The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde
Page 13
“If it’s all the same, I would just as soon stay,” he replied.
Shrugging, Bart said, “As you will.” He once again turned his attention to the man and saw the man’s eyes on him. “You’re awake, good.” The man glanced from Bart, to Phyndyr, then did a quick scan of the room before returning to Bart. “What happened?” he asked. He reached up to the back of his head and found a lump there.
Bart ignored the question as he said, “I hear you’ve been looking for me.” The man failed to respond to the question, instead he sat up and propped his back against another of the crates that sat nearby. Once he was comfortable, the man looked back at him. “You’re Bartholomew Agreani I take it?” Bart nodded. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you intend to do?” he asked.
“Nothing,” he replied.
Bart laughed. “Nothing?” he asked. “Why did you wish to find me anyway? And don’t give me that tale about how I stole from your employer. We both know that was just a ruse to find me.”
“True,” he said. “But so far it’s been a pretty successful one.” He took another look around the storeroom and saw the scriber materials lying on the shelves and was glad he had decided against testing the validity of Phyndyr’s claim about being one. “My employer wishes to meet with you,” he finally came out and said.
“I don’t think so,” replied Bart. “Durik doesn’t seem the sort who would prove beneficial for me to do business with.”
Eyes widening in surprise that he would know for whom he worked, the man asked,
“How do you know Durik?”
Bart gave him a grin, “I know many things. I know he’s hunting for me and two associates of mine. I know he wishes to interrogate us as to the location of a certain place.” He paused for a moment as he let the information sink in. “Please feel free to speak up if I’m in error.” The man just sat there quietly.
“Are you going to kill me?” the man asked.
“Hardly,” replied Bart. From where he sat he heard Phyndyr sigh. Turning to his friend he said, “I wouldn’t dirty your shop with another man’s blood.” Then he returned his attention to the man.
“No, but I would like you to deliver a message to your employer,” he said.
“What?”
Bart knelt down and looked the man straight in the eyes. “We don’t know where it is,” he said. “His attempts to track us down are irritating and I want them to stop.” He saw the man’s eyes narrow and his face draw into a scowl as he listened. “I would hate to think of the events that would be set in motion should I discover you, Durik, or any others were coming after us.” He paused a moment to let that sink in. “Do I make myself clear?”
The man nodded.
“Now, I think it’s time for you to leave,” he said. Standing up, he offered the man a helping hand but had it knocked aside for his effort.
The man stood up and gave Bart a rather unpleasant look.
“If you’ll follow me,” Phyndyr said. “I’ll show you out.” Without a word, the man followed Phyndyr from the storeroom. He didn’t even give Bart a parting look of warning, just left.
Bart waited in the storeroom until Phyndyr returned from seeing the man out. “Sorry about all that,” he told his friend.
Phyndyr waved it away as unimportant. “You best watch your back from now on,” he said. “I don’t think he or his employer will let this go.”
“Neither do I,” agreed Bart. He took a seat on a crate and then looked to his friend.
“So, have you ever heard of this Durik or anyone called The River Man?” Chapter Nine
_______________________
Thunk!
The sound of an axe striking wood came to him through the window, blown in on a strong breeze. A storm had moved in the day before dropping the temperature, and now the wind was whipping pretty good. Despite the fire burning in the fireplace, the room was quite cold. Kevik pulled his robe closer as he tried to retain what warmth he could.
From the stairwell, he heard one of them dumping a load of cut wood on the pile down on the ground floor. Kevik had taken Bart’s advice about asking Chad and Riyan to cut wood for him. To his surprise, they had been more than happy to do it.
They had decided that the ground floor would be an ideal place to store the cut wood to keep it dry. Especially seeing as how Kevik never spent time in the manor house, he wouldn’t have far to haul it when needed.
Riyan and Chad had arrived a couple hours ago. They usually stopped by at least once during their ten-day, and today had been no exception. A pot bubbled contentedly over the fire, hot water for tea to warm them when they were done.
They had found axes in a shed behind the manor house and had picked out a dead tree close by the tower as a likely candidate for fuel. Once they had it cut down, one worked to trim the branches off while the other began cutting the trunk into workable sections.
Kevik turned back to the book laid out before him. He had deduced the meaning and pronunciation of one of the symbols which had thus far eluded him, the rest were still a mystery however. Not for the first time he wished Bart would return. Kevik didn’t expect him for another day or so.
A shiver ran through him as the wind whipped through the closed window shutter. If it grew much colder, he might be forced to move into the manor house. He didn’t relish the idea, he sort of liked the tower and the commanding view he had from its windows.
“Is the tea ready?” Riyan shouted up the stairwell.
Kevik got up and moved to the stairwell. “I’ll bring it down shortly,” he replied.
“Hurry up,” Riyan said. “We’re freezing down here.”
“Be right there,” he assured him. Moving from the stairwell, he went over and removed the small pot from the fire and brought it over to a table where another pot had been prepared with tea leaves. Once he had the teapot full of hot water, he set the hot water pot on the table. He stirred the mixture of tea leaves and water until it grew a uniform brown, then poured the tea into three large mugs.
