Read Quest's End: The Broken Key #3 Online
Authors: Brian S. Pratt
Tags: #action, #adult, #adventure, #ancient, #brian s pratt, #epic, #fantasy, #magic, #playing, #role, #rpg, #ruins, #series, #spell, #teen, #the broken key, #the morcyth saga, #troll, #young
He kept to the right wall and felt along its length as he sought a way out. It was slower than all out swimming, but at the same time he didn’t want to miss a possible exit.
Foot by foot he continued. In the back of his mind was the knowledge that at any time the four guards who had passed him earlier would be returning. He needed to find the way out and fast.
It was during a short pause as he gave his arms a brief break that he noticed the faintest freshening of the air. He had grown so used to the smell of the place that the influx of fresh air was made all the more noticeable. As he tried to determine its source, he detected a faint breeze.
Yes! he silently exclaimed. Where there was a breeze, there was a way out! It seemed to be coming from above him. That subdued his elation somewhat. The breeze could very well be coming down one of the jakes-shafts. But then, it wouldn’t be fresh now would it? If only he had some light so he could be sure.
Raising his hand high, he tried to determine exactly where the breeze was originating from. A moment later he concluded that it was coming down the side of the wall above him. The opening through which it was blowing must be on this side of the waterway. He quickly made the decision that he had to discover if it was a possible way out. Reaching his hand up the wall as far as he could, he failed to encounter any opening that could be the source of the breeze. Wherever it was, it was too far above his head to effectively reach. He quickly realized he’d have to climb to reach it.
From the time he’d spent moving along the waterway, he knew the walls were riddled with cracks both large and small. And the wall before him was no exception. Moving his hand along the wall’s surface, he encountered several cracks which would suffice. Deciding to go for it, he glanced back down the waterway in the direction from which the guards would be returning. Their lantern’s light was not visible. With any luck they’ll not return any time soon.
Reaching out, he took hold of the first crack and then moved the toe of his boot into another. Pulling his upper torso out of the water, he found another toehold for his other foot. Then he reached up and found another crack, pulling himself still further from the water.
The breeze was more discernible now, a good indication it wasn’t too far above him. Once he had a good firm handhold, he would move one of his feet to find a secure toehold. Step by step, he inched his way up the wall.
Then all of a sudden, his hand touched the rocky ceiling above him. The breeze was blowing swifter now, and a moment’s search found its source, a jagged hole in the ceiling roughly two feet by three. It was two feet out from the wall and wide enough for him to pass through, but just barely.
While he held himself onto the wall with one hand, he felt around the inner sides of the opening with the other. There was water dripping through and in places he encountered patches of algae. Despite the slickness of the algae, the interior was uneven enough to allow him to attain a secure handhold and pull himself into it. He glanced back toward where the guards had gone and could now see a dim light being reflected off the walls of the channel. They were returning.
He had no way of knowing if the hole would continue to be large enough for him to pass. But as the guard’s light steadily drew closer, he didn’t have many other options. Deciding to take the chance, he reached out to the opening and found a good handhold. Trusting that it would hold, he quickly transferred his other hand to the handhold the first one held.
The transfer of weight caused his feet to lose their grip with the wall, and just as his second hand grasped the opening, his feet fell away from the wall and swung freely below him. Supported only by his arms, he held there for a moment before reaching for another handhold. While he held on with his right hand, he let go with his left and quickly hunted the sides of the cavity for another.
Finally finding one a foot higher than the other, he grasped it and made sure it would hold before reaching for a third. Down below, the water flowed along uncaring about his plight, and the light from the approaching guards was growing brighter by the second. He still couldn’t actually see the boat as it was still hidden by a curve in the waterway. But by the brightness being reflected off the walls, it couldn’t be too far away.
Once he had a secure hold with his left hand, he pulled himself up half a foot then held there as his right hand reached up to find another handhold. When he had one, he started pulling himself up farther and…
Crack!
