“I will not ride while you walk,” said Lee.
Lyndria nodded. “Then perhaps Millet would allow me to ride with him.”
Millet smirked. “Of course.”
Lee opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He stood there, flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger, then cleared his throat and pretended to check his saddle.
The moment they entered Dashivis Pass, the wind picked up and grew colder. Millet, reaching into the pack bound to the saddle, pulled out his blanket and offered it to Lyndria sitting behind him.
“That is not necessary,” said Lyndria. “I am accustomed to the cold.”
Millet pulled out a second blanket. “I brought two.”
Lee huffed and spurred his horse to a quick trot. “Hurry. I want to cover as much ground as possible before the sun sets.”
Millet laughed at Lee’s discomfort and followed. “Careful, Lee. Your horse isn’t as resilient as you are.”
Dashivis Pass was little more than a narrow trail, barely wide enough for a wagon. The sheer rock walls of the mountainside were jagged and cracked, and the howl and whistle of the wind drifted down like a thousand angry spirits. The ground was more or less even and easy to navigate, worn smooth over the centuries by thousands of travelers. Intermittently, there would be caves large enough to shelter in if needed; some were little more than shallow cavities, others disappearing deep inside the mountain. Each time they passed one, Lee became noticeably uneasy.
“Too many places to hide for an ambush,” he remarked. He slid his hand to his sword and glanced back at Millet. “How long did you say the pass is?”
“About three days’ ride,” Millet replied.
“So tell me,” said Lyndria. “How long have you two known each other? You seem unlikely traveling companions.”
“Lee is my nephew,” answered Millet, before Lee could speak. “And you’re not wrong about the “unlikely” nature of our relationship. I have been looking after him since he was orphaned, ten years ago.”
“Is that right?” Lyndria asked Lee playfully. “Does he look after you?”
“He thinks he does,” said Lee. “But most of the time he’s just an annoying busybody. If we run into real trouble, then you’ll see who needs looking after.”
“I hope not to find out,” remarked Millet. “I would rather our journey be uneventful.”
Lyndria smiled and shook her head.
By the end of the day, the wind was picking up in earnest, and the temperature had dropped so that even the blankets were of little help. They found a shallow recess in the rock wall, just large enough to house both them and the horses. Millet set about building a fire and preparing a meal, while Lee set up the bedrolls.
It was then that Lee noticed something he had missed before. He looked up at Lyndria. She took a step back, just outside the cave. Her demeanor had changed. She looked serious...dangerous. Lee scanned for his sword. It was several feet away, leaning against the wall near to the horses. Before he could move, Lyndria nodded her head and six ragged looking men, clad in filthy brown tunics and pants, leaped into view. Each of them was holding a crossbow.
“I was wondering when you’d notice,” said Lyndria. “What is the meaning of this?” cried Millet.
“She had no pack,” said Lee, disgusted with his own ineptitude. “No one would travel so far with only the clothes on their back.”
Lyndria laughed. “Precisely. And please do not try to impress me by dying. I would rather you come peacefully.”
“So you do not intend to kill us?” asked Millet.
“Not yet,” she replied. “So if you wish to live a bit longer, allow my men to bind and blindfold you.”
Lee crouched. The muscles in his legs tensed. “If they touch me, they’ll wish they hadn’t.” His voice was deep and menacing.
The men shifted nervously and trained their bows at Lee’s heart.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Lyndria. “Not only will you die, but so will your uncle. Do you want his death on your conscience?”
“Please, Lee,” begged Millet. “Do as she says.”
Lee glared at Lyndria defiantly. He stood there for a full minute as the tension continued to build. Finally, his shoulders sagged and he nodded his head. Two of the men placed their bows on the ground and tied Millet and Lee’s hands behind their backs. Lee grunted as the rope was pulled tight; too tight for him to slip, and expertly knotted. His eyes never left Lyndria until he was blindfolded.
“If you kill me,” said Lee. “I want the blindfold removed. I would see the face of my killer.”
