D&D - Mystara - Penhaligon Trilogy 02

by The Dragon's Tomb - Heinrich, D. J (v1. 1)

  Jo used her knife to flick off the leeches that hadn’t yet attached themselves to her skin. She shuddered as she looked down at the six still remaining on her body. Little tendrils of blood trickled out of the leeches’ mouths and spread across her still-wet skin.

  Desperation welling in her eyes, Jo turned to the rest of the party. They had already landed, stripped, and begun plucking their own leeches. Jo picked up her knife from the pile of clothes at her feet. Shuddering one last time, she began digging the leeches off her body. If I die, I die, she thought fatalistically. Better that than feed these bloodsuckers any more. Jo flicked the last one away, stabbed it with her knife, then turned to her clothing.

  Beside the pile, a naked Brisbois stood looking at her. Jo felt herself flush with embarrassment, then anger. She picked up her tunic and bridled at the dishonored knight. Brisbois merely arched an eyebrow and then held out a small, wet pouch. He said, “At least rub the salt in your wounds.” He turned on his heel and walked over to his own pile of clothing. Jo caught herself looking at the man’s blood-and-salt-pasted body and turned away. She pulled out a handful of wet salt and rubbed her wounds, wincing. Jo inspected her clothing, found five more leeches, which she destroyed, and then dressed.

  As the others finished tending their leech bites, Jo hurried to Carsig. The gelding’s head hung low, and spasms rippled across his hide. Quickly Jo applied salt to the horse’s bloodsuckers; she crushed them beneath the heels of her boots after they fell to the stony ground. She stroked Carsig’s velvety nose and whispered, “Don’t give out on me, boy. I need you. We can’t stop now.” The gelding pricked his ears, then began snuffling the ground for edible grasses. Jo began tending the other animals.

  Nearly half an hour passed before the leeches were all removed and wounds attended. Jo squinted at the sun lowering in the west, then picked up Carsig’s rein from the ground and turned to the others. “We’ve got a good three hours before nightfall. Let’s head out.”

  Karleah wrung out the hem of one sleeve and snapped, “I’m wet, I’m tired, and I don’t want to go on any more today!” Her swollen lips were turned down in disgruntle- ment. Jo looked at the others, wondering if she herself looked as bitten.

  Brisbois shook his head and said, “I’m not budging, either.” He eyed Jo slyly from the corner of his eyes. Be charitable, Jo thought. The man’s next words dispelled her thoughts. “It’s obvious you don’t know what you’re doing out here, particularly after you didn’t travel a few miles north to the better crossing point.” Brisbois shrugged nonchalantly and sat down on a rock.

  Jo stared at the man, wondering if he was telling the truth. She couldn’t let him get a rise out of her, however, so she said calmly, “Be that as it may, we are now across the Hillfollow. It’s time to be on the move again.”

  “We’re wet, cold, and tired,” Brisbois snapped. His hazel eyes flashed at Jo. “And I say we set up camp just up there on that hill.” The man gestured behind Jo.

  The squire gritted her teeth. I can’t lose face! she thought angrily. I can’t let Brisbois take over! In a tense tone, Jo said, “And I say we move out—now.”

  She locked eyes with Brisbois, and the man raised a sardonic eyebrow. Jo’s eyes narrowed as she remembered that Flinn often used the same expression; on the dishonored knight, the expression seemed almost blasphemous. Brisbois broke gaze first. He turned to Braddoc and said with a smile, “Don’t you think we should camp and rest, Braddoc? It doesn’t make any sense to get in a few more hours of weary travel, does it?”

  The dwarf looked at Jo for a moment, his expression inscrutable. Slowly he turned his gaze to Brisbois, who smiled, then to Karleah and Dayin. The wizardess was plainly out of sorts, and the boy was obviously upset by both Karleah’s condition and the tension that had built in the group. Finally, Braddoc turned back to Jo and said solidly, “I agree with Brisbois that it’s not the most sensible idea to continue traveling today.” Braddoc paused, and Jo pursed her lips. She seemed unable to turn away from the dwarf’s single-eyed gaze. “However,” Braddoc continued, then nodded reassuringly, “you’re in charge here, Jo. I stand by you.” The dwarf folded his arms across his chest and splayed his stance.

  Jo stared at her friend, and never had she felt more grateful for Braddoc’s steadfast loyalty. She flicked her gray eyes toward the knight. All right, Brisbois, she thought contemptuously. Make your next move.

