by Anders, Lou
“We’re not alone,” she said.
They both faced the passageway. There was a faint light at its far end, and the soft sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Many footsteps. Karn slid Whitestorm from its sheath at the same time that Nesstra drew two of her slender darts.
Karn bent to look under the stone slab. Wood elves, both men and women. They wore scarves to hide their faces. Each carried a small round shield of a type known as a buckler. The faces of the shields were painted with the now familiar tree stump pattern.
“This can’t be good,” whispered Karn. Then one of their number spotted him.
The strangers all drew swords.
Beside him, Nesstra hurled one of her slim darts. It caught an elf in the leg. He hollered and went down.
The rest of the group reacted, bringing their small shields to the front. Nesstra’s next dart was batted aside.
“We’re pinned,” whispered Karn. “Nowhere to go.”
“Sure there is,” hissed Nesstra. “We can go through them.” She tossed another dart. This one struck home in a woman’s arm. Karn saw the woman drop. But they still faced too many opponents.
Then a man stepped forward and raised a small bow.
Karn jumped aside quickly as an arrow sped past him. He took cover behind the scutum—the first time in a thousand years the ancient Gordion shield had been utilized for its intended purpose.
Without any sort of projectile weapon, he was useless unless Nesstra could take out the archer. But he stood ready to chop with Whitestorm if anyone came ducking under the slab.
Then Nesstra yelped and fell backward. An arrow clattered on the wall behind her. She clutched her side, something wet on her fingers. She’d been grazed.
Nesstra tried to stand. Her legs wobbled.
“Oh no,” she said. “Poisoned.”
Then she fell over.
“Nesstra!” Karn called. He tried to reach her, but a second arrow drove him behind the shield.
The strangers cheered and broke into a run. They’d be on him in seconds. More than he could take on his own. Nesstra was dying, and he’d be joining her in moments unless he could think of something.
Karn looked at the heavy stone slab. Not the best solution. Just the only one. He grabbed the scutum tightly on either side. He hauled with all his strength.
The shield came away with a horrendous scraping noise. Karn fell to the ground, the large shield across his chest. With a loud thud, the enormous stone slid down, closing off the passageway. Then things were silent apart from his and Nesstra’s labored breathing. The strangers were on the other side of solid rock. They couldn’t reach him anytime soon. But neither could he reach the passageway to the stairs.
They were safe for the moment, but they were also trapped. Possibly forever.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Karn knelt beside Nesstra.
The wood elf winced in pain as the poison worked its way through her system.
“I can’t feel my legs,” she said. “I’m paralyzed.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Karn.
“No,” she replied. “Paralysis is good. If it was—poison—might not know how to treat it.” She tugged on her satchel with an arm that was rapidly losing its coordination. “Here. Take.”
Karn undid the flap and dug through the contents—glass vials, leather pouches, wrapped paper packets, a single round stone, small clay jars, as well as additional darts.
“Don’t prick—finger,” she warned.
“What do you need?” he asked. “Tell me what to do.”
“The red powder,” Nesstra said. “Mixture of sage, primrose, watercress, other herbs—will cure paralysis.”
Karn dug frantically through her gear.
“Found it,” he said, holding up a small vial of the medicine.
“Rub in wound,” Nesstra directed.
Karn lifted her shirt carefully.
“Oh goodness,” he said, voice heavy with fear.
“What—wrong?” she asked.
“Your skin. Around the wound. It’s so pale.”
Nesstra turned her face away. “Ignore it,” she said. “Rub it in.”
Karn did as instructed, applying the entire dosage of the medicine to her injury. The cut itself was slight—the arrow had done little more than graze her side. But he was worried about the gray-white flesh, which looked sickly. He hoped it wasn’t necrotic. When he finished, he slid her shirt back down to hide the sight of the pale skin.
“Hang in there,” he said, patting her awkwardly. “I dragged you into this. For Neth’s sake, this wasn’t even your quest! I promise you, I won’t let you die!”
Nesstra hid her face in the crook of her arm. Karn wanted to tell her she didn’t need to be ashamed to show pain and fear, but he didn’t quite know how. So he just held her, sitting quietly and waiting for the antidote to take effect.
—
“Let’s see you get out of this.”
Yelor was gloating. Or gloating as much as was possible with two badly swollen ears.
“Stick around and you will,” Thianna replied. “Though you’re looking pretty banged up. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
Yelor scowled.
The frost giantess was bound to an even bigger tree trunk than the last one, with bigger chains than before. Two more dark elves were standing a good fifteen feet away from her, both with loaded crossbows pointed at her belly. They had orders to fire the minute she muttered anything that sounded even remotely like a spell. They were in the main workroom of the lumber mill now, where the huge circular blade hung above the saw pit, but the pit had been covered up with boards.
“There have been some interesting developments in the city,” Yelor said. “We may not need you much longer. You should have cooperated when you had the chance.”
“Right. Like you’d just let me go,” sneered Thianna.
“True, you were never leaving here,” replied the elf. “But there are ways to dispose of you that are more or less—entertaining.” He touched one of his ears. “I think you owe me some entertainment now, don’t you?”
