“Of course, Your Highness.” The prince's guard, six heavily armed men, stood outside the door. One of them closed the door as the pair exited. “But I do prefer my tower. When the night air keeps an old man awake, I can look down upon the city and watch those who walk in the night."
“Well, then. Perhaps you'll look down and find our thief."
“Perhaps so,” said the wizard, though he was already convinced that the true culprit resided insidethe keep.
* * * * *
“I saw a magician destroy a house like that once,” said Alexander. He and Adriana rode side by side with the dwarf before them on a borrowed horse. They kept their steeds to a walk as they passed through the forest. The trees grew far enough apart to be navigable, but a fast pace would be hazardous. Alexander found the sun through the overhead foliage pleasing. If not for the scene behind them, this could be a pleasant afternoon jaunt through the woods.
“He tore through a solid wall?” the counselor asked.
“Not so much physically. He stood back about fifteen feet and shouted at the wall. He spoke a language I've never heard before, and he made signs with his hands throughout the process. All of His Excellency's Huntsmen were watching. We'd just decided that the old man was insane when he thrust both hands toward the wall, palms first. It was made of stone blocks but they blew apart like wood chips in a storm. The magician collapsed; it took him three days to recover."
“What was inside the house?"
“A man who trapped and trained wyverns. His house was a miniature fortress, and his pets were near the end of their hibernation period. We decided to make a way in before they woke up."
“Wyverns and wizards.” Adriana shook her head. “You seem to lead a full life, Huntsman."
“I've seen a wyvern once,” said Gerder. “'Twas already dead, though. We get nests of ’em on occasion ‘round the Stronghold, and this one ventured too close, surprised my uncle while he was working on the Locks. Lucky for him ‘twas a small one, only five or six feet. Killed it with his bare hands."
“With his—"
“By the Great Hammer, I swear it. Broke the damned thing's neck. My ma keeps a chunk of stone on her mantel. It's scarred an inch deep where the stinger just missed his leg."
Gerder fell silent again, and Alexander pondered the dwarf's dead uncle. He could slay a mountain beast unarmed, yet had been bested in seconds back at the farmer's cabin. Alexander grimaced and glanced at Adriana from the corner of his eye. Her face said she'd had the same realization. They rode without speaking for a while.
“Can you tell me about the other murders?” asked Alexander.
Adriana shot a warning glance at their companion's back. “I'd prefer to wait until we've seen Selmer Ridge,” she said.
Gerder twisted around in his saddle to look at them. “Don't concern yourself with me, Counselor. I figured a while ago that you're not just idle curiosity-seekers. If you're cleaning up the foul business that got Ervin killed, Gerder Fromark's at your service. And I'm a man that can keep my trap shut.” So saying, the dwarf turned back to guiding his horse through the trees.
Adriana remained hesitant. Alexander thought he knew the reason—the counselor had already hinted at dissention amongst the Imperial court during the rickshaw ride. More-sensitive information probably existed and likely as not, she wasn't thrilled at the prospect of bringing another outsider into that circle of trust.
A theory jumped to Alexander's mind unbidden: Adriana suspected that someone in the Imperial court had sponsored the killings. For a moment, he experienced a distressing sense of helplessness. Tracking a lone deviant in the unfamiliar city was a monumental task. Plunging into the local political machinations bordered on suicidal. Worse, Adriana was his only real contact in this arena. If her own motives proved to be less than wholesome, Alexander's situation could go from bad to impossible in a heartbeat.
He sighed and told himself to concentrate on the task one step at a time. With any luck the job at hand would distract him from the possible conclusions for a bit.
“The attack at the farmhouse was the first,” said Adriana. Apparently, she'd decided to trust their dwarven guide. “At least, that's what we thought. Obviously, Selmer Ridge was the first attack, and the farm was an unintended addition when Gerder's uncle got away."
“What were the people at Selmer Ridge doing?"
Adriana looked away. “I don't know,” she said.
Alexander reined in his horse. The other two continued on a few steps before realizing he'd stopped. They brought their own mounts to a halt and turned to face him.
