The Broken Key (02) - Hunter of the Horde (3 page)

This new tunnel he was following made a gradual turn to the right. Once it straightened out again, Bart knew he would be less than a hundred feet from the Spider’s Nest. He started counting his steps again when all of a sudden, his foot hit a bucket that sat directly in his path.

Out of sheer reflex he jumped backwards. A second later sparks flew as either a knife or a sword struck the wall where his head had just been. The bucket had been used to signal whoever was lying in wait as to his presence. He would have appreciated the ingenuity of the whole thing if whoever it was wasn’t trying to kill him.

He back stepped three paces then grew still. In the dark, he had to use his ears to determine where his opponent stood. While he was listening for any movement of the other, he threw the dart that was held in readiness towards where he thought his opponent may be. A moment later he heard it clatter on the stone floor of the sewer tunnel.

Still keeping the three darts in his left hand, he pulled forth his knife from its scabbard and waited. From just before him, he heard the whish of a sword cutting through air as his attacker tried to find him. With great speed, he leaped forward and knocked the man to the ground. Before his opponent had a chance to retaliate, Bart thrust his knife into the man’s chest. He used his left arm to immobilize the man’s sword arm while he thrashed about in his death throes. Once the man grew still, Bart wiped clean his knife then stood back up.

He held still for a second to see if Einter and his bunch had heard the scuffle. When it didn’t sound as if they were coming to investigate, Bart continued on his way. It wasn’t long before he could make out light coming from up ahead where the tunnel curved to the right.

It wasn’t far past that curve to where the Spider’s Nest lay. The fact there was light coming from that direction gave him hope that the Master had already arrived. He quickened his step as he hurried forward and reached the area where the tunnel finished its curve. From there he again slowed his pace as it was entirely possible someone could be lying in wait for him just before the entrance to the Spider’s Nest. Until he had the Master’s word of safe conduct, he was still fair game. Knowing the Master as he did, he wouldn’t receive that until he set foot within the Spider’s Nest.

He pressed himself against the right side of the tunnel and crept forward. As he followed the tunnel around the curve, the light grew stronger. Before he had made it all the way around the curve, he saw a man standing ten feet this side of the entrance to the Spider’s Nest.

The man was currently talking with two others who were standing there next to him and had yet to take notice of Bart. He moved forward ever so slightly until he could see past the three men into the Spider’s Nest. The Master wasn’t in his line of sight, but he did make out one of the two swordsmen that always accompanied him for protection. If he was here, so must the Master.

He stood there gauging his chances of breaking through the three men when from behind him, he heard the sound of many running feet splashing through the sewer muck towards him. Looking back, he saw Einter and his bunch coming his way. They said not a word so as to not alert anyone else to Bart’s presence.

Bart no longer had a choice. He turned and bolted towards the Spider’s Nest, it was all or nothing now. The three men between him and safety were quick to see him coming and stood ready. Each bore a shield, most likely in anticipation of his darts. In their hands they held longswords. Beyond them, he saw those within the Spider’s Nest turn to look in his direction. One of them was the Master.

“Stop, Bart,” one of the men barring his way commanded. “You’ll never get through.”

“Ha!” replied Bart as he threw his first dart at the one who spoke.

The man raised his shield to block the dart but then cried out. When he had raised the shield to block the first dart, Bart had thrown a second one lower and took him in the leg.

The other two men charged forward.

“He’s mine!” yelled Einter when he saw the other two men coming for Bart. “Touch him and you die!” At that Einter’s men screamed and raised their weapons threateningly as they rushed forward.

Bart ignored him. He threw another dart at the man on the right before him but it was deflected by his shield. Then to Bart’s surprise, both men went down. When they hit the floor he saw that each had a knife sticking out of their backs.

“Come on Bart!” yelled Terk.

He looked up to see Terk and three others whom he knew well standing at the entrance to the Spider’s Nest.

“Terk!” Einter cried out, “I’ll kill you!”

