Shepherd's Quest: The Broken Key #1

by Brian S. Pratt

  “I’ve been poisoned!” he exclaimed when they described what was happening to the skin around the wound.

  “What do we do?” Chad cried out anxiously.

  “Get me out of here,” he said. Then he pointed to the skeleton on the steps. “I think that was what killed him. He and I both triggered the same trap.” Then as he tried to get to his feet, his knees buckled under him. “I don’t know how much longer I have.”

  Perspiration had already begun to form on his forehead and when Riyan checked to see if he had a fever, he felt warm. “Take his other arm,” he said to Chad. “We’re going home.”

  “But it took us over a day to get here!” exclaimed Chad as he placed one of Bart’s arms around his neck.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” hollered Riyan back at him. He and Chad grabbed their packs as they made ready to return to the surface, Riyan also took his staff.

  A sudden clinking sound drew his attention to the floor where the golden item had all of a sudden fallen from Bart’s hand. Riyan looked to his friend and saw that he had passed out. Picking up the piece of the golden key, he stuffed it into his pack. With Chad holding one of the lanterns and Riyan his staff, they began heading out. As they hurried down the passage and reached the turn to the right, Riyan cast one last glance back to the room. The glow from the second lantern which they left burning just within the room almost seemed to be beckoning to him. Turning back to the matter at hand, he passed around the corner and the light disappeared from sight.

  It took them some doing to get Bart up to the surface. When they reached the uppermost level of The Crypt and were moving past the room where they had stashed the copper coins, Riyan said, “We’ll come back for them.”

  “Hope so,” replied Chad.

  At the hole leading to the surface, they worked to get Bart up the slope. They found it exceedingly difficult to haul a limp body up a steep incline, but they finally managed it.

  Once he was lying on the grass just outside the hole, Chad sat down.

  “There’s no time to rest!” admonished Riyan.

  “My arms are like rubber,” he said. In fact, both of them were fatigued by the effort of practically carrying Bart up through the four levels.

  Riyan felt the same way. His arms ached and his legs could use a rest, but Bart might die if they dilly dallied. He pulled up Bart’s tunic to inspect his back and gasped. The dark red, spidery tendrils had spread. Now they covered a good portion of his back. The area around the puncture wound had turned red and angry looking as well.

  He turned to Chad who had also seen the progression of the poison. “We don’t have much time,” he said with emotion choking him.

  Chad nodded. Then he suggested, “Let’s make a stretcher. It would make carrying him easier.”

  “Alright,” agreed Riyan. “I’ll find another long stick and we’ll use it and my staff for the poles. You get our blankets out and discard everything we don’t need back down the hole.”

  “You got it,” replied Chad.

  Riyan got up from the ground and rushed over to the stream where a copse of trees stood. There he hunted for a long branch that would work. He finally took out his sword and used it to cut one off of a tree. On the way back to where he left Chad and Bart, he trimmed the branches until all he was left with was a long pole.

  Chad had their three blankets laid out and ready, Riyan’s staff was already in position. Next to the blankets their packs sat ready for them. “I just left the food, coins and gems,” he said. “Everything else is down the hole.

  “Good.” Riyan came and laid the branch on the blankets. Then he and Chad began folding the blankets over the staff and branch to create a stretcher. Once they had it finished, they picked up Bart and placed him upon the stretcher. Each took their pack and slung it across their back, Bart’s they placed between his feet on the stretcher.

  Then Riyan moved to the end of the poles at Bart’s feet while Chad took the ones by his head. They lifted him up and with Riyan leading the way, began the trek back.

  All afternoon long they carried Bart as quickly as they could toward Quillim. Despite the threat spreading through Bart’s system, they were forced to stop twice to rest. If they hadn’t, they risked weakening themselves to the point where they might have dropped the stretcher.

  When it finally began to grow dark, they continued on. Once night settled in, they used the moon and stars above to light their way. And still they continued.

  “How’s he doing?” asked Riyan for the dozenth time.

