The Keys to Paradise, page 59
‘Ah, new clothes!’ Keja cried like a child with a new toy. He stuck out one arm to admire the crimson sleeve ribbons and the material blousing from the tight velvet cuff.
‘You’re incredible, Keja,’ Petia said, watching the fashion show. ‘I’ve never seen such vanity.’
‘Are you two ready?’ Giles asked from across the room. ‘Anji and I have been ready to go for the last half-hour.’
Keja turned one last time to see whether his new trousers fitted as well as he had thought when he purchased them. They were tight and Petia admired the curve of his bottom in the mirror once again. She would never let on that she thought so, but Keja did have a wonderful body.
Keja picked up his new cloak, heather blue with two broad grey chevrons, and quite dashing. He twirled it to see how the ends layed out, then stood still to admire its drape.
‘Come on, Keja,’ Giles ordered. ‘The women will all adore you. But they won’t have a chance if we don’t get out on the street where you can be seen.’
Once Giles got them moving towards the Callant Hanse, he allowed no further delay. On the street he walked determinedly, with Anji trying to match him stride for stride. Petia and Keja walked along behind, but Petia kept the young rogue from stopping to admire the goods in shop windows. When they reached the marketplace, she had a more difficult time. Keja wanted to paw every item laid out in the stalls, his quick glances roving from one table to another. Giles and Anji got farther ahead and Petia pulled Keja by the arm.
At the Callant Hanse they announced themselves and their business. They were ushered into the consulting room. The young master, Simon Callant, entered and greeted them. ‘You’re all looking satisfied,’ he said. ‘I take it you’ve successfully found the final key.’ Giles nodded. ‘And now you want the other four?’
‘Not yet,’ Giles said. We think we’ll give the final one into your keeping for a while.’
Surprise showed on Callant’s face, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He looked at the gaudy Keja Tchurak. ‘And you would like to see the other four keys.’ It was more statement than question.
Keja reddened. ‘Yes.’
Callant pulled the bell rope close to hand. When a young man appeared, he ordered the keys brought from the vault. ‘And meantime, refreshments. Jaeger.’
When the servant poured the wine, Simon Callant toasted the end of a successful endeavour, but true to the philosophy of the great merchant house, Callant asked no questions about how they had obtained the key. He talked about the state of the economy, the upcoming goose fair, and the hanging of a rogue several weeks back.
When the keys arrived, the servant presented them on a red velvet pillow. Giles nudged Anji, who removed the cord from around his neck. Giles pulled a small knife from its scabbard at his belt, and snicked the string holding the key. He gestured to Anji, who removed the final key and placed it with the four others.
Giles shivered at the beautiful sight: four gold keys, each with a semi-precious stone in the round flat portion at the end of the shaft. Peridot, ruby, emerald, amethyst. And the final key, which ought to have been gold, a duplicate in steel. The hair on the back of Giles’ neck rose at the sight of them.
‘May I?’ Keja looked at Giles, who nodded. Keja lifted the keys, one by one, and examined them. Then he passed them along to the others. Anji, last in line, replaced them with reverence.
Giles drained the last of his wine and stood. ‘Thank you, Master Callant. We will be back.’ He led the way out of the room while the young banker stared after them.
The day wore on slowly, but no one seemed to mind. The companions had money from the jewels and gold they had brought back from their adventure in Shahal. Petia spent her time teaching Anji to read and write. Giles took long, pensive walks along the sea wall. Keja managed to keep himself occupied with the young ladies of Sanustell’s society.
Giles carefully kept a close watch on ship movements into the harbour. Few ships crossed from Bericlere during the winter. Harsh winds threatened when the first one called, and the captain and crew of the second were an ugly lot, whom he did not trust. The third would have done, but it was sailing for the far east of Bericlere, and Giles decided to pass.
In the midst of waiting for the proper ship, Giles worried over the course he must follow. He knew he had to trick his friends and steal the five keys to the Gate of Paradise. Only One May Enter. That inscription haunted him until he lost weight and began to sleep poorly. Petia thought he had an ague; but even self-centred Keja noticed and inquired often.
Giles knew he would have to act soon. But how?