“I give you my word,” said Lyndria. “But you never know.
You may yet survive.”
Lee could hear the men gathering their belongings together. Cursing himself for allowing them to capture him, he struggled against the ropes. But even with his massive strength, he had no hope of breaking them.
They were led into the frigid night air, and then walked south for an hour. By the time they stopped he was chilled to the
bone. He hoped Millet was able to endure. He may not like the man, but as a part of his house, he was responsible for him.
“Millet,” Lee called out.
“I-I’m h-here,” Millet replied, his voice trembling from the
cold.
“Don’t worry,” said Lyndria. “You’ll be warm soon
enough.”
Lee could hear hushed voices, but could not make out the words over the roar of the wind. After another few minutes he was pushed roughly to his right side. Within seconds the wind was silent. He could hear the echoes of many booted footsteps as they entered a cave. The ground was uneven and sloped down. They wound their way through a series of twists and turns until he heard the crackle of a fire. The warmth was welcome, and he nearly sighed with relief. He was led a few more feet, then forced to his knees. Lee could hear Millet’s shivering breath next to him.
A short time later, Lee heard shouting echoing off the rock walls. As it drew near he could make out two distinct voices. One of them was Lyndria’s.
“So you would have me kill them and leave their bodies on the road?” she yelled.
“I would have you let them pass without noticing us,” shouted a deep male voice. “They might have turned back if they didn’t find the bridge. You’re reckless and stupid.”
“And you’re behaving like a stubborn ox,” said Lyndria. “You can always kill them if you wish. But the young one is more than he pretends to be. He rides the horse of a noble, and his sword is worth more than a year’s wages.”
“So you say,” said the man. “We will see.”
Lee heard heavy footfalls approaching fast. Then the blindfold was ripped from his eyes. It took a moment for his vision to adjust. Slowly he could see that he was in a small rock cavern, twenty feet long, about twice as wide, and just high enough for a tall man to stand erect. A small fire was burning near the wall across from where he sat. The smoke drifted up into a small crack in the rock. A few bedrolls were pushed carelessly against the near wall along with his pack, and his sword was resting beside the narrow entrance, along with Millet’s knife and belt.
Lyndria was standing beside a hulking, black haired man. He was shirtless and bore several tattoos across his massive chest. Most were symbols Lee didn’t recognize, but the sign of Saraf, God of the Oceans, (and Lee’s father) was clearly visible over his heart. He had a square jaw and deeply set brown eyes, which looked down at him with fury. His brown wool trousers were stained and tattered, and his brown leather boots were worn from years of hard use. In his right hand, thick fingers wrapped around a rusted, six inch dagger. He snarled, revealing several gold teeth. He reached down and effortlessly pulled Lee to his feet.
“Who are you?” he demanded. His voice rumbled with barely contained anger. “And don’t lie, or it will be the last words you speak.” His rolling r’s and sharp vowels sounded Baltrian, though more crude and guttural.
Lee looked to Mille
t, who was still blindfolded. “My name is Lee Starfinder, and this is Millet Gristall.”
“If you wish to speak,” said Millet. “You should speak to me. Lee is in my charge.”
Lyndria pulled a knife from her belt and cut his blindfold.
Millet squinted and blinked.
“I believe you are the more intelligent,” said Lyndria. “But I have my doubts as to your kinship.” She helped Millet up.
“Does it matter?” asked Millet. “My nephew, son, friend, or just a traveling companion. The fact is, I am the one to speak to.”
“It matters,” said the man. “It matters quite a bit.”
“Then you know the truth,” said Millet firmly. “Lee is my nephew. We journey to Dantory to seek work from my cousin. You have all that we possess. What further use can you have for us?” He straightened his back. “And would you be so kind as to introduce yourself?”
The man approached Millet until he was less than an inch from his nose. “I am Jaleel. And I would know why two fools would brave Dashivis Pass?”
“Because I am weary of my nephew’s foolishness,” said Millet. “The pass would cut weeks from our trip, and I am anxious to be rid of his daily complaining. An action I now regret.”
