“Okay, let go,” Hadrian told her, and he redressed the wound. Once again he had her squeeze as soon as he was finished. More blood soaked the bandages, but it was spotty this time and did not consume the whole linen.
Hadrian wrapped another length and tied it off. “There,” he said, wiping his hands. “Now you just have to hope there was nothing nasty on that shaft.”
Royce handed him a lantern. “We should look for other entrances.”
“Mauvin, Alric? Keep watch out the windows, shout if they return.”
“I need water,” Gaunt said, his face dripping with sweat. Arista slipped a pack under his head and grabbed his water pouch. It appeared more of it dribbled down his chin than went in his mouth.
“Rest,” she said, and brushed the hair from his brow.
He gave her a suspicious look.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to enchant you,” she said.
When she entered, her robe illuminated the grand hall with a cold azure light. A great stone table stood in the center with dozens of tall chairs surrounding it. A few had fallen to their sides, as had a half dozen metal goblets that rested on the table. The chamber was four stories tall, with great windows lining the high gallery and skylights in the ceiling. She imagined that they had once filled this room with a wonderful radiance of sunlight. Painted on the upper walls and parts of the ceiling were astounding scenes of battle. Knights rode on horseback with streamers flying from long poles, vast valleys were filled with thousands of soldiers, and castle gates, defended by archers, were assailed by machines of war. In one scene, three men battled on a hilltop against three Gilarabrywn. Those same men were seen in other images, and in one, they were pictured in a hall with a throne where one sat with a crown and to either side stood the other two. Below the paintings, a varied array of weapons lined the room: swords, spears, shields, bows, lances, and maces. The one thing they all had in common: even after a thousand years, they still gleamed.
Words were engraved in a band encircling the room and could also be found on recessed plaques, yet Arista’s training in the Old Speech was verbal, not written. Unable to decipher the meanings, she did spot the words Techylor and Cenzlyor.
A majestic stair gave access to the gallery above and she climbed it. At the top were a series of doors. Some rooms lay open and she spied small chambers, living quarters with beds, shelves, and closets. Lantern light spilled from one.
She found Hadrian standing near the bed, staring up at the opposite wall as if entranced. He was looking at a suit of armor, a shield, and a set of weapons. The armor was not at all like the traditional heavy breastplates, pauldrons, vambraces, and tassets of typical knight attire. This was one piece and appeared as a long formal coat, but made from leaves of gold-colored metal. It hung from a display with a great plumed helm like the head of an eagle resting on top.
“Planning on moving in?” she asked. “I got a little worried when you didn’t come back.”
“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I didn’t hear any shouts. Is everything all right?”
“Gaunt is sleeping, Myron reading, Magnus is arguing with Alric, Royce still hasn’t returned, and Mauvin wandered off. And what are you doing?”
She sat down on the bed, which promptly collapsed under her weight, issuing a cloud of dust.
“You all right?” he asked, helping her up.
“Yes,” she said, coughing and waving her hand before her face. “I guess the wood rotted over the years.”
“This is it,” he said.
“What?” She brushed the dust from her robe.
“This is Jerish’s room, Jerish Grelad, the Teshlor Knight who went with the emperor’s son into hiding.”
“How do you know?”
“The shield,” he said, and pointed across the room at the heater shield hanging on the wall. On it was an emblem of twisted and knotted vines around a star supported by a crescent moon. Hadrian reached back and drew forth the long spadone sword. He held it up so that she could see the small engraving at the center of the pommel that matched the one on the shield. Then he stood up and crossed the room. As he did, she noticed for the first time that the suit of armor had no sword, but there was a sheath of gold and silver. Hadrian fitted the tip into the opening and let the great sword slide home. “You’ve been parted a long time.”
“Doesn’t quite match anymore,” Arista said, noticing how the sword was marred to a dull finish.
“It has seen a thousand years of use,” Hadrian said, defending it. He looked back at the armor. “The sword was the only thing he took. I suppose he couldn’t expect to hide very well dressed in shiny gold armor.” His fingers played over the gleaming surface of the metal.
“Looks like it would fit,” she said.
He smirked. “What would I do with it?”
She shrugged. “Still, it seems like you should have it. Goes with the sword, anyway.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”