The Crystal Key

                                                        CHAPTER 1
                                                           
         A steady line of smoke drifted north from the chimney of the small tavern that lay ahead of him. He hadn’t seen any other travelers all day long and the sight of the little building was a nice reminder of civilization. A single horse was tied to the hitching post underneath the broken sign, declaring the place to be The Riversbend Tavern. With tiny letters underneath telling the weary traveler, “Last Chance til’ freepass”, which was true…to a point. You see even once you get to freepass there still wasn’t anything until you reached the city of Arndale. Which itself was another two day journey across the open fields of Arndale.

         The tavern would do for now, besides he didn’t need to go toward freepass just yet. The large man threw his dusty boot over the back of his horse and came down with a firm thud as his massive weight landed on the dirt path. A rattle of his armor and sword made all that heard know of his abilities.

         Sweat and dust mingled with the smell of dirty horse. The scent of fresh cooking meat from the kitchen helped cover the unpleasant smells. A clatter from the kitchen area brought the warrior’s attention toward the sounds. Only the clumsy cook, he thought. A light poured onto the grass behind the tavern as the rear door was flung open and someone scrambled out with a flaming pan of something. Dangerous cook… he rethought his original conclusion.

         Throwing his horse’s reins around the hitching post the big man headed for the front door, away from the fire wielding cook. He hoped that any food he may order would come out unscathed, as that patrons had not. The door had a small window in it letting a dim stream of light trickle onto the morning dew covering the grass on either side of the path. It almost appeared to illuminate the path to the building. Making a mental note of this he peered in the little window.
                                                 

         The room he could see wasn’t very large. Tables covered most of the dining floor space. An area in front of the large fireplace offered a place for an audience if needed. A man stood behind a bar that lined the wall opposite the fireplace. It looked safe enough.

         Heavy wooden doors creaked open on their metal hinges as Stoney Quickhand entered the tavern. He was an imposing sight to most who saw him. All of the men in his family had been …large, to say it in nice terms. These men had bordered on being giants. His head barely cleared the door as he ducked to enter the common room. Once his head was righted the giant warrior looked around the room to get a better idea of his surroundings (his military training was showing itself).

         All of the patrons took a look at the new arrival. Some were openly awed by the size of the man. Most went back to their conversations and ale. Eventually all eyes left Stoney as he went to take a seat near the bar.

         His helm went on the table first. Then his shield took the seat directly next to him.Leaned against the back of the chair the shield displayed its origins. The name Arndale was etched across the top, but this gave any reading the name the nature of the man caring such a piece of armor.

         After getting comfortable and having an excellent view of the room, Stoneysurveyed his surroundings carefully.

         Two darkly cloaked fellows sat apart from everyone else. They slumped inward to keep their conversation private, probably some sort of thieves or mercenaries. The bulge in the taller thief’s cloak showed his was armed, but wouldn’t draw unless provoked. The other would run at the first sign of trouble. These two were no threat, but the warrior would keep a mental tab on them.

         Another two patrons sat next to the fireplace listening to the bard telling his tale to those who would listen. Both of these patrons looked to be from the fields. Plowing and planting all day brought them here to have a quick nip before heading off to sleep for another hard day pickin’ cabbage (which happened to be the main food staple in the great prairies of Iona). These two were engrossed in the story being told by the bard.

         Across from Stoney around the giant center support to the rooms ceiling sat four men talking of old adventures they had in their younger days. Most of these tales were just that…tales. These men were from the local quarry, and had developed quite a reputation for tall tales. They also had the size to keep people from calling them on their stories. Most just let them tell their whoppers and nod, only to roll eyes the moment they
had an escape. They had gotten a little loud now that Stoney had settled down into his own seat.

         Actually the whole room had gone back to the way it was just before the giant warrior walked in. Stoney liked that. It made him feel comfortable, relaxed….

         The sound of metal on metal lit the warrior’s senses. The brief tap of a handbrushing over armor. The small fragile hand was enclosed by his own, before the girl’s eyes could water from the pain. He watched as her eyes welled up and felt her little hand quiver in his. A ring gleamed on one of the fingers turning blue in his strong grasp.

         Releasing her, he apologized “Dear I am sorry, you caught me from behind.” Hetruly felt sorry as he watched the young woman shake her hand trying to get the feelings back into it.

“Would you like some ale?” the young waitress winced though her teeth.