“Horseshit,” said Alexander.
“Alexander, I don't—"
“You know everything going on in the Emperor's back rooms, but you don't know why a group of men and dwarves are camped out in the mountains just outside the city walls? I don't believe you."
“I could be imprisoned just for—"
“They're lookin’ for silver,” said Gerder.
Adriana's face paled and her hand went to her dagger. “How do you know that?” she demanded.
The young dwarf's voice remained calm. “I went up there, remember? I saw the tools they had and the tests they made. Any dwarf with a five-minute look could tell you what was bein’ done."
“The exploration was supposed to be secret,” said Adriana.
“I doubt they had time to hide the workshop on that last day,” Gerder said. “You'll see when we get there."
“Silver?” said Alexander. “In the Mandreal Mountains?"
“The first small bits were discovered months ago,” said Adriana. “His Righteousness has had a team scouring the lower reaches for signs of a full lode. Selmer Ridge looked like the most promising, so the men there were sinking an exploratory shaft."
“Silver in the Mandreal,” Alexander said. “Great hell, no wonder you didn't want to say anything."
“Something I'm missin'?” asked Gerder.
“Basic trade,” replied Alexander. “Despite their extensive mining operations, the Empire of Hurst has only a small supply of silver. They find it in a few mines in the Black Mountains, but a good amount of it comes through trade with Addamantia and Forthaven. I'd wager at least seventy percent of Hurst's silver comes from the other cities."
“Eighty,” said Adriana.
“Eighty, then. If a large supply of silver were found within the Imperial boundaries the balance of trade with the other city-states would change dramatically. The Emperor's council probably wanted this kept secret until the full potential was known. I'm sure they've been plotting and planning for months.” Alexander looked at Adriana, but she had returned to her tight-lipped expression.
“We'd best be on our way,” said Gerder. “I'd prefer to return before nightfall, if it's all the same to you folk."
Alexander nodded and the dwarf kicked his mount forward. The Huntsman swung in beside Adriana as they rode. He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, then thought better of the gesture as his horse looked at hers and snorted.
“Let's concentrate on the task at hand,” he said, “and leave the problem of silver to the trade masters. Agreed?"
She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the tension drained from her body and she slumped slightly in the saddle. “All right,” she said. She shook her head. “If you even whisper the word ‘silver’ in Hurst I'll be thrown in the keep's dungeon, Alexander."
He raised his hand. “My pledge. You won't visit the dungeons on my account."
Adriana nodded. “Whatever goes on here, I suspect that it's greater than just some random murders. The ‘deviant,’ as you call him, works to some evil purpose."
“Then let's discover the purpose. Who benefits from the deaths at Selmer Ridge?"
“The most obvious benefactor? Addamantia or Forthaven."
“No one else?"
“Not that I can think of."
“All right, then, we'll get back to that later. Let's find the link between the vic
tims."
The counselor gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?"
“It's an exercise used often by the Huntsmen,” Alexander said. He ducked under a low branch, one the dwarf had cleared without noticing. “When there are multiple victims to a crime we determine what they all have in common. That commonality often leads to the man who committed the crimes."
“I see.” Adriana nodded. “You're really good at this, Alexander. I think we're fortunate to have your help."
“Hopefully so, but that remains to be seen. Tell me about the other killings."
“Virmual Postwick was, as I said, primarily responsible for negotiating our trade agreements with Addamantia, Balis Tyrok, Forthaven and the Stronghold. He also knew a great deal about military strategy and the management of food stores, supply chains, that sort of thing. Logistics."
“New to the counsel, old, outspoken or quiet?"
“Virmual was a member of the court longer than any other. Outspoken? Oh, yes. His was one of the sharpest minds in Hurst, and he'd kill or die before letting His Righteousness be swayed by unsound advice."
“Where did he stand in regard to the discovery of silver?"
“It's odd, but Virmual didn't really get involved in that debate. He had his hands in everything else but didn't believe we'd find anything but traces of silver in the Mandreal."