He carried the steaming mugs down to the ground floor where he found a large pile of wood lying haphazardly in the middle of the floor. Just then, Chad walked in with a load of sectioned branches and tossed them on the pile.
Chad saw Kevik standing there with the mugs and grinned. “About time,” he said.
Both he and Riyan were wearing heavy coats, boots and leggings which the Guild had supplied them. Kevik was surprised to see sweat beading Chad’s forehead when he came to take the tea.
A second later Riyan entered with more wood and tossed his load onto the pile as well. He turned back to the door and shut it which greatly helped to keep the chill out before coming to retrieve his mug. “Thanks,” he said. Taking a sip, he grimaced. “What is this?” He glanced to Chad and could see that he didn’t care for it either.
“Tea,” said Kevik. “At least I think it is.” He tried a sip from his mug and realized just how vile it was. When they had begun working and mentioned how cold they were, he searched the tower but couldn’t find anything with which to make something hot for them. Then he went over to the manor house and had found a small container in the kitchen area which contained leaves that looked quite a bit like tea.
He glanced to Riyan and asked, “Would you rather have just water?” He didn’t have anything like ale here, magic users tended to avoid the ingestion of anything that may hamper their magical abilities. Once in a while at a tavern to be social they may partake, but not when it was likely they would be working with magic shortly afterwards.
Riyan took another sip and shook his head. “I’ll survive.”
“At least it’s hot,” added Chad just before he, too took another sip.
“You might wish to go into town and buy some tea leaves at the market,” suggested Riyan. “I don’t know what this is but I don’t want it again.” They took a moment’s respite from their work as they drank Kevik’s foul concoction.
“This isn’t some magical experiment or anything is
it?” Chad asked, holding up his mug.
Riyan’s eyes widened at the thought they may be drinking magical ingredients or some such thing.
Kevik shook his head. “No, I found the leaves with which I made the tea in a cupboard in the manor’s kitchen,” he assured them. “I’m sure there are no malignant properties associated with them.”
“I hope not,” stated Riyan.
“If I wake up with a tail tomorrow, I’ll know who to talk to,” stated Chad.
Kevik grinned and took another sip of the vile concoction. If he wasn’t so cold, he would have dumped it on the floor. Turning his attention to Riyan, he said, “I hope you are planning on piling the wood neatly before you’re done?”
“Listen to him would you?” asked Chad. “We’re not exactly hired hands here.” Riyan grinned. He could tell when Chad was joking at someone’s expense. When he saw concern draw across Kevik’s features he pointed to the far wall and said, “It’s okay, Kevik. He was just joking. We’ll have it stacked over there neatly before we’re done.” Kevik nodded. “That would be great.” He glanced to Chad who flashed him a mischievous grin which set him at ease.
“So,” began Chad, “have you had much time to work on the magic items?” Riyan’s attention perked up at that. They both had been most anxious to find out what wondrous properties they may hold.
A slightly embarrassed expression came over him as he shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he admitted. “What with trying to complete my staff, I simply haven’t had the time.”
“Well, I got to thinking,” Chad began. “Now would be a good time to see what they do, seeing as how you are waiting for Bart’s return and all…”
“I still don’t know enough about what I’m doing…” he argued.
“What do you mean?” asked Riyan. “When we were in the Ruins of Algoth you were quick enough to identify anything we came across. Why should now be any different?” He looked from one to the other and could see the expectation in their eyes. There were any number of reasons why an inexperienced magic user shouldn’t mess around with magical items. Back in the Ruins he identified the items that he did more from the fact that he wanted to fit in with the group and be helpful than anything else. “Very well,” he said, giving in. “But like I told you before, there’s not much I’ll be able to ascertain about them.”
“Fair enough!” exclaimed Chad. He drained his mug and set it on one of the crates on the floor. Then he looked to Kevik expectantly.
“Now?” he asked.
“Of course,” replied Chad.
Riyan drained his as well and together, he and Chad stood there waiting for him.
Sighing, Kevik nodded. “As you wish.” He indicated for them to precede him out the tower’s door.
When Riyan reached the door and opened it, a wicked wind whipped in and sent a chill straight through Kevik’s robes. Pulling them tighter, he moved to follow.
Outside the cold of the wind seemed to go right through the thick robe he was wearing. He may have to hunt through the manor house and see if he could find the winter clothes Allar had packed away last spring.
“Let’s hurry,” said Riyan. Pulling the hood of his jacket up to ward off the wind, he made his way across the open area between the tower and the manor. When he got to the door, he turned and looked at Kevik to make sure it was okay to open the door. Seeing Kevik nod, he opened it.
Chad and Kevik quickly followed him through after which he shut the door and silenced the wind. “Man it’s cold out there!” he exclaimed.
A light blossomed as Kevik created his new light spell. The motionless, spherical light was much preferable over the bobbing one he had inflicted upon them during their time in the Ruins.
“That’s much better,” commented Chad.
Kevik grinned. “It was the first thing I learned when I returned here,” he explained. “I knew we would be continuing our search and would in all probability have need of something like it again.”
