Lord Kueryn was amazed by the sigil inscribed wall, as was Geffen his magic user. “Incredible,” he breathed. His eyes were inextricably drawn toward the circular indentation wherein the key was to be placed.
“Was that a friend of yours?” questioned Lord Geop.
Riyan turned toward him and saw that he was asking about the skeletal remains on the steps. Shaking his head, he said, “No. We found him like that when we arrived.”
“Who was he I imagine?” asked Lord Hurrin.
“Probably just a thief who wasn’t careful enough,” replied Bart.
“What do you mean?” asked Lord Kueryn.
“The dais is trapped my lord,” he replied with a grin. “Good luck in trying to reach the wall.”
Lord Kueryn looked again to the thief, then the steps leading up to the dais. His face turned into a frown as he glanced at the circular key held in his hands. Then coming to a decision, he said, “Okay thief, you open it.”
“Me?” asked Bart. “But my hands are tied and I don’t have my tools.”
Lord Hurrin pulled the familiar rolled leather pack that held his picks. “Do you mean these?” he asked.
Bart didn’t answer.
“Untie him,” Lord Kueryn stated. “Let the thief open the Horde.”
One of Lord Kueryn’s men came and cut the bonds binding Bart’s hands. Then Lord Hurrin handed him his picks.
“I trust they are all still here?” he asked as he took the rolled leather. Bart grinned inwardly as he saw how his words had scored with the lord. Turning to the River Man, he reached out for the key.
“After this,” Lord Kueryn said, “you and your friends will be free.”
Bart didn’t reply, he just took the key and turned back toward the sigil inscribed wall.
“Good luck,” Riyan said.
“You better hope he is successful,” Lord Kueryn said to Riyan. “For if he fails, you will be next.”
Bart glanced to Riyan and gave him a grin. “It won’t come to that,” he assured him. He saw Riyan nod then turned to the wall. Taking a calming breath, he stepped forward.
Riyan and Bart had no sooner left with the River Man and his men, than Kevik felt someone tugging at his pack. Lying paralyzed on the ground as he was put him in little position to object. There were a couple more tugs as they tried to get it off of him, then he felt the straps being severed by a knife just before it was taken.
“You shouldn’t be messing with a magic user’s stuff,” a voice said.
“Shut up and keep watch on the prisoners,” another voice said.
From the way Kevik had been deposited on the ground, all he could see was Chyfe’s back and a little bit of the sky. Who had his pack and what they were doing with it, he didn’t know.
“Anything good inside?” asked a third man.
“Not for you,” the first man replied. There was a pause, then… “Must be his spell book.”
“I hear they always have magic traps on those,” Second Voice said.
“I know that,” First Voice replied. “I’m not stupid.”
Another moment of silence as they continued rummaging through Kevik’s pack.
“Looks like a wand,” Third Voice said. “Could be worth a few golds.”
Then… “You better not open that,” said Second Voice.
“What?” asked First Voice. “Are you afraid a demon will jump out and steal your soul or something?”
“You can never be too careful when dealing with magic users,” Second Voice explained.
“Oh come on,” said Third Voice. “Open it.”
A couple seconds of silence pass then… “There’s nothing but gray powder in here,” complained First Voice.
“Maybe it’s a spell component,” Third Voice said. “You can get a lot of coins for some of them.”
Kevik felt control of his limbs return. Before him, he saw Chyfe’s back move ever so slightly. Working his jaw, he found that it moved. The spell holding them was gone! “Keep still!” he quietly urged the others.
He desperately needed to know where their enemies were in relation to him and the others. Ever so slightly, he rotated his head to try and acquire a better look at their surroundings.
It seemed like forever, but he saw where half a dozen Tribesmen were going through their packs. All their belongings were strewn across the ground.
A plan began to form. He needed to neutralize everyone at once, and he needed to do it fast. There was only one way. “Listen,” he said to the others, “on two, take a deep breath and hold it.” Unable to ascertain if they understood or not, he quietly whispered, “One…two.” On ‘two’, he took a deep breath and sat up.
“Hey!” one of the soldiers exclaimed. “The spell’s worn off.
As Tribesmen and Byrdlon soldiers turned their attention toward him, Kevik focused on a spot nearby where the majority were congregating and cast his spell. A yellow fog enveloped the men who quickly succumbed to its effects. He cast the spell again in a different area, this time taking out most of the Byrdlon soldiers.
Once more, arcane words issued forth as Kevik watched three soldiers with swords drawn coming straight for him. Before the soldiers could reach him, he, as well as the oncoming soldiers, were enveloped by another of the yellow sleep clouds.
Kevik took a moment to see if the cloud would affect him and the others lying next to him. He hadn’t been entirely sure that holding one’s breath would work. But as he was still conscious and all the soldiers were not, he had to conclude that it would.
He nudged Chyfe into motion as he quickly came to his feet. To his relief, Chyfe, Chad, and the twins were getting up. They had heard him and were holding their breaths. Kevik turned toward where the soldiers had been going through his pack and saw that the small box which contained the gray powder was closed. He knew it would be, otherwise his spells wouldn’t have worked. For when the box was opened, the gray powder absorbed nearby, active magics.
Chyfe grabbed him and indicated he should get out of the cloud.
Kevik shook his head vehemently. He first had to retrieve his staff and other items which lay before him. Pointing to them, he shrugged off Chyfe’s hand and hurried forward. As he rushed to gather his things, Chyfe came with him and helped.
Once everything was back in his pack, Kevik picked it up and raced for the perimeter of the yellow fog. His lungs were desperate to expel the old air, but Kevik kept them under control. When he at last broke into fresh air, he started gasping. Next to him, Chyfe hit the ground as he too, began drawing in deep breaths of fresh air.
Off to their right, Chad and Soth were dragging Seth out from the yellow fog. When Chad noticed Kevik looking their way, he said, “Seth couldn’t hold his breath.”
Kevik nodded then looked around the area. From the number of motionless forms lying in the yellow fog, he figured to have affected them all. Further examination of the area revealed that they were the only ones moving.
“How long will that last?” Chyfe asked, indicating the yellow fog.
“Not that long I’m afraid,” he replied.
“Damn,” cursed Chyfe. “Is there any way to prolong it?”
“Not with the spell I’m using, no,” replied Kevik.
By this time, Chad and Soth were bringing a recovering Seth over to join them. Now that he was out of the fog and taking in fresh air, the effects were beginning to dissipate.
“Your goo spell lasts for awhile,” suggested Chad. “Hit them with that.”
“True,” agreed Kevik. “But it would still only give us a little more than an hour before they would be free again.”
Soth laid his brother down on the ground and knelt next to him. “You never could hold your breath,” Soth said.
Seth tried to respond but the affects of Kevik’s spell still hadn’t worked its way through.
“As soon as Seth is recovered,” Chyfe began, “we need to go after Riyan and Bart.”
“They won’t kill them, will they?” asked Chad.
“Probably not until the Horde is opened,” replied Chyfe. “But after that…?”
For five minutes they waited until Seth was sufficiently recovered to be able to walk on his own. Hopefully by the time they caught up with the others, he’d have thrown off the last vestiges of Kevik’s spell. During the time they waited, Chyfe and Soth made forays into the fog enshrouded area to reclaim the rest of their equipment.