The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde

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The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde Page 20

by Brian S. Pratt


  “How long do you think we should stay here?” asked Chad.

  “No more than we have to,” replied Bart. “Maybe another half hour at the most. We don’t want anyone coming up here looking for you two.”

  “We can always come back tomorrow night,” added Riyan.

  Then all of a sudden, Chad’s eye caught sight of an emblem engraved into the crosspiece of a dagger. “I think I found it!” he exclaimed. The other two rushed to his side as he pulled the dagger from off the wall. He held the dagger up so they could see the double-headed falcon that was part of one of the two coats of arms they were searching for. Just as in the coat of arms, it held a stick with a single leaf in its left claw and a downward pointing dagger in its right.

  “You’re right,” nodded Riyan. Excitement welled up within him at the imminent prospect of learning what they came here to learn. His eyes turned to the unexplored tomes still remaining on the shelves. “The answer must be here!”

  “Looks that way,” agreed Bart. “Let’s be quick.”

  Each returned to their tasks. Chad replaced the dagger back on the wall and quickly scanned the rest of the weapons for similar markings but failed to find any. After inspecting the last of the weapons, he turned his attention away from the wall to find Riyan standing next to one of the tables with an open tome laid out before him. He was bent over as he read the words.

  Moving to his side Chad asked, “Anything?”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “This tome speaks of the early history of this region, at least I think it’s of this region. It’s hard to tell with the language being what it is and all.”

  “What does it say?” Chad asked.

  Bart stopped what he was doing when he heard them speaking and came over to join them.

  “It doesn’t mention Gilbeth,” he explained. “I think it was written sometime prior to Gilbeth’s founding.”

  “Does it mention the King’s coins?” asked Bart. “Or the two coats of arms?”

  “I…” he started then grew quiet as he read more of the passages. “In a couple places it mentions ‘ancient ones’.” Looking up he said, “I get the feeling it’s talking about ruins from a long time ago.”

  “Such as Algoth?” asked Chad.

  Riyan nodded. “Possibly, but I’m not sure.”

  “Anything specific?” asked Bart. “Names of cities, regions, anything that might point us in the right direction?”

  “Not so far,” replied Riyan. “It speaks of them as if the reader should know what the writer is talking about.” While the others wait, he quickly scanned several more pages before coming to a stop. Pointing his finger to one of the passages in the tome, he said.

  “Kartha.”

  “Kartha?” asked Bart. “Is that a town or a person?”

  “I think it’s a city,” he explained. “Built on the shores of a lake.”

  “Could it be Algoth?” asked Bart. The Ruins of Algoth had been located on the shores of a lake.

  Riyan shook his head. “No,” he said. “The lake in question has an island.” Chad looked to Bart. “I’ve never heard of a city named Kartha before.”

  “Neither have I,” admitted Bart.

  “Apparently this Kartha had been prospering for some time before much older ruins were discovered beneath it.” Moving his gaze from the tome to the others he added,

  “Looks like they had constructed Kartha on the site of a long dead city.”

  “Did they find anything?” Chad asked.

  “Nothing of any importance,” he said. “This book only mentions the fact as part of the history.” He flipped through the next several pages but couldn’t find any further reference to the city Kartha. “Maybe another of the tomes will yield more information on Kartha.”

  “I could take a few of these with me when we leave,” suggested Bart.

  “No,” Riyan said. “I’ll not steal from the Guild.” He turned to look at Bart.

  Bart nodded. “As you will, it was just a suggestion.”

  “Kartha,” Chad said. “Something about that seems familiar.”

  “In what way?” asked Riyan.

  Chad shrugged, “Just seems familiar is all.”

  They spent the next half hour searching through the bulk of the tomes and scrolls.

  Some did mention ‘ancient ones’ but none divulged where to find them. There was also no further mention of this Kartha. When they decided they had spent more time here than they should, they left the room and returned to the Archives. Stryntner’s snore could still be heard and the door leading to the hallway remained closed.

  They closed the door to the hidden room and Bart relocked it. After sliding the bookcase back to its original position before the door, they took a minute to remove all evidence of the bookcase having been moved.

  “I better get back to Kevik,” Bart said. “After last night I don’t want to leave him alone.”

  When Riyan started to ask him what happened, Chad cut him off by saying, “I’ll tell you later.”

  “How are you going to get out of the Guild?” Riyan asked Bart.

  With a grin, Bart put the hood of his cloak over his head and closed the front. He had the satisfaction of hearing Riyan gasp in surprise when he disappeared. “I’ll manage somehow,” he said. “Tomorrow I’ll see what I can find out about Kartha.” Reappearing again, he turned to Chad. “I’ll meet you in the foyer in two days.”

  “Alright,” he said.

  “Hopefully that will give me enough time to learn something,” said Bart.

  “Maybe I’ll ask Stryntner about it when he gets up,” suggested Riyan.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” replied Bart. When Riyan looked at him he said, “When they, and I mean Durik and his boys, come around asking questions, we don’t want them to find out that we’re interested in Kartha.”

