He didn’t take the time to check them, instead he immediately turned into the stairwell and ascended to the second floor.
The first room he came to after leaving the stairwell was behind a closed door. When he opened the door he found a room where all the furniture was draped in sheets. All in all it had the appearance that no one had lived in that room for quite some time. Closing the door he continued on.
He came across three other rooms before finding one that interested him. When he peered into that fourth room from the hallway, even in the darkness he could tell this room stood a good chance of being the one he wanted.
It was sparsely furnished with but two tables in the center of the room. They were situated side by side with just enough room between them for a man to pass comfortably.
There were a total of three chairs sitting around the two tables and what looked to be a chest sitting against the wall to the right.
But what really intrigued him was the shadowy outline of a map on the wall opposite the door. In the dark he couldn’t see what was depicted upon it, but it definitely piqued his interest.
He entered the room and found that one of the tables was bare while the other had papers lying across its surface. Bart walked across the floor and set his pack on the barren table and opened it. First his tube lantern emerged, the very same one he used back in Quillim when they searched the Magistrate’s Office, then came a small candle that would be used as the tube lantern’s source of light. Before lighting the candle, he set it within the tube lantern then went to the room’s window and looked out.
Over the years he’s learned to be extra cautious when he was somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. The room was facing the back of the house and he looked out to see if he could see anyone out there. When he was certain the area out there was free of witnesses, he returned to the tube lantern and lit the candle.
The first thing he turned the light on was the map on the wall. His eyes widened when the light revealed a map riddled with small, thin nails. Each of the nails had a small scrap of paper attached to its end. The map itself depicted an area wider than that which was on the wall map in Crag Keep, it extended further in every direction.
He moved nearer the map and was quick to notice the nails were of two different colors. By far the majority were the color of copper, with a smattering of silver. The papers attached to the nails had numbers written on them. The highest number he saw on one of the papers was thirty, and it was attached to a copper colored nail.
Bart realized this map must show where various coins of the King had been found and the number recovered. The greatest concentration of nails was along the mountain range separating the goblin lands from that of the humans. From Island Lake in the south, all the way to the Barrow Downs to the north.
The concentration of nails gradually diminished as you moved away from the mountains, especially on the goblin side. Once on the goblin side, the pins didn’t progress too much further than the other side of the mountain. Though there were three places far into goblin territory that held pins. Bart grinned to himself when he saw the area near the lake where they had found the Ruins of Algoth held no pins whatsoever. Durik didn’t know about it!
He found Quillim and to his surprise it held many nails too. One of them was a silver with the number two and another was a copper with six. Bart wished the small bits of paper would have also disclosed when the coins had been found as well.
Through the plethora of copper nails and the smattering of silver, he searched to see if there were any gold nails indicating where gold coins of the King had been found. But try as he might, he couldn’t discover any. Of course, it could be that they were so alike in color to the coppers that he simply couldn’t tell them apart in the none too bright light coming from his tube lantern. After a few more minutes scanning the map, he gave up trying to find the golden nails and turned to the table with the papers.
The one on top was a short missive which spoke of some person who was on the trail of the King’s Horde somewhere to the south. The name of the individual and his location wasn’t mentioned, it seemed as if the person who wrote it felt the reader would already know. The letter simply referred to the individual as The River Man.
Bart had never heard anyone referred to by that title before and wondered who it could be. Another of the letters spoke of The River Man being down near the Moran Tribes, the nation to the south of Byrdlon. Apparently Durik was having the activities of The River Man carefully watched.
The second to last paper on the table was a missive from another of his agents. His eyes widened when he caught site of his name and along with Riyan’s and Chad’s in the body of the letter.
Durik,
Thyrr finally came clean with who it was that fenced the coins, two young men from the small town of Quillim up north. I proceeded there and tracked them down. One’s a shepherd by the name of Riyan Borenson. The other is Chad Kelon the son of the local miller. Both have turned up missing shortly after the coins were fenced.
I have made some inquiries but no one seems to know where they went. When asked about the coins, the locals just stared at me dumbly like the sheep they herd. The two young men were savvy enough to keep their mouths shut. It’ll make the job more difficult, but not impossible.
They may be in the company of a third individual who went missing around the time they did. The young man’s name is Bart, a drifter who the locals say showed up a little over a year ago.
I’ll keep asking around another day. Expect to see me by week’s end for a full report.
Pyck
At least they don’t know where Riyan and Chad are, Bart thought to himself. But how long that’s going to last is anyone’s guess.
The last letter on the desk was of a more personal nature, a simple correspondence from a friend. It had nothing to do with the King’s Horde or anything else pertinent to such things.
Bart then panned the light around the room to see if there was anything else that may be of interest. The room was pretty plain other than the map on the wall. After doing a complete circuit of the room, he turned his attention to the chest sitting against the wall.
Sitting there illuminated by the light from his tube lantern, Bart considered it for a second before going over to it. He then took out his lockpicks and knelt before the front of the chest as he gave it a quick once over.
