Book 2 Dead Man's Hand: The Knights of the Golden Dragon

by Troy Reaves

  “The creature, I almost fell into the creature.” Rinoba’s tone would have sounded more at home in a temple in any other circumstances. The respect and fear that most felt when paying homage to their God or Goddess of choice were both present. Had Boremac been able to speak, he knew his words would have sounded the same.

  “Yes,” Dena spoke, almost dismissively. She seemed to be trying to calm her companions as much as herself. “That is all the more reason to take the lesson to heart. I do not believe you will get another chance to be so cavalier, brave Prince. We should be going. Obviously the creature had little trouble following us. You have to admire its patience and tenacity. I imagine any one of us would feed it for quite some time.” The laugh that followed her words was as dire as it was free. There was no malice in it, only acknowledgement of the determination of the ooze and a release of the fear that had come with the threat being overcome. Inside she wondered just how much intelligence the creature actually had, how much it relied on pure instinct, and if they would all be so lucky next time. She could not restrain the shudder that passed through her as she bent to pick up her staff, seeing the glow of the pool of misty ooze once more. It was much larger than she seemed to remember.

  Rinoba was much more careful with his leaps as the group ascended toward their prize after his fall. They all were, even though Dena seemed familiar enough with the steps that led to their destination. She had left her staff shining brightly, clearly agitated it seemed to Boremac, though she chose to maintain her silence for a while. When she broke her silence, Boremac found he wished she had kept her own counsel. Her words were less than reassuring.

  “The ooze pool we saw is much larger than the last time I encountered it, maybe even twice as large. My explosive globes were not designed to harm something that size. They were untried even against it as a smaller creature.” She shook her head as if attempting to shoo away foolish thoughts and finally furrowed her brow in dismay. “I have visited a great weight upon the two of you, I fear. We have to go up quickly. The creature obviously has no trouble following us and our destination leaves us no readily defensible position against it. If we are taken by surprise, we are lost. I should make preparations in case.”

  Rinoba made a noise as if to reply before Boremac reached out and clamped a hand firmly over his mouth. Boremac had known two things he could probably count on. Rinoba saying, or doing, something stupid and Dena taking the opportunity to ‘prepare’ them because of it. He had a statement ready for just this occasion. “Um, no. No blessings, no confessions, mostly because the admission of sins between Rinoba and me would take entirely too long, and no more wasting time discussing it. If Lady Alchendia wants me then she can take me, well after this adventure is complete and preferably in my sleep. Sister Dena, I most humbly and respectfully decline your offer and hope you will see fit to make your own preparations quietly, silently if possible, while we continue.”

  Dena nodded briefly with just a trace of a smile turning up her mouth as she moved to make the next jump upward. He also did not miss the fact that her lips were moving silently, but rapidly, as she gracefully landed above the two rogues.

  The remaining journey over the pillars of stone and the broken interior of the castle went without incident. They all sensed the ooze was somewhere closer than they wished but they had seen no signs of it. There were no discarded remnants of dead vermin at the upper inner level of the stronghold. In fact, the rodents seemed to have maintained their residence without issue at this level. All care and analyses of these things were swept away when the trio reached the Great Door that now stood before them. Both Rinoba and Boremac were familiar with sketches of the massive iron door due to their separate tutoring, Boremac with George and Rinoba with the teachers that were a facet of his station. The drawings Boremac had seen of the massive entrance did not do the intricate carvings and layers of precious metal woven into them justice. Gold, silver and even platinum interlaced across almost every bare surface of the door creating images of war that were on the scale of a battle between Gods and their minions. Dragons were armored with heavy plates of precious metal and studded with gems, great swords emanating lightening were brandished by facing Gods with shields almost as tall as the doors themselves. These deities were scarred and muscular, as if all they knew was war and relished every battle against their immortal foes. Even the engines of war were present and stylized similarly to the combatants portrayed. The ballistae at the base of the scene facing one another from opposite sides were loaded with javelins the size of elder oaks, the shafts made of bronze with the giant tips gilded in platinum. The only thing that appeared slightly out of place on the doors were the hubs at the wheels of each ballista. Simple bronze covers roughly the size of a fist appeared to have a latch at the top, an easily accessible affair that would readily release at anyone’s touch. Boremac was intrigued.

  “The King’s throne room.” When Boremac said it, a certain amount of reverence crept into his voice. “It appears the locking mechanism would be at the hub of the ballistae wheels. Should be simple enough to open. Dena, why bring two thieves here? Just open one, then the other, and in you go. Watch.”

