“And it is this path that you wish to tell us about?” Bregnest questioned.
“Forty pieces of gold seems a small price to pay for the path to the dragon’s hoard,” replied Eric.
“You test my patience,” said Bregnest coldly. “You ask for payment before the goods are seen.”
“Not at all,” replied Eric. “I simply wish a fair price for showing you the way to great wealth.”
“The way to wealth is a small matter when its protector is so great,” answered Bregnest. “You may show us a path that leads to our doom, and that is of no value at all.”
“Perhaps doom is all there is,” Eric said calmly. “However, I will not ask for payment unless you find success.”
“Very well then,” said Bregnest, his tone softening slightly. “If your path leads us to success, we will each give you fifty times the price we pay for your story.”
“A small amount from such a hoard,” complained Eric.
“You may know the path, but we will have to face the evil at its end,” replied Bregnest. “Fifty times five from each of us is all I will promise.”
“Perhaps, if you find success, you will feel more generous,” Eric offered.
“I have no doubt we will,” Bregnest agreed.
“This other path then,” Eric continued. “This other path that lead my ancestor to safety was hidden far beneath the castle, where few had ever gone. It was only by chance my ancestor knew of it at all, but that is another story for another time.
“In the deepest part of the castle there was a great hall and at the end of this hall was a spring. The spring was large, creating a fair-sized stream of water. A channel was cut for the water to flow in so the hall and the castle above would not be flooded. At the end of this channel, a tunnel emptied the water out of the mountain. The tunnel leads from the great hall to the meadows on the southern side of the city. There was at one time a stone path cut into one side of the tunnel so the ancient kings could go to the open fields beyond the city unseen.”
“If there was a spring beneath the castle, the dragon would have blocked it up years ago,” interrupted Bregnest. “And failing that, he would have blocked the tunnel.”
“The men of Varlo once tried to block the spring and failed,” said Eric. “And if the dragon blocked the tunnel, the castle would even now be flooded. However, when my great-grandfather last saw the city—a little more than a hundred years ago—the tunnel was not blocked.”
“Much can change in a hundred years,” said Bregnest in a thoughtful voice. “Why did your ancestor return to Varlo?”
“He hoped to win the city back,” answered Eric with a sad look on his face. “He thought he could drive the dragon out and restore life to the land of his fathers.”
“A secret entrance once used is no longer a secret,” said Bregnest grimly.
“Perhaps not, but it is still better than the front gate,” Eric answered. “The opening to the tunnel is not as easy to access as it once was, that much I know. When my great-grandfather returned to Techen, he told us what he’d seen. The dragon had piled great rocks over the tunnel’s mouth—not to block the water, but to block anyone trying to enter. The water flows freely out from under the rocks, but if a man wanted to enter the tunnel, he would have to swim under the rocks, against the current of the water.”
“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.”