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Taker Of Skulls(4)

By:William King


Kormak opened the letter. In it was a message in a variant of the Old Tongue understood by very few these days. It said: Listen to what Lady Karnea has to say, inspect the object she bears and then do all within your power to ensure her quest’s success. Keep her alive at the cost of your life if need be. He recognised the hand-writing of Grandmaster Darius.

Kormak folded the letter, tore it to shreds and threw it into the fire. He stirred the pieces with the poker, until he saw they were all consumed. His jaw tightened. It was all very well for Darius to talk about laying down his life if need be. He would not be the one doing the dying.

“It seems I am to be your bodyguard,” he said. He could not keep the edge of anger from showing in his voice.

Karnea’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “Is that such a terrible thing?”

“I am a Guardian of the Order of the Dawn,” Kormak said. “It is my task to uphold the Law, not watch over sorcerers.”

“Not all sorcerers serve the Shadow.”

“In my experience those who don’t usually serve themselves.”

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed. She suddenly looked a lot more menacing. “Perhaps you should hear me out before you judge,” she said.

“Show me this thing that the Grandmaster writes of,” Kormak said. Karnea rolled up her sleeves. A metal band glittered on her forearm. It hung there loosely, as if it had been made for a larger arm and poorly adjusted to her more slender limb.

She stepped closer and held it up so he could see it. Inset in the metal was a rune. It shimmered like quicksilver.

“Notice anything unusual about it?” Karnea asked.

“It’s dwarf work, of an odd sort.”

“Notice anything else?” Her tone was that of a teacher disappointed in a pupil being slow of uptake. It was a tone Kormak had heard quite often during his training on Mount Aethelas, when Karnea had sometimes lectured there.

“There is something about the rune. It is similar to those on my blade.”

She let out a long sigh. “It is. Have you ever seen its like before?”

He thought for a moment. “No.”

She smiled at that. The dim pupil was showing some sign of intelligence after all.

“And you won’t have. It is one of the Lost Runes.”

“What?”

“Of the one hundred and forty four great runes, only sixty-three are currently recorded.”

“Then how do you know this is one of the Lost?”

She walked over to the fire, thrust her hand into it, picked up a red hot coal. She walked over to where he stood and opened her fingers. Kormak could feel the heat radiating from the coal. Her fingers were not burned though. She showed no sign of discomfort. She tossed the coal back into the fireplace and then touched his cheek with her hand. It felt cool. Her touch was curiously intimate.

She stepped back. She opened her hands and spoke a word. A runic symbol the same as the one on her arm appeared between her fingers, written in lines of fire that slowly faded.

“This is Mankh, the Rune of Firebinding. It absorbs heat and then unleashes it at the user’s command. It is a tool, a protection and a weapon. It is referred to in ancient tales but nowhere have we found a copy. Until now.”

“How did you come by it?”

“It showed up nine months ago, carried to my home by a trader who had heard of my interest in dwarven relics and felt he would get a good price.”

“Did he?”

“Not as much as he deserved. This is a treasure without price to students of the Khazduri.”

“And that’s why we are here?”

“I questioned the merchant to find out where the rune originated. The trail led here.”

“You believe it came from Khazduroth?”

“He bought it from a prospector here in Varigston who found it in the deeps below Khazduroth. He told me the rune had been found by looters amid the remains of a dwarvish forge.”

“Where is this merchant now?”

“On his way back to Northrock, having been told that he will get the same price if he brought me more.”

“You told him what it was, of course?”

She pursed her lips, perhaps resenting the fact that he was mocking her. “Of course not.”

“You did not want him suspecting the true value of what he had.”

“It would be impossible to tell him the true value. Such runes have powerful magical properties—as I have just demonstrated.”

“And you feel there might be more like it.”

“Where one Lost Rune is found, there might be more. Khazduroth was only rediscovered just over four summers ago. Who knows what’s down there?”

“You want to find out.”