The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde

by Brian S. Pratt

  Once he had it placed in a good position, he lifted the hand he wrote with and the scroll immediately rolled back up. He looked up at Stryntner but he offered no advice. So he took matters into his own hand. First he lifted the edge of the candelabrum and slid the upper edge of the scroll under it then set it back down. For the bottom edge of the scroll he used the inkwell. When he was sure the candelabrum and the inkwell would keep the scroll from rolling back on itself, he glanced up at Stryntner. But again, he offered neither advice nor criticism, merely watched.

  Taking up his quill once more, he began copying the words onto the parchment before him. All the while he worked, Stryntner stood over his shoulder without comment.

  When he finished the last word, Stryntner broke his silence.

  “You do in fact have a nice hand my boy,” he said. Then the Keeper indicated two drops of ink that were now upon the original scroll. “You want to avoid that as much as possible.” He then moved to the table next to the one Riyan was seated at and removed two small, domed rocks. He brought them over and handed them to Riyan. “These work well at keeping the scrolls in place.”

  Riyan replaced the candelabrum and inkwell with them. “Thank you,” he replied.

  “Come with me,” he said as he turned and walked away from the table.

  Riyan quickly came to his feet and followed him through the Archives to a section in the back. Stryntner came to a stop before two of the free standing bookshelves, both were heavily covered in a layer of dust. From the looks of them, no one has removed the tomes and scrolls upon their shelves for some time.

  Stryntner turned to Riyan as he pointed to the tomes on the two bookcases. “These are the tomes which require transcribing,” he explained.

  “That’s quite a lot,” stated Riyan.

  “True, but it needs doing nonetheless,” replied Stryntner. He reached for one of the tomes and removed it gingerly from the shelf. Blowing the dust off, he opened it carefully and looked at the writing on the inside. The way he held the tome was just as a mother would hold her newborn infant, careful and lovingly.

  He closed the tome and handed it to Riyan. “You should be able to read this,” he said as Riyan took it.

  Riyan opened the cover just as gently as Stryntner had and saw that the writing was indeed in his language, just a slightly archaic form of it. “I can,” he admitted.

  “Good.” Stryntner said then returned to the table where Riyan had worked. “Use this table and stack the finished pieces of parchment here.” He pointed to the top left corner of the table which was currently bare. “Once you have finished, I’ll have them bound into a more permanent form.”

  “When should I start?” he asked. Just then, his stomach let out with a loud growl.

  Stryntner smiled. “Tomorrow will be soon enough,” he replied. “Go down and get something to eat. I remember how hungry you get after one of the Guild’s drills. We must keep our strength up.”

  “Thank you,” replied Riyan. “I’ll do that.” He set the aged tome carefully on the table. “I’ll make sure to copy this with the utmost care.” Stryntner patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you will my boy.” Then he turned and began rummaging around amongst some aged books on a nearby shelf.

  Riyan waited there for a moment, unsure whether he had been dismissed or not. Then he remembered what Tad had said about his mind going and quietly slipped out the door.

  With a lilt in his step, he went downstairs to the mess.

  Chapter Seven

  _______________________

  Once Riyan headed up to the Archives, Chad had a quick meal at the mess then went out to spend time in the foyer. Bart was overdue by a day and he was getting anxious about what may have happened to him.

  Out in the foyer, he saw some of the regulars that made it a habit of dropping by from time to time to catch up on news and visit with old friends. As it turned out, Barin was there talking with an older man. When he saw Chad standing there looking about he caught his eye and waved him over.

  “Chad, I’d like you to meet my father,” Barin said, indicating the man sitting with him.

  It was easy to see the resemblance between father and son. Barin’s father was a man of middle years to whom it looked as if life had been very good. Riyan gave him a slight bow and said, “Good to meet you sir.”

  Barin’s father returned his nod without reply.

  “What brings you out here?” Barin asked.

  “Hoping to meet a friend,” replied Chad. “I’ve been expecting him for some time.”

  “Nothing wrong I hope?” his fellow Recruit asked.

  Chad shook his head. “I doubt it,” he said.

  “Barin tells me you are from Quillim?” the father asked.

  “That’s right,” Chad said. “My father owns the mill there.”

  “A miller’s son?” he said. “How did you manage to arrange entry into the Guild if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Barin indicated the vacant seat at their table and Chad sat down to join them. “Thank you,” he said. Turning his attention back to the father he answered his question. “A friend and I came across some money and gained entry that way.” The father’s face frowned slightly at that. “I see.” Chad sighed. It seemed that was always the reaction he received when he told someone about how he had entered the Guild. To many, it seemed a less than honorable means by which to become a member.

  Just then Chad caught sight of Bart walking in through the doorway and felt great relief to have an excuse to leave Barin and his father. Standing up, he said to them, “If you’ll excuse me, my friend just arrived.” He nodded over to Bart who was heading his way.

  “Nice to meet you young man,” the father said.

