this . . . emissary of yours. What worries me is that it’s not at all clear what this Master wants. And he has as many worshipers as you could wish for. The servants of the Nameless One are caught pretty regularly, but so far they haven’t caught a single one of the Master’s minions.”
“They’ve never even heard of them.”
“Exactly. And that indicates highly organized contacts, a secret conspiracy, and other such arrangements that make it possible for sects to survive when they’re not welcome in this respectable kingdom of ours. Things look bad, kid.” For shook his head. “I’ll keep on thinking and searching, and maybe I’ll dig something up in the archives. And in the meantime I’ll give you a piece of good advice.”
“For free?” I asked, chuckling mischievously with my mouth full.
“Well, I’m not Sagot, am I, to go taking gold pieces from you! You are my pupil after all.”
“Well, thanks for that, at least.”
“You’re welcome. Especially since you’re not the only one who’s been left out of pocket for receiving our god’s advice,” For said with a sudden chuckle.
“I don’t believe it,” I said, leaning back in my chair and looking hard at him. “Are you really hinting that . . .”
“That I’ve talked to him, too? Yes, it happened. And I had to pay out a gold piece, too.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well . . . ,” For began reluctantly, chuckling. “I had a talk with him just before I met you and Bass.”
“Oh!” I said, beginning to realize what he was about to say.
“Yes, ‘oh’ indeed! Sagot advised me to take you both on as pupils! It wasn’t even advice. Once he had his gold piece, he told me who he was and simply ordered me to do it. So that was how it happened. Although it seems like he was a bit off target with Bass.” He frowned. “Anyway, I shouldn’t have brought it up. What were we talking about?”
“Advice.”
“Well then, this is my piece of free advice for you: Don’t leave matters to the mercy of the gods, go and see this Bolt. If the old man recognized the ring that the thieves showed him we’ll find out who this influential figure serving the Master is.”
“It’s too late now,” I said, glancing out of the window at the darkening sky. “The library’s closed, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Better not. I doubt if the old man ever leaves. He probably sleeps there. Better call round to Grok Square before you get on with your business. I think he’ll open the door for you. No point in putting it off. The Master is playing his own game, and all we know about it is that he wants to kill you, which makes him too dangerous by half. And it seems to me that the last thing he wants is for Harold to go after that Horn.”
“You’re thinking about him ordering the papers to be destroyed and telling the duke to influence the king?”
“Uh-huh. I think the order to influence Stalkon was to try to persuade him that it’s pointless going into Hrad Spein. Or simply to get rid of His Majesty.”
The clearer the situation became, the less I liked it. “All right, I’ll think about it,” I said as I watched For suddenly get up from the table and go into the next room.
Events had woven themselves into a tight tangle of snakes. Now they were winding themselves tight around me and turning my skin cold. I just hoped that none of these snakes would bite!
For came back a few minutes later, carrying two massive bronze candlesticks in his hands, each with five lighted candles in it. The timing was just right; the sun had almost set and twilight had already begun creeping into the room with lazy impudence. The bright light of ten candles forced the gloom to move back, and it huddled into the very darkest corner of the room.
“Well then, I’ve heard your story. Now let’s deal with what you brought back from the Forbidden Territory.” For showed me the papers I’d taken from the Tower of the Order. “While you were sleeping, I took a look through these documents. There’s a lot that’s interesting. . . . But you know, kid, none of it’s any good to you. Yes, there’s a map of Hrad Spein, and even a plan of how to get to the Horn, but it’s . . . it’s suicide. It’s practically impossible to make it along the route that you have to follow. You study the old maps yourself when you have the time, and you’ll realize how unrealistic it is. Hundreds of halls, passages, shafts. And that’s only down to the eighth level. These papers don’t even show what’s lower down. Here, take them.”
For pushed the maps toward me.
“Let them stay here for the time being, you hide them somewhere safe, I’ll pick them up before I leave,” I said to him.
“That’s up to you,” said For, raking the papers back across the table. “Ah, by the way. I found an amusing little page among these notes, look.”
I took the old, yellowed piece of paper.
“What is it?”
“It’s ancient orcish. I had to sweat over the dictionary a bit to translate it. There’s a lot I still don’t understand—the orcs’ language is a bit of a tangle—but I managed it, even though it’s probably not quite as fluent as it ought to be. It was in verse. Something like a series of clues. A total riddle. Read it.”
For handed me a piece of paper with the translation.
First born of an ogre on the wide snowy plains,
