Quest's End: The Broken Key #3 (10 page)

“It won’t do much for the wind,” commented Bart. “But it should keep the snow off should it fall tonight.” Moving from the road, he led the others toward the shelter of the trees. There they found the interior of the copse to be free of snow, testament to the effectiveness of the canopy above.

“Better lay in a good supply of wood,” Soth said. “If the snow starts to fall, no telling how long we’ll be stuck here.”

“Good idea,” replied Bart.

They moved as close to the center of the copse as they could before dismounting. Seth and Soth each took a hatchet from off the pack mules. While the twins began hacking and chopping to clear an area in which they could camp, the others combed the copse and surrounding area for firewood.

“This is all soaked,” complained Chyfe. Picking up a fallen branch from off the ground, he could see the impression wherein it had lain partially filled with water. “If we can get a fire going, we might be able to dry some of this out.”

“The canopy might keep the snow away, but it does nothing to prevent water from dripping down the trunks,” Riyan stated. As if to accentuate his point, a large drop of water fell from an overhanging branch and landed at the base of his neck.

Before the day had completely given in to night, they had accumulated a decent pile of firewood. Seth and Soth had managed to clear a ten foot area that was just large enough to accommodate a fire pit and still leave enough room for each of them to lay down their bedroll.

Once stones were set for the fire pit, Chyfe stacked some of the smaller, drier pieces together and worked to start a fire. Shtick. Shtick. Over and over he struck his flint to produce sparks, but each time, the sparks would land on the wet wood and fizzle out.

“This is useless,” he said. He was about ready to rip off a section of his shirt for tinder when Kevik came to stand beside the fire pit.

“Move back,” he said to Chyfe. Lowering the tip of his staff, Kevik pointed it toward the bits of twigs and moss stack in the fire pit.

Realizing what he was about to do, Chyfe scrambled back. A moment later, there was a sizzling in the air as sparks flew from the end of Kevik’s staff. These sparks, larger and hotter than what a flint could produce, began to cause the material to smolder. Chyfe immediately moved forward once Kevik raised his staff and began to softly blow on the smoldering mass to encourage a flame to appear. But despite his efforts, the sparks failed to catch the wet wood.

Bart was watching from across the pit from Kevik. When he saw the fire wasn’t going to catch, he said to Kevik, “Do it again.” It took another two tries before a flame finally sprung to life.

Chyfe carefully encouraged the flame to grow and they soon had a fire going that wasn’t likely to go out.

“Good thinking,” Riyan said as he slapped Kevik on the back.

Grinning, Kevik said, “This was exactly what I had in mind when I added that spell into the construction of my staff. I remembered our times beneath the Ruins of Algoth and didn’t want to run the risk of being without a means of making a fire.”

“That was smart,” Chyfe said. Laying a couple of the larger pieces of wood on the fire, he stood up and turned toward Kevik. “I’m sure I could have had the fire going.”

Kevik shrugged. “This was quicker,” he said.

Now that their camp was set and a fire was burning, they removed all the tack from their horses and pack mules except the bridles, which they secured to nearby branches in order to keep them from wandering off during the night.

Soth had the bright idea of using the bushes which he and his brother had cleared as a windbreak to keep their camp as warm as possible. He and his brother proceeded to stack the cutoff bushes along the side of the camp through which the wind was blowing. Although it didn’t keep the wind totally from coming through, it did manage to reduce its severity.

After a meal of rations, they settled in to sleep except for the one on watch. It was during Chad’s watch that the wind began to die down. He was elated at the thought that the storm had moved off.

But when dawn returned to the world, they found another six inches of snow on the ground with more steadily coming down.

For two days they remained within the copse of trees as the snow fell. At times there would come a lull in the snowfall, but with the threat of more in the clouds above, they remained within the shelter of the copse.

The dawning of the third day came with a cessation to the falling snow and a break in the cloud cover. “Looks like we might be able to continue,” Riyan said. Standing as he was at the edge of the trees, he looked out upon the snow covered landscape. Trees had their branches weighed down with accumulated snow, and where the road lay was anyone’s guess.