  “You too, sir,” he replied. Then to Barin he said, “Talk to you later.” He left the father and son behind as he headed towards Bart.

  By this time Bart had crossed half the distance between them. Chad noticed an empty table over in a corner and indicated for Bart to meet him there. “I was getting worried about you,” he said as the two came together.

  “Where’s Riyan?” he asked.

  Chad grinned and pointed to the ceiling. “He’s up in the Archives helping to transcribe some old tomes,” he explained.

  “He actually did it,” said Bart as he took his seat.

  “Not sure how much free time he’ll have to hunt for the information we need though,” he said. “Did your search turn up anything?”

  “More than you’d guess,” Bart told him. Lowering his voice, he continued. “We should talk about this someplace more private, like Kevik’s estate.” Chad saw the way Bart’s face grew grim and asked, “Anything wrong?”

  “You might say that.” He glanced around and then leaned forward. In a voice so low as to be almost inaudible he said, “A group of rather ruthless hunters for the you-know-what has discovered who it was that fenced the coins to Thyrr.” After a sharp intake of breath at the news, Chad glanced around the foyer nervously.

  “I don’t think they’ve traced you two here yet,” Bart assured him. “But it’s only a matter of time.”

  Returning his attention to Bart, he asked in an equally low voice, “Do you know if they’ve been to Quillim?”

  Bart nodded. “They have.”

  Chad’s face paled.

  “What?” Bart asked.

  “Riyan sent his mother a letter to let her know he’s alright,” he explained. “He told here where we were.”

  “And a son in the Warriors Guild isn’t something a mother will keep to herself,” Bart concluded.

  “What are we going to do?” Chad asked.

  “They won’t dare do anything while you two are within the Guild’s grounds,” Bart said. “From what I understand, if they did the repercussions could be lethal for them. No, they’ll wait for a chance when you aren’t within the Guild’s protection.”

  “Our ten-day isn’t for another four days,” Chad said.

  “Good,” Bart said. “In
the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out in case they show up.” He could see the worry on his friend’s face. “Relax. You two are in the safest place imaginable.”

  Chad nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Now,” began Bart in an attempt to get his friend’s mind off of things, “what’s your training been like.”

  For the next hour they talked about the Warriors Guild, the different skills they work on, and a dozen other subjects. Though throughout it all lay an undercurrent of worry about what may be in store for them in the future.

  A candle burned on the table next to him as he studied the words upon the page of the book laid open before him. Most of the symbols and wording he understood, but a few failed all attempts at understanding.

  His former master had quite a collection of books, but so far none has yielded any information on the unknown symbols. Rubbing his eyes, he again worked to figure them out. This was the final spell which he must master in order to complete his staff, a spell of Arcane Infusion. The one he’s working on will infuse the staff with up to three of the minor spells he already knew. There were other Infusion spells he had come across during his research in Allar’s library which would be more effective when creating a Staff of Power, but this one held the least amount of symbols with which he was unfamiliar.

  “Kevik!”

  From outside he heard Bart calling his name. Sighing, he again rubbed his eyes and stretched. His back ached from the hours he’d spent pouring over the books in Allar’s library. He could definitely use a break. Going over to the window he stuck his head out and looked down at Bart standing by the door. “Be right down,” he hollered. When he saw Bart acknowledge him with a wave, he pulled his head back in and went down to the bottom floor to open the door for him.

  Grabbing one of the candles from the table as he passed by, he took the stairs down through the second floor to the first. He unlocked the door which was locked by more than just an ordinary locking mechanism and stepped aside as Bart entered.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Kevik said as he swung the door closed.

  “You too,” replied Bart. When Kevik was finished relocking the door and turned to return up to the third floor, Bart saw his face. “Burning the midnight oil?” Bart paused and looked at his friend. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “You have sacks under your eyes the size of grapes,” he explained.

  “I do?” Kevik asked. He reached up and felt them with his fingers then gave Bart a grin. “I have been keeping long hours lately.”

  Bart followed him up to the third floor where it was a bit warmer, but not by much.

  “Why don’t you build a fire in the fireplace?” he asked.

  “My robe keeps me warm enough,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t have much time to spend chopping wood and I hardly have the wherewithal to hire someone.” Bart nodded in understanding. Despite having a chest of gold coins secreted away somewhere in the estate, he could hardly use them. After all, they were the ones they had brought out with them from the Ruins of Algoth. If he were to spend any of them it would raise problematic questions.

  “Any further on your staff?” Bart asked.

  “Actually I’m almost finished,” Kevik said with pride. He walked over to the table where the staff lay upon two stands, one at either end of the staff that kept it six inches above the table. Removing it from the stands, he held it out for Bart to see. “I have but one more spell to master and it’s complete.”

  “That’s great news,” Bart said. He reached out to take the staff but Kevik pulled the staff away and shook his head.

  “Might not be a good idea for anyone but me to touch it until it’s complete,” he explained.

  “As you wish,” replied Bart.

  Kevik set it back on the stands and turned to find Bart looking at the book that sat open on the table.

