“Yes my lord,” the rider replied. “When we rounded the outcropping, his horse was there, but he wasn’t.”
“Idiots!” shouted Lord Kueryn. “Lord Hurrin,” he said as he turned to where the lord rode. “Send your men out to find him. We cannot let him escape.”
“As you wish,” Lord Hurrin replied. In a moment, riders were thundering up the trail toward the outcropping in search of the hunter.
“I don’t think we have much to worry about from him,” Erz assured him. “He cares nothing for others, only his mountains.”
Lord Kueryn ignored him.
When they reached the outcropping, they found the narrow trail they had been following opened up onto a gently downward sloping hillside. The panoramic view was breathtaking as it seemed the entire world opened up below them. Far below, a road wended its way through the hills as it moved east to west.
Men were combing the hillside and the upper reaches of the outcropping. “My lord,” one man said as he approached them. “He’s vanished!”
“Nonsense,” replied Lord Hurrin. “He couldn’t have just up and disappeared.”
“But he has,” the man replied. “We’ve searched everywhere.”
Then, from high atop the outcropping above them, laughter rang forth. “I thought you might try something like this!” The silhouette of the hunter Burdy was easily recognized.
“How did he get up there so fast?” questioned Erz.
“Kill him,” Lord Kueryn said to his magic user.
“Yes my lord,” replied Geffen. Raising his staff high, he began speaking arcane words of magic. As the words were spoken, the temperature around him began dropping fast. What had been merely cold now grew to be bitterly cold, and still the temperature dropped. Then when the last word was spoken, it seemed as if spears of ice shot forth toward the hunter.
Even as the first spear shot forth, Burdy leapt from the outcropping and disappeared behind it.
More arcane words issued forth as the spears of ice arced several feet above the outcropping, then began moving down the other side in pursuit.
The ground began to shake as Geffen continued speaking. Then, when the last word rolled off his lips, there was a final, massive movement of the ground. Those men still on the outcropping leaped for their lives.
Crack!
The outcropping broke from the mountain, crumbling into hundreds of smaller rocks, some quite large. With a roar, they began rolling and sliding in the direction Burdy had fled.
Erz stood transfixed as he watched what once had been a massive, single piece of rock, disintegrate before his eyes.
When the rumbling finally ceased, they went and stood at the edge. In the canyon below, they saw the path of destruction wrought by the landslide. The trail they had been following was gone. Nothing could have lived through such destruction.
“Very good,” Lord Kueryn said to Geffen.
Geffen gave him a slight bow. “Thank you my lord,” he replied.
“Now,” he said as he turned toward Erz, “there is just one more loose end to deal with before we depart.”
“What would that…?” he began, then saw Lord Kueryn draw his sword. “No!” he screamed as the lord’s intention became clear. Striking quick and true, Lord Kueryn’s sword sliced through his neck, severing the head from the body. Sliding from his horse, Erz’s torso fell to the ground.
Producing a cloth, Lord Kueryn cleaned the blood from his blade. Once cleaned, he tossed the cloth to the ground where it landed on Erz’s headless torso. Resheathing his blade, he turned to Lord Hurrin. “Let’s go.” As the riders returned to their horses and made ready to get underway, Lord Hurrin sent several down the slope to scout ahead.
Next to Lord Kueryn, Geffen produced the dart with which he had been struck back in Hylith. Casting a locater spell, he had the dart point to its previous owner’s current position. Moving on his palm, the dart indicated him to be almost due east. Exactly how far couldn’t be determined.
“Excellent,” said Lord Kueryn as he saw the dart pointing the way. Nudging his horse into motion, he and the others began making their way from the mountains to the hills below.
“One of the scouts returns,” Lord Hurrin announced. Now two hours from where the body of Erz lay, they were making their way through the low lying hills on the north side of the Tinderlock Mountains. They had to be careful as they were completely in Byrdlon territory now.
Turning toward the oncoming rider, Lord Kueryn brought them to a halt and waited for the approach of the rider.
“My lord,” the rider said once he drew near. “Riders to the north.”
“How many?” Lord Hurrin asked.
“At least a score,” the scout replied. Pausing only a moment, he added, “They wear the uniform of Byrdlon.”
“Are they aware of our presence?” asked Lord Kueryn.
Just then, they saw the soldiers of which the scout spoke cresting a hill to the north. It was clear they were heading straight for them.
“I believe so my lord,” the scout said.
Lord Kueryn remained where he was and watched them approach. As the scout had said, they wore the uniforms of Byrdlon. A murmur began running through his men as the soldiers approached which he quickly squelched.
When the soldiers drew near, they slowed then came to a stop. One rider with red hair and a scar across the bridge of his nose continued forward. A captain by the insignia he wore, he came to within two yards of Lord Kueryn before stopping.
“I was getting worried my lord,” Captain Lyrun said.
“There’s been a change in plans,” Lord Kueryn replied.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In an inn some miles south of Wardean, seven men took their ease in the common room. The Twin Oaks wasn’t what one would call a fashionable establishment or even above average, but for a roadside inn it was adequate. The lone girl who saw to their needs was quite the chatterbox. Any little comment set her off.
At the moment, she was regaling the men with local gossip as she occupied what had been an empty chair at their table. “…given the number of people who have spoken of the King’s Horde having been found, I’d say it was true. Though of course I haven’t actually seen it myself, being stuck here…er, I mean, having the privilege of serving such wonderful gentlemen as yourselves.”
“You said there were troubles in Quillim?” asked Riyan. They had heard disquieting rumors from different people during the last couple days, and he was quite concerned about his mother, Freya, and all the other people he grew up with.
“Troubles?” she asked. “I heard that all manner of men have been drawn to the area, most being those who you wouldn’t want to run into on a dark night let me tell you. But since Duke Alric sent soldiers to the area, things have quieted down. In fact, though I don’t know because I haven’t actually been there, or anywhere else for that matter, I even heard that before the Duke’s men arrived, several of the buildings, including the mill, had been destroyed.”
“The mill?” asked Chad, fear for his family naked on his face.
The girl, intent on her own conversation as she was, was oblivious to the effect her words had on her listeners. “Supposedly,” she replied. “Of course, having to stay here as I do, with no possibility of ever seeing more than…uh, interesting travelers such as yourselves, I wouldn’t know for sure.”
“Wenda!” the proprietress of the inn and mother of the girl, hollered. Having just emerged from the kitchen
