“Is that it?” Krenin stared out from under his hood studying the run down wooden structure.
“Do you see any other buildings with broken antlers over the door?” Demetrix asked sarcastically, concealing his smirk.
The out of place half-orc searched the surrounding buildings. “I don’t see any.”
“Nevermind. It’s a shame Malakai couldn’t be here with us. I always underestimated his ability to baby sit.”
“That doesn’t seem like a good idea. How would the baby breathe if you sat on it?”
“Point proven.”
“Quiet down. You’re drawing too much attention.” Gareth casually searched the street, hoping they weren’t being followed.
“Here he comes.” Demetrix gestured toward his brother making his way across the street.
Ravion rushed across the dirt roadway, rejoining the others. Looking around he made sure nobody was listening. “I spoke to the barkeep. I think we may be in over our heads. Not only is room two the entire second floor, but it’s already been paid for along with unlimited pleasantries.”
Gareth kept watch searching for anyone out of place. Refusing to let his guard down, he spoke. “Sounds like the perfect trap to catch a couple of fall guys.”
“What kinds of pleasantries are we talking about? Food, drink, women?” Demetrix couldn’t help but smile at the possibilities.
“And then some as it was explained to me. It sounded a little too good to be true. I fear accepting the room would be no different than signing a death warrant. If not for the last meal and luxuries in a town such as this, but for the simple fact that high profiles aren’t easily hidden. The moment the orcs come for us they’d know right where we are.”
“Maybe they don’t have to.” Demetrix let his scheming come to the surface in the form of a sinister smile.
“What do you mean?” Ravion shot him a quick glance.
“Well, we all want to go home and this guy offered us a way. Whether it’s true or not, we have to check it out. If he's lying, we move on. If he’s telling the truth, it’s our salvation. As far as the room goes, he just said further direction would be found in room two. Not that we have to lodge there. It seems to me if a few of us partake in a couple drinks and just so happen to make some noise, most of the attention would be claimed. That would allow one of us free rein to explore the upper levels. If that someone just so happened to stumble upon room two, I don’t see any harm in observing whatever information may or may not be present. At least then we’d know what we’re dealing with and if the price is too high or not.”
Ravion glanced at Gareth with a slight shrug. “He has a point.”
“Krenin volunteer to drink!”
Gareth shot a stern gaze to the half-orc. “If we were home it wouldn’t be a big deal for you to play the distraction. Unfortunately, we’re not. We can’t risk you being caught if things get out of hand. It’s best you hang back as a lookout in the event we have to make a quick exit. I'd feel more comfortable having you as back up if we need it.”
Krenin lowered his head. “I understand.”
“Who’s going upstairs?” Gareth glanced at Ravion, and back to Demetrix.
“Ravion’s already made contact with the barkeep. It might be in our best interest if the rest of us remain disassociated. I’m usually up for the sneaky breaking and entering kind of thing. But I wouldn’t want to overlook a small, yet important detail and mess up our chance to get home.”
“It makes sense for me to follow through since I’ve already spoken with him. I got a pretty good look at the keys behind the bar. I don’t think I'd be able to pick the lock if I go up during a distraction and if I accept the key from the barkeep they'll know someone's claimed the room.”
“I suppose I could always sneak away before the fun starts and unlock the door. Then later on you can come by and check it out. Just try to do it quickly. I’d hate to open the door for someone else to take what we came for.”
“It sounds like we’ve got ourselves a plan. Krenin, how about you go in before we do and take a seat in one of the corners. I’d like you close, but not in the mix.” Gareth handed him a couple silver coins. “Get yourself something to drink.”
Krenin nodded and stuffed the coin into his pouch. Adjusting his hood, he staggered across the street and marched through the door.
The stench of stale booze and pipe smoke was nearly overbearing to his heightened sense of smell. The chatter was loud for the time of day. He stood a few inches taller than the tallest human.
