Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) (36 page)

“Well, there is obviously nothing more to say
on this matter,” he said dumbly, obviously shaken by this
revelation and probably by her threat of the King's punishment as
well. “But be forewarned that you are getting yourself in over your
head.” He left her then, and she found it difficult to focus
properly on her financials after being so worked up by the
conversation. She took another stroll through the pens instead,
happy to see that the servants had indeed covered the evidence,
before she headed back to her regular manor for the night.

CHAPTER 31

Layna and Gryffon rode into Dunlop just as
the sun was hitting its peak in the sky. Charles had opted to camp
outside the settlement, saying that he preferred the great outdoors
in addition to his earlier statement of staying away from the evil
of the place. Weylyn seemed to agree with this sentiment. He had
kept pace with them for some time, but as the smoke from the
chimneys came into view, he vanished into the wilderness.

The golden rays of afternoon sunshine beat
down on the city, and Layna could see that at one point it must
have been quite a sight during the Dark King's era. Massive
buildings towered over the countryside around it, and up on a hill
in the distance an even larger ruin sat – the remnants of the Dark
King's castle in the Shadowlands. The fortress now lay in shambles,
with no one wanting to set foot in the dreaded place. It lay
crumbling, prone to the ravages of time with no one to care for it.
It was a shame that such an incredible artifice of history should
be so left to the mercy of the elements.
But then again, who
wants to set foot in a place that had literally been built with
blood?
It stood on the outskirts of town, casting its shadow
over the land. It was an eerie presence, a stoic reminder of its
dark past. The town itself was in similar state, though much better
cared for.

After the Dark King's overthrow, Dunlop had
found itself an abandoned city save for the few loyal locals who
refused to leave their land no matter the blood that had been
spilled upon it. A new capital had been named in Naoham, leaving
the Shadowlands so renamed as a reminder to its past. Dunlop had
eventually regained some of its former glory and several of the
buildings had been refurbished to their original splendor. Most
buildings save for the Dark Fortress itself had been gone through
and either left for ruin or had been at least half-heartedly
redone.

The inn that they came to was one of the
nicer buildings; the walls had been neatly replaced where they had
been crumbling. The only evidence of this having been done was the
slightly different coloration in a few areas, and it looked like
new wood and windows had been put in. The sign had been scratched
out and redone to display the new name of “The Phoenix”, which
Layna thought was rather fitting given the rebirth of the town.

Gryffon had explained to her on the way that
Dunlop in its prime had been a flourishing city. Though technically
the capital had been Cheston, the city where the Shadowlands now
occupied, Dunlop was close enough that it had benefited from the
old capital's wealth – which the Dark King had made even more
lavish by spending exorbitant amounts of money to make
impressive.

So far they hadn't yet seen any wanted
posters, but they still kept their eyes peeled for militia men who
may be looking for them. It seemed as though they had once again
beaten the word here. Their new disguises gave Layna some piece of
mind as well. If there was someone lurking in the shadows looking
for them, at least they'd see a dark-haired woman and her bearded
companion instead of the blond girl and clean-shaven man they were
sent to look for.

They made their way inside the inn, and went
through the bartering routine with the inn-keep for their rooms.
Once they had settled themselves in, they made their way down to
the common room. There, they struck up conversations in hopes that
they would find someone willing to talk to them about the fortress
and the rumored secret tomb. Gryffon had told her that the castle
that they could see up on the hill was the old palace where the
Dark King had held court during his reign. While this seemed bad
enough to Layna, apparently there was another, secret fortress
somewhere hidden underground nearby where a lot of the nastier
events had taken place. This secret locale was also rumored to be
the Dark King's final resting place after the Bloodguard moved his
remains.

They had no luck the first few days, as the
people in town seemed wary of them. They got quite a few nasty
looks and criticizing comments at their guise as treasure-seekers.
On the third day, an older man came into the tavern shortly after
them. He slowly shuffled to the bar next to them, picking his way
deliberately across the floor. He pulled himself up onto the stool
with difficultly, but waved away Gryffon's offer of help.

