Theft of Swords (The Riyria Revelations #1-2)

Royce led them away from the camp, walking the horses across the scorched land, where the ash muffled their movement. He kept a close eye on the distant sentries. No outcry, no shouts, no one appeared to notice, and soon they slipped into the leafy forest. Once there, he turned back toward the river in order to throw off anyone who might look for their tracks. Once he had them safe in a shallow glen near the Nidwalden, Royce ordered them to stay put while he went back.

He crept up to the edge of the burned area. The camp was as it had been before. Satisfied they had made a clean escape, he walked back toward the river. He found himself on the trail that led to the Woods’ farm and the shell of the old building. Inexplicably, the fire had never reached this far and it remained untouched. There was one change, however; in the center of the yard, where they had first seen the old farmer sharpening his scythe, there was a mound of earth. A stack of stones borrowed from the walls of the farmhouse circled the oblong mound. At its head, driven into the ground, was a broad plank, and burned into it were the words:

THERON WOOD

FARMER

Royce could just make out the additional words scratched into the plank below that:

Father of the Empress

As Royce stood reading the words, he noticed it—a chill making the hair on his skin stand up. Someone was watching him. On the edge of his sight, a figure stood in the trees. Another stood to his left. He sensed more behind him. He turned his head, focused his eyes to see who they were—nothing. All he saw were trees. He glanced to his left and again nothing. He stood still, listening. Not a twig snapped, nor a leaf crinkled, but he could still feel it.

He moved away from the clearing into the brush and circled around. He moved as quietly as he could, but when he stopped, he was alone.

Royce stood, puzzled. He looked for tracks where he had seen the figures, but none existed, not even a bent blade of grass. At last, he gave up and returned to where he had left the others.

“All’s well?” Hadrian asked, sitting atop Mouse with the sun on his bare shoulders and his chest wrapped in broad strips of white cloth.

“I suppose,” he said, mounting up.

He led them southwest along the highlands near the falls, following a deer trail that cut through the deep forest. It was the same trail he had found in his hours searching for a tunnel to the tower. Hadrian and Mauvin appeared to be doing better than expected, though each of them winced in pain whenever his horse took a misstep.

Royce continued to look back over his shoulder but nothing was ever there.

By midafternoon they had cleared the trees and found the main road heading south to Alburn. Here they paused to check Mauvin’s and Hadrian’s bandages. Mauvin started to bleed again, but it was not bad and Magnus turned out to be almost as good a nurse as he was a sword smith, fashioning a new pad for his side. Royce searched through the saddlebags and found Hadrian a suitable shirt.

“We should be fine,” Royce told them, going through their inventory. “With a little luck we should reach Medford in a week.”

“In a hurry, are you?” Hadrian asked.

“You might say that.”

“Thinking about Gwen?”

“I’m thinking it’s time I told her a few things about myself.”

Hadrian smiled and nodded.

“You think Thrace will be all right?”

“Tomas seems to be watching out for her pretty well.”

“Do you think they’ll really make her empress?”

“Not a chance.” Royce shook his head and handed the shirt to him. “What do you plan on doing now?” Royce asked Magnus.

The dwarf shrugged. “You mean assuming you don’t kill me?”

“I’m not going to kill you, but your old employer, the church, might now that you’ve turned on them. They will be coming after you just the same as they’ll be after Mauvin and Hadrian. And without the church’s support, you won’t last long on your own. Towns in Avryn aren’t too friendly to your kind.”

“Nowhere is.”

“That’s what I meant.” Royce sighed. “I know of a very out-of-the-way place you might be able to hold up at. A place the church isn’t likely to visit. They need a lot of stonework done and could use an experienced craftsman like you.”

“How do they feel about dwarves?”

“I don’t think you’ll have a problem. They’re the kind of people who tend to like everyone.”

“I could do with getting back to stonecutting.” Magnus nodded.

“Myron will drive him crazy with his quest to get the monastery exactly the way it was,” Hadrian said. “They’ve gone through five builders so far.”

“I know,” Royce replied with a little grin.

Royce climbed back on top of Mouse as Magnus went ahead to check on Mauvin.

Hadrian shook out his shirt before slipping his arm in the sleeve. “Arista told me you two were with Esrahaddon in the tower last night. She said he needed help with something, but wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“He was using the tower to look for the Heir of Novron,” Royce replied.

“Did he find him?”

“I think so, but you know how Esra is. It’s hard to be sure of anything when dealing with him.” Hadrian nodded and winced as he pulled the shirt over his shoulders.

“Having troubles?”

“You try getting dressed with broken ribs sometime. It isn’t so easy.”

Royce continued to look at him.

“What is it? Am I that entertaining?” Hadrian asked.

“It’s just that you’ve worn that silver medallion ever since I’ve known you, but you never told me where you got it.”

“Hmm? This?” Hadrian said. “I’ve had this forever. My father left it to me.”





GLOSSARY OF TERMS AND NAMES


ADDIE WOOD: Mother of Thrace, wife of Theron

ALBERT WINSLOW, VISCOUNT: Landless nobleman used by Riyria to arrange assignments from the gentry



ALBURN: Kingdom of Avryn ruled by King Armand and Queen Adeline



ALENDA LANAKLIN, LADY: Daughter of Marquis Victor Lanaklin and sister of Brother Myron of the Winds Abbey



ALLIE: Daughter of Wyatt Deminthal



ALRIC BRENDON ESSENDON, PRINCE: Member of ruling family of Melengar, son of Amrath, brother of Arista



ALVERSTONE: \al-ver-stone\ Royce’s dagger



AMBROSE MOOR: Administrator of the Manzant Prison and Salt Works



AMRATH ESSENDON, KING: \am-wrath\ Ruler of Melengar, father of Alric and Arista



AMRIL, COUNTESS: \am-rill\ Noblewoman that Arista cursed with boils



ANTUN BULARD: Historian and author of The History of Apeladorn



APELADORN: \ah-pell-ah-dorn\ Four nations of man, consisting of Trent, Avryn, Delgos, and Calis



AQUESTA: \ah-quest-ah\ Capital city of the kingdom of Warric



ARCADIUS VINTARUS LATIMER: Professor of lore at Sheridan University



ARCHIBALD BALLENTYNE: Earl of Chadwick



ARISTA ESSENDON, PRINCESS: Member of ruling family of Melengar, daughter of Amrath, sister of Alric



ARMAND, KING: Ruler of Alburn, married to Adeline



ART, THE: Magic, generally feared by nobles and commoners due to superstition



ARVID MCDERN: Son of Dillon McDern of Dahlgren



AVEMPARTHA: Ancient elven tower



AVRYN: \ave-rin\ Central and most powerful of the four nations of Apeladorn, located between Trent and Delgos



BALLENTYNE: \bal-in-tine\ Ruling family of the earldom of Chadwick



BA RAN GHAZEL: Goblins of the sea