“Conall,” began Farling, “I think it goes without saying that you must keep this a secret.”
Conall nodded.
Farling touched the wall with his amulet and they entered the door that suddenly appeared.
“Farling, Grum, Arastead, and Conall,” announced Farling to Horund. “We are here to see Einar.”
Horund scratched their names into the book. “He is expecting you in the library. Conall is a new entry and can only be here as a guest.”
The boys all agreed, then left to find the library. There, they found Einar with a large group of thieves.
Einar shook hands with the Aarlunder. “Welcome, Conall, welcome to the thieves guild of Trondheim. My name is Einar, and I am the master of the Trondheim thieves guild.”
“A most wondrous place,” said Conall slightly shocked that the thieves guild Master was shaking his hand, and almost more shocked that Farling, Grum, and Arastead were welcome here. “Why is the sun at noon in the courtyard?”
Grum chuckled: “We will tell you later.”
Einar then explained the plan to rescue Cormac, the princess, and the others.
Once Einar finished, Conall said: “My uncles will want to come along.”
Einar shook his head: “Your uncles would never fit in the tight hidden passageways. They would get stuck like an ox and we would have to grease them up to pull them out. Not something an Aarlund warrior would appreciate.”
Conall smiled at the image. “No, my uncles would not appreciate that at all. I agree, perhaps it is best then that they stay behind.”
“Exactly, it is best they visit the king and princess as they did before, then leave at the appointed time back the way they came through the castle, all proper. That way, the guards on duty at the door will act as their alibis. Any questions? No, good, then we are off.”
“Good luck,” said Pressan, looking over his half-spectacle glasses. “You will need it.”
***
One of the Aarlund brothers had brought a curious looking stone that he placed on the table in front of Margret. He explained that it was charmed and prevented others from listening in on conversations once it had been activated.
Margret listened to his explanation, then, still wearing the circlet, had touched the stone in a certain pattern that made the stone glow, which was seen only by her.
“It is working,” she said. “No one in the corridor may hear us.”
Then she attended to the many bruises on Tuathail sustained during the quarterstaff event. Everyone else talked about how to escape and how they would destroy the barons as soon as possible.
Nas watched Margret as she worked. He saw the bruises on Tuathail fade. “You learn fast,” he said making Margret smile.
At the appointed time, a quiet tapping sound was heard.
Cormac whispered: “That is the signal. Is everyone ready? Good, turn off the charmed stone, daughter.” Margret touched the stone making it go dark.
She whispered as she gave the stone back to one of the brothers: “Everyone can hear us now.”
The brothers said their goodnights loudly as did everyone in the room so that all their voices could be heard by the guards outside. The brothers also said good night to the guards at the door, noticing that the guards looked briefly into the room to see Cormac and the others before closing the door.
***
With the sound of the main door closed, a hidden door on one of the walls swung silently open on oiled hinges. Conall’s smiling face popped out of the opening.
“It is safe, Your Majesty,” he said.
Cormac relaxed. “It is good to see you, Conall.”
“This is Einar, Farling, Grum, and Arastead,” introduced Conall. Everyone bowed before the king.
Einar whispered: “If it pleases Your Majesty, we should be going. I will be leaving a surprise behind for the Pitcairn thieves when they show up.”
And everyone left silently down the hidden passageway.
***
Doshmin and his Pitcairn thieves hung ghost-like on the wall outside the balcony that led to King Cormac’s chambers. If anyone had looked at the wall, they would have not noticed the thieves as their clothes blended seamlessly with the rock wall.
Doshmin listened closely to the sounds coming from the room. He heard the Aarlund brother warriors leave, a good sign as he did not want to cross swords with them. He motioned to his thieves that it would be just a few more minutes. Then they would take the Aarlund king unawares. He heard some more voices, and he thought for a moment they were new. He waited until the room went silent then he quietly dropped to the balcony, daggers in his hands. His thieves were close behind him as they ghosted into the room.
Doshmin instantly knew something was wrong.
“Out,” he hissed but it was too late. Shapes separated from the shadows and their blades glinted in the candlelight. Doshmin and his thieves were outnumbered. He sheathed his daggers and his thieves did the same.
The Trondheim thief closest to Doshmin pulled his own scarf off his face so he could more easily speak. “Welcome to Trondheim,” he said.
“What are the terms?” demanded Doshmin.
“You did not pay tribute on your fees when you entered Trondheim. We took the liberty of drawing up these papers for you to sign. We will send a delegation to Pitcairn to receive payment. There, we will review your paperwork to determine your fees for your work performed here.”
Doshmin gritted his teeth but could see no way out. He grabbed the offered pen, quickly reviewed the terms of the tribute, then signed his name at the bottom.
“It was nice doing business with you,” said the Trondheim thief. “Now, out you go.”
Doshmin and his thieves went out the balcony and climbed down the wall. Doshmin dismissed his thieves, then went to find the barons to tell them what had happened.
***
Einar led the group to the Trondheim thieves guild. Once safely inside, he led everyone to the library where Cruithni, Tuathail, Eithlenn, and Airthear waited. Food was laid out on the tables, much to the disgruntlement of Pressan. Einar introduced everyone while they ate the food.
