Slathbog's Gold - Forman Mark L. Страница 39

“A near-impossible task,” said Bregnest, a stern look on his face. “What value is a path we cannot enter or use?”

“As you said, much can change in a hundred years,” Eric replied.

Bregnest considered Eric’s story for some time. Alex also thought about the story, concerned about his own ability to swim upstream against a swift current. Of course, they’d have to find the stream first, before trying to swim up it, so perhaps there was no need to worry just yet.

“Is the stream of water the only entrance to the tunnel?” questioned Bregnest.

“I cannot say for sure,” answered Eric. “Though this small map shows no other.”

Eric produced an old piece of paper from his pocket and held it up for Bregnest to see. The map showed the city of Varlo, the castle, and the fields around the city. The bottom of the map showed a stream that began south of the city, well away from the city walls.

“This map shows nothing of the tunnel,” said Bregnest after looking carefully at the paper. “If it showed the tunnel or the inside of the castle, it might be of value.”

“I have no such map to offer,” said Eric. “Though I daresay my story has been worth its promised price.”

“Perhaps,” said Bregnest. “But perhaps this story is of your own making. Have you any proof that what you’ve said is true?”

“Only my word,” replied Eric in a defiant tone. “I am old and have nothing of value but my word. I give you my word and a promise to repay the story’s price if it should prove false.”

“And if we should return to claim payment,” commented Bregnest with a slight smile. For several minutes Bregnest remained silent, then he spoke again. “Your story is a good one and worth the price.”

“You are most kind,” said Eric, bowing slightly. “I will take my leave of your company then, as it is late.”

Bregnest nodded to the old man and handed him five gold coins, motioning for each in the company to do the same. Eric moved around the room, collecting his fee and bowing to each of the adventurers in turn.

“Where will we find you, if we return?” asked Bregnest as Eric moved toward the door.

“Here at the inn,” answered Eric. “I oversee the stables for Tantic, though there is little to do these days.”

“And if we do not return for many years? Who shall we pay in your place?” Bregnest questioned as Eric opened the door to leave.

“If it takes you that long, you may keep the payment,” Eric replied with a smile. “You still have far to go before ever reaching Varlo, and you may never get there. I will wait for your return as long as I can.”

Bregnest nodded as Eric left the room, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t trust him,” said Halfdan after several minutes of silence. “How did he know we were going to Varlo at all?”

“He believed the story,” commented Arconn in a thoughtful tone. “It may not be a true story, but he believes it.”

“True story or not, Bregnest is right: a secret entrance once used is no longer secret,” said Thrang sounding as angry as Halfdan. “Though the old man was right to say it’s better than the front gate.”

“Not better if it leads us straight to the dragon’s den,” said Tayo.

“Better to surprise the dragon in his den than to have him surprise us some place else,” said Skeld with a smile.

“And do our youngest members have nothing to say on this matter?” Bregnest asked.

“Youth should speak when spoken to,” replied Andy with a bow.

“That may do in your father’s house,” said Bregnest with a slight smile. “You and Alex are part of this company and may speak or remain silent as you see fit.”

“I have little to say,” said Andy. “Though if there is a secret way, it would be worth a look.”

“But if it’s blocked, we may waste time looking,” said Alex, following Andy’s lead. “And if the dragon knows about it, won’t he watch it closely?”

“All have made good points,” said Bregnest, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “We have a long road before reaching Varlo. We will have time to consider Eric’s story and what course we should take as we travel. Though I am of the opinion that we should at least look for this secret path.”

“How far is it to Varlo?” Alex asked.

“A good distance,” Bregnest answered. “If we take the straightest road, we must still ride to the Brown Hills and then past the ruins of Aunk.”

“And then there is the dark forest. We must pass that no matter which road we take,” Thrang added.

“The dark forest should not be difficult to cross if we take the right paths,” Arconn commented.

“And meet the right people,” said Bregnest, looking up at Arconn. “But nothing is sure, except that tomorrow we must ride on. We will discuss this again when we are closer to Varlo.”

“To Varlo,” said Halfdan, raising his mug.

“To Varlo indeed,” Bregnest replied without toasting.

chapter thirteen

Dwarf Realm

Morning came sooner than Alex would have liked after the company’s late night. It was wet and windy outside, though surprisingly warm. Skeld laughed at the weather in his usual manner, but the rest of them did not feel so happy. Halfdan complained loudly and asked more to himself than to his companions if it would be better to stay another day. Alex looked around the stable as he saddled Shahree, but there was no sign of Eric Von Tealo.

“A poor day to start, as Halfdan has noted,” Bregnest commented as they led their horses out of the stable.

“Poor or fair, Halfdan would rather have another drink than ride,” said Skeld, laughing merrily as he looked up at the sky.

Halfdan gave Skeld an evil look. The others saw the look and smiled at each other, knowing that Halfdan had consumed a large amount of the fine spiced ale of Techen the night before. Now his words and mood showed he was paying the price for his over-indulgence.

Ignoring the weather, they mounted their horses and Bregnest led them back to the city’s gates. The guards allowed them to pass with only a nod, obviously preferring their dry watch hut to asking questions in the rain. The company headed east, leaving the mud-colored city of Techen behind.

The rain continued to fall all day, but as night approached, the rain finally slowed to only a few drops. There had been little talk on the road, and Alex had spent the time thinking about his studies. He had learned the elfin letters and could read most of the book Iownan had given him.

Arconn was pleased with Alex’s progress, but each night, he insisted Alex spend some time with the magic book. Alex did what Arconn told him to do, though he worked much slower with the magic book than he did with the book Iownan had given him.

Alex had mixed feelings about magic, and a lot of questions as well. He didn’t doubt that magic worked; it was more that it seemed too easy. He worried that if things were too easy he wouldn’t appreciate them, that he might start to think of magic as a common thing.

Of course he was pleased that he could start fires and put them out with a simple command, and he was also pleased that the same magic had allowed him to defeat a troll. He could see that magic might be very useful, and he knew that learning more magic would be helpful. The voice at the back of his mind, however, warned him that magic could also be dangerous. Alex thought he should understand magic better before learning too much of it.

By the next morning, the rain had stopped completely, though the sky was still cloudy and dark. The winds had died down as well, and even Halfdan seemed to be in a better mood. The road was slick and muddy so they moved slowly. Arconn continued his practice of riding ahead or off to the side, returning with some item for Alex to identify.

This routine went on for a week, and on the eighth night after leaving Techen, Alex finally asked Arconn, “How much further is it to the Brown Hills?” He was supposed to be studying his magic book, but his heart wasn’t in it.