"Have you picked that lock yet?" Solveig asked impatiently.
"I haven't even started," Sir George answered as he consulted his tools.
The lock was massive but fairly simple, as if the Academy's occupants were more concerned that it might be forced by brute strength rather than foiled through stealth. Sir George could have had it open at once with a simple spell, but he remained concerned that the Fire Wizards had placed wards to resist or at least detect the use of magic against their doors and raise an alarm. None of his lock-picking tools seemed sturdy enough for this massive piece of iron.
"Half a moment."
Sir George quickly removed the hook he had been wearing on his left cuff and handed it to Solveig, who seemed rather nonplussed to discover what she was holding. He reached inside his jacket, feeling for the small pockets that lined the inside, and brought out a small pike, bearing a short, wicked-looking hook with a narrow blade above it. He locked this in place on his cuff, then slipped the point of the blade inside the keyhole and made a couple of complicated turns. The lock snapped open without further protest.
"It pays to use the proper tools," he told Solveig, taking back his hook and reattaching it to his cuff.
Sir George brought out a pair of small magical lanterns, which he cautiously encouraged into giving out a, faint glow, and they descended the long, low ramp into the cellar. He handed one of the lanterns to Solveig, and together they looked around, finding themselves surrounded by sacks of flour and bins filled to overflowing with potatoes. Onions tied together by their stems hung in great clusters from the ceiling. The cellar was fairly large, but at least it wasn't closed off from the other passages beneath the Academy. A heavy wooden door at either end led onward, both north and south. The doors were unlocked, although Sir George was careful not to open them until he had tested each for traps.
As they made their way deeper into the bowels of the Academy, they discovered that the underground level was a hive of neatly laid passages and chambers, all set between walls made of massive blocks of stone connecting the great pillars that bore the weight of the structure above. Even the floor was set with large stone blocks. The chambers obviously served as storerooms for the entire Academy. They were filled with discarded furnishings, all manner of magical apparatus, and trunks and racks stuffed with old clothes. There was even an area beneath the library with crates full of books, possibly duplicates, all carefully packed, and one chamber where old parchments and rags were kept for packing the covers and binding of new tomes.
Sir George didn't really expect to find a treasure such as the Collar of the Dragons on this level, which wasn't secure enough to protect something of such great value, nor did he find any container large enough to have held it. He was seeking hidden passages that would lead down to still lower levels or to hidden passages, trusting to his thief's ability to detect such things instinctively. He soon found what he needed in a dark corner of a dusty room. He gestured for Solveig to stand back, then cautiously approached a single large stone set in the floor.
When he held his lantern close, he saw that a small metal handle had been set into the stone itself, so that no part of the handle protruded above the level of the floor. When he examined the hidden door, he could detect only a trap so old that it was barely functioning. This only heightened his curiosity. It was as if the wizards felt they had no secrets
worth guarding.
"Stand back," he warned his companion. "Since the Flaem are Fire Wizards, I have a pretty good idea what to expect."
Sir George caught the inset handle with his hook and, moving around cautiously well to one side of the trapdoor, heaved open the protesting stone. A great flash of flame shot out from the opening, curling around the stone and licking briefly at the ceiling. If the spell had been fresh, the flames might well have engulfed the chamber. But when he stepped around the stone to peer inside the opening, he found to his amazement that it had been filled completely with packed clay.
They found several more, six in all, of the hidden doors. In each case, the passage had been filled and tightly packed with clay, enclosed beneath a flagstone made to look like any other part of the floor. Sir George could appreciate hiding secret passages in that way, but at first he couldn't understand why they had all been filled in. Only when he had found the last of the sealed passages did he finally realize the problem.
The answer left him in such a bad mood that he had to sit down on a trunk and fume at his own foolishness, his chin in his hand. After a minute or so, he finally looked up at Solveig.
"They weren't able to open any secret passages or chambers below this level," he explained. "The river is on the other side of the east wall, and half the city has a tendency to convert back to a marsh as it is. It was all they could do just to keep this level dry and able to support the weight of the building. When they tried to open a few hidden storerooms, the passages would floor, and they had to seal them with clay to keep the water from flooding the cellar."
"Then we've wasted our time?" Solveig asked.
"More or less," Sir George agreed. "At least we can be reasonably certain that the collar isn't here."
"Then can I make a suggestion?" she inquired.
Sir George nodded. "By all means."
"Let's go home and go to bed."
*****
Both Thelvyn and Kharendaen were amused the next morning when they heard the story of the exploration of the dark places beneath the Academy over breakfast in Kharendaen's lair. Sir George was still rather disgruntled about the matter, although he was willing to admit that he hadn't really expected to find the collar in the first place he looked. Solveig had a complaint of her own, since the others tended to discuss their secrets in the language of the dragons, which she did not comprehend.
"It makes perfect sense," Kharendaen remarked. "The land between the juncture of two rivers is a bad place to build a city. The larger buildings actually float on the wet sand, much like the hulls of ships, and opening holes in the cellar would have the same effect as puncturing the hull of a ship."