Even though it didn’t look like it was trapped, he proceeded with caution anyway. He knew from past experience that most people won’t trap the chests they gain access to on a day to day basis. It would be too easy for them to fall prey to their own device during a moment of distraction or forgetfulness. Most trapped chests lay in secret vaults. Of course inner compartments of a readily accessible chest that were little used were likely to hold a minor but deadly trap.
His tube lantern lay on the floor situated in a position so that its beam of light shone on the front of the chest while he worked. After a moment’s work he discovered what he had suspected, there was no trap on this chest. He easily worked the lock and soon had the chest open.
Inside he found a small bag containing a handful of the King’s copper coins. Not nearly the amount one would expect of a collector. Of the silver ones he had bought off of Thyrr there was no sign.
Sitting next to the bag of coins was a small, worn book. It looked like it had seen frequent use as its cover was stained and cracked. Bart reached in and removed it. He flipped open the book and noticed that it was a journal of Durik’s quest for the King’s Horde.
There were over two score pages within the book and on all but the last few pages were notations and drawings. The front several pages held four separate drawing of the King’s coins. It also talked of the discovery of the coins that sparked the last quest thirty years ago. That must have been when Durik first developed interest in finding the King’s Horde. According to the notebook, it wasn’t Durik that had discovered that cache. It was a woman by the name of Clara Hinkton.
Du
rik had noted that she lived in Jesop’s Crossing, a small town west of here. It lay in the hills at the base of the mountains and sat along the main north-south road. Apparently she had been digging in the hills making rows in which to plant her tuber plants when she came across the coins buried loosely in the dirt. Realizing there was money beneath the ground, she forgot about the neat rows she had been working on and started churning the dirt quickly in search of more. Initially she found only seventeen of the coins. Later when her family came to help her dig for more did they uncover the final thirteen.
From what the journal said, people tore the neighboring hills apart trying to locate more but only succeeded in destroying the land. Bart noticed one passage in which Durik said the treasure hunters were like ‘a plague upon the land’. Whether or not Durik had been one of their number wasn’t noted.
Bart flipped through the pages quickly in the hopes of coming across a depiction of any of the coats of arms they had found in The Crypt. But by the time he had flipped through every page, he hadn’t seen them.
There were three small maps drawn on some of the pages near the end of the journal.
But after a cursory glance of the notations regarding them he realized they were leads Durik had followed up on that went nowhere. One even had the notation written beneath it that said, ‘Paid 20 golds for this! Got it back when I killed the lying dog’.
Bart set the journal on the floor next to the chest and then began searching for hidden compartments. After several fruitless minutes, he replaced the journal back in the chest and arranged it and the sack of coins just as they were before he had disturbed them.
Then he closed the lid.
Taking his tube lantern from off the floor, Bart returned to his feet and glanced around. This can’t be all there is, he thought to himself. Where were all the silver coins that Durik had bought from Thyrr? They have to be here somewhere, but where?
He blew out his light as he no longer needed it at the moment. Once his eyes became readjusted to the darkness, he began seeing outlines and shadows formed by the moonlight coming in through the windows. At that point, he picked up his pack and put his tube lantern in it.
Bart then left the room and began a cursory check of the rest of the house. He didn’t need much light for what he was doing now. Moving from room to room, he tried to ascertain where there might be space between rooms that would be large enough to hide a hidden room. Of course he didn’t rule out the possibility of a wall recess but he wanted to do a quick check and then get out of here.
The search of the second floor didn’t reveal any unusual widening of the walls which might indicate a hidden room. Once he descended the stairs back to the ground floor he made another cursory check of the rooms on that level.
The rooms he came across were the usual fare one would expect to find in a manor house such as this; large dining room, a kitchen, a library where Durik could take guests for an after dinner drink, and so forth. He did spend a little extra time in the library on the off chance Durik had something in there that may be pertinent to his hunt for the King’s Horde but came up with nothing.
During his sweep of the ground floor, he found a locked door near the kitchen. Using his lockpicks he had the door open in a second and found a flight of stairs leading down to the basement. Intrigued, he lit his tube lantern and took them down. The stairs descended a couple feet through the foundation of the manor before it started passing through solid dirt. In places the dirt had been shored up with planks and stone, but not with any great skill.
Bart descended another ten feet before coming to a very sturdy, wooden door. Just as the door above, it was locked but that didn’t pose much of an obstacle. Once the door was unlocked and his picks were returned to the rolled leather carrier, he pushed the door open.
It opened up onto a room that looked very much like a place where information was extracted from people. Sitting prominently in the middle of the room was a table roughly eight feet by five. At each of the four corners were manacles where a person could be restrained while he was being ‘convinced’ to impart information the questioner may desire.
Bolted to the wall to the right were two more sets of manacles where another two people could be held to await the questioner’s pleasure. Over to Bart’s left was a metal cage wherein additional captives could be placed and kept.
