Quest's end bk-3

by Brian S. Pratt

  “The river.”

  Standing across from the building, Bart nodded to himself. This would work. The building in question was at least four stories tall and its roof came to within thirty feet of the top of the wall. The rest of the way he’d have to climb.

  At the present, the immediate vicinity before the building was fairly quiet. Those searching for him were off in other parts of the city. After a final glance to make sure the coast was still clear, he crossed the street.

  Bart made his way to the front door of the residence. The windows on all four levels were dark and not a sound could be heard coming from within. He used his picks to open the lock and was soon inside.

  It was a residence of a wealthy individual, possibly a merchant. Moving quickly, he found the stairway leading to the upper floors. On the second floor landing was a window overlooking the street. He paused a moment to check for any search parties in the area. When he didn’t find any, he continued up to the third, and then the fourth level. Snores were heard coming from down the hallway as he reached the fourth level landing. There had to be a roof access somewhere on this level. Starting with the room closest to the stairwell, he began searching for it.

  One by one he searched the rooms on this level, all that was except for the one from which the snores were originating. The door to that room was cracked open and he paused a moment to glance in. In the gloom all he could see was the indistinct shape of someone sleeping in a bed. From the deep vibrations of the snores, he knew it to be a man. Leaving the doorway, he continued searching for the way to the roof.

  First a library, then a storeroom, then two other bedrooms that looked to have at one time housed children but were now unused. When he finished with the last room, he knew that he was going to have to go into the room where the man was sleeping. Moving down the hallway to the partially opened door, he gently pushed it open, all the while keeping an eye on the form in the bed.

  Once the door had been opened wide enough, he slipped into the room and stopped. From just within the doorway, he scanned the bedroom ceiling for any sign of a roof access. Not finding any, his eyes fell upon a large rectangular shadow in the wall on the far side of the room. Figuring it to be either a closet or storeroom, he knew the access had to be in there.

  Stepping ever so softly, he crossed the room to the doorway. Eyes fixed on the sleeping form, he was soon to realize that it wasn’t just one individual in the bed, but two. The second most likely being the man’s wife or mistress.

  It turned out the doorway opened onto a small closet. With no light by which to see, he felt around the sides until encountering slats set into the back wall. Nodding to himself, he tested the slats to make sure they would hold his weight, then started climbing to the top. Once his feet were on the third slat, his hand encountered the trapdoor to the roof. It took only a moment to find the bolt securing the trapdoor and release it.

  He paused for a second and made sure the sleepers hadn’t been disturbed. When again the snores came, he gently pushed up on the trapdoor. Hinges squealed to a small extent as he raised it several inches. Looking through the opening, he saw the roof was quiet and dark. Opening the trapdoor further, he climbed onto the roof.

  A breeze was blowing as he exited through the trapdoor. Closing it behind him, he looked up at the top of the wall some distance above him. Down the wall to the right was a guard tower some fifty yards away. Along the walkway just below the top of the wall strode two archers and a guardsman, the guardsman being almost directly above him and walking toward the left. The archers stood closer to the guard tower and were talking together as they looked out over the city.

  Bart moved to the wall and ran his hand along its surface. There were irregularities, small cracks and imperfections time had created, which could be utilized for handholds. He waited against the wall until the guard had moved further past his position, then began climbing.

  Such a height wasn’t much of a challenge for him as he slowly made his way up the thirty feet to the top. Every second handhold, he would pause and glance to the archers and the guardsman. When he made sure that he remained unnoticed, he continued.

  He was within ten feet of the top when the sound of footsteps atop the wall caused him to freeze. The guardsman was running toward the archers. “Look!” he hollered. Bart glanced up and saw the guardsman’s arm pointing back into the city. Looking over his shoulder, Bart saw a large group of individuals heading their way.

  “It’s Lord Kueryn,” said one of the archers.

