The common room was filled to capacity. The companions had managed to secure a table earlier in the evening and had thus far been loath to give it up. Two chairs remained empty at their table. One was for Kevik should he decide to come down and join them. He had claimed being rather tired and wished to rest in his room. The other was for Riyan who had gone across the room to talk with several of the locals. He was trying to find out if there was a cartographer in town who may have maps detailing the lands south of the border for sell.
Bart kept his eye on Riyan and was relieved when he finally finished speaking with the group of men and started back for their table. The look on his face said the conversation had yielded results.
“Well?” Bart asked as Riyan took his seat.
Leaning closer to be better heard over the noise of the common room, Riyan said, “I got directions to a master cartographer. They said he has maps of just about everywhere.”
“Sounds like what we need,” replied Bart. If they could procure maps of the area to the south, it would prove incredibly beneficial in their search.
Riyan nodded agreement. “I’ll take Kevik and Chad with me to the cartographer in the morning while you and the others check out the trading house.”
Chyfe joined their conversation and asked, “If we have a map showing where Hylith lies, do we really need to risk visiting the Orack trading house?”
“I think so,” replied Bart. “We could still learn something important.”
“Like what?” Chyfe asked. “It’s not as if we’re actually going to arrange a shipment of wine.”
Bart smiled at that. “Why not?” he asked. When Chyfe and Riyan glanced to him questioningly he added, “For one thing, it would give us an excuse for being down there.”
Riyan nodded. “You have a point,” he replied. “Maybe even just a letter of greeting to a wine merchant further south.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Bart said. Then he and the others turned their heads to look across the common room as the bard who had been on a break returned to the platform. Conversations began to fall away as the patrons came to realize he was returning. When the bard finally sat upon the stool and took up his instrument, an expectant hush fell over the crowd. He sat there a moment as the silence grew deeper and deeper. Then with a glance toward the onlookers, he grinned and launched into a rollicking tune.
Alone in his room, Kevik sat bent over his spell book at the small table. His staff was propped against the wall next to him, the light coming from the glow at its tip providing sufficient illumination to see the symbols and words written upon the pages. He much preferred to use the light of his staff over that of a candle. The light from the spell tended to be brighter and remained constant, no annoying flickering like a candle.
The page opened before him held one of the newest spells he had transcribed that last day he was at the Tower. It would provide the caster protection against magical attacks involving fire. He also had another that would do the same for cold which he would work on after this.
Kevik worked on making his pronunciation of the symbols and words of the spell roll off the tongue as if they were born of his native speech. What many people outside of the magical community failed to understand was that the symbols were a language all their own. The exact same symbol would often be pronounced differently depending on where it fell within the spell. Which symbol came before or after it could also alter its pronunciation.
When a magic user practiced a new spell and didn’t want to actually cast it, he had to do it piecemeal. Most spells were easily broken into sections, at least the ones he’d come across thus far in his studies. A magic user would work on the individual sections before putting them all together. The wrong inflection or timbre of the voice at any point could leave you with a spell that didn’t do anything. Or worse, have an unexpected, potentially lethal affect.
The most common affect Kevik had experienced so far was an explosion. You see, once the magical energies begin to formulate, they have to go somewhere and usually in a volatile manner. Fortunately, most of the time the spell just fizzled out before sufficient magical energy had been generated.
Both of the protective spells were exactly the same as the spell that protected the castor against missiles. The only difference was a set of three symbols near the end which designated the desired effect. He had the basic spell perfected, and now he could interchange the type of protection by substituting the different symbols. Of course, some protections required a different format of spell. Protection from a death spell would require a much more powerful format than what he was using here.
It’s kind of like building a house. If all you wanted to put on the foundation was a single room of wood, you could use just about anything. But if you wanted to build a castle, you would need something much sturdier. Kevik understood that the format he was currently utilizing was the most basic. If he wished for a more powerful protection spell, he would need to learn a more advanced format.
Irregardless, what was before him would suit his needs at the moment. These spells, along with others he planned to learn, would enable him to successfully pass the Wielder Test at the Tower once the mandatory year in which to wait between tests was over. Or at least he hoped these would suffice. He wasn’t about to wait any longer than absolutely necessary before standing within the Well of Thought once more.
