The Bard, page 15
Sam nodded, unable to speak.
The Bard looked at her in surprise. “You cannot be serious.”
“I cannot speak for the start of the story, but I am responsible for her being in our world and can vouch that everything she spoke about since joining my team is the absolute truth,” Tor informed him.
“So you must be Brin,” the Bard said to the elf, noticing for the first time that he was holding Sam’s hand. Brin nodded. “Then you have my humblest apologies,” he said, turning once more to look at Sam. He was about to say more when he was disturbed by the door bursting open.
“How did you get in here?” he asked in a raised voice, as a short man stumbled into the room.
“I ran through your bodyguard’s legs,” Grimmel informed him, straightening himself up. Without introducing himself, he turned his back to the Bard and addressed Tor. “You need to come with me. Now.”
“This is kind of important Grimmel,” Tor replied.
Grimmel ignored him. “There was trouble at the palace. Ellen is...” He found he was unable to finish the sentence. What could he say? A vampire? One of the living dead? A little paler than last time you saw her? This was not something that he could blurt out in front of strangers.
“What’s happened to Ellen?” Sam asked, grabbing his arm to get his attention.
“Well she is, sort of, dead.”
“How can she be sort of dead? Either she is dead or she is not,” Cirren said, oblivious to the shocked look on the faces of his companions.
“Take me to her,” Patrick commanded, his face set as though carved from stone.
“I will come with you,” the Bard volunteered. Tor began to tell him that this was none of his business, but the Bard held up his hand. “If what this dwarf says is true then you have fulfilled the other part of your mission here and I will be able to give you the next clue.”
Tor said nothing; he simply turned his back on the Bard and strode from the room, closely followed by Sam, Brin and Cirren. Patrick had already left and Grimmel was running to catch him up.
“Very well,” Vitkin said, signalling that the Bard should walk ahead of him. Utel followed them out, pushing past the larger man and taking her brother by the hand.
“I warned her not to trust the King,” she muttered as they walked down the road.
By the time they had got to the clearing where Grimmel had left River and Hawk, they had placed Ellen’s body in the coffin on the back of the wagon and River had started to clean some of the blood from her face. Grimmel placed a finger over his lips, silently informing them to keep quiet.
“How did you get hold of a coffin so quickly?” Utel asked, confused.
“It is mine,” Hawk said. “I am a vampire.”
Utel took an unconscious step backwards, away from the pale man with the teeth that suddenly looked very sharp. Her brother ignored the exchange, walking up to where Ellen lay, appearing to be asleep, and touched her cheek.
“She is still slightly warm,” he announced. Then he noticed the blood stains down the front of her chest and the deep cut in her neck. “What happened?” he asked.
“I heard her calling me,” Hawk explained. “When I arrived at the palace I saw her hiding in the grounds. I was not able to reach her before a man in uniform cut her throat from behind.”
A cry of agony escaped from Patrick’s throat and Vitkin and Cirren dragged him out of earshot.
“Describe the uniform,” Utel said quickly. Hawk obliged, making the young lady swear. “The King’s personal guards,” she explained once she had run out of swear words and had started to repeat herself.
“I am sorry for your loss,” the Bard said solemnly. “For the King’s guards to have acted, the order must have come from the King himself. If there was anything I could do to avenge her death I would, but I am powerless to go against the King. All I can do is tell you the next clue.”
Tor looked across to where his brothers were having to physically restrain Patrick to prevent him running off to the palace in an attempt to get to the King. He looked once more into the coffin at the still and lifeless form. Losing Bellak had been hard, but Ellen was almost like a sister to him and her death was making him question whether the quest was worth it. Sam could read the indecision on his face.
“Remember when I was unwilling to go through agony for you and Ellen and Bellak cast a spell so that I was able to see some of your memories?” Tor nodded. “What you showed me was good enough to change my mind. Please don’t make what I went through pointless. Every single member of this team is here because they believe in you and are prepared to lay down their life to get you that throne. Don’t let Ellen’s sacrifice be in vain.”
Her words struck home and he raised his head. “Hawk, would you be so kind as to fly to the inn and let the others know that we are leaving. Grimmel can let you know where it is. We will meet them on the road the other side of the city.”
Grimmel took Hawk aside, talking to him quietly, and the vampire was soon in the air, heading towards the city. Tor walked towards his brothers and Patrick, signalling with his head that everyone else should accompany him.
“Tell us the next clue,” he requested, casting an apologetic glance at Patrick. The Bard waited till everyone was within earshot then started to speak.
To Kaylin’s altar you must return
If the next clue you wish to learn
To reach the clue you have to fly
If you should fall, you will die
A key is needed to open the door
Search the walls and the floor
Airtight seals enclose the room
So be quick or face your doom
“Do you ever get the feeling we are going round in circles?” Grimmel grumbled.
“We can discuss this later,” Tor said quickly, his tone adding ‘once we are alone.’ “Thank you for your help,” he continued, addressing the Bard and his sister. “Is there any way you can give my remaining brothers the clue without them meeting the criteria? I feel there has been enough bloodshed on this quest already.”
