Quest's End: The Broken Key #3 (43 page)

“Which one should I put it in?” he asked.

Bart shrugged. “Pick one,” he replied. “If nothing happens, try another.”

“Alright,” said Riyan. Then kneeling down before the indented spaces comprising the broken circle, he chose the bottom one. As he brought it forward, his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t get the segment lined up with the indented space. It was only through a sheer force of will did he quiet his trembling hands and insert the segment within the indented space. No sooner had he inserted it in as far as it would go than a rumbling sound was heard coming from the other side of the wall. A half second later, a section of the floor to his right began dropping out of sight. When the rumbling finally came to a stop, where the floor had dropped, were now steps leading down.

“Just like on the island,” breathed Chyfe.

Riyan nodded and came to his feet. Moving quickly, he was the first to the top of the steps. The steps descended toward, and then passed beneath, the wall bearing the coat of arms. Turning to Bart, he said, “This is it!”

Coming to stand beside him, Bart clapped him on the back. “Let’s go get it,” he said. Then he stepped onto the top step and together, they began making their way down. Kevik came next with staff aglow. Chyfe and Chad brought up the rear.

Twelve steps in all, they came to an end at a small room. In the center of the room was a four foot high marble pedestal. But when Kevik’s light came and filled the room revealing all, the excitement that had filled Riyan since first seeing the mural upstairs, died. For dirt and broken pieces of stone filled the left side of the room. A hole gaped in the ceiling. Someone had beaten them to it. The segment was gone!

It had been over a week since they left their homes in Terix. As soon as the storm broke and the roads cleared to a manageable level, Raestin decided to make a visit to Quillim to see the woman who so captivated him. He made a brief stop at a friend’s home in Wardean and now was on the road making his way through the forested hills a few hours south of the woman he loved.

Being away from her so long had been almost more than he could bear. And as soon as he felt the time was right, he would propose. But for them to marry so soon after meeting would be deemed improper to some. So in difference to her reputation and society’s conventions, he must wait.

Beside him on a pale chestnut stallion rode Paul, the ‘Captain’ of his guards. Or so he liked to think of himself. He had been protecting Raestin’s caravans since Raestin was but a green trader. Now, fifteen years later, they had a friendship that was much more than that of employer and hired guard.

As they rode through the wintry countryside, signs of the coming of spring were everywhere and Paul knew what was on his friend’s mind. “Conventions be damned,” he said for the hundredth time. “Ask her to marry when we arrive.” When Raestin glanced toward him, Paul added, “You two love each other. It’s been months since you first began courting her. You’re getting too old to be playing these foolish games.”

“I know,” the trader replied. Then what Paul had said actually registered. “Old?” Glancing sidelong to his friend, he saw him break into a grin. “But I could no more rush our union than the blossoming of a budding rose.” He heard his friend sigh in resignation. This wasn’t the first time they had discussed his and Kaitlyn Borenson’s future life together. “All I can say is, we’ll see when we get there.” In truth, this waiting was beginning to wear on him. If she gave even the slightest indication, he would propose on the spot and as Paul said, conventions be damned!

Riding behind the pair were another half dozen guards. Some had been with Raestin almost as long as Paul. These were the men he refused to cut loose during the winter months while his caravan wintered. Each had families and desperately needed the coins he paid them. To be cut loose until spring would bring them undue hardship, and that was something he simply couldn’t allow. He knew their wives and children almost as well as he knew his own. Besides, he had the coins to spare and knew they wouldn’t take charity. They were proud men.

“Riders to the south,” Kern, a five foot six inch guard with neatly trimmed dark brown hair announced from the rear. He was a five year veteran with Raestin and good in a fight. A fact he has proven on more than one occasion.

Two riders were gradually overtaking them. From the looks of them, they were a seedy pair.

“Trouble do you think?” asked Paul.

“I wish,” replied Sterret in a bored tone. All six foot five inches spoke the warrior. Why he never joined the Guild was something he hadn’t ever felt the need to share with the others. Raestin wondered at times why he was happy being just a caravan guard when there was so much more he could experience. But as he was honest and one who Raestin could trust with his life, Raestin never pursued the matter.