For over an hour he worked on the three symbols denoting fire protection. When he felt he had them down, he attempted to cast the spell. A shimmering appeared before him just as it had with the spell that protected the caster from missiles. It looked exactly the same. There was no real way to test the spell until he was faced with an attack. Had his master still lived, he could have tested it against one of his master’s offensive spells. But that option was no longer available to him. He’ll have to trust in the fact that he had incorporated the correct symbols into the spell properly, and that the spell had worked. The shimmering field had appeared as it was meant to after all.
Excited at having successfully mastered a new spell, he canceled it and began working on the symbols for cold. An hour later, another shimmering field appeared as he cast the spell which incorporated the symbols for cold. Canceling the spell, he closed his spell book, leaned back in his chair, and stretched. Oh yes, he was proud of himself. Now, for a little practice.
He stood up and proceeded to move the furniture of the room against the walls to create a cleared area in the middle. Once there was enough room for what he planned to do, he walked into the cleared area and took a calming breath. Then in his mind’s eye, he imagined several attackers spaced about the room. Casting his first protection spell, the battle was joined.
Imagined spears of fire would hurl at him only to be met with a quickly conjured field of protection. The fire spears would be deflected away only to be replaced with the arrows of a bowman. Another protective field would materialize to deflect that attack. Over and over, Kevik cast his protective spells as quickly as he could. His master had stated over and over that such practice was vital to a magic user’s continued existence. If in a pinch you were unable to quickly and accurately cast your spells, you were dead. So over and over, fields of protection would materialize only to disappear and be replaced by another.
After a quarter hour of this, he began to feel fatigued. ‘Are you tired?’ his master used to ask during similar practices back when he was alive. Not giving in to the fatigue, Kevik began incorporating more spells into his practice. Lights would flare, bobbing spheres began dancing about the room, as more and more imaginary attackers joined the fray. Sweat began to form upon his brow.
Suddenly, the door to the room opened and a figure appeared. So caught up in his ‘battle’, he reacted without thought. Firing a bolt of energy, he took the figure square in the chest. The force of the blow was such that the figure was thrown back across the hallway and slammed into the wall on the other side. Riyan’s cry of pain brought Kevik back to reality.
Bart ran into the room with a dart in hand. “What’s going on?” he demanded, fully expecting an attack to materialize.
In the doorway, Chad and Chyfe stood with swords drawn as Soth bent over Riyan and inspected his chest.
Kevik was shocked by the fact his magic had struck out at Riyan. “I…I was practicing,” he said.
From the hallway they heard Soth say, “He’s alright. Though his chest is a bit red.”
Rushing past Bart, Kevik shouldered his way between Chad and Chyfe on his way to Riyan’s side. “I’m so sorry,” he said as he knelt by his side.
Riyan opened his eyes and looked up at him. “Forget it,” he said. He sat up against the wall and groaned.
Kevik produced the red healing gem and said, “Let me take care of it.”
Shaking his head, Riyan waved him away and said, “That’s alright. It isn’t that bad.”
“But…” Kevik stammered.
“Just some stinging is all,” he said.
Coming up behind Kevik, Chad said, “You better be more careful next time.”
“Yeah man,” Seth said. “Lock the door or something.”
“I’ll do that,” agreed Kevik. He looked on as Riyan got to his feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
Riyan nodded in reply. “Can barely feel it,” he said with a grin.
“Liar,” Chad said. “I saw how you flew across the hall and hit the wall. You can’t tell me it’s nothing.”
“It is, now let’s not say anything more about it,” Riyan said.
Chyfe had made his way into the room. He then glanced back out to the hallway where Kevik still knelt by Riyan’s side. “You sure did a number in here,” he said.
Everyone moved into the room and saw how black marks scored the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. “Got a little carried away did you?” Bart asked when he saw the state of the room.
“I guess so,” he said. With everyone looking at him, he continued. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been able to practice like this. I guess I got more into it than I had planned.”
“I would say so,” agreed Riyan. He clapped him on the back. “From now on, let us know when you’re doing this and we’ll stay away.”
“Okay,” replied Kevik. He still felt bad about what he did to Riyan and was glad he hadn’t done anything very serious to his friend.
Kevik and Riyan remained in the room as it was the one they were sharing. The others began filing out to theirs.
While Riyan made ready for bed, Kevik put his spell book back in his pack and propped his staff against the wall by the bed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you practice that way before,” Riyan commented. Crawling under the blanket, he glanced over to Kevik.
