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Authors: Mark Smylie

The Barrow (36 page)

BOOK: The Barrow
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“A secret no longer, apparently,” said Annwyn faintly. “Pried from their fingers by you and Harvald.” She had turned away so that he couldn't see her face to read her expression. “So I bear upon my body a cursed map made by the Nameless Cults to the hidden tomb of an evil wizard and the sword of the High Kings. The very map whose curse killed my brother.”

“Yes, my Lady,” said Stjepan. “I'm afraid so.”

Malia was weeping softly.

“Give us the witch, give us the witch!”
chanted the distant crowd.

Erim watched Arduin pacing impatiently back and forth in the middle of the fire-lit chamber while everyone else sat about the room looking at the inner doorway. She understood his frustration; things had been dragging on for a few hours now, long enough for the sun to set and the Dusk Maiden and a waning Spring Moon to have appeared in the sky, and the word they were getting from the street from the members of Jonas' crew was increasingly dire. First had come word that the crowds had swollen to perhaps three thousand in number, and there was no question to Erim that they'd gotten louder; then that armed and armored Templars had been spotted on the edges of the crowd, and then that a company of Templar horsemen had been spotted marshaling on the King's Road by the North Gate. The City Watch was out in force in the Public Quarter, having finally quelled the disturbances there, but Jonas sent word that they were letting the priests run the show in front of the house of Araswell, which was even more disturbing. With every passing hour the knights and squires and other members of the household that came and went looked more and more nervous, increasingly sweaty and pale as the tension mounted. Only Gilgwyr seemed to be absolutely, serenely calm as he watched the doorway to the Lady's inner chambers. Erim had an increasingly bad feeling in her stomach, a growing conviction that she was somehow in the absolute worst place to be in the whole city at that moment, trapped in a building about to receive the full attentions of an angry mob.
Hurry up, Black-Heart
, she thought.

Finally, Stjepan emerged, his notebook in one hand, frustration on his face as well. Arduin took the notebook from him and quickly scanned it. “There's no more of this map than before. This grows more scandalous by the hour!” he said in exasperation, thrusting the notebook back at Stjepan angrily.

“Forgive me, my Lord; I assure you the Lady does her best to preserve her modesty, but this is simply all that's appearing. The map will not reveal itself in full, only bits and pieces. I am at a loss,” Stjepan said, running his ink-stained hand ruefully through his hair.

“You'll have to follow the map,” came Leigh's voice.

They all turned, surprised, and sure enough Leigh was sitting amongst them.
He wasn't there a moment before,
Erim thought. Several of the knights and squires drew their weapons as they sprang away from him.

Arduin stared at the grizzled enchanter, calmly sitting in his house as though he'd been there all along. “Who in the Six Hells is this?” he finally asked.

“Ah. This is Leigh Myradim, my Lord; he was once a Magister at the University. Harvald, Gilgwyr, and I were his pupils for a time,” Stjepan said apologetically.

“Aye, I remember now,” Arduin said, staring at the man as though he were a bug. “Yes, Harvald told me about you. Banished from the University for improper conduct. Quite an entrance.” He turned angrily to Stjepan. “I am not going to invite every hedge witch and back-alley warlock in the city to gawk at my sister!”

“I do not think I need to see the young lady to help diagnose her condition,” Leigh said in a deep, calming voice. “The map will not reveal itself in full, you say? Only bits and pieces? A start, and an end, perhaps?”

“Yes,” said Stjepan, glancing at the notes he'd made in his book. “There is no doubting its authenticity. The words are in Maerberos, an ancient dialect often used in the Nameless Cults as a secret tongue. A difficult cipher is used as well, but I've seen it before, it was popular amongst mapmakers of the 12
th
century. And it's given us enough to get started and lay out our prize, but . . .” He suddenly nodded with realization, and Leigh smiled. “Ah, I see.
She
is our map.”

“Yes,” said Leigh proudly. “You were always fast on the uptake, and always so good with map ciphers. Did you ever read the
Book of the Gate of Heaven
by Gammond of Wael?”

“No, Magister, that book is . . . forbidden,” said Stjepan.

“Mmm? Oh, yes, of course it is,” said Leigh with a tired, dismissive wave of his hand. “Gammond wrote that book while in exile himself, you know. I never met him, that was before my time at the University, but I studied under his pupil, Aéd Amav, and naturally he had a secret copy squirreled away. It describes just this very kind of spell; it's an old conjurer's trick, to curse someone so that they are compelled to the chosen task. We cannot risk trying to dispel the Sending. This map has power and danger of its own accord, as Harvald's gruesome death so helpfully illustrates. No, the map will reveal itself as you journey. And when you are done, she will be free of the enchantment . . .”

“As we journey?” Arduin said, incredulous. He spoke slowly, as though explaining himself to children, or the mentally disabled. “Are you daft? You want to take my sister on a quest for a wizard's barrow? Nonsense. We are safe here in my father's house. He is the Baron of Araswell and a Lord of the High Court, and not even the priests can violate this house without the High King's consent.”

As if on cue, Sir Helgi appeared at a doorway with a harried-looking Little Myles in tow. Arduin frowned, his mouth hanging open. “Oh, and now who is
this?”
he barked.

Little Myles did a quick bow. “Forgive me, my Lords, but Jonas sends word; the jig is up!” he said, slightly out of breath. “No one outside knows it yet but Rodrick Urgoar has gone to meet the King of Heaven. The Watch has secretly issued arrest warrants for Lady Annwyn for witchcraft and Lord Arduin for the murder of the High Priest, with the seal of the High King's Court, and they are on their way. The Inquisition will be tasked by the Watch with the custody of the Lady, and their Templars are already about. You don't have much time before all Six Hells break loose!”

