Quest's End: The Broken Key #3 (14 page)

Yerou was a large city with a massive defensive wall surrounding it. The keep was positioned in the upper section of town. Kevik was interested in the tower that rose beside it. He peered closer to the words written at the bottom of the tower. “Kylon’s Tower,” he murmured. The name seemed familiar but he couldn’t remember from where.

“Can I help you?” a voice asked from behind them.

Turning around, Riyan saw a youthful looking young man who couldn’t be more than twenty years old. “Are you the cartographer?” he asked.

The young man shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I am one of his journeymen.” He glanced at the three of them in turn before asking, “Are you in need of a map?”

“Wouldn’t be here for any other reason,” quipped Chad.

The journeyman nodded understandingly.

“We were looking to purchase one showing the lands to the south,” explained Riyan.

“Are you interested in just the area along the border?” the journeyman asked. “Or deeper into the Moran Tribes?”

“So you do have maps of that area?” asked Chad.

“Of course,” the young man said. Then he turned his attention back to Riyan.

“Can I see a couple of what you have?” Riyan asked. “I’m not exactly sure what our needs are going to be.”

Nodding, the journeyman went over to one of the shelves and removed three maps. Each was rolled and secured with a bit of twine. He carried them over to the table and removed the twine from one of them.

“This map shows the lands of the border between Byrdlon and the Moran Tribes,” he explained. Unrolling it, he held it open for them to see. It did show the borderlands in great detail, but not much else beyond it.

“Is there one that shows further into the Tribes?” Riyan asked.

The journeyman nodded again. He then rolled the map back up and secured the twine around it. Setting it aside, he picked up the second map and soon had it unrolled on the table before them. “This one gives an overall depiction of the terrain for a hundred miles south of the border,” he said.

Riyan gazed at the map and thought this might do. He looked closely at names of the few towns represented on the map for any sign of Hylith, the place they believed to be the city where the lords of the Orack Tribe live.

He followed the road that led south out of Kendruck and found Hylith to be situated on the south side of a lake some distance from the border. Riyan nodded to himself, then glanced to Kevik.

“This will do,” Kevik stated.

“I think so too,” agreed Riyan. Turning to the journeyman cartographer, he said, “How much?”

“A gold and six silver,” he stated.

Riyan’s eyes widened at the price.

“Why so much?” asked Chad. He too felt the map would prove useful for them, but a gold six?

“It takes time to carefully draw a map,” the young man explained. “Meticulous attention to detail must be maintained for the map to be accurate.”

“Where’s Sandlun?” Kevik suddenly interjected.

“What?” Riyan asked as he turned to the magic user.

“Sandlun,” repeated Kevik. “The town that was sacked some months ago.”

The journeyman indicated a place southeast of Kendruck. “Here,” he said.

Riyan looked at the spot for a moment then handed over the coins for the map.

“Thank you,” the apprentice said as he took the coins. “Would you care to look at any other maps?”

“No,” replied Riyan. Rolling up the map, he placed it inside his pack. “I think this will be all we need.”

“If you should ever require another,” the journeyman said, “remember that Orren’s maps are the best and most accurate.”

“We will,” Riyan assured him before turning to head for the door. Once they were outside and heading back to the inn, he asked Kevik why he had asked about Sandlun.

He shrugged and said, “I was curious.”

Riyan grinned. “Let’s hurry back and see if Bart has met with any success at the trading house.” But when they got back to the inn, they found that he hadn’t.

Bart was not in a very good mood. “They wouldn’t even talk to us,” he told them. “We had no sooner entered the building when two Tribesmen came and said we had to leave. I tried to explain why we were there, but they quickly ushered us out and shut the door.”

“At least we have the map,” Chad said. At which point Riyan produced it and spread the map out on one of the tables.

Once it was unrolled, Riyan pointed to Kendruck. “Here’s where we are,” he stated. Then his finger began following the road heading south. “If we follow this road, it will eventually take us to Hylith.” His finger continued to follow the road until it came to the city.

“Then what?” asked Chyfe.

