The House of Yeel (6 page)

Jymoor stepped around to the
side of the room, her legs shaking. As she approached one
rough-hewn wall, a barrier of mist fell away to reveal a glowing
red space beyond.

“We can get back to this,”
Yeel announced. “Let’s at least make a rudimentary scan of the
entire place.”

The tall man shuffled toward
the newly discovered opening. Jymoor saw that he seemed to be
moving with increased difficulty in the mountain niche. Yeel
grunted and made a face as he approached the adjoining passage,
bending his great height down to negotiate the opening. Jymoor
followed him through.

The chamber beyond held five or six sources
of throbbing crimson light. As they left the shattered opening to
the ocean behind in the last room, these glowing points became the
only illumination. They looked like red-hot rubies placed in the
irregular stone walls.

Jymoor immediately saw the red light
reflected in a complex pattern of shiny spheres embedded in a suit
of heavy armor hanging from a rope. This room held shelves of wood
and a small but intricate bed against one wall.

“I recognize that armor! It
belonged to the Crescent Knight! He left on a quest to the Far
Coast looking for you and never came back!”

“He must have run afoul of
Faverhind or his harapins,” Yeel said, approaching the armor. “This
is an artifact of tremendous value. The workmanship is exquisite,
the aura is powerful and multivaried. Pearl and iron, would be my
guess. Copious star stone, with lavish runic enhancement. A fine
treasure to add to my collection.”

“It is amazing. You collect armor as
well?”

“Artifacts. Items of rare excellence in
engineering and art. Things of singular beauty, power, or
craftsmanship. They are usually specialized items, created to
effect one specific purpose very well. What of yourself, Jymoor? Do
you have any fancies that we might satiate? There are many things
for the taking, felwa root here for instance, a yin converter there
hanging on the wall, a pot of diamonds on the table—”

“A pot of diamonds! Really?”

“I jest you not. Right
there, the third one over, yes that’s it. Take all you want. Take
them all. Do you value them personally or do your people regard
them highly as a trade item?”

Jymoor opened her mouth to
answer but a noise distracted her. She turned toward a large
cabinet of shelves and realized that a man stood just around its
edge, trying to flatten himself against its side.

“Who are you?” Jymoor gasped.

“Fear not,” Yeel said,
speaking toward Jymoor. “It is I, Yeel, your close
associate!”

“Not you Yeel. I’m speaking
to that tall man hiding next to the shelves, there.”

The man stepped forward uncertainly. He had a
long beard and a strong frame, although he looked as though his
diet had been poor. He wore torn and dirty clothing, like that of a
common laborer.

“I have no name…I am a
servant…of Faverhind.”

“No longer, dear fellow,”
Yeel said. “Faverhind has been dealt with…I daresay you are now
free, without master, ready to feel the four winds on your face as
an independent agent, should it strike your fancy.”

The man seemed shocked by
this news, or perhaps by Yeel’s circuitous dialogue.

“How did you come to be here?” Jymoor
asked.

The man stared off into
space. “I was…here on a quest. I wore the armor…once, they called
me the Crescent Knight.”

Jymoor made a small
surprised sound. “You’re alive! Of course, as you heard, we thought
you dead.”

“Please accept my apologies, sir,” Yeel
added. “I will, of course, recognize your ownership of the armor. I
will not disturb it further.”

The knight hesitated again.
He looked up at the hanging armor, as if remembering. “Once…but it
belongs to Master Faverhind, now.”

“Oh no,” Yeel said, “He’s
not a problem any longer; you may proceed with your life as you see
fit, at your whim—”

“What he means is that Faverhind is dead, or
as good as dead,” Jymoor said. “Will you please join us, my lord?
We still need you, and Yeel here, to aid us in our battle for
survival. I beg you, don your armor again, and return to your home
as a hero!”

The knight shuffled
nervously. Jymoor examined the tatters of his clothing, and saw the
man looked thin and weak. The knight’s eyes were haunted, and told
of hardship.