"That's an interesting comparison," Thelvyn commented. "You could destroy large parts of Braejr by literally pulling the plug on the larger buildings. But it's not very relevant to our problem, I'm afraid. Where will you look next? Their old residence in Braastar?"
Sir George shook his head sullenly. "I don't see any point in continuing to poke about like common thieves in the hope that we happen across what we're seeking. I agree with Kharendaen that only a dragon could have stolen the collar, no matter who has it now. The renegades had a hand in this, and one of the renegade kings might still have it. Frankly, I have better, more reliable ways of getting information from that source than I have here."
"The renegades are dangerous and difficult to approach," Kharendaen cautioned. "Do you propose to poke about their lairs, or will you simply ask them?"
Sir George glanced deprecatingly at her. "You dragons disdain the renegades entirely, and so you know hardly anything about them. You're also guilty of disdaining the company of the drakes, and yet the drakes remain loyal to the dragons. The point is that the drakes don't remove themselves from the affairs of the outside world, and so they know a good deal about what's going on. I propose to go straight to a source I know and trust. I'm going to ask the drakes."
"They must be good for something," Kharendaen remarked, teasing him for his criticism of the conceits of dragons.
"The problem is, I need to borrow a dragon," he continued. "Otherwise this could take weeks or even months."
Kharendaen lifted her head, surprised but not offended. "Unfortunately, I dare not leave the Dragonlord. The dragons are at war in the east, and we may be needed there at any time. But that is not to say that a dragon is not available. If the Great One is willing, I will summon one of my fellow clerics to serve your purpose."
The next morning, Thelvyn turned his attention back to the matter of the ambassador's reception at the palace, which was now only four nigh
ts away. He was determined to attend the reception in formal attire, which meant that he had to have clothing and boots made for the occasion. He took some time out that morning to be fitted for both, taking Sir George with him to help decide what would be best for him. Between his childhood as a village orphan peasant and the limitations placed upon him by the armor of the Dragonlord, he had no idea of fashion.
At first, Solveig flatly refused his suggestion that she accompany him to the reception as his companion, even though he knew that she had been raised in one of the first families of Thyatis and was perfectly able to to handle herself at even the most demanding social occasions. But she relented reluctantly by that evening, submitting to Sir George's reminder that Thelvyn really needed her company to help keep him out of trouble. In other words, keep him away from the daughters of ambitious men, she read between the lines. Of course, that meant she needed to have clothes of her own made for her, and she had some rather definite ideas about what she wanted.
That night brought another surprise, at least as far as Thelvyn was concerned. He had completely forgotten that Kharendaen had promised to summon a dragon cleric to serve Sir George in his search for the Collar of the Dragons. Therefore he was rather surprised to see a gold dragon land in the courtyard outside the house just after dinner. Kharendaen was out into the yard to greet their visitor even before the others could get there, and it was at her suggestion that they all quickly moved inside her lair. She preferred that the Flaem, especially the Fire Wizards, should not be aware that a second dragon had arrived at Thelvyn's house. She reasoned that anyone who saw the new dragon's arrival would assume it was she.
The gold dragon was a young male named Seldaek, younger than Kharendaen and also somewhat smaller. To Thelvyn, who was familiar with dragons, he looked like a boy, hardly old enough to be considered an adult. He was obviously rather fearful of the Dragonlord at first and kept a respectful distance. But he was in fact a cleric, and he deferred to Kharendaen as both his elder and a leader of his order. He quickly proved himself to be no young fool, but brave and clever and patient. Kharendaen knew him well and trusted him completely. She entrusted the young dragon to Sir George's keeping at once, and the old knight told him all they knew and had planned up until that moment.
"How soon can you be ready to begin a long journey?" Sir George asked finally.
"I am ready now," Seldaek replied, glancing over his shoulder at the dragon saddle he wore. "Now I know why I was instructed to bring this saddle. I am willing to leave as soon as you are. Am I correct in assuming we go first in search of the drakes?"
"I know where to find them," Sir George said. "The wilds of Darokin are home to several drake communities."
"Drake communities?" Solveig asked.
"When drakes are ready to have little ones, they go off by themselves into the wilds to live for some time in their true form," Sir George explained rather defensively. "There are hidden drake communities formed especially for that purpose, places were drakes can live as themselves. My earliest memories are of hunting rabbits in the woods and climbing stones outside just such a community. I was about four or five when I mastered the ability to change my shape, and shortly thereafter my parents
took me to their home in Darokin."
"That must have been quite a change for you," Thelvyn commented.
"Oh, it was. Frankly, I didn't much like it at first. But my parents were jewelers and traders in small treasures, quite well off. I actually come from a line of rather remarkable mandrakes. Most are petty thieves, rather quiet, furtive folk by nature. I grew up a trader and learned that before I ever became a knight."
"How do two drakes ever find each other, when they are hardly ever in their true form?" Thelvyn asked.
"A dragonkin will always recognize another on sight, no matter what form it might take," Sir George answered, then saw that the others were staring at him. The two dragons seemed to have a dark fascination for what he said, as if they found it all strange and quite uncivilized. "Pray don't worry yourselves about it. The drakes are the least of our concerns. Seldaek, are you prepared to face the renegades?"
