Quest's End: The Broken Key #3

by Brian S. Pratt

  At mention of the Duke, Elle and Kaitlyn grew fearful. They didn’t want the Duke to know their sons may have recovered treasure without giving him his share. Raestin understood their misgivings. “We have no choice,” he said to the women. “He’s going to know soon enough.”

  “But…” stammered Elle.

  “Things seem to be getting out of control,” argued Raestin. “Your Magistrate may have already sent to Wardean for help.”

  Just then the mill’s door opened and Sterret stuck his head in and said “Sir?”

  Raestin turned toward the door and saw the crowd gathering in the street on the other side. He could make out a couple of the men who had accosted the woman the night before among them. To Paul he said, “Go see what’s going on.”

  Nodding in reply, Paul said, “Yes sir,” as he headed for the door.

  “What’s happening?” Elle asked in a voice tinged with fear.

  “Trouble,” replied her husband.

  A score of men were gathered twenty feet from the doorway, three had bows. None were townsfolk. As Paul emerged from the mill, he quickly ascertained that the mood of the men was not good. Cailin had his crossbow out and aimed at the men. Paul came behind him and laid his hand on his young protégé’s shoulder. “Easy,” he said.

  Addressing the men, he shouted “What’s the meaning of this?”

  A man in his early thirties stood a step before the others. Six feet tall and with the look of a hard life behind him, he asked, “Who are you?”

  “Name’s Paul,” he replied. “And you are?”

  “Slyvern,” came the reply. He said it as if Paul should recognize the name.

  “What business do you have here?” asked Paul.

  “All we want is for them inside to tell us what they know of the Horde’s location,” he stated.

  “They know nothing,” Paul stated. “The first they heard of this was when people like you started pestering them about it.”

  “Lies!” shouted Slyvern. A mumble of agreement rolled through those standing behind him.

  “There is nothing of what you seek here,” Paul stated. “Leave.”

  “Who do you think you are?” demanded Slyvern. A wild look came to his eyes as anger filled him. “We’re going to find out what we want to know, one way or another!” He took a step forward.

  “Stop!” Paul said. Beside him, the sound of Sterret’s sword leaving its scabbard could be heard.

  The man halted. “Stand aside or die!”

  To Cailin, loud enough for all to hear, Paul said, “If he takes another step, kill him.”

  “Yes sir,” replied Cailin. Moving his crossbow ever so slightly, he drew aim on Slythern’s chest. Two of the men with bows drew a bead on Cailin while the third targeted Paul.

  “You are out numbered,” Slyvern said with a crooked grin. “Stand aside.”

  A quiet fell over the two groups as each gauged the reaction of the other.

  On the second floor of The Sterling Sheep, Daniel looked out his window toward the impending confrontation.

  “Slyvern’s really got them stirred up,” commented Tox. Tox had been Daniel’s man now for the greater part of a decade. He was loyal and stalwart, rare commodities in their line of work.

  “That’s what he’s getting paid to do,” replied Daniel. Then motion caught his eye as the Magistrate appeared leading a dozen locals, all but three carrying bows. They were moving to the growing altercation with great speed. “Looks like things aren’t going to get out of hand after all.”

  “No it doesn’t,” agreed Tox.

  They watched as the Magistrate reached the two groups. “Now, if only…”

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  Daniel turned to Tox. “See who it is.”

  Crossing the room, Tox was soon at the door and opened it a crack. When he saw who was on the other side, he opened the door wider and in walked Rupert.

  “My father is sending me to Warden to ask the Duke for aid,” he announced.

  “Good,” replied Daniel. “I was hoping he would. Some rather bad sorts are making their way to your quiet village.” He paused a moment then asked, “When are you to leave?”

  “Immediately,” he replied. “He wants me to return as soon as possible with help before things get completely out of hand.”

  “It may take longer than you think,” advised Daniel. “You’ll have to convince them such intervention by the Duke’s men is warranted. And that could take time.”