Raestin kept them at their present pace, all the while the riders continued to draw closer. When they finally came abreast and began to pass, Raestin nodded to them and said, “Good day to you.”

One man, who was missing part of his left ear and had the look of one whom never smiled, glanced toward him but didn’t return the salutation.

“On your way to Quillim?” asked Paul in a friendly manner.

The riders came to an abrupt halt and took a good look at the eight riders. “Are you traveling to Quillim too?” asked the man with the partial ear. Beside him, his companion who was a great deal shorter had his hand on the hilt of his sword and looked for all the world like he was about to attack. Whatever response Paul had expected, it wasn’t this.

Paul locked eyes with Half-ear and said, “Yes.” Behind him, Raestin’s other guards placed their hands on the hilt of their swords. All of them were confused as to the reaction of the men. Sterret edged his horse closer to the two men. If there was fighting to be done, he wanted to be first in line.

Half-ear squinted his eyes and came close to having an almost feral look. “You ain’t gonna beat us to it!” he screamed. Then he and his companion kicked their horses and bolted down the road.

Raestin and his guards sat on their horses in stupefied shock by the man’s exclamation. “What was that all about?” asked Paul as he watched the two men quickly disappearing down the road.

Shaking his head, Raestin replied, “I don’t know.” Then nudging his horse in the sides, they resumed their progress to Quillim.

An hour later, their road was joined by a river emerging from the hills to the east. There the river turned to follow a more northerly route as it ran alongside the road.

It wasn’t far now. Soon the bridge crossing over the river toward Quillim should be coming into sight. Raestin started thinking about Kaitlyn, pretty much as he had every day since their first meeting. The way her hair caught the sunlight, the slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes when she smiled, every memory firmly etched into the halls of his mind.

“Something up ahead,” announced Paul, breaking him out of his reverie. Focusing on the here and now, Raestin saw a lone horse atop the crest of the next hill. It stood there motionless, its head turned away from them, almost as if it was looking further up the road.

“It’s just a horse,” observed, Cailin. The youngest and newest recruit, he was still a bit green about the ears. The only reason Raestin hadn’t cut him loose with the others for the winter, was Paul’s insistence that he remain. Seems he has a child on the way with only his wife’s aged mother to help out. Five foot four with fiery red hair, he was decent with a crossbow. His swordplay on the other hand was decidedly worse. Despite Paul’s continued drills and coaching, his sword was better left in its scabbard should trouble develop.

“Maybe,” replied Paul as he brought them to a stop. “It might be best if I check this out first,” he said to Raestin. When he received a nod from the trader, he said, “Cailin,” and indicated for the young guard to come with him. Then he nudged his horse forward and proceeded toward the horse. Cailin hurried to catch up.

“Do you really think this is trouble?” Cailin asked. The horse on the hill still hadn’t turned to look their way.

“It doesn’t feel right,” replied Paul. “After a while, you get a sense for such things.”

As he rode at Paul’s side, Cailin scanned the horizon for any sign of trouble. His crossbow remained slung across his back, easily accessible should the need arise. They were almost halfway to the crest in the hill where the horse stood when Cailin’s horse snorted. Turning its head in their direction, the horse atop the rise shied away a foot or two before coming to a stop.

“It’s skittish,” observed Cailin. Beside him, Paul nodded.

Looking first toward the area adjacent to the river, Paul quickly took in his surroundings. Except for the horse, everything appeared as it should. “Get your crossbow ready,” he said quietly.

Quickly removing it from behind his back, Cailin cranked the handle until the wire clicked into position. Then he removed a bolt from the quiver that was secured to the saddle’s pommel and loaded it. “Ready,” he said. Again, Paul only nodded.

Slow but steady they made their way toward the horse before them. A couple times the horse made to flee, but always returned to the same spot. When Paul was within half a dozen yards, he saw the body lying on the road. Two arrows were sticking from the man’s back.

“Bandits!” Cailin exclaimed.

