The Pendant Read online

  Seth was the first to venture out of the cave and was surprised to find sunshine waiting for him. The storm had been fierce and he had not expected it to end so soon. Looking around, he could see the tail end of it as it swiftly moved further into the mountain range.

  “All clear,” he called back.

  Cirren was about to put out the fire when his eyes fell on the deer, which was still asleep beside it. “Should we leave the fire going?” he asked Dean.

  Dean thought for a moment, but shook his head. “I hate having to wake an animal when it looks so peaceful, but we cannot risk Essieth coming down the tunnel and finding it. I know the snake was joking about eating me, but I do not know whether it will find a sleeping deer too good an opportunity to miss.”

  He gently shook the deer, which opened one eye to look at him, but did not get up. It was warm and comfortable and had no wish to move. He explained that the storm had passed and the humans would be leaving soon. Instead of rousing itself, it requested that they leave the fire burning then laid its head back down on the floor of the cave and closed its eye. He shook it once more and told it about the snake in the next chamber. It did not need telling twice. As soon as it regained its feet, it ran from the cave, almost knocking Seth over in its haste to get away.

  “What did you say?” Cirren enquired as he moved the few remaining smouldering sticks about with his booted foot until they stopped glowing. Dean told him and both were chuckling when they left the cave.

  Seth was scanning the horizon. “The storm has cleared, but they often get turned around in mountainous regions so I suggest we retrieve the horses and try to be out of these hills before nightfall.”

  It took them a while, but eventually they found the sheltered overhang under which they had left their mounts and were pleased to find them not only safe and well, but also completely dry. Night had yet to fall and the area was too small for them all to sleep in, so they continued down the hillside, reaching flat ground just before darkness arrived. Seth found a clearing that would be suitable for camping and set about cooking a meal as soon as he unpacked his backpack.

  They rose with the sun and made their way towards the nearest signs of civilization.

  “Where are we?” Dean asked as they rode along.

  “I think we are in Auxland,” Brodin said, “though we must be close to the border.”

  Dal started to chuckle. “Seth had to pretend to be engaged to Ria last time we were here,” she informed the group when they questioned why she was laughing. “It was the only way to make sure no women made unwanted advances towards him.”

  “Why Ria not you?” Brodin asked her.

  “I was pretending to be my twin brother at the time and thankfully was considered too young for the law to apply to me.”

  That statement posed more questions than it answered and the next few leagues disappeared under their horses’ hooves as they swapped tales about their previous adventures in Auxland, where it was illegal for a man to turn down a woman’s invitation to warm her bed if she outranked him, unless he was engaged, married, under age or recently widowed. Brodin’s time in the country was relatively uneventful as, being a Prince, only the Queen outranked him. He did manage to contribute to the conversation by telling an amusing tale about how one of his travelling companions caught the eye of a middle-aged Duchess and he and his friends had to break him out of her townhouse late one night once they had retrieved the flower the latest clue required. They had considered leaving him there, but, having heard some unpleasant tales about the woman, decided they could not be that cruel.

  The Prince also admitted that he had been propositioned in one outlying town and he had been forced to contact the local Lord to confirm that he truly was a Prince. Dean remained silent, secretly praying that Brodin would say no more. His prayers were not answered. Brodin took great pleasure in mentioning that, being an attractive young man, Dean was approached at least once a day the entire time they were in the country.

  “I thought you told Sam you stayed faithful to her,” Dal exclaimed, outraged.

  “I was,” Dean snapped at her. “As far as I was concerned we were still engaged and I took immense pleasure in informing every woman who demanded my services.”

  “How did you convince them you were telling the truth?” Seth queried. “Surely they did not take your word for it.”

  “I still carry her photo.” As expected, he received blank stares from Cirren, Seth and Dal. Sighing, Dean removed his wallet from a pocket in his tunic and opened it up. The brown leather was faded and the edges were frayed, but it still contained a few crinkled bank notes and, despite being submerged in various streams and rivers, its plastic pocket had perfectly preserved a passport sized photo of Sam sitting on his knee, taken in a photo-booth not long before his disappearance. He removed it and passed it to Dal, who gasped.

  “What is this?” she asked, having never seen anything like it before. Dean explained about cameras and photographs from his own world, but the explanation seemed to mean nothing to his audience. In the end he gave up. Dal handed back the photo and he returned it to its place in his wallet, which he placed back in his tunic.

  A short while later they arrived at a town and made their way directly to the nearest inn. It was a bit rundown, but spending the night there was preferable to sleeping under the stars again. As they walked in, a woman wearing a blue silk dress walked out. She ignored them as she strode past, but paused to look at their backs as they walked through the doorway. Turning around, she re-entered the inn just as Brodin was organising rooms for the night.

  “This one will stay in my room tonight,” she informed the inn-keeper, pointing at Dean.

  “Yes, your ladyship,” the man replied.

  “Not again,” Dean murmured before addressing the lady. “I am sorry madam, but I must decline. I am engaged to be married.”

  Looking at Dal, who was holding Seth’s hand, the woman snorted. “Prove it,” she demanded. Reluctantly, Dean retrieved the photo and handed it over.