  Rupert reached into his pocket and produced a scroll. “I have a letter signed by my father explaining the situation,” he replied. “That should expedite things.”

  “Again, maybe not,” countered Daniel. “Unless you can convince the right person, aid may be days in coming.”

  “But my father is counting on me to return quickly,” Rupert told him.

  “Perhaps I can be of help,” Daniel said.

  “How?” asked Rupert.

  “I know a man in the Duke’s guard who might be able to speed things up dramatically,” he replied. “I could supply you with a letter asking him to expedite things for you.”

  Rupert nodded. “You would do that for me?” he asked.

  “Of course,” replied Daniel magnanimously. Moving across to the room’s only table, he picked up a small, rolled scroll secured with a leather thong sealed with wax. Turning back to Rupert, he handed it over and said, “Here.” When Rupert took it, he could see the question in his eyes. “When I saw the commotion developing by the mill, I thought your father might send for help. So I prepared the letter just in case.”

  Rupert took the letter. “Thank you,” he said.

  “Not at all,” replied Daniel. “Always glad to be of help. Now make sure you speak with Captain Glaver before you talk with anyone else.”

  “Where can I find him?” asked Rupert.

  “Ask around at the keep,” Daniel replied.

  Tucking the scroll into his belt pouch, he said, “Thank you again.”

  Daniel patted him on the back with a grin and escorted him to the door. “Be careful on the road,” he advised.

  “I will,” Rupert replied.

  Tox opened the door for him and Rupert passed through on his way to the stairs. Once the door was shut and the sound of Rupert’s footsteps could no longer be heard, Tox asked, “Think Glaver will come?”

  “Yes,” affirmed Daniel. “He and his boys owe me a favor.” Returning to the window, he saw that the situation before the mill had been diffused without bloodshed. Slyvern and his group were dispersing, and the Magistrate was speaking with those at the mill.

  “What are we going to do if Duke Alric actually sends troops this way?” asked Tox.

  Daniel turned to his man and said, “That would definitely complicate things. But once Glaver gets here, the situation is going to quiet down dramatically. There will be no need for any additional help.”

  “Then when the shepherd arrives…?” asked Tox.

  Giving his man a grin, he said, “It’ll be too late.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  __________________________

  “Where does everything go that’s collected down here?” Bart asked. He stood with fists on hips as he glared at the three bound men.

  Once they had discovered the segment gone, they wasted no time in returning to where they left the three porters.

  The three men stared mutely at Bart as they trembled in fear. One of them shook his head.

  “Once they are at the top of the cliff,” Riyan asked, “where do the crates go next?”

  “We don’t know,” one man replied.

  “That’s right,” stated another. “The crates are loaded on wagons and taken away. They never told us where.”

  The third man nodded vehemently in agreement.

  “I think you’re lying to me,” Bart said. Pulling his knife, he moved toward them.

  “We’re not!” wailed one of the men.

  “Haven’t we already helped you?”
another asked.

  “Wait,” Riyan said to Bart.

  Bart glanced back toward him questioningly.

  Ignoring Bart, Riyan looked to the bound men sitting against the wall before him. “Do you know who began all this?” he asked, gesturing to the passage around him.

  The three men looked at him confused.

  “What I mean is,” Riyan said, “who is the man ultimately in charge of everything going on down here? Is it this Pruss you’ve mentioned?”

  “Hardly,” one man stated. “He’s not but an overseer.”

  “He answers to Lord Glynni,” another added.

  “Glynni?” asked Riyan.

  “He’s up at the top of the steps,” the first one replied. “But you don’t want to go messing with him.”

  “Why?” asked Bart.

  “He’s the half brother of Lord Kueryn and has a rather nasty temper,” explained another.

  “Lord Kueryn?” asked Bart. The name was somewhat familiar.

  Riyan glanced to him and nodded. “The River Man.”

