by M. L. Forman
Tantic seemed pleased with the praise and bowed to Bregnest and the rest of the company before leaving them to their meal.
As Alex and his friends were finishing their meal, the city magistrate appeared in the doorway. He was a tall, thin man dressed in dark green robes. He had a gold chain hanging around his neck and an annoyed look on his face. His face grew tight with anger when he learned that Bregnest had already sold the horses to Tantic, but he managed to control his feelings and the tone of his voice.
“No law against that,” said the magistrate stiffly. “And if you did indeed kill a number of bandits, we should be grateful to you.”
“You are very kind,” replied Bregnest in his most businesslike tone.
“Yes, well, it is no small thing,” the magistrate continued. “The city guards seem unable to do anything about the bandits, who have ruined our trade with the south. Perhaps the city should hire you and your company to hunt down the rest of these troublemakers.”
“A noble task,” commented Bregnest, as if considering the offer.
“So you would be willing to take the job?” the magistrate asked hopefully.
“Sadly, we have other business to attend to,” answered Bregnest. “However, we will happily remove any bandits we encounter along our way. Though I suspect they will avoid us in the future.”
“Perhaps, when your business is completed, you will consider my offer further,” replied the magistrate, returning to his stiff manner.
“Indeed, yes, we will,” replied Bregnest. “It would be a great honor to work for the city of Techen.”
The magistrate smiled thinly, nodded to Bregnest, and without another word, left Tantic’s inn.
“To work for the city would be an honor, but to work for him would be a curse,” commented Thrang in a low voice.
Alex agreed with Thrang’s assessment, remembering Tantic’s comment about how the city guards didn’t take care of their horses. His feelings about horses had changed a great deal since the start of his adventure, and the thought of mistreating a horse made him more than a little angry.
There were several hours before the evening meal would be served, so Alex, Andy, Skeld, and Halfdan left Tantic’s inn and wandered back to the main square, which was now full of people selling various items from small tables.
The people of Techen reacted in different ways to Alex and his companions, and Alex noticed that all of them seemed a little nervous. Some of the people were anxious for Alex and his friends to approach their tables, hoping to sell them something, while others pretended not to see them at all. This second group would watch them closely when they did approach one of their tables and would not speak unless spoken to.
Alex and the others each bought a few small items, more from boredom than from need. Alex purchased a small folding knife he thought would be useful, as well as a notepad so he could practice writing his elfin letters. He noticed Andy bought a few small pieces of jewelry, and he guessed they were souvenirs or gifts for his friends back home. It didn’t take long to browse the small market and they soon wandered out of the square, heading back to Tantic’s inn.
“A strange city,” commented Halfdan, as they walked past the squashed mud houses. “Not a tree or a bush to be seen.”
“And what would a dwarf know about cities?” asked Skeld, a wicked smile on his face. “I’ve heard you all live underground in vast, dark caves.”
“Dwarf caves are not dark,” retorted Halfdan, pushing Skeld into one of the mud walls lining the street. “Even dwarfs long for the wind in our faces and a bit of green now and then. If we enter the dwarf realm of Vargland, you will see you are wrong about our cities.”
“I shall make a point of visiting your country, whether we enter the dwarf realm or not,” said Skeld, laughing loudly.
They returned to Tantic’s inn and found the others waiting for them. It seemed there was nothing to do in Techen but wait.
chapter twelve
Eric Von Tealo
Later that afternoon, Tantic asked if they would like to see their rooms. Alex and his friends followed the innkeeper to the back of the inn, where they entered a large suite of rooms. The main sitting room had several chairs, a few small tables, and a large fireplace. Two short hallways led from either side of the room into two smaller bedrooms with two beds each and a small table with a lamp.
“I hope this will do,” said Tantic, as he showed them around the suite. “We seldom have one company take an entire apartment, but you seem to fit perfectly.”
“This will do nicely,” replied Bregnest with a slight bow.
“About your evening meal, then,” Tantic began. “Will you want a private room, or would you prefer to eat in the common room? The common room will not be crowded tonight as we have so few visitors these days.”
“A private room would be best,” said Bregnest. “We have several things to discuss, and I would not want to trouble your other guests.”
“A kind gesture,” replied Tantic. “You know we Techens are often shy of strangers, though I doubt they would be put off by your company. At least, not once they know about your victory over the bandits.”
“You are most kind,” answered Bregnest, bowing slightly once more. “Perhaps we will join your guests after our meal.”
“As you wish,” said Tantic, returning the bow.
The company ate their evening meal in a dining room well away from the common room of the inn. Tantic promised to bring them something special, and when the food arrived, everything looked and smelled wonderful. Alex was hungry, but he was too worried about when the old man might arrive and what he might have to say, and couldn’t enjoy the food.
“You worry too much for one so young,” said Skeld, jokingly. “You should learn to let things be and to take things as they come.”
“Ignore him,” commented Tayo, sitting down next to Alex. “He never worries about anything and so he never plans for anything.”
“I plan,” replied Skeld with a laugh. “I plan to have as much fun as I can before I cross the wall.”
“The wall?” Alex questioned.
