At the next junction, he paused. His instincts told him to wait for a moment, and he trusted those instincts. A click told him someone closed a door around the corner and the soft padding of booted feet let him know that the someone was moving away from him.
Waiting a ten count, Jeffry peered around the corner to see who was about. No surprise, a dwarf moved down the corridor. Narrowing his eyes, he realized he knew this dwarf. Witek! Not sure what this was about, or why the warning, he decided to trail the dwarf to see what he was about.
Following Witek up corridors, down ramps, and across bridges spanning fissures in the stone floor, Jeffry soon realized where they were heading. Why was Witek going back to the archives at this time of night? The overseer told them that once the lights were dimmed, none would be allowed entry until the next day.
Nearing the archival entrance, Jeffry hastened his step. Once the dwarf went down that lift, he would lose him. Catching up to the doorway into the antechamber, Jeffry stopped and peaked around the corner.
Across the chamber, next to the lifts, Witek and a guard had a whispered conversation. Straining to hear, Jeffry wished there were some way to draw closer. He wanted to know what they were talking about.
The guard made a sharp gesture of denial and Witek stepped back, mouth turned down in a scowl. The dwarf made a series of small gestures with his hands and spoke a series of words. The guard stiffened and his face went blank. With stiff movements, the guard followed Witek onto the lift platform and the two of them descended into the libraries.
Had Witek just cast a spell on that guard? Jeffry wondered. That would make Witek some sort of wizard, but not of Uriasz. That left few options, none of them good. He needed to know why the dwarf was going back down into the archives. All he had now was a story without evidence, and he knew Krystelle would demand evidence from him if he was going to denounce their dwarven benefactor.
He had to get out of this corridor before Witek came back up the lift. Creeping into the ante-chamber, he looked around for a place to hide. Unfortunately, even with the size of the room there was no place to lie in wait. Thinking back over their route, he remembered a small alcove off to the side not far from the ante-chamber. That would make as good a place as any to wait for the dwarf to pass by.
No sooner had he left the room when he heard the sound of the lift starting up again behind him. Hurrying down the corridor, he ducked into the little alcove and settled in to wait.
A minute later the padding of footsteps told him the dwarf was almost upon him. Squeezing into the relative shadow of the nook, he held his breath, willing the dwarf to pass him by. It worked! Witek walked past the alcove without stopping and Jeffry let out his breath in relief.
The footsteps stopped and Jeffry winced. The dwarf's guttural voice echoed in the corridor, "You can come out now," he said.
Bracing himself for the confrontation, Jeffry stepped out into the green light illuminating the hall. "Witek," he said.
The dwarf stroked his hand through his beard, "It's you. I might have known you were going to be a problem."
Defiant, Jeffry pulled himself up, "What were you doing in the libraries at this time of night," he demanded.
Chuckling, the dwarf pulled a book out of his cloak, "Retrieving this," he said.
"I thought no one was allowed to bring anything out of the library?"
"You're quite correct. Nothing is supposed to leave those hallowed halls."
Jeffry drew closer, "Then what are you doing with that?"
Raising up a hand, Witek arched his brows, "That's quite close enough," he said. "What are we going to do with you, I wonder?"
"Do with me? Nothing. You're going to come with me and explain yourself."
Laughing, Witek stepped back away from the man. "I think you overestimate your position here." The dwarf began uttering a chant in a language Jeffry did not recognize.
His vision began to blur and he could feel his knees buckling. He tried to speak, to demand the dwarf stop whatever he was doing, but the words came out muffled. A ringing rose in his ears and everything went black.
#
Waking the next morning in his room, Jeffry's head felt fogged. Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he pulled himself up with a groan. Still in his clothes from the day before, he blinked to clear his eyes, trying to remember how he'd even gotten back to his room. Rising, he wobbled over to the washbasin to splash cold water onto his face.
Stripping off his tunic, he tried to recollect what happened the previous evening. He remembered dinner, and his frustration. Then leaving the others to clear his head. Surely he had not drunk so much at dinner to lose time. There was something about a hooded figure following him, but after that his memory failed.
After dressing, he left his room to gather with the others. Walking down the short corridor leading to their shared common room, he could not shake the feeling that more happened the night before than he remembered.
Entering the common room, he found the others sitting around the central table. Witek sat at one end with their watchdog, Berhathog at the other. Seeing Witek, his skin crawled. Shrugging it off, he sensed a tension in the air.
"Hey, what's going on?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. "You all look like someone killed the cat."
Frowning Krystelle looked over to him and gestured to the open seat at the table. "Sit, Berhathog has something he needs to tell us and he refuses to say anything until we were all here."
Pulling himself together, Jeffry sauntered to the open chair. Turning it around, he through one leg over the seat and settled in, leaning on the chair back that now faced the table. "Well, Berty, what's the news?"
Arching an eyebrow, the dwarven librarian cleared his throat. "I will come right to the point. Someone entered the archives late last night without authorization, removing a book from the shelves."
Bristling, Krystelle glared at the dwarf, "And I suppose you think one of us had something to do with it?"
