The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection

Owyn didn’t look happy at the second choice, but said nothing. Gorath just looked out over the town as they rode down towards a small guard post that sat beside the trail.

A town constable of advancing years and considerable girth held up his hand and said, ‘Halt!’

The three reined in and Locklear inquired, ‘What is it?’

‘We’ve had a rash of renegades around here, lately, m’lad, so state your business.’

‘We’re travelling south and stopping for provisions,’ said Locklear.

‘And who might you be, to be riding down out of the mountains?’

Locklear produced the paper given him by Captain Belford and said, ‘This should explain as much as you need to know, constable.’

The man took the document and squinted at it. Locklear realized he couldn’t read, but he made a show of studying it. Finally, convinced by the large embossment at the bottom, the constable handed back the paper and said, ‘You may pass, sir. Just be wary if you’re out after dark.’

‘Why?’ asked Locklear.

‘As I said, sir, lots of ruffians and bandits passing by lately, and not too few of those murderous Brothers of the Dark Path. Look a bit like your elf friend there, but with long black nails and red eyes which shine in the night.’

Locklear could barely hold back his amusement as he said, ‘We’ll be wary, constable.’

They rode past and Gorath said, ‘That one has never seen one of my people in his life.’

‘So I gathered,’ observed Locklear, ‘though I must pay more attention to your eyes at night. I may have missed the red glow.’

Owyn chuckled and they found themselves an inn. It was dirty, crowded and dark, which suited Locklear fine as he was low on funds. He had thought about asking Captain Belford for a loan, but decided the captain’s only response would have been, ‘wait for Earl Kasumi,’ and while Locklear didn’t mind taking a circuitous route to get to Krondor to avoid ambushes, he was anxious to put the mystery of what was occurring in the Northlands before Arutha.

There were no rooms available, a situation that surprised Locklear, but the innkeeper gave them leave to sleep in the commons. Owyn grumbled at the need, but Gorath kept his thoughts to himself.

So far no one had objected to the moredhel’s presence along the way, either because they didn’t recognize him for what he was, mistaking him for an elf, or because a moredhel with renegade humans in these mountains was not all that unusual a sight. Whatever the cause, Locklear was grateful he didn’t need to deal with curious onlookers.

They ate at a crowded table, and after the meal listened to an indifferent troubadour. There were some games of chance and Locklear itched to try his hand at some cards, either pashawa or pokir. He resisted the impulse, as he could ill afford to lose, and one lesson taught him by his father and older brothers was don’t gamble what you can’t afford to lose.

As the inn settled down and those sleeping in the commons began to claim corners and places under tables, Locklear approached the barkeep, a heavy-set man with a black beard. ‘Sir?’ he asked as Locklear moved between two other men to stand before him.

‘Tell me, friend,’ began Locklear. ‘Is there a merchant in this town who deals in gems?’

The barkeep nodded. ‘Three doors down on the right. Name’s Alescook.’

‘Good,’ said Locklear. ‘I need to purchase a gift for a lady.’

The barkeep grinned. ‘I understand, sir. Now, one word: caution.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Locklear.

‘I’m not saying Kiefer Alescook can’t be trusted, but let’s just say the source of some of his merchandise is a bit dodgy.’

‘Ah,’ said Locklear, nodding as if now he understood. ‘Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.’

Locklear returned to the table and said, ‘I’ve found our man. He’s nearby and we’ll see him first thing in the morning.’

‘Good,’ said Gorath. ‘I tire of your company.’

Locklear laughed. ‘You’re not exactly an ale and fair song yourself, Gorath.’

Owyn said, ‘Well, whatever. I’m tired and if we’re to sleep on the floor, I don’t want to get too far from the fire.’

Locklear realized that men were now bedding down for the night and replied, ‘Over there.’

They moved to the indicated spot and unrolled their bedding. After a few minutes of listening to the sounds of hushed conversation from those few men still at the tables or the door opening and closing as men left to return to their homes, Locklear fell into a deep sleep.

The merchant looked up as the three men entered the room. He was an old man, looking frail to the point of infirmity. He regarded the three with rheumy eyes. He studied Gorath for a moment, then said, ‘If you’ve come for gold, I sent it north with one of your kind two days ago.’

Gorath said, ‘I did not come for gold.’

Locklear said, ‘We came looking for information.’

The merchant fell silent. After a moment, he said, ‘Information? Find a rumour-monger. I deal in gems and other fine items.’

‘And from what we hear, you’re not too particular as to the source of those items.’

‘Are you suggesting I deal in stolen property?’ demanded the old man, his voice rising.

Locklear held up his hand. ‘I suggest nothing, but I am seeking a particular stone.’

‘What?’

‘A ruby, unusual in size and character. I seek to return it to its rightful owner, no questions asked. If you came by it, no fault will be placed at your feet, if you help us recover it. If you don’t, then I suggest you may receive a visit from a royal magistrate and some very disapproving guardsmen from the garrison at Tyr-Sog.’

The old man’s expression turned calculating. His balding pate shone in the light of a single lantern that hung overhead. With feigned indifference he said, ‘I have nothing to hide. But I may be able to help you.’

‘What do you know?’ asked Locklear.

‘Lately, my business has been brisk, but it’s an unusual sort of trade, and I’ve been in this business for fifty years, lad.

‘Recently, I’ve been handling transactions for parties I have not met, through agents and couriers. Most unusual, but profitable. Gems of high quality, many of them very rare, even remarkable, have passed through my hands.’

‘Tsurani gems?’ asked Locklear.

‘Precisely!’ said the old man. ‘Yes, similar enough to our own rubies, sapphires, emeralds and the like to be recognized as such, but with slight variations only an expert might notice. And also, other gems unlike any found on this world.’

‘Whom do you represent?’ asked Locklear.

‘No one known to me,’ said the old man. ‘At irregular intervals of late, dark elves like your companion have come here, and they drop off gems. Later a man comes from the south and brings me gold. I take a commission and wait for the dark elves to return and take the gold.’

Gorath turned to Locklear. ‘Delekhan. He’s using the gold to arm our people.’

Locklear held his hand up, requesting silence. ‘We’ll talk later.’ To the old man he said, ‘Who buys the gems?’