  “Bad,” replied Chad. In the gloom of night, the only indication that he was even alive was the groans he gave out with every now and then. “I’m not sure but I think the fever’s worsened.”

  “It shouldn’t be too long before we reach my home,” he replied.

  “Then what are we to do?” asked Chad.

  “I’ll leave you there with him and I’ll head over to Glia’s,” he explained. Old Glia was an odd sort of woman. She lived alone out in the hills, most people thought she was a witch or something and had very little to do with her. The people of Quillim tolerated her presence for the simple fact that she’s the only one in the area who makes potions. Many people owed their lives to the potions she brewed. The one she’s most famous for was the one that will purge poison out of your system, which was useful seeing as how the mountain spiders made an appearance every once in awhile. They were very aggressive and poisonous.

  Riyan had always liked her, and whenever he moved his flock to graze in the area near her hut, would visit with her. She’s the oldest living person in the Quillim area, none knew just how old she was. She has been a fixture in these parts for as long as anyone could remember.

  They continued carrying Bart for another hour before Riyan began to recognize the hills they were passing through. “We’re almost there,” he announced to Chad.

  “Thank goodness,” gasped Chad. It’s all he’s been able to do to simply continue to hold the ends of the stretcher. He was sure that if he were to but let go, he’d never be able to pick it back up again. His arms have all but grown numb and his back ached horribly.

  Riyan altered their course slightly to maneuver through the hills in a more direct approach to his home. When at last they topped a hill and saw his home in the distance, they breathed a sigh of relief. The light coming through the window seemed to renew their strength as they headed down the hill.

  Once they came close he shouted, “Mother!” Practically running forward, he was about to call again when the front door opened.

  The smile on her face died quickly when she saw Bart lying on the stretcher. A worried look came over her as she opened the door to let them in. “What happened?” she asked.

  “Bart was…” began Chad.

  “…bit by something.” Riyan cut Chad off and finished the sentence. Then he flashed a meaningful look to his friend.

  Once they had him through the door, she shut it and said, “Let’s put him on your bed Riyan.”

  They carried him through the front room to his and when they were outside the door to his room, they set the stretcher down on the floor. Riyan grabbed Bart’s ankles and Chad gripped him under the arms as they lifted him off the stretcher. They carried him through the bedroom door and laid him on the bed.

  Riyan’s mother appeared a split second later with a bowl of cool water and a towel. She sat on the bed near Bart’s head and dipped the towel in the water, then began to dab his forehead. “How long has he been like this?” she asked.

  “Since about noon,” replied Chad.

  Riyan was out in the hallway collecting Bart’s pack. He took off his and as he entered the room, had Chad give him his. When Chad removed his pack and handed it to him, the coins within clinked together. Riyan flashed a look to his mother and was relieved to see that she made no indication that she had heard. He took the three packs to his closet and set them down inside, careful to not repeat the clinking sound.

  He opened his pack
and removed several of the small gems for Glia’s potion. Once he had them in his pocket, he closed his pack again and shut the closet door. “I’m going to Glia’s to get a potion for him,” he told her.

  “You better hurry,” she said. “I’m not sure how long he’s going to last.”

  Riyan paused a moment to look at his friend. His mother had pulled his tunic up and he could see the spidery tendrils had spread even further. They’ve already made their way completely around his side and were beginning to creep across his chest. Even his throat showed signs of the tendrils.

  Without another word, he raced from the room and was soon outside heading through the hills towards the hut she called home. Old Glia lived a mile or so from where his home sat and it took him some minutes to cross over the hills before her hut came into view.

  It was a small dwelling, barely more than one room. He was relieved to see light coming through her window and smoke rising from her chimney. Running towards her door, he hollered, “Glia!” When he reached her door, he knocked loudly while hollering, “Glia, I need your help.”

  The door opened and he saw her standing there. Dressed in a tattered dress, the same dress he’s seen her wear for as long as he’s known her. He has at times wondered how it could possible have survived year after year without becoming threadbare and ruined. “Why Riyan,” she said with a smile, “what brings you to my door at so late an hour?”

