by B. J. Beach
Karryl and Miqhal exchanged a brief glance. The young mage felt the now familiar metallic frisson. Jaknu, Miqhal and bowman Buller vanished.
Palace guards, soldiers and magicians all stood in stunned silence, then Bardeen wandered over to Karryl. “How does he do that? I didn’t think selective transference was possible.”
As Vintar moved away talking earnestly to a shaken bowman Wyke, Karryl placed a hand on Bardeen’s shoulder. “Miqhal has powers beyond any we can imagine. All I can say is, I’m very glad he’s on our side.”
He gestured towards the dead grelfons; black, misshapen mounds, slowly being swallowed by the gathering dusk. “I think we’d better go and help Magnor and Agmar clean up the mess.”
18 - No Time for Games
Much to his disgust, Karryl was forced to spend the best part of the following morning sitting through the pompously inane ramblings of ministers summoned by a bevy of fleet-footed royal messengers to the council chamber. Some consolation came from the number of congratulations he, Agmar and Magnor received, and a citation for bowman Wyke in recognition of his averting what could so easily have been a disaster.
After a combined operation in which the grelfon corpses had been magically wrapped and disposed of out at sea, Bardeen had slipped quietly away. Karryl assumed he had returned to the house in Broad Street, which was where he himself really wanted to be. Instead he was stuck here, not adding anything of particular value, wearing a new robe which was making him itch. Twisting in his chair in an attempt to relieve the irritation without actually scratching, he caught Lady Evalin watching him, a twinkle of amusement in her deep blue eyes. With a slight grimace he shook his head, but her smile widened.
Leaning towards him, she kept her voice at a barely audible whisper. “Look up to the sill of the west window, slowly now.”
Settling back in his chair, Karryl rested his chin on the back of his linked hands as if paying attention to the minister who was speaking. At the same time he let his gaze wander across the room, up the hangings which concealed the cold grey stone of the west wall, to the row of small recessed windows at the top.
His impromptu grin was misconstrued, as the minister who had the floor grew indignant. “This is not funny, Master Karryl. A lot of time and thought has gone into my plan.”
Karryl fielded brilliantly. “Indeed, Minister Goodman. It was in appreciation of that very fact that I was smiling.”
Mollified, the Minister for Home Affairs and Guilds resumed his verbal monsoon. To his credit, King Vailin appeared to be totally fascinated, although Karryl thought his eyes did seem a little out of focus.
His own eyes fixed on Minister Goodman, Karryl focussed his mind on the west window. “What are you doing here Moonstone? I can only hope you’ve come to present me with a valid reason for taking my leave.”
The big tortoiseshell’s tone was unmistakeable. “I can count forty-one valid reasons from here, but yes, I have.”
Stifling a chortle, Karryl turned and raised a querying eyebrow at Lady Evalin. Gracefully she leaned over from her seat on Vailin’s right and murmured in his ear. He looked over at Karryl, seated to his left in Symon’s absence, and gave him two brief and barely perceptible nods. Smiling his thanks, Karryl stood and made his way to the rear of the dais, his progress followed by curious glances from Magnor and Agmar.
Just before he opened the door to the anteroom, Karryl turned. “Can you get out, Moonstone?”
The cat’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Not immediately, but it’s not a problem. Miqhal is waiting at the house. I think he needs rescuing from Bardeen.”
Curious as to why the Jadhra had returned so soon, Karryl thanked Moonstone, bowed to King and company, and made his way out of the palace, politely dismissing the two bodyguards who had stepped forward to escort him.
Deciding to let Miqhal endure Bardeen a little longer, Karryl took a short cut through the grounds and returned to the apartment he shared with Symon in the North wing of the palace. Having hurriedly divested himself of the itchy robe, he washed and changed into the comfort of trousers, tunic and jerkin then prepared and ate a light lunch. After checking that everything was tidy in case Symon should return unexpectedly, he replaced the wards on the doors then transported himself to Bardeen’s kitchen. To his surprise, a glamour of ancient wall and cracked, peeling paint covered the pantry door. He took a moment to examine it, intrigued by its close similarity to the one he had placed just before Miqhal first arrived. If Bardeen cast it, then only he could shed it. Karryl left the kitchen and headed for the front room in search of the magician. Going by Moonstone’s message, he knew he would also find Miqhal.