"What else are we to think? There are no other outsiders in Hallvard, save one and we know he did not do this."
Daciana tilted her head to the side, "Who is this other and how can you be so sure he did not do this thing?"
"He is no concern of yours," answered Berhathog. "Suffice to say, he has been within these walls for some time now and would not do this thing. Nor would any other dwarf. It must have been one of you."
"So then, what now?" asked Daciana.
Berhathog glared at them, "Your rooms are being searched as we speak. We will find the book."
Before he finished, the room erupted in shouting, each of them voicing their protest of the invasion. Witek's voice boomed over all, "Peace!" When they had settled, he continued. "There is nothing to be done and no use in arguing. You are guests in Hallvard, and I have vouched for you. Betrayal of that trust will not be looked upon kindly."
Wincing at the sound of the dwarf's voice, Jeffry could not even bring himself to look at Witek. A sharp pain shot through his temple and he rubbed his forehead in an attempt to soothe away the feeling.
Krystelle shook her head, "None of us would do this thing."
"Even so," said Berhathog. "The book is gone."
"What if you find it in one of our rooms?" asked Cenric.
Witek raised a hand, interrupting Berhathog before he could respond. "Let us cross that bridge when we come to it," he said. "The search will be completed momentarily. In the meanwhile, I suggest you all eat."
Popping to his feet, Cenric bounced over to the array of food laid out on a table to the side of the chamber. Looking over at the spread, Jeffry felt nausea rising up in his belly. Turning away he locked eyes with Witek. The corner of Witek's mouth twitched up so slightly he thought he might have imagined it and Jeffry looked away.
What was wrong with him this morning? Between his foggy memories of the night before and the physical reaction to both Witek and the meal, he felt ill at ease in his own skin. Not a feeling he was accustomed to. Ha
d that strange watcher done something to him?
The minutes ticked past and Jeffry began to pace, needing to fill the time. Krystelle shot him a look, "Would you sit down?"
Forcing himself to grin at her, he quipped, "What's the matter? Am I making you nervous?"
She rolled her eyes, "Just sit."
He bowed with a smirk, "As you wish." Settling in, he glanced at his companions. Oblivious to the rest of them, Cenric plowed through a plate piled high with breakfast cakes and meats. Meanwhile Daciana picked at her own tray of grains and fruits. Krystelle ignored her bowl of steaming porridge, staring at the door to their rooms and tapping a finger. What Jeffry wouldn't have given for a cup of mulled wine at that moment. If nothing else it might have settled his stomach.
They sat it relative silence as the minutes ticked past, only the sounds of Cenric chewing and Krystelle tapping broke the quiet. To Jeffry it felt like waiting for the headsman, although he could not say why. Surely none of their party would have taken something from the archives. The stakes were too high to risk it all on such a foolish maneuver.
At last, the door swung open and a quartet of dwarfish guards entered with Asegeirr. A sixth person slipped in with the others. Hooded and cloaked, they were too tall to be a dwarf. Shocked, Jeffry realized this must be his shadow from the prior day.
"Well," said Berhathog, rising from the table. "What did you find?"
Asegeirr lifted a black journal, leather-bound and fraying with age. "Agathon’s Foundations of the Ban. This is a rare and valuable document."
The companions sat in stunned silence, staring at the book. For Jeffry, it seemed the entire world collapsed to a single point. He could see nothing except the journal in Asegeirr's hand.
Krystelle's broke through, "Who?" she said, frost covering her voice.
"Him," said Asegeirr, pointing.
Rising to his feet, Jeffry stared at the gnarled finger extending his direction. Protests filled his thoughts, struggling to burst forth, but he found himself unable to speak. Memories came flooding back. He saw himself creeping into the archive antechamber and clubbing the guard. Activating the lift, he made his way down into the stacks of books and made his way along the hall until he found the journal he sought. Pulling the book from a shelf he thrust it under his cloak and stole back to his rooms.
He couldn't have? Could he? But if he had not, then where did these memories come from? A slap set his ears to ringing and brought him back to the present. "How could you?" snapped Krystelle. "No...do not bother trying to answer. I should have known better than to trust a thief. This is just you showing your true colors."
"I'm afraid your search is over," said Berhathog.
Krystelle turned to him. "But this is important! You know what we face. We must find the journal.”
Berhathog shook his head, "The terms of your admission to the archives was quite clear. Nothing was to have been removed."
Finding his voice, Jeffry turned to the dwarven archivist. "Please. They had nothing to do with this. If I confess and leave Hallvard, with an oath never to return...would that make a difference."
Berhathog looked over at Asegeirr, who shrugged, and then back at Krystelle. "You will swear that none of the rest of you had any knowledge of this?"
Krystelle turned to the dwarf, "I swear, on my honor as a Sword-master of Gabirel and by the Seat of Naevean."
"Powerful words," said Berhathog, raising an eyebrow. "And a powerful oath. Your oath is accepted. The man known as Jeffry Cavan is exiled from Hallvard and will be escorted to the gates forthwith."
Nodding, Jeffry stood, "I'll just gather my things then."