“To be honest,” Kevik admitted, “I’ve been a bit lax in my practice.” The light from his staff kept the room illuminated as he too crawled into bed. “The spells I knew when we first met had been repeatedly worked at and ingrained into me by my master. Now with these new spells I have to keep ‘honed’ I guess you’d call it. In an emergency I’m not going to have time to open my spell book. I’ll need to react fast, and react correctly.”
Riyan nodded. “I guess our two crafts aren’t as different as one would think,” he said.
“Both require hard work and determination if one is to succeed,” agreed Kevik. He then canceled the staff’s light spell and they settled down to sleep.
For Kevik, sleep didn’t come right away. His earlier practice of working on spells and the pronunciation of symbols had left him wondering about the five symbols they found on the island near Catha. He still didn’t have a clue as to what they were or the affect they may produce. But he got to thinking that maybe they were like the symbols that he could interchange for his protection spell. If so, then all he would need was a sufficiently powerful spell in which to plug them in. He was certain that the current one he was using would be insufficient. There could be one in the other libraries of the Tower, but it may be years before he gained sufficient rank to be allowed access to them.
Thoughts of wondrous magic coursed through his mind until sleep finally claimed him.
After the morning meal in the common room, they split up as Riyan, Kevik, and Chad went in search of the cartographer, while Bart and the rest headed back to Kell Plaza and the Orack trading house.
Riyan led his group through the streets as he followed the directions given to him the night before by the group of locals he talked with. “They said it was located next to a park on the eastern side of town,” he told Kevik and Chad.
After working their way through the streets of Kendruck for half an hour, they made further inquiries of other locals when they hadn’t come across it yet. It didn’t take long after that before the small park came into view.
It wasn’t much, just half a block of grass, bushes, and trees with cobblestone paths running through them. A couple benches could be seen spaced about the park where people could take their ease.
“Must be something in the springtime,” commented Kevik. Indeed, with winter in full force, most of the trees were barren of leaves, and snow still held a presence in the shadier areas.
Riyan noticed a building off to their left which bore a sign depicting a quill superimposed over a boot. “That’s it,” he said. Quill and boot was the cartographer’s sign. Quill for the drawing of the map, and boot for the traveling done in acquisition of the information.
Most cartographers have many apprentices who are sent out to gather pertinent data of an area which was then added to maps. Another way cartographers gained a variety of maps, was to copy them from the existing maps of others. Some maps have been around for a long time and can at times not be very accurate. An honest cartographer would tell his customers of maps in his possession which may be less than reliable. Usually if one has a good reputation with the locals, you could trust his maps.
They went up to the door and entered. The shop wasn’t very large, it held but a single table situated in the middle of the room and a door in the far wall leading to a rear room. Scores of shelves dotted the walls with rolled maps stacked in neat piles upon them. Several maps were displayed on the walls between the shelves. Other than the maps, shelves, and table, the place was deserted.
“Where’s the cartographer?” questioned Chad.
Riyan indicated the door in the far wall. “Maybe in the back,” he said.
Kevik shut the door and they moved further into the shop.
“Look at this,” Riyan said as he moved to one of the maps displayed on the wall. It was a map of a city. The name on it read ‘Yerou’. “Yerou?” he asked. Glancing back at the other two he asked, “Ever heard of it?” Chad and Kevik both shook their heads no.
Yerou was a large city with a massive defensive wall surrounding it. The keep was positioned in the upper section of town. Kevik was interested in the tower that rose beside it. He peered closer to the words written at the bottom of the tower. “Kylon’s Tower,” he murmured. The name seemed familiar but he couldn’t remember from where.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked from behind them.
Turning around, Riyan saw a youthful looking young man who couldn’t be more than twenty years old. “Are you the cartographer?” he asked.
The young man shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I am one of his journeymen.” He glanced at the three of them in turn before asking, “Are you in need of a map?”
“Wouldn’t be here for any other reason,” quipped Chad.
The journeyman nodded understandingly.
“We were looking to purchase one showing the lands to the south,” explained Riyan.
“Are you interested in just the area along the border?” the journeyman asked. “Or deeper into the Moran Tribes?”
“So you do have maps of that area?” asked Chad.
“Of course,” the young man said. Then he turned his attention back to Riyan.
“Can I see a couple of what you have?” Riyan asked. “I’m not exactly sure what our needs are going to be.”