He grinned as he saw what they were doing. Bardeen was sitting cross-legged on a cushion facing Miqhal, a long wooden tray on the floor between them. The old magician looked up and winked at Karryl, not speaking until Miqhal had chosen, and made his moves.
Clicking his tongue in mock disgust, Bardeen gestured towards the tray. “Only two hours ago I started to teach him battle-stones. He’s just beaten me.”
Karryl leaned forward and studied the complex arrangement of curiously marked and coloured triangles and squares. “So I see. In two hours? That’s impressive.”
Miqhal looked up. “It is a most challenging and enjoyable game. It requires awareness and understanding of the opponent’s thoughts and the ability to anticipate his strategy. Such skills are essential to our way of life. But, there is no more time for games. Vital hours have already been taken from us.”
As Miqhal rose effortlessly to his feet, Karryl asked him the question that had remained uppermost in his mind since yesterday’s mayhem. “Why didn’t the grelfons spit that evil black fluid of theirs?”
Miqhal looked askance and made a bitter grimace. “They were ordered not to. The purpose of their attack was to take prisoners, with you as the prime target.”
Karryl swallowed hard, thought for a long moment then changed the subject. “What happened to bowman Buller?”
The Jadhra’s glance was cold as a desert night. “He is with my people, under guard. It is now his daily duty to care for Jaknu. He must prepare his food and clean his compound. The women will watch him. If he shirks or causes Jaknu to be harmed or distressed, he will be punished.” His grin was mirthless. “Some of our punishments are quite exquisite.”
Karryl stared, aghast. “You can’t do that! He’s a soldier of King Vailin’s army!”
Miqhal seemed unrepentant. “He should have thought of that when he attempted to kill Jaknu or myself. He was I believe, disobeying an order.”
The Jadhra warrior began to follow Bardeen out of the room. “Fear not. He will be returned shortly. Perhaps then he will receive further punishment as your king sees fit.”
As Karryl followed him into the kitchen Miqhal turned, his dark eyes sparkling with derision. “Your king’s warrior is weak. The first thing he did when we arrived was empty his stomach.”
Karryl gave him a wry smile. “I’m not surprised. They’re not trained for that sort of thing. Just let us have him back in one piece and alive.”
Miqhal grinned, his teeth white against his nut-brown skin. “The first I will guarantee. The second depends on the man himself. Now; enough of him. We have more important things to occupy our minds.”
Bardeen nodded his agreement and crossed to the englamoured wall and passed his hands over the chipped bricks and flaking paint. They shimmered away, revealing once more the brass embellished wooden door. Bardeen pulled it open.
With a bow and a flourish he indicated the pantry. “Your tunnel awaits.”
Eyes gleaming with anticipation, Miqhal stepped forward. “All that remains now is to retrieve the Navigator?”
Karryl shook his head. “I wish it were that simple, but no. According to the riddle, I have to find some writing somewhere down there, then some bones which we believe may be Keril’s and…”
Miqhal interrupted. “Who is Keril?”
Karryl stared down the steppe
d shaft which gave access to the tunnel. “Keril was the one who is responsible for all this; the first Mage-Prime who ensured the safety and survival of the artefacts.”
Miqhal gave a slow nod of understanding. “The one we only know as ‘The Keeper’.”
With a wry grin Karryl looked back over his shoulder. “It’s just as well. I think you might have a little trouble with his full name, but I’ll tell you that later.”
As Karryl started down the steps of the shaft, Miqhal spoke from above him. “I have placed a warding over the entrance. You will not find it difficult.”
Raising a hand in acknowledgement, Karryl carried on down. The dark-sight spell completed as he reached the bottom step.
19 - A Last Resting Place
The stubs of the burned out candles glowed whitely in front of him. Pausing for a moment he stretched forward to ease crawl-cramped muscles. As he sat back on his heels he felt something brush against his thigh.