Bart raced forward and entered the Spider’s Nest. “I ask for Parley!” he shouted to the Master.

Every eye in the Spider’s Nest turned to the Master. Until he agreed to the Parley, Bart was still fair game. Then he nodded. “Parley.” Just then, Einter and his men entered the Spider’s Nest. “Give me that pack Bart!” Einter ordered.

“No,” he replied as he turned to face Einter and his bunch. “I am under the protection of Parley!”

Einter apparently didn’t care anything about Parley. He moved forward with sword drawn and bloodlust in his eyes.

“Stay where you are!” the Master’s voice boomed forth.

Einter came to a halt and stared at the Master. “What do I care about a stupid custom like Parley?” he asked with derision. “I’m taking that pack!” His eyes returned to the pack Bart was carrying as he moved forward.

The Master nodded to one of his two swordsmen who then moved to stand between Einter and Bart. “Kill him if he comes another step closer.” All eyes turned to Einter. He had come to a stop and licked his lips. Behind him, his men had begun backing off. None of them dared to brave the wrath of the Master, to do so typically meant your death.

Greed overcame Einter’s fear of death and he said to the now nonexistent men behind him, “Get him boys.” He moved forward one step and the swordsman whipped his sword from out of its scabbard and sheared off Einter’s head in one fluid motion. Once the body fell, the swordsmen wiped off his blade on Einter’s clothes then returned to the side of the Master.

“Now,” the Master announced to all those present, “I believe Bart and I have some business to transact.”

Now that Bart was safely under the protection of the Master and the excitement was over, the gathered thieves began dispersing until only a little over a dozen were left. Terk and his three men came to stand near Bart.

Bart gave them a nod of thanks for what they did for him then removed his pack. He held it in his hand as he met the Master’s gaze. “I am here to have the death mark that was placed upon me removed.”

“The price is fifteen thousand gold sovereigns,” the Master said.

Bart tossed the pack and it landed a foot from the Master’s feet. “You’ll find it all there,” he said.

The Master glanced to the pack then motioned for one of the older men standing off to the side to come forward. “Check it,” the Master said.

The older thief nodded then began going through the contents of the pack. It was full of gems and gold coins. Bart fervently hoped there would be enough in there. No one spoke a word while the man tallied the contents. When at last he was through, he turned to the Master and nodded. “The contents of the pack are sufficient to meet the price.” Bart sighed in relief after the man announced that it was enough.

The Master turned his gaze back to Bart. “Bartholomew Agreani,” he said. “The death mark is lifted. We will no longer seek your death so long as you do nothing from this point on to warrant it.”

“I won’t,” Bart said.

“What is done is past,” the Master said to all those who remained. “Let the word go forth that Bartholomew Agreani is no longer a marked man.”

“Thank you,” Bart told him.

The Master gave him a crooked smile and nodded. “I’m glad you made it.” Bart returned the smile and replied. “So am I, Father.”
Chapter One

_______________________

Dear Mother,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am sorry that I have taken so long in writing you,
you must be frantic by now. Chad and I are well. In fact, we have both been accepted
into the Warriors Guild here in Gilbeth. Our training is hard, harder than I could have
ever imagined. I’m sure that by the time I return to Quillim, you’ll hardly recognize me.

Chad asked if you could send his regards to his family and let them know he’s
alright. We’re not sure how much longer our training here will take. You see, they won’t
allow us to leave until we are and I quote, ‘A credit to the Guild and won’t get ourselves
killed the moment we walk out the door’. They tell us that we’re progressing well, but
who knows what that really means.

I have not forgotten about Freya and still plan to somehow change her father’s mind
about her engagement with Rupert. How, I’m not yet sure. But I’m still working on it.

Don’t let her change the date!

Riyan looked up from the letter as Chad stuck his head into the room. The room held eight beds, of which two were assigned to Chad and Riyan. Six other ‘Recruits’ lived in here with them. Each bed had a chest at the end where they could store their belongings.

Riyan was currently sitting at one of the two tables in the room.

