The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde (13 page)

“I don’t think they’ve traced you two here yet,” Bart assured him. “But it’s only a matter of time.”

Returning his attention to Bart, he asked in an equally low voice, “Do you know if they’ve been to Quillim?”

Bart nodded. “They have.”

Chad’s face paled.

“What?” Bart asked.

“Riyan sent his mother a letter to let her know he’s alright,” he explained. “He told here where we were.”

“And a son in the Warriors Guild isn’t something a mother will keep to herself,” Bart concluded.

“What are we going to do?” Chad asked.

“They won’t dare do anything while you two are within the Guild’s grounds,” Bart said. “From what I understand, if they did the repercussions could be lethal for them. No, they’ll wait for a chance when you aren’t within the Guild’s protection.”

“Our ten-day isn’t for another four days,” Chad said.

“Good,” Bart said. “In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out in case they show up.” He could see the worry on his friend’s face. “Relax. You two are in the safest place imaginable.”

Chad nodded. “You’re right.”

“Now,” began Bart in an attempt to get his friend’s mind off of things, “what’s your training been like.”

For the next hour they talked about the Warriors Guild, the different skills they work on, and a dozen other subjects. Though throughout it all lay an undercurrent of worry about what may be in store for them in the future.

A candle burned on the table next to him as he studied the words upon the page of the book laid open before him. Most of the symbols and wording he understood, but a few failed all attempts at understanding.

His former master had quite a collection of books, but so far none has yielded any information on the unknown symbols. Rubbing his eyes, he again worked to figure them out. This was the final spell which he must master in order to complete his staff, a spell of Arcane Infusion. The one he’s working on will infuse the staff with up to three of the minor spells he already knew. There were other Infusion spells he had come across during his research in Allar’s library which would be more effective when creating a Staff of Power, but this one held the least amount of symbols with which he was unfamiliar.

“Kevik!”

From outside he heard Bart calling his name. Sighing, he again rubbed his eyes and stretched. His back ached from the hours he’d spent pouring over the books in Allar’s library. He could definitely use a break. Going over to the window he stuck his head out and looked down at Bart standing by the door. “Be right down,” he hollered. When he saw Bart acknowledge him with a wave, he pulled his head back in and went down to the bottom floor to open the door for him.

Grabbing one of the candles from the table as he passed by, he took the stairs down through the second floor to the first. He unlocked the door which was locked by more than just an ordinary locking mechanism and stepped aside as Bart entered.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kevik said as he swung the door closed.

“You too,” replied Bart. When Kevik was finished relocking the door and turned to return up to the third floor, Bart saw his face. “Burning the midnight oil?” Bart paused and looked at his friend. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“You have sacks under your eyes the size of grapes,” he explained.

“I do?” Kevik asked. He reached up and felt them with his fingers then gave Bart a grin. “I have been keeping long hours lately.”

Bart followed him up to the third floor where it was a bit warmer, but not by much.

“Why don’t you build a fire in the fireplace?” he asked.

“My robe keeps me warm enough,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t have much time to spend chopping wood and I hardly have the wherewithal to hire someone.” Bart nodded in understanding. Despite having a chest of gold coins secreted away somewhere in the estate, he could hardly use them. After all, they were the ones they had brought out with them from the Ruins of Algoth. If he were to spend any of them it would raise problematic questions.

“Any further on your staff?” Bart asked.

“Actually I’m almost finished,” Kevik said with pride. He walked over to the table where the staff lay upon two stands, one at either end of the staff that kept it six inches above the table. Removing it from the stands, he held it out for Bart to see. “I have but one more spell to master and it’s complete.”

“That’s great news,” Bart said. He reached out to take the staff but Kevik pulled the staff away and shook his head.

“Might not be a good idea for anyone but me to touch it until it’s complete,” he explained.

“As you wish,” replied Bart.

Kevik set it back on the stands and turned to find Bart looking at the book that sat open on the table.

“Is this part of the spell you’re working on?” he asked.

