Theft Of Swords: The Riyria Revelations

“Mouse.”

 

 

“What’s that?”

 

Royce pointed to the horse Hadrian sat on. “Of all the animals he had to choose from, the dwarf stole Mouse.”

 

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.

 

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