The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde

by Brian S. Pratt

“Can you hear me?” he asked aloud. He took the thumb of the hand which bore the ring and began rubbing its band as he concentrated on Bart. “Can you hear me?” Bart remained unresponsive. “Bart,” he said as he continued rubbing the ring with his thumb, “Can you hear me? If you do, wave your arm.” He looked out the window, hoping to see Bart wave back at him. Again, he continued sitting upon his horse motionless.

  Kevik closed his eyes, thought about Bart. Then he spoke in his mind: Bart, wave your arm. He opened his eyes and saw Bart begin waving his arm. “Yes!” he cried out.

  Calming himself, he closed his eyes and again thought of Bart. Come on back. Opening his eyes again, he saw Bart returning to the tower. He practically skipped in his excitement. Racing down the stairs, he exited the tower before Bart had made it back.

  “Did you hear me?” Bart asked as he rode up to where Kevik was waiting for him.

  “No,” Kevik replied. “But I think I saw in my mind what you were seeing.”

  “How does it work?” he asked.

  “I believe the magic is activated when one of the two people wearing the rings thinks of the other,” he stated. “I was rubbing the ring as I thought of you, though I’m still not sure if that’s a part of the activation process or not.” Bart secured his horse and they walked back into the tower. “So we can send our thoughts and what we see back and forth?” he asked.

  “It would seem so,” replied Kevik. “It may take some time before we have it mastered.”

  “These may come in handy when we resume our search for the remaining segments of the key,” commented Bart.

  When they returned to the third floor, Kevik held out his hand for the ring Bart wore.

  He gave it up reluctantly. “I don’t plan on wearing the other so it would do you no good,” explained Kevik. “Can’t have your thoughts intruding upon mine at a crucial point during an incantation.”

  Bart glanced around at the blasted remains of the workroom and nodded.

  Kevik replaced them in the small box and returned them to the chest.

  “What else did you find out?” questioned Bart.

  Kevik turned around and saw him looking at the other items resting on the bottom of the chest on the side where he placed the box. “I didn’t get all of them,” he explained.

  Pointing to the ones next to the box he said, “Just these.” He picked up the ruby and said, “This has healing properties. It cured a headache I had after the encounter with the trapped magical item.” Putting it back in, he drew forth the ring with the red stone. “I believe this one may protect the wearer against fire.” He held it out to Bart, “Care to test it for me?”

  “Uh, no,” he replied. For the only way to test it would be to put it on and try to burn yourself in some way.

  Kevik grinned and put it back in the chest.

  “What about the rest of them?” he asked.

  “I’ll see about them once I finish my staff,” he said. Closing the lid, he stood up and turned to face him. “That needs to be the first order of business for me if we don’t wish to see our two fellows sent off down south for awhile.”

  “I understand,” Bart replied. “You need me to help you clean this up?” Glancing around the room, he could see that there was still a ways to go before this room would be restored to its original state of order.

  “I would appreciate that.” As Kevik picked up the broom to do a more thorough job on the floor, Bart began straightening the overturned furniture and removing the broken table by the top of the stairs. It took them an hour, but they managed to restore the room fairly close to the way it was before the blast.

  Chapter Twelve

  _______________________

  Later that night after a brief meal of stale bread and meat that was about to turn bad, Bart was up in his room within the manor house. Several rooms contained fireplaces and his was no exception.

  He stood at the window which overlooked Kevik’s tower and observed the light in the third story window indicating Kevik was again working on his spell. Behind him a fire roared in the fireplace, a stack of wood which he had brought up from what had been piled within the first floor of the tower earlier that evening sat beside it.

  Bart admired Kevik’s devotion to his craft, they were alike in that respect. Before the debacle with the attempted overthrow of his father, Bart had worked with the best his Guild had to offer to perfect his skills in the arts of the Shadowed Path. In fact, he had almost reached the point where there was nothing more that could be learned from them.

  That was when he had met Gerrick, the man whom he backed in the failed coup. He had taught him things which his father had frowned upon, such as forgery. Cut from a different mold, he saw in Gerrick someone who could further the influence and prominence of the Thieves Guild with greater skill than had his father. And that was why he had backed him as he had.

  Bart sighed. Gerrick had gone to ground shortly after the coup failed and none had heard from him since. Not for the first time the question of where he was crossed his mind.

  Turning from the window, he went to the bed and made ready for sleep. Tomorrow he planned to pay a visit to the Warriors Guild and let Chad and Riyan know what they planned to do. He placed a few more logs on the fire and then quickly slipped under the covers. The room was still quite chilly despite the fire roaring not ten feet away. Before drifting off to sleep, he wondered how Kevik could stand being in the cold of the tower.

  Kevik was burning the midnight oil as it were. Before him was the charred manuscript which held the explanation of the symbols Bart had supplied. He had been greatly relieved when he discovered it had survived the blast earlier that day. What he would have done if it had been destroyed he didn’t even want to contemplate.

