Prince Andre opened the tube without hesitation and took out the message. The only son of the king in Cayleon turned the parchment toward the lamplight as he sat on the edge of the couch. He immediately stood up slowly and walked to the fire. “Can you read this, Hasdel?”
“I cannot,” replied Hasdel.
“I cannot either, but do you recognize the seal of death?”
“I do,” answered Hasdel.
“And your young friend, too?” asked Prince Andre.
“Yes, he has seen it,” said Hasdel. Remembering he had not introduced Kalo, Hasdel said, “I am sorry, my prince. This is Kalo, a Riverlok villager.”
Prince Andre had not looked directly at Kalo until now. He turned to him. “Mallivar, or whoever sent this message, has sentenced you to die, Riverman.”
“Yes, I know,” said Kalo. The conversation was not going as Kalo had wished. He had hoped Hasdel would barter for his life with Mallivar, but instead he was standing before the son of King Lathos, acknowledging that he had been sentenced to die.
“It is written in the ancient tongue of the monks, Hasdel, is it not?” said Prince Andre as he walked back to the couch. Hasdel did not answer, for the prince was not finished. “This is not good, Hasdel.” He paused. “You were right in bringing it to me, my friend. What do you make of it?”
“It is evil, my prince,” said the gava gravely. “I can feel it.”
“Do you think this is related to our problems with the gnolls to the north?” asked Prince Andre.
“Possibly. If only we knew what it says,” said Hasdel.
“We can find out,” said the prince. Straightening up, he continued, “We must get the message to Lamus of Melda. The monk can read the message, and he has no loyalty to Mallivar, I know that much.” He rolled the parchment up tightly, reinserted it in the silver tube, and replaced the cap. “Hasdel, can you find him?”
“I saw an old friend, a hunter named Quillen, three days out. He was headed for Riverlok. He usually stays at the North Star Inn. He will know how to find Lamus,” answered Hasdel.
“Good. Go to him,” said Prince Andre as he handed the silver tube back to Hasdel. Hasdel quickly passed the tube to Kalo. Andre paid no attention to the exchange and continued talking. “Lamus should recognize you as a messenger of the king. I have seen him on a few occasions. He’s very short.” He held out his hand at arm’s length as if to touch the top of the monk’s head. Kalo measured taller than the monk did. Prince Andre continued. “He is a recluse, you know. Hermit is probably more accurate. Ageless, too.” The prince’s thoughts drifted off momentarily, and he was silent. He then said quickly, “My father spoke highly of Lamus. He will help us.” Hasdel nodded. The prince quickly removed his ring from his hand. “Here, show the monk this ring of my father’s so that there is no mistake that you come from us.” Prince Andre now turned to Kalo. “Are you willing to go, too?”
“Yes, sir,” the stunned young thief could only say. He did not fully understand the exchange between the prince and the gava, but if it meant putting distance between himself and the septor downstairs, he was definitely in agreement.
“I think it is best. Don’t you agree, Hasdel? Mallivar will hunt him down. He needs to be taken out of the city,” said the prince.
“Yes, I agree,” answered the gava. “I will look after him. But I am also concerned about you, my prince. I urge you to end your visit here and return to Cayleon.”
“Thank you, Hasdel. I will consider it. And I will craft a letter to the king about our talk tonight and call for a messenger,” said Prince Andre. “Now, off with the two of you. I still have a story to read.” He smiled. The two friends, prince and gava, clasped hands and then forearms. “Leave through that door—it will lead you to a seldom used gate in the wall. There are no guards there.”
Hasdel looked at Kalo briefly in his gray raiment of the Realmsguard. “We will get you something to wear in town. Now we are off.”
“Wait!” said the prince. He turned and went swiftly to his satchel, which hung on the wall alongside his sword. He returned, his head down, rummaging through the bag as he walked. “Here it is, a gift to me as a small boy from an elven prince.” He held out a tiny flask. “The elf said that if I ever needed to travel as quickly as an elf for a noble purpose, I should put a drop of this potion on my tongue and I could run with the speed of an elf. I have kept it as a remembrance all these years,” said Prince Andre. A gentle smile came to his face. “As a boy, I once tried it, but it did not make me run any faster. I still lost the race.” The prince then turned to Hasdel, his face at once older. “As that young boy, my motives were not entirely just. But with all my heart I believe this vial contains elven magic, my good friend. Use it to find Lamus the Monk,” he said, and placed the tiny container in the gava’s hand.
