D& D - Mystara 01 - Dragonlord of Mystara Read online

  Thelvyn nodded. "I'll go and check on Sir George's house."

  He slipped away quietly into the shadows, so that none of the older folks would notice. Even after two weeks, Thelvyn was still in a bad mood over the circumstances of his apprenticeship to Dal Ferstaan. At least Ferstaan and his family, even his two journeyman assistants, had helped to make him feel at home, and his work at the foundry was going well. Of course, all he had done so far was to help turn out stacks of iron ingots.

  He was glad he had finished his required studies well ahead of the other students his age so that he no longer had to go to school and face Mage Eddan. He had decided that the wizard, self-appointed defender of Flaemish tradition, was doing everything he could to chase young Thelvyn out of the village. It was a wasted effort, for Thelvyn fully intended to leave when he came of age later that year, or the next spring at the latest.

  He remained extremely curious about what Sir George might have in mind for him, especially since he had learned that the old knight had named him his heir and had even considered adopting him. He wondered just who Sir George Kirbey really was—whether he was in fact the wealthy, mysterious adventurer he seemed to be or the traveling merchant he claimed to be. Either way, Thelvyn didn't doubt that he would be better off in the old knight's company. Sir George had been away an unusually long time, as he had warned when he had left early the previous fall, and there was no certainty about when he would return.

  Thelvyn stopped short, rousing himself from his thoughts. As he came around a corner, he saw a pale yellow light in one of the back windows of Sir George's house, although the rest of the place was dark. He quickly concluded that some thief had waited until everyone was away at the dance to ransack the place. Thelvyn did not hesitate, responding to some fierce instinct he didn't know he possessed. Using his key, he carefully opened the front door, choosing that entrance because it was farthest from the room with the light at the back of the house. He reached around inside the doorway and located the hiking staff Sir george kept there.

  He closed the door quietly, then paused for a moment to listen. His oddly shaped ears were unusually sensitive, and his big, dark eyes gave him the ability to see in the dark almost as well as an elf. He had always tried to keep his abilities hidden, since people found him peculiar enough as it was.

  After a moment, he was sure he could hear someone moving slowly and quietly along the hall toward the doorway on the far side of the room from where he stood. Apparently his entrance hadn't been as secretive as he i bought. At least the thief was now forced to come to him in the darkness, where Thelvyn had the advantage.

  After a moment, the figure of a woman appeared in the opposite doorway, obviously assuming she was hidden by darkness. The woman was young but also the tallest female I'helvyn had ever seen, taller even than he himself by several inches. Although she was wearing a loose robe, she still appeared quite slender. Her height meant she couldn't be an elf, and thus she lacked his own ability to see in the dark. Still, he had to concede that she had the advantage of reach. She might also have the advantage of experience, and she most certainly had the advantage of carrying a long, slender-bladed sword. While Thelvyn was brave, he was also no fool. He knew he would have to remain calm to win this fight.

  The tall woman stepped farther into the room, then stopped, apparently having come close enough to see his outline in the darkness. "Thief!" she cried loudly

  Well, it was nice of the enemy to declare herself. Thelvyn swung his staff against the blade of her sword, hoping to take her by surprise and knock the weapon from her hand. The metal rang, but he had underestimated her strength. She swung the sword wide in return, missing him completely, although the move was obviously intended only to make him keep his distance. Then he realized that she probably knew she was fighting someone who didn't have a real weapon.

  The battle continued in a series of fierce but awkward swings and thrusts, a comic fencing match in the dark between her long, light sword and his staff. Thelvyn's intent was to capture his enemy, since he could image what the mayor would have to say if he actually killed someone in Sir George's house. It was a fight to' the death as far as his opponent was concerned, but she was having trouble finding him in the dark. After a long moment, Thelvyn decided he needed to find some way to get that sword out of her hand.