  Boremac moved quickly to the closer of the two hubs, more than happy to demonstrate the foolishness of so much wasted effort, not to mention risking his hide in the process. He found his impulsive behavior rewarded immediately as he pressed the small lever down at top of the bronze wheel hub. Dena shoved him harder than he would have thought possible, carrying them both away from the very front of the door as a massive spear drove itself into the stone floor where he had just stood. The force of the impact held it steady in the ground for a moment before it toppled over on its side, its tip bent almost in half.

  “That would have been unpleasant.” Boremac stared intently at the spear as he spoke.

  “More than you know, rogue. The spears are poisoned. I strongly recommend you trust me on this. My resident alchemist confirmed that the poison is a paralytic, although I cannot imagine why the King felt the need to devise a trap using such a poison. It seems cruel, even for what I know of him. Probably intended to catch spies, if the spears did not kill them outright, so that they could be properly interrogated. That man was a nasty beast. He was treacherous well beyond anyone’s imagining, I think. It makes you wonder what could make a person so cruel.”

  Boremac answered with a single word. “Power.” He shook his head. “That is why the lands no longer have Kings. He could not outrun death but at least he managed one good thing as a result of his reign.”

  Rinoba nodded curtly in agreement with Boremac’s estimation. “Dena and I had spoken before making plans for this mutually beneficial journey, although Dena was not entirely forthcoming about our unwanted companion.” He glanced briefly at Dena, and although there was a sly smile on his face, there was no mirth in his eyes. He was deadly serious as he continued speaking directly to Boremac again. “We need to open both the covers at the same time and, with very careful hands, manage our way through the complex tumbler locks the plates cover. We will probably want to free the locks at the same time to avoid any further… unpleasantness. I am certain any other traps that are set off by the improper release of the locks would be much more deadly.”

  “That makes sense.” Boremac finished dusting himself off and removed his lock picks from a leather pouch at his waist, opening the soft leather flaps of their case and spreading the tools at his feet underneath the cover plate on his door. “The King would have certainly been more cautious in dealing with potential assassins or thieves who made it past his spear trap. Most heists are planned around information gathered from rumors and assumptions, after all. The good of this is that between the two of us, there should be little trouble opening the locks simultaneously. I trust you did not lose your tools when you fell.” Boremac’s sly smile did reach his eyes with the dig at Rinoba.

  “I am ready to proceed when you are, old friend.” Rinoba stated flatly.

  Boremac nodded
to the Death Bringer. “Good. Dena, please do us the honor of calling the mark so we can open the plates together.” He could only hope the sister would not have to live up to her order’s name, at least not yet.

  Dena nodded and gave a count. “Three, two, one and mark.”

  Both plates fell open on hidden hinges. The two thieves dodged reflexively to opposite sides of the door, neither quite trusting the other, but no spears struck the stone floor before the door this time. Boremac was starting to feel like they might really pull this off after all.

  A quick examination of both locking mechanisms identified that there were slight differences in the apertures, which indicated the’key’ to each would be different as well. Boremac hoped that the trigger for mishandling the locks would not be set off while they were working. There was no point in fretting about it. If the worst should happen, he would be dead anyway. His soul had a shot at properly making its way with the sister present, at least. Still he did not enjoy the half dozen images of ways to die horribly that ran through his head while he rubbed his hands together, warming to the task.

  Rinoba spoke to their shared thoughts, including their fears after a fashion. “Alchendia willing, we won’t trigger the trap unless fail to open the locks simultaneously. Once more Rinoba turned to Dena briefly, this time a smile lit his eyes as he spoke. “If you want to give voice to a plea with the God of Light, I am certain Boremac and I would not mind holding up the next step.”

  Dena acknowledged his plea with a nod and proceeded with a brief prayer that Boremac was certain was not found in any of the many clerical tomes. “Blessed God of Light, bringer of the Sun, Savior of those that suffered the will of the Unnamed One so long ago, I ask you humbly to allow these servants to grace your lands another day. Give them luck and favor to accomplish this task I have set to honor the dead here, and do not allow us to join the restless spirits we seek to aid. They are doubtless unworthy of your grace, but let this be the first step in their atonement. Bless.” The upward turning of her lips as she nodded to each of the rogues did in fact reach her eyes. “Well, gentlemen, I think that is all I can do for you. I hope Alchendia smiles on you both.”

  Boremac and Rinoba grinned at one another like the boys they had so recently still been in simpler times. No words were shared between them. No more seemed to be necessary. Rinoba sketched out the straightforward procedure they would follow. He instructed Dena to give another count for the release of the locks once she noted both Rinoba and Boremac had stopped fiddling with the mechanisms. The pair of thieves were going to have their hands full with the locks, judging from what they could see. A nod from one to the other was the signal to start working. Boremac and Rinoba each set to their task carefully however, Dena noted as she watched them, the two seemed to be competing even with the dire consequences of the contest they worked to win. She had little experience with rogues, and none with professional ones, and she had to assume they were all like this. This was somewhat true. Boremac and Rinoba each challenged themselves to master the locks before them for two reasons: the first, and most obvious, was that thinking of it a game relaxed them to perform the task at hand more readily but the second, and by far more important reason to these two, was that one just could not stand to be outdone by the other.

