Dragons and Destiny (36 page)

Robain and
Philip entered. They were surprised to see him at such an early
hour.

Philip jumped
to the conclusion that Elliot must be in danger.

“Trouble?” he
queried. “More assassins?”

“No,” Danal
replied, “just a warning to keep a close eye on him for the next
few days until the election excitement dies down. I have however,
received a private message for Captain Hallam,” which wasn’t a
direct lie although somewhat sparing with the truth.

“Certainly,
certainly,” said Philip. “I’ll go back to my interrupted meal.
Thanks for taking the trouble of coming across town to tell me.”
With a genial acknowledgement he was gone. This geniality was
feigned, Philip was wondering why Danal had arrived at the house,
something as it had been agreed, he would never do.

Danal turned a
grave face to Robain.

“Captain,” he
began, “I have been informed that you are a man of great discretion
and honour. Susa Julia has told my brother Niaill that she both
liked and trusted you when you met. You are also here, in
Stewarton.”

“Yes, we met
Niaill and Taraya at the Stronghold though it was only for a short
while. He looked after the lads when we were with Susa Julia. I had
not known until that moment that the Susa of the Vada keeps in
touch with the Lord Marshall of Murdoch. Philip Ross was most
surprised.”

“Susa Julia
likes to keep tabs on what the Larg are doing,” said Danal. “We
Avuzdel cannot ferret out every secret in the world. I believe
contact has been maintained between Susa and Lord Marshall for
centuries. The Larg have never forgotten how much they hate the
Lind, but I digress. You and I, Captain, have a job to do.”

“I have a job,”
smiled Robain, “with General Rovenels.”

“Ah yes, the
indomitable General Rovenels who will not be returning to his
duties for a month or two.”

“Wrong. He’s
due back the day after tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately
for the General, he met with an accident as he set out on his
return journey,” Danal informed Robain in an impassive voice. “It
is not serious, a broken leg and a few ribs. Apparently something
spooked his horse, a highly strung animal I am led to believe.”

“Something
spooked his horse? What kind of something? The man is one of the
best horseman I know.”

“What caused
the horse to rear and decant his rider on the ground is not known,”
answered Danal, keeping his face straight.

“I see,” said
Robain and Danal had a sneaking suspicion that he
did
see.
He wasn’t going to admit to having had a hand in it though.

“So what is
this job?”

“We have to
find something. Look, this is going to take some time, let’s settle
down in these chairs. Before I begin let me stress that no one is
to know about this or we’ll have a planet-wide panic on our
hands.”

A mystified
Robain took the indicated seat and prepared to listen.

Three bells
later, Robain was sitting in the chair and in a state of stunned
incredulity and shock.

“You’ve told me
everything?” he asked in a voice which was very calm under the
circumstances.

“You know all
that Asya and I know. Another message came in from Taraya not long
before I set out this morning. It was a long one. She’s exhausted.
That’s why I’m here on my own.”

“The Lai are
real? Robain sounded quite overcome. “They’ve kept themselves
hidden all this time!”

“Niaill and
Taraya have met them.”

Robain shook
his head in an attempt to clear whatever wits he had remaining.

“These Dglai
are on their way here?”

“It appears
so.”

“Timescale?”

“We think about
a hundred and sixty days.”

“That maximum
or minimum?”

“Maximum.”

“There’s a lot
about all this I don’t understand,” complained Robain but Danal
realised that his comment had only been uttered to cover the fact
that the Captain was thinking hard and wanted a few heartbeats to
think.

“Taraya sent to
Asya what we needed to know. Such telepathic communication takes
much energy. She and Niaill however, are on their way to us.”

“Okay, I can
relate to that. So, we have to find a box of something called
print-outs hidden under the floor of the Technical Guildhouse and
in these print-outs is the where-for-all by which we can learn how
to destroy the Dglai?”

“That’s how I
understand it,” confirmed Danal.

“How are we
going to manage that without all and sundry seeing us? Quite
impossible. You can’t ask Master Annert to vacate his premises
without either giving him an explanation. He must have over fifty
technicians working there.”