Bending his knees, he adjusted to match as close as possible without drawing attention. Finding an open table near the rear wall he pulled out the heavy wooden chair and took a seat, letting the table hide his true height.
A moment later a middle-aged woman with long, red hair approached. She wore a tan dress with maroon top and had a leather corset pulled tight around her waist, causing her bosom to pop. Peering down at the hooded man she gave a heavy sigh. “Name's Melynda. Somethin’ I can get ya’ to drink, doll?”
He swallowed hard. The thought of what he’d say if he made it this far hadn’t occurred to him. Sliding one of the silver coins across the table he quickly hid his green hand and forced his lips around his tusk, forcing an impersonation of his best human accent. “I’ll have an Ale.”
“Back in a minute.” She snatched the coin and disappeared behind the lingering smoke.
Chapter XV
Tribulations
Demetrix darted up the stairs, confident he hadn’t been seen. Reaching the first landing he paused. The stairs continued upward running in the other direction. Glancing along the corridor he noticed a singular oaken door at the far end. He recalled what Ravion had said. This has to be it. Cautiously approaching he studied the heavy door held solid in its frame. Ornately casted iron spanned from the hinges and sprawled out across the thick wooden planks coming to rest in an intertwining pattern around the latch and knob. Kneeling down he stared intently at the keyhole, having never seen one of its design. Truth be told there were many locks he’d never attempted to open, but he'd witnessed more of the dragon's time in his body than he cared to admit. It shouldn't be that hard. All locks are basically the same, save for a few minor changes here and there.
Reaching into the hidden pocket of his armor's inner liner he found the thin leather pouch housing his picks. Lifting the fold he removed a bar and hook. Carefully placing the bar into the hole, he applied a light amount of tension on the tumbler. A bit more vigorously he buried the hook into the lock and wiggled it back and forth, feeling for the pins. He counted four pins. Going to the furthest one he carefully pressed it past the shear point, keeping tension on the tumbler. If he let off for the briefest moment the pin was likely to spring back up. Working his way toward him, Demetrix felt the final pin click into place. A smile came to his face. He'd done it. Pushing against the bar the tumbler rotated and came to a stop, telling him the pins had reset on the other side. Ensuring his success he grabbed the knob and twisted, letting the door crack open. Peeking inside he glanced around, making sure the room was vacant. Seeing nobody he pulled the door to the seal, careful to keep it from latching into the frame. While it was unlocked there was no sense in taking unneeded chances. He spun around and made way for the stairs. Gareth had a head start and he wasn't going to let him win so easily.
***
The door creaked open revealing a large, abandoned room. It was fully furnished and seemingly free of dust. Ravion stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Despite the glass windows lining each of the side walls the filtered sunlight did little to brighten the large chamber. He glanced around spotting several lanterns resting upon various ledges about the room. Their shields were free of soot, suggesting they hadn't been used since the room was last cleaned. He thought about lighting one of the lamps, but that would do little other than announce its occupancy. He didn't need the light to see in this place. His vision seemed to work just find in low light. It was the total dark
that caused him problems. Scanning the room he noticed the chest lying at the foot of the bed. Slowly approaching, he listened to the floorboards creak under his weight. Kneeling down he slowly lifted the heavy, domed lid, making sure there were no trip wires or traps attached to it. Confident in their absence he laid the top back, letting it rest against the polished foot board of the perfectly made bed.
Peeking inside it was empty save for a rolled, tan colored hide, wrapped several times by a much darker strap. Lifting the roll Ravion unwrapped the hide and pulled it open, finding a wooden canister inside. Hundreds of runes were carved into the cylinder, covering every inch of it. He looked for a seam or an end cap, but couldn't find any. The secret must lie in the runes. Focusing on the strange etchings he felt a warmth wash over him. They were foreign to him. Nothing about their design made any sense to the numerous languages he'd studied, yet he couldn’t help but feel that he should be able to read it. Sighing heavily he felt it crack in his hand. Inspecting the hollow tube, he noticed several pieces of parchment rolled together and stuffed inside. Pulling them free he separated and laid them out along the bed, studying each one for any sense of relevance.