Moonstone wandered past to sit down in front of him. “Well, here we are again. Are you still looking for the writing?”
Appreciating the amazing cat’s warm and friendly company, Karryl reached out and gently rubbed its soft, dark-tinted ears. “I think we ought to, rather than just go barging on ahead. It must have some bearing on how we proceed; otherwise Keril wouldn’t have put it in the riddle.”
The big tortoiseshell seemed to be thinking, then stood up and faced down the tunnel. “I will go on ahead. It may be further along than you thought.”
Before Karryl could reply, Moonstone was trotting away, tail held high, his mismatched eyes peering from side to side. Eventually he became little more than an amorphous, lilac tinted glow in the distance. After stretching each limb as much as the confines of the tunnel would allow, Karryl renewed the inconveniently limited dark-sight spell and resumed his crawl.
About five paces beyond the point which the lattice ward had once occupied, he stopped again as Moonstone came bounding back. “I can see writing.”
Without thinking, Karryl asked “What does it say?”
The cat opened its mouth wide to reveal white needle-sharp teeth. The mellow tones of feline laughter rippled into Karryl’s mind. “I told you before; I only know what writing looks like. Who ever heard of a cat that can read? Come on, I’ll show you.”
All set to follow, Karryl checked as the cat failed to move. Instead it looked gravely up into his face, its ears flicking with concern. “I’ve also found something else.”
Once again, Karryl sat back on his heels. Folding his arms, he looked down at his furry companion. “I know. There’s a skeleton back there, probably Keril’s.”
Moonstone slowly turned his head, looked behind him, then back up at Karryl. “Not exactly. I think you’re in for a surprise.”
His thick tail held stiffly in line with his back, Moonstone led Karryl a little way along the tunnel and stopped. The cat gazed at a section of the wall just above his own eye level. “There. Can you see it?”
Hunching over and resting on his forearms, Karryl peered at the wall. He could see nothing. He shuffled a little closer, twisting his body round in an attempt to follow the cat’s line of sight. Turning his head, he brought his face level with Moonstone’s. Still he could see nothing but smooth, dark grey granite.
His words came out in a strangled croak. “I can’t see anything!”
Moonstone sat down and wrapped his tail round his four paws. “Then I think we have a problem. I can see four lines of writing quite clearly.”
Karryl lowered his head and rested it on the backs of his hands. Voice muffled by his arms he thought out loud. “The riddle says ‘dark-sighted eyes will see’. I’m using dark-sight, so why can’t I see it?”
“Erm…I don’t mean to criticise but…perhaps you’re looking at it the wrong way.”
Karryl raised his head slightly and gave the cat a flat look. “There’s not really enough room for me to stand on my head.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that you go to such extremes. It’s just that I didn’t see it until I had gone past it.”
Karryl knelt upright and stared at Moonstone. “I beg your pardon. How can you see something when you’ve already gone past…it. Hang on; I think I know what you mean!”
After shuffling back a little, Karryl resumed crawling at his normal pace, eyes straight ahead until he was passing the spot where Moonstone said he could see the writing. Glowing silvery lilac in his peripheral vision, words suddenly appeared on the tunnel’s granite wall. Karryl smiled to himself as he picked them out one by one and locked them into his memory.
He gathered up Moonstone from the floor, held him up and looked into the mismatched and intelligent eyes. “You truly are an amazing cat.”
Moonstone squirmed. “Thank you for the compliment, but would you mind putting me down? I feel a little uncomfortable and rather silly like this.”
Karryl placed the big tortoiseshell gently on the floor. “I think we’ll stay here for a few minutes while I think about this verse that Keril left. It seems quite intriguing.”
Cancelling the dark-sight spell, Karryl took Miqhal’s torch from the pocket of his jerkin, shook it vigorously and shone the narrow beam into the tunnel ahead. The bright blue light bounced back off a wall of solid stone. Neither willing nor able to believe it was the dead end it appeared to be, he swept the beam over the walls on both sides. A low sigh of relief escaped his lips. The dark and angled shadow at the end of the beam told him the tunnel cut sharply to the right.