  He wondered if he could duck beneath one of her swings and come up inside her reach. A sharp rap on her head should settle the argument. Suddenly he was aware of movement behind him, and he turned to see a second figure sneaking up on him in the darkness, this one much smaller than the first. Startled and fearful of finding himself trapped, he swung the staff sharply, and with a tremendous hollow thump, the metal end of the staff connected with a helmet. The smaller figure stood for a moment as if surprised, then toppled to the wooden floor with another loud thump.

  "Korinn!" the woman shouted.

  Thelvyn took advantage of the woman's distraction, using the staff's handle to hook the hilt of her sword and snap it out of her hand. It flew across the room and stuck point-first in the post beside the door. Then he brought the staff around in a final quick movement and struck her in the head, somewhat more gently than the first figure, since she wasn't wearing a helmet. She went down as well. Thelvyn turned when he became aware of someone else running down the hall bearing a small lamp. He relaxed when he saw that it was Sir George. Then he thought about what that might imply, and he decided that he shouldn't relax after all.

  "Thelvyn!" Sir George declared as he saw the scene of battle. Then he looked quickly about the room, holding up the lamp. "Ah, blessed be! At least nothing seems to be broken."

  "Except for their skulls," Thelvyn said, although the tall woman was already starting to move. "Are . . . are these your friends?"

  "Well, they used to be," Sir George said, looking closely at the woman. "You watch them a moment while I get a restorative potion. Better yet, I'll watch them while you get the potion. You know where I keep such things."

  Thelvyn hurried to fetch the small dark bottle from an unused corner of the liqueur cabinet in the den. By the time he returned, the woman was sitting up with her back against the wall and glaring. Sir George took the bottle and held it under her nose, removing the cork just long enough 10 allow a small, icy-white cloud to escape. The tall woman lopped glaring after a moment, although she continued to rub the side of her head. Thelvyn saw that she was quite young, although older than he, and rather pretty. Her features, especially her pale complexion, light blue eyes, and long, soft hair suggested that she was a barbarian of the Northern Reaches.

  Sir George hurried over to tend to the second attacker, who was indeed a dwarf. He seemed quite young and was dressed in the usual plain, sturdy clothing of his kind. A battle-axe lay beside him. A sturdy iron helmet, bound in leather, had saved him from more serious injury. Thelvyn found the helmet behind a chair, sporting a rather serious dent. The dwarf was unconscious. He responded reluctantly to the restorative potion, although he did not seem to come around entirely until after Sir George had guided him back to the den and placed a glass of wine in his hand. The tall woman sat in a large chair on the far side of the room and resumed glaring at Thelvyn over a cup of ale. Thelvyn stayed as far away from them both as he could.

  "Well, now that that's over, I suppose that introductions are in order," Sir George declared. "Everyone, this is Thelvyn Fox Eyes. I've told you about him."

  "The strange lad with the mean stick," the tall woman said, still glaring and rubbing her head. Her voice didn't possess the rather distinctive Northern Reaches accent as Thelvyn would have guessed. Instead, she sounded like a Thyatian. Under the circumstances, he said nothing.

  "Thelvyn, this is Solveig White-Gold, otherwise known as Solveig-the-G-is-Silent," Sir George continued.

  "George!" she said, redirecting her glare to him.

  The old knight noticed that Thelvyn obviously didn't understand the jest. "Her name is spelled with a silent g, since in the language of the Northern Reaches, all final gs are silent. And that rather dazed fellow is Korinn, son of Doric, also known as Bear Slayer."

  "Pleased to meet you," the dwarf said, so dryly that it was hard to know if he was being sarcastic.

  "Now, what about you?" the old knight asked Thelvyn. "I didn't find you at any of your previous haunts, so assumed you were at the dance and would show up eventually. How is the dance, by the way?"

  "Terrible ... at least for me. None of the girls will dance with me."

  Solveig glared at him. "They're probably all afraid of you."

  "It's the old problem about being a stranger in this land," Thelvyn explained. "I've come to realize lately just how clannish and snobbish the Flaem really are."

  "Well, we're all strangers here. Perhaps we can just have our own little dance." Sir George glanced at Solveig, who was still glaring. He turned back to Thelvyn. "Well, perhaps not. Are you still at the jeweler's?"