         Stoney saw through the trick now, she was playing the pain up more than it really was. He would make a mental note of this also.

“Yes. I would also like some of your cabbage soup.”
         
“Would you like bread with that?”

Stoney nodded yes, and the girl scampered off to get his meal.

         Back to his survey of the room. The last group was three dwarfs who sat staring at one another and drinking their ale. None had spoken since Stoney had entered, yet he could almost feel them watching him. Being from Arndale Stoney had come in contact with dwarfs from time to time. They inhabited the Crystal Mountains that bordered Arndale on the east. The mountains were guarded by the dwarfs, not to mention next to impossible to climb. The walls of the mountain were covered with sheets of ice and avalanches took place daily on the slopes. So seeing the dwarfs brought the warrior a feeling of home.

         Lastly came the storyteller. The person who had only stopped talking long enough to look at Stoney, then he was back to telling his tale. The man waved his hands and made many facial expressions as he told the tale. His grey robes fluttered about him, and pouches bounced about on his rope belt. A sack lay next to the stool he sat on. A couple of book spilled out of the sack along with some quills, some broken, some still usable.
This man appeared to be a well traveled bard. His eyes flared with passion as he told the story (he had no doubt told many times before). This man would be around for a donation after telling his story, other than that the man would not be an issue.
                                       
         Pulling the dirty map out ok the large pouch he kept tied under his arm, Stoneystudied where he was in contrast to where he wanted to be.

         Stoney caught the hand as the mug came into view. The girl was wincing underhis crushing grip once again. Releasing her slowly he grabbed her towel and wiped the ale he had spilled down her arm when grabbing her. Her eyes did not well with tears this time.

         “Awfully jumpy mister!” the young waitress snapped at the giant warrior, as she roughly set his mug and plate down on the table spilling a little of the contents of each. Snatching her towel back from Stoney she set to cleaning another table across the room, no doubt upset with the rough treatment she was receiving from the giant man.

         Shrugging off what he could not change, Stoney put the map away and set to hisdinner. At least it was what they called dinner out here in the plains. Vegetables grew where nothing else would. They took over the landscape and the diets of all who lived in the Great Prairies. So cabbage soup became quite popular since it was cheap and easy, while allowing the cook to add just about anything to the soup to make it personalized.
This version had carrots and some kind off root adding to the flavor.
         
         As he ate the hot soup, the bard finished his tale to a small round of applause. Soon the storyteller would be around to collect any tidings the patrons could spare. Stoney tugged at a flap in his armor exposing his meager change purse. Flipping the pouch open on the table one gold piece starred up at him between a half dozen or so silver pieces. He could spare one for the bard, but he would hold onto the gold piece until he had exhausted all others means of survival.

         The young warrior was on his knight’s trial. A year long wandering that would help define the knight’s intentions to himself. It would also prove if the warrior had the fortitude to stand as one of the elite warriors in all of Iona. The Knights of Arndale were known across the continent and would not tolerate any weaklings in their ranks. Some who left on their trials never returned home, but this was a rarity.

         “Care for a refill?” came the voice of the young waitress again. Stoney flinched, but did not accost the girl again. This time she got a scolding look from the giant man.

         The girl scrunched her face in annoyance. “I don’t know your story mister, but you can relax in here. We don’t have trouble very often.”

         “I am sorry.” Stoney apologized to the girl again. “I have been traveling alone for a few months now. I guess crowds make me more aware of my surroundings.”

         The girl’s eyes left Stoney and looked at the visitor the warrior had at his table. The bard stood patiently with his arms folded in his sleeves, waiting for the big man to turn his attention to him.

         Stoney picked one of the silver pieces out of his pouch, and extended his hand tothe robed figure.

         The man reached for the donation while never taking his eyes off of Stoney. Stopping just short of picking up the silver piece, the bard cocked his head to the side slightly and narrowed his eyes. Withdrawing his hand he said to Stoney, “You should keep that. You will need it more than I.” Then his red robes fluttered away toward the table of dwarfs

         A tingling lifted from the big warrior’s limbs as he withdrew his own arm. He felt as if a fog had entered his mind and left just as swiftly. Did the bard cast some sort of spell on him? Was the man actually a bard? And why didn’t he except his offering?

         The young waitress was passing by, and Stoney reached out and snagged herapron. Pulling the girl close to him, he asked “Who is the bard? What do you know of him?”