  “Then that means he has…” started Chad before Bart interrupted him by loudly saying, “Yes. Exactly.”

  Bart met Chad’s eyes then indicated with a nod of his head the three men sitting against the wall, and that they were listening. The others understood the implications of what the man had said as well.

  “That’s what we needed to know,” Riyan said to Bart.

  Nodding, Bart replied, “Indeed.”

  “Then we better get out of here,” Chyfe said. “It’s only a matter of time before Seth and Soth are discovered.”

  “Right,” Riyan said. Turning to the three men, he asked, “If we leave you alive, will you swear to keep your mouths shut about us being down here?”

  All three men nodded vigorously. “Yes.” said one. “We swear!” said another.

  “Alright then,” Riyan said.

  “You can’t be serious,” argued Chyfe. “They’ll tell all they know as soon as someone finds them.”

  “No,” professed one man. “We will keep silent.”

  Chyfe drew his knife and advanced on the men. “I don’t think we can afford to take that chance,” he said.

  “I agree,” said Bart.

  “But I gave them my word,” argued Riyan.

  Bart met his friend’s gaze for a moment then nodded. “So you did.” He glanced to Chyfe and shook his head.

  Chyfe was less than pleased about leaving the men alive. Slamming his knife back into its scabbard, he mumbled an expletive under his breath and shook his head.

  “Come on,” Bart said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Riyan glanced to the men and said, “I’m sure you’ll be discovered before too much longer.”

  “Thank you,” one of the men said.

  “We’re not murderers,” Riyan assured him. Then he turned and joined the others as they headed back to the surface.

  About the time they were passing through an area lit by one of the burning torches, Chad asked, “Bart, where’s your pack?”

  “My pack?” Bart asked. Coming to a stop he cursed, “Damn! I must have left it somewhere back there.” Gazing down the passage, he said, “My picks were inside.”

  “You want us to go back with you?” asked Kevik.

  Bart shook his head. “No, you go on ahead. I’ll catch up,” he said. “Get to the surface and see what’s going on. We still have to figure a way out of here.”

  “Alright,” Riyan said. “Be careful.”

  Reaching up, Bart removed the torch burning in the sconce and started heading back through the passage. Walking quickly, he was soon back to where they had left the three bound men. Behind him, the light from Kevik’s staff could no longer be seen.

  The three men looked in fear as they saw him approach. He had left his pack leaning against the wall on the other side of the passage from the three men. But it wasn’t there now. One of the porters had his foot hooked in a strap and was dragging it closer.

  “Now, now,” Bart said as he came forward to reclaim his pack. “None of that.” Once he had it slung back across his back, he pulled his knife.

  The three men gasped when they saw the naked blade. “You promised!” one man wailed.

  “Nothing personal,” he said. “But I don’t have as trusting a nature as my friend does. You would rat us out the moment you were found. And we can’t have that.”

  “No!” screamed a man as he came closer. Then with three quick strikes, he silenced their cries for good. After wiping the blood coating his blade off onto the pant leg of one of the dead men, he stood up and returned it to the scabbard. Moving out with pack once again on his back, he hurried to catch up with Riyan and the others.

  Bart caught up with the others just as they were reaching the surface. Dusk was not far off. “Kevik,” Bart said, indicating where the bowl full of mixture still sat.” Let’s see what’s going on up on the cliff.” Then to Chad and Chyfe he said, “Find Seth and Soth and see what the situation is.”

  “Okay,” replied Chad. Then he and Chyfe moved from the mine entrance and headed for the camp.

  From their position, they could see Seth moving among the tents, Soth was nowhere in sight. As Kevik prepared to cast his far seeing spell, Riyan commented, “So, the River Man has the last segment.”

  “So it would seem,” Bart replied.

  “That makes this all a bit more complicated,” stated Riyan.

  Bart grinned and nodded. “A little.”

  “How are we to get it now?” he asked.

