First Comes The One Who Wanders (51 page)

He walked through the unguarded opening cautiously. The city was magnificent and closer to the surface than he’d imagined. He supposed that was in deference to the trade they conducted with businessmen from throughout Preterlandis. Great columns held the vaulted ceiling. Houses and business establishments dotted the ground beneath them. Some of the buildings rose four or five stories into the air. Light sifted into the city through strategically placed shafts that led directly to the surface. The light was diffuse but adequate to navigate through the city. Mandrak moved deeper into the cavern then waited until his eyes adjusted to the dim light before he joined the diverse group of people who milled in the streets of Stillmont.

Mandrak watched as an elderly looking dwarf, protected by a metal helm, chain mail and a large battleaxe entered the temple. It had taken him weeks to get to this point. But here he was, watching the guardian of the Amulet of Ley show him where it was hidden. All he had to do was not be seen following him. Mandrak didn’t think that would be a problem. He’d had lots of practice avoiding detection. Looking around suspiciously, he checked the street for any sign of the messenger. He'd have sworn he’d seen the messenger here in Stillmont, but he'd never caught a good look at him. Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the feeling that he was being followed. Maybe he was getting too old for this type of work. In the past, he'd have known by now if he had a shadow. He wouldn’t still be looking over his shoulder like a woman.

Making his way across the street, he quietly picked the lock on the door the dwarf had used, and slipped inside the darkened room. The elderly dwarf had lit one of the torches and was moving to the front of the room. He located a certain spot in the front wall and pushed it. A portion of the wall moved and the dwarf slipped through. The door closed quickly behind him, too quickly for Mandrak to follow the dwarf through. All for the good, he thought, from his spot behind the column. He didn’t really want to confront that warrior. He’d wait for him to leave. He had what he wanted, the location of the hidden chamber.

He waited silently behind the pillar for half an hour and then another quarter of an hour. Where is that old dwarf, he thought, chaffing at the delay as he continued to wait for the guardian of the amulet to return.

Growing impatient, he moved closer to the spot where the dwarf had disappeared, dagger in hand. Pressing on the exact spot he’d seen the dwarf push, he felt the wall give way. He found himself in a man-made hallway carved out of stone. It led into the mountain farther than he could see. Fumbling in the dark along the walls, he followed the tunnel to where it led, his dagger still clutched in his free hand. It would have been better to wait until the dwarf had left, but he was tired of waiting. It seemed like he'd waited forever and every day he was here, Teran was free to strengthen his hold over the guild.

The tunnel seemed to go on for miles, no wonder that his dwarf hadn’t returned. Echoing in the corridor sent him scurrying to hide behind a line of shields that had been set in a line along the wall of the corridor. There wasn’t much chance he’d go undetected if the person approaching had a torch, but it was worth a try. It would be better if he could slip by unnoticed, rather than killing the keeper and raising the alarm sooner.

Luckily, the dwarf had left his torch behind and was making his way hurriedly in the dark. He passed by without looking right or left, muttering to himself. Mandrak let his breath out quietly and put his dagger away. He’d never thought he'd get away with that slipshod piece of stealth. His luck really had changed for the better.

Holding onto the wall, he felt his way down the passageway. After a painfully slow shuffle along the hall, he found himself in another empty room. The torch the dwarf had brought with him was still burning. Mandrak growled deep in his throat, letting his frustration have voice. He’d been sure he was going to walk into the room containing the amulet. Instead, he had another hidden door to find and who knew how many other empty chambers to traverse.

Perhaps he should have captured the old dwarf and forced the location of the amulet from him, he thought as he glanced around the room. It certainly would have made him feel better to torture the old man until he told him all his secrets. It had been weeks since he’d been able to indulge that particular pleasure.

Moving to a spot at the wall, he thrust his knife into the stone, leaving a mark. Then he started running his hands along the wall, looking for a hidden spring similar to the one in the first room.

He was three-quarters of the way around the room before he found the latch. Taking the torch and retrieving his dagger, he made good time down the second passageway. He wasn’t concerned about discovery at this point. The only person who’d come in this place in the last few days had just passed him in the hallway. It seemed the dwarves of Stillmont were relying on their secret city and secret rooms to protect the treasure of a king.

Reaching the third chamber, Mandrak was greeted by a welcoming sight. An altar, with a case made of crystal containing a golden chain with an amulet hanging from it. He almost laughed out loud with glee. This had been far too easy. The only thing that had truly been protecting the amulet was the total ignorance of it by almost everyone who might have an interest in it. He stood before the case staring at the symbol of a united Preterlandis for several minutes. It was golden, in the shape of a cross, each end representing one of the forces that formed Preterlandis. In the center was a circle, crossing each of the four legs, joining them. There was a single rune etched on each leg of the amulet. The amulet was large, large enough to cover a man’s chest.

Wrapping some cloth around his hand, Mandrak hit the case with all his might. His hand bounced off the case. He reared back and tried again. All he accomplished was to hurt his hand. Holding his hurt hand with his other, he spent a few minutes examining the display case. He decided he might have been hasty in deciding the dwarves hadn’t protected the amulet properly.

The case appeared to be made of one continuous piece of crystal. Mandrak knew that couldn’t be possible. They had to get the amulet inside somehow. He tapped on the case. It did appear to be a block of crystal, not panes of the clear rock. Mandrak ground his teeth. How did two soldiers, not crafters, manage to place an amulet in a block of crystal? More importantly, how did he, a scribe, get the necklace out?

Walking completely around the case, Mandrak saw the single rune etched on the glass. Standing in front of the rune, he reached his covered hand out and touched it. The block seemed to waiver then his hand began to sink into the rock. He reached the amulet and wrapped his hand around it. He paused, expecting something to happen. When nothing exploded and no one arrived with battleaxe in hand, he slowly started to pull the amulet through the liquid rock.

