“All I have left are guesses,” Kara said. “For example, I can’t tell you why he rode to this particular barrow and waited here. Nor can I tell you if the riders were the people he was waiting for.”
“He might have guessed which barrow the crypt-breakers were likely to try next,” Hamil suggested. “Or, more likely, someone told him. He came to this barrow because he expected someone to be here.”
“I think you’re right, Hamil.” Kara gave the halfling a long look. “But that begs the question of whether Jarad’s source was sincere or lied to him in order to lure him to a place where he could be ambushed. Either way, it doesn’t explain why Jarad broke cover. From this spot he could easily have seen he was outnumbered. With five riders to deal with, Jarad should’ve stayed in his hiding place. You can see for yourself; if I get down under this brush, you can’t see me from in front of the barrow. You would have to be right on top of me to know I was here.”
Geran closed his eyes. He found himself imagining the encounter… the black doorway in the low, rounded hillside, nervous horses tethered on a line, a sky of sullen, gray-black rain, cold wind making the long grasses ripple and hiss. Jarad lying flat beneath the gorse, cold and wet, a big, strong man with a long braid of straw-colored hair, scowling fiercely at himself as he debated whether to go for help or deal with matters himself. Was it a sudden furious skirmish in the dell when he gave his location away? Or had he challenged the intruders, demanding their surrender? And who were the killers? A band of adventurers passing through, a reckless gang from town, or men sworn to some guild or merchant company?” Jarad was always confident of his sword arm,” Geran finally said. “Maybe he was afraid the tomb robbers would elude him again if he rode away to gather more men. Or maybe he thought he could spy them out, mark their faces, and apprehend them later in town.”
Or maybe he didn’t think the riders were enemies, Hamil said silently to Geran. To Kara, the halfling spoke aloud. “Kara, earlier this morning you said that crypt-breaking was especially dangerous in Hulburg. Why is that?”
“Aesperus, the King in Copper,” Kara answered. “He was a fearsome necromancer who ruled over this part of the Moonsea hundreds of years ago. He survives as an undead lich who commands the dead of the barrowfields. Too many things that should lie dead and buried under stone rise and walk the Highfells once their tombs are breached.”
“It’s one of the few laws the harmachs enforce without mercy,” Geran added. “No one is to open a tomb anywhere within land claimed by Hulburg. And it’s considered high treason to collect anything of value buried in a barrow.”
“Sensible enough, I suppose.” Hamil glanced at the barrow and the moorland surrounding the old mound. He shook his head. “A damned lonely place to die.”
They stood in silence for a moment, quietly surveyeing the scene. It was the middle of the afternoon; Geran guessed that they’d need to turn for home in an hour or so if they hoped to reach Hulburg before dark. If there was anything to find here, he couldn’t imagine what it might be. Kara had been over the ground more than twenty days ago, and if she hadn’t found anything more then, he certainly wouldn’t now. The wind shifted again and streamed the long grass atop the barrow to the other side, revealing a silver-green underside to the stalks. He shivered, and then his eye fell on the cramped, dark doorway leading into the barrow.
“Kara,” he said, “did anyone enter or leave the barrow?”
The ranger nodded. “Yes, the riders did, after they’d killed Jarad. But there isn’t much inside, just a short passageway ending at a fieldstone wall. If they were tomb-breakers, they didn’t do much to the place before giving up.”
“Let’s have a look anyway,” Geran suggested.
He led the way to the low, overgrown opening. It was half-sunken into the side of the barrow, more like a storm cellar than an actual door. A cold, stale smell clung to the passage. He felt in his belt pouch for a copper coin and whispered the words of a simple light spell-one of the more elementary spells he happened to know. The coin began to shine with a bright yellow radiance, driving the darkness back into the hill. Holding the coin before him, Geran ducked under the heavy stone lintel, his right hand on his sword hilt. Hamil followed close behind him, and Kara hovered in the doorway, a tight frown on her face.