Jaleel fixed his eyes on Millet’s, then took a step back. “And what work do you seek in Dantory?”
“My cousin is a cloth merchant,” said Millet. “As far as what work we shall do…that will be up to him.”
Jaleel turned to face Lyndria. “They’re your responsibility until I decide what to do with them.” He glanced back at Millet and shook his head. “See to it that they stay put.” He stalked from the cavern, squeezing his broad shoulders through the narrow opening.
“Well, at least you get to stay alive for a while longer,” said Lyndria, amused.
“Indeed,” said Millet. “But I wonder what Baltrian pirates are doing this far north?”
Lyndria’s smile vanished. “Very observant. But I suggest you mind your tongue when you speak to Jaleel. He isn’t as good natured as I am.” She led them, one at a time, to the fire and sat them down. “If you’re thinking of escape, know that the bowmen that helped me capture you are just outside and have orders to shoot anyone that exits…even me.”
“How did you know they are pirates?” asked Lee.
“The symbol of Saraf over his heart was one indication,” Millet replied. “And a few of the other tattoos made it clear that Jaleel is no ordinary Baltrian sailor.”
Lee looked Lyndria up and down. “You don’t look much like a pirate.”
“And you would know this how?” asked Lyndria. “I suppose through your vast experience with seafaring folk.” She sneered. “You should let Millet speak. Silence is your best ally.”
Lee scowled, but kept quiet.
More than an hour passed by, and Jaleel still hadn’t returned. Lyndria stood and began to pace. Then a commotion could be heard just outside the entrance. A second later a thin man in a brown tunic and pants stumbled in. He held a short sword, and blood trickled down his forehead.
“It’s happened again,” he wheezed, out of breath. “It got Hustra and Vantra this time.” He wobbled, then steadied himself against the wall. “Tore them limb from limb it did.”
Lyndria helped the man to remain standing. “When?”
“Just now,” he replied. “Jaleel sent me to warn you. It might be headed this way.”
Lyndria nodded and turned to Lee and Millet. “Keep quiet if you value your life.”
“What’s going on?” asked Lee. “I said quiet,” snapped Lyndria.
A short time later, Jaleel entered, a grave expression on his weathered face. “It’s gone for now.”
“How many?” asked Lyndria.
“Only Hustra and Vantra,” Jaleel replied. “It ripped them to pieces before the rest of us could get there.” He spat. “Bloody demon.”
“What the hell is going on here?” demanded Lee.
Jaleel turned and stormed at Lee. Just before he reached him, Lyndria stepped in the way.
“He has done nothing,” she said. “Save your fury.”
Jaleel nodded slowly, then leaned against the wall beside the fire. “We came here a year ago from Baltria to search for an ancient treasure: The Jewel of Dantenos, God of the Dead.”
“I’ve heard stories,” said Millet. “It is said to be the gem that once rested in the crown of Islisema, Goddess of the Moon and Stars.”
“Yes,” Jaleel affirmed. “The legend says that Dantenos stole the jewel and hid it in the mountains after she rejected his advances.”
“You mean you’re here looking for bedtime stories?” scoffed Lee. “You must be joking.”
Jaleel flashed an annoyed glance as Lee. “I’m not a fool, boy. I wouldn’t come here if I didn’t know the jewel is real.” He reached into his belt and pulled out a ripped scrap of parchment. “I was given this by my father before he died.” He held it up for Lee and Millet to see. “He found this while…trading off the coast of Althetas. The owner gave his life to protect it.” On the parchment were written two lines of eleven letters. “I had this translated. It says: “Dantenos’ vengeance will find its way to the mountain that cuts the earth in twain. There you will find the treasure of dark dreams and…”
Jaleel frowned. “It ends there.”
“That’s it?” mocked Lee. “Two lines on a worthless parchment, and you go on a fool’s errand?”