Mandrak still couldn’t believe how easy finding this amulet had been. Too easy, the thought tugged at his mind, but he chose to ignore it. He had his prize. He was days away from having everything he’d ever wanted and days away from not having to answer to Teran ever again.

Placing the amulet on his chest, he began to wrap cloth around it to keep it in place and hidden from view. The flash of light nearly blinded him and he could feel the amulet burning his flesh. Scrabbling for the cloth wrapped around him, screaming obscenities, Mandrak tore the amulet from his chest. Still screaming in pain, he fell to the floor.

A figure appeared out of the shadows, taking in the scene before him. He reached out and picked up the amulet with a cloth and slipped it into a velvet bag. Then stepping over Mandrak’s writhing body, he bent down. "Only a fool, or a scribe, would attempt to claim the Amulet of Ley by letting it rest against his heart, a fitting punishment for your arrogance, Mandrak." Mandrak howled again in anguish, while the figure slipped down the hallway, his blue robe trailing behind him.

The messenger watched the man in the blue robe emerge from the temple and disappear into the crowded street. Jakob was surprised to see him come from the temple. He’d not seen him enter and he’d been watching since Mandrak entered. Jakob wondered what the crafter had been doing in the temple, but it wasn’t his job to find out. His job was to follow the scribe and see what he was plotting now.

When Mandrak still hadn’t emerged an hour later, the messenger wondered if one of the other two men had killed him. He wouldn’t mind if they had. Given the slightest provocation, he’d kill the man himself. The Scribe had killed his brother Michael and his best friend Gabe, for sport. They hadn’t known anything that could have been of use to the scribes.

Jakob knew if Mandrak caught him following him, his fate would be the same as his brother and friend’s. He'd almost been spotted a couple of times, but he’d been quick enough and managed to disappear before he'd been discovered.

Jakob lit his pipe, a newly acquired habit, leaned back against the building across the street from the temple and waited, practicing his smoke rings while he watched.

The traffic on the street was beginning to thin, indicating that night was beginning to fall outside the cave. How the dwarves in Stillmont could tell was beyond him, but somehow they knew. To him time was meaningless here. He glanced over to the temple door. There was still no sign of the scribe. Worry settled on Jakob’s brow. What was he supposed to do now? Had Mandrak found another way out of the temple? Had one of the others killed him?

Knocking the ash from his pipe, he placed it carefully in his pocket. He'd come too far and wasted too much time following the scribe to lose him now. Glancing in both directions to ensure he wouldn’t be seen, he ran quickly across the street and stepped inside the temple.

He looked around, surprised, at the empty room. There was no sign of Mandrak. Jakob took one last look around, then slipped from the temple and made his way to the protectorate’s office.

It took him a few minutes to explain the situation to the satisfaction of the officer in charge, who was initially in favor of locking him up for not reporting the fact that Mandrak was in Stillmont sooner.

"You’d better go find Thorston," said the dwarf in charge to the younger one sitting near the door. The young apprentice rose slowly and sauntered out the door at the official’s order.

"You can sit over there," said the dwarf, pointing out a short, uncomfortable looking chair to Jakob. "You won’t be going anywhere for a while."

Jakob took a seat in the chair and tried to wait patiently, wondering what he’d gotten himself into by reporting Mandrak missing.

"This one here says someone has broken into the temple, Thorston," said the official, when the same dwarf whom Jakob had seen leaving the temple arrived. You’d better go check it out."

"I was just there, I didn’t see any sign of trouble," replied Thorston.

"He went in after you," volunteered Jakob.

"You just keep your mouth shut," the official told him, raising his axe menacingly. "We'll handle this."

Jakob raised his eyebrows, but remained silent. He didn’t need any more trouble than he already had. He especially didn’t need an axe in his head.

"No one has entered the temple in years," said Thorston, continuing to raise objections. "Why should we believe this young fellow?"

"Best just go check, Thorston."

"I can’t believe you called me away from a good dinner to go on a fool’s errand, but I'll go check it out. You’d better keep him where you can see him, because I'll want to have a go at him for interrupting my supper when I find there isn’t anything amiss."

Jakob was compelled to wait in the officer’s outer office while Thorston left the protectorate and headed off in the direction of the empty temple where Mandrak had last been seen.

Jakob wondered idly who Thorston was and if he was the only one allowed in the temple. What was so important in that building? He’d had a look inside. It seemed to him it was just an empty building. But Mandrak had found the temple highly interesting, and it appeared Gidron Frey had, as well.

Jakob scowled at the thought of the crafter he’d seen earlier. That Sky master was a traitor and had caused the death of many good men and crafters. What was he doing in Stillmont and why had he chosen the exact same moment as Mandrak to visit the empty temple?

Jakob waited impatiently under the watchful eye of the protectorate guard. It seemed like hours before Thorston returned. When he entered the office where Jakob was waiting, he was accompanied by two other men carrying the limp body of Mandrak between them.

"Is he alive?" asked Jakob, jumping to his feet.

"For now," growled the dwarf. "You’d better hope the council finds you didn’t have anything to do with this man, or you could end up in worse condition than he is in now."

Jakob looked at the dwarf in surprise. This was an unpleasant turn of events. "I haven’t had anything to do with this scribe. I was just sent to keep an eye on him," he protested.

"Let’s hope so, for your sake," said the elderly dwarf, indicating that he should be taken into custody along with Mandrak. The officer of the protectorate led the two men with Mandrak to a room with a heavy door and a cot then he sent one of them to find a healer. Taking Jakob to another room with a cot and a heavy door, he locked him inside.

Jakob heard Thorston explaining the situation to the officer through the door, though he couldn’t make out the particulars. Then he heard the outer door open and close.