A loud crash echoed though the walls, distracting him. Shaking his head he returned his focus to the parchment. “They’ve certainly managed to draw some attention.”
“Indeed they have.”
Ravion jumped. Drawing his sword and spinning around he found a familiar face at the door.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Krizere?” Ravion paused. “What are you doing here? You said you’d meet us in three days.”
“Again, my apologies.” He raised his hand, gesturing the weapon down. “I had to be certain you were who I’d hoped. My eyes aren't what they once were. I couldn't risk being mistaken. I’m glad to see I wasn’t.” He pointed to the laid out parchment behind the armed man.
Ravion lowered his sword and glanced back. “I've gone over each one of them. I'm not finding anything that’s supposed to help us.”
Krizere folded his cloak over his arm and took a step closer. “That's because the parchment is of no use to you. Simple maps I’ve drawn over the years. Much like literature, maps are a rare commodity. They're next to useless if you don't understand how to read them.”
“Why’d you send us here if these have nothing to do with the way home?”
“The parchment isn't why I sent you here. Their case is. Think of it as a test. The runes scribed into that cylinder are of an ancient dialect from my homeland. I scribed them long ago as a personal keepsake. I knew I was the only one from my land here, so I imbued the very dirt of Ur into the runes. Only one who has walked her fields can open it. As I said, I had to be sure of your validity before I agreed to aid you.”
Ravion sheathed his sword and stacked the parchment. “Now that I’ve passed your test…” he paused, rolling and pressing them into the tube. Pushing the two halves together he watched the seam disappear. “What would you have of me?” He choked his annoyance out of sight. It would cloud his mind and that wouldn’t aid him.
“I understand your frustration. But I assure you, you're much closer than you think.” Krizere pulled out a chair and took a seat. “Hidden beneath this city is a vast library. One of the last this land has to offer. The book keeper has one in particular that we need if we're going to find the portal. The problem lies in the fact that he won’t give it freely.”
“What’s he want in exchange?”
“Short form, the magistrate’s scepter.”
“How about long form?”
Krizere sighed, resting his elbow against the wooden armrest and pressing his cheek against his knuckles. “Magic here is more of a curse than a blessing. Those who possess it shine like a beacon and, sooner or later, someone will always come to answer its call. When you’re the sole guardian of not only one of the last, but one of the largest libraries in the land, magical tomes can be difficult to hide.” Sitting up he continued his tale. “Long ago the keeper had a rod that was capable of shielding the magic some of the tomes possess. Due to the actions of a foolish young boy the rod was stolen. When the boy tried to leave town he was stopped by the magistrate's guard. They took the rod from him as payment for alleged crimes. The keeper has since resorted to less effective means of hiding the library, though it's only a matter of time. Let's just say if the wrong person shows up our way home disappears forever.”
“So you're saying the rod has to be returned to the library. This librarian would be willing to give us the book then?” Ravion took a seat on the bed, listening to the story through the commotion going on below them.
“I believe he'd be more susceptible to negotiations if it were returned, though I can't guarantee anything.”
“Great. So we're still working with uncertainty.” Ravion sighed. “Where can I find this rod?”
“The magistrate of this fair city has some extracurricular activities she'd prefer didn't become common knowledge. One of these activities is embezzling from the city coffers. The rod, once it was taken from the boy, caught her eye. I'm sure it's stashed with the other treasures she had hidden away.”
“You want me to break into the magistrate's private stash of illegal goods and rummage through to find a magical rod; which is equally illegal, I might add? All to return it to an illegal library so its guardian might give me the book that might lead me to the portal so we can go home? Am I missing anything?”
“You missed that the breaking and entering, the book itself, and the possession of a book are all illegal. And the portal home is probably someplace we shouldn't be either. Which makes it trespassing, which is also illegal.”
“Is that all?” Ravion chuckled. “Well, I suppose I've faced worse odds. I can't seem to think of any right now, but I'm sure I have at some point.”