“Tomorrow is
not a work day,” Danal observed. “We could start tonight after the
technicians have gone home.”

“You and I
can’t do it alone,” Robain mused, “who else can we bring in?”

“They must be
people you can trust,” warned Danal.

“Let me think.
Got it. Master Annert is a must, we will need his help. It is his
Guild. We’ll have to tell him at least some of it, I recommend the
lot.”

“Agreed. Where
can we find him?”

“Guildhouse. He
has private quarters at the back. We’ll speak to him this evening.
Four of us would be a good number. I think we should also include
Tala, remember, the girl you met the other night? She’s one of his
Journeymen as well as being the older sister of my future
wife.”

“I agree to
that too,” said Danal, “but no more.”

“Fine, now you
know where this metal box is buried?”

“A lindlength
from the fireplace in the hall of the Guildhouse.”

“Then it
shouldn’t be to difficult. You go get the picks and shovels and
meet me outside the Guildhouse at Eleventh Bell.”

“We go
tonight?”

“Why wait? I’ll
bring Tala along and try to explain our absence to Matt, Tala and
their guests.” Robain was already opening the library door.

Robain was
thinking hard.
It’s like some kind of surreal dream. The Lai.
Here all this time and we didn’t even guess!

* * * * *

Robain, Tala
and Danal

Not long before
Eleventh Bell, two cloaked figures emerged from the side door of
the Urquhart house and made their way down the hill. At the bottom,
they turned and began a steady walk towards the Guildhouse where
Danal was waiting.

Asya was not
there. Danal informed Robain that she was still resting after
another extensive telepathic conversation. He greeted Tala with a
smiling nod.

“You have the
picks and shovels?” asked Robain.

“One of each,”
he replied, “I didn’t want to be seen carrying more than that
around the streets, anyway, they’re all that I could find.”

“Find?” queried
Robain, who was beginning to know something about Danal’s character
by this time.

“Steal if you
want to get nippy about it.”

“I was just
wondering if there was any end to your talents?”

“We of the
Avuzdel have many,” was Danal’s bland response.

“What’s the
Avuzdel?” asked a mystified Tala.

Master Annert
was having a well earned rest by the fire in his salon, sipping a
glass of sweet white wine. He was surprised when his elderly maid
knocked on the door and announced that he had visitors.

“At this
bell?”

“Three of them,
two men and Journeywoman Tala. I’ve put them in the wee room beside
the outside sir.” She obviously thought that cold and dank room was
the best place for them, disturbing her Master like this.

“Bring them in
here Miggi,” he told her, “did they say what they wanted?”

“No sir, but
Miss Tala, she looks a bit upset, agitated-like,” she answered. The
old maid and Tala were good friends.

“Better bring
in some kala,” he said. “It’s a miserable night and they’ll be wet
and cold.”

“They’re
dripping wet all over my polished floor,” she complained as she
closed the door and went to do his bidding.

Master Annert
wondered what had happened to make Miggi describe the normally
unflappable Tala as ‘agitated’.

A few moments
later Tala led Robain and Danal into the salon.

“Guildmaster
Annert,” said Robain as he led the other two into the salon, “good
of you to see us sir.”

“It is late,”
admitted Annert, “but you and Tala wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t
important.” He turned an interested glance at his third
visitor.

“This is Vadeln
Danal,” Robain made the introduction. “Guildmaster Annert de
Gras.”

“Please to meet
you Guildmaster,” Danal greeted the older man with a short bow.
“And this is important, so important that nothing would have
stopped us getting here tonight.”

“A matter of
life or death?” said Annert with mock seriousness.

“Yes,” answered
Danal in a voice so devoid of emotion that Annert felt a chill hit
his old veins. “The little matter of life and death for us
all.”

“How may I
help?”

Five bells
later, four sweaty, grimy people gazed at each other over what had
been the immaculate paved floor in the Guildhouse Hall.