Riyan glanced up from the map and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Once we get there, what do we plan to do?” he asked. “If what we can expect from the locals is anything like what we experienced at the trading house, things could get dicey.”

“Play it by ear,” Bart said. “We should have an idea of what to expect by the time we get there.”

“Then once we are there,” continued Riyan, “try to locate the last segment of the key.”

“How?” asked Chyfe.

“The previous two keys we found were both secreted beneath ruins dating back to the time of the King,” he explained. “All we have to do is locate such ruins in the area and get it.”

“But there could be ruins all over the place!” asserted Chyfe. “And even if we find such, there’s no guarantee that the segment will lie within.”

“But they all won’t have the coat of arms that we are looking for,” interjected Soth. “Each of the previous two were found in ruins bearing one of the coats of arms. All we need to do is find an area bearing the final coat of arms and we’re in business.”

“All the while the locals could be after our blood,” added Seth. “You know what is said about the Tribesmen, and our visit to the trading house only proved its validity. They’re not tolerant of strangers.”

Bart removed the wine bottle that he had taken with them to the trading house. “All we can do is but try,” he said, then held the bottle up before the others. “We’ll be agents of a merchant looking to acquire a contract for quantities of this wine.”

“Might work,” Riyan said. Even Chyfe agreed it was worth a shot.

The rest of the morning and afternoon, they spent restocking their supplies. Then when the sun rose the following morning to a sky all but devoid of clouds, they rode through the southern gates on their way to Hylith.

The sun brought a welcomed warmth to the world as Kendruck disappeared behind them. All that was left of the snow which had fallen on their trip down were small patches in the lee of hills or under the sheltering branches of pines. Off to their right, the white peaks of the Tinderlock Mountains were a stark contrast to the blue of the sky behind them.

While they remained on Byrdlon’s side of the border, Riyan and Bart rode point. But it had been decided that once they crossed over and were in Tribes territory, Seth and Soth should lead. Though it was true their ancestry couldn’t be directly traced to the Tribes, it was hoped their appearance would soften an otherwise harsh reaction.

The walls of Kendruck had barely disappeared before they encountered a Byrdlon patrol. A score of riders appeared out of the east, and once the riders had taken notice of their party, immediately altered course to intercept.

Riyan brought them to a halt as the horsemen drew near. “Think this is trouble?” he asked Bart.

“I wouldn’t think so,” he replied. “We’ve done nothing wrong and Byrdlon isn’t officially at war yet. They most likely want to know what we’re doing.”

Of the twenty riders approaching them, five were quite young. Seth made the comment that they must be some of the Recruits turned Armsmen that the Guild had sent down to the border as per Duke Knor’s request. The rider in the fore of the group was an older man with a smart looking uniform whose insignia marked him as a captain. Obviously a career soldier and leader of the group.

As the riders drew close, Riyan waved to the leader and said, “Good day to you Captain.”

Coming to a halt the captain replied, “And to you sir.”

“Is there a problem?” Bart asked.

“Not that I’m aware,” the captain replied. The way he said it made it sound like there should have been a ‘yet’ at the end of his sentence. “What brings you down this road?”

“On our way to Hylith,” Riyan replied. “We are agents for a merchant who is interested in procuring a contract for a certain wine that he’s heard has recently become available.”

The captain glanced to Riyan then at the group behind him. He took special note of Kevik and his staff. “You’ll not find any welcome in Hylith,” he told them. “They don’t care much for those of us from north of the border.”

“So we understand,” Bart said. “But surely they would tolerate an agent whose only purpose is to increase trade?”

“Never know with them,” the captain said. “Bloodthirsty and treacherous they are.” Then he caught sight of Seth and Soth. Moving his horse forward, he passed by Riyan and came to them.

Before he had a chance to speak, Seth said, “We are not Tribesmen though we understand our appearance is similar. My brother and I are members of the Gilbeth Warrior Guild and our father is in service to Lord Dreaden of Gilbeth.”

The captain mulled that over for a moment, most likely deciding whether to believe them or not.

“Could you tell us how far it is to the border?” Riyan asked.