  There were five key symbols he had problems with which were integral to the spell of infusing the staff with magic, three of them he has already mastered. The attempt to master the third one had precipitated the explosion. His former master had stressed repeatedly the need to speak each word properly, that to deviate even minutely could prove disastrous. Kevik hadn’t really taken that warning very seriously, that was not until he had almost died because of it.

  The final two symbols were proving to be quite tricky despite the words of advice provided by Bart’s friend. More than once he wished he still had the guiding hand of his master to lead him through. But as his master once said, ‘To wish for what can never be is a waste of time better spent on the matter at hand.’

  He leaned back in his chair and stretched. As a yawn escaped him he came to the conclusion that he was through for the day. Only a foolish magic user would practice magic when tired, too easy to misspeak a critical word.

  Getting up from his chair, he debated whether to return to the manor house or not. In this new robe he had found in his master’s old room, he didn’t feel the cold nearly as bad as he had in his old one. It wasn’t due to any magical properties, simply that it was thicker and of better quality.

  He glanced to the shuttered window and knew he would have to brave the cold outside if he were to gain the manor house, and the added warmth it would afford him. It didn’t take him long to come to the conclusion that the tower really wasn’t all that bad.

  So throwing a few more logs on the fire, he pulled his cot out from the other room and placed it in close proximity to the fireplace before settling in for the night.

  Unfortunately sleep eluded him as he laid there. His mind was too full of the spell he was working on. Before he even realized it, a couple hours had passed and sleep was still an unobtainable goal. The fire had subsided, the glow from the few flames still working to turn the wood into ash among the coals gave the room a reddish glow.

  Seeing as how he was still awake, he figured he had better get up and put a couple more logs on the fire to maintain the warmth for as long as possible. He pulled the cover off him and sat up on the side of the cot. When his feet connected with the cold stone of the floor, a shiver went through him. Man it wa
s cold! As he came to his feet he realized that winter hadn’t even arrived yet.

  Kevik shuffled quickly to the woodpile stacked near the fireplace and placed several additional logs on the fire before returning to his cot. No sooner had he sat down than the window overlooking the area between the tower and the manor house was abruptly illuminated by a flash of bright light. A man’s cry was heard at the same time.

  Leaping to his feet, he raced to the window and threw open the shutters. A cold breeze hit him as he looked out at the scene below. A glow surrounded a man standing in the area between the manor and the tower. At first he thought it might have been Bart who had triggered the defensive magics of the place but quickly realized it was another.

  The man was frozen, held immobile by the spell surrounding him.

  Thoughts of the men Bart had said might be coming flashed through his mind. Kevik scanned the area but could see neither associates of the man nor the man’s steed should he have arrived on horseback. Though he saw no one, he didn’t dismiss the possibility that others could be about. What if they had gained the tower itself?

  He immediately turned away from the window and looked to the head of the stairwell leading down. They could be just below! Kevik quietly closed the shutter to keep out the wind, then made his way to the top of the stairwell. He went through his repertoire of spells but found that he didn’t have much that would help him in this situation. Just his

  ‘goo spell’ and the energy missiles, those he kept on the ‘tip of his tongue’ as it were while he moved ever closer to the top of the stairs.

  When he reached the stairwell, he slowly peered into the darkness below but couldn’t see or hear anything. His first inclination was to call out to see if anyone was there. He quickly stifled that urge. If someone was there they wouldn’t very well be announcing their presence if he asked.

  There was nothing for it, he had to know. Casting his new light spell, he made it appear further down the stairs. As the light blossomed to life, he listened for any movement below that would indicate someone was there. Not hearing anything, he moved to the stairs and began descending to the second level. Step by slow step he made his way down to the second level and gained it without incident.

  Then just as he did before descending to the second level, he again created a light down on the first floor. Once more he failed to hear anything. Moving quicker this time, he reached the bottom and quickly scanned about for any sign of intruders.

  The door was closed and the bar was still set in the locked position. He was confident no one had gained the tower. Kevik quickly crossed to the door and undid the lock.

  Before he opened it, he braced himself for the possibility of attack. Seeing as how there were no windows here on the ground floor, he wasn’t able to tell if the coast was clear.

  He was simply going to have to chance that it was. Opening the door slightly, he peered outside.

  Where the man had been incased within the magical glow that had held him, there was now only darkness. Moments of illumination would come when the clouds above parted and allowed the moonlight through. Shortly after he began peering through to the outside, one such moment of illumination allowed him to see that the front door to the manor was open. They were in the manor. Bart! He may not realize what’s going on.

  Throwing open the door, he raced outside towards the manor to warn him. Too late did he notice the man who had been standing just to the side of the door. Before he could get a spell out he was struck on the head with a club and was knocked senseless to the ground.

  Ever a light sleeper, Bart was instantly awake when the man cried out. He bolted to his window and looked out to find the man encased in a yellowish glow. One of the defenses of the estate had been triggered. Durik! Though he didn’t recognize the man snared by the trap as one of Durik’s men, he knew the man was here because of him.