He led them through the front room and then down the hallway. Coming to the door behind which were the stairs leading down to the basement, he spoke a word quietly.
That word, along with a dozen others, was used to activate and deactivate various security measures in place around the estate. Once the ward on the door was nullified, he opened it and led them downstairs.
“Why don’t you move the items to the tower?” asked Riyan. “Seeing as how you are there all the time, wouldn’t they be safer there?”
“You could leave the gold coins here,” added Chad. “Wouldn’t need them in the tower.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” he agreed.
At the bottom of the steps they entered the basement. There were a number of boxes stacked along one wall, within one could very well be the winter clothes he so desperately needed. Giving them a longing look, he moved to the door behind which was the small room where the magical items and the gold coins of the King were secreted.
He stopped and said yet another magical word before opening the door. Inside the room were two chests. One held the coins of the King and the other the magical items.
Kevik walked across the room to the chest holding the items.
Opening the lid, he turned to the others, “I don’t suppose anyone remembered to bring a sack did they?”
Riyan shook his head. “No,” he replied.
“Then we’ll have to carry them back.” Returning to the contents of the chest, he handed Riyan the sword and knife bearing the dragon-sword coat of arms. Then he handed him three necklaces and the box containing the two identical rings.
To Chad he handed the rune inscribed cloth pouch which contained what he believed to be a wand of some sort, and the box holding the gray powder. He scooped up the rest and put them in his pockets.
As he closed the lid, Riyan commented, “I forgot just how many of these there were.” Kevik nodded. “Keep in mind though, that some of these ‘treasures’ may in fact be traps for the unwary.” He turned to lead them out of the room and added, “Or may have enchantments of a less than desirable nature.”
“What would be an undesirable enchantment?” Riyan asked.
Once they were out, Kevik shut the door and reactivated the magical ward with a word. He glanced to Riyan and shrugged, “You’d be surprised what worthless magics with which people have magic users empower items. My master once ruminated on a broach he did for a lady that would remove warts from whoever wore it.” He laughed.
“He said that a simple scroll would have done the same thing and cost the woman less.” He led them up the stairs and closed the door at the top. After resetting the magical ward, he noticed the long face of Chad. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Chad held up the box and the wand. “These could be worthless,” he said rather unhappily.
“Always that possibility,” Kevik told him. “But keep in mind that though an enchanted item may have a worthless power for your needs, it still could bring a sum of coins if you found the right buyer.”
His eyes lit up at that. “Hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.
Riyan patted his lifelong friend on the back. “I’m sure something here will prove beneficial to us.”
“I hope so,” he said.
As they made their way through the manor to the front door, Riyan suddenly started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Chad asked.
“I was just imagining what would happen if one of these improved fertility,” he said with a chuckle. “There could be little Chads running around all over.” When Kevik laughed at that, Chad said, “That’s not funny.” Which of course only made Riyan and Kevik laugh harder. They knew how he liked the ladies.
At the front door, Kevik opened it for them and the wind almost whipped the door out of his hands. “I think the storm has worsened,” he said.
Indeed the force of the wind practically kept him from getting the door closed. If Riyan hadn’t helped him pull it shut, he might never have closed it. Pullin
g his inadequate robe tighter around himself, he hurried after the other two as they forged their way through the storm to the tower’s door. A quick word to disable the warding and they were inside.
Riyan and Chad both put their shoulders to the door and managed to get it shut. “Man what a wind!” commented Chad.
“The god’s must be angry today,” offered Riyan. It was well known that the gods influenced such things, depending on their whims and temperament.
They climbed the stairs to the top and Kevik removed the tome he had been perusing for information to clear a spot for the items. Once Riyan and Chad had placed what they were carrying on the table, Riyan said, “You start in on them and Chad and I will continue laying in more wood for you.”
Chad looked at him incredulously. “Are you crazy?” he asked. “In that wind?” Riyan nodded and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “He doesn’t have enough until our next ten-day and we can’t let him freeze.” As Chad allowed Riyan to draw him to the stairs, Kevik hollered, “I’ll have more tea ready for you.” They both groaned at the thought of drinking that stuff again before they entered the stairs and were gone.
Kevik went over to the pot on the fire and noticed that the water had been all but boiled out. He removed the pot and added more water from a water bucket sitting nearby before replacing it back on the fire. Returning to the table, he transferred all the items from the table before him to another that he pulled next to him. Then he took the ring he had found at the bottom of the shaft, the silver ring with a red stone and placed it before him on the table. He would begin with this one.
It was a plain silver ring with markings inscribed on the inner side of the band. The markings were in a language Kevik was unfamiliar with. He settled himself comfortably in the chair, and once he felt ready, began the spell. The ring started to shine with a blue glow as an image formed in his mind’s eye:
The ring rested on a table covered in runes. Magic flared as arcane powers entered the gem and the metal band… The image flickered. Flames surrounded it, wild flames, yet a feeling of peace and serenity there was… Again the scene changed. A hand bearing the ring was gripped by another. A flash of metal and the finger upon which the ring rode was struck from the hand.