Ironcrown Moon (33 page)

==========

On Snudge’s orders, the guards at Elktor’s Mountain Gate had been questioned about strangers leaving the city late in the day. The officer who had been on duty clearly recalled a quarreling married couple mounted on mules—the man tall and robust, the wife petite and bristly about the chin. They had passed through shortly before the gate was locked for the night, even though the guards had urged them to wait until morning.

Heartened by this first solid evidence that the fugitives were in the area, Snudge told Count Olvan Elktor that he would use a map to guide his wind-voice, Vra-Mattis, in a fresh search. The two of them ascended to the top of the castle’s lofty north tower, and from that vantage point Snudge himself had labored for over three hours, nearly exhausting his limited store of energy in a futile scan of the land route to Roaring Gorge. Meanwhile, Mattis dozed peacefully at his master’s feet, wrapped in a frieze cloak against the persistent drizzle.

To Snudge, the shepherd’s path leading to Roaring Gorge had seemed the most logical way for the thieves to go. But the precipitous rock formations in the area proved a near-insurmountable barrier to his talent. The only living things he scried among the misty crags and ridges were animals.

Finding the boat was an unexpected piece of luck.

He had all but decided not to extend his search all the way to the gorge mouth, since it lay twelve leagues from Elktor, and there had hardly been time for the thieves to travel so far on such a difficult path. But wishing to complete the job he’d begun, he continued scrying the portions of the path most readily visible to his mind’s eye, and at length came to the broad stony beach at the outflow of the river. The abandoned livestock boat out in the shallows caught his attention almost at once, and his heart leapt with hope. The presence of horse droppings on the deck at least made it feasible that the vessel had transported Kilian and his party.

Intent on finding something to confirm his judgment, he focused more closely on the craft, even exerting himself to scry through the wooden bulkheads. He saw an empty wine bottle fallen into the scuppers. Its label revealed that it had held a fine Stippenese vintage—a beverage far too dear for the purses of lowly watermen.

A promising sign, but it wasn’t proof positive.

He inspected the cockpit, the deck where the horses had been penned, and the interior of the little cabin, finding nothing of interest. A

ladder had been positioned so that the roof of the deckhouse could be accessed, and something seemed to be caught on one of the rail stanchions up there, dangling down the opposite side.

Again he strained to scry through the wood, and realized he was looking at an iron gammadion on its chain…

file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/May,%20Julian%20-%20[Bo...-%20Boreal%20Moon%202%20-

%20Ironcrown%20Moon.html (113 of 228)2-2-2007 18:46:18

May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon

Snudge withdrew his sight and slumped down onto the parapet, drained by his efforts. Mattis
Page 125

was still asleep. The efficient castle steward had provided them with a covered basket containing a stoppered flask of spiced cider, bread rolls, and smoked goat-cheese. Snudge drank from the bottle and forced himself to chew several mouthfuls of bread. After a few minutes he felt himself recovering from the ordeal.

He now had a solid clue to the whereabouts of Kilian; but if the alchymist and his companions had gone into Roaring Gorge, there was probably no chance he’d be able to oversee them from here. They would have to be hunted by a ground party—and most probably not one including him and his people, unless King Conrig himself gave the order.

He reached out a hand to awaken Vra-Mattis and have him bespeak Gala Palace, then hesitated.

A wild notion had popped into his mind.

Rising to his feet, he walked across the flat roof of the tower to the opposite side. On his left soared the dark rampart of the Sinistral

Range. Rolling moorlands lay at the foot of the mountains and extended eastward, interspersed with isolated masses of upthrust rock similar to the tor on which the castle stood. There was a track down there that wound over the heath toward Beorbrook Hold.

What if the thieves had gone that way? What if something had prevented them from taking the fork in the track that led to the gorge, giving them no choice but to turn in the other direction?

Shutting his eyes and summoning his last reserve of talent, he focused his windsight once again.

==========

Conrig Wincantor brought his fist down with a bang on the table of the Council Chamber, causing Vra-Sulkorig, who was seated on his right, to blink in unspoken disapproval. The other chairs were empty and the table was littered with abandoned sheets of parchment, rolled charts, waxed tablets, and styluses. The candles in their gilt stands burned low.

