The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde (19 page)

Riyan relaxed at his words. He had been afraid his work would be found lacking. “I do try to do my best for you,” he said.

The old man tapped the pile of transcribed parchment. “I can see that.” Riyan came around to the other side of the table so Stryntner wouldn’t have to keep his head turned in order to talk to him. “I only have several more pages to go before I’ll be done with the tome,” he explained.

Stryntner nodded and got up from the chair. He indicated for Riyan to take his place.

“Best be getting on with it then,” he said.

He was about to walk away from the table when Riyan asked, “Did you hear the news?”

The old Keeper stopped and glanced back at Riyan questioningly.

“They say the Moran Tribes destroyed some town called Sandlun down on the border,” he explained.

“Sounds like something they would do,” he replied. Then he resumed his trek through the Archives to the small room where he lives in the back. Riyan kind of expected a bit more of a reaction to news like that. He just shrugged and accounted it to the fact the old man was a bit peculiar.

It took him only a minute or two to rearrange everything on the table back to the way he’d grown to like it. Stryntner had moved things around some while he had been seated there.

With the old man in the back there was little time for him to search. He got right down to work and after he had completed a page, could hear snores emanating from Stryntner’s room.

He tried to look through the free standing bookshelves but couldn’t quite see into the room. “Keeper?” he asked in a low voice. There was silence for a second before another round of snoring commenced.

Riyan immediately put his quill in the inkwell and quickly made his way to the door of Stryntner’s room. He found the old man lying on his bed, eyes closed, and producing snores which should only come from a man twice his size.

The old man had fallen asleep before and usually remained that way until Riyan left.

He should have enough time to poke around. He went to one of the few remaining stacks of tomes he had yet to look through. On the way, the edge of the door that was blocked by the bookshelf caught his eye.

He continued past the tomes he had been heading for and walked over to the partially blocked door. Once he stood before it, he waited until he heard another snore come from the back room. Sure that Stryntner was still asleep, he tried the handle and found it locked. He wondered if he could pick it and pulled forth his dagger. Then just as Bart had instructed him back in the Ruins of Algoth, he inserted the point and tried to find the mechanism.

It didn’t take him long to realize this lock was far different than the one he picked to free Bart and Chad. He gave it another few minutes before giving up in futility. After replacing his knife back in its scabbard, he turned his attention to the bookshelf obstructing the doorway.

Just as all the others in the Archives, it was solid wood and incredibly heavy. He waited for another snore before putting his shoulder against it and trying to shove it aside a little. It wouldn’t budge. Riyan feared to try any harder, he might inadvertently dislodge the tomes and scroll stacked on its shelves. The sound of them striking the floor would assuredly awaken the old man in the back, then he would have to explain what he was doing.

He came to the realization that if he wanted to get through that door he would have to have Bart and Chad here to help him. Bart was sure to be able to pick the lock in the door.

“Riyan!”

Chad’s voice came to him from out in the hallway. He froze where he was and listened for half a second. When he didn’t hear any more snores, he quickly moved back to his desk. About the time he reached it, Chad appeared in the doorway.

When Chad made to enter the room Riyan said, “Don’t come in.” He glanced back to Stryntner’s room. Not seeing the old man, he walked over to the doorway. “I don’t know if I am allowed to let anyone in or not.”

Chad shrugged, “That’s alright. You have a visitor down in the foyer.”

“I do?” he asked surprised. “Who is it?”

“It’s that merchant Raestin who you had deliver that package to your mother,” he explained. “He has something for you from her.”

An excitement came over him and his eyes lit up. “Thanks for telling me,” he said.

He started back into the room then stopped, “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” Chad said. He cast another glance around at the inside of the Archives then returned back down to the foyer.

Riyan hurried back to the table. He capped the inkwell and cleaned the quill before leaving the Archives. Just before he passed through the door and into the hallway, he heard another of Stryntner’s snores coming from the back room. Riyan shut the door and hurried down to the foyer.

