Quest's End: The Broken Key #3 Page 4

  “Have a good time last night?” Riyan asked with a smirk.

  Chad turned toward him and grinned. “All we did was sit and talk,” he explained.

  “Talk?” asked Seth with a chuckle.

  “Yes,” affirmed Chad. “Talk.”

  Bart emerged from the house after making sure it was secure. He nodded to Kevik who proceeded to activate the wards guarding the estate.

  Kevik had wanted to put additional wards in place, especially after the relative ease with which Durik had been able to gain entry, but hadn’t been able to yet. What was in place should be able to deter the common thief should one come calling while they’re gone. By the time he had completed setting the wards, the others had already mounted.

  Last night under the cover of darkness, they had gone to the forested area at the rear of the estate and recovered the three key segments from beneath the fallen log. They now were wrapped tightly in cloth to prevent them from banging against one another in the pack Riyan had across his back.

  Riyan wondered what would happen when they recovered the fourth segment and formed the circle with the other three. Would they fuse into one large circular key? Or would they remain four individual segments? He fervently hoped that he would soon be in a position to find out.

  Yesterday while they were in town buying supplies, they made discreet inquires as to where Kendruck was. They learned that it was situated just north of the border on the eastern slopes of the Tinderlock Mountains. After leaving Gilbeth, they would need to follow the road south through Kemmet, and then on past Skerin until they came to the road running along the northern hills of the Tinderlock Mountains. From there, they would turn east to follow the road as it moved through the foothills until it curved southward. After that it was a straight shot to Kendruck.

  They also learned that Kendruck was a very large city. In fact it was the main trading center where merchants from both Byrdlon and The Moran Tribes came to trade their goods. Almost every trading house from both countries had agents of one kind or another within the city.

  Bart and Riyan sat in the lead of their group, Kevik and Chad would ride next, then the twins. Chyfe brought up the rear leading the pack mules. As soon as Kevik was mounted they started heading down the lane to the road.

  With conditions of the road being what they were, they were only able to make Kemmet before nightfall arrived. There, they stayed at the inn Bart had originally stayed that first time he sought Durik. At the time, he hadn’t any idea of the ruthlessness the man possessed.

  Twice since their return from Catha, Bart had returned to Kemmet to poke around Durik’s estate. The first time he found it just as he had the previous visit. Empty of people, yet Durik’s belongings still filled the various rooms. He had stayed a full day searching the manor house from top to bottom for further information Durik may have gathered about the King’s Horde. Despite his meticulous efforts, he finally had to admit there was nothing to find. Either that or Durik was smarter than he was about such things. Bart felt that likelihood improbable.

  His second visit had found the house stripped of Durik’s possessions. Every room was bare and empty. Of the map on the wall depicting where caches of the King’s coins had been found, and the implements of torture in the basement, there was no sign.

  The inn was all but empty and they had their choice of rooms. After meeting in the common room for an evening meal, everyone but Bart and Riyan retired to their rooms shortly afterward. Seeing as how Kemmet had been Durik’s base of operations, there was always the possibility of running into one of Durik’s men who may recognize them. Riyan had advised keeping out of sight as much as possible while they were there.

  When the others went to their rooms, Riyan accompanied Bart out to Durik’s estate to take a look around. Though the place had been stripped of Durik’s things, Bart wanted to know if anyone else had taken up residence there. And if so, who?

  As they rode through the dark, snow shrouded streets of Kemmet, Riyan asked, “You think that whoever has possession of Durik’s place may be connected somehow?”

  Bart shrugged. “Maybe,” he said.

  “It could still be empty you know,” stated Riyan.

  “If it is, then we’ll turn around and come back,” Bart replied.

  They soon left the outskirts of Kemmet behind as they continued toward Durik’s estate. A half moon shone overhead giving the world a shadowy presence. Not long before they reached the lane that led to Durik’s estate, Riyan saw a light shining in the direction the estate laid. “Looks like someone’s there,” he stated.

  Bart nodded as he stared at the light. “It’s coming from the manor house,” he said. “Keep alert.”

  They turned off the road and onto the lane that led toward the manor. When they drew close enough, they saw that the light was coming from not one window but four, two on the ground floor and two on the second. Bart indicated a nearby tree where they could leave their horses. Coming to it, he and Riyan dismounted and secured the reins of their mounts to one of the branches.

  “Now,” Bart said. “Let’s go see who has taken up residence here.” Riyan nodded and they quietly made their way closer.

  Out of the darkness to one side of the manor house, they began to make out wagons. Four wagons in all, they stood in a neat row. Bart moved toward the wagons all the while keeping an eye on the front door. Shadows could be seen moving to and fro as they were silhouetted by the light coming from within. It looked like there could be at least three separate individuals beyond one of the ground floor windows.

  Once at the wagons, they found that each was covered by a tarp to keep the snow and rain off whatever lay within. Bart lifted up the end of one tarp and was surprised to find dozens of stone blocks one would use in constructing a wall. The second wagon was filled with stone as well, while the third and fourth held beams of timber.

  “Doing some construction are we?” Bart asked himself quietly.