  “Bart’s been poisoned,” he blurted out. “I need one of your potions.”

  Her smile faded away as she opened the door wider and said, “Come inside.”

  He moved through the door and entered her hut. It always seemed bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside.

  When she shut the door, she turned to him. “What bit him?” she asked.

  Riyan hesitated a moment, not sure how to answer as he didn’t want anyone to know what they’ve been up to.

  “Been up to something have you?” she asked.

  “What?” he replied. “No, of course not.”

  She gave him a look as if she didn’t believe him. People have said that she had the knack of knowing truth from lies.

  “Okay,” he said, giving in. “But you can’t tell anyone!”

  “Who am I to tell?” she asked. “Other than you, no one else ever comes here except when they are in need. Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

  “We found an old burial complex out in the hills,” he told her. “We were rooting around in it when Bart set off some kind of trap and was struck with a dart.”

  “Poisoned I take it?” she asked. When he nodded, she moved over to where she concocted her potions. “What happened next?”

  He then went into the details of how the dark red spidery tendrils formed and began to spread, Bart’s subsequent passing out, and the fever. “My mother doesn’t think he has long to live,” he finally concluded.

  “She’s right,” Glia replied. “If those tendrils you described are what I think they are, his life will end should their tips meet on his chest or reach his eyes.”

  “Can you help?” he asked. Pulling forth the gems he said, “I can pay you.”

  She glanced at the gems in his hand and plucked two from his palm. “These will do nicely, thank you,” she said. Then she cleared an area on her table and began gathering the needed ingredients.

  Riyan watched as she worked. After producing a large bowl, she began filling it with various powders and liquids. Once she had all the necessary ingredients, she took what looked like a femur of some small animal and mixed the powders and liquids together with it. He moved closer to see what the concoction in the bowl looked like and quickly pulled back when the odor emanating from it hit his nose.

  “Ugh!” he exclaimed. “What’s in there?”

  She grinned at him and said, “A little of this and a touch of that.” As soon as the mixture met her approval, she removed the bone and passed her hand over the mixture as she said a word so quietly that Riyan couldn’t make it out. The mixture sparkled for a second then turned a slight greenish brown color.

  Then she pulled a long necked bottle from off one of her shelves and poured the mixture into it. After sealing the bottle with a cork, she handed it to Riyan. “Just a second,” she said as he turned to leave. She moved to the back of her hut for a moment then returned holding a small vial.

  “The potion you hold will purge the poison from his system if he is not yet dead,” she explained. Then she handed him the small vial. “This will heal most of the damage done to him by the poison. Be sure to return the bottles when you’re done.”

  Taking the vial, Riyan said, “I will and thank you.”

  “You’re welcome Riyan.” As he turned to leave, she added, “I hope you get back in time.”

  “So do I,” he replied.

  “Come visit when you can.” Her words followed him out into the night as he broke into a run back to his home. He prayed that Bart would still be alive when he returned. When his home came into sight he saw Chad standing outside looking in his general direction. The sight of his friend sent a chill down his spine that he might be too late.

  “Is he still alive?” he hollered as he ran to the house.

  Chad saw him coming and replied, “Yes. But not by much.” When Riyan reached him he added, “Your mother doesn’t think he’ll last long.”

  He showed his friend the potion and said, “Old Glia said this would save him.”

  Chad opened the door for him and he raced through to his room. There he saw his mother still on the bed beside Bart. Bart’s tunic was off and he could see the spidery tendrils all over his chest now. And the ones that had been on his throat have spread to his upper lip.

  Moving quickly to the side of the bed, he uncorked the bottle containing the potion to purge the poison. Putting it to his lips, he glanced to his mother and said, “I hope this works.”

  “So do we all,” she replied. Which kind of surprised him that she would say that. She had never cared much for Bart.

  Riyan began to pour the liquid into Bart’s mouth slowly. As the potion hit his tongue and began trickling to the back of his throat, he saw Bart’s throat contract as he swallowed. Encouraged by the reaction, he poured the liquid a little bit faster.