“Thanks, laddy, but if I can't pull myself up
onto the stool then I shouldn't be in here anymore, and the draw of
the ale is just too much for me to deny.” He gave them a
one-toothed grin and called out to the barmaid that he would have
the usual.

Gryffon started up some small talk with the
man, even buying him a drink, and slowly led the conversation
around to the ruins. “What do you know about the ruins up there?”
Gryffon asked, “We've heard that there's treasure there.”

“Don't you go looking for treasure there,
boy, the only treasure you'll find is the kind that will poison
your lives. That's if you even made it in and out in one piece.
There have been plenty who've tried, oh yes. I've seen your kind
before, all young and on top of the world, thinking that nothing
can hurt them. Despite all the other people who have tried and
failed, they think their ideas are going to get them in. But you
listen closely, ain't nobody gonna get into those tombs, they were
sealed up good and tight they were, and made sure that no one'd
ever set foot inside alive again. They say the Dark King is buried
there and his spirit haunts the hallways. No, no, no just stay away
from there. Nothing but bad news, and I like you.” The man gave
Gryffon a friendly jab in the shoulder. Unfortunately, it was with
the hand that held his mug of ale, and he splashed it all over
Gryffon, who smothered a laugh. The old man didn't seem to notice.
“There's weird stuff that went on up there for sure. Lots of
strange markings on the walls, old runes if you ask me. Bloodrunes.
You don't want anything to do with blood-magic do you?” he asked,
suddenly suspicious, and he peered at them through increasingly
unfocused eyes.

Layna fought hard not to raise a hand to
cover her neck, knowing that the movement would be conspicuous. She
was conscious of the possibility that her own mark might look just
like one of those old runes, and she waited for Gryffon to reply.
“We don't approve of blood-magic,” he answered sternly and went on,
fishing for more information. “I heard that the actual entrance to
the tomb is outside of the main fortress ruins anyway,” he said
casually while Layna tried to make her hand relax in her lap and
ignore the urge to touch her neck. Unfortunately, the chain to the
charm that hung around her neck was now rubbing just on the place
where the mark was, and it was making Layna want to itch it like
mad.

“That's what the stories say,” the man
said.

“Just what are the stories?” Gryffon
prompted.

The man seemed to have imbibed enough alcohol
that he was in a talkative mood, and he indulged Gryffon. “The
stories say that the great hulking castle out there isn't where the
real action took place. They say that there was another, hidden
location that the Dark King saved for the really important stuff.
Ask me, the castle itself is bad enough. I went there once.” The
man shuddered visibly. “They say there's another one though, and
it's said to be in the hills of the Shadowlands somewhere. There
are even those who claim to have seen his followers even now,
coming and going from the hidden tomb in great big black
cloaks.”

“Where in the hills?” Gryffon asked, leaning
forward in his seat excitedly.

“Hmph,” was the old man's grunted reply. He
showed no further indication that he had any information as to the
whereabouts of this hidden entrance, and every indication that he
was losing interest in Gryffon in favor of his mug of ale.

Gryffon and the man exchanged a few other
pleasantries before it became obvious that the older gentleman was
far too intoxicated to think straight, much less speak in coherent
sentences. Layna found it impossible to ignore the itching
sensation and focus on their conversation, and she finally settled
on removing the offending necklace. She quickly ducked out of it
and placed it in her pocket as the man took a large gulp.

Gryffon eventually excused the two of them,
and they weaved through the growing bar crowd and out into the
night, wandering the streets. “It's pretty amazing how affected the
town still is by the Dark King's presence, even after all this
time,” Layna commented.

“For sure,” agreed Gryffon. “The aura of fear
is still here, almost thick enough to touch. If you watch, the
people still glance up at the castle with trepidation as they walk
under its shadow. Perhaps we should take a trip up there and see
what we can find out.”