  “A magic user lives here,” Riyan stated.

  “What makes you think that?” Bart asked. Glancing to Riyan he saw him pointing to an area away from the house. In the moonlight he saw a partially constructed circular wall that was easily a hundred feet in diameter. “A magic user’s tower?” he asked.

  Riyan nodded. “It does look similar to Kevik’s and others we’ve seen,” he stated.

  Bart grew thoughtful as he turned his attention back to the house. A magic user? Moving forward, he was suddenly stopped by Riyan placing a hand on his arm.

  “Remember the wards Kevik’s master had in place back at the estate?” he asked. “May have something similar here.”

  That thought made Bart stop in his tracks. Most things he felt confident to handle, but the workings of a magic user gave him cause for concern. Turning back to Riyan he whispered, “I’m going to take a peek through a window.” Despite the dangers, he had to know who it was that was in there.

  “Are you sure?” questioned Riyan worriedly.

  Bart nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” replied Bart. When Riyan moved to join him, he stopped him and said “Stay here.” And with that, he moved toward the side of the estate.

  Riyan watched his friend with growing anxiety. One of these days, he thought to himself, Bart’s going to press his luck a little too far.

  Stepping carefully, he reached the side of the house then continued down toward the nearest window. It wasn’t one of those emitting light. When he came to it, he glanced inside. Not seeing anything, he continued down. The next window was the one through which they had seen the silhouettes of those living here. Moving cautiously, Bart edged his way closer.

  A child’s laughter came from within before he reached the window which startled him. A child, especially a laughing one, was the last thing he expected to encounter here. Moving to the window’s edge, he very slowly peered around the edge to the inside.

  A child who couldn’t be more than three or four was being chased by a man of middle years wearing a magic
user’s robe. Giggling and laughing, the child eluded the man as he ducked around the couch sitting in the middle of the room. The man who was chasing him had the look of amusement on his face.

  When Riyan had first pointed out the tower’s construction, he had thought it might have been the same magic user who had accompanied Durik on his raid of Kevik’s place. But this man was a bit shorter and thinner than the other had been.

  Sitting on the couch about which the man was chasing the child, was another man dressed in regular, everyday attire. Next to him was a woman who was the spitting image of the child. Must be the mother, Bart figured.

  The scene playing out inside the house looked for all the world like a father, or maybe an uncle, playing with his child. As the child rounded the corner, he dove for his mother’s lap where she wrapped her arms about him and laughed in merriment.

  Bart ducked back away from the window. All the stories he’d ever heard of magic users were in stark contrast to what he had just witnessed. They’re supposed to be a bit standoffish, not the family man who chases a child just for the fun of it.

  He peered once again through the corner of the window and was surprised to find the child lying on his back on the floor. What was even more startling was the sight of the magic user bent over the boy. He had his mouth pressed to the boy’s stomach and looked for all the world like he was making raspberry noises. Whatever he was doing, the child found it incredibly funny and laughed while waving his arms and legs frantically.

  Bart again moved his head away from the window confused. This wasn’t what he was expecting to find. Glancing back to Riyan, he saw him there in the moonlight watching. He cast still one more look through the window and saw more of the same. Finally, he turned away and hurried back to Riyan.

  “You’re not going to believe this, but…” He then quietly explained what he had seen in the house as they returned to their horses. They made sure to retrace their steps in case there were magical wards in place elsewhere. He finished his narrative just as they reached the horses.

  Riyan mounted then gazed to the house. “Sounds like a family having fun on a winter’s night,” he said.

  “I know,” agreed Bart. “Weird.”

  “Why weird?” questioned Riyan. “I’m sure some magic users are just regular folks.” Then he chuckled.

  “What?” asked Bart.

  “I was imagining Kevik doing that in his robes,” he said with a grin. Then they both laughed as they turned their horses back toward the main road. In a short time they were back at the inn.

  The next morning after they had gathered in the common room for their morning meal, Bart went to see if the King’s coins were still nailed to the wall behind the counter where guests arranged for rooms. Sure enough, they were still there. So, when their serving girl returned from the kitchen with their food, he asked her about them.

  “Oh those? They’re the King’s coins,” she explained. “There used to be one of those Hunters of the Horde that lived around here, Durik was his name. But he died a while back during a trip to the east.”

  “Do you know how he died?” asked Chyfe. He and the others knew exactly how he had died and who had killed him. What he wanted to know was what everyone else knew.

  “Not really,” she explained. “A thief killed him I think. That’s what I heard.”

  “Too bad,” Bart said. “I would have liked to have been able to talk to him.”

  She shook her head slightly. “He wasn’t what one would have called sociable,” she said. “He mainly stayed at his estate except those nights when he would come to the tavern across the way.”

  “This Hunter had an estate here?” Riyan asked, prompting her to continue.

  “He did,” she replied. “It was auctioned off several weeks ago to a magic user and his family.” Her face lost some of its jovialness. “Don’t know if I like the idea of one of them living nearby.” Then her face registered shock and a little bit of fear as her eyes went quickly to Kevik in his magic user robes and the staff propped against the wall nearby.