“Possibly,” said Paul, though his tone said he didn’t believe it. “Why didn’t they take the horse?”

“Because…” began Cailin before stopping. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” replied Paul. He then glanced to his young protégé. “Keep alert,” he said, “just as I taught you.”

Cailin nodded and placed the butt of the crossbow against his shoulder. Though he held it loosely, he could raise it and fire in no time.

Paul moved forward, continuously scanning the hills to either side as he did. Ten feet beyond the first dead man was another. He too had been killed by an arrow. The deadly missile had taken him through the neck. Of this man’s horse, there was no sign.

When he reached the man to whom the horse had been staying near, he noticed the man only had half an ear. “It’s the two riders who passed us earlier,” he told Cailin.

“Who attacked them?” Cailin asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Paul. “They could still be in the area.” Scanning the area yet again, he didn’t see any sign of those who had done this. Swinging down from the saddle, he went over to Half-ear and knelt beside him. Checking the man’s belt pouch, he found half a dozen copper coins, two silvers, and a small gem that wouldn’t fetch very much. Leaving the coins and gem in the pouch, he stood up and glanced around the horizon again.

“It wasn’t thieves that killed them,” he told Cailin. As his eyes came to rest on the young guard, he added, “He still has his coins.”

“Then who did it?” asked Cailin in a voice full of confusion.

“I don’t know,” he said. “We’ll report it to the Magistrate after we arrive in Quillim.” Moving to his horse, he grabbed the reins then remounted. “It’s none of our concern.” Turning to Cailin, he said, “I’ll stay here. Go tell Raestin it’s safe to proceed.”

“Yes sir,” Cailin said. Then still holding his crossbow loosely, he turned his horse around and quickly returned to where Raestin and the others were waiting. A minute later, they joined Paul by the dead men.

“Whatever happened here is over,” Paul told the trader as he drew near. Looking around the horizon, he said, “No one’s around.”

“Still,” replied Raestin, “we shouldn’t lower our guard.”

“Hadn’t planned to,” Paul assured him.

Before them, the road continued winding its way alongside the river. The forest, though not thick, could still hide a band of men bent on no good. Especially when the road wound its way over and through the rolling hills.

“It’s not more than five miles to the bridge,” Raestin stated. “Let’s make it quick.”

Paul nodded and took the lead. Moving at a pace quicker than what they had before, they headed for the bridge.

Cailin couldn’t help but stare at the dead men as they passed. Who would do such a thing and not rob them? That question and others ran through the minds of every man as they left the scene of death behind.

For the next hour they were more vigilant than usual. Harbingers of death seemed to lurk behind every tree, every shadow was a man with a bow ready to take their lives. When the bridge leading to Quillim finally appeared, a sense of relief came over them.

Paul noticed the drop in the men’s guard. “We’re not out of the woods yet,” he said. Then he realized they were in fact within a forest, sparse as it was near the road. Smiling to himself, he glanced over to Raestin who had a grin himself. “You know what I mean.”

Raestin chuckled and nodded.

They reached the bridge and crossed over, their horses’ hooves echoing on the wooden planks. Not far past the bridge, appeared the first outlying buildings of the village of Quillim. Not much more than farmhouses and barns, the village center was still some distance away. From off in the distance, the baaing of sheep could be heard.

That brought the remembrance of Black Face to Raestin, and the sheep statue he had given his love. He often wondered what Riyan would think when he found out his mother had kept the one sheep that had driven him crazy the most. Thinking of that impending moment brought a smile to him. Riyan was still a bit young yet to understand the sentimentality a woman can have for such things.

As they rode further toward the village center, they didn’t at first notice the lack of people out and about. But when the homes became more numerous, the absence was unmistakable.

“Where are the children?” asked Paul. The last time they had come this way, the sound of children at play could be heard everywhere. But now, only the occasional call of a bird broke the stillness.

“And their parents too,” added Kern. Things around here were a bit too quiet.

Then from up ahead they saw a woman coming toward them carrying a basket. When she took notice of them heading her way, she stopped. Then lifting the hem of her dress, she turned and fled toward the nearest house.