         Finding the grey robed figure with her own eyes, she answered “He came in herethis morning talking of great adventures so the owner let him stick around hoping he would be good for business.”

         “Thanks.” Stoney said to the girl as she spun away from him again. The uneasyfeeling had not left his stomach from the haze cast over him. Not wanting to hang around to find out about the (Great Adventures), the big warrior stood to leave. His sword clanked against the steel armor on his left leg again bringing the attention of the room to him. Weapons gave these people the creeps thought Stoney, so my exit will be welcomed. Finishing his ale with one last swallow he made for the door.

         He left the tavern to the same stares as when he had arrived. At least his belly was full and the days ride would be more comfortable.

         Sunlight blazed over him as he pulled the door open and stepped into what seemed to be a different world than he had left. The day felt as if it had started over.

         When Stoney had gone into the tavern the day felt like it was hanging in a fog.Now the sun blazed strong in the sky and the morning dew had vanished to the smell of blooming flowers.

         His heart felt lighter as if all his troubles and worries had lifted away. Somethingwasn’t right though. His mind knew things were out of place.

         The door finally closed behind him. Realizing that he had been standing in one spot Stoney made for his horse.

         “Castle, we need to go! I got a bad feeling!” Stoney pulled the reins off the postand flung himself into the saddle with one mighty heft. Swinging to face forward he stopped short of leaving. The stranger from inside was offering his horse an apple.

         Stoney pulled the horses away with the reins causing castle to snort loudly in protest. “Why do you offer me charity, when you turned mine down?”

         The hooded figure smiled and replied, “You are not very trusting for a knight.And the charity is not for you…” the man paused, smiling even broader, “It is for your horse.”

         Stoney wasn’t very trusting but he pressed on, “How do you know I am aknight?” A twinge of worry ran through his veins, as now thought he could be facing some dark wizard that wanted to rid the lands of knights. He shook off his conspiracy theory and came back to reality. Still he kept the distrust between knights and wizards close to the front of his mind.

         The robed man pulled his hood back to reveal his full face for the first time toStoney. Pointing at his sword the bard answered, ‘Your weapon gives you away, unless you have stolen it from and honest and noble man.”

         Being able to see his face let Stoney read more about the man. He was thin chiseled and tanned. His eyes were narrow like an elves’, yet his human ears gave him away as otherwise.

         His hands looked strong, as if he did lots of his own laboring. Tilling a garden or patching a roof, things that a poor bard might do to keep up his own home. He stood straight and tall as he addressed the giant warrior. This showed he was proud and would stand his ground, this was something the young knight thought highly of.

         The bard wore a plain grey robe, tied together with what appeared to be a well used piece of rope. A handful of pouches hung from the makeshift belt along side a dagger with an intricately carved handle. He walked with, but did not lean against a staff adorned at the top with feathers.

         Stoney leaned back in his saddle as he studied the stranger. Should he trustsomeone that used magic, all of his teachers had warned against such things. His father had always spoke out against the dark art of magic.

“What is your name?” the knight asked.

         “Gurr Tyrese. And yours?” replied the bard, or mage as Stoney was beginning to suspect.

         “Stoney Quickhand. Servant to the king of Arndale.” This identified him as a knight of Arndale. Anyone from the region would know this put him in a class ofwarriors that was not easily matched. The size of Stoney made him even more intimidating. Looking the man up and down he asked, “Are you a mage?”

         Gurr looked Stoney up and down before he answered. “Yes I am a mage. Could you not tell by my robes?” Motioning toward the dull grey robe he wore loosely over a grey tunic and grey leggings made from softened deer hides. “I am a mage of Raini, devoted to the purity of magic. We do not wish for grand things. Just for peace within the magical world.”


         Stoney had more of an answer than he wanted. “Did you cast a spell on me inside there.” He nodded to the tavern.

         Gurr thought of his words carefully. “On you? No. Toward you? Yes.” Heanswered cryptically. In truth the read spell was cast in his general direction, but not directly onto him. Bending the truth for the warrior’s sake seemed the best thing to do at this time. “Do you not trust magic?’ the newly revealed mage asked in return.

“I don’t know enough about magic to trust it.”

“Or do you not trust me?”, Gurr added.

“I don’t know enough about you to trust you.”

         “Well…” Gurr trailed off as he pulled his hood back over his face and looked west as he climbed into the saddle of the other horse that had been tied to the hitching post. “You will come to trust both soon. Very soon.”