Hints of spring came to trees and shrubs when a fourth vessel called, a clean ship with a wholesome-looking crew. It’s next port of call was Arginis, near Klepht where their adventures had begun, although they hadn’t known each other at the time. Giles made arrangements with the captain for passage for himself and his three companions. They made a final visit to Callant Hanse and took possession of the five keys.
Simon Callant stared suspiciously at Giles – or did the grizzled old veteran only imagine it? Giles Grimsmate’s hand shook as he secured the five keys and bid the mercantile house owner farewell.
* * *
The voyage proved calm, in spite of brisk spring winds. The companions walked the deck from bow to stern and back, enjoying the fresh air. On the tenth day the landmass of Bericlere showed on the horizon, and on the eleventh the ship made land and docked at Arginis. The companions said their goodbyes to captain and crew and found an inn for the night.
The Sleeping Kraken was as cosy an inn as they had ever stayed in. Mistress Allyne hovered about them as if they were the first guests she had had in years. She fussed over the fireplace, rattling it up into a full flame and adding another log. She insisted that they were warm themselves while she mulled wine for them. When they were warm both inside and out, she showed them to their two rooms. Both had fires burning in fireplaces and the sea chill in the previously unoccupied rooms had fled.
Early the next morning, Keja began the accumulation of gear for their trip to Hawk’s Prairie – and the Gate.
That evening Keja staggered into the inn with a grinning Anji at his heels. ‘Damn the boy,’ Keja announced. ‘We looked at every horse in town and some outside. “Giles wouldn’t like that one,” he says. “No, too old, see the teeth. This one’s got a nasty temperament. Bowed tendons on this one, look.” He wouldn’t let me buy even one horse so we could ride. No, we had to walk all over town, and then retrace our steps.’
Giles laughed as Keja recited the litany. Petia smiled, because Giles had not laughed in a long time. She worried about him. Since arriving he had become increasingly withdrawn.
‘But we have four good horses, Giles,’ Anji said proudly. ‘The best I could find. They are strong and well-mannered and will carry us wherever we want to go. Not one of them will go lame, I promise you.’
‘I believe you, Anji. You have a gift with horses. Now, you’re just in time for supper. Mistress Allyne says that she has something special for us this evening.’
Still they lingered in Arginis. Giles, usually the restive one, found dozens of reasons not to continue. And each day spent at the inn wore him down even more.
Finally, Petia said, ‘The weather has turned fine. The trees have blossomed while we’ve been here, birds are building nests, the spring lambs have been turned out to pasture and still we sit.’
The others did not speak, eyes on Giles. Giles rose and paced the room. ‘Well, I’m ready,’ he said. ‘No more delays. This may be the greatest adventure of them all.’ The words caught in his throat. ‘We will leave in the morning.’ With that he almost ran from the room.
They rode along the coastal road from Arginis to Klepht, the sun shining stronger than it had for days. Evidence of spring was everywhere. To their left the calm ocean waves lapped on a shingle beach. Listening to the riffle of rocks washed back and forth by each wave lulled the riders. They relaxed in their saddles, enjoying the fresh air and the greenery springing forth at every hand.
All, save Giles. Each clop of his horse took him closer to the Gate and the need to betray the others.
‘It hardly seems like we’re on the last leg,’ Petia said, ‘When we started this, I was sure that we’d never make it. But it didn’t make any difference. I was running away and had nothing better to do.’
‘I was running, too, in a sense,’ Giles said. ‘I didn’t think of it that way at the time, but I couldn’t stand my own village, its people, and, most of all, its memories. I told myself that I was off to see a bit of the world before I got old. But I was really running.’
Keja laughed out loud. ‘You two don’t know the first thing about running. I’m not even going to tell you about some of my chases.’
‘Speaking of running, Giles, would it be all right if we didn’t go through Klepht?’ Petia looked concerned. ‘I had forgotten until now. I killed a couple of men who followed me out of Klepht, and the city guards’ memory is long.’
‘And I was so looking forward to the fish stew at the Laughing Cod.’ Giles pulled a map from his tunic.
‘I’ll never think of you without seeing you pulling out a map,’ Petia laughed.