  Each second seemed to last forever to Dena as she alternated between watching the two rogues and scanning the surroundings for the ooze. Her staff was lit as brightly as possible without it interfering with the thieves’ work. The beautiful bas-relief adorning the massive doors reflected much of the shimmering light of her staff which should have aided her constant scrutiny of the area, and likely paths to their location but just the opposite was true. Ghostly shimmers reflected everywhere she looked, causing her to jump at shadow images and making any positive identification of the source of the reflections next to impossible. She did not bother hiding her relief when she turned back to Rinoba and Boremac, noting they were both tapping their boots. Their faces were shaded with annoyance, she assumed because there was no witness to the winner of their contest.

  Dena did not pause to reflect any further. “Well, this is what I needed you two for so I guess we might as well see if it works.” Boremac and Rinoba turned back to the locking mechanisms, awaiting her signal to open the locks. “Three, two, one… mark!”

  Boremac and Rinoba turned the locks on the mark and quickly stepped away from the doors as a loud rumbling noise started. The platform before the doors shook as what Boremac assumed was a hidden pulley system went to work. The two doors, which were well beyond the strength of many, began to open slowly. There was a shallow channel that ran beneath the entry doors that had rollers as well as some kind of thick guide rods keeping them on track as they slid into pockets at either side. The trio was hypnotized by the parting of the doors, captured with thoughts of what labors had to have been committed to creating such a marvelous system. One could not help being awed by the brilliance of the engineers that had created this work of art in both form and function. It was the ultimate protection the King could have hoped to have.

  Dena spoke first, breaking the silence after the doors settled into their respective compartments. “That was impressive. I had read stories of the King’s throne room during preparations for this journey but nothing could have prepared me to actually see this. The craftsmen that built this were well beyond their time.”

  “Yes,” said Rinoba, “they were no doubt executed shortly after completing their legacy. The King would not have wanted anyone knowing how this worked and now it appears no one ever will.”

  Boremac spoke before Dena or Rinoba had a chance to continue. “Indeed. All that is very sad but I suggest we get what we came here for and leave with haste. I do not think I need to remind you that there is a denizen of these walls that would appreciate having us for dinner.” Boremac stepped three steps into the throne room and was forced to stop. He was surrounded by artwork, statues and paintings of immeasurable value that had to be original works of the master artisans of the age. Boremac found he could identify some of the work due to his studies with George and drawing on the memories of sketches in art books. This was not the same as seeing the works in person, not at all. He wished he had time to commit each to memory, or better yet figure out a way to get these treasures out of here. Alchendia seemed to be enjoying herself at his expense yet again. Sometimes he wished his patron Goddess did not have such a wicked sense of humor.

  Boremac noticed with some alarm that Dena and Rinoba had passed him at some point while he was dazed, already making their way toward the throne perched high upon a dais formed of solid gold with steps leading to the throne itself. The long dead King sat on his ornate throne, appearing for all purposes to be ready to hold court, except for the fact that his crown sat upon a bare skull. His copious robes hung loosely, exposing only skeletal hands covered with rings made of various metals and adorned with a variety of precious gems, which even now still appeared to grip the velvet padded armrests until the padding where the fingertips rested was torn. Bone tipped fingers were still wedged deeply into the woven material, poking out of the pads when the King had gripped the throne, plummeting from the upper sections of the castle.

  Dena made it to the top of the dais well before Rinoba, much to Boremac’s surprise. He could only assume this was due to some measure of respect for the sister’s station and duties. His error in this assumption was quickly corrected when Rinoba, addressing Dena as she examined the dead King, voiced a request. “Blessed sister, I know our initial agreement did not include removing anything but the King’s crown as my payment for aid. I would plea the logic of this contract as flawed when the King’s rings and royal seal are so easily acquired as well, for historians to catalog of course, with the artifacts to be delivered to the Guild for protection once they have been entered into record. You can certainly see the wisdom of my thoughts.”

  Dena removed a quill and scroll from her backpack and did not even bother turning away from the corpse
as she replied. “Fair Prince, it would appear the touch of the God of Light has indeed granted insight. You know from our discussion when penning the contract you refer to why this cannot be done. The coveted crown will be removed as promised and you two will be allowed to deliver it to your father. The historians will have to satisfy themselves with what they can learn from it and my notes. Open proof of the treasures that were buried with the King remain here forever. The fact that archeologists and thieves alike have not returned from their ventures within this place should serve as warning enough. The creature shall be known well enough to weigh against any more plans to come within this fallen stronghold.”