“About ten more minutes,” called Gerder. Alexander was sure the dwarf had heard the entire conversation, though he remained politely silent.
“There was something odd about his death,” Adriana said. “Virmual was killed in the keep, in his own quarters. A servant heard a disturbance and tried to help, but the door was locked from the inside. When the guards broke it down, they found Virmual, but no sign of his attacker. Something tore Virmual apart. It mauled him, like what you'd expect to see from a bear or a troll."
“A window?” suggested Alexander, thinking of the Hurst Air Corps.
“None in his rooms,” said Adriana. “The servant was away from the door for less than a minute when summoning the guard. Though the killer may have slipped away, how could he throw the bolt from the outside?"
“I don't know. Magic, maybe, or an exceptional thief."
“The other slaying is even more inexplicable. Rominfeld the Bard, killed three weeks after the farmhouse attack. Rominfeld stayed in the keep for three days entertaining His Righteousness and the court. After that, he worked the taverns in the city for two nights. He was returning to his inn on the second night when something dragged him into an alley. The crier heard his screams and found the remains."
“Something?"
“No man could have inflicted the wounds Rominfeld suffered. His body was savaged as thoroughly as Virmual's."
“But no one saw the attacker?"
“No one. So, Huntsman, what's the common link? I can't see it."
Alexander mulled over the counselor's narrative for a moment.
“I confess, nothing springs to mind right away. The obvious conclusion is that someone from Addamantia or Forthaven doesn't want Hurst to mine its own silver. They killed the mining party, but Rominfeld overheard of the plan during his travels. He was followed to Hurst and silenced. Your counselor began tracking the responsible party himself, got too close and was also killed."
Adriana arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Pardon my bluntness, Alexander, but that's pretty weak."
He sighed. “My thoughts exactly."
“If the bard knew something vital, his killer probably would have acted before he reached Hurst. Also, if Virmual could be slain inside the keep, why not Rominfeld?"
“Good points, both,” said Alexander. “Still, there are a few things I'm sure of."
“Go on."
“As you said, there's certainly a purpose behind the killings. These three murders are related by more than just the method. Also, consider the locked room and the fact that no one has actually witnessed the acts—I'm positive that magic is involved. Finally, we still don't know what actually killed any of these people."
The trees broke abruptly before a wide, upswept ridge of solid rock. Gerder turned his horse without pausing, guiding it toward a black slash in the rock face before them. The cave mouth betrayed no sign of intruders. The bright sunlight vanished within feet of the opening.
Adriana kicked her horse lightly, urging it up the gentle slope. “I don't mind telling you, Huntsman, I'm frightened."
“You've company in that, Counselor. Tell me later about the last murder. I want to look at this mine before it gets dark outside."
The horses picked their way up the slope and Gerder brought them to a halt before the cave. “There's a sheltered plateau further up,” the dwarf said. “I gather they left their horses there, though all were gone by the time I arrived. We can tie ours here."
A gate of wrought iron bars had been fashioned at the entrance of the cave. Little rust colored the metal, but one side of the gate hung from twisted hinges. Alexander and Adriana tethered the horses to one of the bars while Gerder fished a tinderbox out of his saddlebag. Inside the gate he located a small pile of dry timbers and squatted down, setting to work with the flint and steel. In a short time he had a brand blazing.
“They've lanterns set to the walls inside,” said Gerder, “but not until the tunnel bends out of sight."
“They didn't want the light visible from outside,” Alexander guessed.
Despite the illumination of the torch, Alexander felt as if he'd stepped into a pool of ink. The air inside the cave was cold after the warmth of the afternoon sun, and his eyes found nothing but impenetrable darkness beyond the flicking light. The width of the tunnel was more than adequate for him to walk without touching the sides, but the rock walls seemed to close in behind as the trio passed by. The rich smell of dirt and moist rock filled the cool void, accompanied by a slight metallic tang. The scrape of their boots over the uneven floor bounced around the passage, echoing in Alexander's ears before fading to nothingness. He felt Adriana's hand grasp his arm above the elbow.