The foyer was still packed with people, everyone talking about the recent development to the south. He paused at the doorway until he saw Chad flag him down with a wave. The merchant Raestin was standing next to him. Riyan hurried over.

“Everyone seems to be abuzz with excitement,” Raestin said.

“Sandlun was sacked by the Moran Tribes,” Riyan replied.

The merchant nodded. “Yes, so your friend here has been telling me,” he said. “Sad thing, that.” He held out to him a small piece of paper, rolled and secured with a ribbon.

The emotion that welled up from within at the sight of one of his mother’s ribbons around the paper caught him off guard. He was barely able to squelch the tear that started to form. He reached out and took the letter. “Thank you,” he said.

Raestin smiled at him. “Actually I should be the one to thank you,” he replied.

“Oh?” asked Riyan. He desperately wanted to open the letter and see what his mother had written, but he wished to do so in the relative privacy of the barrack.

“Yes, if it wasn’t for you I never would have met your mother,” he explained.

That caught Riyan off guard.

“You see I’m a widower,” he began. “It’s been many years since my wife passed away, and truth to tell, I had given up on ever finding another woman who engaged my interest as she had.” He glanced to Riyan to see how he was taking it but Riyan’s face was unreadable.

“Why don’t we have a seat?” said Chad. “There seems to be things you two need to talk about.”

“Indeed there is,” said Riyan.

Chad found them a small table with four chairs off to one side. Riyan cast glances at the merchant all the while they went and took their seats.

“I know this might seem a bit out of the ordinary,” Raestin said. “But I would like to ask your permission to visit your mother from time to time.” He was obviously nervous about the whole thing, and that did much to put Riyan at ease. “Whenever business brings me to the area that is.”

Riyan didn’t answer right away. He looked at the man before him, really looked at him for the first time. Raestin had the look of an honest man, good natured and such.

Riyan’s first instinct was to tell him to leave his mother alone. But then he started thinking about it from his mother’s point of view. She was alone now. Husband dead, son off on his own. Who did she have that she could count on? Other than a few of the people who lived in Quillim?

He sighed and said, “As long as you are good and honorable to her, I will have no objections.”

Raestin smiled at him. “She said you would say that,” he told him.

“You already talked about it with her?” he asked.

“Of course,” he replied. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I hadn’t? One must respect a lady’s feelings about such things, especially at our age.”

“I see,” Riyan said.

“Oh, as long as your mother and I will be spending time together,” he said, “you won’t have to pay for any letters or packages I deliver for you.” At that the merchant stood up. “I’m afraid I have business to attend to. I’ll be around for another two days before my caravan heads north once again.”

“Could you stop back by tomorrow night?” Riyan asked. “I’ll have another letter for you to deliver.”

“Not a problem,” Raestin said with a nod. He held out his hand for Riyan to shake.

Riyan hesitated only a moment before taking it. After that Raestin made for the door and was gone.

“So,” said Chad, “when do you suppose you’ll start calling him daddy?” Riyan turned to his friend and saw the grin plastered across his face. “That’s not funny.”

“Sorry, couldn’t be helped,” he said then patted his friend on the back as a chuckle bubbled forth.

Riyan clutched the letter in his hand all the way back to the barrack. Seth and Soth hailed him as he passed them in the hallway but he failed to even know they were there.

His thoughts were on this unexpected development and he wasn’t entirely sure if he liked it or not.

Once back in his room Chad asked him if he wished to be alone, but Riyan told him to stay. As Chad sat on the bed next to him, he untied the ribbon and opened the letter:
My Dear Riyan,

I was greatly relieved to receive your letter and to know you were doing fine. The
Warriors Guild! You couldn’t have made a better choice. I know your father would have
been pleased.