  “Not too much at once,” cautioned his mother. “You don’t want to make him choke.”

  Nodding at her wisdom, he backed off and continued to trickle the potion into him little by little. Once the bottle was drained, he set it on the nightstand next to the bed and produced the other vial. When his mother looked questioningly at it, he said, “She said that this would heal whatever damage the poison did to him.”

  “Better wait and let the other potion work first,” she advised.

  “Very well,” he said.

  All three of them watched Bart carefully, none daring to speak as if breaking the silence would work against him somehow. Riyan’s mother put her hand to Bart’s forehead and whispered, “I think his fever is going down. That’s a good sign.”

  As they watched, the spidery tendrils started to recede. Though they began to disappear, they left a pale pattern of tendril-like markings behind in their wake.

  “It’s working!” exclaimed Chad. He gave the others a grin at the speed with which the spidery tendrils were disappearing. When all traces save a pale patchwork were gone from his chest, face, and throat, Riyan opened the small vial. He glanced to his mother who nodded for him to go ahead.

  Placing the vial to Bart’s mouth, he slowly poured its contents between his lips just as he had the other. Once all of it was administered, he stoppered the vial back up and set it on the stand next to the first bottle.

  Bart suddenly gave out with a sigh and then settled into a quiet sleep. Riyan looked to his mother who said, “I think he’s just asleep now. We’ll know better how he’s faring in the morning.”

  Chad clapped Riyan on the back. “We did it,” he said. “For awhile there I didn’t think he was going to make it.”
>
  “Neither did I,” admitted Riyan.

  “You two look dead to the world,” his mother said. “Why don’t you get some sleep? Riyan, you take my bed. Chad, you can sleep out in the front room. I’ll sit up with him.”

  “Thank you mother,” Riyan said. He gave her a peck on the cheek and nodded for Chad to leave the room with him. They closed his bedroom door and headed out to the front room.

  “I don’t think we should tell her about what we found,” Riyan told Chad. They went to sit down at the table while they talked. “I would hate to think what would happen to that place if Rupert were to find out about it.”

  Chad nodded. “He would go through there and take everything but the bones of the dead.”

  “Exactly,” agreed Riyan. “And remember what Bart said about how Duke Yoric was supposed to get twenty percent. If no one knows, then perhaps we won’t lose that much.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll keep quiet.”

  “In the morning we’ll see how Bart is doing,” Riyan said, “then we’ll figure out what to do with the treasure.”

  “Alright,” Chad agreed. All of a sudden a mighty yawn escaped him.

  Riyan grinned at his friend. The trip from The Crypt had exhausted both of them. Getting up, he told Chad he would see him in the morning. Making his way into his mother’s room, he took off his shoes and dirty outer garments before collapsing on her bed. Before he even realized it, he was out.

  The following morning found Bart awake but weak as a kitten. Riyan had awakened at dawn and tiptoed through the front room so as not to awaken Chad. His snores came from where he slept on the couch.

  He opened the door to his room slowly and saw his mother asleep in a chair next to the bed. Pushing the door open, it let out with a creak and Bart’s eyes popped open. Riyan grinned at his friend and closed the door before going over to his side.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Tired,” he replied. “I can barely move, but I’m alive.”

  Riyan gestured to the two bottles he got the night before from Old Glia and said, “Your condition turned around once some of Glia’s brew got into you.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Don’t know how you two managed to carry me back here. Last thing I remembered was you checking my back. Then I woke up and saw your mother sitting there. I figured you two had somehow managed to get me back here.”

  Riyan moved closer to Bart’s ear and whispered, “My mother doesn’t know anything about where we went. It might be best to keep it that way.”

  Bart nodded and replied, “I agree.”

  Just then his mother began to stir. She opened her eyes and saw them talking. “How are you this morning Bart?” she asked.

  “Feeling alright,” he replied. “But I don’t have any strength.”