Thianna heard noises from the far end of the room, like something heavy being lifted on a winch through the doorway. And something else. Something bestial.
“Hear that?” asked Yelor, smiling darkly. “My agents found it wandering out of the woods last night. It maimed two of them before they caught it. They’re putting it in the saw pit now.”
Whatever it was made a strange hissing noise, unhappy with being snared. An elf swore. Clearly the mystery creature wasn’t cooperating.
“My conversation is too clever for you. Is that it?” Thianna laughed. “You needed someone to talk to more on your own level.”
“Charming. But this little pet is for you, not me. Consider it my going-away present.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“It’s no bother. But you must be wondering what it is. Well, I’m not going to tell you. That’s a surprise for later. But I will tell what it’s not.”
Yelor came as close to Thianna as he dared. It wasn’t very close. He whispered like a child with a naughty secret.
“It’s not a vegetarian.”
—
“Do you think they’ll try to lift the slab?”
“Maybe,” replied Nesstra. She was on her feet again. Karn was amazed by how fast the wood elf’s strength was returning now that her medicine had chased away the paralysis. “But then again, they looked like they were trying to kill us. Wouldn’t it be easier for them to just leave us in here forever?”
“Or wait a week and come back when we’d long since died from lack of food and air,” said Karn. “I hate to agree, but I think you’re right.”
“That’s what I’d do,” said Nesstra. “I mean,” she added hastily when she saw his expression, “that’s what I’d do if I were, you know, a member of a group of cold-blooded killers or something. Who are they, anyway?”
“Masked faces. Shields with
the same symbol that’s marked on the wall here. I’m guessing they’re some sort of ancient secret society that doesn’t want the horn found. Greenroot warned me someone like this might try to stop us.”
“They’ve done more than try.”
“It’s my fault. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Karn bent and wedged his fingers under the slab. He heaved, but the heavy rock didn’t budge. He tried again, but he was just acting out his frustration. The slab wasn’t going anywhere. He doubted even Thianna could have lifted it.
“I knew what I was getting into,” said Nesstra.
“I don’t see how you could. But thank you.”
Karn still knelt, feeling along the crack where it met the chamber floor. Nesstra went to him and took his chin in her hand, commanding his full attention.
“Don’t thank me,” she said with a startling intensity. “And don’t feel regret on my account either, okay?”
She crouched beside him and undid her satchel.
“You saved me back there,” she said. “How about we call it even if I get us out of here?”
Nesstra unwrapped a small packet. Karn saw that it contained a greenish claylike substance.
“Help me pack this under the crack,” she said. “But be careful.”
“What is it?”
“Let’s just say it goes boom.”
“Explosives? What are you doing with explosives?”
“Getting us out of here.”
“Yeah, but you have to tell me what you’re doing with explosives!”
“If we live through this, you’ll know. But it’s going to take all I’ve got, and—” She gazed at the chamber. “Rounded walls. The blast will circle around. We won’t be safe, even hiding behind the sarcophagus. I think there’s only one place where we’ll be properly shielded. But it’s going to be a little gross.”
—
It took the two of them to lift the stone lid of the sarcophagus. They looked down at the occupant. Neither was in a hurry to join him.
“He’s really well preserved,” said Karn.
“Some kind of charm in the room, I bet.”
“It would explain why the wood of the shield hasn’t rotted.” He gritted his teeth. “I guess there is no sense putting this off.”
“After you.”
“Why do I go first?”
“I have to light the fuse.”
Karn couldn’t argue with her logic. He steeled himself and set a foot in the sarcophagus, then climbed in. He did his best not to bump anything, but it was hard not to in the cramped space.
“Wait a minute,” he said, climbing back out and retrieving the ancient Gordion scutum.
“What do you want that for?” asked Nesstra.
“It’s our only clue.”
Karn climbed in again, then moved as far from the opening as he could. He wanted to give her space, as she’d have to move fast once the fuse was set.
“Ready?” she called.
“Ready.”
Nesstra lit the flame, then dove into the sarcophagus. No time to worry about where she landed. Karn hoped the body didn’t mind. Once the wood elf was inside, the two of them lifted the heavy stone lid as rapidly as its weight permitted and slid it back across the stone coffin. Then they were sealed in, alone with a soldier from a thousand years ago.
“So, this is a grave,” said Nesstra.
“Yeah,” said Karn. “For some reason, I tend to find myself in them startlingly often. Can’t say I’d recommend the experience.”
She smiled at his attempts at humor. Karn was grateful for her help and companionship, but she presented almost as big a mystery as his quest. He studied the wood elf in the light of his phosphorescent rock. Her normally golden skin looked wan in the dim illumination. It was almost as if—
The explosion was loud despite the thick stone. The lid of the sarcophagus even jumped a little bit, then settled back down. Putting their backs to work, they shoved it aside.
Karn looked at the slab. It had shattered in several places. Chunks of rock still hung in the doorway, but there was enough space to crawl through.
“You carry that explosive stuff around with you?” he said in amazement. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll blow up?”
Nesstra didn’t answer.
They picked their way across the rubble. Karn drew Whitestorm from its sheath. He held the scutum in his other hand.