“The wall between this life and the next,” said Tayo, his face twisting slightly as though he felt a pain. “We should not speak of it.”
“It’s there for all of us poor mortals,” Skeld said, no longer laughing. “Worrying about it won’t make it go away.”
“Neither will laughing at it,” answered Tayo, and he fell silent.
“I’m sorry I asked,” Alex said in a lowered voice to Tayo. He knew Tayo seldom laughed, but he’d never seen him quite this way before. “I did not mean to trouble you.”
“It does not matter,” replied Tayo, though his pained look remained. “Perhaps Skeld is right and I do think too much on this thing.”
Alex didn’t reply, leaving Tayo to his own thoughts.
As they ate, Bregnest told the rest of the company about the old man who had approached Alex in the stable. He asked Alex to tell the story and repeat everything the old man had said. After Alex had finished, they were all silent for several minutes.
“Why does he want to come when no one is around?” Thrang questioned.
“Perhaps he does not wish to be seen speaking to us,” suggested Arconn.
“And perhaps he’s not a simple old man,” Tayo added.
“We won’t know what he is or what he knows until he chooses to tell us. For now, we will wait,” Bregnest said.
“Should we go to the common room for a drink?” Halfdan asked in a hopeful tone. “It might make the old man more comfortable.”
“Perhaps,” said Bregnest. “However, I think we should wait for our visitor in our rooms. I will ask Tantic to send us something to drink, so don’t look so sad, Halfdan.”
“The spiced ale is very good,” said Halfdan, smiling sheepishly.
They finished their meal in silence. Alex poked at his food, having lost his appetite, worried that waiting in their rooms might be a mistake. What if the old man c
ouldn’t find them? Alex didn’t want to look foolish in front of his friends if the old man didn’t show up at all.
As they left the dining room, Bregnest went to find Tantic, and Alex and the others moved slowly toward their rooms at the back of the inn.
It wasn’t long before Bregnest returned, followed by servants carrying several pitchers and mugs. Halfdan grinned and claimed a mug of dark Techen beer. As the servants departed, Bregnest took a seat near the fireplace, his eyes fixed on the flames, a troubled look on his face.
Alex sat in a chair across from Bregnest, worried the old man wouldn’t come. He almost jumped out of his chair when there was a soft knock at the door a short time later. Alex looked at the door, then at Bregnest, unsure of what he should do. Bregnest smiled slightly at Alex and motioned for Arconn to open the door.
Arconn politely showed the old man into the room, offering him a chair near Bregnest. The old man moved slowly, looking at each of the company in turn as he walked through the room. He seemed unsure of himself, as if he had been summoned here instead of it being his own idea to come.
“All of you then,” said the old man, taking the seat Arconn had indicated. “I suppose you know your own ways.”
“But we do not know yours,” replied Bregnest, his eyes never leaving the old man. “Will you tell us why you wish to speak to us?”
“I’m sure you know,” the old man answered, laughing slightly. “First, tell me your names. And if you will, a drop of ale would be most welcome.”
“The ale first,” said Bregnest, motioning to Halfdan. “But perhaps you should give your name first, so we will know what to call you.”
“Thank you kindly,” said the old man, taking a mug from Halfdan and drinking deeply. “I see you have some wisdom. I am called Eric—Eric Von Tealo.”
“That is not a Techen name,” Bregnest replied in a thoughtful tone. “I am Silvan Bregnest, leader of this company. If you wish, I will name my companions, but it seems a small matter.”
“As you wish, Master Bregnest,” Eric replied, raising his mug in a toast.
“Will you tell us what business you have with us?” Bregnest questioned.
“Oh, yes,” Eric replied. “I have quite a tale to tell, and I think you will be happy to hear it—even if it does come from a poor old man like myself.”
“Old I can see,” said Bregnest with a smile. “Poor, I cannot judge. I think, however, that you wish to be less poor before your tale is told.”
“You have a keen eye,” Eric answered, a sly grin on his face. “Perhaps some arrangement can be reached?”
“I would not pay for goods before I see them,” said Bregnest in a stern tone. “However, I will make you this offer. If your tale rings true and has any value, I will pay you five gold coins. Sufficient payment, I think, for even the best of stories.”
“Five from each man who hears my story would be closer to the mark,” countered Eric. “Though perhaps my story is of no value and I should go about my own business.”
“Free drink is payment enough for stories,” snapped Halfdan, rising from his seat.
“Halfdan,” said Bregnest sharply. The dwarf sank back to his chair.
“The dwarf has no patience,” commented Eric, still
smiling slyly.
“And mine will grow short,” replied Bregnest. “Tell your tale, old man. If there is value in it, we will pay five gold coins each for the hearing. If not . . . well, the free drink will be your payment.”
“Very well,” replied Eric. “Perhaps a touch more ale then, to wet my throat in the telling.”
Halfdan refilled Eric’s cup, a look of anger and dislike on his face.
“To begin with, you are correct, my name is not Techen at all,” Eric began. “My family is from Varlo, though none of my family now living has ever seen that fabled city. It was my father’s, father’s, father who last saw the great city and it was in ruins then. It was my grandsire of many generations ago who last saw the city when it was fair.”