“What, in the middle of the night?” Layna
asked him as if he were crazy.

“That way people won't ask questions why
we're going there, and we might find out something useful,” he said
reasonably. He waited for her reply, and added when she wasn’t
forthcoming with it, “Plus, we can both conjure mage lights, so
seeing will be no problem.”

“It's not seeing that I'm worried about,”
muttered Layna, but reluctantly agreed. As much as it frightened
her, it nagged at her curiosity as well.
Besides, after Jezebel
and her blood-beasts, what could they possibly come up against in
an abandoned building that would be worse?

They sneaked through the shadows to the edge
of town and mounted Axe and Fly. It was a fairly quick ride to
where the massive castle stood, its gigantic form tainted with evil
so pronounced that Layna could feel it leaching out of its stones
without even touching the power.

They left the horses tied outside, and
carefully circumvented the gate that had been half-heartedly
constructed to keep people away. They stepped lightly across the
drawbridge, which creaked with age under their feet. The portcullis
was halfway down, and they ducked underneath it quickly. Layna had
the awful sensation that it might come crashing down on her at any
second, spearing her with its ghastly sharp spikes.

Layna glanced up at the murder holes in the
ceiling as they passed underneath them, and saw with horror that
though they were now plugged with age-old grime, tar still stained
the edges. Evidence that at one time they really had been used. She
breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the other side and were
under the fresh air and stars once more.

They jogged across the massive courtyard, and
their feet made soft pattering sounds as they climbed the stairs
towards the main entrance to the castle. Layna could see where the
weather had taken its toll on the stones here as well. They were
crumbling around the edges, and a few of the statues that had once
stood proudly guarding the door, had toppled over and cracked or
shattered. Moss and lichen covered every surface, vines snaked up
the sides of the walls, and a tree had even pushed its way through
the cobblestone. The gigantic wooden door was peeling and the
ironwork was rusted.

It was still impressive.

Gryffon pushed open the door with surprising
ease, and they carefully stepped over the threshold. Inside, the
evidence of looters was predominant; there was not a single piece
of gold trim, furnishings, or anything else of value to be seen.
The room seemed mammoth, its vast empty space seeming to extend for
miles. Their footsteps echoed alarmingly loud, and the moonlight
shone in with soft radiance through the once beautiful windows.
Gryffon whistled, impressed, and this sound too reverberated off
the walls with eerie clarity. A tangy, brackish stench filled the
air. Torn skeletal flags, once displayed proudly along the high
ceiling, now dangled mournfully, blowing ever so slightly in the
wind coming through broken stained glass.

They picked their way through the mess of
rotting and broken furniture, glass shards, and vegetation that had
been blown in or had started to grow up through the stone floor. It
made it uneven in spots, and they had to watch their footing as
they came to stand before the dais. Many years ago, in this very
spot, the Dark King had once sat to lord over his kingdom. Layna
gave another involuntary shudder as she moved closer, and it came
into plain view.

The throne was a daunting sight. It was made
out of bones, somehow melded into the stone framework of the seat,
arranged in a morbidly artistic pattern. Two human skulls had been
placed at the end of each armrest; their teeth were filed down to
pointed fangs, and it looked as though the eye sockets had once
held something before being pried roughly out.

“Talk about intimidating your audiences,”
Gryffon commented, unsettled.

Layna nodded emphatically, her eyes wide.
They moved off from the disturbing sight, and chose a hallway off
to the left. It looked to be a main corridor that might lead them
to somewhere useful.

“What is it exactly that we're looking for?”
Layna whispered to Gryffon.

He answered at a regular volume. “Anything,
I'm thinking we should check the library, even though there's
unlikely to be anything left, and then see if we can't find our way
down into the dungeons. That seems to be where the most,” he
paused, “-interesting- things seemed to have happened.”