“That’s right,” he said. “Though keep in mind that indiscriminate perusal of a magic user’s book can at times bring unfortunate repercussions.”

“What?” asked Bart as he turned to look at him.

“Simply put, a magic user’s spell book is normally trapped in some way,” he explained. “Fortunately that one is simply an informational one. You might wish to make sure it’s safe before you glance at any more open pages in the future.” Bart nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Kevik came to his side and said, “But yes, that’s the spell I’m working on.” He pointed to several of the symbols that reoccurred throughout the spell. “I don’t know what these are. So far every book I’ve read has failed to mention them.”

“Have you looked through all the books yet?” he asked.

“Not yet,” he replied with a sigh. “There are still dozens more which may yield the information I require.”

“What will you do if they don’t tell you what you need to know?” Bart asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Bart moved over and took a seat in a nearby chair as he mulled it over. “What about asking the help of another magic user?” he suggested. “I’m sure one with more experience would understand them.”

“It’s not that easy,” he said. Sitting in a chair next to Bart he continued. “For the most part, magic users are a secretive lot. None wish to share their knowledge unless it’s with their apprentice or very close associates. Unfortunately I am accounted as neither by anyone.”

“Hmmm, that does pose a problem,” he agreed.

“So, what have you been up to?” Kevik asked.

“Well, let me tell you…” began Bart. He then went into the details of his trip to Kemmet, Durik, and his subsequent exploration of Durik’s estate. When he told of the letters detailing their knowledge of Riyan, Chad, and Bart his eyes widened.

“Do you think they’ll show up here?” he asked.

Bart nodded. “It’s only a matter of time.” He then explained how Riyan had told his mother where he was and that it was unlikely she would keep it a secret. “So far very few people know of your involvement. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But that’s not going to last forever,” he explained. “Every time one of you comes out here creates a possibility that they’ll make the connection.”

“I know,” admitted Bart. “But you have magical defenses in place right?”

“To an extent, yes,” affirmed Kevik. “But there are ways around them if you know they’re there.” He gave Bart a grim look then added, “I wish I was further along in my studies. I’m sure I could come up with something more potent.”

“What you have now seems to be fairly effective,” Bart said encouragingly.

“I hope so,” he replied.

They sat quietly for a minute as each reflected on their own thoughts. The candlelight danced in the slight breeze coming in through the window and Bart shivered in the cold.

“You really need to get some wood in here for guests if nothing else,” he said.

Kevik grinned. “Maybe you would be helpful in supplying it for me?” Bart shook his head. “I’m not that cold, yet.” Then a thought came to him about the problem he was having with his spell. “Could you give me something that has those symbols you don’t understand written on it?”

“What for?” Kevik asked.

“It might be a long shot,” he explained, “but there may be a way I can find out the information you need.”

“There is?” Kevik looked on him doubtfully. But when Bart explained what he intended to do, his doubt turned into hope. “It’s possible,” he agreed. “They use much the same symbols and rituals that we do, or so I understand.” Kevik stood and walked over to a pile of books on a smaller table near the one which held the open book he had been studying. He searched through the pile of books for a moment before returning to Bart with one in his hand. He opened it up to one of the pages and pointed out five different symbols. “These are the ones I don’t understand.” Bart took the book, and pointed them out to Kevik. When Kevik nodded, he closed the book and slipped it into his pack. “I’ll leave in the morning,” he explained. “I may be a couple days. If Riyan and Chad visit you on their ten-day, let them know what’s going on.”

“I will,” he replied.

Bart shivered again from the cold and came to his feet. “I’m returning to town where I can get warm,” he announced.

“Don’t you want to stay in your room in the manor?” he asked.

Bart shook his head. “No. It’s getting too cold to be there without a fire. Once you get some wood in I’ll be more than happy to stay.”

Kevik looked a bit embarrassed by the fact Bart was cold as he picked up the candle again to escort him down to the door.

On the way down the stairs, Bart suggested, “The next time Riyan and Chad stop by, why don’t you have them lay in some wood for you? With their newly formed muscles they should make quick work of it.”