“Perhaps I shall,” he said
at last. “If Faverhind is no more…”

“They called you the Crescent Knight since
birth?” Yeel asked. “Is your position a hereditary one in your
society?”

The man shook his head. “I was born with the
name Avorn,” he said.

“It would be rude to refer to him as anything
other than the Crescent Knight, or his lordship,” Jymoor jumped
in.

“No…I am a man like any
other. I will answer to my other name, and take no offense in
it.”

“Well then, my Lord Avorn the Crescent
Knight, do you happen to know how to open the chest secured by
snakes? Or what is inside of it?” Yeel asked.

Avorn walked back into the adjoining room.
Yeel moved to observe him. Jymoor snatched up the small pottery cup
of diamonds that Yeel had mentioned and went after them. The knight
came to the black table that held the snake-secured chest.

“Salvas tiam gettamrat,” the knight muttered.
The entwined serpents immediately released their jaws and slithered
free of each other. They slid gracefully onto the top of the chest
and lay still.

“How did you do that?” Jymoor asked.

“He learned Faverhind’s
keywords,” Yeel answered for the knight. “And what is inside?” he
asked of the sullen ex-prisoner.

“He keeps the things that he has taken from
all those who have come seeking you over the years. Including my
sword, I believe,” Avorn answered.

“Then you shall get it
back,” Yeel said. He reached forward and flipped the lid open.
Jymoor almost yelled out, fearful of the snakes. But they slid
lazily over the table, content to stay near the chest, and they
didn’t make any efforts to attack.

Yeel produced an odd-cut leather pack and
began to move items from the chest into it. Jymoor saw several
interesting things as Yeel plundered the container. There were
jewels, amulets, holy symbols and even a tiny metal facsimile of a
bear with moving limbs. Yeel produced a short sword and handed it
to Avorn.

Jymoor watched the knight as
he regarded his weapon. Holding the sword transformed him with a
wave of confidence or purpose. The man’s shoulders squared and his
jaw set in newfound determination.

“I must retrieve my armor,”
Avorn announced and tromped back into the other room.

“Faverhind’s hold over him
is weakening,” Yeel whispered to Jymoor. “He’s been a servant for
too long, but I sense he will return to a role of leadership
soon.”

Jymoor nodded, glad to hear
Yeel’s analysis. The wizard continued to examine the booty from
Faverhind’s chest. Every third or fourth item would be dropped into
his pack. As Jymoor watched, Yeel took out a black figurine and
turned it in his hands, smiling to himself and secreting it
away.

“Surely the tiny carving is worth less than
that gold dragon,” Jymoor said, pointing at a larger piece that
Yeel had rejected.

“You can carry the dragon
back if you want,” Yeel said. “But it’s heavy, and I already have
enough of that element to suit my needs. The obsidian icon,
however, holds special power.”

Jymoor nodded, accepting
this analysis without question. Yeel possessed so much wisdom that
she hung on the wizard’s every word and tried to absorb the
knowledge as best she could. The man was amazing in so many ways,
she thought.

Soon Avorn reentered the room, clad in his
unique armor. Jymoor noticed that the man seemed more powerful in
this garb, taller and more imposing. Now he looked like a hero, a
huge change from the broken man she had seen earlier.

“Very well, now we’re ready
to travel to your homeland,” Yeel said.

Jymoor nodded. She took one last look at the
amazing chamber, her gaze sweeping over the stacks of treasure. She
considered it with the eye of a storyteller who must describe the
scene at a later time.

“Follow me,” the Crescent Knight said. He
stomped out. Jymoor shrugged and followed, allowing Yeel to take up
the rear. She squinted her eyes as they left the underground
domicile and started to march up the narrow track.

They moved for a few minutes in silence,
making their way back up the cliffside and to the edge of the
forest. They passed the first trees and then found a twisty game
trail that led farther from the ocean. Yeel seemed to make an
enormous amount of noise behind her, yet when Jymoor turned to see
what caused it she saw nothing unusual but the wizard standing
innocently.