  "No. That ran afoul of the same problem I had with reading," he replied. "I couldn't focus on anything that close, and I couldn't do the fine work if I moved back far enough to see it. Dal Ferstaan asked to have me as an assistant at the foundry, but Mage Eddan got the mayor to make him take a five-year contract on my apprenticeship. Since Master Ferstaan didn't have to pay for my contract, he says I can buy out anytime I need to for a penny. I keep a penny under my pillow."

  Sir George had to hide a smile. "You were never meant to be a smith, my lad. But it does you good to be there for now. The hard work will build your strength, and crafting metal at the anvil will give you better dexterity with your hands. That will put you just that far ahead when the time comes to begin training with weapons."

  "Begin?" Solveig declared in disbelief.

  "The lad has a natura
l ability," Sir George told her.

  "Then you do have plans for me?" Thelvyn asked

  hopefully.

  "Of course I have plans for you," the old knight insisted as he contemplated broaching a bottle of his favorite cherry liqueur. He handed the bottle to Thelvyn. "Open that for me, lad. The trouble is that the Flaem have a prior claim to you according to that high and mighty law of theirs, and they won't let me have you until you come of age. I've asked to have you as my apprentice. That's not possible, they say, because you are a ward of the village and cannot leave. Well, it's not as if we don't know your birthday. Seven weeks to the day before the midwinter feast, and after that, you belong to yourself. Then you can do what you want and go where you want."

  "Sometimes I think I'll be too old to do anything by then," Thelvyn said as he opened the bottle and handed it in Sir George. Solveig and Korinn held on to the drinks they already had, quietly refusing the cherry liqueur.

  "Nonsense!" Sir George took his small glass over to his favorite chair and sat down heavily. For a moment, he sat find thought, tapping the wooden arm of the chair with the small hook he was wearing on his left sleeve cuff. "Lad, I'm afraid we'll have to be off again in just a few days. We've been caught up in some business that will likely keep us occupied for the rest of the year, and people are waiting for us in the south."

  "What about me?" Thelvyn asked hopefully. "I know there's no point in asking to go with you, since that would place us both on the bad side of Flaemish law and ruin your chances of doing business here. But I would very much like to begin training for this future that you have in mind for me."

  "As it happens, that's just what I have in mind," Sir (ieorge said. "The problem is that the good people of this village are going to insist upon putting you where they want you, so we might just as well leave you where you are for now. If things change, they'll probably just get worse. I'm Koing to have a little talk with Master Ferstaan to secure his cooperation in letting you continue your studies in secret. I'm going to send you home with a pile of books from my own collection, which I want you to read before the end of

  the year."

  "Books?" Thelvyn asked, mystified but not opposed to the idea. Reading was difficult for him, but he enjoyed it.

  "There are some things that I want you to know. A good deal more history, if nothing else. History and geography from books the Flaem didn't write to suit their own purposes. And if you should happen to read anything that doesn't agree with your previous education, I want you to know that my books are the ones you can trust. Hello, was that someone at the door?"

  "I'll see who it is," Thelvyn offered.

  He hurried off to the front door, wondering who else might have noticed the lights in the house. But when he opened the door, he found Celmar Ferstaan and Meri-landa waiting on the step. Another girl stood behind them in the darkness. Celmar and Merilanda both leaned forward to look at Solveig's narrow-bladed sword, its point still buried deep in the wooden doorpost. Apparently being knocked soundly on the head had been enough of a distraction to cause her to forget about it.

  "Are you entertaining yourself?" Celmar asked.

  "Sir George came back," Thelvyn explained. "We were having a talk."

  "You can talk tomorrow," Celmar told him softly. "We've found you a girl." He lowered his voice even more. "Perrena says that she will kiss you."

  Thelvyn honestly didn't know what to do. If it had only been someone other than Perrena Talstae, he would have

  found it easier to say no.