“It is the least I can do after the way you and your friends have been treated,” the Bard replied warmly. “It will give the rest an unfair advantage, but if you three have no complaints, then I am more than happy to drop the criteria. I was against it in the first place and only agreed to appease the King.” It took all of his will-power not to spit when he said the word ‘King’. Before today he had no respect for the man; now he despised him. Tor and his company should have been under the protection of the royal guards, not murdered by them.
“Thank you,” Tor said, shaking the man’s hand. Utel looked towards the wagon.
“You may leave your friend with us. We will see that she is properly buried,” she volunteered.
“No,” Patrick cried out. “She comes with us.”
“Thank you for the offer,” Sam said soothingly, “But we will tend to her once we are far away from here.”
Nothing more was said and the Bard and his sister slowly made their way back towards the city. Once they were out of sight, Patrick jumped into the back of the wagon and sat down beside the coffin, oblivious to Hawk’s return.
“I was the one that was supposed to die,” he whispered, taking Ellen’s hand in his. “Not you.”
“She is not dead,” River said so quietly that Patrick was unsure if he had heard her correctly.
“What?”
“There was no way to save her so Hawk bit her. The conversion will take a few hours, but once the sun sets tomorrow evening she will arise once more.”
Fury flowed through Patrick. He dropped Ellen’s hand and leaped from the wagon, striding towards Hawk. “You bastard,” he yelled, drawing his sword. Hawk flew into the air, hovering just out of reach. Patrick slashed at him, the tip of the blade narrowly missing the vampire’s feet.
“You cannot kill me you know,” Hawk informed him. “Not with a sword anyway,” he amended.
“I will wait till sunrise then,” Patrick screamed up at him.
“Calm down Patrick,” Tor said slowly, cautiously walking closer to the irate man. “Put the sword away and we can discuss this.”
“What is there to discuss?” he snapped. “Hawk killed Ellen and now I will kill him.”
“Patrick,” Sam called out. “That is not what happened. At least hear the full story before passing judgement.”
“How do you know what happened? You were not even here. You are just trying to protect your boyfriend. What is the matter? The elf not good enough for you? You need to fraternise with the undead as well?”
Sam felt Brin tense beside her and was relieved that he had not reached for his bow. Then she assessed the situation. Patrick was too overcome with grief and anger to listen to reason. The only person that would be able to persuade him not to attack Hawk would be Ellen and she would not come back to life till the next evening. Patrick needed to be incapacitated until then and there was only one way she knew how to do that.
“Brin,” she said, keeping her voice as calm as she could. “Kill him.”
Nobody had time to react. As everyone except Brin turned to stare at her in disbelief, an arrow whizzed past her, striking Patrick in the chest and piercing his heart. His legs gave way and he was dead before he hit the ground. Nobody spoke. Silence filled the air until Sam could take it no longer.
“It was the ideal solution,” she said defensively. “No matter how well we watched him there was a risk that he would find a way of killing Hawk before tomorrow night. This way everyone is safe and Ellen herself can explain the situation when they are both alive again.”
Cirren opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. Sam was right and he knew it. Tor sighed. “Put him in the wagon,” he instructed. Once Brin had retrieved his arrow, Vitkin and Cirren walked over to the corpse and picked it up by the arms and legs.
“Who would have thought that one dead guy could be so heavy,” Vitkin grumbled as they manhandled the body into the back of the wagon.
“How did you know what Sam was thinking?” Grimmel enquired as Brin cleaned the arrow and placed it back in his quiver.
The elf looked down at the dwarf, his face unreadable. “I did not.” He turned and walked away, Grimmel staring at his departing back. Sam was about to follow, but Grimmel held her back.
“He just killed a man in cold blood at your request, without asking for any justification. He did the right thing, but he will need some time to convince himself of that. Leave him alone for a while.”
Hawk, however, ignored the advice and flew off after Brin, landing silently next to him. He said nothing, allowing Brin the opportunity of speaking first. “I did not do it for you,” the elf eventually said.
“I know,” Hawk replied. “You acted instinctively when Sam asked you to and now you are wondering how you could kill someone on her say so without even asking why.”
“Something like that,” Brin said, slowing to a stop and turning to look at Hawk. If he was expecting sympathy then he was in for disappointment.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Hawk said, taking Brin by surprise. “You trust Sam not to ask you to do anything you would not be comfortable with, which is why you did not need to question her request. You did not kill anyone and you know it. Patrick will be back with us by this time tomorrow. All you did was the equivalent of putting him out of his misery for a while. You did him a favour. Now grow up, stop sulking and run to catch up with the others; I think they left already.”
Without waiting for a response, he took to the air and flew away. He was nowhere in sight when Brin walked up to Sam and wordlessly slipped his arm around her shoulders. She placed her arm around his waist and pulled him close. No words were needed.
“Where are we going?” Brin asked after they had been walking for a while. They appeared to be circling the city.
“You heard the clue,” Vitkin said, overhearing the question. “Where do you think we are going?”
