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“I said that we might as well see if we can figure out where our next destination is,” Tor repeated, frowning at Sam. “Why?”
“No before that,” she said, sounding slightly flustered.
“I cannot remember exactly what I said. Something about the will I think.”
“No,” Dal interrupted. “You called something a stupid tontine.”
Tor shrugged. “Tontine is another name for a will.”
“Actually it isn’t,” Sam informed him. “What made you think it was?”
“I think Albian called it a tontine when he was reading the details of the quest, so I assumed that it was an official name for a will.” He looked questioningly at Cirren.
“Yes,” the younger man said. “Albian definitely called it a tontine. Why does it matter?”
“Tontine is a French word, I think. Basically a group of people all pay an amount into an investment and the annual profits are shared equally between them. As the members of the group die, there are less people to share between, so each person receives more. The last person left alive gets everything.”
Patrick shook his head. “I do not follow. How does this affect Tor and his quest?”
“I once saw a TV show,” Sam continued, stopping when she saw the blank expressions on the faces in front of her. “Like a play,” she explained. She knew this was not entirely accurate but did not want to be sidetracked by having to go into full details about what a television was and how it worked. She also did not want to admit that she didn’t fully understand exactly how television signals were created, sent and transformed into moving pictures. “A man was dying. Just before he died, he left his entire life savings, his money, property, everything, to four complete strangers, chosen at random. However, it was not to be divided between them. The last one of them left alive would inherit the lot.”
“So what happened?” Dal enquired.
“They tried to kill each other.”
There was a stunned silence for a moment, broken by Ellen. “I still do not understand.”
Sam turned to look at Tor. “If the will truly is a tontine, then it is not the son who gets to the final destination first that will take the crown, but the only one who is left alive.”
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Except for Sam, nobody even breathed.
“Are you sure?” Brin finally asked her.
“As sure as I can be.”
“That explains about Gallad,” Tor said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Cirren asked instantly.
Tor placed his hand comfortingly on his brother’s shoulder. “We arrived at one of the terminal destinations the same time as Gallad and his team. We fought and I got the last clue.” His voice broke as he continued. “Gallad killed himself.”
Cirren paled and looked at the ground. “The same thing happened to Hillan,” he said in a soft, shaky voice. He raised his head and looked Tor in the eye. “I got the last clue on Mount Unjar. I picked it up and almost immediately I heard a scream. I looked round and saw a body fall past me, landing on a ledge below. Using ropes, we lowered ourselves down to it and when I rolled the corpse over, Hillan’s dead face looked up at me. I assumed that he just lost his footing and it was purely coincidental that it happened just as I obtained the last clue. Maybe it was not a coincidence after all.”
Tears were flowing down both brothers’ faces. Tor looked at Ellen. “Could a spell have been put on us, making us kill ourselves once the last available clue was taken?” he asked.
Ellen thought for a while. “I know of no such spell,” she finally announced. “But that does not mean that one does not exist. With magic, almost anything is possible. Maybe Bellak would know.”
“I will ask him when he returns. In the meantime, if you do not know the spell, then I will take it for granted that you do not know how to break it.” Receiving confirmation from Ellen, Tor looked around at the friends assembled before him. “Does anyone have any suggestions as to what we do now? As soon as Cirren and I take our clues, we condemn another of our brothers to death.”
“What would happen if only one of you takes a clue and then you work together?” Seth asked.
Ban shook his head. “That will not work. The spell will probably not know that they are working together so the other one will kill himself as soon as all remaining clues have been claimed. Somehow the spell must know when one of the brother’s takes a clue.”
“Then why not take one together,” Ria suggested. “If you both take the same one at the same time, you will leave enough behind for your three remaining brothers.” She winced. “Sorry, I did not mean to sound that callous.”
“Do not worry about it,” Tor assured her. “And it is a good suggestion.” He looked at Cirren. “Are you prepared to try?”
Cirren swallowed, then nodded, unable to find his voice. The two brothers returned to the back of the wooden door through which they had escaped the maze and looked at the four scrolls attached to it.
“On the count of three, take hold of the one on the left,” Tor instructed. Cirren nodded and held out his hand towards the assigned scroll. Tor did the same and Cirren smiled when he realised that his was not the only hand that was shaking.