Arduin practically sputtered for several moments. “An arrest warrant? For me? For
murder?”
he finally got out. He turned to Stjepan and roared. “I didn't murder High Priest Rodrick, you did!”

“As a matter of jurisprudence the term ‘murder' would imply premeditation, my Lord, and of that we are both innocent,” Stjepan replied. “I would be more than happy to testify that I was the one that struck the unfortunate official and caused his wrongful death, but I fear that will rapidly be beside the point. Our primary concern must be the safety and wellbeing of your sister, my Lord, and please believe me that you do not want her in the hands of the Inquisition, or for that matter the mob. Above all you must spare her that fate. Indeed, there is the ch—”

He broke off and listened as a great roar of anger and rage swelled up from the crowd outside. Everyone paused as the nerve-wracking sound of several thousand throats howling for blood washed up and over the room.

“What was that?” asked someone quietly.

“That
was the mob finally hearing that Urgoar is dead,” said Stjepan, nodding to himself.

A sudden metallic banging started to reverberate through the house. The room froze, then unfroze as several knights and squires rushed to the windows in alarm.

“A battering ram, my Lord,” shouted Sir Helgi. “And the Watch is with them.”

“Well, it's official, then, my Lord Arduin,” said Stjepan. “And the mob sounds angry enough that they might not even allow the Watch the chance to actually arrest anyone.” Stjepan stepped beside Arduin, his voice low. “Harvald guides us still, from the Heavens, with this trick. He intends her to be our map. Let us make haste and take to flight while we still can.”

“This is insane,” Arduin gasped. “I can't possibly . . .” He closed his eyes and tried to think, listening to the battering ram at the doors.

Erim held her breath.

Finally Arduin's eyes flew open. “Prepare our escape. Hurry!”

Everyone in the chamber immediately nodded and bowed to Arduin, Leigh with a grand exaggerated flourish, and most of them exited in haste; Stjepan disappeared into Annwyn's chambers and then returned, quickly dropping the tools of his trade into his satchels. Sir Helgi had lingered, waiting to escort him from the room, and as they left, he turned to Stjepan and started speaking rapidly. “We might have a little time, we've spent the last several hours barricading the front doors, so it won't be easy for them to break through . . .”

As their voices receded, Arduin stared after them, alone and deep in thought, until finally he turned and walked through the doorway to his sister's inner chambers.

There was a low brazier set, sending flickers of light throughout the dark room, and a fire in the fireplace burned low. Annwyn was stretched out on the divan, her body covered up by an embroidered tapestry cloth. Arduin turned to Malia. “Summon the rest of my sister's handmaidens and prepare such of her things as you can very quickly. We will be leaving shortly,” he said.

Malia looked very frightened, but she curtsied and left.

Arduin sat down on the edge of the divan, and slowly turned to his prone sister. He reached out, and slowly uncovered her body as she turned away from him onto her side. He looked at her naked back, watching the words and symbols of the map flicker in and out, as the battering ram banged loudly against the iron doors of his father's house.

A bustle of quiet but intense activity filled the stables and rear courtyard behind the house of Araswell. Dim lanterns lit a knot of knights with bill-hook poleaxes clustered at the rear gate, watching the rear alley and letting Jonas' crew slip in and out the sally port, while the loyal remnants of the once great Aurian family hurriedly prepared coaches and wagons and loaded them with what provisions and property they could easily carry. The squires and stable hands were saddling and armoring the best horses in their barding, and tying other horses to the rear of the wagons. Cole and Ruvos Till had taken up positions inside the house behind the boarded first floor windows directly above the ground floor main doors, and the brothers were busy heckling the crowd from above so as to provide the illusion that the doors were to be defended; they'd volunteered to be the last out.

Jonas and Horne slipped through the sally port and quickly spotted Stjepan and Erim beside one of the wagons, conferring with the rest of the knights and squires and the half dozen able men who were to teamster the coaches and wagons. They hurried over and joined them. “Just like old times, eh?” Jonas said with a grin to Stjepan, then quickly turned to the others. “Our friends have been busy. We've got a safe route all laid out for you. Once you're in the alley, head north to the Street of Loria and then head west. Cross the King's Road as fast as you can into Baker Street, and then follow it to the aqueducts. Follow the Aqueduct Way around and up to the High Promenade, and then it's a straight run through the Gates of Eldyr and the West Gate, and then you're out the city and on your way to Pierham.”

“Pierham?” asked Sir Helgi, suddenly looking nervous. “You mean us to take the river?”

“Heth's curse only strikes when you are on the open seas, Sir Knight,” said Jonas. “The rivers do not bend to his word.”

“Oh, sure, some of us have taken the river before, but it ain't that fucking simple,” said one tough-looking wagon-driver. “You want us to drive these wagons clear across the city while avoiding the crowd and the Watch? It's impossible!” Some of the others muttered nervously as well.

“The hard part will be the King's Road, if you get caught up in the Templar horse, but we've got some folks working on that,” said Jonas. “The City Watch threw a lot of men into the Public Quarter today, and that means that the rest of the city is a bit light. Lots of folks looking to take advantage of that right now. The whole city's in chaos. The route we've laid out for you, you shouldn't see a single Watchman once you're past the King's Road. And I believe our enchanter is off trying to keep the crowd from the north side of the High Quarter.” Erim looked around; Leigh was indeed nowhere in sight.

BOOK: The Barrow
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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