Karryl gestured towards it. “Is that the surprise you thought I was in for?”
Moonstone’s eyes glinted like jewels in the torchlight. “Indeed no. You will see when you go in there.”
Despite his eagerness to investigate, Karryl relaxed, sat back on his heels and carefully went over in his mind the words he had memorised from the wall.
Once read aloud what’s writ will fade
And tell not why these bones are laid
The reason still close to my heart
Alone it knows the final part
Even with what he knew so far, the words hardly made sense, although the first line seemed to be self explanatory.
Moonstone sauntered back and placed his front paws on Karryl’s knee. “So, what has the writing told you?”
The Mage-Prime shook his head. “Not a lot, but I think that if I tell you the words, something vital is somehow going to be lost. It all seems a bit sentimental, but that’s only a first impression. Perhaps it’ll become clearer when I finally set eyes on the bones. Now are you going to tell me why I’ll be surprised?”
Moonstone flicked an ear and stalked off down the remaining short length of tunnel. “If I did that, it wouldn’t be a surprise would it?”
Karryl chuckled and crawled off after him. Negotiating the right angle into the next section proved a little tricky. With a few helpful cat hints as to the best way to move his body, he made it round, only to experience the unexpected and unpleasant sensation of crawling smack into another warding. Staring at the apparently empty space he edged back, slightly disgruntled and trying hard to ignore the dark and disturbingly recognisable shape which lay just beyond the circle of the torch beam.
He looked down at Moonstone who was sat quietly watching. “There’s been no mention of that one unless I missed it somewhere. Let’s hope it’s a basic one.”
Quickly he explored the threads of the warding. Eyes wide with disbelief he sank back on his heels and folded his arms. In front of him lay something he had never come across before, had never learned, and had never read of in all his studies.
The big tortoiseshell moved to sit close beside him. “I take it there’s a problem?”
Holding his hands against his face, Karryl nodded. “I’m going to have to give this some thought. Let’s just hope there’s a simple answer.”
“It’s not a basic one then?”
Karryl groaned. “From the other side it might be. From here the blasted thing is back to front.
I wonder how…”
Realisation hit him like a hammer blow. For a long moment he stared into the gloom beyond. With a muted wail, he hunched over, his head almost on his knees. Hands pressed flat on the tunnel’s comfortless floor the young Mage-Prime sobbed long and bitterly. It was only when Moonstone’s velvety paw dabbed gently at his cheek that he lifted his head.
The cat sniffed delicately at Karryl’s face. “Do you need help?”
Wiping the sleeve of his tunic across his eyes, Karryl forced a smile as he looked down at the solicitous feline. “I think Bardeen may have the answer to this, but I don’t think he can catch thoughts.”
The cat made to move away. “I will ask Miqhal to fetch him for you.”
Karryl reached out and pulled Moonstone gently back. “I’ll try calling Miqhal myself first. If that doesn’t work, then you can go. If it does work, you may not want to listen to what I’m going to tell him.”
Moonstone blinked slowly. “I have already seen.”
Karryl rubbed a finger under the furry chin. “Yes, but did you understand?” Shuffling awkwardly back into the main tunnel, Karryl threw out his thought to Miqhal.
To his great relief the response was almost immediate. “I sense your distress, but it is not necessary to shout. What have you found?”
Karryl took a deep breath. “I’m fairly certain I’ve found Keril’s…remains. The trouble is he’s placed a protective warding in front of them.”
Miqhal’s tone was incredulous. “And you have difficulty with this?”
Karryl sighed. “Under normal circumstances, no. But this one’s different. It’s inverted. Keril placed it from his side then stayed there, between the warding and the navigator. It looks to me as though he…willed himself to death after he’d got it safe. The thing is, I’ve never come across any references to inverted wardings, and I’ve no idea how to remove it.”
There was a lengthy silence, and Karryl began to wonder whether Miqhal was making his way along the tunnel. His train of thought was broken by two words. “Bardeen knows.”