  Sighing, Riyan said, “You got a point.”

  “We have some time,” Bart told the other two. “Things are in motion now but not so much so that we have to take chances. I’ll talk to you in two days.” With that he pulled his hood up again and disappeared.

  “Good luck Bart,” Riyan said as the door to the Archives opened as if by itself.

  “We better get some rest too,” said Chad. “Drills are hard enough as it is.” Riyan patted his friend on the back. “You got that right.” They blew out the candles and set them back on the table where Riyan transcribes. As they left, Stryntner’s snores followed them through the door and into the hallway.

  Once he made it back to Kevik’s estate, he found light still coming from the tower’s third floor window. He quickly stabled his horse then went to the door of the tower and hollered for Kevik. A minute later the front door opened and Kevik let him in.

  “Well?” Kevik asked as Bart walked in.

  On the way up to the third floor, Bart explained what they had found in the room behind the door. He also related to Kevik what Riyan had discovered in the aged tome.

  “‘Ancient ones’ sounds like what we’re after,” commented Kevik.

  “That’s what we thought as well,” replied Bart. Then he turned his gaze full on Kevik. “Ever heard of a place called Kartha? Supposedly it’s sits on the shores of a lake with an island.”

  Kevik sat back and thought about it. “My master once took me to a city three days to the east called Catha,” he said. “It sits on the northern shore of a lake.” He paused a moment as he tried to remember more details. “I do believe there was an island situated in the southern end of the lake.”

  “Are you sure it was named Catha?” Bart asked.

  “Oh yes,” replied Kevik. “I’m positive.” He saw the disappointed look that came over Bart. “It still could be the same place.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As I understand it, Catha was one of the first cities ever settled in this region when our people first arrived from the east,” Kevik explained. “Also keep in mind that what Riyan was reading had been written a very long time ago. It
is possible for a city’s name to change over time. Or the spelling was different then than it is now.” Bart looked with renewed hope at Kevik. “You think so?” Kevik shrugged. “There’s no way to know for sure,” he admitted. “Unless we go there.”

  “There wouldn’t by chance be a map here at the estate would there?” Bart asked hopefully.

  “Might be one in the library in the estate,” he replied. “I know there isn’t one below us in the tower’s library.” After the hours and weeks spent going over the tomes, books, and scrolls on the floor below, he knows for a fact there wasn’t.

  Bart nodded. “I’ll check there in the morning.”

  They sat there quietly as the fire crackled in the fireplace, each dwelling on their own thoughts. Finally, Kevik broke the silence. “I had a thought while you were gone.” Bart raised his eyebrows in question.

  “I got to thinking about the rings that allow us to communicate over distance,” he said.

  “Thought you didn’t want an errant thought of mine to disrupt you in the middle of working magic,” Bart said.

  “I don’t,” he said. “But if you were to keep one of the rings on your finger at all times, then I could put mine on should the need arise. That way there wouldn’t be the risk of experiencing unpleasant effects from a backlash of magical energy when my concentration is broken.”

  “That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Bart said. “I doubt if something would happen so quickly that you wouldn’t be able to put on the ring and contact me.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” Kevik said. He then came to his feet and went into the other room. A moment later he returned with the two rings. After giving one to Bart, he set the other on the table near where his staff sat upon the stands.

  Bart slipped the ring on his left hand and looked questioningly at where the other ring laid on the table.

  “When you’re not here at the estate, I’ll be in the tower,” he explained then pointed to where the ring sat on the table. “If it’s there, it won’t get lost and will be close at hand.” Bart nodded then stood up. “I’m going to do a sweep of the grounds then go to bed,” he announced. “Are you planning on staying here in the tower?”

  “Yes,” Kevik replied. “It’s not so cold now that the storm has passed.”

  “Keep the door locked and shut tight,” Bart advised him. “If you should leave for any reason, put the ring on.”

  “I will,” Kevik said as he escorted Bart to the ground floor to let him out. “Good night, Bart.”

  “See you in the morning,” Bart told him. The door shut behind him as he began his sweep of the grounds. He didn’t really expect another attempt would be made so soon after the previous one had failed disastrously. But Bart wasn’t one to take any chances.

  It took him an hour before he was sure no one was around. While he had been in the stable checking it out, he came to the conclusion that they wouldn’t be needing all the horses they had when they resume their search for the remaining segments of the key. In the morning he’ll take all but five into town and sell them. Some extra coins on their trip definitely wouldn’t hurt.

  Back in his room, he built a fire in the fireplace before settling into bed. He glanced out the window overlooking Kevik’s tower and could see by the light coming from the window that Kevik was still awake. Lying his head down on his pillow Bart wondered if he ever went to sleep.

  A yawn escaped him for the hundredth time yet he refused to give into the need for sleep. After Bart left, he had returned once again to the spell which would complete his staff. He was so close, only one more symbol to figure out and he could go to the Tower of the Magi.

