Lair of Bones

1 THE MOUTH OF THE UNDERWORLD Rofehavan has always been bounded by the sea to the north and to the east, by the Hest Mountains to the west, and by the Alcair Mountains to the south. In an effort to assure that no war was ever waged over a desirable piece of land, Erden Geboren reached a concord with kings of Old Indhopal and the elders of Inkarra. He set the southeast border of his realm, where the three great realms met, in the most undesirable place on earth: at the opening to a vast and ancient reaver warren called the Mouth of the World. fromA History of Rofehavan byHearthmaster Redelph * * * "Milord, there you are," someone called. "I was growing worried. We've been waiting for hours." Averan woke. She recognized the voice of The Wizard Binnesman. She found herself in a wagon bed filled with sweet-smelling hay, new from the summer fields. For a pillow she used Gaborn's rucksack filled with chain mail and leather padding. All of Averan's muscles felt heavy and overworn, and her eyes were gritty. She lay with her eyes closed. Yet almost by instinct she reached out for her staff, her precious staff of black poisonwood. She touched it, felt the power in it surge beneath her hand. Gaborn answered, "I hurried the best I could. But the horse was on its last legs, so I turned it loose and left the driver to care for it." "So, the Earth King pulls a wagon to save a horse?" Binnesman scolded gently, as if worried that Gaborn might be pushing himself too hard. "Even those with great endowments have their limitsboth horse and man." Binnesman laughed. "You look like an old farmer, hauling a load of rutabagas to market." "It was only thirty more miles," Gaborn said. "And my cargo is far more valuable than rutabagas." Averan found herself startled to greater wakefulness. She had been sleeping so soundly that she hadn't been aware that she slept in a wagon, much less that the Earth King himself pulled that wagon by hand. Binnesman offered, "Here, let's hitch up my mount." The wagon came to a complete halt as the wizard got off his horse and unsaddled it. Averan sneaked a peek upward. Overhead, stars arced through the heavens as if intent upon washing the earth in light. The sun would not crest the horizon for perhaps an hour, yet light spilled like molten gold over the snowy peaks of the Alcair Mountains. To Averan it seemed that the light was sourceless, as if it suffused from another, finer world. The heavenly display fooled even the animals. Morning birdsong swelled over the land: the throaty coo of the wood dove, the song of the lark, the jealous squawk of a magpie. Close by, knobby hills crowded the road and the dry wheat growing along their sides reflected the starlight. Leafless oaks on the slopes stood black and stark, like thorny crowns. A burrow owl screeched in the distance. Faintly, Averan could smell water from a small stream, though she could not hear it burble. She watched the steady rain of stars. The bits of light came arcing down in different directions, creating fiery paths against the sky. "So, Averan is well?" Binnesman asked softly. "It was hard for her," Gaborn answered. "She stood before the Way-maker all day, holding her staff overhead, peering into the monster's mind. Sweat poured from her as if she were toiling at a forge. I was afraid for her." "And has she learned the way to, to this...Lair of Bones?" "Aye," Gaborn said. "But I fear that the lair is far in the Underworld, and AveranFarland, David is the author of 'Lair of Bones', published 2003 under ISBN 9780765301765 and ISBN 0765301768.