Simon Hawke - The Seeker

“I did not mean that purse, ” Sorak said. “I meant the one you secreted in the pocket of your cloak.”

“You’re mad.”

“Am I?” Sorak said. “Then what do you suppose this is?”

His purse came floating up out of the hidden pocket in the pickpocket’s cloak and hovered in front of the thief’s face. For a moment, the elf simply gaped at it, then with a cry of fury, he batted it aside and snatched out his blade. As he lunged forward and brought the sword down in a wide, sweeping arc, Sorak smoothly drew Galdra from its scabbard and parried the blow in the same motion. The elf’s obsidian blade shattered in an explosion of thousands of tiny slivers.

The thief simply gaped in disbelief as Sorak brought the falchionlike point of Galdra to his throat. “My purse,” he said.

The thief glanced around behind him in panic, looking for support, only to see Ryana standing with her dagger at his confederate’s throat. The entire tavern had fallen completely silent. All eyes were upon them, and the slightest whisper would have carried through the room. The thief’s panic-stricken gaze returned to the blade held at his throat, and then he seemed to truly see it for the first time. He marked its unusual shape, the elven steel it was forged of, and the elvish runes inscribed upon the blade. His eyes grew very wide, and he gasped, looking up at Sorak as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Galdra!” he said, in a low voice. He dropped down to his knees and bowed his head. “Forgive me! I did not know!”

An excited murmuring broke out through the tavern. “Get up,” said Sorak. The thief sprang to obey. “Now retrieve my purse.”

“At once,” he said, scampering after it. He picked it up from where it had fallen and brought it to Sorak. “I am but a craven and unworthy thief, my lord. Do with me as you will, but I most humbly beg your pardon.”

“Be silent,” Sorak said. “You talk too much.”

“Yes, my lord, I do. Forgive me.”

“Get out of my sight,” said Sorak.

“Thank you, my lord, thank you,” the elf said, bowing deeply as he backed away. His companion followed with him, also bowing, staring at Sorak and Ryana fearfully. As they left, a number of others slipped out the door, as well.

“Serpent’s teeth!” the tavern keeper said. “What was all that about? Are you a nobleman?”

“No,” said Sorak. “He must have mistaken me for someone else.”

“You are not a nobleman, and yet you carry a blade of rare worth and manufacture. You have the aspect of an elf, yet you are not an elf. And you have the eyes and hair of a halfling. Who are you?”

“He is my friend,” Korahna said, approaching the tavern keeper.

“And who might you be?” said the tavern keeper.

Korahna stepped up close to him and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Look closely, Galavan. Do you not recognize me?”

The tavern keeper frowned and stared at her for a moment, then his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. “Serpent’s teeth!” he whispered. “We thought you were dead!”

“We can discuss that later,” she said. “You know why I have come. These two are my friends, and I vouch for them with my life.”

“Your word is enough for me,” said Galavan. “Come, this way, to the back room.”

He led them around behind the bar and through a curtained archway. “Watch the place,” he said to one of his assistants, and then passed through.

It appeared to be no more than a storeroom with a small table, chair, and lantern. The walls were lined with wooden shelves containing spare goblets, pitchers, plateware, bottles, and other supplies. Galavan approached one of the shelves, reached inside and tripped a hidden switch. Then he swung the entire shelf away from the wall, revealing a dark passage.

“This way,” he said, picking up the lantern from the table and beckoning them inside. He handed the lantern to Korahna, and after they went in, he closed the hidden door behind them.

“Where does this lead?” Ryana asked the princess.

“You will see,” Korahna replied and started to descend the flight of stone steps that led down to a tunnel beneath the street. They walked through the tunnel for a while when they suddenly became aware of greater space around them.

The tunnel walls had ended, and they were in an open area, but it was underground.

“What is this place?” Ryana asked, unable to see much past the glow of the lantern.

“Ruins,” said Sorak, whose vision in the dark allowed him to see far more than she could. “Underground ruins. We are standing in some sort of .”

“Nibenay is built upon the ruins of another ancient city,” said Korahna, “dating back over a thousand years. Neither the templars nor my father know of it, but throughout the city, there are places where access to the ancient city can be found. The Elven Blade is one such place. Galavan is a secret ally of the Veiled Alliance.”

“So what happens now?” Ryana asked.

As if in reply, a score of torches suddenly blazed up all around them, illuminating robed and hooded figures standing in a large circle, surrounding them.

“Welcome home, Korahna,” one of them said. “We have been expecting you.”

One of the robed figures stepped toward them with his torch. As he approached, they could see that his robe was white, and his face within the hood was covered with a white veil.

“These are my friends,” Korahna said. “They helped me to escape captivity and brought me here across the Stony Barrens.”

“You crossed the barrens?” said the hooded man with amazement.

“If not for these two, I never would have survived,” Korahna said. “I owe them my life.” I The hooded figure turned to gaze at Ryana, then at Sorak. “You are the one who is called Sorak, the Nomad?”

“You know me?” Sorak said.

“Your arrival was foretold.”

“By whom?” said Sorak. “By the Sage?”

The Guardian tried to probe him, but the hooded figure merely shook his head. “Do not try to use the Way on me, Nomad. It shall not serve you. I am shielded.”

“Your magic is strong,” said Sorak. “Yes, but not strong enough,” the veiled sorcerer replied. “Regrettably, the Shadow King’s is stronger. We are grateful to you, and to you as well, Priestess, for returning Korahna to us. She will be a great help in our struggle. But you had reasons of your own for bringing her with you.”

“Yes,” said Sorak. “We had hoped that she would help us contact you. We were sent to Nibenay—”

“I know,” the sorcerer said. “We were expecting you, though we did not know in what manner you would arrive, or from where. We thought you might come with a caravan or perhaps by the little-traveled northern trail. .. but across the Stony Barrens: that is a feat that shall be told in tales for a long time to come. I look forward to hearing the details of your journey. However, Korahna can supply them. I fear you shall have other things with which to be concerned.”

“What do you mean?” Ryana asked. “The templars have discovered that the Elven Blade is a contact point for the Alliance. They have been sending spies to watch who comes and goes. We did not learn of this until after Korahna had disappeared, so there was no way she could have known.

“Following your . . . encounter, known informers were seen leaving the tavern in a hurry. They will run straight to the templars. It is unlikely that any of them would have recognized Korahna, but you revealed yourself in your exchange with the thief. Soon the Shadow King shall know of you, and then you shall be in gravest danger.”

“But how could the Shadow King know of my quest to find the Sage?” asked Sorak.

“Do not underestimate the powers of Nibenay,” the wizard said. “Besides, you carry Galdra, the enchanted sword of ancient elven kings. That alone would make him see you as a rival. No defiler would wish to see the elves unite behind one ruler, unless that ruler were himself.”