  Bart didn’t know who this Lord Kueryn was, but the sight of so many men heading in his direction couldn’t be good. While the men on the wall were being distracted, he climbed the rest of the way to the top.

  “I think his magic user is with him,” the guardsman said.

  Bart paused as his hand reached the top. Glancing back, he saw a robed individual in the fore of the mob. And walking beside him was the same man as had been with him in the castle. This had to be Lord Kueryn. How did they find me? Damn magic users!

  “Wonder what’s going on?” an archer asked.

  “I don’t know,” the guardsmen stated. “But it looks like Killryn is taking his men to the tower in an awful hurry.” Below, a group of a dozen men were racing for the nearest guard tower.

  “You think that assassin they’re looking for is nearby?” an archer asked.

  “Maybe,” the guardsmen said. “If he is, we better be on the lookout.” Then he turned back and saw a shadow climbing onto the walkway. “There he is!” he shouted. Pulling his sword, the guardsman rushed forward.

  Bart was pulling himself up over the edge when the guard shouted. Scrambling the rest of the way, he was quickly up into a crouching position facing the onrushing guard. Behind the guard, the two archers were moving their bows toward him and drawing back to release. He took hold of the Cloak’s hood and pulled it forward. Dodging backward at the same time, he saw the surprise on the guard’s face as he disappeared.

  “Magic!” the guard exclaimed. Instead of pausing as Bart had hoped he would, the guard came forward, swinging his sword to and fro in sweeping arcs.

  The archers too altered their tactics. Moving to either side of the guard, they began firing arrows in horizontal paths across the walkway.

  Keeping in front of the guard, Bart backed up slowly as the guard continued to advance. The guards that had earlier been racing toward the guard tower began emerging onto the walkway behind the archers. He darted a quick glance over his shoulder and saw more guards approaching from behind him. This time, there were two guards standing side by side who were moving their swords to and fro in the hopes of connecting with an invisible body.

  Down on the street below, he saw the magic user looking up. His gaze seemed to pierce the exact space where Bart stood. When the magic user began gesturing in similar motions he’d seen Kevik use on numerous occasions, he knew his time was up.

  As soon as the archers let fly another volley, he moved to the crenels in the wall and looked down. Easily a hundred feet below was the river. A wide expanse of ground stretched ten feet from the base of the wall to the water.

  Whoosh!

  From below, a fireball leapt from the outstretched hands of the magic user. Moving incredibly fast, it passed within inches of his back. He could smell singed hair and cloth.

  “Aha!” the guard said as his eyes came to rest directly on Bart. Then he rushed forward with a battle cry.

  A split second was all he needed to realize he was no longer invisible. The hood of the Cloak was still in position covering his head and the front was closed as it should be. Dancing back from the attack of the guard, he didn’t have time to worry about how the guard could see him.

  “Give it up,” the guard said as he came forward.

  “I don’t think so,” Bart said. And with that, he leaped to the nearest crenel and then launched himself from the wall. Arcing outward as far as he could to avoid hitting the ground below, he dove for the river.

&
nbsp; Arrows flew by him, but so intent was he on the fast approaching water, that he failed to notice them. Then he struck the icy coldness of the water and his lungs froze from the shock of the frigid water. As soon as he hit the water, he altered his direction to more of a horizontal movement so as to avoid hitting the riverbed. Once his downward momentum came to a stop, he kicked for the surface. Gasping for air, he worked to get his lungs working as he swam for the far shore.

  From atop the wall, shouts were heard and arrows fell like rain. As they peppered the water around him, he felt one embed itself into his pack. Swimming furiously, he reached the shore and quickly left the water. Zigzagging from the river bank, he raced across the hundred feet of open ground to the cover of the outlying buildings.

  A group of curious citizens witnessed his flight from the river. Those directly in his path fled as Bart came toward them with the naked blade of his knife gleaming in the moonlight. The arrows ceased their pursuit just before he gained the nearest building. Pausing for a moment, he turned his gaze back toward the top of the wall.

