“My lord!” a voice cried, snapping Lord Kueryn out of a deep sleep. He recognized it as his magic user Geffen’s. The urgency in Geffen’s voice brought him fully awake.
“Enter,” he said as he came to a sitting position on the edge of his cot.
The tent flap was thrown open and Geffen came in with lords Hurrin and Geop, both long time allies in his rise to Warlord. “My lord,” he said, “the sentries were found dead.”
“What?” exclaimed Lord Kueryn. Immediately, his eyes darted to where he had set the chest containing the golden item that he was certain was somehow related to the King. Anger suffused him and rage threatened to snatch his reason. “It’s gone!” he shouted. Coming to his feet, he turned eyes red with fury toward the two lords.
They didn’t need him to explain what he was talking about. All three saw that the chest was no longer within his tent. “But…” began Lord Geop when he was cut off by Lord Kueryn.
“But what?” he demanded. “Are my men so inept, that they allowed someone to enter my tent? While I was sleeping?” The thought that he could have been killed was not lost on them.
Lord Hurrin turned toward Geffen. “They must have used magic,” he stated.
“Wards were in place to detect such,” countered Geffen. “None were triggered.”
Pushing his way through the others, Lord Kueryn exited the tent. Outside, the mood was somber and guarded. His men couldn’t have avoided overhearing the heated exchange that took place within the tent. None dared meet their lord’s eyes.
Not far from where he stood, two bodies lay near one of the campfires. To his shock, one was Jien, a tracker that was renowned for his skills in the forest. For him to be killed was almost beyond belief. One of his men knelt next to the two bodies. Bent over Jien, he had his shirt open and was examining a wound. He heard his lord’s approach and glanced back over his shoulder. “My lord,” he said then pointed to an area on Jien’s left shoulder that was blackened, “he was struck by a poisoned dart.” Indicating the man lying next to him, he added. “As was he.”
“A dart?” asked Geffen. Without thinking, his hand went to the sight of where he too had been struck by a dart.
The man nodded.
“Search the area!” commanded Lord Geop. “He couldn’t have gone far.”
“I want the ones responsible for this found and brought to me,” Lord Kueryn exclaimed. As his men erupted into a flurry of activity, he turned back to Geffen. “Can you find them?” he asked.
Reaching into his robes, Geffen produced the dart that had struck him back in Hylith. “If this is the work of the same man,” he replied, “I can find him.” Then casting a spell, the dart rotated in his hand and pointed back toward the southeast. Glancing at his lord, he nodded.
Before Lord Kueryn could order the pursuit, Lord Hurrin came before him and said, “We dare not follow. The attack is soon to be underway and we would never be able to make it through on the eastern side of the mountains. All of Byrdlon will rally to their defense!” Lord Kueryn’s anger radiated like a palpable presence. “We must adhere to the plan my lord.” Praying that reason would win out, Lord Hurrin held his ground.
Many years ago when Lord Kueryn was on the verge of manhood, he had braved the Wrath of Hennon at the height of its fury. He never talked of the experience, other than that he had barely made it through alive.
His small canoe had been smashed to pieces against the rocks and his head had been swept into another, rendering him unconscious. He awoke sometime later in the shallows on the riverbank. If he hadn’t been lying on his back, he surely would have drowned.
Not far from where he had been washed ashore sat a cave. Night was falling and he took shelter there until the following morning when he would return home. It was after he had a fire going that he noticed its light was being reflected by something in the back of the cave. Intrigued, he went and discovered that what had reflected the light, was a single, copper coin. Half buried in dirt, it bore the symbol of the King. Further searching uncovered a total of a dozen of the coins, five copper and seven silver.
It wasn’t until later when he had been named Warlord of the Orack Tribe that he had the wherewithal to return to the cave and do some serious excavation. That was when they discovered the ancient, underground catacomb.
Several items of note had been found, most notably the golden key segment. Though he didn’t know what it was, he knew it was a significant find. The removal of the treasures contained within the catacomb proceeded at a steady pace for awhile.
Then, another room was unearthed that shed light on the golden object. In the room was a mural depicting men standing in front of a sigil inscribed wall. A man in robes stood just before the wall and held forth a golden torc from which emanated beams of light. When the key segment was compared to the torc in the mural, it was concluded that it was indeed part of it.
That’s when the major portion of the excavation began. Everything but the bones of the dead was to be removed and gone through in the hopes of finding the rest of the torc depicted in the mural.
Then not too long ago, rumors began to reach Lord Kueryn’s ear that a major cache of coins had been found. A shepherd and a miller’s son had somehow discovered a large quantity of the King’s coins. Other rumors of the shepherd and miller came saying that they had located the King’s Horde.
It didn’t take long before he came to believe that the sigil inscribed wall depicted in the mural was the entrance to the long lost King’s Horde. Riders were dispatched into Byrdlon to discover if what he had heard was true. None came back with anything definite, just a reiteration of the rumors he already knew.
Now, someone had come and taken the segment of the torc. In his heart he knew it could only be the shepherd and the miller’s son. One piece of information one of the riders brought back inferred that they had the help of a thief and an inexperienced magic user. Their thief must have been the one to infiltrate his camp and make off with it.
Rage threatened to take his reason as he thought again of the theft. Only by a sheer force of will did he master it and not give in to the need for immediate violence. Turning to Lord Hurrin, he nodded. “Yes, continue as we have.”
From the south, a rider came racing toward the camp. Lord Kueryn turned and saw the rider bearing the chest that had been taken. “You found them?” he demanded. Coming forward, he met the rider and took possession of the chest. It was still closed.
“No my lord,” the rider replied as Lord Kueryn removed a key and placed it in the chest’s lock. “Their camp was found deserted a mile to the south.”
Turning the key, he unlocked the chest and opened it. The golden key segment was not within. Rage again enveloped him and he took it out on the chest, smashing it to the ground.
“Lord Hurrin,” the River Man said as he turned to his long time ally. “Send riders after them. I want to know where they go and with whom they speak.”
“As you wish,” Lord Hurrin replied. Soon, four riders were heading south in pursuit. “I believe these are the same people who fled Hylith, and caused so much damage in Tryn.”
Lord Kueryn turned a glaring eye on Lord Hurrin. “You don’t have to tell me that which I already know,” he said. “I want everyone mounted. The sooner we’re at the lake, the sooner we’ll be through the mountains.”
Then, he vowed to himself, we shall find those who stole this and extract our revenge. But not until they divulge all they know about the King’s Horde!
As soon as they had returned from stealing the key segment, Bart opened the chest and removed the key. Riyan was all for reuniting the four segments right then and there but Kevik advised against it.
“We are not certain what effect such an action will have,” he replied. “And with a magic user not more than a mile away…”