In silence, Hasdel raised a closed fist to his chest and nodded to the prince. Prince Andre returned the salute. Then the gava and the young thief left the chambers of the king’s only son and descended the back staircase into the night.
The two figures stood still in the shadow of the Compound. The gava scanned the open yard about them. Kalo hugged the wall and clung to Hasdel’s shoulder. He felt cold again as the chill in the night air found him, and he wondered why they weren’t moving.
“What’s wrong?” whispered Kalo.
“I sense something is near.” The gava tilted his head and listened for a few more seconds. “I suppose I am wrong.”
Hasdel motioned for Kalo to follow, and the two made their way across the yard to the wall tower. They did not speak, nor did they run, as Kalo wanted to. They walked quickly, Kalo a step or two behind the gava. When they reached the wall, Hasdel turned and walked close to the divide, his hand extended to touch the logs, feeling his way. The gate was surprisingly easy to find, and Kalo was relieved. Something was going right for a change. Hasdel, without speaking, took out his dagger and inserted it into the gate doorjamb. He slid it up, then down. He replaced the dagger, lifted the latch, and pushed the gate open.
The two stepped outside the walls of the Compound and swiftly made their way toward the scattered houses at the edge of Riverlok. Clear, open fields surrounded the Compound for a hundred yards in every direction. An orchard line at the border of the fields separated the King’s Compound from the dwellings of the villagers. There remained only three or four hours until dawn. The two moved quickly.
As they hurried through the dense rows of trees, a massive figure dropped behind them from a bare limb. It fell to the ground and lay prone. The sound of its landing was lost in the crackling rustle of the leaves trod by the two runners. The figure slowly rose and began to follow.
Hasdel broke into a quick trot as soon as he cleared the orchard. Kalo followed closely behind. They came to the end of the dirt path and the edge of the city street. The soft leather of the gava’s boots against the cobblestone street gave off a muffled sound, like a scrubwoman sanding a doorway. Kalo became conscious of how much louder he sounded running behind the gava, so he began to run on his toes as the two shuffled down the city streets.
The young Riverman felt exhilarated as he ran. The cool night air splashed his face, and his short brown hair bounced with each step. He moved in perfect stride with the gava, almost as a miniature reflection. Kalo had not told Hasdel about Ty; there had not been time. He hoped Ty had been spared the ordeal that had befallen him, but now his thoughts centered on his own safety. The running pair made a few turns down dark alleyways and unlit side streets. Although Kalo did not know their destination, he dutifully followed.
Hasdel suddenly stopped as they turned the corner of a narrow street. He reached out to catch Kalo and pulled the young thief against the wall. Kalo felt the power of the messenger’s arm like a horse soldier reining in his steed. Hasdel placed a finger to his lips, and Kalo struggled to silence his heavy breathing.
The gava looked back up the street. Without turning to Kalo, he spoke quietly. “We are being followed.”
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Kalo’s throat went dry.
Chapter 9
Hasdel grabbed Kalo’s shirt and pulled him into stride as the two resumed their sprint down the street. Once again, Kalo followed. Their pace quickened, and this time Kalo could no longer run in step. He lost his stride as though his legs had suddenly become shorter. The gava led him through the dark streets, cutting one way, then the other, but always down the slight grade heading toward the southeast edge of Riverlok. Kalo now knew their destination was the riverfront, further downstream toward the Southgate Bridge. Despite the turns, they raced almost due west across the southern section of the city.
Kalo looked back, and in the bright moonlight, he faintly saw a large hulking mass lumbering in the distance. He thought he could hear it, too—or was it his own heart, beating louder? Whatever the being, it made no effort to conceal itself as it steadily gained on them like a charging bull thundering across a field. The massive figure lagged less than a block behind, and the sound of its relentless pursuit grew louder.
Kalo spurted forward alongside Hasdel. “It’s getting closer!” he cried.