  *****

  Sir George and his odd companions stayed only a couple of days, and then they were off again. Thelvyn had the impression that they wouldn't have come back at all except that there was something here they needed, no doubt one of the many oddities in the old knight's collection, but he never found out any more about it and he didn't ask. Sir George's business was his own, no matter how much Thelvyn wanted to be a part of it.

  Before they left, Thelvyn made several trips back to the ferstaan household with the books Sir George had selected for him. Some of them looked quite ancient, while others were obviously new, but they were all large and heavy. He was eager to begin reading, since he was curious about what knowledge he lacked of the outer world and also what parts the Flaem had seen fit to change.

  Thelvyn also made his peace, as far as he was able, with Solveig White-Gold, who obviously took her name from the light golden color of her hair. Thelvyn knew that the people of the Northern Reaches took their names in the same manner as the dwarves, but Solveig would never mention her family name or admit to being the daughter of anyone. He actually got along quite well with Korinn, which was surprisingly, since dwarves were notoriously slow to make friends. Perhaps knocking a dwarf silly in fair combat was a quick way to earn his respect.

  When they were gone again, Thelvyn's life returned pretty much to what it had been before. Once again he spent most of his working time tending the fires and pumping the bellows. He became quite good at this work and could soon handle any part of the process himself. Dal Ferstaan had an arrangement with two groups of miners to buy all the ore they produced. Twice each week a small train of packhorses would come in with sacks of fresh ore ready to be dumped into the bins, and once a month a trader arrived from the south, eager to purchase all the iron they had produced.

  Whenever he had time, Master Ferstaan would take thelvyn over to the forge and teach him some tricks about crafting the metal. Soon the young apprentice was making hinges and latches and various other simple devices.

  Master Ferstaan was also dutiful in his promise to Sir George about making certain Thelvyn had some time each clay with his books. Thelvyn's higher education remained very much a secret, for fear that others in the village, especially Mage Eddan, would take exception. At first, Thelvyn was fearful that his reading would be much as it had been back in school, which had been a dull, endless practice in reading and writing and math, interspersed with the

  painful memorizing of historical dates and other lists.

  As it happened, these books proved to be much more interesting. Unlike stern mages, books made a point of explaining why things had happened as they did. Books written by dwarves and gnomes taught him things about metal-working and machines that Master Ferstaan could never have imagined. Soon Thelvyn suspected he knew more about the history of the world than most of the mages of the Flaem, although he privately felt that the fire wizards had no real interest in learning a great many things. They were too pleased with their own comfortable view of the world.

  One thing Thelvyn noticed right away was that Sir George had provided a few books about magic, including a spellbook. That couldn't have been a mistake. Although the old knight had said nothing to him about it, he assumed he was supposed to be teaching himself any magic he could. He knew that magic-users weren't commonly self-taught, but he was determined to try. And so he did what the books told him, keeping his own book of spells close at hand so he could memorize them. He began to practice his magic in secret, more fearful than ever of what Mage Eddan would have to say.

  Sir George came thundering back into the village one afternoon just past the middle of summer, together with his two new companions, each leading a packhorse. The old knight stopped by the forge briefly to tell Thelvyn that he was needed. That came as a surprise to Thelvyn, since he wasn't yet an active member of the group. He couldn't imagine what they expected of him. He hurried over as soon as he was able, pausing only long enough to wash and change his clothes after the day's work at the foundry. He was a bit nervous. He hoped that Solveig and Korinn had forgotten the circumstances of their introduction.

  Thelvyn found a note waiting for him on the door, telling him to hurry along to the tavern as quickly as he could. When he arrived at the Two Pines Inn, he found that there was already quite a gathering assembled in the large private room in the back. Looking about, he saw that all the village elders were present, and a few other folk besides.

  Although he was the last to enter, the business at hand had not yet begun. Mage Eddan, studiously noble as always, was only now taking his seat in the dark corner well on one side of the fireplace. The mage seemed pleased to retreat into such a secure corner, as far as he could get from the company of foreigners. Mayor Aalsten was seated in his usual place of honor, looking very ill at ease as he stared at his mug of ale, a certain sign that something was wrong.