The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde

by Brian S. Pratt

  “Never heard of it having a courtyard before though,” Tad stated.

  “Maybe that fact wasn’t worth mentioning,” suggested Chyfe.

  “Perhaps,” agreed Tad. “Doesn’t really pertain to the story so I’ll continue. When they arrived at Enoch’s Tower, that’s what this place is called by the way, they found only stone. No people, no furniture, nothing.”

  “You mean it was completely deserted?” Chad asked.

  “That’s what they say,” he replied. “While they were searching the Tower and grounds, one person found something that had belonged to one of the missing people.

  Further searching turned up other items, I believe there was even a footprint found, but no people, not even their bones.”

  “What happened to them?” queried Riyan.

  “The search continued,” he told them. “For weeks they hunted but came up with nothing. Finally the search was called off.” He repositioned himself in an attempt to alleviate the pain throbbing around the shaft of the arrow, but all he did was make his situation worse. Giving up, he lay there a moment to regain his composure before continuing.

  “Some believe that the searchers who combed the woods scared off whomever or whatever had taken the people, for the disappearances stopped.” He glanced at each in turn and could see they were hanging on his every word. “From time to time stories have emerged about something in the woods. One hunter claimed that while hunting, he saw a demon walking these woods but no proof was ever found to substantiate his story.”

  “What did it look like?” Riyan asked.

  “He said it stood roughly the height of a man and walked on two feet,” he explained.

  “The hunter only caught a brief glimpse of it, he thinks it may have had a tail. Anyway, when he saw the creature he turned and high tailed it back to town.”

  “So,” began Chyfe, “does everyone think this Tower is the demon’s home?” He gave a short chuckle as he waited for Tad’s response.

  “That’s the prevalent belief,” he admitted. “The area where the hunter claimed to have seen the demon was not too far away. Also, others have said they heard cries in the night that could only be called bestial and hellish when near this area of the woods.” He paused a moment before adding, “Just keep in mind. Something took those people, maybe this demon the hunter spoke of, or something else.” Just then the morning sun crested the eastern horizon and shone upon the upper reaches of the Tower. The sunlight drew Riyan’s eye and held it for a moment then he gave the Tower a closer look. “This is old,” he said. The stone that it was made of held many small cracks, though the stone still looked to have retained its strength.

  “There are no vines on the Tower,” observed Chad.

  Riyan looked around and saw what he meant. The outer walls of the courtyard all had vines growing along them, but the Tower was completely clean of them. “That’s odd,” he said.

  “It’s almost as if there’s something about the Tower the vines don’t like,” Chyfe said.

  “Wonder what’s inside?” mused Riyan. Turning his attention to the closed door, he wondered what might be found within.

  “A demon perhaps?” suggested Bart with a grin.

  “Or an evil spirit that doesn’t like to be disturbed,” suggested Kevik.

  “What about a magic user?” Chad asked Kevik.

  Shaking his head, Kevik replied, “I wouldn’t think so. First of all, there’s no indication anyone lives here. Secondly, even the most powerful magic user needs to use the jakes.” Glancing around the courtyard he asked, “Do you see or smell any?”

  “No,” said Chad after scanning the courtyard. “Maybe he used a spell to get rid of it?” Kevik actually chuckled at that. “Never heard a magic user wasting magic on something like that. No, I think the Tower is uninhabited.”

  “Riyan!” Seth hollered from the wall. “You better get up here.” They turned their attention to Seth and saw him pointing out to where Durik’s men were gathered. “I think they’re up to something.”

  “Be right up,” he said. Then turned back to Tad. “You just relax,” he told his instructor.

  Tad nodded and laid his head back on the pack he was using for a pillow.

  “Chad, you stay with him,” Riyan said to his friend. “The rest of you come with me.” As he began to head for the stairs leading up to the walkway on the wall, he heard Chyfe say to Chad, “He’s really taking to this being in command thing.” He didn’t catch Chad’s reply.

  Reaching the stair, he took the steps two at a time until he was on the walkway next to Seth. “What’s going on?” he asked. Turning his attention to where Durik and his men had begun setting up camp, he realized Durik didn’t have any intention of leaving.

  Seth pointed over to where Durik’s men had their horses tied. “Over there,” he said,

  “where the horses are tied.” When Riyan looked in that direction he added, “Just to the left of them.”

  Riyan peered where Seth was indicating. A tree that must have fallen some time ago was being used as a seat by a man. He was bent over and appeared to be writing. Several men were standing near him, Durik being one of them. “So?” he asked.

  “Didn’t you say that they had someone with scriber abilities?” Seth asked.

  “We think so,” nodded Riyan. By this time the others had joined him.

  “I think he’s making scrolls,” Seth said. Soth nodded agreement.

  Riyan turned to Kevik. “Could he be doing that here?” he asked.

  “It’s possible,” he replied. “All a scriber really needs is ink, a quill, and some parchment to make any scroll. And from the ones we recovered after the earlier attack back at the estate, I would think Seth is correct.”

  “That could become a serious problem,” Bart said.

  “Yes, it could,” agreed Kevik gravely. “Depending on his skill, we could be in serious trouble in a short time.”