Pressan interrupted the discussion, said: “Now, while everyone is here and safe, we still need to figure out a plan to rescue King Frederick.”
Einar nodded. “I suggest we surround Baron Sakarias’s pavilion with some of our best thieves,” he said, “and then sneak in and steal King Frederick.”
“Too many dead bodies,” said Pressan, “and any dead thieves will only draw attention to us.”
The discussion stopped as a thief entered and whispered in Einar’s ear.
“I have just been told that a cart has just left the Sakarias pavilion. And according to the report, he believes King Frederick is in the cart.”
“Does he still live?” asked Cormac.
“We do not know, Your Majesty,” said the thief who had whispered his report to Einar, “but we can only suspect that he still lives.”
Einar said: “I suggest that as many of us as possible mount, and ride after the cart and rescue the king.”
Pressan raised his hands in protest, said: “They may kill him outside the city before you approach. Remember, they want to start a war between Aarlund and Dennland.”
“If we ride now, they will not have much of a head start.”
“They will still kill him. They have come this far, they must see it through to the end. I do not think they have killed him yet, but are waiting until they are far outside the city.”
“Then what would you suggest?”
“We need to enlist the help of the Master of the Hunt.”
The room went completely silent.
Einar chuckled, said: “I think you had better enlighten the people here who do not know what we know about the Master of the Hunt, the black ship, and the Necklace of Freya.”
And like a good storyteller, Pressan told the story of the black ship, Freya’s necklace, and the Master of the Hunt.
/> Once Pressan finished, everyone looked at Farling, Grum, and Arastead with new respect.
Pressan continued: “So, I say we return the necklace to Freya early, which will end the Master of the Hunt’s commitment. Then, we find his fee or reason to hunt, and we ask him to retrieve King Frederick for us.”
“King Cormac, what say you?” asked Einar.
“King Frederick must be rescued,” he answered without hesitation. “These barons that kidnapped the king and placed an imposter on the throne of Dennland must be stopped. I also believe they will attempt everything within their means to start a war. What counsel do my fellow Aarlunders provide?”
Airthear spoke for the brothers, said: “I think Pressan is correct when he worries King Frederick will be killed if we ride up to the cart. The barons will then concoct a story and blame it on Aarlund. We must rescue King Frederick alive.”
“Nas, what counsel do you give?”
“The Master of the Hunt is a demi-god of sorts. He is powerful in his ability to find what he has been tasked to find. If we can get him to hunt for King Frederick, I believe that is our only chance. His hounds will strike fear in whoever is driving the cart and they will not think nor have time to kill King Frederick.”
“Daughter?”
“My future sight is weak with the circlet. I cannot tell what we should do based on what the circlet tells me. Nas has said that my future sight should grow stronger with practice, but right now, I cannot see what will happen.”
Cormac rubbed his chin., said: “I would also like to hear from the champions who boarded the black ship, fought a skeleton, and met the Master of the Hunt.”
Grum and Arastead pushed Farling till he stood up. Farling chuckled quietly at this friends antics, then cleared his throat, said: “Your Majesty, the Master of the Hunt seems fair, honest, and direct. He is also single minded in his hunt. He has no interest in killing us, if we meet his terms. If we can release him from his bond when we return the necklace to Freya, we may be able to task him with finding and returning King Frederick to us. He also has great speed which he will need to catch the cart. I just worry that his price might be too high, higher than we can afford.”
“Wise counsel from everyone,” said Cormac. “Our options are few, and time is not on our side. We need the aid of the Norse gods this time, and while the Master of the Hunt may not be a full god, he should be close enough.”
“Good,” said Einar. “Then it is decided. I will travel to the statue of Freya, place the necklace around her neck, bargain with the Master of the Hunt, and return King Frederick.”
“Whoa!” cried Farling, “I think you missed the part where we,” he gestured at himself, Grum, and Arastead, “are also coming along with you. We got the necklace off the black ship, we discovered that the rightful owner is Freya, we want to see it returned to her.”
Cormac said: “I too would like to meet this Master of the Hunt. And I would like Nas, Margret, and the four brothers to accompany me.”
“If I may be so bold, Your Majesty,” said Conall, “I too would like to come along.”
“Of course,” said Cormac, “Conall, you are welcome to join us.”
Einar sighed, said: “It is a slightly larger group than I expected. I am concerned we will draw attention if we walk through the city to the Paupers Cemetery.”
Farling shrugged, said: “Not a problem, as we should use the tunnel that runs from the Paupers Temple out past the cemetery, near the ruins of Freya’s temple, where her statue still stands. That way, we can add Sihr to the group. I know he will be happy to see the Master of the Hunt and his hounds again,” he added making Grum stifle a laugh.
“And the group gets bigger,” said Einar. “Fine, Sihr may accompany us. We will need his skill at opening and closing the doors for the hidden tunnel in the Paupers Temple.”
***
Goran paced back and forth across the floor in the king’s private chambers. This was not going as he had expected. He should have known that a magical item would one day appear that could see through his illusions, but the timing was awful. This was not some small job where he pretended to be someone else for a few hours. No, he was impersonating a king. And it was not some simple milkmaid that had discovered his disguise but a princess from Aarlund. And then there was that druid from Aarlund with his piercing eyes and strange body drawings who also always looked suspiciously at Goran.