She looked down the trail and gasped. Plants
on the side of the trail were crushed, overhanging tree limbs
broken. It was as if a huge beast had crashed through the forest,
smashing everything in its path.

“What’s the matter, my
friend?” Yeel asked. “You gasp as if frightened, perhaps surprised,
to find me, your good friend Yeel behind you. As if we had not
already shared many kind words, two meals, and the common goal
which binds us. Perhaps you thought yourself dreaming, and were
surprised to find it was all real? Or maybe a lapse of memory
resulted in startlement when you turned and saw me, causing you to
remember my presence?”

“What happened to the trail?
The most incompetent court jester could follow what we’ve left
behind!”

Yeel turned to regard the
forest behind them. “Ah…um. I see your point. You refer to the
vegetative damage left in our wake. That would be due to…due to the
inherent…intrinsic, if you will…aura of beings of immense power
such as myself! You didn’t think a being as…incredibly powerful as
the mighty Yeel could pass through such trivial foliage
without…consequences, do you?”

“I’m sorry, my lord! I
haven’t traveled with anyone of your…caliber…before,” Jymoor said.
“Please forgive me,” she begged, bowing before Yeel. This man held
such power that even the trees and bushes of the forest recoiled
before him!

Avorn stared at the carnage behind them as
well, but he held his tongue. He turned and regarded Yeel again.
His hand nervously sought the hilt of his sword and rested upon
it.

“Let’s see how far we can
get before stopping for a bite to eat,” Yeel suggested. “Travel is
really most invigorating. I’d been stuck in there for so long I
really hadn’t taken the effort to review my memories of the outer
world in quite some time. I must admit to some measure of
excitement now that I’m traveling once again.”

Chapter 5: Far from Home?

“Must we stop for the
night?” Yeel asked.

“It would be unwise to continue in darkness,”
Jymoor explained. “We could fall into a crevice, get stung by a
shadow scorpion, any of a number of dangers.”

Yeel knows little of
travel for one so wise
,
she thought.
Or perhaps
one as powerful as he needs not fear such dangers.

The light dimmed as the orb of fire started
to disappear behind the horizon. The travelers had temporarily
emerged from the forest to travel along a rocky ridge that rose
from the surrounding trees.

“This is a simple problem,
easily overcome,” Yeel said. “The need for light is very basic.
Fortunately I am equipped to provide a substitute for our star’s
emanations. I’ll need a few moments to combine the necessary
agents, though.”

Jymoor watched Yeel as he fumbled through one
of his packs. He took out two stones pocked with tiny holes and a
small package wrapped in string.

“Fetch us two straight
sticks, if you would, my friend,” Yeel urged. “I’ll prepare the
stones, so that our efforts might take a minimum of time, and we
can resume our journey momentarily. And thank you for your
help.”

Jymoor carefully made her way into a break in
the rocks where some dead tree limbs had accumulated. She broke
some dry wood and found two branches that might serve. As she
walked back to Yeel, she saw that the stones had started to glow
softly in the waning light. Yeel put the package back into his
larger pack and handed a stone to Jymoor.

Avorn stood well back, as if in fear of the
phenomenon.

“Put the adhesive side
against the stick to wield it,” Yeel said. “And hand me a stick,
please. You see, one of these is for me and one is for you. In that
way we will have one more than strictly necessary, a redundant
setup, affording us extra protection in case of unexpected events
which might deprive us of one source of light. We are, sadly, still
vulnerable to the possibilities depriving us of two or more sources
of light…”

Jymoor traded a stick for a glowing stone.
She stared at the rock, wondering at its inner light.

“Adhesive side?”

“Just put the stick against the top, right
there,” explained Yeel. The wizard placed the end of his stick
against the rock and then released the glowing stone. It clung
neatly onto the end of the stick. Yeel held the assembly up,
casting a white light onto the ground before him.

“Now we can see,” he said.

Jymoor brought her branch into contact with
the stone and the two connected firmly. She waved her stick about,
lighting the area.