  Packed with guards, the wall was ablaze from dozens of torches. Just before he turned to flee, he saw the unmistakable figure of Lord Kueryn appear. One of the archers pointed to where he stood in the shadows and the lord’s gaze turned upon him. Hidden as he was in the shadows, it was unlikely the man could actually see him, more likely searching his last known location.

  Turning his back to the wall, Bart fled.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Holed up in a farmhouse out in the middle of the countryside, Riyan gazed through the window to the darkness outside. “Can they track us here?” he asked.

  Chyfe shrugged. “Depends,” he said. Standing next to Riyan, he too stared out into the night. When Riyan turned toward him questioningly, he added, “If they have a tracker, definitely. Either way, once the sun returns our trail will be easier to follow.”

  Soth emerged from the bedroom where they held the family who had been living there. When they saw the darkened farmhouse, they thought it to be deserted. It was only after entering and disturbing the occupants did they learn otherwise. Now, five people sat in the bedroom with their hands and feet tied. The father sported a bloody slash he received from Seth when he tried to defend his home. His wife and three children were quiet, if distressed, despite numerous assurances they would be left unharmed.

  “Any sign of them?” he asked.

  Chyfe shook his head no. “Not yet,” he replied.

  At the table where he was helping himself to some of the farmer’s bread and other foodstuffs, Chad said, “Let’s hope it stays that way.” Kevik who was sitting next to him nodded in agreement.

  Before dusk, they had left the road and rode for a mile before taking a short break to rest their horses. Ten minutes later, riders appeared on the horizon. Recognizing the uniforms of the guards from Hylith, they fled. It wasn’t until nightfall before they were able to give them the slip and finally came to this farmhouse. Seth was out in the stable with the horses which were still saddled in the event a quick escape should be warranted.

  Where are you guys?

  Startled by the unexpected contact, Kevik asked, Bart?

  Who else would it be? Bart replied.

  Kevik could hear the sarcasm in his voice. We’re some miles southeast of Hylith, he replied. Not sure where. Did you make it out of the castle?

  Yes, said Bart. Need to keep this short. I think they have a way of tracking the use of magic. He then sent him a mental picture of the magic user holding the purplish ball that emitted micro bursts of lightning.

  Kevik immediately recognized the spell as one that did exactly what Bart thought. I understand, was his response. How are you going to find us?

  Good question, came the reply. Any ideas?

  Let me talk with the others, Kevik told him.

  Alright, agreed Bart then the connection was broken.

  When Kevik came back to himself, he saw the others were gathered around staring at him intently. “He’s alright,” he explained. “But not sure how to find us.”

  “Did he make it out of Hylith?” asked Riyan hopefully.

  Kevik nodded.

  “Where is he?” questioned Chad.

  Kevik shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied. “We didn’t get that far.” He then explained how they needed to keep the usage of the rings to a minimum, that the magic user may be searching for such things.

  “Great,” groaned Chad. “Now what are we to do?” He glanced around at the faces of the others and could see they were just as much at a loss as he was.

  “Wait a minute,” Chyfe said as he turned his eyes on the room where the family was being held. “Maybe they could help?”

  “Why would they?” asked Soth.

  “To prevent us from harming them,” stated Chyfe, matter-of-factly.

  “We’re not going to be harming anyone!” Riyan argued.

  “I didn’t say we would,” countered Chyfe. “Just make them believe that it could be a possibility if they didn’t help us.”

  Riyan shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’ll not be party to anything like that.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled out one of his few remaining gold coins. Handing it to Soth, he said, “See if this will work. All we need is some landmark, anything that could be used as a rendezvous point.”

  Soth took the coin. “I’ll see what I can do.” Getting up from the table, he was soon passing through the doorway into the bedroom.

  “I think the other way would have been better,” argued Chyfe.

  Riyan just glared at him.