  As if he had read her thoughts, Brisbois arched his brow again and smiled smugly. He turned to Karleah and Dayin and said, “And what do you two say?” His voice was warm with honeyed tones. “Surely you’d rather set up camp and warm up?”

  Dayin put his hand on Karleah’s arm, and the two looked at each other. Jo swore they could communicate without words. Karleah turned to Brisbois and scowled, “Every bone in my body, every muscle, agrees with you, Brisbois.” The old woman nodded at Jo and then continued, “But I’m with Jo. Dayin, too. You can stay here, for all we care ” As one, she and Dayin turned toward their mounts.

  Jo took a step toward Brisbois, who slowly rose. She looked the tall man in the eye and said smoothly, “I’d rather you stayed behind, Brisbois, but you are my bondsman, and Sir Graybow told you to accompany me.” Her face hardened, as did her voice. “So mount up.”

  Jo s eyes glittered. “We re going to Threshold and get that box before it gets to Armstead.”

  They made camp that night on a rocky ridge that rose above the desolate Wulfholde Hills. The stony crown of the ridge was rimmed by scrubby brush that would mask a fire from travelers on the barrens. Jo was pleased: she knew she wouldn’t be able to forestall a mutiny if she denied the others a fire tonight. Her companions wearily tended their mounts, changed out of their damp clothes, and lay down beside the meager fire Jo had built. Only Dayin and Brisbois bothered with pulling any food from their ration packs before falling soundly asleep.

  By the stillness of her companions, Jo assumed she had been chosen for first watch. That suited her fine: it would give her a chance to contact Flinn through the stone she had received. Making certain the animals were properly hobbled and her companions fully asleep, Jo took a coal- tipped branch from the fire and ascended to the top of the rocky knoll. She scanned the black hills around the camp, looking for signs of the bandits rumored to roam these wastes. Nothing was moving through the Wulfholdes that night, nothing but the wind in the rugged grasses.

  The gem was already warm when Jo pulled it from her belt pouch. It rarely cooled, and Jo drew comfort from its heat, as though Flinn’s spirit were beside her, his hand resting gently on her hip. Cradling the gem reverently in her palms Jo peered down into its deep, glistening depths.

  “Flinn, it has been so long,” she whispered, tears rising in her eyes. She dashed them away with one hand and steeled her nerve, then lowered the gem toward the red- hot embers. Waves of heat rose in the wan light of the coals, enfolding the gem and stinging her fingertips.

  Then, in the dim glow of the embers, a face began to form. Shadowy and indistinct, the face might have been a trick of the light, a suggestion imposed on the facets by her aching heart. Whether true or illusory, one thing was certain; the face was Flinn’s.

  “Johauna,” he seemed to say, his lips moving in the ghostly shades of the gem.

  “Oh, Flinn,” Jo whispered, her voice cracking, the resolve to be strong fading from her. “Oh, Flinn, I’ve missed you so.”

  “And I have missed you, my love, Johauna,” the shade answered stiffly, his voice faraway and sibilant.

  “I did as you would have done, my love,” Johauna said. “I granted Brisbois mercy, though every part of me cried out to kill him. I—”

  “You still have my sword,” Flinn interrupted. “You still bear Wyrmblight in my honor, do you not?”

  Jo nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “Yes, Flinn, yes I do.”

  “The Great Green tried to destroy it once. Still he hungers to destroy it. I can feel his hatred in this place of shadows.”

  �
��Yes,” Johauna said, a nervous laugh on her lips. “But he couldn’t destroy it, Flinn. He can’t. I knew he wouldn’t be able to. Wyrmblight bears your glory.”

  Flinn’s face darkened, and for a frantic moment, Jo thought it might disappear in the depths of the stone. She lowered the gem toward the embers, ignoring the searing heat on her fingertips. The face brightened, and Flinn whispered again, “Is the blade speaking to you, my dear?” “It is,” Jo replied with a tearful smile. “It speaks often to me. It tells me to have faith.”

  A steel-edged smile formed on Flinn’s face, and he nodded. “Ah, I see. Yes, Johauna, have faith. Keep your faith in Wyrmblight.”

  “The bards are singing of your glory, my love,” Johauna broke in, wanting to turn the conversation from the sword. “They say you are becoming an Immortal. They say you will be coming back to Penhaligon.”

