“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.
“Couldn’t have been too far,” he said to himself as he rubbed his arms. Shivering from the cold, he tried to bring a hint of warmth back into his body.
In his pack, the waterlogged Cloak would afford him little protection from the cold. Nestled in the bottom alongside his lockpicks and darts, was the tube lantern and a half dozen small candles. He longed to use his tube lantern, but if someone saw light coming from where there shouldn’t be any, it was all over.
Thoughts of Riyan came to him. What were they doing? Had the powers that be connected them to him? He thought that unlikely, but strangers were always the first ones to be questioned when troubles arose. And a Byrdlon trespasser would raise many questions. Worry gnawed at him and so his thumb rotated the ring on his finger as he thought of Kevik.
Kevik, he said in his mind.
After a moment, he heard Kevik’s questioning thought. Bart, are you okay?
For the moment, he replied. I’m not sure where I am. Then he sent a mental picture of himself crawling through the crevice.
We’re by the castle’s gates, Kevik told him.
Be careful, warned Bart.
We are, assured Kevik. There was a pause for a moment then Kevik said, Riyan wants to know how we can help you?
You can’t, he replied. I’m going to try to make my way from the castle once night has fallen. Go back to the inn and wait for me there. If trouble develops, get out of town as best you can.
What about you? Kevik asked.
Bart thought a moment then replied, I’ve got the Cloak.
Alright, Kevik said. Good luck.
You too, Bart said. Once the connection between him and Kevik was severed, he reached up and took another handhold as he continued to climb.
“Well?” asked the man with the air of command.
“He’s alive,” the magic user stated. With the purplish ball spitting micro bursts of lightning, he moved rapidly along the hallway. Then all of a sudden, what he had been detecting suddenly disappeared.
Coming to a stop, he turned to his lord and said, “I lost it.”
“Do you know where he is?” asked the lord.
“Somewhere below us,” the magic user replied.
The River Man nodded. Turning to the captain of his personal guard, he said, “I want men posted in every corridor.”
“I’ll have to draw on the city guard to do it,” his captain told him.
“Then do it,” he commanded.
His captain bowed then turned and hurried down the corridor to carry out his lord’s command.
“Is there anyway you can locate him?” the River Man asked.
“If he again makes use of magic, I can find him,” assured the magic user.
The Warlord of the Orack Tribe turned to the magic user who had served his father before him. “See that you do,” he said. “Circumstances are at a delicate balance now. We cannot afford to have anything come to pass which might unravel all we have worked for.”
Looking grimly at his lord, the magic user nodded.
The crevice had narrowed to such an extent, that Bart had been forced to remove his pack in order to continue. Now it dangled below him from a strap secured to his left ankle. If the crevice narrowed any further, he would have to return back the way he had come. That was a prospect he didn’t even want to contemplate.
Having set a foothold, he straightened his leg and raised himself another few inches in the crevice. A sharp jutting edge of rock scraped his back as he moved. His chest was pressed against the side of the crevice as well and he thought that he may have come as far as he was able.
Bart tried repositioning himself and managed to move his back from off the rock. Reaching up for another handhold, his hand moved along the side of the crevice searching for one that would support his weight. Then all of a sudden, the rock wall ended and his hand was in open air.
Elated that he may have come to the end of the crevice, he felt around the open area and found a flat surface running perpendicular to the opening. In his mind he pictured the crevice opening out onto a floor.
It was still completely dark, not even a vague shadow that might hint at the possibility of light. Moving with renewed determination, he took hold of the opening’s edge and pulled himself up.
One side of the floor extended outward a foot before ending at a wall. The opposite side extended further than he could reach. The water that had been dripping down through the crevice was coming from where it flowed down the wall and across the short distance to the opening. The rest of the floor on the opposite side was relatively dry.
After Bart climbed his way though the opening, he pulled up his pack by the strap attached to his ankle and set it next to him. He then laid on the floor for a moment to rest, glad that he was out of the crevice. Scanning the darkness for any tell-tale sign of light, he failed to locate any.
His breathing echoed faintly along with the drip, drip, drip of water. Despite the risk of being seen, now that he was out of the crevice he had to know where he was. So taking his pack, he pulled out one of his candles and his flint.
Kneeling down close to the floor, he scraped his flint along its surface to produce sparks. It took him a couple tries before one fell upon the candle’s wick. Then blowing ever so softly, he managed to encourage it to ignite the wick.
The budding flame revealed that he was in a small room, barely ten feet by twenty. The area around the crevice opening was riddled with cracks, as well as the wall down which the water ran. He held aloft the candle and saw a hole in the ceiling at the top of the wall which was the source of the water. Where it might lead would forever remain a mystery as the hole was far too small for him to pass.
What the purpose of the room had at one time been, he couldn’t guess. It was bare and empty with no markings on the wall. A layer of dust covered the floor, marred only with the tracks of rats. Glancing around the small room, he found a single doorway that looked to be the only way out.