Alexander judged they'd gone forty paces when the tunnel bent sharply. Gerder brought the group to a halt, and a second light source flared to life. A rope ran through iron rings set in the rock level with Alexander's waist, and from the rope hung a large oil lantern. Gerder turned to the opposite wall and used the torch to ignite an identical setup.
“Can tell they had dwarves with ’em,” Gerder said. “When it's all men, you folk tend to put the blasted lanterns out of our reach."
Adriana giggled, then caught herself abruptly. “I'm sorry, I suppose that's not very funny."
“No offense taken, Counselor. We get our revenge when a man tries to use a dwarven latrine."
Gerder led the way down the remaining passage, pausing every few feet to light more lanterns. The metallic odor grew stronger and the tunnel widened, until it terminated at the entrance of a large chamber. Another ironwork barrier was sunk into the walls, but both tall gates lay twisted on the ground. Gerder's torch glinted off the head of a spear beside one of the gates. The haft ended three feet from the point, splintered as if the spear had been rammed straight into the wall.
As the circle of illumination moved forward, the bodies of two men appeared. Both wore the uniforms of Hurst soldiers, and both bore massive wounds. The skull of one was caved in, while the other's chest and stomach had been torn open. The cold air had prevented their bodies from rotting, but the sweet, iron smell of blood grew cloying as Alexander walked slowly past.
“There should be a dozen guards, and half that number on the exploration team. Also, a flyer from the Air Corps,” said Adriana. Her voice was flat and tightly controlled.
“I didn't count on my last visit,” said Gerder, “but I believe they're all accounted for."
The dwarf made his way throughout the chamber, lighting torches and lanterns. As the interior brightened Alexander saw that they stood in a natural cave. The ceiling soared forty or fifty feet above their heads. A row of bunk
s lined one wall, with a large chest at the foot of each. Crude wooden racks were interspersed with the bunks. Armor hung from roughly half of them. Across the chamber, rows of shelves held stores of food and earthenware jugs of water. Three long tables took up the center of the room, one overturned, two upright. Wooden bowls were half-full of stew, as if the men in the cave had been interrupted mid-meal.
The men themselves were strewn everywhere. Every corpse displayed the same grievous wounds as the pair at the entrance—broken limbs, rent flesh, horrified expressions frozen in their last screams. The strength of the attackers must have been incredible, Alexander realized. One fallen soldier wore two halves of a chain gambeson, sliced through as if the links were made of string. One man had managed to pull on a steel helm. The side was dented in to an obviously lethal degree. Next to one of the bunks, Adriana had picked up an odd contraption—a leather harness attached to large, feathered wings.
“Cozy little place,” said Gerder. “Two fire pits with natural vents to the rock face. Probably warmed the whole cave without gettin’ smoky. I've seen worse in the Stronghold itself."
“There were two, possibly three attackers,” said Alexander.
Adriana folded the glider and tucked it awkwardly under her arm. “What makes you think so?"
“To begin with, you have twelve or thirteen trained fighters here, and they were on guard at least to some extent. More specifically, look at the way the bodies are grouped.” Alexander gestured to a mess of scattered logs and kindling next to the shelves. Four soldiers lay amongst the wood, along with their swords and spears. “One group fought there.” He pointed to the opposite side of the chamber, where five more corpses were distributed between two shattered cots. “The men over here certainly didn't watch their friends get killed. They must have been occupied by a second, well, demon, for lack of a better term."
“I thought ’em slain by bears, until I looked closer,” said Gerder. “No bear I've seen could do this.” He kicked at a broken sword with the toe of his boot.
“The rest?” asked Adriana.
“Down there.” The dwarf nodded toward one of two openings in the rock wall opposite the gate. “They've got a workroom set up near the top of the exploratory shaft. The demons trapped ’em there, slaughtered the lot. I don't know how my uncle slipped out, but my guess is he was in the main room and broke from the fight. And if that were the case, he obviously thought the foe too much for ’em."
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