“That’s enough, Lee,” barked Millet. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
Lee huffed. “I just...” But another look from Millet silenced
him.
“Rest assured I didn’t come here before I was certain,”
continued Jaleel. “This parchment is a piece of a map. I searched for fifteen years for the rest of it. Finally, I found it at the Temple of the Far Sky, buried in the grave of the temple’s founder.”
“How did you get it?” asked Millet. “The temple is well guarded, and they would…” His voice trailed off as he saw an evil grin and a sinister glint in Jaleel’s eyes.
“The rest of the map convinced me that the jewel is real,” said Jaleel.
“Where is it?” asked Lee. “Can we see it?”
Jaleel threw his head back and laughed. “I would be a fool to tell anyone that, now wouldn’t I? No, I have it safely hidden.” “So what happened?” asked Millet. “Clearly you haven’t
found this jewel yet.”
“No,” admitted Jaleel. “I brought my crew here. We found the cave and tunnels. Everything was as it should be. Until about six days ago.” He paused, and bowed his head. “That’s when it appeared.”
“That’s when what appeared?” asked Millet.
“We were exploring the tunnels,” said Jaleel. “Some had been blocked off, so we were digging them out. Then it came. A blackness! That’s the only way to describe it. It was like a living
thing. It came from deep inside the mountain and started picking us off, one by one.”
“I don’t understand,” said Lee. “What do you mean by
blackness? Like a cloud of smoke or something?”
“I mean blackness,” Jaleel replied. His voice was distant, yet boiled with anger. “Our torches and lamps burned, but the light disappeared. When it was gone, it left death behind. I’ve lost seven men so far.”
“Why not leave?” asked Millet.
Jaleel turned and met Millet’s eyes. “I’ll not run like a coward. Not after all these years of searching. I’ll find a way to kill it.”
“If there is a way to kill it,” added Lyndria. “So far we can’t lay a finger on it.”
“I’ll find a way,” said Jaleel. “These dogs can run if they want. I’m staying.”
“I take it your men want to leave,” remarked Millet. “That’s what I was doing when you found me,” said
Lyndria. “Trying to track down two deserters.”
The sound of footsteps and angry voices could be heard approaching. Moments
later, a group of dust covered men began to file in. They wore torn, thin clothing, far more suited to life aboard ship than amongst the mountains. They carried a variety of weapons, ranging from daggers and clubs, to short swords and crossbows. They were unwashed, bruised and agitated. Fifteen men in total filed inside. Jaleel and Lyndria rose to their feet and faced the mob.
A short, stocky fellow with dirty blond hair and flat features stepped forward. “Captain,” he said. “It’s time we gave up on this madness. We’ve had enough of us dying for nothing.”
Jaleel stepped forward and drew his blade. “Silence, you cur!” His form seemed to grow as his voice boomed throughout the cavern. “If any of you think you should be the new captain, now is the time to try. I promised you riches. And on that word I stand. But if any of you think to scare me into turning coward…” He fingered his blade and grinned.
The man took a step back.
“It’s not like that captain,” he continued, nervously. “It’s just that we keep getting killed. Whatever devil’s here, we can’t fight it.”
“I’ll fight it,” said Lee. He struggled to his feet. “If you release us and return our horses and gear, I’ll kill your devil for you.”
“Are you insane?” cried Millet. “Sit back down and be quiet.”
Lee ignored Millet and stepped forward. “What do you say?”
Jaleel nodded with approval. “You may be foolish boy, but you have more courage than this lot.” He looked down at Millet. “And what about your friend? He doesn’t sound like he’s wanting to go with you.”
“I don’t need him,” replied Lee. “He’d just get in the way.” Jaleel lowered his head in thought for a minute. Finally, he turned to his men who were still shifting and shuffling uneasily. He pointed to the man who had spoken. “You. Take your blade and hold it to the old one’s throat.” The man obeyed. “I’ll cut you loose. If you try to flee, your companion dies. Understood?”
The Jewel of Dantenos: A Lee Starfinder Adventure Page 2