Before exploring where the doorway led, he did his best to wring out the water from his pack, and the Cloak. The clothes he had on were damp, but no longer soaked. They had dried somewhat during his climb through the crevice.
He removed his tube lantern and an extra candle before returning the Cloak to his pack. The extra candle he placed in a pocket for easy access, and the candle which was already lit, he placed within his tube lantern. Then with pack again across his back, and tube lantern in hand, he stood up and walked to the doorway.
Shining his light through the doorway revealed a narrow, dust filled hallway extending away into darkness. A secret passage maybe? The amount of undisturbed dust on the floor would suggest this area hadn’t seen traffic in quite some time. He started to move into the passage then came to a stop.
He took a moment to remove a white cloth from out of his pack and place it over the end of the tube lantern. Now only a soft glow pervaded the darkness. This had a twofold benefit. One, he could still see while not overtly advertising his presence. And two, if this was in fact a secret passage, then the chance of seeing light coming though a hidden opening or spyhole was greatly improved. The only drawback was that the distance he could see down the passage was minimal. Resuming his forward motion, he entered the passage.
The narrowness of it barely afforded him enough room to walk without scraping shoulders on the walls to either side. The glow from the cloth shrouded tube showed them to be plain stone, unadorned except for the occasional patch of cobwebs stretching from one side to the other.
He followed the passage for a brief moment before coming to a junction. Another narrow passage joined the one he was in from the right. After trying to ascertain which would be the better way to go in the glow of the cloth covered lantern, he removed the cloth to provide better lighting. Unfortunately the added light failed to reveal any difference between the two passages. Both continued past the reach of the tube lantern’s light, and the floors of each held an identical layer of undisturbed dust. Deciding to continue straight, he replaced the cloth at the end of the lantern and resumed his progress.
After going no more than five feet, he saw the glint of something metallic ahead on the floor. When he came to it he discovered the glint to be a reflection of the lantern’s light coming from a silver coin. Bart recognized the coin as one having been widely used for decades. Picking it up, he put it in his pouch and continued on.
The passage continued for a while before another intersected his again. This time, the passage came from the right, and a moment of removing the cloth and shining the tube lantern’s light down it revealed stone steps going up. Ten feet from where he stood, the stone steps ascended up out of sight. Deciding his best chance of escape lay that way, he replaced the cloth over the lantern and turned down the new passage toward the steps.
It was a steep, narrow, and winding path the steps led until they ended at another passage moving directly away from the mouth of the stairwell. Leaving the steps, Bart began following this new passage. As the others below, this one too had been undisturbed for some time. Bart got to thinking that perhaps the knowledge of this secret area, if secret it was, might have been forgotten over the years.
As he followed the passage, he kept his eyes and ears alert for any sign of a way out. Fifteen feet from the mouth of the stairwell, he saw a light ahead. At that point, he slowed his progress as he closed the distance to it.
The light as it turned out was sunlight shining through a very narrow opening in the right side of the wall. No more than six inches by one, the opening probably wasn’t large enough to be noticeable from the outside.
A barely noticeable breeze was blowing through. The fresh air was a relief after the mustiness of the lower passage. Putting his eye to the opening, he saw that it faced a large inner garden.
The opening was a good twenty feet above the garden which led him to believe he was on the second floor of the castle. The garden itself was completely encompassed by the castle, a place where those of the castle could go to relax and meet without being observed by the common man.
Three ladies sat in chairs near a fountain. What they were saying went unheard as they were too far away. Bart continued to peer from the opening for several more minutes before continuing down the passage. He still didn’t have a way out, and from where he figured himself to be based on what he saw through the opening, he wasn’t very close to the outer edge of the castle.
Not far from the opening overlooking the inner garden, he spied another area with light. This time, it was on the left side and extended in a four foot vertical line. A door was Bart’s first thought as he hurried toward it. When he reached it, he found that he was correct. About midway up the vertical line of light, a wooden sliding bar locked the door into place. He was sure that if he slid open the bar, he could pull the door open. The light didn’t have near the intensity of the sunlight which had shone through the opening he came across earlier. It must be coming from a candle. And a lit candle meant someone had to be there.
Bart first tried to peer through the crack but couldn’t see much more than a picture hanging on the wall across from him. It was probably a guest room of some sort. No sound came to him as he peered through the crack. It could be that someone had just stepped from the room. But he decided the chance wasn’t worth the risk. If he continued along and found no better way from the secret passage, he would come back and try it.
Moving on, he continued down the passage. In the course of the next five minutes, he came across another secret door similar to the one he had first encountered. Only this time he could hear someone moving around on the other side. A moment’s peering through the crack of the secret door revealed it was one of the castle’s servants going about her work. Leaving the door behind, he continued on.
He had until nightfall to find a suitable exit from which to leave the hidden area. Until then, he would continue to explore in the hopes of finding one which would afford him a good chance to escape. If one didn’t present itself, he would take his chances with what was available.