more.”
“All right,” Angus said. “You pocketed my things and then what?”
“I did what I could to help you,” he said. “You hit that wall pretty hard. When I saw you crumpled up like that, I thought you were dead. But you weren’t. It was pretty bad, though. Your skull was tender and scrunched when I touched it. Half your ribs were cracked or broken. There was something wrong with your back. But you were still breathing.”
Angus frowned, ran his hands over his chest and shook his head. “That can’t be true,” he said. “There’s no hint of broken bones; I feel fine.”
Giorge smiled and nodded. “Now,” he said. “But then, you were a mess. It took a lot of convincing for them to call in a healer to mend you. But they did, and she was exceptional. It was only after you were recovering that they threw you in the dungeons.”
“It was costly, too,” Hobart added. “We spent a lot more of the gems Giorge had gotten for those coins. The Banner’s gems.”
“There was still plenty left over, Hobart,” Giorge said. “And if Angus proves to be as useful to us as we suspect he will be, it is a small price to pay. After all, he did have that map.”
“Who cares about that damned map?” Hobart grumbled. “I can buy a map for a few silvers. His healing cost thousands of gold.”
“Not his map,” Giorge said. “Ask Ortis. It’s as old as the coins, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ortis said. “But what does that matter.”
“Well,” Giorge finally turned away from Millie to face them, a hint of his typical grin threatening to etch onto his lips. “If my information is correct,” he continued, “it may lead us to The Tiger’s Eye.”
“The what?” Hobart asked. “I don’t really like the idea of fighting mountain cats.”
“I didn’t say it was a tiger,” Giorge clarified. “I said The Tiger’s Eye.”
“So?” Hobart said. “What’s the difference?”
Giorge sighed. “There’s a legend,” he said. “It goes way back to a time before Urm. It’s about a ruby the size of a large man’s hand. They called it The Tiger’s Eye, and it was reputed to have had strange and wondrous powers. It was part of what drove Urm to expand the kingdom. He thought the plains folk had it, but they didn’t. Then his son went after the dwarves for the same reason, and with the same results.”
“That doesn’t seem likely,” Angus said, feeling his anger subtly shifting to curiosity. “According to Fyngar, Urm simply wanted the grain for himself. There was no mention of this Tiger’s Eye, and I am quite confident Fyngar would have mentioned it if he had known of its existence. He was quite thorough in his critique of Urm’s motives.”
“That’s only one story,” Giorge countered, brightening a bit more as he spoke. “There are others. One involves the Angst. They were a strange group of religious fanatics from the time before the Dwarf Wars. They worshipped fire and prayed to a god of destruction and chaos. Some say they accepted the plains folk into their ranks—and the dwarves. Others say they fled from Urm as his armies moved west into the mountains, but they eluded him. Others say they were always in the mountains, but Urm didn’t know about them; it was only after Vyr’s extension of the kingdom that they were discovered. Whatever the truth is, they all say the Angst disappeared into the mountains or were there all along. But after the volcanoes started erupting, no one ever heard from them again. And all the legends say the same thing about The Tiger’s Eye: It was so powerful that it could burn a man to cinders in an instant.”
“What does that have to do with Angus’s map?” Hobart asked.
“Simple,” he said. “The symbol that looks like a flame burning on top of a pyramid resembles the ones mentioned in the rumors. I think it is one of their temples. If it hasn’t been completely destroyed, we might find The Tiger’s Eye.”
“There has been a lot of volcanism over here,” Ortis hedged. “It is almost certainly destroyed.”
Giorge shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed, then grinned for the first time since leaving Hellsbreath. “But what if it isn’t?”
“Other banners have probably found it,” Hobart said. “Or other things.”
“What if they haven’t?” Giorge asked, his newly rediscovered enthusiasm difficult to squash.
“All right,” Hobart said. “You think that ruby is in this temple, and the temple has protected it from being destroyed, don’t you?”
Giorge nodded, “It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Why have that one temple indicated on Angus’s map?” he asked. “I’m sure they had many other temples that weren’t noted, so it has to have been the most important one, perhaps even their central temple. Think about it; how many small shrines are on the maps we have today? None, that’s how many. But most of them have at least some of the major temples noted. They may vary on which ones, but that’s more the personal preference of the mapmaker, isn’t it?”