  “That’s to be expected,” she said. Getting up, she placed her hand on his forehead. “You feel normal.” Then she turned to her son and said, “I’ll fix some breakfast.”

  “Chad’s still out there sleeping,” Riyan told her.

  “I’ll be quiet,” she assured him as she headed to the door.

  Once she left and had closed the door, Riyan got up and sat in the chair she just vacated. “What are we to do now?” he asked.

  “About what?” Bart glanced to him but it seemed difficult for him to keep his eyes open. “Don’t worry, I’m not asleep. It’s just more comfortable for me.”

  ”It’s alright,” Riyan told him. “What I meant was, what are we to do about the coins and gems?”

  His eyes parted slightly and he turned his head towards his friend. “You and Chad are going to need to make a trip to Wardean,” he explained. “There you can find Thyrr and exchange the stuff we collected for regular coins.”

  “Is he the fence you mentioned?” asked Riyan.

  “That’s right. You can find his shop on Dulcet Street.” He again closed his eyes and for a moment Riyan thought he had fallen asleep. Then his eyes opened again and he grinned.

  “What’s so funny?” Riyan asked.

  “Nothing. Just glad to be alive.” He laid there silently for a minute before he asked, “Could you bring me my pack?”

  “Why?” inquired Riyan.

  “You’ll need to have something before Thyrr will talk to you,” he explained.

  Getting up off the bed, Riyan went over to his closet and retrieved Bart’s pack. He brought it over to the bed and set it down next to him.

  Bart sat up a little bit more and grabbed his pack. It was evident that he had trouble even with the little effort he was forced to expend in moving the pack closer. The poison had really drained his strength. After digging through the pack, he pulled out one of his darts. Handing it to Riyan he said, “Tell him a friend sent you then show him this.”

  Riyan took the dart and nodded. “Is he a friend of yours?”

  “We’ve done business with one another before,” he replied. Just what that business had been he didn’t go into.

  Riyan stood up and returned Bart’s pack to the closet. He transferred the coins and gems that were in Bart’s pack to his. Then he saw the golden piece of the circular key that they found back in The Crypt. He had begun thinking of it as a key, or rather part of a key. For he believed that if they could find all the other pieces and put it back together, they would be able to open the king’s treasure room. And his imagination had been working over time ever since on what may be in there. He put the key in Bart’s pack and then stuffed it way in the back of his closet.

  Just then the door to his room opened and Chad stuck his head in. “How are you doing?” he asked Bart.

  “Weak, but alive,” Bart replied.

  “Shut the door,” Riyan told him as he returned to the bed.

  After shutting the door, Chad came and sat on the bed with them. “Your mother woke me up,” he said.

  “About time you were awake anyway,” grinned Bart.

  Riyan then filled him in on what they were talking about, and the impending trip he and Chad will be taking to Wardean.

  “We should leave soon,” Chad said. “Maybe right after breakfast.”

  “We’ve only got the one horse,” explained Riyan.

  “I don’t think I should try to get one of my father’s right now,” said Chad. “We’ll just have to ride double.”

  Until his mother called them to breakfast, they talked about what they found at the bottom of The Crypt. Bart had Riyan fetch the piece of the broken key and showed them the map on the other side. “Does this look familiar to either of you?” he asked.

  They both shook their heads. “Could be anywhere,” offered Chad. “Would need the rest to fully figure out what area it represents.”

  “Oh well,” sighed Bart. Then he had Riyan put it back. “I want to find the other parts.”

  On his way back from returning the piece of the key to Bart’s pack, Riyan nodded and said, “So do I.”

  “How are we going to find them?” asked Chad.

  “I don’t know,” said Bart. “I’ll think about it while you guys go to Wardean.”

  Then from the other side of the door they heard his mother announce that breakfast was ready. Riyan looked questioningly to Bart to see if he thought he could make it. “Lend me a hand,” Bart said as he worked his way to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. With Bart and Riyan on either side, they managed to help him out to the table so he could eat with the rest of them.

  Chapter Eleven

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