081 – Finding Treasure

Steven returned to himself, and had to catch himself from collapsing. The last three had been in his sleep, and had not drained him. This one used much more energy, as he was awake.

He now knew what killed all these people, and possibly the vegetation: a spell that extinguished all energy. It caught The Queen next to her husband. And these two in passion. But what happened to the brothers? Who were they, and why did they not return for this sword? Especially if it was as important as the elves implied that it was.

Steven took the sword in hand and went to the catacomb doors. He almost considered leaving his torch behind now, as he had lit virtually every torch he could find; but he liked the feel of it. He tried the doors, but found them to still be solid. He tucked the sword into his belt, and went back to the entrance. He closed the lower set of doors, and then climbed the steps. The mid-afternoon light was nearly blinding after the torchlight. He closed the second doors, and left his torch in a sconce to burn out on its own.

Steven then returned to the fortress and climbed to the floor above the Royal Apartments. He departed from his methodical search and went directly to the rooms over the Royal apartments; to no surprise, he found the Royal Offices, as completely stripped as every other room in the place.

Several ideas lingered in his mind, perhaps as residue from the info-dump that was happening while he was here. But he could all but see the layout of the place when it had been in use. By this same means he also knew that during the funeral, the fortress gates had been opened, and the invaders allowed in without a fight. Steven did not think about how he knew things, as it spooked him a bit.

On the other hand things began to make sense, and his early theories were born out. The Fortress had been sacked, but that did not matter. He ‘knew’ right where he was going. And what he was looking for.

Steven entered The King’s office. This sat above the Royal Apartment below, and this room of it occupied the middle section of the outer wall that faced the church. Taking a moment to look beyond, Steven could see part of the city and forest beyond. Turning, there was an unobtrusive slot on one of the side walls, between two bricks. He pulled the sword from his belt. The blade was a dull gray, the hilt a dusty bronze, and the handle most likely knurled ivory wrapped with gold and steel inlay wire. He put the tip into the slot and carefully pushed it in. It bumped into something at half its length, and continued going in pushing that something. As the sword sunk to its crossbar, a panel a few bricks away on the wall opened. Several bricks suspended on an iron door concealed a safe. The door was somehow set up to open on a counterweight. The looters had missed this.

The box was at local average eye level. It was of the usual size: big enough to hold its contents, and little more. There was a double-edged knife in its sheath, a hand span diameter by one cubit long scroll, a sheaf of parchment about one cubit by a half, and a small wooden box. Other than these things, the safe was empty.

The box contained a set of seals. Steven pulled each seal out, examined it, and put it back. Uninterested, he put the box aside.

He then pulled out the scroll. It was brittle enough that he did not try to unroll it. It was put aside.

He then pulled out the sheaf of parchment. It was bound at one end, and looked like a genealogy, but was in a script Steven could not read. There were several ink stamped seals on the top sheet, and one in old wax.

Thumbing through the parchment pages, the script was easily readable and he found he could trace the general patterns from page to page, but not the specific lines. Somehow Steven knew that each king in the hall below, and the extended family with right to succession was in here. Something about it struck his fancy, and Steven decided to take it with. He carefully placed the parchment in his backpack.

He put the scroll, knife and box back inside then withdrew the sword from the wall, and tucked it in his belt. The safe closed as the counter weight was released. Somehow it seemed right to take the sword and the genealogy together.

Steven then proceeded out of the structure feeling that his job here was done. Except he felt a bit let down that he had not fought any viscous monsters, or had to evade any traps. On the other hand, Indiana Jones, he was not. As Steven walked the fortress and city, a sense of loneliness filled him.

He went back to his camp in the merchant’s shop. He repacked his gear, and rolled the genealogy scroll into his bedroll to protect it. He examined the area. The fire was out. His trash disposed of. The sword and genealogy retrieved. He reached for the necklace, and stopped.

For some reason, Steven felt he should go see the chapel in the palace church.