He moved into the room and panned the light from his tube lantern about. The light revealed an assortment of inquisitor tools such as pincers, knives, and screws. It also revealed a passage exiting the room across from the stairwell. Bart moved further into the room and inspected the table with the manacles and found that it was stained red.
Obviously Durik has brought people here from time to time, most likely those whom he thought may know something about the whereabouts of the King’s Horde. The stains were long dried so it didn’t look as if he has had anyone down here for some time.
Moving around the table, he headed for the passage on the other side. It didn’t extend very far, even before he entered it he could see that the passage opened up onto another room. Bart passed into the passage and walked to the room at its end.
This room was rather small with but a table and a single silver candlestick holding a half burnt candle resting upon it. A rickety old wooden chair sat before the desk looking well worn and used. The walls of the small room were dirt with just a touch of stone and wood used for bracing to keep them from caving in.
Entering the room, Bart panned the light around but all he saw was the table, candlestick, and chair. He still hadn’t discovered where Durik kept the coins he had collected. It was entirely possible he could be keeping them at another location or maybe even has them buried somewhere.
Bart turned to leave. He found out what he came here for. Obviously approaching Durik for information would be a bad idea. One glance at the manacled table and he envisioned himself strapped there if he but mentioned the King’s Horde to him. Durik was someone they would do well to avoid if at all possible. However, if they were going to continue the search for the other segments of the key, they better move quickly before Durik or his agents find them.
After leaving Durik’s basement, he relocked the door at the bottom and once he was back at the top of the stairs, locked that one too. Then he extinguished the candle in his tube lantern and headed for the door.
He moved silently through the darkened house, taking it slow at first until his eyes readjusted to the darkness. By the time his night vision returned he had reached the front door. Everything was still quiet. He went to a nearby window and looked out across the moonlit landscape only to find it deserted.
Opening the door, Bart passed to the outside and locked the front door, leaving it just as he had found it. He hustled quickly away from the house and cut cross country so as to avoid anyone who may be approaching unseen down the lane. Once the manor house was some distance behind him, he returned to the road and hurried back to the inn.
In the morning he’ll leave and return to Gilbeth. There he’ll be sure to inform the others about what he learned and the fact that they could soon be targeted by a rather unscrupulous person.
Chapter Six
_______________________
“Keep those swords up!” the Drillmaster hollered.
Beads of sweat formed on Riyan’s brow. The fat-ugly was held at guard before him causing his arm and back to protest loudly. He and the other Recruits have been at this for over an hour now.
Tad, a Swordmaster and one of the Drillmaster’s assistants was walking down the row of Recruits towards Riyan. Throughout the drill, he has been walking first up one row then down another.
Lord not me! Riyan thought to himself. Holding the sword at the ready, he kept his eyes straight ahead all the while watching the Swordmaster’s approach from the corner of his eye. Swordmaster Tad walked ever closer, passing one Recruit after another. When his steps brought him close to Riyan, he reached for the hilt of the sword that hung at his side and Riya
n’s heart sank.
Tad’s sword left its scabbard lightning fast and struck Riyan’s fat-ugly. At that instant, Riyan broke his immobile stance and launched an attack upon Tad. Despite the complete unwillingness of his muscles to obey, he lashed out with the fat-ugly. Tad of course easily deflected the blow and began backing up to force Riyan to follow.
Riyan pressed forward with a cry on his lips and engaged Tad as he gradually moved backward. Blow after blow Riyan tried unsuccessfully to land on the Swordmaster, and all the while, Tad merely deflected the attacks as he began weaving in and out of the other Recruits standing immobile.
Extra care had to be taken not to strike the other Recruits. For to inadvertently land a blow upon one of them would mean serious repercussions from the Drillmaster. The least of which would be extra drill time at the end of the session.
This was the second time Riyan had been selected to wield the fat-ugly through the rows of Recruits. He was quite proud of the fact that during the first time he weaved through the rows, he didn’t strike anyone. They were told the purpose of this drill was twofold.
First, a fighter had to be able to attack and defend themselves no matter how tired you became. Most of the time, the one who survived when matched off with another fighter of equal skill was the one who could outlast the other. So the Drillmaster had them hold the fat-uglies which drained their strength fast and then they force them to attack.
The second purpose was skill. There are times in battle when you must fight in close quarters and may be in close proximity to allies. Being able to keep your sword from striking an ally is another critical component in winning a battle. After all, you don’t want to do your enemy’s job for them.
“Your friends are dying Riyan!” the Drillmaster hollered from his position at the fore of the assembled Recruits. “If you don’t dispatch your opponent, Chad may not see tomorrow. Or maybe Seth and Soth would lose a leg, or an arm.” Riyan gritted his teeth and worked to overcome the exhaustion his arm was feeling as he tried to get through Tad’s guard. First a strike, then he would be forced to block a blow Tad aimed at him. Already he hurt in half a dozen places where the wooden sword Tad was wielding had already struck him.
The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde Page 8