“You'll do fine. You've made it this far unscathed. When I found the mirror I was unarmed, unprepared, and wearing rags.”
“Perhaps you could tell me how you came to learn so much about this?”
Krizere smiled, adjusting the collar of his tunic. “Well, that boy in my story. He grew up.”
Another crash rang out, shaking the walls. “What in the nine hells are they doing now?” Ravion jumped up and ran to the door. Quickly making his way to the stairs he froze when he saw several orcs at the door dragging a limp Krenin across the floor.
“It seems you’re a man down. Can’t say I’m surprised, sending a half-orc in as a decoy. I’d recommend you go in tonight. When you're done, I've a feeling this city will be crawling with orcs. And if you wait for morning, it's unlikely your friend will be able to join you.” Krizere patted him on the shoulder and marched past, disappearing down the steps.
***
Demetrix glanced up from his cards, watching Ravion dart up the stairs. Shifting his gaze around the room no one else seemed to notice. His sight ended on Gareth sitting across from him. He gave a gentle nod, hoping the others at the table wouldn’t take notice. He picked three cards from his hand and laid them face down on the table. “I’ll take three.” Sliding them toward Gareth he stole a glance at the eyes around him, taking comfort in their focus on their own hands. Flexing his wrist, he slid one of the cards into his sleeve and pulled another.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Gareth shouted across the table, dropping his own hand so all could see.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play me a fool. I saw you slide that card into your sleeve.” Gareth grabbed the young rogue’s wrist and twisted, exposing the hidden card.
“Huh? I wonder how that got in there.” Demetrix smiled, unable to steel his face.
“I don’t contend with cheaters.” Gareth released his grip, bringing his other hand around in a fist.
Demetrix anticipated the hit. Throwing his weight into it he fell atop the table and rolled, grabbing the edge to topple it with him. Cards exploded into the air flying all directions. The room hushed, w
atching the spectacle before them.
Gareth stormed toward the prone archer ready for reimbursement. Demetrix kicked out, hooking Gareth's leg. He pulled, watching the one-eyed warrior buckle beside him.
Gareth let his legs fold. Falling quicker than he intended he reached out, grabbing one of the empty chairs. Shoving with all his strength it crashed into another table, toppling it. The men jumped up, enraged at their ruined game. In the excitement one of them spilled his mug on another. That one, in turn, hit him. Moments later the tavern was in full brawl.
Gareth felt someone grab his cloak, pulling him into the air. Unable to get his feet beneath him he crashed back down, hearing a large mass fall beside him.
Demetrix watched one of the large men reach down and grab Gareth. Throwing his weight he kicked out, catching the man's legs. Buckling his knees the man fell, dropping Gareth. Angry patrons filled the room breaking chairs, throwing tables, and using anything they could find to cause pain to the others.
Krenin stood, swinging his half-full tankard into the face of one of the larger men. The wooden mug collapsed against him, sloshing the bronze liquid across the man’s tunic. The man landed hard on the floor showered in bits of wood and stale ale.
Demetrix whipped his legs around transferring his weight and landing on his feet. Grabbing hold of Gareth he pulled him to his feet just in time to dodge a swing from one of the enraged brawlers. “I think it’s time we get out of here. Things are beginning to get out of control.”
“Agreed.!” Gareth glanced around the room finding the half-orc near the door. He stood out, like a beast among sheep. The patrons gave him a wide berth, uncertain if they wanted to engage anything that resembled one of the orcs. “Krenin, time to go!”
The half-orc walked toward them, unmolested. They made their way through the barroom toward the kitchen. Rushing down the narrow hall, they turned into the storeroom. Gareth shoved a shelf to the side, revealing a wooden door way in the floor. Demetrix grabbed the hole in the wood and pulled it open. Quickly jumping down, he rolled to the side and waited for the others.
The Order of the Trident: Speculum (Eldarlands Book 2) Page 19