In his searching this morning he had found it, but had not taken much time there, being more interested in other things. Being late afternoon now, he took his things with, in case he decided to camp elsewhere. The chapel was really the only room with any of its furnishings still here. Evidently, the conquerors here felt it was sacrilegious to strip a chapel. While the metal leaf had been removed, the carved wood and stone were all still here. The benches were so close together as to make any Fire Marshal condemn the place. They had a divider down the middle. The benches filled the room to the aisles on the edges. An altar sat at the front, with several other typical religious fixtures. Several large mirrors reflected light around the room to illuminate it. Steven suddenly felt self-conscious and knelt, feeling he should be more reverent toward whatever god this place was dedicated to and respected by.

He then got up and inspected the place. He found several Christian style confessionals. But there were no crosses in evidence by presence or absence. He found a closet that had held either very large scrolls, or prayer rugs. And he found the stairs down to the priest’s offices and rooms.

Down stairs more mirrors reflected light around, but it was beginning to soften. Along the way, he found another privy. The running water had long ago been blocked.

He found the offices, and found one of these barred and the door surprisingly solid. It was barred from the outside, with a wax seal, still unbroken.

Steven felt that whatever was inside was long since forgotten or replaced and lifted the bar. The wax seal broke, and the bar slid aside easily. Steven found the door mechanism frozen with age, and decided to do some percussive maintenance to open it. He smashed the plate with the pommel of his knife, and ripped the mechanism from the door. The door hinges creaked properly, as Steven pushed the old door open. The room was lined with shelves. Many scrolls and books were still here. Also a few wood and metal boxes. Steven opened the largest box, sitting on a table in the middle of the room. It had no lock, just a hinged lid. He found it to contain the same things as the safe did, less the knife. The rest of the scrolls and books were almost too brittle to touch. There was also a large roll of parchment that seemed to contain the same information as the bound set in his bedroll, but in greater detail. Steven found a thin wooden tube a bit more than a hand span in diameter, and slid the roll into it, hoping it would last until the information could be used by whomever wanted it.

Steven spotted one more roll on a shelf, by itself. Within a hinged metal case was a scroll with gilt edges, the case having white metal ends. Being the only one preserved such Steven put it in his bag.

Steven re-closed the door, and the bar, leaving the mechanism guts on the table in the room. He then went down into the catacombs. He did not go far, as he would need a torch. He went back and was on his way out when the thought of money entered his mind.

He was not a grave robber, or a treasure hunter. But he did wonder how much money the rest of this journey would cost, and how they might get more. He found himself going back to the closed doors of the tomb. These dead did not need their jewels, or gold. Taking supplies from the dead was battlefield expediency. And this whole world was becoming a battlefield. That settled, Steven reopened the tomb, and went in.

The torches perked up as he let fresh air in. He decided to take only from the group here at the doors, and not from the properly buried. He still ended up with a bag containing several rings, bracelets, earrings, necklaces, two tiaras and other odds and ends. He looked at one body, and realized that it was dressed in a gold chain mail dress. In The Prince’s vision, the concubine/nurse had been dressed thus. Steven found the clasps, and removed the mail from the remains. She had apparently been wearing nothing else. There was a clasp at the back of the neck, one on each wrist, and one at the back of the waist. The thing was backless, with sleeves that came up past the elbow, and diminished to a small strand attaching to the front panel. He put this all carefully into his bag. Steven then left closing and barring the doors behind him. The torches would burn out on their own, removing most of the oxygen from the tomb.

As Steven had searched the city and castle, a sense of loneliness had slowly overwhelmed him. This was once a trade center. A place where dreams were made. Where children grew up, married, and had children of their own. Now it was a graveyard. The whole city lying in state, until the ages, or someone, erased it, or tried to revitalize it.

He reached for the necklace again, and was about to push the crystal. Somehow, teleporting from the fortress did not feel right, so he picked his way to the gate and outside to the city. He looked at the sun sinking across the horizon, and finally pushed the gem. But nothing happened. Steven was about to push a second time, when the gem started to glow.

The pattern on the metal disk was traced by a glowing line, and then repeated two more times. Steven was looking down at the necklace, when he noticed the dust at his feet begin to swirl around. The spin went very fast, a wave of nausea swept over him, and the world changed around him.

He stabilized himself, closing his eyes while the world stopped spinning. Steven finally opened his eyes, finding himself back in the café in Shalaia. The thinner air was a noticeable shock, and the sunset was red in the clouds above. Caspian stood to his right, watching, and waiting.