  A few minutes later, Soth emerged from the bedroom. “Well?” asked Chyfe.

  “There’s not much around here but farmland and the river,” he explained as he took his seat at the table. “At the moment we’re a little north of a town called Tryn. Tryn as it happens is the last town before the river enters the Wrath of Hennon.” He then paused a moment before asking, “Sound familiar?”

  “Didn’t that couple back in Hylith mention it?” asked Riyan.

  Soth nodded. “That’s right,” he replied. “And according to the farmer, if you stand on the bridge spanning the river at Tryn, you can see the mouth of the canyon in the distance.”

  “Sounds like a good place to meet,” said Chad. “Have him meet us at the bridge. When he arrives, he can contact Kevik for more precise directions.”

  “I agree,” said Riyan.

  “But what about the guards chasing us?” asked Soth.

  “What about them?” Chyfe asked dismissively. “By morning they’ll be miles away from here.”

  Soth wasn’t so blase about dismissing them so easily.

  “Go ahead,” Riyan told Kevik. “Tell Bart.”

  Kevik nodded then a faraway look came to his face as he worked the ring’s magic. A minute later, his eyes refocused. “He’ll meet us there,” he told the others.

  “Good,” said Riyan.

  They settled in to get what rest they could. Riyan volunteered to keep the first watch. As everyone settled into sleep, he stood before the window. Staring out into the darkness, he couldn’t help but wonder what Bart was doing right now.

  Right now, Bart was on a horse taken from an inn on the outskirts of Hylith. Riding pell-mell through the moonlit countryside, he pushed the horse as fast as he dared in order to make the town Kevik had spoken of before dawn.

  He no longer had the protective magic of the Cloak to conceal his presence. A large area across the back had been burnt and severely damaged. It now bore a hole the size of his foot. As best as he could figure, it must have happened when the magic user’s fireball nearly hit him atop the wall. He remembered the smell of burnt cloth and hair just after it had sailed by. Now the Cloak was rolled up in the bottom of his pack. Though he didn’t think it likely, he kept it in the hopes that Kevik would have some idea on how to repair it.

  He rode throughout the night beneath a cold, wintry moon. A lone shadow moving across the landscape, h
e passed unseen. Any pursuit which may have developed back in Hylith had yet to materialize. With any luck, they believed him to be on his way back to Byrdlon and would concentrate their search accordingly.

  After riding hard throughout the night, he finally saw the outline of buildings appear ahead in the predawn light. Not long after that, a bridge spanning the river near the west end of town became visible. Figuring that to be the bridge Kevik mentioned, he made his way toward it. The town appeared peaceful as he approached. A few lone silhouettes passed between the buildings. Of guards and soldiers there was no sign.

  On the southern side of the river as he was, Bart was going to have to cross over the bridge in order to reach the town. Taking it slow, he continued toward the bridge. He kept scanning the buildings for any sign of Riyan and the others but to no avail. Could he have beaten them here?

  With his thumb, he absentmindedly rotated the ring around his finger as he sought to contact Kevik.

  Bart? came the reply.

  Yes. I’m at the bridge. Where are…

  South side of town, Kevik said urgently, cutting him off. Hurry! Then the connection was broken.

  Kevik? Bart asked, concern growing. When there was no reply he shouted in his mind, Kevik! Again, no reply. The concern he felt began to grow into fear for his friends. Kicking his horse into motion, he rode onto the bridge and quickly crossed to the other side.

  Bam!

  Just as Bart left the bridge, an explosion blasted apart the quiet of the early dawn. From the south side of town, a column of smoke began rising above the rooftops. “Damn!” cursed Bart as he kicked his horse into a full gallop. Dodging through the growing throng of people emerging from their homes to see what the commotion was about, he raced toward the rising plume of smoke. Then, a second and third explosion rang out.

  “Whose stupid idea was it to come in here?” Chyfe demanded.

  “We didn’t have any other choice at the time,” Riyan replied.