“One. Two. Three.” On the third count, both brothers simultaneously took hold of the scroll. With his free hand, Tor removed the nail that was pinning it to the door and they walked slowly back to the others, who had been watching with bated breath. Without breaking contact with the parchment, they unrolled it and, by the light of the moon, each read it carefully before passing it to Patrick, who read it out loud.
I grow where no man dares to tread
My stem is blue, my petals red
My scent arouses great desire
Drink me to quench any fire
Take me to the valley deep
Where rests Dathos in his keep
Burn me as an offering
Then the next stage will begin
“Back to Allias to consult his library again I suppose,” Seth suggested.
“Not necessarily,” Ellen said. “Let me read that first bit again.”
Patrick handed over the scroll and Ellen read the clue for herself. “I think I may know the plant that we need, but I will need to consult a wise woman.”
“Then we head to the nearest village as soon as it is light,” Tor instructed.
“Why can’t we leave now?” Sam asked.
“Regrettably we need to wait for Bellak and Samson to return.” Tor grinned. “I will miss the old wolf if we go on without him.” It was not clear whether Tor was talking about Samson or Bellak, but Sam suspected it was not the wizard that Tor would regret leaving behind.
For the first time in what felt like years rather than days, they had a fire. The effect on the party was astounding. Despite the exhaustion they were all feeling, the banter that had been missing since they first entered the maze returned. The warmth of the fire penetrated their souls as well as their bodies and they relaxed, becoming a happy group of friends once more. All quarrels and disagreements had been forgiven, if not forgotten, and they managed to put death out of their minds, at least for a while.
Thresnine, hearing the sound of running water, informed Sam that there was a stream nearby and Seth and Dal went searching for it. The last of their food supplies were unpacked and it was a pitiful sight. Stale bread that was too hard to bite into, dried beef, wrinkled carrots and a few apples that had definitely seen better days. Only Liselle had had the foresight to collect extra drupacea berries. Oak and River went foraging for edible plants while Tor took Patrick, Brin and Ban in search of game they could hunt. They were all used to looking for food during the night, so the darkness would not pose a great problem for them.
Dal and Seth were the first to return, laden down with containers of fresh water. Both appeared to be sulking.
“You two been fighting again?” Ellen asked.
“No,” Seth replied miserably. “We found a small stream full of clear cool water and not a single fish in sight.”
“Cheer up,” Ellen replied, laughing. “It is your turn to cook. What can you do with this lot?”
Seth looked at the supplies spread out on the ground and groaned. He took their largest cooking pot and filled it half full with water before putting it on the fire to heat up. While the water was boiling, he finely chopped all of the food, including the bread, then tipped everything into the pot. Next he rummaged through his backpack for some of the jars he always carried with him, selected three of them and added a little from each. He stirred gently as the mixture simmered.
Using a wooden spoon, he tasted it before holding it out to Ellen. “That tastes great,” she told him. “But is there enough for us all?”
“No,” he replied truthfully, not wishing to beat around the bush. “I hope the hunting parties come back with something to add to it.”
As if his words had summoned them, Oak and River emerged from the woods, their arms laden with edible roots and leaves, all freshly washed. Sam took the roots gratefully and quickly trimmed and chopped them. Seth tasted each variety of leaf before adding it to the pot; River found this very amusing.
“Do you not trust us?” she asked with a smile.
Seth did not realise she was teasing him. “I have this tasting pretty good. I do not want to add any flavours that will spoil it.” Knowing that neither River nor Oak would eat any of the stew he was making, he made sure he left out enough of the food they had collected to satisfy the two hungry sprites. River had also found a large supply of nuts, which everyone could share as a dessert if the stew did not stretch far enough.
Just as Seth was getting ready to dish up the food, the errant hunters returned, carrying a wild boar. The stew was rapidly eaten then the men set to work on the carcass while the ladies washed the dishes in the stream. The horses had been allowed to wander and had also made their way to the water’s edge, where they found some delicious tasting bushes. Sam commented that they looked very content as they munched.
After much debate, it was decided that roasting the boar on a spit over the fire would be the best plan. Ban and Torrick searched for suitable sticks while Brin found vine that was tough enough to tie the legs together. Seth taught Dal the best way to gut a slaughtered animal, placing all of the innards, including the heart and liver, in a large bowl for when Samson returned.
“I thought humans could eat some of that,” Dal said, gesturing towards the bowl of entrails.
“We can,” Seth informed him. “Some of it even tastes quite good. If you wish to fight a hungry wolf for that while the rest of us eat the meat, be my guest. Personally, I am happy to let Samson have it.” When it was put to him that way, Dal could do nothing but agree.