“Back to Linket,” Brin said with a sigh.
Chapter 14
Linket brought back memories for Brin. It had been there that they had obtained the clue that said Sam must suffer agony if they were to continue the quest. Hearing the name brought back images of Sam falling to the ground after he had shot her with the arrow, and of her suffering, her body full of fever, as they travelled back to Allias’s palace. Even the things that had happened afterwards, their lovemaking in the pool room and the fact that they were now inseparable, did nothing to dispel the memories of the torture he had put himself through when he thought he may have killed her.
Brin was not the only one who was not happy about returning to Linket. Most of the company felt they were going backwards, not forwards, and everything they had accomplished since leaving that realm had been for nothing.
They travelled for what was left of the night, meeting the others on the road as promised. It felt good to be mounted once more; the walk around the city had caused blisters on more than one pair of feet. Before the sun began to rise, the question was posed as to where Hawk was going to sleep. He managed to squeeze himself into the coffin next to Ellen, but complained that this was only a short term solution; a new coffin would have to be made or purchased as soon as possible.
They stopped for a short time at midday to have a meal and water the horses. The topic of the latest clue was brought up. The first verse was obvious; the clue would be somewhere high up that you could not reach by climbing or jumping. This they had covered; Hawk would be able to fly as high as was needed. The second verse was the more worrying. The words themselves made sense, but there appeared to be no mystery to them, no puzzle to solve. It read as though all they had to do was find a key, use it to open a door and retrieve the next clue before they ran out of air. They had been warned about that the last time they visited the tomb, so this came as no surprise. But it sounded too simple. The element of danger was there, but they had grown used to that; it was the puzzle itself that was concerning. Other clues had not been straight forward, they had contained something that had required research or thinking laterally instead of literally, but none of them could spot what that was this time. Every single person felt they were missing something, but nobody had any suggestions as to what it could be.
“I do not like the fact that we are returning to somewhere we have already been,” Torrick said, breaking the silence that had developed as they were all lost in their own thoughts. “When you entered the tomb, did you see any other doors or somewhere a key could be located?”
Only Modo, Brin, Dal and the three Princes had entered the tomb that contained the altar so only they would be able to provide any information. They each cast their minds back to their time inside that cold stone room, trying to picture what it looked like.
“Nothing,” Vitkin eventually replied. “I do not remember seeing any door, other than the door through which we entered, and I recall that there was absolutely nothing inside the tomb other than the alter and the sarcophagus.”
“Me neither,” Cirren said. “If there was a key on the altar then we would have seen it. I cannot speak for the rest of you, but my team examined every part of that altar thoroughly; there was definitely no place to hide anything.”
“Maybe it is in the coffin,” Dal ventured, shivering as she did so. The thought of opening it up and searching the remains inside made her feel sick.
Seth winced. “Sarcophagus,” he corrected his wife. “Coffin sounds too common.”
“I do not think it is in the coffin, sorry sarcophagus,” Cirren joined in. “Last time I was there my friends and I tried to open it. That thing was sealed shut. Nothing short of magic is going to open it.”
“Maybe the key has been placed on the tomb since we were last there” Vitkin suggested. “The rest of our brothers must have gotten the first clue from there by now.”
Tor shook his head. “That would not make sense. It would mean relying on all of us getting the first clue before any of us were ready for the second one and I cannot imagine the deviser of this quest taking such a risk. No, we must have overlooked something. We were so busy concentrating on the altar that we may well have missed the key.”
Conversation continued for a while, but no conclusions were drawn. Eventually the order to move on was given and the weary crowd reluctantly got to their feet and remounted. The hours passed slowly as they travelled until the sun finally began to set and they found a place to rest for the night. Almost as soon as the wagon had stopped, the lid of the coffin was thrown off and Hawk jumped out, complaining about being stiff and sore from spending the day with Ellen, crammed into a box only designed for one. He received no sympathy so took to the sky in search of food.
Shortly afterwards, Ellen stirred. She rolled over and hit the side of the coffin. Confused, she opened one eye and found herself staring at wood. She rolled the other way and almost screamed when she saw wood on that side as well and she realised she was in a coffin. Had she been buried alive? Rolling onto her back she looked upwards and realised she was looking at stars. The lid was not on.
She lay still for a while, her memory slowly returning. It came in flashes. First she was in the Prince’s bedroom, explaining to the King that only magic could save his son. Next she was running, guards in pursuit. She recalled calling for Hawk while looking for somewhere to hide. Then she felt once more the sensation of a blade slicing across her throat and her hands instinctively grabbed her neck. Her fingers probed around her thorax and she was astounded to find no sign of injury. Had it all been a dream?
She sat up and looked around her. Her eyes fell onto Patrick’s body lying in the wagon beside the coffin and she let out a loud groan. Ria, who was sitting with the others near a fire close by, heard her and looked around. Seeing the new vampire sitting up made her panic and she screamed Hawk’s name, hoping he was within earshot. Ban was the first to his feet and he rushed to the wagon, jumping onto the back and pushing Ellen back down into the coffin as gently as he could.