  “Then he has to be stopped!” exclaimed Bart.

  “How?” asked Chyfe. “There’s no way we could kill him by bow from this distance.”

  “I’ll do it,” Bart said. The others looked to him as if he was crazy.

  “You’d never make it,” Soth argued. “Look.” He then proceeded to point out four men, each of whom was far enough away that bows would be ineffective against them.

  From their positions, any attempt to leave the Tower would be instantly discovered.

  Bart looked at them for a minute then said, “Irregardless, that scriber has to be stopped.” Turning to Riyan he added, “Let me out the gate and I’ll take care of it.” Still wearing the Cloak of Concealment, he pantomimed putting the hood on and closing the front of the cloak.

  “Alright,” Riyan agreed. “Chyfe, you come with us. The rest of you stay up here and keep watch. If someone comes close, launch an arrow in their direction.”

  “Be careful,” advised Kevik.

  Bart nodded and then headed to the stair. Once down on the ground, he walked over to the gate with Riyan and Chyfe right behind. Coming to a stop before the gate, he knelt down and removed the rolled leather containing his darts. “Give me a minute to get ready,” he told the other two.

  “As you wish,” Riyan said.

  “What’s going on?” asked Chad as he came over from where he had been sitting with Tad.

  Riyan summarized Bart’s plan for him while Bart doctored the tips of his darts with his most toxic poison. “Are you going to take out Durik as well?” asked Riyan.

  “If I get the chance,” replied Bart as he applied poison to another dart. Durik has been nothing but trouble for them and he’d like nothing better than to rid themselves of the man.

  Chad noticed Riyan looking over to Tad and said, “He’s okay, considering the wound.”

  “I don’t know how we’re going to get him back to a healer,” Riyan replied sadly.

  “The return journey through the woods is going to finish him.”

  “I know, but what else can we do?�
�� Chad asked.

  Riyan shrugged. “I don’t know.

  “Is he still losing blood?” asked Bart. Replacing the last dart to be doctored back into the rolled leather, he tucked the leather into his shirt and stood up. In his right hand he held one dart, its tip glistened with poison.

  “Some,” replied Chad. “The shaft of the arrow is acting like a plug. Blood seeps around the wound, but when he moves, there’s more.”

  “That might kill him too,” Bart told them. To Chad he said, “See if you can pack cloth or something around the wound to slow down the blood loss even further.”

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  “And keep him still,” urged Riyan.

  As Bart nodded to Riyan that he was ready, Chad headed back over to Tad. “Open the gate just enough to let me slip through,” he told his friend. “With any luck they’ll not notice what we’re doing.”

  “You got it,” Riyan said. Then he and Chyfe went to the bar and began sliding it from across the door. He glanced up at Seth on the wall after the bar had been slid all the way to the side. Seth gave him the all clear. Riyan and Chyfe then took hold of the door and pulled it slowly open.

  Bart slipped the hood of the cloak over his head and pulled the front closed. Chyfe was still slightly shocked when Bart disappeared, even though he had been expecting it.

  Once the opening was wide enough, Bart slipped through.

  Riyan and Chyfe immediately pushed the door closed again. As they began sliding the bar back across the door, Riyan glanced up to Seth and saw him give a thumb’s up to indicate that no one had noticed.

  The first thing Bart did after slipping through the gate was to make sure the four men on watch hadn’t seen anything. The two closest to him were looking up at the twins on the wall and made no indication they had noticed the opening and closing of the gate.

  Smiling to himself, he made his way toward the camp Durik and his men were setting up.

  Hidden as he was by the Cloak of Concealment, he passed one of the four men set to watch the Tower by only a few feet. Taking it slow, he moved past the man cautiously and then quickened his pace once again on his way toward the man whom they believed to be scriber.

  “Don’t like being here,” he overheard one of Durik’s men say to another. The man looked to be a hardened fighter who had seen many a battle, yet fear was in his eyes.

  “This whole place is cursed,” another mumbled. The men cast glances over to where Durik stood with the scriber, then to the Tower.

  Bart noticed fear, or at least worry, on almost all the faces he passed. Now that he was among them, he had to move much slower. As he wended his way through the men, he had to make sure he didn’t run into, or be run into, by any of them. One misstep and he would be a dead man. As he came to within ten feet of Durik and the scriber, he could hear Durik talking to the man.

  “Can’t you write any faster?” he asked rather impatiently. “We need to have this done and be out of the woods by nightfall.”

  Without looking up from his scribing, the scriber replied, “If you rush me and I make one small mistake, it won’t work.” He paused in his scribing and looked up at Durik. “Or have an altogether unexpected result. Remember the Fire Flash incident.”

  “You don’t have to remind me,” Durik said. He turned his attention from the scriber and back toward the Tower.

  Bart’s heart stopped as Durik turned his eyes directly upon him. Then he calmed down when he realized he was looking through him to the Tower. Despite the calm certainty he was attempting to exhibit for his men, there were worry lines around his eyes as well. It would be so easy to kill Durik right now, but the scriber has to be his first concern.