When the preparation of the boar was complete, it was attached to the makeshift spit and placed over the fire. It would take a long time to cook properly so volunteers were called for to keep an eye on it during the night, while it slowly roasted. Everyone took it in turns to sleep, stand guard and turn the roasting pork. The night passed uneventfully and the boar provided a wonderful breakfast. Bellak and Samson returned as the sun was beginning to rise and ravenously fell on their food. Neither commented when asked where they had been, but Bellak was gracious enough to say that he had found what appeared to be a rough path running through the forest.
Brin and Oak climbed the tallest trees they could find and confirmed that, in the same direction as the path appeared to be heading, they could see a thinning of trees which could well indicate the edge of the forest. As they had no idea where they were or in which direction the nearest village lay, it was agreed that following the path was their best option.
It took them the entire day, but eventually they walked out from between the trees into open grassland. Though the sun had been shining brightly all day, the evening was turning cool.
“I would rather not spend another night in the open if I can help it,” Tor surprised them by saying. “Can anyone suggest in which direction civilisation may lie?”
Brin once again climbed up a tree and looked around. His superior eyesight picked out smoke on the horizon and he informed Tor as soon as he descended. Smoke indicated people, so they headed towards it.
Night had well and truly fallen by the time they walked into the village. The smoke was coming from the chimneys of a number of the buildings, most of which appeared to be houses. Signs hanging in front of some of them announced a bakery, a blacksmith and a general store, while a large building at the end of the street looked very much like an inn.
“Wait here while I enquire about rooms for the night,” Tor instructed before heading through the door, Ellen by his side. He soon returned to announce that there were not enough rooms for them all, but he had arranged for pallets and bedding to be moved into the largest room for the women to share and the men would manage in the three remaining smaller rooms. He had also arranged for food to be served, which the innkeeper’s daughters were already preparing.
“I have also organised for a tub in the back room to be filled with hot water so we can take turns bathing,” Ellen said to Ria, Liselle, Sam and River. As the ladies entered the inn, Tor turned to Seth, Dal and Ban.
“Ban, my friend, you are too large to comfortably fit in any of the beds they have available. Would you mind sleeping in the hay loft with these two youngsters?”
“No problem,” he replied, smiling. “I will keep them out of mischief.” While the three of them led the horses round the back to the stables, Tor took the rest of the men into the inn and purchased a few pitchers of ale. He pretended not to notice Seth pass Dal one of the tankards when they returned, having finished seeing to their mounts. They had made sure they had adequate hay, oats and water and ensured that the stable hands were giving them a proper rub down. It had been a very long and difficult journey through the maze and the young man had earned a proper drink, though Tor would only allow him the one.
By the time food arrived, the ladies had all bathed and changed clothes, as had Patrick. A quick wash was good enough for the rest as they did not want the food to go cold. The food was simple; roast chicken, boiled potatoes and green beans with freshly baked bread followed by fruit pie for dessert; but it tasted wonderful and everyone cleared their plate, though Oak and River refused to even try the delicious meat. Before retiring for the night, Tor retrieved a map from his personal effects and, with the innkeeper’s help, worked out where they were. It turned out they were still in Emvale, not far from the Auxland border.
“The quickest way back to Vada will be to follow this river towards Kinfen, then head south.”
“If we have to go back to Vada,” Ellen interrupted.
“How long before you can confirm your theory?” Tor asked her.
“I will find the local witch first thing in the morning. If she cannot help me, she should be able to point me towards someone who can.”
“What do we do about Hawk?” Sam asked. “If we do not return to Allias’s palace, how will he know where to meet us?”
“I had not thought of that,” Tor admitted. “But I do not want to make such a large detour if I do not have to.”
“I may be able to help,” one of the innkeeper’s daughters said. She had wandered over to the table they were all crowded around to collect their empty mugs, but had been prevented from leaving by Cirren, who was trying to impress her by pointing out that he was a Prince. He was not getting very far with her as, not only did she not believe him, but she had been making eyes at Patrick all evening. Patrick, however, was doing his best to avoid her gaze, having spied the size of the axe her father kept under the bar. She had been content to stay with Cirren, ignoring his attempts to seduce her, while sitting close to Patrick and listening in on the conversation.