  He already had mastered five spells with which he could prove his skill, all he needed now was the staff. The staff itself was going to be imbued with three spells that could be called forth at need. The three spells were going to be ones which he figured to need on their quest for the Horde.

  The first one will be his new light spell. The second will be one that will cause to glow anything with magical properties. The last was one he had recently come across during his search for the meaning of the unknown symbols. It was one which would create a spray of sparks to arc from the caster, or in this case the end of the staff. He figured it not so much as a weapon, but a way to start a fire in need. Memories of their time along the river beneath the Ruins of Algoth still haunted him.

  He got up and stretched as he made his way to the window. Glancing over to the manor house, he noticed the window to the room in which Bart was staying was dark.

  Kevik figured he must have already gone to sleep.

  Kevik loved the view from the third floor, he could see for miles. The moonlight passing through the sparse cloud cover created an eerie patchwork over the landscape. He pulled his robe closer as an errant breeze passed through the window.

  Quiet. Other than the crackle of the fire behind him the world was silent. Then off in the distance a wolf’s cry came to him as it howled at the moon. He let the tranquility of the moment ease the stress he had been under while working to decipher the symbols.

  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and as he let it out, felt his muscles begin to relax.

  “I’ve been working too hard,” he said to himself.

  Another yawn broke free and he realized that he had almost fallen asleep standing before the window. Opening his eyes again, he closed the shutter and turned back towards his work desk. “I better continue this in the morning,” he mumbled.

  He wet two of his fingers then used them to pinch the life from the burning candle wicks. Once the only light left was that coming from the fireplace, he pulled his cot from the other room and set it close to the warmth of the fire. A couple more logs on the fire to keep the room warm then he laid down on the cot.

  He closed his eyes and began drifting off to sleep. Before sleep completely claimed him, the symbols that he had been working on for his spell began going through his mind.

  Not really concentrating on them, he slipped further towards sleep. Then the last symbol which had been giving him so much aggravation joined the others.

  Kevik hovered in that place between the waking world and the land where dreams were born. Symbols danced and gyrated, all but the last moving in perfect harmony. The lone symbol finally joined with the others but quickly fell from the dance. Every time the symbol tried to join with the others, it lost its place and was forced out of the harmonic pattern.

  Time and again the symbol worked its way into the harmonic flow of the others, and each time was pushed out. The symbol longed to join with the others. It stood there watching as its fellows created patterns of breathtaking beauty. Finally giving up on ever joining its fellows, it stood there feeling dejected.

  After what seemed a very long time, four of its fellows broke free from the others and came to it. Hardly daring to believe what was going on, the symbol stood there motionless.

  The four symbols came, each grabbing hold of the lone symbol. Allowing it’s fellows to draw it in with the others, it began to feel the rhythm of dance. It let the four direct its movement as its movements started meshing with the others. Then, the four symbols let go.

  Scared that it would again be expelled from the rhythmic dance, the symbol froze. It felt itself begin to lose the cohesion it had known just a brief moment before, when suddenly one of the four came and nudged it into motion. Then from the side, another of the four came and propelled it forward.

  Still unsure what to do, it shut off all sensory input except for the rhythm of the dance. It allowed the rhythm to flow through him, lead him, become him. He lost himself in the rhythm of the dance. Joy began to spring within his being as the rhythm took over.

  Opening himself up once more, he found that he was weaving with the others in perfect harmony.

  Yes! the symbol cried as he meshed in the harmonics of the dance.

  “That’s it!” cried Kevik as he came back to wakefulness. The dream, if it had been such, was now forgotte
n. He understood in perfect clarity what he had been doing wrong.

  Springing up from the cot, he rushed over to the table where his staff laid upon the two stands.

  In his excitement, the lethargy which he had felt earlier was gone. Adrenalin coursed through his body as he took hold of his staff. With utter confidence, he began the spell which would infuse his staff with power. A yellowish glow enveloped the staff after the utterance of the first word. With each proceeding word of power the glow intensified.

  When the last word was spoken, the yellow glow took on a more reddish hue.

  Kevik almost cried out in exultation when he saw the reddish hue develop. The reddish hue meant the staff was ready to receive the spells which it would hold and be able to perform from then on. He didn’t have very much time, a matter of mere minutes in which to cast the three spells the staff was to hold.

  Before he cast the first spell, he took several calming breaths to settle himself. The last thing he wanted to do now was to misspeak one of the spells in his excitement. When he grew calm, he cast his new light spell.

  The spell was absorbed into the staff the instant he cast it and the reddish hue grew darker. Encouraged, he cast the next spell, the one to detect items with magical properties. When that spell was complete, he could feel the staff take hold of it and draw it into itself just as it had with the first one. The glow deepened still further.

  Kevik trembled with excitement. His excitement was such that he had to forcibly calm himself in order to continue with the last spell. If all went as planned, the glow should flare a dark red with the absorption of the third spell, and then disappear.

  Another calming breath then he was ready. Steeling himself, he began casting the third and final spell. Again, the staff drew the magics within itself and once the last word was spoken, the glow flared red and winked out.

 

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