. It was slightly darker in the centre and almost looked to have some sort of image there, perhaps an ornately decorated circle, but she couldn’t be sure.
Ren’s eyes shone as brightly as the gleaming steel they obsessed over. He wiped the sweat from his palms onto his knees. Tinne watched his friend from behind. His pulse echoed between his ears as he saw Ren hunker down and fidget like a cat preparing to strike. And then he heard it. The one thing he had hoped so hard against. Who was he kidding? He thought to himself. He knew this would happen all along. Ren was singing again. The same song he had been singing all week. “Hey alright! If I get bye, it’s mine, mine all mine…”
“Don’t you dare!” Tinne whispered as Ren tilted his head from side to side and then bolted out of sight.
He turned to tell Ezbieta to get ready to run. He was stunned to find she wasn’t there. All at once Ren yelled, “Run” and flew past him while he squatted there puzzled. Ezbieta barely had time to secure the object in the leather pouch on her waist before she heard Ren shout and she immediately sprang from the side niche and disappeared with him further into the vault. When Tinne snapped out of it a guard was nearly on him. He jumped and ran like he never knew he could. In less than an instant he passed his friends and dove into the floor drain. As he hit the bottom Ren and Ezbieta were with him again. They picked up and ran as hard as they could. The sound of footfalls and shouting behind them made them run even harder through the large underground waterways. They felt like their hearts were going to explode in their chests when the open end came into sight. Before they got there two guards stepped out on the other side of the large vertical grate. Tinne, Ren and Ezbieta did not slow down. Rykus had warned them that this was the only way out. They hit the grate sideways hoping their friend was telling the truth about having cut the bolts. Rykus was the type who would find great humour in his friends hitting a solid grate at full speed. He had, however, cut the bolts and the three thieves and the grate crashed down on top of the guards, knocking them into the shallow water. As the pursuing guards stopped to help their comrades get out from under the grate and the water their suspects slid through the drainpipe under the city wall and down the steep embankment to the bottom of Sunnidale Ravine. They kept running through the forest, up out of the ravine and into Kearsey cemetery where they finally collapsed from exhaustion. They lay on the ground amongst the headstones, clutching and gasping for air.
“Oh, my throat.” Tinne gasped.
“My chest.” Ezbieta groaned.
Ren just groaned and all three of them lay, spread out like starfish, for some time trying to catch any breeze there might be. Disappointed with the lack of airflow they eventually began to flap what little clothing they had on to create their own.
“I need a smoke.” Ren groaned.
By the time Ren finished his cigarette they were all sitting up. They looked at each other with satisfied looks.
“Now that was something to tell the grandkids about.” Ezbieta proclaimed.
“I love you!” Ren exclaimed and leapt on her smothering her with kisses. In turn, with a smile on her face, she punched him hard in the stomach and pushed him over.
“You said we were just going to look at it!” She scolded. “Were you trying to get us killed?”
“Don’t kid yourself.” Ren moaned. “You knew all along I was going to steal it. I’m a thief. That’s what I do.”
“Well you could have left us out of this one.” Tinne defected. “Now we’re accessories.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Come on, you have to admit it was exhilarating.”
“Well, it was definitely something.” Ezbieta said dryly.
“So, what are you going to do with it now? It’s not like you can wear it in public.” Tinne questioned.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really expect to get away with it.”
“If it wasn’t so hot I’d kick your ass.” Tinne warned.
“Shouldn’t we be moving on?” Asked Ezbieta a little concerned.
“No they won’t follow us out here in the night. We’ll be long gone by morning. Besides, they never saw what we looked like. We’ll wash our skin and put our regular clothes on. They’ll never suspect us. Just act normal and we’ll be fine.” Ren encouraged.
One by one they lay down to fan themselves with their clothes again and eventually went to sleep.
Tinne sat up startled. He had heard a twig snap from being stepped on.
“Relax, Spaz. It’s just me.” Ren said. “We fell asleep. We better get going.” He explained as he woke Ezbieta.
“I guess I’d better not go that way.” Tinne said as he stopped himself from going toward the ravine.
“Yeah, no, we can’t even go down to the lake either. We’d better go around to Willow Creek and then around to the South Gate. C’mon Bee. The sun’s comin’ up. We gotta get movin’. We stayed too long.” Ren said, shaking Ezbieta again.
They quickly rounded up their horses that had been wandering the forest since early in the previous evening. They rode north by a seldom used, old concession road in order to avoid detection. With the rising sun their blackened skin, which had been beneficial the night before, would give them away immediately. They only had to stop once to let some soldiers go by. By mid morning they reached a wide section of Willow Creek with sandy banks. The cold water was refreshing and crisp. Even the horses played in it for a while to escape the weight of the humidity. When they were cooled off they spent some time exploring the abandoned mill on the bank of the creek. They tried to scare each other by telling stories of the ghosts haunting the abandoned structure.
While the sun surpassed its apex at midday the three approached the city from the east on Cundles Road. They dec
ided it would be a good idea to go back in to the city on the opposite side they came out. As they rode casually up to the East Gate the gallows loomed to the north of them, a solemn reminder of their fate should they be found out.
A guard stopped them at the gate. There was a fair bit of commotion going on within the city.
“We’re going to have to search you.” The guard said.
“What for?” Ren asked nonchalantly.
“Captain’s orders. We search everyone coming through the gate, in or out.” The soldier said and started to search their gear. Ezbieta’s heart raced as the guard pulled at the buckles on the weapons case of Ren’s tackle. She hoped her reaction had not been seen when the guard removed an ordinary sword and put it back. “Thanks for your cooperation, Sirs, Miss.” He said after he searched them. “Have a nice day.”
A couple of blocks in Ezbieta finally spoke.
“Holy frick! Crap, am I ever glad you ditched that thing.” She exclaimed.
Ren only smiled and tapped the side of his head indicating his opinion of his level of genius.
The three continued casually on their way, hiding their nervous state even from each other. They went straight to Dick’s Place as was their want and habit. Once they were seated in their favourite places they discussed in hushed voices, the adventure from the night prior.
“My knees still feel like rubber. I had no idea I could run that fast.”
“Doesn’t say much for those guards. We’ve been sitting on our keisters without real exercise forever and still we out ran them.”
“They got pretty freakin’ close though.”
“I felt the wind as he missed my shoulder, he got so close.”
A short while later Jas’n came in. When he saw his friends his face lit up with a goofy grin.
“What?” Ren shot at him as he sat at the table.
“You did it!” Jas’n exclaimed.
“Did what?” Ren demanded indignantly.
Jas’n looked over his shoulder to check for eavesdroppers and then back to the three at the table. “You stole the Kozlov.” He said quietly.