“You better hurry,” warned Chad. “You don’t want to be late again.” Riyan nodded. “I’ll be just a moment.”

“See you there,” Chad said as his head disappeared and he hurried down the hallway.

Riyan returned his attention back to the letter…

I must go now or face the unpleasant consequences of being late to drills. I’m
sending some coins, I hope they will help. These will be the last I will be able to send for
some time. I love you and miss you mother.

Your son,

Riyan

He quickly folded the letter and placed it in the small box with the coins he was sending to his mother. Getting up from the table, he moved to the chest at the foot of his bed and placed the box inside. Later that night he would meet the merchant in the Guild’s foyer who said he would deliver it to her for two coppers seeing as he had some business up that way.

Bart shut the lid of the chest and raced out of the room. He practically flew down the corridor as he hurried to beat the Drillmaster to the courtyard. When he passed through the door and entered the courtyard, he could see the twenty three other Recruits already in position. A quick glance showed him the Drillmaster had yet to make an appearance.

Chad mouthed ‘hurry up’. Riyan nodded and went to the rack where the swords they used for drills were stored. He pulled the last one from the rack and quickly crossed over to his place next to Chad. The instant after he took his position, the Drillmaster entered the courtyard from the opposite side.

He glared at Riyan but didn’t say anything. Once the Drillmaster took his place, they began. “Swords at the ready!” he shouted.

Riyan raised his sword. His arm had to be parallel to the ground from shoulder to elbow. The elbow was to be slightly bent and the sword held at a forty five degree angle.

Getting the sword into position was second nature by this time, continuing to hold it there took some effort.

You see, the sword weighed almost three times what a normal sword would. It was dull but balanced well. They were fat, unsightly pieces of iron that the Recruits used during certain of their drills.

They always began the drill with holding their swords at the ready while reciting back the Code of the Warrior when called upon. And woe to the Recruit who failed to recite the requested code back perfectly.

“Barin!” their Drillmaster shouted. “Third Code of the Warrior.” Barin, a lad of about sixteen summers whom Chad and Riyan had come to know well, shouted back, “The Third Code of the Warrior states, ‘Fleeing the battle while your comrades remain is the worst form of cowardice.’”

“And what is the punishment for breaking the Third Code?” the Drillmaster asked.

“Loss of the right thumb!” Barin shouted back.

“Very good,” he said. Then he began pacing in front of the recruits. “Chadric! First Code!”

“The First Code of the Warrior states, ‘Honor above life. To break an oath, whether spoken or otherwise, destroys the warrior.’”

The Drillmaster paused in his pacing as he turned his gaze to Chad. “And the punishment?”

“There can be only one punishment for the breaking of the First Code,” he replied.

“And that is?” asked the Drillmaster.

“Death.”

“Always remember that,” said the Drillmaster. “A warrior without honor is nothing.

A warrior who hurts the helpless is nothing. A warrior who breaks his oath is lower than the belly of a snake. Such must be sought out and destroyed!” The punishments for breaking the various codes were supposed to be carried out by other Guild members whenever they discovered the infraction. Though Riyan doubted if they were enforced all that stringently, rather being a measure through which they could gauge themselves.

The Drillmaster was a very intimidating looking man. Standing six foot three, his bald head overshadowed all of the Recruits. His body showed dozens of scars received from battles he’s fought and survived.

They continued holding their swords at the ready for another ten minutes, all the while shouting out various Codes the Drillmaster requested. By this time, the Recruits have the first twenty Codes of the Warrior memorized. That was all that is required of them at this stage.

After their ten minutes was over, they were broken into various groups that begun working at different drills. They rotated through them at half hour intervals for the rest of the day. While they were working at drills such as striking logs or hitting mock opponents, they used their ugly, fat swords. During the times when they were faced off against an opponent, they used wooden swords that only left bruises.

Other men came during their drills and assisted the Drillmaster in showing them various techniques used when wielding a sword. One of the first things they were taught was the proper way to grip the sword. Riyan remembered that day well.