There were things going on beyond his control. The mysterious black ship that reeked of magic that appeared one day, then left as strangely as it had appeared. Three young men had collected the reward from the merchants guild, but no one had been able to find out their real names. What items of magic had they used to board the ship? And would they use them against him?
Goran worried as well about all his royal protocol errors. His real hair had started to fall out he was so worried. He was making too many mistakes and Phillius was always stepping in to correct them, but soon, even Phillius would start to question Goran.
And Queen Astrid knew something was wrong with her king, he could tell. It was not just that he pretended to have a cold, she kept her distance from him whenever she could. He had always wondered about their relationship and wondered if it truly was this frosty or if by some instinct, she knew to stay away.
If there was anything to say about Goran, it was that he was a survivor. As he always said to himself: ‘When things got too hot, time to get out of the kitchen.’ Finding the magical amulet that gave him the ability to change his appearance had been an act of supreme kindness for him. He suddenly was able to move from town to town, city to city, and make money from the amulet.
But this job impersonating a king was different from all his other ones and even he wondered if it was even worth it. He was used to making enemies. What was one more? He had already been paid half. He was to collect the rest upon completion, but he decided then and there that he was happy with the amount he had already earned.
And with that thought, Goran knew what to do. He found his old clothes he had hidden, walked out the door, told his guards he was to meet Phillius. Then he found an unused room, changed his face and image to one of the stewards he knew was asleep, and walked out of the castle through the kitchen, and left Trondheim.
CHAPTER 20
The King’s Widow
Rickters shook Sihr awake.
“What is it, Rickters? I feel as if I just fell asleep.”
“You did, Master Sihr, but there are very important guests for you to meet. You need to get dressed.”
Sihr yawned, got dressed, and followed Rickters out to the main entrance. Who he saw made him forget all his fatigue.
Farling grinned, said: “Good to see you again so soon, Sihr,” then introduced everyone who had come to call the Master of the Hunt.
Sihr stood for a moment dazed wondering if he still dreamt. “Welcome to the Paupers Temple,” he managed to say. “How may I be of service?”
Einar stepped forward, said: “Put your boots on, priest, we are off to make a bargain with the Master of the Hunt. We need you to show us the way through the hidden tunnel that leads from the basement out to the forest.”
“You jest,” said Sihr but then noticed Farling and others gently shaking their heads. “You are serious. You cannot be serious.”
Farling said: “The Master of the Hunt wants the Necklace of Freya returned before the full moon. We have decided to return it early. Then we will ask the Master of the Hunt to find King Frederick for us as he has been kidnapped and has been taken out of the city.”
“Impossible.”
Grum chuckled, said: “Not impossible, just improbable. We will tell you more, Sihr, as we walk through the tunnel.”
“We will need torches,” said Sihr as he gathered some of his wits. “Lots of torches as we will need some on the way back as well.”
“Good, then let us be off,” said Einar.
Sihr led them down the stairs and found the latch that opened the secret door.
Sihr entered first, followed by Farling, Grum, and Arastead. Two of the Aarlund brothers walked in front of their king and his daughter, while the other two walked behind. Nas, Conall, and Einar were at the very back.
“Mind the stairs,” said Sihr.
The light from the many torches danced across the ceiling and the smoke gathered at the highest point in the arch. Everyone marveled at the building ingenuity that must have gone into creating the tunnel and the brickwork.
By the time they reached the far end of the tunnel, Farling had told Sihr about how King Frederick had been kidnapped, that it had been an imposter on the throne the last couple days wearing a scarf, and how Princess Margret’s new circlet gave her the power to see through the imposter’s illusion.
“All too much to take in,” said Sihr. Then, as they stood at the door: “To warn you, the Master of the Hunt’s hounds may be just outside this door. It would be best to hold out the necklace to placate them just in case they are there.”
Einar pulled the Necklace of Freya out of bag. The torchlight sparkled deep inside the jewels. He looked at the necklace for a moment, then handed it to Farling.
“It would be best for you to put it on the statue of Freya,” said Einar with a slight grin. “As you mentioned before, the person who places it on the statue should be the same person who got it off the black boat.”
“You just did not want the attention from the hounds,” said Farling. “And besides, it should be Arastead then who places it about the neck of the statue.”
“Thanks, Farling,” said Arastead, taking the necklace from Farling. “You did not want the attention from the hounds either I see.”
Grum snorted, suppressing a laugh, said: “You did not seem to mind the attention they gave you last time.”
“Yes, my favorite pastime,” said Arastead. “Big dogs sniffing me for items of magic.”
“Better you than me,” said Grum with a smile.
“Are we ready?” said Einar. “Good. Sihr, if you will, the door please.”
Sihr pulled the hidden latch and the door slide silently open on greased wheels. Cool air caressed their faces as they stepped outside. All around was thick forest. The waxing moon filtered its light through the canopy of leaves. The Master of the Hunt and his hounds were nowhere to be seen.
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