They had
located the fireplace without any trouble, a large and incredibly
ornate affair at the end furthest from the doors. Danal had drawn a
semi-circle in chalk a lindlengh from it and they had set to work.
As they drew a blank along one bit they filled in the mud and
foundations and started on the next.

It was
backbreaking work, especially for Annert who insisted on doing his
share.

With strained
faces they had kept going through the evening and into the night.
As Danal and Tala started prising the slabs up in the final
section, Annert, wiping his forehead with a none too clean kerchief
asked the question that no one else had yet dared voice, “what if
its not here?”

“It has to be,”
answered the weary Robain. “The records were very specific, were
they not Danal… Danal?”

Danal paused
for a moment as Tala got going again with her shovel, spading up
the mud and rubble the vadeln had dislodged with the pick.

“The records,
how specific were they?”

“Very,”
insisted Danal, “but I’ll check.” His face took on that look that
meant he was communing with Asya. Robain and Annert waited and Tala
continued to shovel.

Danal’s eyes
came back into focus.

“Asya had
checked with Taraya and Niaill who say it definitely says the
Technician’s Guildhouse Hall, one lindlength from the fireplace
about a metre down.”

“A metre,
what’s that?” asked Robain.

“Three feet
give or take,” Annert answered, “and we’ve gone deeper than that. A
metal box , even if it had rusted away - we’d see the signs of
it.”

“What’s on the
other side of the fireplace?” asked Robain.

“Outside wall,”
Annert answered. “Cobbled street.”

“The main
street,” added Tala, pausing to get her breath for a moment,
resting her arms on the shovel.

“We can’t go
digging up the street,” said Danal, “people would talk.”

“Might have
to,” was Annert’s dismal prognosis.

“You tired?”
Danal asked Tala then and taking pity on her, took the shovel.

Relieved, Tala
mouthed a thank you and stepped back. She had never ached so much
her entire life.

She began to
wander round the hall, admiring for the umpteenth time the wooden
panelling and the decorated borders depicting aspects of the
guild’s work. She came to the fireplace where she stood staring at
it. It was a wonderful creation, standing above head height and
made of the same wood as the wall panels.

“The artisan
who had made this was a genius,” she announced to no one in
particular. Her fingers traced over some of the fine carvings then
stopped. There, there it was, right in the middle, above the
grate.

Tala blinked
and looked closer.

“What are the
numbers carved above the fireplace?” she asked aloud.

“The date when
the building was built I suppose,” Robain answered, “the fireplace
in our Mess at Settlement is much the same.”

Tala traced out
the carving with her finger and took a step back. “But it says
AL187.”

“So what?”

“But don’t you
see? It’s the
wrong
date. Guildmaster Knott couldn’t have
buried the information here because this Guildhouse wasn’t built
then. We’ve been looking in the
wrong
place. We’ve got to
find the hall and the fireplace of the Guildhouse that existed in
Tara and Kolyei’s time, not this time.”

Tala turned
towards the Guildmaster. “Master Annert, do you know where that
was?”

“The same date
is above the door too,” he confessed, “I should have realised.”

“Perhaps this
one was built on top of the first one?” suggested Danal.

Master Annert
shook his head. “No, this part of town wasn’t built during the
early years. Stewarton was much smaller then. The Old Guildhouse
would have been situated much closer to the Lake.”

“On the
waterfront?” asked Danal, his heart sinking when he thought about
the area. There would be little chance to find out where the old
Guildhouse had been if this was the case.

“No,” answered
Annert. “I’ve got some recollection that the commercial and
industrial part of old Stewarton was up the hill a ways, where the
larger houses are now.”

“Of course,”
interrupted Tala, “the River Stasya. It flows into the lake.
Perfect for mill wheels, water power, which is all they had at the
time. It was only later that we learned to capture
hydro-electricity. We have to find out where the old House used to
be.”

“We can look
through the guild records,” suggested Master Annert. “We keep them
in the next room.”

Danal nodded.
“It’s all we can do but tomorrow. We’re all tired and when a person
is tired he or she misses what might be important. I vote we all go
get some sleep and start fresh in the morning.”