"I am not afraid," Seldaek insisted bravely.
Sir George and Seldaek didn't make an especially reassuring team as far as the others were concerned, and they still held certain misgivings when they watched the pair fly off toward the south in the darkness before dawn the next morning. Solveig had accepted the fact that she wouldn't be going with them, since the company of drakes and renegades was no place for one who was not dragonkin. Her place was with the Dragonlord in the Highlands. If it proved necessary, she was to continue the search for the collar in Braastar or other strongholds of the wizards.
Once they were gone, Thelvyn had to turn his attention back to more immediate concerns in Braejr. His situation at court remained much the same as it had been. Jherridan valued Thelvyn's judgment more than ever and sought his advice in all matters, yet remained careful never to presume upon him or test the limits of his duty as the Dragonlord. And while Byen Kalestraan made no apparent progress in his search for magic that might be helpful in a war with Alphatia, he voluntarily kept his word to permit the Dragonlord to search all the strongholds of the Fire
Wizards. Thelvyn was given a tour of the entire Academy, and Kharendaen took him to Braastar and other strongholds throughout the Highlands. He found nothing, as he had expected, although he now had an idea of where to send Solveig for a closer look if need be.
When the evening of the ambassador's reception arrived, Thelvyn had trouble getting himself ready and was nearly late. He had grown used to wearing nothing more than shirt and trousers for years now. His new clothes were slightly more colorful than the typical Flaemish attire, since he was certain that he would have felt even more self-conscious in the gaudier fashions of Darokin or Thyatis. Even so, the jacket gave his arms less movement than he wished, and he had to remember not to bend over too far, or else everything got out of place. He was absolutely convinced that the boots were much too small. He nearly fell down the stairs when he finally came downstairs from his room.
Solveig was waiting for him, although the only reason he even recognized her was that it was highly unlikely there was another golden-haired woman well over six feet tall in all the Highlands. She wore her hair unbraided and loose over her shoulders, complemented by a netting of gold chain inset with rubies. Her dress was long and deceptively simple. It was made of a deep green satin that had almost a metallic sheen, with wide, flowing sleeves. With the exception of the sleeves, the dress was otherwise formfitting and enhanced her slender, athletic figure. Because of her experiences as a warrior, she had several faint scars on her arms, and so she refused to wear dresses or shirts without long sleeves. A rather amazingly large area of the front of the dress's front stood below the high collar, revealing an ample portion of her breasts.
Curiously, she wore a cape of matching dark green attached to the collar of the dress, so that it could not be removed. Although that seemed an unexpected feature, it in no way diminished the dress's stunning effect. To highlight her appearance, she wore a necklace of ancient design, with gold plates bearing precious stones that spread across her bare shoulders. Thelvyn recognized it as a piece from Sir George's private collection; the Flaemish worthies at the reception would have been scandalized to learn that it was Alphatian in origin. In addition, she wore a gold belt, cinching the clinging dress at her waist and complimenting her figure all the more.
"My word," Thelvyn breathed softly.
"Put your eyes back in your head," Solveig admonished him. "Sir George told me that I'm to scare off the ladies tonight. I don't necessarily have to be a barbarian to manage that, now, do I?"
"Obviously not," he agreed. "I've apparently never had a chance to fully appreciate your true . . . versatility in the past."
Solveig reached over her shoulder, slipping one hand beneath the cape, and brought out a short sword from where it had been hidden. He didn't recognize it as o
ne of her own. She must have had the sheath attached directly to the dress somehow, since there was no belt or harness to be seen. The cape had a heavy lining of some sort of material, which completely hid the sword so that its shape couldn't be detected through the fabric. Since Thelvyn was also planning to carry a sword of ceremonial importance, he no longer felt so concerned about assassins.
"Well, the two of you have fun," Kharendaen remarked wickedly, poking her head out the door of her lair as they left. "But that might be a bit much to expect."
Solveig had declined Thelvyn's offer to have a carriage brought around; he did not have a carriage anyway, since the palace was only a few streets away. He noticed that she wasn't wearing slippers or sandals but light suede boots of the elvish style, quite in fashion in this northern land. Thelvyn had specified a low heel for his own boots. Of course, he wasn't used to boots of any type, since they were too bulky to allow him to teleport into his armor.
"Kharendaen needs to get out more," Solveig remarked as they strolled together. "When she starts saying things that I would have expected to hear from my mother, I don't know whether to be alarmed or merely amused. After all this time, I never expected that she would start thinking that we might make a good match."
"Is that really what she meant?" Thelvyn asked, trying to
remember just what the dragon had said.
"Well? Why weren't we. ever closer?" she asked suddenly.
"You happen to be one of three people in all the world I would say that I am close to," Thelvyn replied. "But I know that isn't what you mean. There was a time when I thought I was very in love with you. But I was just a boy when we met, and then I became the Dragonlord. I acquired responsibilities that made it impossible for me to travel about the wilds as an adventurer, which was the life you still wanted."
D& D - Mystara 02 Dragonking of Mystara Page 10