Thursday, August 21, 2014

Keepers of the List, Chapter 10

“Esprit! ESPRIT!

Leclerc ran along the rubble, grabbing the jagged mortar stones with his bare hands when he reached the remains of the stable house, calling out his companion’s name until his hands were raw and his voice was hoarse. Sweat pouring down his forehead, he looked at the immense pile of ruin in front of him, and sank to his knees, feeling tears well up in his closed eyes.

“Leclerc? Leclerc, is that you?”

His eyes shot open, looking around frantically for the voice he had just heard.


And then, he saw her- Esprit was standing, holding a horse’s reins in each hand, on the far side of the rubble. He jumped to his feet, climbed across the wreckage, and wrapped his arms tightly around her, feeling relief wash over him.

“Esprit, you had me so scared,” he said, releasing her. “Where were you?”

“I had taken the horses for a walk around the grounds,” she replied. “Not very far, but then the ground shook, and… that happened… and the horses got away from me. I didn’t know how safe the road was between here and town, so I didn’t want them to be lost and for us to be without a way to travel.”

Leclerc wiped off his face and his eyes, finally smiling. “Well… I’m happy you’re safe. I was so worried.”

She blushed ever-so-slightly. “I’m sorry to have worried you.” Her expression turned serious. “What was that, that made the ground shake? It sounded like a mountain had broken or something.”

Leclerc looked off into the distance. It was getting dark, but he felt like he could see smoke in the last rays of sunlight.

“I don’t know,” he answered. He turned back to look at the ruined stable house, the crashed tower, and the gaping tear exposed in the front of the manor where the tower once stood. “It’s a relief nobody was hurt, but… this is going to delay any repair work on the mansion.”

Esprit sighed, blowing a lock of her red hair out of her face. “I know. I suppose it was going to take a long time anyway. What’s another month or two?”

The two of them laughed, both feeling such relief after the scare. “Well,” said Leclerc, “Let’s find a safe place for the horses and get things ready for the night.”
They ended up getting the horses settled in in one of the bedrooms on the bottom floor. Leclerc brought in some ruined threadbare blankets he had found around the mansion, and piled them in a corner near some of the food and water they had brought in the night before.

Leclerc waited until night was well underway in the hopes of the adventurers returning, but since they hadn’t, he went ahead and started the bonfire he had talked about. He and Esprit sat near it, mostly in silence, a pot of beans simmering at the edge. Leclerc had hoped that the others would have returned, so the five of them could talk and laugh and enjoy each others’ presence. It was difficult, being out on the road away from his home- of course he enjoyed keeping company with Esprit, but even when he was working with the poor and destitute in Serasham he never felt lonely. He had also been hoping the others would have gotten rid of the goblins by now, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about shadows lurking beyond the walls.

Of course, though he wasn’t willing to admit it, the fact that they hadn’t returned worried him. He didn’t know if they were hurt, or lost, or captured, or worse- but he had to keep faith and trust that everything would turn out for the best. If nothing else, he had to be the strong one for Esprit, since she undoubtedly feared the same things.

Once their beans were finished cooking, the two of them ate under the stars, listening only to the crack and pop of the flames and the thoughts in their heads.
The next morning, Leclerc woke up at dawn, taking a moment to gaze out over the grounds, once again hoping to see the adventurers’ return. Seeing nothing but the majestic Arcala mountain range in the distance, he got up, got dressed, and went about doing as he had the day before- looking around the mansion for small jobs that needed to be done.

Though he tried to occupy himself elsewhere, he eventually found himself trying to clear away the rubble from the fallen tower. At first he was trying to find an opening large enough to get inside the stable house, but eventually he was picking up fallen bricks and laying them neatly in stacks next to the building. It was a huge job, and not one he could complete on his own in any reasonable length of time, but it was a job that needed to be done and he had nothing else to do.

He managed to clear away part of one wall of the stable house, but the wagon was completely ruined. Luckily he was able to retrieve the lockbox- after spending the majority of the morning trying to pry a massive section of roof off of it- and though it was battered, its contents were safe. He was relieved- the lockbox held the deed to the manor, the grounds, and a letter of credit from the King’s Bank in the Grey City for the majority of Esprit’s estate, as well as a considerable amount of gold coins and a pouch of coveted platinum. After making sure everything inside was undamaged and accounted for, Leclerc brought the dented lockbox into the manor, eventually stashing it under some of the rubble in the still-destroyed basement. Until they could procure a safe repository for Esprit’s wealth, simply hiding it would have to do.

When surveying the wreckage of the tower, Leclerc eventually noticed that although it had fallen from a great height, it looked like part of the spire- the uppermost section- had stayed mostly intact. Though it lay on its side, and on top of the remains of the stable house, he found that if he carefully climbed up to what was once the stable’s roof, there was a section that looked like it had an opening large enough for a person to climb into. Since, after all, that was the only room of the house he hadn’t at least glanced inside, he couldn’t help but keep his interest.

He spent until high noon tossing the idea around in his head. No, he shouldn’t, because it isn’t safe- it could collapse any moment. Yes, he should, because it clearly must be sturdy enough if it survived a fall from the highest point of the manor. No, he shouldn’t, because it’s probably empty like the rest of the mansion. Yes, he should, because it could hold a remnant of Esprit’s family history.