Kevik laughed. “I’ll be sure to ask them.”

At the door, Bart waited while Kevik undid the various locks, both mechanical and magical. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“With any luck I’ll have already figured them out before you do,” Kevik said hopefully.

“Keep an eye out for strangers,” warned Bart as he stepped through the door.

“I will,” Kevik assured him. “You be careful too.”

Bart nodded then hurried through the cold night to where his horse was tied. He quickly mounted and with a wave of farewell to Kevik, headed on into town.

Kevik shut the door and locked it. On his way back up to his work room, he felt a shiver from the cold. Maybe Bart was right. He definitely planned on asking Chad and Riyan about supplying some wood when they arrived. Back on the third floor, he set the candle on the table. Sitting in the chair before the open book, he resumed his search for the elusive explanations that he needed so badly.

Riyan had scribed far too late last night and it showed. Several times he had allowed the tip of his sword to droop, all but once he caught it himself before the Drillmaster or the other instructor had noticed. Tad, who was the one helping the Drillmaster today, had noticed the one lapse he failed to correct in time. It cost him an extra hour of drill after the others had left for the day.

His extra hour of drill was sparring with Tad, which for the most part he enjoyed. He thought his skill with the sword had improved, but it was hard to judge such things when you sparred with those who could put you to shame if they really wanted. So he had to rely on their judgment and believe what they told him.

“You’re dragging Riyan,” Tad said as he scored another painful hit on Riyan’s upper chest.

Riyan didn’t reply, simply concentrated all the harder on what he was doing. One thing they had taught him about fencing, your opponent would often say things to break your concentration one way or another. The key to good swordsmanship was to remain focused on the battle and not play into your opponent’s hand.

“I hear Stryntner kept you up too late last night,” Tad told him. Then he lashed out with a thrust that Riyan was barely able to parry to the side.

“Nice,” complimented Tad. Of all the instructors, Tad was the one who gave the Recruits the most encouragement. The others expected perfection and only spoke to point out a flaw.

“Trying to make a good impression,” Riyan said as he stepped back to catch his breath.

Unfortunately, Tad wasn’t going to allow him that time. Moving forward he struck a blow aimed at Riyan’s head. When Riyan managed to block it, he came right back with a cut to the side. Then one to the head, the side, the legs, and on and on. Riyan managed to keep his blade from making contact.

Tad finally stepped back and gave Riyan a chance to catch his breath. He didn’t have much endurance left, the day’s worth of fat-ugly practice along with all the rest had sapped his strength to almost nothing. As he waited for Tad’s next attack, his arm started to tremor slightly and his legs grew weak.

“Tired?” asked Tad.

Riyan nodded. “Extremely.”

With a grin, Tad lowered his sword. “I expect you would be after all you’ve done today,” he said.

Relieved that it was over, Riyan let his sword drop. Just when he had the tip pointing toward the ground, Tad gave out with a cry and launched another series of attacks.

As the first blow came at him fast, he tried to bring up his sword in time but failed to stop the broadsided strike to his side. After that, he was able to stop most of them.

“When a battle rages for hours,” Tad said as he continued to launch attack after attack, “this is how you’re going to feel.”

Another blow went through his defenses and pain erupted in his shoulder. But Riyan bore the pain and gritted his teeth. It took all he had to simply keep his arm moving. Then he saw Barin enter the courtyard and approach Tad from behind. He held a bucket in his hands and wore a mischievous grin on his face. That moment of distraction when he looked to Barin cost him another bruised rib. Returning his attention to the battle at hand, he worked to keep Tad’s wooden sword from dotting his body with another bruise.

When Barin was but five feet from Tad, he gave Riyan a wink and launched the contents of the bucket at Tad’s back. Just before the water hit, Tad leaped to the side and the ice cold water hit Riyan head on.

Barin looked in shock at the water soaked Riyan and then to where Tad was grinning at them both. “How?” Barin asked.