“What do I care if he’s busy helping Vra-Mattis windsearch?” the king bellowed. “He can take a few minutes off to talk to his liege lord!

He should have given me a progress report yesterday. We wouldn’t even know that he’d reached Elktor if Ollie’s windvoice hadn’t had the sense to notify you.”

“Let me bespeak Vra-Alamor again, Your Grace. I’ll insist that he interrupt Sir Deveron.” The Keeper of Arcana drew his hood over his face and bowed his head.

Conrig sat back in his chair, fuming. It was well after midnight and he’d dismissed all the Privy Council members except Sulkorig, who was serving as deputy to Stergos, after a long but none-too-productive conference about the situation in Tarn. The king had felt it necessary to inform his advisers about Maudrayne’s possible survival after another windspoken message was relayed to the palace from the outlaw shaman, Blind Bozuk—this time through a different, and presumably less expensive, intermediary.

Bozuk claimed to know where Ansel was taking the princess. He was willing to part with the information in exchange for five thousand gold marks, which the shrewd magicker demanded be kept in escrow for him until Maudrayne’s capture. The Sovereignty’s Ambassador to Tarn, Lord Grendos Wed-morril, had no such enormous sum at his disposal. It would have to be borrowed—either from bankers in

Donorvale, who would demand punitive interest, or from the Tarnian Lord Treasurer, who would hem and haw and perhaps even insist on tax concessions. News of the extraordinary transaction was bound to spread quickly to Cathra via the financial grapevine, and the Lords of the Southern Shore would ask embarrassing public questions of the Crown.

Conrig had put the matter up to his Council: should he respond to Bozuk’s offer and obtain the money, or put the shaman off—at least for the time being—until the Royal Intelligencer was on the scene and in possession of all the facts?

The Council had waffled. In the end, Conrig decided to wait.

But he was not willing to wait for a report from Snudge. How dare the intelligencer remain incommunicado? He was supposed to report to the palace every evening, even if there were no new developments—

Page 126

Sulkorig straightened and pushed back his hood. “Your Grace, I’ve bespoken Vra-Mattis. He says that Sir Deveron has scried out the hiding place of one of the fire-raising thieves, Scarth Saltbeck. He has also located an abandoned boat at the head of Elk Lake, which was very likely used in the escape of Kilian Blackhorse from Zeth Abbey.”

file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/May,%20Julian%20-%20[Bo...-%20Boreal%20Moon%202%20-

%20Ironcrown%20Moon.html (114 of 228)2-2-2007 18:46:18

May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon

“Thank God!” cried the king, starting up from his chair at the head of the table. “Tell me more!”

“The man Saltbeck is hiding in a hut on the moors some eight leagues east of Elktor. A party of warriors, led by Deveron, will set out shortly to arrest him. When this is accomplished, Deveron will bespeak me personally with all details of the venture.”

“I trust that the miscreant has Darasilo’s Trove with him.”

“There would be no way to determine that, sire, until the thief is taken. Sigils cannot be scried.

Neither, I presume, can the two magical books, since they have moonstones on their covers.”

Scowling, Conrig expelled a noisy breath. “I’d forgotten. God grant that the entire trove be there in the hut, and the intelligencer is able to take it safely in hand!… What’s this about a boat?”

“Sir Deveron is convinced, from various clues he oversaw on the empty vessel, that it transported Kilian, his fellow-traitors, and their horses to Roaring Gorge at the head of Elk Lake. It’s possible that the chasm would provide an escape route into Didion for the whole gang of conspirators, provided they had an expert guide. When Kilian and his three friends fled the abbey, they took with them a young

Brother named Garon Curding. He belongs to a mountain clan and would likely know the gorge area well. A force led by Lord Olvan

Elktor will pursue Kilian and his companions—although the troops will have a hard time of it because of dangerous terrain and unfavorable weather.”

“I don’t give a damn whether Kilian escapes into Didion, so long as he doesn’t carry the Trove of Darasilo with him.” Conrig pulled a wry face. “I won’t sleep this night until I know whether Deveron’s pursuit is successful. Will you keep watch with me?”