…the rock beneath his right hand suddenly gave out with a crack as a chunk fell away. As the weight of his body was suddenly and unexpectedly placed on his left hand, he almost lost his grip. By a narrow margin he was able to retain his grip long enough for his right hand to again find a purchase. A second later, a loud splash echoed in the waterway as the chunk of rock hit the water below.
“Damn!” Bart cursed. A quick glance back down the waterway couldn’t reveal if the guards had heard or not. Once his shaking nerves quieted, he resumed pulling himself up into the crevice.
The air blowing past him produced shivers as it cooled his wet clothes. Handhold by handhold, he crept his way further into the recess until his feet passed through the opening and were able to take some of the pressure off his aching arms. Once his feet were securely in place, he relaxed his arms as much as he dared to give them a break.
Below, the waterway was growing brighter as the guards came ever closer. Bart held still as the voices of the guards began to be heard. Looking through the opening below, he saw the prow of the boat appear. His heart began to race as he realized that one look up by any of them and it was over. But fortune was with him. So engrossed were they in their conversation about the virtue of a certain chambermaid, that none bothered looking up.
He watched the boat pass as two of the guards rowed against the current. Before the boat had completely passed by, he took advantage of the guard’s light to inspect the upper recesses of the crevice. It looked as if it continued upward for some distance. Then the light was gone when the boat moved beyond the mouth of the opening.
Bart waited for a minute or two to give his arms a break. Then when he was ready, he reached up for another handhold and continued his climb.
“We don’t even know where he is!” insisted Chyfe, and not for the first time. He stood with his back to the door, blocking Riyan from running headlong to the castle in search of Bart.
Riyan had his hand on the hilt of his sword. For a brief moment he thought to pull it, but quickly came to his senses. He pointed to Kevik and said, “We know from what Kevik said that he’s underneath the castle in some sort of sewer.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Chyfe. “And with one end barred, the other end who knows where, how are we going to get to him?” He stood his ground and refused to budge.
Soth came up behind Riyan and laid his hand on his shoulder. “I know how you feel,” he said. “But they know he’s there and will be on the lookout for others. If we show up, they’ll likely as not have us arrested and locked up for general measures.”
“But…” argued Riyan. He knew they were right, but Bart was his friend and in danger. How could he cool his heels in this room while Bart faced such danger alone?
“Soth and I could go down and see what we can do,” offered Seth. When Riyan turned toward him he added, “Alone, we can blend in with the locals.”
Riyan shook his head. “No. If Bart should communicate with Kevik again, we may need to move and move fast. It would be best if you were with us.”
Chad glanced to his friend. “I say we go down together to see what’s going on,” he stated. When the others turned toward him, he added, “That way should he communicate again, we would be in a better position to respond quickly.”
“I agree,” Riyan said.
Chyfe looked at the two friends and could see reason beginning to return. “Alright,” he agreed. “But first we need to make a stop.”
Ten minutes later, they were moving along the street at a brisk pace, but not so fast as to generate attention. Chyfe and Chad carried bolts of cheap, inexpensive cloth they just purchased a few minutes ago from a chandler’s shop near the inn.
“Carrying these,” Chyfe had explained, “who would think we were up to no good?”
“You have a point,” agreed Riyan. The delay acquiring the purchases had grated on him, but he understood the wisdom of Chyfe’s plan. Now to any who saw them, they were simply out for a shopping spree.
Glancing to Kevik he asked, “Anything?”
Kevik shook his head. “Not yet,” he replied.
The street along which they moved led toward the gates of the castle area. Their first intention was to see if they could discover what was going on beyond the gates. But when they arrived, they found them closed with a large crowd milling before them.
“Heard it was an assassin come to kill Lord Kueryn,” one woman was saying to another.
“That’s not what I heard,” the second woman replied. “I heard they had uncovered a northern spy.”
“Whatever the reason,” the first lady said, “I wish they’d open the gates so I could…”
As they worked their way closer to the gates, other snippets of conversation came their way. Most were in agreement about an assassin, though a few held to the belief it was a spy.
“At least we know he hasn’t been captured yet,” commented Chyfe.
“What makes you say that?” asked Chad.
Chyfe gestured to the gates. “If he had been captured, the gates would be open,” he explained.
