“Carry those everywhere, do you?” Hadrian asked.
“You won’t catch me leaving them on a horse’s saddle,” Magnus replied.
Hadrian and Theron began digging a pit on the side of the courtyard. They dug it on the site of the old smokehouse, making use of the already turned soil to ease their effort. Without a shovel, they used old boards that left their hands black. Within a couple of hours, they had a small hole big enough for the two of them to get down fully under the earth. It was not deep enough to avoid being dug up, but it might hide them from a blast of fire as long as it did not come straight down. If it did, they would be like a couple of clay pots fired in sand.
“Won’t be long now,” Hadrian told Theron as the two men sat covered in dirt and ash, looking up at the fading light. Magnus was using his smallest hammer, tapping away with a resounding tink, tink. He muttered something, then pulled a heavy cloth from a pouch on his belt and began rubbing the surface of the metal.
Hadrian looked out over the trees, feeling Alverstone inside his tunic. He wondered if Royce had made it to the tower. Is he inside? Has he found Esrahaddon? Can the old wizard do anything to help them? He thought of the princess and Thrace. What has it done with them? He bit his lip. Royce was probably right. Why would it keep them alive?
The sound of horses approached from the south. Theron and Hadrian exchanged surprised looks and stood up to see a troop of riders racing out of the trees. Eight horsemen crossed the desolate plain, knights in black armor with a standard of a broken crown flying before them. Leading them was Luis Guy in his red cassock.
“Look who is finally back.” Hadrian looked over at Magnus. “You done yet?”
“Just polishing,” the dwarf replied. He then noticed the riders for the first time. “This can’t be good,” he grumbled.
The riders trotted into the remains of the courtyard and pulled up at the sight of them. Guy surveyed the smoldering ruins of the old castle for a moment, then dismounted and walked toward the dwarf, pausing to pick up a burnt bit of timber, which he turned over twice in his hands before tossing it away. “It would seem Lord Rufus didn’t do as well last night as we hoped. Did you forget to dot an i, Magnus?”
Magnus took a frightened step back. Theron stepped forward quickly, grabbed the original broken blade, and hid it under his shirt.
Guy noticed the act but ignored the farmer and faced the dwarf. “Care to explain yourself, Magnus, or shall I just kill you for lousy workmanship?”
“Wasn’t my fault. There were markings on the other side that none of the pictures showed. I did what you asked; your research was to blame.”
“And what are you up to now?”
“He’s duplicating the blade so we can use it to trade with the Gilarabrywn,” Hadrian explained.
“Trade?”
“Yes, the creature took the princess Arista and a village girl. It said if we return the blade we took from its lair, it will free the women.”
“It said?”
“Yes,” Hadrian confirmed. “It spoke to Deacon Tomas last night just before he watched it take the women.”
Guy laughed coldly. “So the beast is talking now, is it? And abducting women too? How impressive. I suppose it also rides horses and I should expect it to be representing Dunmore at the next Wintertide joust in Aquesta.”
“You can ask your own deacon if you don’t believe me.”