“That does make a sort of optimistic sense,” Hobart said. “But I won’t believe it until I see it.”
“Speaking of which,” Ortis said. “We should get going. I’m sure the guardsmen on Hellsbreath’s wall are wondering what we’re doing.”
Hobart glanced back at Hellsbreath again and nodded. “I would be watching us if I were them. I might even send riders out later to make sure we left the area.”
“I’ll get my map out,” Angus said, reaching for his pack. “I think we need to follow along that river, don’t we?”
“No,” Ortis said. “We don’t want them to know where we’re going, do we? If we go along the river, they will want to know what we are doing. They’ll be sure to follow us, even if they weren’t planning to do so already. It would be better to go north at least to the second caravan stop before we break off into The Tween.”
“That’s a good idea,” Giorge said. “We can always backtrack later. I, for one, do not wish to be followed if we can avoid it.”
“There’s a road on my map,” Angus said. “Didn’t we pass one on our way here?”
“That road was abandoned long ago,” Hobart said. “They started building it at the same time as Hellsbreath but gave up on it. The mountains are taking it back.”
“I wonder if they were using the old roadbed,” Angus mused. “If I were building a road through here, I would. It would save time, wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t have to carve the roadbed out of the mountainside.”
“We can take a look at the map when we’re on the other side of this hill,” Ortis said. “It may be in the right place.”
“All right, then,” Hobart said, looking from Giorge to Angus. “Is it settled?”
“For now,” Angus said, sensing the coals of anger still burning within him—but at a controllable level. “But if he disturbs me again….”
“I won’t,” Giorge said. “Not even if an assassin like Typhus is on your trail.”
Angus frowned, looked at Giorge—who smiled slyly as he spurred his horse forward—and fell into place between the first and second Ortis. Hobart and the last Ortis trailed some distance behind them, talking quietly with each other….
10
“There’s the road,” Hobart said as they reached the valley floor. “Even here you can see there’s no upkeep.” He nudged his horse forward onto the old road heading west along the valley floor. “The cobblestones are weathered, the mortar between them is crumbling, and there has been no effort to replace the broken ones. Up ahead, they’ve reclaimed some of the cobblestones to repair the newer roads and grass is sprouting up between most of the ones that are left. Don’t be surprised if some of them are loose. When we reach that mountain, we’ll have to keep near the upslope in case our horses stumble.”
“There are tracks,” Ortis said. “Someone still uses this road.”
Hobart nodded. “Trappers, hunters, the Hellsbreath’s patrols go past the mountain to make sure the dwarves keep to themselves. They don’t stay on the road, though; they keep to the valleys and come back around south of Hellsbreath.”
“That mu
st be it,” Ortis said. “It looks like a group of horses went through here about a week ago. But I don’t see them coming back.”
“It’s an infrequent, long patrol,” Hobart said. “Maybe once a month or so.”
“Let’s go then,” Giorge said, nudging his horse onto the old road, Millie’s hooves clattering noisily with each step. “We have a few hours before it will be dark.”
“We should stay at the caravan stop,” Hobart suggested. “We can come back here tomorrow. That way, if they’re following us, we can confront them.”
Giorge stopped, turned Millie to face them, and said, “Let them follow us this way,” he said. “They’ll give up sooner.”
“That may be,” Hobart said, not moving.
“Look,” Giorge added. “We only have two or three weeks before winter sets in up there, right? And it will hit Hellsbreath not long after that. We can’t winter in Hellsbreath this year, so the sooner we check this place out, the more time we’ll have to find somewhere else to stay.”
“True,” Hobart said, but he made no move to follow Giorge. “Of course, Wyrmwood is nearby.”
“Well?” Giorge said. “Do we go or not?”
Hobart shrugged. “I’d feel more comfortable if I knew why this road was abandoned.”
Giorge grinned and said, “We’ll know that sooner if we go now than if we wait for tomorrow.”
“All right, Giorge,” Hobart conceded. “Lead the way, then.”
They were still in the valley when they set up camp for the