  A light seemed to dawn on Flinn’s face, and his smile deepened. “Yes, the bards sing the truth. I am coming back, Johauna. I am coming back to you, to fight by your side.”

  “When?” Jo asked, the word little more than a breathless gasp on her lips. But the crystal was dark, and the image was gone.

  Chapter XII

  After camping for the night, the five riders reached Threshold midafternoon of the next day. Braddoc’s pony, who had picked up a stone that had badly bruised his hoof, was on the verge of exhaustion, and Carsig still hadn’t recovered from the strain of escaping the sinkhole. The two mules and Dayin’s pony also seemed weary. Only Karleah’s gray mare and Brisbois’s piebald seemed still fresh. Jo realized she had misjudged Brisbois’s choice in horseflesh; although the mare’s conformation left much to be desired, the paint was a game creature.

  Jo and the others approached Threshold from the east. They came down from the Wulfholdes into the valley that housed the tiny village. Peasant farmers stopped their tilling to stare at the strangers, and a blacksmith at the edge of the town set down a red-hot horseshoe long enough to study them. Jo nodded to a few people, only one of whom reluctantly nodded back. Friendly group, she thought ironically. Hope it’s only because we re coming in from the wrong side of town. Jo recalled the maps she’d been shown, then looked eastward; they were coming in on the western branch of the Duke’s Road, which passed i through harsh, bandit-ridden territory before arriving in Threshold. She was thankful they hadn’t encountered any of the wasteland’s inhabitants.

  Though it had its own garrison, the village was even smaller than Bywater. Six buildings composed the center of town, and perhaps a dozen rough cottages surrounded the wooden buildings. Jo saw two taverns—the Cock’s Crow and the Maiden’s Blush—and scowled. Two drinking establishments for one tiny village meant only one thing: a town divided. They’d have to be careful. Appear to side with one faction or the other, and they’d likely get no help from either. Johauna Menhir shook her head and turned Carsig toward the rundown stable. A sign, hanging by a single rusted hook, displayed the place’s illegible title.

  Jo dismounted, and the others behind her did the same. Brisbois tossed his reins to Dayin and said, “I’m getting a drink, boy. Take care of my horse.” Jo scowled as the man turned on his heel and began walking away.

  “Wait, Brisbois!” Jo called out sternly. The knight did not pause, and Jo clenched her fists. She raised her voice and said, “Bondsman! Attend me!” Jo’s unblinking gaze apparently bored into the man’s back, for Brisbois hesitated, then stopped. He raised his hands to his side and cocked his head. Jo wondered if she would have to say anything more, but then the man slowly turned around. He shook his head, a sour smile on his face.

  “Whatever you say, MistressBrisbois said with a sneer. He lowered his hands and walked back to the group. Dayin held out the horse’s rein, and Brisbois snatched it from the boy.

  Jo’s face hardened in response both to Brisbois’s words and to his callous treatment of Dayin. She was about to rebuke the man, but the stable door behind her opened. Jo turned around to see a slight, aged man standing halfway behind the door. Only his balding head and his right arm were visible as he looked inquiringly at the people before him. His pale, colorless eyes were magnified by round lenses that balanced on his nose. Jo had seen glasses before, but never this close. She was intrigued.

  Jo cleared her throat and said, “Ah, good sir—” she gestured up at the sign “—I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t make out your name.”

  The man glanced up at the sign and spat tobacco juice from the corner of his mouth before replying. “Sign says ‘Gelar,’ but that was the previous owner. Name’s Hruddel. What can I do for you?” He blinked at Jo, and she was fascinated by how his thin eyelids became wide when they fluttered behind the thick lenses of his glasses.

  “We’d like to lodge our horses for the night, if we may,” Jo began politely.

  Hruddel looked at her yellow tunic suspiciously and then at the stained but still-recognizable blue of Sir Brisbois’s. Hruddel turned back to Jo. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with those four Penhaligon guards who were here the other day, would you?” The hosder opened the door reluctantly, and Jo smiled at him brightly as she murmured thanks.

  “Why, no, good sir. We aren’t connected with the people you mentioned.” Jo looked suddenly concerned. “Did they do something wrong? Where are they now? I will be sure to report them to the castellan!” Jo looked about in pretended anger.