“That’s good to know,” said Riyan. Pulling Seth closer, he nodded to a squad of guards standing before the gates. “Go over and see what they know.”
“Alright,” he replied before heading over.
Riyan and the others came to a stop some distance away while waiting for Seth’s return. Conversations around them begun to die out as the locals took notice of their pale skin.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” mumbled Chyfe. Still holding the package of cloth, he glanced around at the stares being directed their way. “So,” he asked a nearby couple, “what’s going on?”
The man’s eyes narrowed as he turned his attention toward Chyfe. For a brief moment Chyfe wasn’t sure if he planned to respond or not. Then the man said, “Trouble in the castle.”
“Oh?” asked Chad. Coming to stand beside Chyfe, he asked, “Nothing serious I hope?” He made sure that the bolt of cloth he held was in clear view of the couple.
The lady holding the man’s arm shook her head. “It doesn’t look like it,” she replied. “Seems they caught an assassin before he had a chance to strike.”
“Well that is good news,” Chyfe said, feigning relief.
“I heard someone say the assassin was going after Lord Kueryn,” Soth stated.
“That’s what they say,” the man affirmed. He visibly relaxed once Soth joined the conversation.
“We’re from up north,” he told the man. “My brother and I are here to inquire about trade contracts for the coming spring.” The explanation relaxed the man even further. “Who is Lord Kueryn? This is the first we’ve been to your fair city and I don’t recall ever hearing the name before.”
“That’s his real name,” the lady explained. “Mostly he’s known as the River Man.”
Soth nodded. “Now that’s a name I’ve heard,” he said with a grin. “Why is he called the River Man if you don’t mind my asking?”
The man sighed in resignation as his wife explained. “Being the second son in the royal house, it was never thought he would one day be Warlord of the Orack Tribe. From the stories that have been told, he was a wild one in his youth. And since his older brother would become Warlord, he was allowed to do pretty much as he wished. His one love was being on the river.”
“And that’s why he’s called the River Man?” inquired Soth.
“The name didn’t come about until his eighteenth year,” she stated. “You see, that was when he ran the Wrath of Hennon.”
“Wrath of Hennon?” asked Chyfe.
She nodded and pointed in the general direction of the river flowing outside the city walls. “The Cariz River which flows to the south from the lake enters a deep canyon far to the south. There it is joined by two other rivers, the Fean and the Ungen. They say that during the spring rains, it is death to ride the waters.”
“I take it he did?” Soth asked.
The woman nodded. “Yes, in the spring of his eighteenth year. The fact that he survived gave rise to the belief that water cannot kill him. And thus, he’s called the River Man.”
“Interesting story,” Soth said. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“You’re welcome young man,” she said.
About that time, Seth returned from speaking with the guards. They moved away from the couple and gathered together. “They don’t know anything,” he explained to the others.
Riyan turned toward the wall and gazed at its imposing height while he contemplated what they should do. He finally came to realize there was nothing they could do until they discovered Bart’s exact location. Off to the side of the plaza was one of the eateries common to the city. He suggested to the others they move there and wait in order to avoid arousing suspicion. As they headed to the eatery, Riyan couldn’t help but worry for the fate of his friend.
The crevice was growing narrower the further he went. Also, water continued to be a nuisance as it trickled down the sides making hand and footholds treacherous. From time to time his feet would slip on a patch of algae and it would take a second or two for him to find a secure placement before continuing.
He had long since ceased debating the folly of this venture. What had he been thinking? But he was still loose, and as long as that situation continued, there was a chance he could get out of it.
Bart’s thoughts kept returning to the magic user with the ball of purplish light upon his palm. Whatever that ball of light was, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it had led them to him. But how? He was sure he hadn’t alerted anyone to his presence as he passed through the hallways. He had been most careful about such things.
How far had he climbed so far? In the absolute darkness surrounding him, he couldn’t be sure. Bracing his feet in cracks along the sides of the crevice, he paused a moment to give his aching arms a break. Between swimming against the current and now the climbing, they were beginning to feel it.