  “That is Sam, my fiancée,” he explained.

  “This proves nothing.” The woman did not even bother to look at it before handing it back. “You will have to do better than that.”

  A panic stricken Dean looked at Brodin. “Help.”

  Chapter 19

  “Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?” the Chancellor enquired. His guests and son were seated in his private study discussing their latest thoughts on the quest and any connection it may have to Sam’s nightmares.

  “Thank you, but no,” Tor said wearily. The quest was taking its toll on all of them and Tor was not the only one who longed to be able to rest up for a week or two, but that was not an option. “Other than allowing us to depart first thing in the morning, that is.”

  The Chancellor grimaced. “The council does not meet until after the midday meal and I would very much like Nosmas to speak to them personally.” Seeing the distressed look on Tor’s face, he relented. “I can see that this will be a great inconvenience to you, however, so I will speak to them myself. You have my full permission to leave my residence and continue your journey whenever you wish.”

  “Do I have your leave to withdraw?” Nosmas asked when Tor had finished thanking the Chancellor for his understanding. “If we are to depart at first light, then I would like to tell my father’s tale to a historian tonight.”

  “Of course. Olan will show you the way.” Olan looked as if he was about to protest, but changed his mind and reluctantly escorted Nosmas from the room.

  “Why are the young always so worried about missing out on something?” his father asked. It was a rhetorical question so nobody bothered trying to answer it.

  They spent an agreeable evening dining with the Chancellor and his family and left early the next morning, well before the sun rose. Surprisingly, when they had explained about the coffin they were travelling with and its contents, the Chancellor had invited Hawk to join them. Nosmas was so tired, h
aving stayed up the entire night with the historian, he decided to travel in the back of the wagon. He curled up and placed his cloak over his head and was soon snoring. The horse pulling the wagon looked back in disgust and refused to keep moving until Sam talked it into it. They travelled all morning, stopping just after noon for a meal and a rest. They slept until sundown, then continued their journey during the hours of darkness.

  Their departure from Thauma was uneventful, aside from an argument one night about their route. Nobody wished to go to Kavern once more and, while Janton was closer than Fester, Tor wanted to avoid entering the country. He knew Queen Helen would be mad at him for sneaking away before her wedding and did not want a confrontation. However, common sense prevailed and it was decided that the detour needed to avoid Janton was just too great.

  It was close to sunrise when they crossed the border and made their way to the nearest city. “Where are we exactly?” Patrick asked when the city walls came into view.

  “That should be the city of Geen,” Nosmas informed him.

  “Oh.”

  Tor picked up on the tone of his voice and ordered everyone to halt. “What does ‘oh’ mean?”

  “Nothing,” Patrick replied, a little too quickly. Tor stared at him, but Patrick refused to meet his gaze. “I may have a price on my head there still, that is all,” he finally admitted.

  “Wonderful,” Tor said sarcastically.

  “How much exactly?” Ria asked curiously. Patrick told her and she whistled. “That is a lot of money. Dead or alive I presume?” Patrick nodded and she smiled slyly. “Maybe we should kill him and claim the reward,” she suggested.

  Quartilla was too shocked to speak. Patrick was about to protest, but was interrupted by Nosmas. “It is worth considering. With any luck they will either not want the body or will bury him immediately so all we have to do is dig him up at night, stick him in the back of the wagon and wait for him to come back to life.”

  Patrick started warming up to the idea, but Tor put a spanner in the works. “It is a good plan, but unfortunately I happen to know that the healers’ guild has a training facility here and the bodies of all convicted criminals are handed over to the students for them to cut up. I have been told that the pieces are very small.” He could not keep the smile from his face when he saw how pale Patrick was turning. “I think that having a price on your head qualifies you for being classed as a criminal. Do you agree?”

  “On second thoughts, it might be best if you forego killing me this time.” Nosmas and Ria were still chuckling as they rode through the city gates, much to Patrick’s annoyance.

  With Hawk secure in his coffin, having jumped in just before the first rays of sunlight hit the city walls, they made their way to an inn recommended by one of the city guards who was on duty at the gates. It had been a long and tiring night and they were all looking forward to sleeping in a warm and comfortable bed. The inn-keeper found it strange that they wanted rooms for the day instead of the night, but Tor explained that they were in a hurry and had found they made better time travelling at night, a story the inn-keeper seemed to accept. They ate a large breakfast before heading up to their rooms, where everyone slept until late into the afternoon.

  Exhausted, Sam fell asleep as soon as she laid her head on the pillow. She slept quietly for a few hours, then the dream started. She found herself in a strange bed and it took her a moment to remember that she was in an inn. The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight which streamed in through the open window. Something had awoken her. Sniffing the air, she could detect smoke and when she listened carefully she thought she could hear the crackling of flames on wood. The inn was on fire! In a panic she jumped out of bed and grabbed her cloak from where it had been thrown on a chair, wrapping it around her shoulders as she made her way to the other bed, expecting to find Ria asleep. The bed was empty. She walked to the door, feeling it to see if it was hot as she had been taught in a fire safety video her employer had made her watch.