Nodding, the journeyman went over to one of the shelves and removed three maps. Each was rolled and secured with a bit of twine. He carried them over to the table and removed the twine from one of them.
“This map shows the lands of the border between Byrdlon and the Moran Tribes,” he explained. Unrolling it, he held it open for them to see. It did show the borderlands in great detail, but not much else beyond it.
“Is there one that shows further into the Tribes?” Riyan asked.
The journeyman nodded again. He then rolled the map back up and secured the twine around it. Setting it aside, he picked up the second map and soon had it unrolled on the table before them. “This one gives an overall depiction of the terrain for a hundred miles south of the border,” he said.
Riyan gazed at the map and thought this might do. He looked closely at names of the few towns represented on the map for any sign of Hylith, the place they believed to be the city where the lords of the Orack Tribe live.
He followed the road that led south out of Kendruck and found Hylith to be situated on the south side of a lake some distance from the border. Riyan nodded to himself, then glanced to Kevik.
“This will do,” Kevik stated.
“I think so too,” agreed Riyan. Turning to the journeyman cartographer, he said, “How much?”
“A gold and six silver,” he stated.
Riyan’s eyes widened at the price.
“Why so much?” asked Chad. He too felt the map would prove useful for them, but a gold six?
“It takes time to carefully draw a map,” the young man explained. “Meticulous attention to detail must be maintained for the map to be accurate.”
“Where’s Sandlun?” Kevik suddenly interjected.
“What?” Riyan asked as he turned to the magic user.
“Sandlun,” repeated Kevik. “The town that was sacked some months ago.”
The journeyman indicated a place southeast of Kendruck. “Here,” he said.
Riyan looked at the spot for a moment then handed over the coins for the map.
“Thank you,” the apprentice said as he took the coins. “Would you care to look at any other maps?”
“No,” replied Riyan. Rolling up the map, he placed it inside his pack. “I think this will be all we need.”
“If you should ever require another,” the journeyman said, “remember that Orren’s maps are the best and most accurate.”
“We will,” Riyan assured him before turning to head for the door. Once they were outside and heading back to the inn, he asked Kevik why he had asked about Sandlun.
He shrugged and said, “I was curious.”
Riyan grinned. “Let’s hurry back and see if Bart has met with any success at the trading house.” But when they got back to the inn, they found that he hadn’t.
Bart was not in a very good mood. “They wouldn’t even talk to us,” he told them. “We had no sooner entered the building when two Tribesmen came and said we had to leave. I tried to explain why we were there, but they quickly ushered us out and shut the door.”
“At least we have the map,” Chad said. At which point Riyan produced it and spread the map out on one of the tables.
Once it was unrolled, Riyan pointed to Kendruck. “Here’s where we are,” he stated. Then his finger began following the road heading south. “If we follow this road, it will eventually take us to Hylith.” His finger continued to follow the road until it came to the city.
“Then what?” asked Chyfe.
Riyan glanced up from the map and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Once we get there, what do we plan to do?” he asked. “If what we can expect from the locals is anything like what we experienced at the trading house, things could get dicey.”
“Play it by ear,” Bart said. “We should have an idea of what to expect by the time we get there.”
“Then once we are there,” continued Riyan, “try to locate the last segment of the key.”
“How?” asked Chyfe.
“The previous two keys we found were both secreted beneath ruins dating back to the time of the King,” he explained. “All we have to do is locate such ruins in the area and get it.”
“But there could be ruins all over the place!” asserted Chyfe. “And even if we find such, there’s no guarantee that the segment will lie within.”
“But they all won’t have the coat of arms that we are looking for,” interjected Soth. “Each of the previous two were found in ruins bearing one of the coats of arms. All we need to do is find an area bearing the final coat of arms and we’re in business.”
“All the while the locals could be after our blood,” added Seth. “You know what is said about the Tribesmen, and our visit to the trading house only proved its validity. They’re not tolerant of strangers.”
Bart removed the wine bottle that he had taken with them to the trading house. “All we can do is but try,” he said, then held the bottle up before the others. “We’ll be agents of a merchant looking to acquire a contract for quantities of this wine.”
“Might work,” Riyan said. Even Chyfe agreed it was worth a shot.
The rest of the morning and afternoon, they spent restocking their supplies. Then when the sun rose the following morning to a sky all but devoid of clouds, they rode through the southern gates on their way to Hylith.