  “One thing at a time,” said Bart. “Once we’re out of this canyon and past the stockade, then we’ll worry about how to acquire the segment.”

  “Any thoughts on how we are to do that?” Riyan asked.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  At the camp, Chad and Chyfe had met up with Seth and after a moment’s discussion, Seth began heading for the mine entrance.

  Kevik calmed his mind. Then, concentrating on the stockade at the top of the cliff, he cast the spell. Beside him Riyan watched as the image appeared.

  Four wagons filled with crates stood in line just within the stockade’s gate. A fifth was only half filled and waited near the canyon’s lip at the top of the steps. Two crates were being lifted onto the fifth wagon’s bed. Once they were in place, the two men who had placed them there walked to the steps and began descending to the bottom.

  The rest of the stockade looked pretty much as it had before. Seth and Soth must have done a good job in fooling the porters in believing everything was alright. But how much longer would that last? With the setting of the sun imminent, there could be a change of watch. Definitely the men who were deep in the mine would be coming out for food and rest. Bart felt that time was quickly running out.

  “There doesn’t appear to be any increase in the number of men,” announced Kevik.

  Bart glanced over to him and said, “See if you can determine how many are up there.”

  “I’ll try,” replied Kevik.

  When Seth finally joined them, he asked, “The key wasn’t there?”

  “No,” Riyan informed him. “We believe it may be in the possession of the River Man.”

  “That’s not good,” responded Seth.

  “Any trouble?” Bart asked him.

  “Not really,” he replied. “A couple of the men bound in the tents started regaining consciousness. But we made quick work of them.” Then he pointed to the center of the camp where the largest tent stood. “We put them all in there.”

  Riyan indicated the men on the steps coming down from the top. “What about them?” he asked.

  “Just hired porters,” he explained. “They come and go with the wagons.”

  Bart nodded as he gazed at the two nearing the bottom. “Take em out and put them with the others,” he told Seth. As Seth was about to leave, he added, “Make sure you do it so the other two near the top aren’t tipped off.”

  “You got it,” he replied. Hurryin
g off, he made his way back to the camp.

  “What do you have in mind?” Riyan asked.

  “Not sure yet,” admitted Bart. “But one thing’s for sure, we don’t want them on the steps transporting crates when we make our move.” Then he moved closer to Kevik and gazed at the image in the bowl.

  Kevik noticed him and said, “I’ve seen thirty armed men which may be guards of one kind or another. Another fifteen are civilians.”

  “Up the steps is the only way out of here if we don’t want to float down the river,” observed Bart. “And without a raft or boat, that isn’t a very viable option.”

  Down at the camp, Soth had appeared from the large tent wherein their captives were being held. He, Chad, and Chyfe were speaking together as they kept an eye on the men coming down the cliff. In short order, they were joined by Seth. Bart watched as they began moving into position to take out the porters descending the steps.

  “I think I may have an idea,” he said. Turning to Kevik, he added, “It’s going to depend heavily on your magical ability.”

  Kevik glanced up from the image in the bowl and met his eyes a moment before nodding. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’re going to have to move fast,” explained Bart. “Once the last porter is off the steps and taken, we go. Here’s the plan…”

  As he spelled it out, Kevik began nodding. “I think that might work,” he agreed, then sighed. He was growing rather tired. The exertions of the last few days were beginning to wear on him.

  “Good,” replied Bart. Glancing back to the camp, he saw that the first two porters had been dealt with and were being carried to the large tent. The remaining two on the cliff continued down, oblivious to what was transpiring at the bottom. To Riyan and Kevik he said, “Let’s go.”

  Wagon Master Coric was growing steadily impatient with the porters who had gone down to retrieve the last four crates he required before he could leave. They had yet to return. “I’ll skin them alive if they make me late,” he threatened.

  The driver of the wagon waiting for the crates just shook his head. Wagon Master Coric was always threatening about this or that. Rarely did he ever follow through on it. Those who had been with him longest knew it was just his way.