I am fine, so don’t spend any time worrying about me. Seeing as how you don’t plan
to return and take up shepherding again, I have sold the flock. You’ll think me overly
sentimental when I tell you I couldn’t bear to part with Black Face. You complained
about him so much when you were still here, that I think of you whenever I see him.

The coins you sent, plus those I received from the selling of the sheep, will keep me
for some time. You needn’t worry about my finances any longer.

I showed your letter to Chad’s parents and they were pleased with the course he’s
chosen for his life. Tell him that if he were to come home, he wouldn’t be turned away.

He showed that part to Chad and he saw a tear come to his eye. “Looks like your father has forgiven you,” Riyan said softly.

Chad nodded. “They’re pleased with me.” It was more than he had expected and it seemed to lift a weight from off of him that he didn’t even know was there.

Riyan gave his friend a grin then returned to the rest of the letter.

Chad’s family took me and Raestin out to the Sterling Sheep for dinner. Let me tell
you the look on Rupert’s face when he heard the news would have made you smile. I
don’t think he liked the fact you two are in the Warriors Guild very much.

Freya and her father happened to be there as well. They were having dinner with the
Magistrate and Rupert. Freya’s eyes lit up when she learned how your life was faring.

And no, she hasn’t changed the date for the wedding, though from what she tells me she’s
under some pressure from her father and Rupert to do so.

I’m afraid my son, that being in the Warriors Guild won’t be enough to sway her
father into changing his mind about the betrothal. If that was your plan, I’m sorry.

I suppose I should have started this letter with the news about Raestin asking to call
on me from time to time. He said he planned to ask you for permission but I told him not
to bother you with it. But he said he didn’t want anyone skilled with a sword after him
thinking he had taken inappropriate liberties with their mother. I pray you said it was
okay.

He’s a good man, at least from what I gathered during the one evening we spent
together. Even Chad’s parents liked him. Raestin said that he would stop by whenever his
business brought him this way.

Again, I hope this letter finds you healthy and happy. Take care,
Mother

Riyan read that letter over several times before going to bed that night. He even had his reply written and ready for whenever Raestin should show up to collect it. It did him good to hear that his mother was fine. Chad was in high spirits too. The fact that he could come home should he want was the best news anyone could have given him.

Two days later, Bart arrived at Kevik’s tower. During his return from Wardean, he was forced to seek shelter at one of the roadside inns to weather the storm. The following morning it had mostly subsided and he was able to resume his journey.

He saw what was left of the tree Chad and Riyan had cut down as he rode his horse up to the tower and dismounted. “Kevik!” he hollered. “You up there?” Glancing up to the window of Kevik’s workshop he looked for him to poke his head out and acknowledge that he was there. But he didn’t.

Bart secured his horse’s reins to one of the remaining branches on the felled tree then hollered up there again. He stood with hands on hips staring up at the window, his annoyance beginning to grow. Then he heard the sound of the front door to the manor house open behind him. Turning around, he saw Kevik appear in the doorway.

“Took a break from the tower until your return,” he said as Bart headed his way.

Stepping inside, he held the door open while Bart entered.

Bart could feel the heat radiating from the fireplace as soon as he passed through the doorway. “This is much better than the tower,” he agreed. “Besides, it’s warmer in here.” Closing the door to keep the warmth inside, Kevik indicated a chair near the fire for Bart to sit in. “The night the big storm rolled through, I froze in the tower,” he explained.

“No matter how much wood I burned, the cold stone simply absorbed it and left me frozen.”

Bart sat and warmed himself by the fire while Kevik went into the other room. “I found out the information you needed,” he hollered to him.

“That’s great,” came the reply. A few seconds later Kevik appeared again holding a tray with a steaming pot and two mugs. “Would you like some tea?” he asked.

“Yes I would,” replied Bart.

Setting the tray bearing the pot and mugs on a small table next to the chair Bart sat in, Kevik filled each mug with the steaming liquid. He offered one to Bart before settling in the chair next to him.