Anthology: Realms of Valor

"Gold!" exclaimed the lord mayor, forgetting even to keep his voice down. Eagerly he knelt to investigate, holding the lamp over several dozen gilded coins shining up at him from the floor.

"Shouldn't they be dusty?" wondered Stefanik aloud.

"No!" Pawldo's voice hissed with delight. "This place is only here for a fortnight, then it disappears! When is there time for dust to collect?"

"But…." Stefanik's voice trailed away.

The older halfling scooped up the coins and dropped them quickly into his satchel. Their bulk created a satisfying weight in the bottom of the bag.

"Come on!" Pawldo urged, picking up the pace. Half-Ear trotted readily beside him, while Stefanik hurried to stay close behind.

They passed into a huge, vaulted chamber, where the light from their lanterns created little pools of illumination in a great waste of darkness. Stefanik started across the flat floor, but Pawldo called him back.

"Look-niches along the wall. Let's have a look as we go." He held the lantern up between a pair of arches, lighting an empty space, small and square with a high ceiling supported by arching bones.

"Alcoves . . . maybe this is where Ketheryll's Doomed Legion had their quarters!" whispered Stefanik, awestruck and terrified.

"Maybe," Pawldo said, then added triumphantly, "but they're empty now! There's no haunted guards here, waiting to suck out your soul. So much for the old legends!"

"No treasure, either," the younger halfling countered.

"Patience, Sprout. We've barely begun to search."

Pawldo moved on, following the row of nearly identical compartments. He checked the next, and the one after- and in a few moments he was rewarded.

"What do you know?" he announced smugly, kneeling down to lift a small statuette, a figure of a crouching lion, from the floor. Like the gold coins, it gleamed as if it had been freshly polished. "Pure silver, with rubies for eyes!"

Quickly he popped the object into his satchel, continuing his explorations. Before he had completed his investigation of the room, which took the better part of an hour, a pair of golden earrings, an emerald-studded brooch, and a jeweled headband had joined the objects in his bag. The shaggy wolf followed him through the entire circuit, yellow eyes sparkling in the torchlight as if he, too, understood the worth of their finds.

"If these were the chambers of Ketheryll's loyal followers," Stefanik observed, "they must have lived in pretty cramped quarters!"

"Look here!" Pawldo stooped to lift another gleaming treasure from the floor. "It's another figurine," he added softly, turning over the hand-sized image of a human warrior. He examined it carefully, then drew in his breath. There, at the base of the figurine's back, he saw the faint outline of a skull.

"Shouldn't we get going?" asked Stefanik as Pawldo cinched up the bag.

"There's lots more of this place to explore," Pawldo replied with a firm shake of his head.

He led the other halfling on a winding, circuitous exploration of the Palace of Skulls. Half-Ear preceded them along some corridors, while Pawldo's curiosity and intuition took them down others. They found high galleries and a great ballroom, and even a deep pit that Pawldo guessed had been the Circus Bizarre. It was surrounded by rings of benches, all made from various pieces of bone.

Here Pawldo almost overlooked a pair of rings. Unlike the other treasures, these lay under a thin film of dust and dirt. Each was inscribed with a stamp in the image of the Great Bear. After a quick appraisal-the gold was pure, Pawldo decided-he dropped the items into his satchel with the rest.

"The bears prove it!" Stefanik said. 'The story is true - he did kill the king and queen who bore that symbol as their own!"

Several more treasures yielded themselves to the intrepid explorers-or to Pawldo, actually, for Stefanik spent most of the time staring wide-eyed into the shadows, urging the older halfling to hurry. Yet the lord mayor of Low-hill would not be rushed. He found a gem-studded necklace and bracelets that, he felt certain, were fully equal to the worth of a large house. A few steps later a tiny crystal image of a knight on horseback caught his eye with its glittering diamond facets and slender lance of platinum. Half-Ear paced along ahead of him, nosing the shadows, looking back with apparent impatience at the halfling.

They pressed around a corner and found a stairway leading up. Pawldo didn't hesitate to start climbing, with Stefanik following reluctantly, his eyes wide, flicking this way and that at the grotesque death's-heads lining the walls to both sides.

"Wait! I think I saw something!" hissed the youth.

"What? Where? More gold?" asked Pawldo, whirling around on the stairs.

"No-something moved!" wailed Stefanik. "Down there- something darkl"

Pawldo followed his companion's trembling gesture, but he could make out nothing beyond the shadows cloaking the foot of the stairs. The light from their lanterns seemed suddenly a very feeble counter to the oppressive darkness. As Pawldo held the sputtering flame, the halfling felt acutely conscious that its illumination made him perfectly visible to someone-or something -lurking within the gloom.

Quickly he shuttered the vessel, ordering Stefanik to do the same. In the fullness of the dark, they waited soundlessly. Slowly their eyes adjusted to the murk. Though they could see nothing in the way of detail, the vague contours of the walls and stairway gradually took form around them.

"Stay here!" commanded Pawldo, setting down his oil lamp. He drew his short sword, little relishing the familiar weight in his hand. Then, as an additional precaution, he reached into the satchel and took out the platinum dagger. Holding the smaller blade with his left hand, he raised his sword and started down the stairs. He felt the reassuring presence of Half-Ear's shaggy flank beside him.

Step by careful step he descended, brandishing the sword with more menace than he felt. He reached the bottom step, then felt the smooth floor of the corridor under his feet. Staring to the left and right, he could barely make out the obscure outlines of the passageway. Beside him, Half-Ear's rapid breathing created a taut cadence for his fear.

"There's nothing down here," he whispered. Stefanik made no sound on the stairs, so Pawldo repeated the observation more loudly.

The silence up the stairs was more frightening than anything he'd imagined in the shadows.

"Stefanik!" he barked.

But still there came no answer.

Pawldo and the wolf bounded up the stairway, stumbling into the soft mound of his satchel. Sheathing his sword, he fumbled for the lantern and opened the shutter.

Stefanik was gone, though the youngster's lantern rested on the step above the satchel. Desperately the lord mayor looked up the rest of the stairway-the young halfling could not have gone down the stairs without being seen, and Pawldo had noticed no doors. Cold terror seized Pawldo, along with a profound sense that disaster had overtaken them with stunning speed.

Shrugging the pack over one shoulder, the halfling took the lantern, albeit awkwardly, in his left hand. Again drawing his sword, he started up the remaining steps, ten or twelve in number, until he came to a landing, where wide corridors extended in three directions.

"Stefanik!" he called again.

Pawldo felt a wave of awful loneliness sweep over him. Suddenly the treasures in his satchel, the lure of wealth that had compelled him farther and farther through this dolorous palace, paled to insignificance against the weight of his young companion's life.

Half-Ear growled softly. Then the wolf started down the middle passageway, pausing after a few steps to look back at the halfling.