‘They come in handy,’ Giles answered. ‘We’ll turn off and take to the cliff tops.’
By evening they were northeast of Klepht, sheltered in a vale. They were seated around a campfire, content with full stomachs, reminiscing about their earlier adventures. It was a scene that would repeat itself each evening. They revived the scrapes, the times they had been near death, the good people and the bad whom they had met, and most of all they delighted again in their triumphs.
Petia retired early, snuggling down in her blankets on the opposite side of the fire, with Anji close by. For a while, Giles and Keja talked in a desultory fashion. Giles got up to add wood to the fire, and checked to see if Petia slept soundly.
When he sat down again, he turned, a serious expression on his face. ‘I’ve got to talk with you, Keja. I’ve been waiting for the proper time.’
Keja’s eyebrows lifted. ‘What about?’
‘The Gate. Specifically the inscriptions written on the archway above it. Do you remember it?’
‘I can’t say that I do,’ Keja replied. ‘I remember that there were runes, but I couldn’t read them.’
‘I could. They say that only’ – Giles swallowed hard at the lie – ‘two people can enter the Gate.’
Keja’s mouth dropped. ‘You mean…’ Keja pointed helplessly at Petia and Anji sleeping opposite the fire.
‘It appears that way to me,’ Giles replied. ‘Can you imagine what it would be like if all four of us got there and then Petia and Anji discovered that they couldn’t enter?’
‘What are you proposing, Giles? Come on, spit it out.’
‘It’s obvious, Keja. We’ve got to take the keys and leave Petia and Anji.’
Even devious Keja was taken aback at this. ‘But after all we’ve been through, we can’t do that!’
‘I don’t intend to leave them penniless, Keja.’ Giles frowned. ‘I’m not that mercenary. With all the wealth we’ll have when we unlock the Gate of Paradise, we needn’t worry about money, or jewels, or gold for ourselves. I intend to leave them my share that we withdrew at the Callant Hanse. They won’t suffer. It will be more wealth than Petia has ever dreamed of. She can settle down with Anji, see that he has schooling, own her own dwelling and horses. She’ll have enough to last her the rest of her life, and give Anji a good start as well.’
Keja stared into the flames, as if dealing with something he could never have imagined, coming to grips with a new idea. He got up, stirred the fire, added sticks, and poured a cup of tea for himself. When he sat down, a puzzled look crossed his face.
Finally he shook his head. ‘I thought I was the one who was underhanded. When will we go?’ he asked.
‘There’s plenty of time yet, but we should pick a time and then stick with it. The keys are no problem; they’re all in a sealskin packet. We’ll go quietly in the middle of the night. We’ll be away by the time they wake.’
Keja nodded. ‘Enough time to reach the Gate with days to spare, so we can take what we want and be away before they catch up with us.’
Giles knew exactly how many days it would take to reach Hawk’s Prairie and suggested when they should leave. Having got Keja’s agreement, he smoked one last pipe, then stretched out beneath his blankets. For a while, he thought about his betrayal of the Trans woman and her ward. At last he slept restlessly.
* * *
A week later, as he built up the evening fire, Giles signalled Keja that they would leave tonight. Keja nodded. Although there had not been any opportunity to talk about it further, both men had made their preparations. They would leave with a minimum of noise.
After supper Giles asked Keja to help him wash their bowls in a nearby stream. ‘Tonight,’ he told the small thief, hating himself for it. ‘I’ve got the keys. They’ll be asleep soon.’ Keja nodded his agreement.
Halfway between midnight and dawn Giles placed his hand over Keja’s mouth, and shook his shoulder. The man roused himself quickly, threw his blanket over one shoulder, his pack over the other, and crept away to the place where the horses were tied.
Before leaving, Giles placed his own treasure in Petia’s pack. Now he looked sadly at Petia and Anji and whispered an apology to them. He saw Petia’s lips turn upward in a smile, as if she had heard him and acknowledged.
Giles turned away, heavy in his heart. He liked Petia and Anji, perhaps even loved them, and would miss them terribly. ‘Damn,’ he muttered. If there was a way to explain it to her, he would have stayed and done so.