Hasdel, rounding the next corner, quickly turned about to face the pursuer. With one arm, he motioned Kalo behind him. In the other hand, he held the long sword drawn from his scabbard. Kalo slid past the gava and pressed himself against the wall. He, too, drew his dagger from his boot. They both crouched, chests heaving from the run, and waited for the inevitable like two cornered animals.
The pursuer’s footbeats grew louder as its image in Kalo’s mind grew larger. All at once, it stood in the alley entranceway, silhouetted against the faint lantern light. The shadow stood, man-sized, bulky about the head and shoulders. The dark form stopped at the sight of the two. Hasdel inched forward, ready to spring. Kalo squinted in the moonlight. Something about the form looked familiar. Kalo’s exceptional vision once again was tested.
“Ty?” called Kalo.
“Yes,” answered a breathless voice, “it’s me.”
Kalo went to Ty. The two friends, with their arms outstretched on each other’s shoulders, fell wearily to the street. Ty let the large pack he carried on his shoulders fall to the ground between them. Hasdel sheathed his sword, leaned against the wall, and smiled down at the two boys who lay exhausted in the alleyway like puppies fatigued from play. The cool air now felt good to Kalo.
“Why were you chasing us?” said Kalo in a laughing voice.
“I wasn’t chasing you! I was trying to catch up to you. At least I was hoping it was you,” Ty said.
“Why didn’t you holler at us?” asked Kalo.
“I did once, way back at the beginning.” Ty gestured back up the street. “I saw one of you look back, but you kept running. So I kept running.” Their voices triggered a rolling barrage of barking dogs that the boys ignored.
“How did you catch up to us?” continued Kalo, somewhat indignant.
Ty did not answer directly. He then said, “Well, when you came out of the orchard, you two were headed as straight toward the river as anyone could. When you began to weave through the city, I decided I could never catch you by just following you every which way, so I headed toward where I thought you were going.” Ty shrugged. “The riverfront.”
“Don’t lose that instinct, lad,” Hasdel inserted, still leaning against the building wall. “That is the gift of a natural tracker.”
Ty lifted his head to see the face of the gava.
“Oh, Ty,” said Kalo, “this is Hasdel.” Hasdel extended his hand to Ty, who took it in friendship. “Hasdel, this is Tythan Pree.” Kalo turned back to Ty. “Hasdel took me into the Compound. We saw the man the purse belonged to, but he didn’t recognize me. His name is Mallivar. They call him the Septor, the Grand Scholar of the Realm.” As the reality of the night’s events raced through Kalo’s mind, the tone of his voice rose. “Hasdel believes the septor would kill me. The purse Nikki snatched contained a silver tube with a secret message.”
“It is far worse than I thought, too,” confirmed Ty. “When we parted at the Kingfisher, I went back to the loft.” He took a deep breath. “It’s bad, Kalo. The others told me they knew my name and were looking for me because I could lead them to you.” Again, he paused. “Here are your clothes,” he said as he kicked the bulky pack on the ground. “I figured we’d be on the run, so I brought our traveling gear.”
“Good thinking, Ty,” said Kalo. “Oh, and I also met Prince Andre. He wants to help us.”
“Truly? You talked to the prince?”
Kalo nodded. “How did you find us?”
“I tracked back to the Kingfisher Inn and followed the tall man in the black and scarlet robe.”
“That’s Mallivar,” said Kalo.
Hasdel pushed himself away from the wall and spoke up. “Your friend’s life is in danger, Ty, and apparently yours is as well. Mallivar would do more to you than ask questions.” Hasdel owned the full attention of both boys. “Now,” he said, “let us not delay any longer.”
Ty picked up the bulky pack and threw it over his shoulders. Kalo stood, too. “Ty, how is Nikki? Do you know? I gave him to the table girl.”
“Lucky ferret,” said Ty.
“I spoke to the girl; she is fine. So, too, is your little thief.” Hasdel smiled in the dark, then turned and renewed his run toward the river.
They moved in single file with Hasdel leading the way like three deer running through a wood. They did not talk; only the faint padding of their footsteps broke the stillness of the night. Occasionally a loose brick in the road would send a crack echoing through the darkness, to be answered by a dog barking behind a closed door.