“Be hard to keep to the road,” commented Bart from where he stood next to Riyan. “If we leave we should do it soon,” he said. They had used up a good portion of their supplies over the last two days. Feed for their horses was almost gone, and with the snow covering everything, there wouldn’t be much in the way of foraging possibilities.

Riyan nodded. With a last look at the single patch of blue sky allowing the sun through, it looked as if the storm may be dispersing. “Let’s go,” agreed Riyan. In short order, they were mounted and leaving the copse of trees.

Outside the snow continued to fall. Kaitlyn sat at her table eating the last of a stew she had made the day before. Thoughts of Riyan plagued her, as they had every day since she and Elle went to talk with Daniel. What was he doing? Is he alright? And most important, would he have to face the Duke for thievery?

To her innermost being she knew Bart was somehow to blame for her son’s troubles. How she rued the day Riyan had ever become friends with such a boy! Oh, Bart seemed nice enough, but every time he, Riyan, and Chad got together, something would happen.

She thought back to the man who had come and tried to kill Bart while he was recovering from the poison. That experience still wakes her in a cold sweat at night, thinking the man and his friends have returned.

Glancing out the window, she looked through the falling snow to the place where she and Bart had buried the man. She now regretted going along with Bart when he said not to mention the incident to anyone. At the time it had seemed like wisdom. Now though, she felt sorrow for the unknown man lying in the ground out there. Did he have family? Was there someone who wondered what had happened to him? Was there a child who wondered if her father was ever coming home?

Maybe it was being alone too much that caused her mind to plague her with such thoughts. Raestin, the merchant who had begun to visit her from time to time, hadn’t been around for a couple months. She liked him and felt that he reciprocated the feeling. Over on a shelf near the door was a carved, wooden figurine of a sheep. He had given it to her on his return from delivering her first letter to Riyan.

She suddenly realized that her spoon had been poised motionless over her bowl for some time. Sighing, she laid it back in the bowl and got to her feet. As she began carrying her bowl over to the wash area, the sheep statue caught her eye. Without thought, she laid her bowl on the counter and went over to retrieve it.

The wood was beginning to darken from being handled so much. It seemed whenever she grew sad or lonely she would take it in her hand and caress its wood with her fingers. Somehow, it made her feel better.

She walked over to the window by the front door and stared out at the pen holding Black Face. A grin came to her as she recalled how much he had plagued her son. For that reason alone she had kept him when she sold her flock. He was really all she had left of her son other than some clothes that were still in his room, and his shepherd’s staff.

Black Face’s tail was sticking out from the shed that she had built for him. Now that he was alone out there and didn’t have other sheep to huddle with for warmth, she had built it to help keep him out of the snow.

Her thoughts once again turned to Riyan. How she missed him, the daily talks they once had, even their arguments. As her mind wandered along the paths of days long gone she continued gazing through the window.

A dark shape moving along the lane toward her home snapped her from her reverie. A smile came to her when she realized it was Freya. Glad for the company, she returned the figurine to its place on the shelf and removed her cloak from where it hung beneath the shelf.

Kaitlyn then opened the door and stepped outside into the falling snow. “Freya!” she called in greeting as she made her way into the snow.

Freya glanced up and saw her approaching. “Mrs. Borenson,” she replied with a smile.

Coming to her side, Kaitlyn said, “Now I’ve told you to call me Kaitlyn. None of this Mrs. Borenson nonsense.”

“Very well, Kaitlyn,” she said.

Kaitlyn placed an arm across her shoulders and proceeded to walk with her back to the house. “What brings you out in this weather?” she asked.

“I couldn’t stay in town any longer,” she admitted.

There was something in her voice that caught Kaitlyn’s attention. “Nothing bad I hope?” she inquired.

Now at the door, Freya shook her head. She waited for Kaitlyn to precede her into the house. “Nothing like that,” she replied. “Just the same old nonsense about the engagement.”

“Your father putting pressure on you again?” she asked. Closing the door after Freya had entered, she returned her cloak to its peg and took Freya’s outer garments and hung them up as well.