As she’d said, the passage ran straight for a short distance, took a sharp right turn, and ended in a rough wall of stones piled high across the narrow corridor. Geran studied it for a moment, thinking. Something was odd here, he was sure of it. Many barrows were sealed by similar walls across the entrance-way; the people who’d interred their chiefs and heroes in such places simply walled them up when the burial rites were over, and then buried the passage they’d used to carry the dead man and his belongings into the burial chamber. He knelt and felt at the floor by the base of the wall. Rock chips and discarded stones littered the ground atop a thin layer of damp dirt.
“Hamil, have a look at this,” Geran said. “I think this wall’s been taken down and put up again.”
The halfling leaned close, studying the loosely piled field-stone. “You’re right. All the dirt and mold from between the stones is knocked out.”
Kara leaned over his shoulder. “Yes, I noticed that before. It didn’t make sense to me. Why would tomb- breakers put the wall back behind them?”
“Why, indeed,” Geran murmured. Because they wanted to keep people out? Or had they wanted to seal something inside? He found a deep, dirt-filled crevice between stones in the wall beside him and wedged the illuminated coin into it to free his hands. “All right, be ready. I’m going to move a few stones and have a look at what’s on the other side.”
“Geran, that might be dangerous,” Kara warned. “You know the harmach’s law.”
“I know it. But someone knocked this wall down and rebuilt it not too long ago, so it’s hardly like we’re the first people to open this barrow.” Geran found a loose stone near the top and began to pry it out. “Besides, if someone wanted to keep something dangerous inside, I doubt they would have taken the time to pile up rocks here. They’d have run for their horses and ridden off across the Highfells. I think that this wall was piled up here to keep us out, possibly by the men who killed Jarad. I want to know why.”
Kara gave him an unhappy look, but she came forward and helped him pry stones away from the wall. Hamil stayed back out of the way, moving the rocks they dislodged back down the passage to keep the way clear. In a few minutes Geran managed to open a sizable hole near the top of the wall. A cold breath of air with the distinct smell of stale meat sighed through the opening.
“I can smell something dead in there,” Kara said, grimacing. “Maybe we shouldn’t take out any more stones.”
Geran paused and listened carefully. It felt cold and the air was tainted… but he could not feel anything unnatural waiting in the darkness beyond. He and Hamil had plenty of experience with old crypts and tombs, including some that were haunted by the restless dead. He thought he knew the feel of such creatures close at hand. But to reassure himself, he retrieved his shining coin from the crack where he’d wedged it and held it close to the opening they’d made to peer through to the other side. He couldn’t see much yet, just the hint of more passage beyond. “Just a few more,” he decided.
“If a wight lunges out and claws off your face, it won’t be my fault,” Kara muttered. But she returned to the work, worrying free another stone.
Geran did the same, and then he was able to put his shoulder to the remaining mass and shove over most of what was left with a terrible crash and a great cloud of dust and dirt. Coughing, he backed up to let the dust settle.
In the dim yellow light of the spell, they found that the passage ran a bit farther to a burial chamber. Once it might have hidden the funereal wealth of an important chieftain, but it was clear that it had been emptied long ago-likely by the same men who’d originally excavated the mound’s doorway, Geran figured. The grave itself was a simple depression in the loose flagstone floor, covered by a chipped slab of roughly cut stone. The three companions spread out through the chamber, silently taking in the scene.
I don’t like this, Geran, Hamil whispered in his mind. You say that the dead in this land don’t rest well. We shouldn’t be here.
Something isn’t right here, Geran answered him. He’d been in a few barrows long ago, mostly ones long since opened and home to nothing but mice and dust. The harmach’s prohibition did not apply to tombs that someone else had already opened, after all. But something in this burial mound was out of place… the air was cold, and the smell of death lingered more strongly there. Why does it still smell that way? he wondered. It was hundreds of years old.
“Someone has been in here recently,” Kara said. She knelt, her fingers spread over the rough stones of the