  A man came up behind Bart on his way to Durik. Bart barely noticed in time and dodged to the side just as the man walked through the space he had just occupied. He then began reporting to Durik. “The men are restless,” he said.

  “I know that,” replied Durik. “Tell them they’ll get a bonus after this.”

  “Not sure how much longer a bonus is going to hold them here,” he said. Glancing back to the Tower he said, “This place is unnerving.” Bart moved around the pair on his way to the scriber, casting glances all around to prevent another from sneaking up on him again. He made sure to give Durik and the man plenty of space.

  “I’ll kill any man that flees,” Durik said in a low tone. The other man simply stared at him.

  The scriber was now five feet away. He was bent over a three foot by two foot flat piece of wood that he was using as a makeshift table. With quill in hand, he was inscribing magical symbols upon a piece of parchment. Over two thirds of the parchment was already covered in symbols and writing.

  Sitting on the ground beside him was a closed satchel. Sticking out from under the satchel’s flap was a rolled piece of parchment. Whatever scrolls he has already completed must be contained within that satchel. Bart moved to a position where he was directly behind the fallen tree upon which the scriber sat.

  He glanced around one more time before moving closer to the scriber. When he was but two feet away from the man’s back, the scriber looked up to Durik and said, “Done.” He held out the scroll for Durik to take.

  “This will cause a poisonous fume?” asked Durik, as he moved forward to take the scroll.

  “That’s right,” replied the scriber.

  Durik held up the scroll then turned it over to see the activation word written on the back. Nodding, he looked to the scriber. “How long to have three more completed?” he asked.

  “About an hour,” the scriber answered.

  “Get to it then,” Durik said. Then he turned to the other man he had been talking with.

  Holding up the scroll he said, “Four of these should fill the inside of that courtyard with enough poisonous fumes to kill them all.”

  “Don’t you want to interrogate them?” the man asked.

  “Not any more,” he replied. “I just want them dead. Besides, there’s always a possibility that one will survive.”

  Bart turned hate filled eyes to Durik. Never before had he wanted someone dead as he did him. But he wouldn’t let his emotions drive him to a course of action that might jeopardize the removal of the scriber. He waited there hidden by the cloak until Durik and the man began moving away from the scriber.

  Sensing the time was right, he moved still closer to the scriber. As he came to stand just behind the man and was about to strike, he saw that the scriber had just finished writing a word in the upper left hand corner of the parchment. Bart looked at the word closely and grinned. It was the activation word for the scroll.

  When they had collected the scrolls from the dead men who had attacked Kevik’s estate, they too had the activation words written on the upper left hand corner on the back. And if memory served, similar scrolls bore the same activation word. He now knew how to activate the scroll that Durik held. Such knowledge would definitely come in handy. But first things first, he had to remove the threat the scriber posed.

  Still gripping one of the darts in his right hand, he took a step to cover the distance to just behind the scriber. A twig under his boot cracked and he froze. The scriber paused in his scribing and glanced over his shoulder. When he failed to see anything, he returned to his work.

  Bart waited a moment for him to become engrossed once again in the scroll he was working on. Then after a quick glance around to make sure Durik and the others weren’t looking in this direction, he struck.

  A quick thrust with his dart into the area of the man’s right armpit. He felt the point of the dart pass through the man’s clothes and into his skin. The scriber jerked and made a little sound as Bart pulled the dart forth.

  Durik turned at the man’s quiet cry just as the makeshift table the scriber had on his lap fell to the ground. “Erzyn!” he shouted as he rushed to the man’s side. He caught the scriber as he tilted to the side and began to slide off the trunk. “Erzyn!” he cried again as he laid him on the ground. Duri
k looked in shock at the lifeless eyes that stared up at him.

  “What happened to him?” Durik’s man asked.

  “I don’t know,” he replied. He did a quick check for any sign of injuries, but failed to notice where the dart had entered the man’s body.

  “It was the demon!” cried out one man.

  “The demon has come for us!” another shouted.

  Unable to safely strike at Durik due to the number of men gathered around him, Bart quickly backed away as the camp erupted into chaos. Others joined in proclaiming the coming of the demon. It took every bit of Durik’s commanding ability to keep his men from fleeing into the forest. Fear was running rampant among them.

  Bart broke into a run for the Tower. As he drew closer, Bart looked up at the ramparts and saw Riyan standing there with the others. He could tell they were grinning and commenting to each other about what he had done. At least they had the foresight not to announce to Durik that they were behind the death of the scriber with joyous shouting.

  When he came near the wall he glanced back at Durik’s camp. It was still in an uproar but Durik was beginning to regain order. The four men who had been set to watch the Tower had returned to the camp to see what was going on.

  “Riyan!” Bart shouted just loud enough for his voice to carry to the top of the wall.

  “Open the gate.”

  Riyan took but a moment to look down at the where the voice was coming from before nodding. Turning towards the stair he, Chyfe, and Soth hurried down to the gate.

  In short order the bar was slid back and the gate cracked open.

  Bart slipped in before pulling back the hood of the cloak and reappearing.

  “Nice work,” Riyan said as the gate swung shut and the bar was being pulled back.