He walked carefully away to the horses. Without a word to Keja, he threw the saddle on his mount, stuffed the bridle into the top of his pack, and loosened the halter rope. He turned and led the way down to the stream, then waded down-stream. His face was a storm cloud, and had Keja been able to see, he would have thought twice about accompanying this man.
For a long while Giles waded through the water, seemingly oblivious of its coldness. He hated himself and thought more then once of turning back. But ahead lay the Gate of Paradise and the promise locked behind it. He had pursued that dream for over two years, and he was not to be denied. But he had never betrayed friends, and he knew he must do it once again before passing into Paradise and the obliteration of his bodily aches, pains and increasing old age.
Paradise meant youth to Giles, a removal of pain more valuable than any gold.
At last he turned, dripping from the stream, and tied his horse to a bush so that he could properly saddle and bridle it. He lashed his pack to the back of the cantle and mounted, waiting impatiently for Keja. When Keja was mounted, he nodded curtly and urged the horse into a canter.
The cool night air did little to erase Giles’ intense anger with himself. He raged internally for the remainder of the night, and when Keja essayed conversation, Giles cut him short.
But something more than his betrayal niggled at the edges of Giles’ mind. An hour before dawn, he stopped, head cocked to one side as if listening.
‘What is it?’ asked Keja, hardly any happier than Giles over their perfidy.
‘Something’s wrong.’ Giles’ eyes widened. ‘Segrinn!’ he cried.
‘What? What do you mean? He’s back in…’ Keja’s voice trailed off. ‘Why should he stay at Onyx’s citadel,’ the small thief said, ‘when the Black Lord is dead?’
‘He knows where we go and has had a month or more to go directly while we dawdled.’
As one they cried, ‘Petia!’
They spun and galloped back towards the camp they’d vacated. As Giles rode, a sense of impending disaster mounted. Just out of earshot of the camp, he halted their rush. They dismounted. He fingered his sword dangling at his belt but did not draw it.
‘Giles!’ Keja whispered urgently. ‘Listen!’
The snuffling of hounds came on the wind. Giles drew his sword; Keja followed his lead. The wind in their face carried wet animal scents. Giles’ entire body came alive once again as he prepared for combat.
When one of Segrinn’s hell-hounds bounded out of the shadow, Giles reacted instinctively. The sword tip spitted the animal, but the hound’s weight carried Giles to the ground. Keja finished the animal with a powerful overhead cut that severed its spine.
Keja started to gloat. Giles silenced him. A dozen feet away stood a large, black figure. The glint of wan firelight reflected off the dagger blade.
Giles moved with purpose – and a silent tread that hadn’t been his for twenty years. The sword spun around, edge at the hidden figure’s throat.
Segrinn squeaked as the blade bit deeply into his throat. Giles spun him around and Keja kicked the dagger out of the slaver’s hand.
‘Quiet, or I cut your throat,’ Giles whispered hotly into the man’s ear. Segrinn’s struggles quieted.
‘You’ll not get away with this,’ Segrinn said in low tones. ‘You might take care of that fool Onyx, but not the son of Lord Ambrose! The cat Trans will be mine again! I swear it!’
‘He’s mad, Giles,’ Keja said. ‘Listen to him. You’d think he had the sword at your throat.’
‘Name your price. I want the Trans bitch!’
Keja faded into the dark, returning a few minutes later. ‘He’s alone. No sign of soldiers. And that was the only hound.’
‘Wealth!’ cried Segrinn, beginning to froth at the mouth. ‘Gold! I want the bitch!’
Giles cut deeper and felt liquid drip down the sword blade and on to his hand. ‘Silence!’ he hissed.
Segrinn ignored him. ‘Onyx was a fool. He wanted only those ridiculous keys. I want Petia Darya!’
‘What of your troops?’ asked Giles, still worrying.
‘Dead, with Onyx. Even his hawk perished with him! You killed the man who bonded you away from murder charges. Ingrate!’
‘Onyx killed the priest,’ Giles growled. ‘He left me to take the blame.’ Giles had suspected Onyx had been responsible for his release but hadn’t known until this moment. But all that lay in the past – the distant past.