As the sun passed it highest point, he found himself staring at the fallen tower, knowing that he was going in whether he wanted to or not. Taking a moment to look around once more for the adventurers or anything else that needed his attention, Leclerc threw caution to the wind and climbed up onto the mountain of rubble between him and the tower.

The climb was difficult, and more than once he slipped and tore part of his pants or shirt or cut himself on a rotten timber or jagged piece of metal roofing. But, feeling a small personal victory, he soon reached the hole in the side of the fallen tower, and was relieved to find that it was big enough for him to slip inside. He once again felt like this was a bad idea, but he had come this far. He said a short prayer to Deluz before entering, and with a deep breath, he slipped between the cracked masonry.

Inside, he saw that he was in what was once the spiral staircase leading to the top. It was strange and disorienting climbing over the sideways staircase, and for a moment he laid himself down on the wall, resting his feet against one of the steps, and imagined that he was standing right-side up in a normal tower. Grinning as he shook off the thought, he continued his climb until he reached the top of the stairs, where a door stood, facing down at him from what was now the ceiling. He reached up, and found the handle immovable- the door was locked. It struck him as interesting, as so far all of the doors in the building- the ones that were still standing, anyway- had become so rusted and rotten that they came open quite easily. This one, despite being as old as all the others, was still locked, and strong enough that he couldn’t get it open. In fact, the handle even supported his weight when he grabbed it and lifted his feet off the ground. If it were standing upright, perhaps he could bash it open, but it was difficult while reaching above him.

Then, he remembered the set of keys that were given to Esprit along with the deed. Completely by chance, he had brought them with him- he had used them to open the gate to the property the day they arrived, and since then they had simply hung on his belt. Taking them in hand, he sorted through all of them, trying each one on the lock above him. It was tiring, since he had to keep his arms raised for so long, but eventually, he found the right key- an old iron one with an emblem that had been scratched off long ago. Finally, the door opened, and swung down and hit the wall beside him with a loud clang. Exhausted but unwilling to wait another moment, he hoisted himself up into the locked room.

Unsurprisingly, the tiny chamber was a mess. Shards of wooden furniture were strewn about, and there were scraps of parchment- heavily damaged from years of rain and wind blown through the tiny arrow-slit windows, it was a wonder there were even scraps left- plastered against every surface. But one thing caught Leclerc’s eye: an upturned desk, its legs broken and scattered, with its main compartment closed and locked.

Praise Deluz, he thought to himself.

Leclerc burst into the girl’s bedroom, panting from having climbed and run and dragged the remains of the desk with him all the way from the tower. She was just waking up, wrapped up in the bedroll on top of the ruined four-poster bed. It looked like she had been sleeping fitfully, and Leclerc figured it had taken her quite some time to fall asleep after the fright the previous evening.

“Esprit, I have good news,” he said, a big grin on his bearded face.

She rubbed her eyes intently, brushing her matted hair out of her face. “Is it word from the others? Were they successful?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. His demeanor became less exuberant for a moment. “Erm, no. But I found something. Something important.”

She perked up, beginning to climb out of her bedroll, then deciding against it and hopping out of bed with the bedroll still wrapped around her. She waddled over, holding it around her, as he dragged the desk top into the room.

“I was trying to clean up, keeping myself busy,” he began, taking the keys out of his pocket. “I realized the tower- the one that fell- was the only room we hadn’t searched, since it didn’t look safe. I found a way inside, and behind a locked door, I found this desk.”

Her eyes were wide open, but she didn’t speak.

“It was locked too, and none of the keys on this keyring of yours would open it. I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to take some initiative, and… well…”

He directed her eyes to where the lock once was. Now, there was a suspiciously hammer-shaped hole in the wooden face.

“Anyway, look inside.”

He pulled the drawer open, and inside was a stash of memories: papers, letters, and curios. She seemed hesitant at first, as if perhaps she didn’t believe what she was seeing, but before long her slender hand had grabbed a sheet of parchment, and with a trembling grip her eyes slowly scanned across every word. Leclerc hadn’t read much himself- he simply glanced at the contents before rushing to present his findings to their rightful owner- but he had a feeling that what they had come looking for was hidden within these papers.

After Esprit had finished one sheet, she grabbed another, and another. Leclerc stood next to her patiently, holding the battered desk drawer steady for his companion. She read a handful of letters, studied a pair of sketches, and inspected a few small knick-knacks that rolled against the side of the drawer. Some time passed, and she placed it all back inside. Leclerc smiled at her, but his smile faltered when he realized that tears were rolling down her cheeks. He set the desk compartment on the floor, and hurried to put his hands on her shoulders.

“Esprit, talk to me,” he said softly. “What’s wrong? Was this just another dead end?”

She let out a sob, and turned to lock eyes with her friend. Through the tears, Leclerc could see that he was smiling.

“No, Leclerc,” she said, wiping her eyes with a sleeve. As she did so, he saw that she held another letter tightly in her hand.

“Then…” he began.

She held up the paper. “This letter… this letter was addressed to my parents.”

Leclerc’s worried expression morphed into a grin.

She continued. “I know what we have to do now. We’ve got another quest.”

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