  It was warm to the touch, but not excessively, so she cautiously opened it a crack and looked through. The sight that met her eyes made her gasp. The entire building was alight. A man, his clothes and hair on fire, screamed as he ran towards her. She slammed the door closed, leaning against it as she listened to him running past. Knowing she would never make it out of the building alive if she went through the door, she ran to the window. Looking down, she could see smoke pouring from every door and window below her as people frantically tried to douse the flames with buckets of water. She could make out the forms of Ria and Tor and screamed down to them, but they could not hear her. Nosmas ran out of the building, shielding Quartilla with his cloak, Patrick a few steps behind. None of them looked up to her window so did not see her frantically trying to get someone’s attention.

  She started coughing as the smoke got thicker. Looking around the room for something she could use to lower herself through the window, she was horrified to see the door covered in flames. Pulling sheets and blankets off the two beds, she frantically tried to make them into some form of rope. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe and she felt dizzy. The room started moving and she collapsed onto the floor.

  Just as her eyes were beginning to close, someone was shaking her roughly and slapping her about the face. Forcing her eyes open she found herself looking at a man, his face obscured by his hood. Without saying a word, he picked her up and carried her from the room. He seemed vaguely familiar and she felt that she should recognise him, but no name sprang to mind as he carried her down the still burning stairs, through the smoking shell which was all that remained of the taproom and into the fresh air.

  She woke with a start, sitting up and looking around her. Sunlight flooded the room, revealing that Ria’s bed was empty. She got dressed and made her way to where she had breakfasted with her friends earlier that morning.

  “Finally decided to join us,” Patrick called out as she entered the room.

  “You look terrible,” Ria observed. “Did you not sleep well?”

  “I had another nightmare,” Sam told her and was a little offended when she rolled her eyes.

  “Tell us about it,” Tor commanded. She quickly described what had happened.

  Nosmas started to laugh. “Is that all? I would hardly call that a nightmare.”

  “But it felt so real,” Sam protested.

  Tor took her hand in his and spoke to her solemnly. “Sam, we have more important things to worry about than your silly dreams. Everyone has nightmares sometimes. Mine are usually a lot worse than the one you have just described. Forget about it and have something to eat.”

  “But what about the man I almost recognised. He might be important. Does nobody care anymore?” Sam could not understand her friends’ blasé attitude when they had been so concerned about her dreams when they were discussed in Thauma.

  Quartilla said something to her, but she could not make out what, as her words were drowned out by a voice she recognised. “Sam, wake up,” someone was shouting.

  Sam opened her eyes and found Ria sitting on the bed beside her, roughly shaking her. “I’m awake,” she announced as all memories of her dream left her.

  “I think you were having another nightmare,” Ria informed her. “You were tossing and turning so much you woke me up.”

  “Sorry,” Sam said, wiping her hand across her forehead. She was dripping with sweat.

  “No apology necessary,” Ria assured her. Her face was filled with concern. “Are you alright? It has been a while since you had a bad dream. Can you remember what it was about?”

  Sam shook her head. “I have no idea. I can’t remember a thing.” She clenched her fist and punched the bed in frustration. “I thought they had stopped. I was just getting used to sleeping properly again. Why did they have to start again?” Ria had no answer.

  When they all met up later in the day, everyone was refreshed and well-rested, except for Sam, who was tired and irritable. She had been too wound up to get b
ack to sleep and felt worse than when she had first gone to bed. On top of that, she was sure she could feel the baby moving and had kept focusing on the odd sensations inside her instead of relaxing her mind and seeking the solace of sleep. Nightfall was not far off, so the decision was made to have a quick meal at the inn before continuing their journey.

  “Where is Patrick?” Sam asked, noticing that he was the only one not present at the table.

  Ria rolled her eyes. “Nosmas took a stroll around the town earlier and could find no sign of any wanted posters with Patrick’s image on them, so he decided to purchase a few new silk shirts. The ones he has are too travel stained apparently.”

  “I sometimes think he is more of a woman than you are,” Tor said to her good naturedly, ducking to avoid the hand that tried to slap the back of his head. He didn’t notice the elbow until it stuck him in the ribs, making him utter an oath.

  As soon as the meal was finished, Sam spoke to the inn-keeper and handed over a letter and some coins. She had promised to keep Nisse informed as to the well-being of herself and the baby and she had been remiss in keeping that promise. Her failure to get back to sleep had given her the opportunity to write him a note, assuring him that she was fine and the pregnancy was progressing well. She neglected to mention her nightmares. There was nothing he could do to help and she did not want to cause him any unnecessary worry. The inn-keeper promised to hand it over to the next messenger that passed through the city, providing they were prepared to take it to the homeland of the elves.

  Darkness descended and there was still no sign of Patrick. Everything was loaded into the wagon, the inn-keeper had been paid and Tor was pacing irritably outside the stables. “What is taking him so long?” he muttered angrily. The longer they stayed in Janton, the more likely it was that they would be recognised and someone would inform the Queen of their presence. They were so close to ending the quest, he did not want anything to delay them, especially an angry Queen.