The captain gave Seth and Soth another once over then returned his attention to Riyan. “Several miles to the south you will find the village of Marl Crest. It marks the beginning of the area disputed by both sides. Another ten miles after that you’ll cross over what we consider to be their northern border.”

“Is it safe?” asked Soth.

“I would never assume to be safe once past Marl Crest,” the captain advised. “Tribesmen raiders quite often roam through the area. It wouldn’t be in your best interest to be discovered by such.”

“But aren’t there Byrdlon patrols?” asked Chyfe. He still remembered what the couple had said about Duke Knor’s soldiers, how they never seemed to be where the Raiders were.

The captain glanced at him. “It’s a large area son,” he said. “It would be impossible for us to be everywhere at once.”

Chyfe’s face turned grim. That wasn’t what he had wanted to hear.

Turning his attention back to Riyan, the captain said, “Just be careful. We wouldn’t want to find your bodies rotting on the side of the road.”

“Don’t worry,” Bart said. “I’m sure we can hold our own if it were to come to that, which I’m sure it won’t.”

The captain sat there a moment in thought. Then he said, “Good luck to you then. I hope your dealings go well for you.” Turning about, he signaled for his men to follow as he started riding off toward the east.

“Cheerful fellow,” commented Chad.

“Dead bodies indeed,” snorted Seth. “What does he think we are? Helpless?”

“Most traders are,” Soth replied. “Of course, we are not your run of the mill traders either.”

Seth laughed. “You got that right.”

They resumed their trek south. For the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon, they were the only ones on the road. Keeping to a leisurely pace, they didn’t come to Marl Crest until the sun was nearing the horizon. Before the buildings of Marl Crest came into view, farmsteads began dotting the landscape. The occasional local could be seen out in the fields doing what they could to prepare their fields for the coming of spring.

The actual village of Marl Crest wasn’t all that big. A chandler’s shop, tavern, inn, and half a dozen auxiliary buildings were it. The locals were of Byrdlon stock. None had the darker skin of tribesmen.

“Kind of small don’t you think?” asked Riyan as he took in the village.

Bart nodded. Then he pointed off to their right. “That could be the reason,” he said.

A graveyard sat ringed by a wooden rail fence. From the markers in the ground, there were several score buried there. Quite a few of the markers looked relatively new.

“Think Raiders hit this place every once in a while?” asked Riyan.

“It’s possible,” answered Bart.

“Then why stay?” asked Chad.

“It’s their home,” replied Bart. “Most people would rather stay in a bad situation than face the unknown. And who’s to say if they moved their lot would be any better?”

“At least here they have the opportunity to gain coins from travelers like us,” Soth said.

Riyan cast another glance toward the graveyard just before they rode into Marl Crest and wondered about that. The first building they came to was the inn which had been kept up nicely despite the charred sections that spoke of a fire sometime in its past. “No sense pushing on further tonight,” he said.

“No,” agreed Bart. “Who knows when we’ll see another inn before reaching Hylith?” Dismounting, he and Riyan entered the inn to see about rooms. Inside, they found an elderly woman speaking with a much younger one. Actually, yelling would be a more accurate term.

“…is this boy?” the elderly lady yelled.

“He cares for me!” shouted the girl. “Doesn’t that matter?”

“No, it doesn’t” replied the elderly lady. A stern look got on her face. “If you don’t tell me who this boy is, I’ll…”

“Ahem.” Riyan cleared his throat to announce their presence. The lady and the girl both turned in their direction.

When the elder of the two saw they had visitors, she said to the younger, “Get off to your room now.”

Sobbing, the younger raced for the door leading into the back and quickly disappeared.

Sighing a tired sigh, the elderly woman crossed over to where Bart and Riyan waited. There was very little energy in her step, almost as if she was about to collapse.

“Problems?” asked Riyan. Riyan could see that the poor old lady was tired, both physically and emotionally

“Nothing that a good swift kick in the rump wouldn’t fix,” she replied with a glance through which the girl had gone. “Can I help you sirs?”

. “We are in need of rooms,” he said.

“And stalls for our horses,” added Bart.

The old lady nodded. “Welcome to The Crest,” she said. “It’s three coppers a room plus another for each horse.”