Asegeirr moved forward, flanked by the four guards. "You misunderstand. Your exile is immediate. You will be taken to the gates now, as you stand."
"No!" shouted the cloaked figure, Jeffry's stalker, pulling back his hood. Jeffry gaped, his current predicament momentarily forgotten. The stalker continued, "Sending him out with no supplies and no weapons is almost as good as a death sentence. You have to at least let me go with him."
"Martino?" said Krystelle and Jeffry, in unison. He turned to Krystelle, staring and even more surprised, if that were possible. "How did you get here?" she said.
"I've been here recovering as a guest ever since you and Sebastian left."
Jeffry's jaw dropped, "You two know each other?"
"We met when Sebastian and I came to break her out of a dwarven prison. He's my brother."
It was Krystelle's turn to gape. "Brother?"
#
Back at her workstation in the archives, Krystelle found herself distracted. Once again, Jeffry betrayed her trust. Yet each time in the past that happened, events showed that she had misjudged him. In this case, though, she could not think of any explanation. What more proof did she need than his own confession? Her only relief lay in the fact that the dwarves accepted her oath and they were able to continue the search for the journal.
Discovering Jeffry’s true identity as one of Harvian Tedosian's sons only compounded her confusion. One of the richest and most successful merchant families in all of Cynneweald, the Tedosians had their hands in just about every form of commerce imaginable. That their eldest son moonlighted as the infamous smuggler, Jeffry Cavan, implied that their trade network was not as legitimate as they made it appear. That would make him Geofram Tedosian, but she knew somehow he would always be Jeffry Cavan to her.
She knew she should be working. They were no closer to finding the journal than when they arrived at Hallvard and Witek had left another pile of books for her to read through. The thought of two more days staring at pages and pages of musty old manuscripts made her head hurt while thinking about Jeffry pained her heart. Sighing, she pulled the first book from the stack and opened its pages, sneezing from the dust.
Two hours and half a dozen books later she heard Cenric calling from down the aisle. Looking up she saw him gesturing to her excitedly. Relieved to get a break, she rose from the table, stretching her neck to the side to relieve the crick that developed from hunching over the workstation. Striding down the aisle she hoped the other two had found the information she sought.
Walking up to them, she found Cenric smiling ear to ear. As usual the smile did not touch his eyes. It never did anymore. That worried her more than she cared to admit. Bent over a familiar manuscript, Witek scribbled in his own journal.
"We found it!" said Cenric. "The journal, I mean."
Looking up from the book, Witek nodded, "Indeed we have. I do not know how that man knew to look in the Reflections but it occurred to me I should review the pages of the book for a hint as to why he would take it. One thread led to another and then to the journal itself."
Krystelle wondered if Jeffry coming along on this quest had been as much of a coincidence as it seemed. He had gone to great lengths to make it clear he had better things to do, yet he stayed with them up to the point where he sabotaged everything they were working toward.
#
Jeffry stewed, making his way down the mountain path leading away from Hallvard with his brother. It was not that he minded being called a thief. That was the lifestyle he had chosen for himself. Even being called a thief for something he had not done. Each time he thought back to the previous night, he remembered as far as returning to his room and then everything was a blur until the next morning. Even his inability to remember wasn't it. There was something else.
Thankfully his brother remained silent. Martino knew him well enough to recognized the signs that he wished to be left in peace. Halfway down the mountainside, Martino finally broke the silence, "It's the girl you know."
Jeffry glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Martino chuckled, "No I don't suppose you do. You'll figure it out in time."
By mutual accord, they fell back into silence as the terrain changed gradually from the rocky cliffs around Hallvard to high forest. The sun stood low on the horizon when J
effry called a halt. "I don't suppose you have anything to start a fire with?" he asked his brother. Martino shook his head. "At least the weather's fair. It won't be too cold sleeping under the stars."
Rolling his eyes, Martino settled against the trunk of a large tree, "You always were the optimist in the family." Jeffry gave his brother his signature grin as he stretched out beside Martino. The one that always got him into trouble with their father.
As night fell over the woods, Jeffry felt his eyes grow heavy. Before nodding off completely, he became aware of a flickering light in the distance. Watching it for a time, he wanted to be sure it wasn't just his imagination or simply some low-lying star on the horizon. Finally convinced, he nudged his snoring brother. "Do you see that?"
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Martino blinked twice peering into the forest. "See what?" he mumbled.
"I think someone is out here." Pulling himself to his feet, Jeffrey motioned for his brother to follow, "Let's find out who it is." Groaning, Martino pulled himself to his feet, following his brother into the woods and shaking the sleep out of his head.
Creeping through the forest the brothers fell into old patterns, Jeffry leading and Martino following. Small hand motions and nods of the head communicating to each other their intentions without the need to speak and give away their position. Skills they used to great effect in avoiding their father throughout childhood.
Closing to a hundred yards of the mystery fire, Jeffry signaled his brother to stop. Stooping in the bushes, Martino grabbed his brother's arm. Jeffry raised a questioning eyebrow and followed Martino's gaze. There. A sentry in the woods walking toward where they crouched.
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 54