“Yes,” she said.

Kaitlyn gestured to the table and said, “Have a seat. I’ll make some tea.”

“That would be welcomed,” Freya replied.

As Freya sat down, Kaitlyn filled a pot with water and set it over the fire. “Sorry I haven’t been able to visit more often,” Freya said.

Kaitlyn turned toward her with a pouch of tea leaves in her hand. “To be honest, I’m surprised you’ve been able to come as often as you have,” she replied. Taking two cups and the tea kettle off the shelf above the counter, she brought them over to the table. Then she deposited some of the tea leaves into the kettle before sitting down across from Freya while they waited for the water to come to a boil.

“Have you heard of that stranger in town?” Freya asked after a moment’s silence.

Stiffening, Kaitlyn nodded. “Yes.” Neither she nor Elle had told anyone about their meeting with the man except Elle’s husband. They had agreed to keep it to themselves so as not to exacerbate the situation by starting rumors.

“He and another man who is here with him have been asking around about Riyan, Chad, and Bart,” she explained.

“Oh?” questioned Kaitlyn. She sat there quietly as Freya talked.

“Seems they’re awfully curious about them,” she stated. “Who they are, what they do, that sort of thing.” She paused a moment to see the effect her words were having on Kaitlyn. When no reaction was forthcoming, she asked, “Have they been out here to speak with you? Being Riyan’s mother and all I would think you would have been the first person they would have talked with.”

Kaitlyn sat there a moment not sure what she should say. Finally, she nodded her head. “Yes, one of them came to see me shortly after their arrival,” she said. The questioning look in Freya’s eyes prompted her to say, “He was looking for the boys and hoped I would know where they were.”

“Why?” Freya asked.

“There’s a matter of some importance with which he needs to discuss with them,” she explained. When Freya started to ask another question, she held up her hand to forestall her.

“They say Riyan, Bart, and Chad found something in the mountains before they left,” Freya said. “The rumor going around is that they found a stash of the King’s coins.”

Kaitlyn nodded. “I heard that too,” she replied. “But if they did, Riyan never said a word about it to me.”

“But we all wondered how they managed to enter the Warriors Guild,” continued Freya. “If they had found some of the King’s coins, that would explain it.”

Just then the water over the fire began to bubble and steam. Kaitlyn got up and brought it over to the table where she filled the tea kettle with hot water. She then returned the pot to the fire and situated it so it wouldn’t be directly over the flames, just close enough to keep it hot without boiling should they desire more. She let the flavor of the tea leaves permeate the water for a few moments before filling their cups.

As Freya took the cup offered her, she took a sip and said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” replied Kaitlyn.

“Not just for the tea,” she said. “But because you’ve always been there for me.” When Kaitlyn looked up at her with caring in her eyes, Freya said, “You don’t know how much it means to have a place to go where no one is pushing for the engagement, or talking about it.” Setting her cup down, she looked to Kaitlyn with tears forming in her eyes.

Coming out of her seat, Kaitlyn quickly moved around the table and took her in her arms. For the next hour, she held her as all the emotions Freya had kept locked inside were suddenly released.

Some miles west of Quillim, two men leading a pack mule were walking through the forested hills near the base of the mountains. Despite the snow coming down, they have been combing these hills for several days.

“Maybe it’s further toward the mountains?” suggested one man.

The other shook his head. “No Kelby,” he said. “The shepherd was with his flock when he found the coins. That means he wouldn’t have gone too far past the pastures.”

“But these pastures have been used for centuries,” argued Kelby. “Surely someone would have found the entrance by now.”

“Didn’t you hear what that one lady told us?” the man asked.

“What?” replied Kelby.

“She said that around the time the boys disappeared, there had been a bad earthquake,” he explained. “Bad enough to crack the mill’s grinding wheel.”

“So?” Kelby asked.

“So, maybe it also opened up the ground where the Horde lies,” the man concluded.

“Oh,” said Kelby.

“Keep your eyes open for anything that looks recently disturbed,” the man said.