Eric paused, his eyes half-closed in deep thought or memory. For several minutes the only sound was the soft crackling of the fire in the grate, and then Eric continued.
“It was this ancient Von Tealo who served in the great city as one of its most trusted guards. It is from him that my information comes, though my great-grandfather found that his story was true.
“I will not tell the whole story of the days before the dragon came to Varlo, as the tale is too long and has little to do with my own. I will say that my ancestor was living in the heart of the great castle when the evil arrived.
“Though he did not see the beast himself, my ancient father soon learned of the worm’s arrival. He was deep inside the castle on the king’s business and his first thoughts were to find the king and fight the monster, but fortunately for myself that was not to be. For as news of the disaster came, so did the survivors of Varlo. They were white with fear, and even the bravest of them were shaken and confused. It was from them that my ancestor learned of the king’s death.”
Once more the old man fell silent. Alex saw a look of anger cross his face, but it vanished as Eric sipped his ale.
“With his master dead and so many terrified people looking to him for guidance and protection, he knew the course he had to take,” Eric went on. “He knew that escape from the castle into the city would be madness. The dragon would surely kill them all if they went through the main gates, so he took a different path.”
“And it is this path that you wish to tell us about?” Bregnest questioned.
“Forty pieces of gold seems a small price to pay for the path to the dragon’s hoard,” replied Eric.
“You test my patience,” said Bregnest coldly. “You ask for payment before the goods are seen.”
“Not at all,” replied Eric. “I simply wish a fair price for showing you the way to great wealth.”
“The way to wealth is a small matter when its protector is so great,” answered Bregnest. “You may show us a path that leads to our doom, and that is of no value at all.”
“Perhaps doom is all there is,” Eric said calmly. “However, I will not ask for payment unless you find success.”
“Very well then,” said Bregnest, his tone softening slightly. “If your path leads us to success, we will each give you fifty times the price we pay for your story.”
“A small amount from such a hoard,” complained Eric.
“You may know the path, but we will have to face the evil at its end,” replied Bregnest. “Fifty times five from each of us is all I will promise.”
“Perhaps, if you find success, you will feel more generous,” Eric offered.
“I have no doubt we will,” Bregnest agreed.
“This other path then,” Eric continued. “This other path that lead my ancestor to safety was hidden far beneath the castle, where few had ever gone. It was only by chance my ancestor knew of it at all, but that is another story for another time.
“In the deepest part of the castle there was a great hall and at the end of this hall was a spring. The spring was large, creating a fair-sized stream of water. A channel was cut for the water to flow in so the hall and the castle above would not be flooded. At the end of this channel, a tunnel emptied the water out of the mountain. The tunnel leads from the great hall to the meadows on the southern side of the city. There was at one time a stone path cut into one side of the tunnel so the ancient kings could go to the open fields beyond the city unseen.”
“If there was a spring beneath the castle, the dragon would have blocked it up years ago,” interrupted Bregnest. “And failing that, he would have blocked the tunnel.”
“The men of Varlo once tried to block the spring and failed,” said Eric. “And if the dragon blocked the tunnel, the castle would even now be flooded. However, when my great-grandfather last saw the city—a little more than a hundred years ago—the tunnel was not blocked.”
“Much can change in a hundred years,” said Bregnest in a t
houghtful voice. “Why did your ancestor return to Varlo?”
“He hoped to win the city back,” answered Eric with a sad look on his face. “He thought he could drive the dragon out and restore life to the land of his fathers.”
“A secret entrance once used is no longer a secret,” said Bregnest grimly.
“Perhaps not, but it is still better than the front gate,” Eric answered. “The opening to the tunnel is not as easy to access as it once was, that much I know. When my great-grandfather returned to Techen, he told us what he’d seen. The dragon had piled great rocks over the tunnel’s mouth—not to block the water, but to block anyone trying to enter. The water flows freely out from under the rocks, but if a man wanted to enter the tunnel, he would have to swim under the rocks, against the current of the water.”
“A near-impossible task,” said Bregnest, a stern look on his face. “What value is a path we cannot enter or use?”
“As you said, much can change in a hundred years,” Eric replied.
Bregnest considered Eric’s story for some time. Alex also thought about the story, concerned about his own ability to swim upstream against a swift current. Of course, they’d have to find the stream first, before trying to swim up it, so perhaps there was no need to worry just yet.
“Is the stream of water the only entrance to the tunnel?” questioned Bregnest.
“I cannot say for sure,” answered Eric. “Though this small map shows no other.”
Eric produced an old piece of paper from his pocket and held it up for Bregnest to see. The map showed the city of Varlo, the castle, and the fields around the city. The bottom of the map showed a stream that began south of the city, well away from the city walls.
“This map shows nothing of the tunnel,” said Bregnest after looking carefully at the paper. “If it showed the tunnel or the inside of the castle, it might be of value.”
“I have no such map to offer,” said Eric. “Though I daresay my story has been worth its promised price.”
“Perhaps,” said Bregnest. “But perhaps this story is of your own making. Have you any proof that what you’ve said is true?”