“I bet they left a guard,” he said. “Just in case we didn’t die like we were supposed to.”
“Shame on us,” said Nesstra. She plucked a small, egglike object from her supplies. Karn wondered what in the world it could be. At this point, nothing would surprise him.
Cautiously, they tiptoed to the staircase. The tombstone above had been reset, but a small lever on the wall was clearly intended to activate it from this side.
“Get ready to fight,” Karn said as he threw the switch.
Sure enough, a wood elf cried in surprise as they emerged into the open air of Grave Hill. He swung a sword at Karn, who surprised himself with the ease with which he blocked the blow with his newly claimed shield. Then Nesstra broke the egg-thing on the man’s back. A foam substance erupted from it, swelling to engulf him. In seconds, the wood elf was stuck in a large, sticky blob.
“Sorry,” said Karn apologetically to the elf. “But you started it.”
“Put it back,” the stranger replied. “What you have found should not be found.”
“We haven’t found anything,” said Karn. The elf’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t there.” He saw the man’s disbelief and added, “I’m telling the truth. It looks like it was moved centuries ago.”
“Then let us hope it is still lost to the world,” said the elf.
“Why? Why do you care? And who are you, anyway?”
“We are the Order of the Oak,” said the wood elf. “We exist to keep dangerous artifacts hidden from the world. You will find nothing here but death. Go home to your cold wasteland while you can.”
“I came to find my friend Thianna,” said Karn angrily. “I’m not leaving until I do.”
They left quickly, in case any more members of the mysterious Order of the Oak were nearby. Karn sheathed Whitestorm, but he had no strap on which to sling the shield. He hefted it in his left hand, impressed by its weight and feel. Then he stopped walking.
“What is it?” said Nesstra.
“Words,” he said. “Words that I’m sure weren’t here before.”
He turned the shield around so that she could see the underside. Above and below the handgrip, characters painted in Common now appeared. Karn suspected there were two more verses of the riddle Orm had given him. Karn and Nesstra read them together.
A little finger holds the fate,
Where a crescent commands a straight.
Upon the arc where shatters wheel,
Alter course and come to heel.
In Sunken Palace waters reign,
King and Dragon find their bane.
When snake and cockerel sundering,
Seek ye then the Marble King.
“What does it mean?” said Nesstra.
“I don’t know what it points to,” said Karn. “But I’ll tell you what it means. It means we’re back in the game.”
“The horn is missing.”
Leflin Greenroot was clearly surprised to have visitors this evening. He turned his attention from Karn to Nesstra to Karn again and finally to the ancient Gordion scutum that Karn held before him.
“We found the secret location of the Horn of Osius,” Karn explained. “Only it wasn’t there. Someone took it.”
“Quiet,” said Greenroot, snapping out of his stupor. “Don’t talk of such things in the street. You had better both come inside and tell me everything.”
Greenroot made them tell their story three times. He grilled them about every tiny detail. They were in his main living area. The ancient shield was laid facedown on his large table so that the mysterious second and third ve
rse of the riddle could be read.
“So the horn is really missing,” the dark-skinned wood elf mused.
“That’s what we’ve been telling you,” said Karn. “But what I don’t understand is why the Order of the Oak didn’t know. Aren’t they the ones who hid it in the first place?”
“But they weren’t the ones who took it,” said Nesstra.
“No, but they clearly wrote the poem,” Karn explained. “Which means someone from the Order of the Oak entered the chamber after the horn was taken and penned the second and third verse on the back of the shield. But the Oak elf we met didn’t know.”
“They’ve forgotten—that is, I imagine they must have forgotten a bit of their own history,” said Greenroot. “An occupational hazard when all your teachings are secret and tied up in riddles.”
Karn tapped the shield.
“It’s Gordion, right?”
“Yes,” said Greenroot. “Remarkably well preserved.” He turned it faceup. “But the markings should be able to tell us some more about it.”
Greenroot went to a bookcase and pulled out a scroll. He unrolled it on the table beside the shield. Karn saw it was an illustrated guide to the various shields used by different Gordion military divisions.
“This one,” said Greenroot, tapping an image on the scroll. It matched the shield on the table in color and design. “It’s the shield of a Thican auxiliary soldier. The auxiliaries were people from conquered territories who were conscripted into the Gordion army. They would fight together as their own legion, separate from the native-born Gordion soldiers.”
Nesstra snorted. “Come join our empire,” she said. “Just don’t stand too close.”
Karn wasn’t listening. Puzzle pieces were slotting together in his mind.
“So a horn from Thica is buried in Castlebriar. Long ago, when it was the Gordion outpost called Castrusentis. And later, a soldier from Thica forced to fight in the Gordion army is stationed there.”
“And the soldier finds the horn,” Nesstra added excitedly. “And takes it. But why?”
“Thianna could use the horn,” Karn replied. “If the soldier was from Thica, then it’s possible he could too.”
“I think we can assume that he could,” said Greenroot.
“So the soldier could compel reptiles,” said Karn. “If you could command a wyvern—or a dragon—what would you do?” He turned to Greenroot. “Tell me about Thica’s history with the Gordions.”