  “Oh!” she said. “I…I didn’t mean that magic users were a bad sort, or anything like that.”

  Kevik gave her a reassuring smile. “I took no offense,” he assured her. Sighing, he added, “Some of my brethren fully deserve to be thought about in such a way. But most of us are like everyone else.” Glancing to Riyan and Bart, he said, “I’m sure most professions have their share of the bad sort.”

  Riyan nodded in agreement. “You’ve got that right,” he said.

  She relaxed a little after receiving Kevik’s assurance that he had taken no offense. But she still beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen when she was through.

  After she disappeared through the kitchen door, Bart said, “I don’t think the magic user and his family are associated with Durik.”

  “No,” agreed Riyan, “I don’t think so either.”

  They finished their meal, and it wasn’t until they were beginning to leave that the door to the kitchen cracked open and the girl peered out at them.

  “Thank you for the wonderful meal,” Kevik told her. He took out a silver and left it for her on the table. He could see that she saw the coin he placed on the table, but made no move to leave the safety of the kitchen to retrieve it.

  Outside at the stable while they were getting their horses ready for travel, Chyfe commented to Kevik, “You do have a fearsome presence.”

  “Do I?” asked Kevik. Turning toward Chyfe, he could see the laughter behind his eyes barely kept in check. Then from where Chad was cinching tight the straps securing the saddle to his horse, he heard him break into laughter. Chyfe burst out with laughter as he could no longer contain it.

  “No,” Riyan said as he turned to Kevik, “you don’t look fearsome. But your spells are nothing to laugh at.” Glaring at the others, he soon had the laughter stilled.

  “Thanks,” Kevik said. He really didn’t mind their laughter, it felt good to be a part of this group. The ability to laugh at one another at times without hard feelings, helped to bind them closer together. He had never had such companions before in his life, and he was proud to be counted as one of them.

  ”Come on,” Bart said as he swung into the saddle. “We’ve still got a ways to go.” He rode his horse out of the stable and was soon joined by the others. Leading the way, Bart had them heading out of town and on the road to the crossroads at Skerin.

  The weather remained good with sunshine throughout the day. Ice began to turn to slush under the warmth of the sun’s rays, it almost felt as if the world was warming up. But that was just an illusion as once the sun went down, the world would freeze all over again.

  From Skerin, they set out the following morning under partly cloudy skies. To the west, storm clouds could be seen far away on the horizon.

  On their left flowed the river as it made its way from the forest of Ki’ Gyrx. It flowed alongside the road throughout the day. They weren’t able to reach Skerin by nightfall, instead they stayed at one of the roadside inns some miles north of the city. By the time the sun went down, the storm clouds to the west had drawn closer, but could still pass them by. They fervently hoped so.

  Riyan was up with the sun the following morning and the first thing he did was go to the window and check on the storm’s progress. The edge of the cloud cover remained about where it had been the previous evening. It looked as if the storm wasn’t going to come their way.

  By noon they were at Kibb. A moderate city, it sat on the crossroads where the road from the north ended at another that came from the southeast and continued on to the west. The river that had been running alongside the road since Skerin came to an end as well, flowing into a large lake. The city of Kibb sat on the lake’s western shore. From there they turned to follow the new road as it moved southeast. A day and a half later they came to the city of Hunter’s Reach.

  With the sun still hours away from dropping below the western horizon, they rode through the gate of Hunter’s R
each. It was the last major town before Kendruck, which was still at least three days away. From there, their road led south to the northern slope of Tinderlock Mountains. Then they head east and follow the road as it begins turning south to run along the eastern slopes of the mountain the rest of the way to Kendruck.

  The storm clouds to the west which they had kept an eye on for the last two days had steadily drawn closer until they now blotted out most of the sky. It was decided to find an inn and see how things looked in the morning before heading further south. From what they gathered from talking with a trader, there wasn’t much to be found from Hunter’s Reach to Kendruck.

  The first inn they located was the Tradewynd. After acquiring rooms, Riyan had the idea of searching for a wine merchant to see if they could learn more of the bottle and the crest it bore. They asked the proprietress of the Tradewynd and were told Hunter’s Reach didn’t have one.

  “A wine merchant?” she asked with a grin. “Here?” After chuckling for a moment, she said, “Only place around here where you might find wine is over at Tinton’s. He runs a place that has more merchandise than two chandlers’ if you ask me.”

  “Where might we find it?” Bart asked.

  “You boys come through the west gate?” she asked.

  Riyan shook his head. “No,” he replied. “The north.”

  “Well, head over to the west gate and you’ll find it not too far from there,” she said. “You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you ma’am,” Riyan said to her.

  They left the inn and made their way across town toward the western gate. The streets were fairly clear of snow. Most of it had either been removed by the citizens of Hunter’s Reach or else melted. Either way, the dirt streets were a veritable mess of mud and ruts. The carriages and wagons moving about town were bouncing along so badly, Bart was surprised they hadn’t broken an axle yet. He was amused by the circumstances of one fine looking lady who was riding in a carriage. Every time the carriage hit a rut, which was about every other second, she would bounce in her seat. It looked as if she was holding on for dear life to the window frame of the carriage door.