“And just how can you help?” Ellen asked a little viciously. The girl looked no more than fourteen, but the fact that she had unlaced the front of her bodice to reveal more of her amble bosom and the way she had been looking at Patrick made Ellen wonder if she was after more adult entertainment. Her thoughts were confirmed when the girl replied.
“I will tell you in the morning, if he persuades me to tonight.” While Patrick choked, Ellen sighed. This young minx badly needed to learn subtlety. “Just do not let my father find out,” she added in a whisper.
“Regrettably I must decline,” Patrick said once he had recovered from his coughing fit. “The last time I entertained a young lady I ended up in jail and it is an experience I do not want to repeat.” Before any more could be said, he stood up and walked out of the room.
“Bother,” the young lady said, pouting.
“Don’t sulk,” Sam said. “It doesn’t suit you.” Cirren, who had also been looking crestfallen as soon as the barmaid had declared her interest to be in Patrick and not himself, instantly changed the look on his face, before realising that Sam was not talking to him.
“Just exactly how can you help us?” Tor said in an encouraging voice.
“My brother lives in Vada. We have messenger pigeons for whenever we need to get news to him. If you send a message to my brother, I am sure he will ensure it reaches your friend. Where is he staying?”
“At the palace,” Tor informed her. The change on her whole bearing was dramatic. Where she had been slouching, she now pulled herself up and smiled sweetly.
“Is he a close friend of the King’s?”
Seeing exactly where this was going, Sam answered the question the girl’s face was asking instead of the one her voice did. “He is not available.”
“I thought you were with him,” she replied, inclining her head towards Brin, who was holding Sam’s hand.
“I am. Hawk is just a close friend. Let’s just say that he’s not your type.”
“And what makes you so sure of that?”
“He’s a vampire.” All colour drained from the young lady’s face. She stood up and mumbled that they should speak to her father if they wanted a message sent and quickly departed. As soon as she was out of earshot, both Sam and Ellen burst out laughing.
“I fail to see what is so funny,” Cirren said in her defence.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Sam said, wiping a tear from her eye. Seeing the look on the Prince’s face, she burst out laughing once more.
As there was nothing more to discuss, the ladies decided to get an early night. The daughter who had suggested using the messenger pigeon was alone behind the bar as Sam passed.
“That one really is a Prince you know,” she whispered to her, pointing over her shoulder at Cirren. She looked back before leaving the room to see a fresh mug of beer being placed in front of him and the girl sitting on his knee once more.
“At least one of us is going to have some fun tonight,” she said wistfully before closing the door behind her.
The next morning, after a large breakfast, the group split up. Ellen went in search of the witch’s cottage to which she had received directions the previous evening; Seth took Dal to the stables to teach him how to check the horses for any sign of lameness or hoof rot; Tor took Ban and Ria with him to the general store to purchase supplies for the next leg of their journey; Patrick went to find a tailor and the rest went exploring the outlying farmland to see what fresh fruit, vegetables and meat they could buy. They met back at the inn at midday, having all had a successful morning. The neighbouring farms had agreed to provide them with enough food to last them a week. All of the horses were declared fit and healthy. Tor and Ria had bought blankets to replace those they had ruined in the maze, and some travellers bread, which was specially made to stay edible for weeks, and had even managed to persuade the blacksmith to part with his spare cart; they would be riding again instead of walking, much to everyone’s relief. The bakery would supply a dozen fresh loaves whenever the group were ready to leave. Patrick’s shirts would be ready first thing in the morning, so he said he would have to catch them up if they wished to depart that day. After a quick discussion, it was agreed to remain in the village for one more night, as long as their rooms were still available. Tor spoke to the innkeeper, who was more than happy to continue to have their business.
Ellen was the last to return, having spent a productive few hours with the local witch, exchanging knowledge and restocking her medicine supply.
“I was right,” she said when asked if the witch agreed with the idea about the clue. “We need to get hold of a lomas flower. As the clue states, it is blue with red petals. It has been used in the past to create a perfume that men find very appealing, though it is nowhere near as potent as hemper, and a medicine can be made from it that cures most fevers.”
“That covers three of the lines in the first verse, but what about the first one, ‘I grow where no man dares to tread’?” Bellak asked.
Ellen smiled. “That is what made me think of it in the first place. There is only one place that the lomas flower is known to grow.”
“And that is?” Tor encouraged her to continue, knowing that he was not going to like what she said next.
“Queen Tibia’s private garden. We need to make a trip to Tennel.”