Sulkorig rose. “Why don’t we go to Lord Stergos’s chambers, sire? We can wait comfortably in his sitting room without being disturbed.

If we receive good news, we can inform the Royal Alchymist at once. Lord Stergos would be greatly comforted. Perhaps he can also advise Sir Deveron how best to ensure the security of the recovered trove—no small matter, you’ll agree.”

“No,” Conrig agreed. “It’s not. I’ll have to give it careful thought myself.”

==========

They thundered down the steep road from Elktor Castle and galloped apace for the Shore Road and the Mountain Gate: six of the count’s most intrepid household knights and four times that number of men-at-arms, heedless of the misty drizzle that enveloped the countryside, intent upon apprehending at least one of the Sovereignty’s most wanted criminals. Snudge led the troop, with Vra-Mattis riding at his side. He had deemed the other members of his party too inexperienced to accompany him, and had left them behind in the castle, sound asleep and heedless of the climactic events now unfolding.

Persuading his eager host, Lord Olvan, to lead the hunt for Kilian rather than the more exciting apprehension of Scarth Saltbeck had been a touchy matter. Although the young nobleman was brave, generous, and of a cheerful disposition, Ollie Elktor’s character disastrously combined rash impetuosity with a truly monumental fatheadedness. His people loved him in spite of his flaws and were inclined to overlook his errors of judgment; and happily, these had become less egregious since the viscount’s redoubtable father, Earl Marshal
Page 127

Parlian Beorbrook, had installed a handpicked steward to manage the castle household and an iron-willed constable to maintain discipline among its knights and warriors.

Lord Olvan yearned with all his heart to go after the notorious villain who had fired Gala Palace; but in the end, even a valiant dullard such as he understood the reasons why Sir Deveron Austrey sent him in the opposite direction. Chasing a fugitive over the eastern moorlands presented no special tactical difficulties to a newcomer to the region, provided he had local men riding with him. Roaring

Gorge, on the other hand, was hazardous territory where specialized knowledge was vital to survival. Lord Olvan had actually ventured into the dreadful, haunted place a few times, if only for short distances. Sir Deveron knew nothing about the gorge, and confessed to being inexperienced in mountain travel to boot.

So Ollie manfully conceded the point. While Deveron and his men raced off on their lightning foray, the count assembled a larger force that was equipped for a long haul, and rode out at a more prudent pace an hour later. By then, Snudge was more than halfway to the croft where Scarth Saltbeck lay in a state of sodden insensibility.

file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/May,%20Julian%20-%20[Bo...-%20Boreal%20Moon%202%20-

%20Ironcrown%20Moon.html (115 of 228)2-2-2007 18:46:18

May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon

The truth was that the intelligencer had a stronger reason for not wanting Olvan—much less any of his sharper-minded lieutenants—

witnessing the arrest of Scarth. He intended that none of the Elktor people should ever know about the Trove of Darasilo, much less what he planned to do with the trove if he found it.

Before leaving the castle, he had begged its master mason to lend him a certain tool, saying vaguely that the thing might help in extracting the criminal from his hiding place. But if the opportunity arose, Snudge planned an entirely different use for the sledgehammer wrapped in sacking, which was now lashed to the back of his saddle.

==========

Being only human, Beynor dozed off.

His more vigilant inner self—or something—caused him to wake with a cry of dismay and a great start that set the briskly moving dinghy to wallowing.

What is wrong with you, groundling

? the Supreme Warrior inquired in a peevish tone, from somewhere under the river.

Did your execrably unappetizing meal disagree with you and bring on an evil dream

?

“Something like that,” Beynor muttered. The monsters had no notion what he’d been up to. His ability to invade dreams was a secret he didn’t intend to share.

How long had he been asleep? Long enough for Scarth’s binge to have worn off a little? He sent the thread of his oversight aloft on the wind, ranging west-southwest to the desolate highland region between Elktor and the Great North Road, to the tiny hut crouching in its rocky hollow, well out of sight of the only track. The mules stood their patient vigil amidst dripping junipers.

Inside the croft, the surviving renegade Brother had shifted his position slightly and started to snore. Behind their closed lids, his eyes were moving just a bit.

The spell of couverture was still extinct, but that was to be expected.