  Before turning from the window he saw the silhouette of Kevik in the third floor window as he looked out towards the trapped man. At least he didn’t have to worry about Kevik being taken out yet. Of course, there was nothing that said these men had violence on their minds. Yet it was always prudent to plan for, and expect, the worst.

  Moving away from the window, he grabbed the rolled leather containing his picks from the table by his bed and slipped it within his shirt. Next to it sat the one containing his darts. He opened that one and removed five darts. In a matter of minutes he had them doctored with liquid from one of the vials and was moving towards the door of his room.

  With four darts held in his left and another in the right, he kept the rest within the rolled leather nestled within his shirt next to his picks.

  He paused a moment at the door and listened for any indication that someone was on the other side. When all he heard was silence, he slowly opened the door and peered out into the darkened hallway on the other side. Not seeing anyone, he moved out and made his way to the top of the stairs.

  Just as he stepped upon the first step, the front door to the manor opened. Bart froze where he was, his eyes locked onto the door as it swung open. Two figures passed through. One turned down a hallway leading further into the house while the other headed for the stairs.

  Bart immediately backed up and plastered himself against the side of the hallway at the top of the stairs, adjacent to the stairwell. He remained quiet as the stairs creaked under the weight of the man ascending to the second level. Holding himself ready to strike, he waited until the man reached the top.

  In the blink of an eye, Bart moved as soon as the man stepped foot upon the second floor. He grabbed him around the throat with his left arm, constricting his windpipe to prevent him from crying out. With his right hand, he plunged the tip of the dart into the man’s chest. It took only half a minute before the poison stilled the man’s heart and Bart felt him go limp. Lowering him to the floor, he glanced downstairs to see if the other man heard the commotion at the top of the stairs. When he failed to appear, Bart quickly took the steps down to the first floor.

  Stepping silently and quickly, he crossed to the hallway down which the man had gone. He paused but a moment at the mouth of the hallway and peered down. In the darkness, he couldn’t see anything. With a last glance to the open front door to make sure reinforcements weren’t arriving for the two men, he entered the hallway.

  From up ahead, he could hear the tell-tale sounds of someone moving around, a barely audible grunt here, a creak of a floorboard there. He moved down to the doorway from which the sounds were emanating. Merely a foot from the door, he came to a sudden stop when the man appeared before him.

  A gasp of surprise was all the man got out before Bart launched his attack. Another quick thrust with a doctored dart and the man was soon lying still on the floor of the hallway. Bart held still and listened to the sounds of the estate. All he could hear was the sound of the wind outside.

  He replaced the dart he used to kill the man with one of the others in his left hand before moving to the front door. Keeping against the wall, he moved until he could peer through the opening to the outside. It was dark. The glow from where the man had been held in one of Allar’s traps was gone. Somehow, he had been freed of its grip.

  Shadows moved around the estate, he could see there were at least six separate men out there. He glanced to the tower and saw light emanating from the second story window. Bart was wondering what that could mean just as a crack of light disturbed the light as the tower’s door began to open.

  Kevik no! He silently shouted the warning in his mind. How he wished he and Kevik were wearing the two rings that allowed them to communicate over distances. Bart watched as one of the shadows moved along the tower’s wall until it came to within a foot of the opening.

  He watched as Kevik glanced around and then made to run towards the manor house.

  He only took a step before the man next to the door clubbed him into unconsciousness.

  Bart was already out the door of the manor house as the shadow moved into the ligh
t coming from the door. The shadow was a man Bart didn’t recognize.

  The man who had struck Kevik was joined by two others. They lifted Kevik from the ground and began carrying him towards the lane leading from the estate. As the three men faded back into the darkness, Bart saw another man enter the tower. That left only two others out in the darkness.

  Bart held still against the wall of the manor house several feet down from the door.

  Scanning the darkness, he hunted for the two remaining men that were still outside. The men kept their silence which surprised him. Perhaps they knew he was at the estate as well and didn’t wish to tip their hand until they knew he was neutralized.

  Then from the corner of his eye, he saw one of the men off to his right. The man was heading for the door of the estate which was no more than a few feet away from where Bart was standing. He readied the dart in his right hand, and when the man was but ten feet away, threw it. The dart flew true and struck the man in the leg. Bart didn’t want him dead right away.

  “I’m hit!” the man cried out. His leg gave way as the poison shorted out his nervous system on its way to the heart.

  Bart allowed the man to continue crying for aid as he scanned the darkness for movement which would indicate that his partner was on the way to help. When he saw a shadow moving towards the man crying for help, he threw another dart. This time, the dart struck the man square in the chest and felled him quickly. He didn’t require this man’s cry to flush the last four out, he knew where they were.

  He left his darts in the two men. The one who had initially been crying out started to grow quiet as the poison reached his diaphragm and heart, interrupting their functions.

  Bart glanced up at the tower as he pulled forth the rolled leather containing his other darts. He could see the silhouette of the man who had entered the tower as he looked out from the third floor window.

  “He’s by the front door!” the man cried out as he pointed towards where Bart was standing. Whether he could see Bart or simply assumed where he was based on the earlier cries of the dead man, Bart couldn’t tell.