  “Is this part of the spell you’re working on?” he asked.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Though keep in mind that indiscriminate perusal of a magic user’s book can at times bring unfortunate repercussions.”

  “What?” asked Bart as he turned to look at him.

  “Simply put, a magic user’s spell book is normally trapped in some way,” he explained. “Fortunately that one is simply an informational one. You might wish to make sure it’s safe before you glance at any more open pages in the future.” Bart nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Kevik came to his side and said, “But yes, that’s the spell I’m working on.” He pointed to several of the symbols that reoccurred throughout the spell. “I don’t know what these are. So far every book I’ve read has failed to mention them.”

  “Have you looked through all the books yet?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” he replied with a sigh. “There are still dozens more which may yield the information I require.”

  “What will you do if they don’t tell you what you need to know?” Bart asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  Bart moved over and took a seat in a nearby chair as he mulled it over. “What about asking the help of another magic user?” he suggested. “I’m sure one with more experience would understand them.”

  “It’s not that easy,” he said. Sitting in a chair next to Bart he continued. “For the most part, magic users are a secretive lot. None wish to share their knowledge unless it’s with their apprentice or very close associates. Unfortunately I am accounted as neither by anyone.”

  “Hmmm, that does pose a problem,” he agreed.

  “So, what have you been up to?” Kevik asked.

  “Well, let me tell you…” began Bart. He then went into the details of his trip to Kemmet, Durik, and his subsequent exploration of Durik’s estate. When he told of the letters detailing their knowledge of Riyan, Chad, and Bart his eyes widened.

  “Do you think they’ll show up here?” he asked.

  Bart nodded. “It’s only a matter of time.” He then explained how Riyan had told his mother where he was and that it was unlikely she would keep it a secret. “So far very few people know of your involvement. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “But that’s not going to last forever,” he explained. “Every time one of you comes out here creates a possibility that they’ll make the connection.”

  “I know,” admitted Bart. “But you have magical defenses in place right?”

  “To an extent, yes,” affirmed Kevik. “But there are ways around them if you know they’re there.” He gave Bart a grim look then added, “I wish I was further along in my studies. I’m sure I could come up with something more potent.”

  “What you have now seems to be fairly effective,” Bart said encouragingly.

  “I hope so,” he replied.

  They sat quietly for a minute as each reflected on their own thoughts. The candlelight danced in the slight breeze coming in through the window and Bart shivered in the cold.

  “You really need to get some wood in here for guests if nothing else,” he said.

  Kevik grinned. “Maybe you would be helpful in supplying it for me?” Bart shook his head. “I’m not that cold, yet.” Then a thought came to him about the problem he was having with his spell. “Could you give me something that has those symbols you don’t understand written on it?”

  “What for?” Kevik asked.

  “It might be a long shot,” he explained, “but there may be a way I can find out the information you need.”

  “There is?” Kevik looked on him doubtfully. But when Bart explained what he intended to do, his doubt turned into hope. “It’s possible,” he agreed. “They use much the same symbols and rituals that we do, or so I understand.” Kevik stood and walked over to a pile of books on a smaller table near the one which held the open book he had been studying. He searched through the pile of books for a moment before returning to Bart with one in his hand. He opened it up to one of the pages and pointed out five different symbols. “These are the ones I don’t understand.” Bar
t took the book, and pointed them out to Kevik. When Kevik nodded, he closed the book and slipped it into his pack. “I’ll leave in the morning,” he explained. “I may be a couple days. If Riyan and Chad visit you on their ten-day, let them know what’s going on.”

  “I will,” he replied.

  Bart shivered again from the cold and came to his feet. “I’m returning to town where I can get warm,” he announced.

  “Don’t you want to stay in your room in the manor?” he asked.

  Bart shook his head. “No. It’s getting too cold to be there without a fire. Once you get some wood in I’ll be more than happy to stay.”

  Kevik looked a bit embarrassed by the fact Bart was cold as he picked up the candle again to escort him down to the door.

  On the way down the stairs, Bart suggested, “The next time Riyan and Chad stop by, why don’t you have them lay in some wood for you? With their newly formed muscles they should make quick work of it.”

  Kevik laughed. “I’ll be sure to ask them.”

  At the door, Bart waited while Kevik undid the various locks, both mechanical and magical. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “With any luck I’ll have already figured them out before you do,” Kevik said hopefully.

  “Keep an eye out for strangers,” warned Bart as he stepped through the door.

  “I will,” Kevik assured him. “You be careful too.”

  Bart nodded then hurried through the cold night to where his horse was tied. He quickly mounted and with a wave of farewell to Kevik, headed on into town.

  Kevik shut the door and locked it. On his way back up to his work room, he felt a shiver from the cold. Maybe Bart was right. He definitely planned on asking Chad and Riyan about supplying some wood when they arrived. Back on the third floor, he set the candle on the table. Sitting in the chair before the open book, he resumed his search for the elusive explanations that he needed so badly.