In time they came upon the North Star Inn. Hasdel motioned the two into the alleyway. “Stay here. I need to see if the bridge is open.” He then vanished into the dark.
The two young fugitives leaned against the alley wall opposite one another. In the faint moonlight, they could barely make out each other’s features. They remained silent. Then Ty extended his hand across the alleyway. Kalo met it with his own, and they shook hands without a word spoken, though much had been said. They slipped back into the shadows, slid down the opposite alley walls to the ground, and remained there, lost in their own thoughts in the darkness.
Sentenced to die, thought Kalo. How did this ever happen?
Chapter 10
The two young fugitives sat silently in the shadows, waiting in the alley for the gava to return. They showed no concern for how long Hasdel had been gone. They simply waited. The enormity of the misfortune that had befallen them paralyzed them both. They were incapable of helping themselves. Instead, they relied on the stranger, this messenger of the king.
Hasdel suddenly reappeared before the two boys. The glistening sweat on his forehead was enhanced by the moonlight reflecting from his face. The well-built young man stood tall and bent down to speak to them. “The Southgate is heavily guarded. The usual gatekeeper plus at least four, maybe as many as six of Mallivar’s men. They are still looking for you, Riverman.” Ty and Kalo rose as one. Without another word, the gava led the little party deep into the alley behind the North Star Inn.
At the rear of the building, a dim glow through a small window provided the only source of light in the alleyway. Hasdel motioned for the two Rivermen to remain still as he approached the escaping light. He peered in and quickly pulled away. “We are in luck, lads,” he said softly to his young friends.
The gava approached the door near the window. The faint light through the pane swept across his face as he searched the room. The creases at the corners of his squinting eyes conceded his many days in the sun. He knocked softly and spoke in a clear and gentle tone. “Katya. It is me, lass.” Hasdel winked at the two boys. Both smiled back broadly in the glow from the portal. Hasdel repeated his call, and at once the round face of a girl not much older than Kalo appeared in the frame. Her wide eyes searched the alleyway until she found Hasdel smiling back. Her hand flew up instantly to cover her open mouth.
> “Let us in, lass,” said the gava. A moment passed. Then the groan of a wooden slide latch broke into the night and the back door of the inn opened.
“Why are you here, sir?” said the maiden. She looked at Ty, then at Kalo as they followed Hasdel through the doorway. “I have just started the fire. There will be no food for some time, sir.” The damp smoky smell of the freshly lit kitchen stove perfumed the air.
Hasdel raised his hands in a quieting manner. “Do not fret, lass. I only need to find Quillen, the hunter. Which room is he in?”
The young girl listened to Hasdel, but her glance kept darting back to the two thieves, mostly to Kalo. His light blue eyes drew her in. He avoided her gaze by looking about the kitchen as if he had never seen one before.
“He’s in the room over the stable, sir,” the young girl said, looking back at the gava. “It’s the warmest room; it’s above the animals and he insists on having it.”
Hasdel, having learned what he needed, smiled and gave an exaggerated bow toward the blushing girl as he turned and made his way down the hall. Ty bowed quickly too and added a smirk with raised eyebrows. Kalo, the last of the three to exit the kitchen, neither bowed, nor smiled, nor even looked at the girl who continued to watch him. He hurried after the other two.
The smells of the inn changed from smoke, to ale, to a musty stench reminiscent of wet grass as the party made its way up the staircase. The steps creaked with each footfall as they climbed to the second floor.
Hasdel motioned for his two young companions to stop at the top of the stairs. He went on alone to the end of the hall, where he stopped at the last door and tapped on the old wood. He was hardly visible, and his knock only faintly audible. The door opened abruptly, and Hasdel stepped in. The sound of snoring men coming from the surrounding rooms gave a strange, almost fearful sense to the hall. Kalo and Ty remained still, not talking or moving, only peering down the dark hallway.
Suddenly the door at the end of the hall opened again, and an arm motioned the two boys to come forward. They hurried down the hall, Ty carrying the bundle of belongings. Hasdel quickly ushered them inside. A freshly lit lamp provided the only light. The flame flickered as the two boys entered the room, then slowly came to life and grew to its fullness.
The Ruins of Melda Page 6