  Hruddel shook his head and said quickly, “Oh, no, they’ve gone. Rest assured. They left day before yesterday.” Hruddel continued speaking, voicing his displeasure over the guards’ treatment of him and his stable girl, but Jo heard only “day before yesterday.” How are we going to catch them in time? she thought desperately.

  The hostler turned to the others and began tending to the animals. Karleah came up to Jo while the younger woman was lost in thought and said, “You couldn’t have known the box was already gone, Jo. Besides, this is the path laid out for us by Sir Graybow.”

  Jo turned her frightened eyes to the wizardess. “But I should have known! You were right when you said I have no intuition!” Johauna whispered.

  “I was angry, you mean.” The old crone shook her head. “You did what you did; it cannot be undone.”

  Though Karleah and Jo had been talking quietly, the hostler’s ears were sharp. He turned from the stall where he was putting Carsig and called out to Jo, “Did you say something about a box? Those guards had a box. Strange one, at that.”

  Jo and Karleah exchanged glances, then Jo turned to Hruddel and smiled. She moved closer to the short man. “These guards had a box, you say?”

  Hruddel looked down at the straw on the dirt floor and shifted nervously. Jo glanced at Braddoc and Brisbois, who were both standing near the man, and jerked her head. They took the hint and busied themselves by putting the rest of the animals into their stalls. Jo walked closer to Hruddel, then leaned over the stall door. She smiled softly at the man, who stared at her from behind the thick lenses of his glasses. .

  “Hruddel,” Jo asked frankly, “what do you know about the box?”

  Hruddel responded by taking a step closer and leaning confidentially toward Jo. “There’s something about that box that ain’t right,” he said, shaking his head worriedly. “It swallows magic, that’s what.”

  “What’s that?” Karleah snapped. The old woman flicked a glance at Jo as if to apologize for the interruption. Jo shook her head faindy.

  Hruddel looked at the old woman, his lips pressing into a line. “Karleah’s all right,” the squire said.

  Hruddel blinked as he nodded, then said to Karleah, “You know it swallows magic then, I s’pose? When the guards held up that charm of the constable’s and it disappeared, we were all amazed.”

  “Disappeared?” Karleah said sharply. Her black eyes had drawn to thin slits.

  “Aye, the guards waved the amulet over the box,” Hruddel said. His eyes widened in remembered amazement. “And then the box opened up all on its own and swallowed the charm.”

&nb
sp; “Swallowed it? The box opened? Did anything come out?” Jo asked in alarm.

  “Nothing—nothing I never saw, anyway,” Hruddel answered. “The lid opened, and this purplish light shone, and then the constable’s neck chain was gone. Just like that.”

  Jo was about to ask the hostler more questions, but Karleah touched the squire’s arm and said, “Thank you, Hruddel. This seems a fine stable.” The old woman pressed a golden coin into the man’s palm.

  Hruddel pulled his forelock and nodded his thanks. He looked from Karleah to Jo and then asked, “Will you be staying long, miss?”

  “No. We’ll be off in the morning, Hruddel,” Jo responded. “Can you recommend a place to stay?”

  “There’s rooms to let over at the Maiden,” Hruddel answered. “Or old Keeper Grainger lets people stay in her barn, if you’re short on gold. She’s a might on the strange side, though.” Hruddel looked down at the coin in his hand, then he tested it between his teeth. When his teeth sunk lightly into the soft metal, he pocketed the coin inside his waistband. Hruddel nodded, well pleased.

  Jo, thinking about the two taverns and the obvious feud in the town, decided on the barn. They could handle an eccentric old biddy. Jo smothered a laugh. Isn’t that what we do with Karleah? she thought. Besides, that’ll save us some of Sir Graybow’s money. Jo set her hand on Hrud- del’s and asked, “Why is she called ‘Keeper’?”

  Hruddel shrugged and said, “No one knows why, leastways no one I know. Her mother was called Keeper, and her mother before her. The Grainger women have always been called Keeper.”

  Jo nodded and then asked, “Can you point us the way to Keeper Grainger’s then? And does this woman serve meals?”

  “She will if you ask her to,” Hruddel answered. “She’s got the last place on the north end of town, even past the garrison.”

  Jo checked Wyrmblight’s fastenings, then grabbed her belongings and said to the hostler, “Thank you, Hruddel. We’ll be by in the morning for our mounts. Oh, and can you give a bran mash to the gelding and the one pony? They’ve had rough going the past two days.”