The Tombs of Abre (Swords of Raemllyn Book 8)

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Fine drink to tempt, then please the palate. I never thought to see wine again after you lost our horses. If his money pouch lacked weight to purchase a jug to quench the fires in his throat, he had other talents that would provide. Davin Anane was not known as a master thief without reason.

You wound me deeply, friend Davin.

Swords of Raemllyn #8

Where lies my fault? The walking mountain in man form clamped a meaty paw to the Jyotian's shoulder. The women of Upper Raemllyn pale beside the beauty found here in Pahl. Those were angry townsfolk of Elkid seeking your hide for tanning in return for the way you cheated them at the gaming tables! Davin cast an irritated glance at his hulking companion. Besides the wine, the Jyotian caught sight of a table spilling over with smoked meats, sausages, loaves of bread and wedges of cheese.

More important, the merchant who peddled his wares stared fully engrossed in the weaving line of dancers. What was wrong with Goran? Usually the sight of such tempting morsels set his stomach to growling. It would be easy to move while the dancers provided a diversion.

Details of little concern," Goran replied with a shrug of massive shoulders. That's all that matters. In all the time they had traveled together, Davin had yet fully to understand his friend. The only things predictable about Goran One-Eye were his unpredictability and his unerring penchant for finding trouble where none existed but an instant before. No man born of woman was the barrel-chested giant. Goran was a Challing, a shape-changing entity nine parts mystic and one physical. Yanked from another plane of existence by a sorcerer who bound Goran to human flesh and soon found his throat slit by Goran's hand for the effort, the Challing journeyed across Raemllyn seeking the means to return to his home world of Gohwohn.

Although why the Challing sought this homecoming lay beyond Davin's reckoning. To be certain, Goran described Gohwohn as a realm of perfection—a world of eternal peace and serenity, except for the occasional keedehn , a dragonlike creature that relished the taste of Challing flesh. For the Jyotian it sounded like the most boring place in all the universe.

Gohwohn lacked emotion, the wide variety of sense-stimulating experiences found in human realms—the very things that most appealed to Goran while trapped in solid flesh. And by all the gods, the Challing did his able best to sample every human vice, depravity and corruption available to him. There are wenches aplenty throughout Raemllyn. I speak of other things in this fine world—bigger things to occupy our attention. The one-eyed, flaming-haired giant abruptly stepped forward, turned his imposing bulk and blocked two men who strode toward the wine-laden table that so mesmerized the Jyotian.

With a quick sweep of hand and arm Goran artfully lifted a wineskin and passed it to Davin. The Jyotian thief did not question but sidled into the crowd as he tugged cork from mouth, lifted the skin and let a stream of deep red liquid gush forth over his lips. While Pahl's grapes could not compare with the vineyards of Jyotis, Davin's throat offered no protest to the sweetness that rolled down it. Nor did his flagging body complain when renewed energy spread through his limbs in a warm glow. Davin swallowed the remainder of his words as his eyes lifted and his gaze alighted on the object Goran had spied earlier.

Davin moved forward, oblivious of dancers and merchants hawking foodstuffs that had captured his full attention only seconds ago. At least fifty diamonds the size of a child's fist, I say. And the rubies—twenty rubies as big as kelii bird eggs, if there is one!

Perhaps it's a gift to the citizens of Pahl from Bedrich the Fair during his fight with Zarek Yannis. It was rumored he sojourned in Lower Raemllyn seeking sanctuary for a short while. Could he have left that as a symbol of his appreciation? That it offers riches beyond our dreams does.

For another, the gem-encrusted disk held aloft above the city's square by thick ropes would have been a marvel of beauty to behold. Not so for the Jyotian. When he had been falsely accused of murder and driven from his homeland, Davin discovered a quick wit and even quicker hands provided the means for the necessities of life as well as more than a few of its luxuries. The gold alone contained in the disk was enough to see to the needs of a man into his sunset years. The diamonds and rubies would assure he spent those years in a palace fit for a king—or a newly named Lord of Jyotis.

To steal the disk—Davin could not deny the race of his heart or the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his body—would be the stuff from which bards wove their songs over the generations. To be sure, it would be no easy task. It just requires thought and careful planning. Without thinking, the Jyotian shoved aside a cleric who rudely stepped into his path. The robed priest pivoted and a growl rumbled from his throat. Remembering himself, Davin bowed and added a hasty apology. It never paid to draw attention before a theft, especially one of such magnitude. The priest tugged his cowl lower, then straightened and looked directly at Goran One-Eye.

You must excuse his oafishness. What temple do you serve, if I may ask? We are strangers in your fair city. The man's arm lifted and he reached out to touch the gold chain around Goran's thick neck. Dangling at the end of the chain rode half a golden leaf. Goran eased the amulet away from the priest's fingers and tucked it inside his tunic.

Davin caught a green flash of witchfire in his companion's good eye and caught his breath.

The divided leaf of gold somehow held the key to the Challing's return to Gohwohn. Just what that key was had brought them all the way from Upper Raemllyn's northern reaches to Pahl in Lower Raemllyn. A show of anger from the Challing would ill serve them now. The Jyotian breathed a silent sigh of relief when Goran contained his temper and answered, "A fine lady to serve, Ediena.

I shall worship at your temple ere the day is out. Ediena has always smiled upon me, and I have always favored her with ample donations of gold. Davin cocked an eyebrow when the priest bowed again, then turned and hastened away to disappear in the crowd of revelers. Did light and shadow play tricks on his eyes or did the cleric wear a sly smile on his face when he left? The winter sun set gold and jewels afire.

There had to be a way to get to the disk. Daring could also cause our heads to be separated from our shoulders by an executioner's blade, if that daring isn't tempered by caution. Look at these debauched people. Why, I spoke to a priest of Ediena. They worship only pleasure in this city! Goran's mock disapproval broke Davin's concentration for a moment. Never mind," he said while he crossed the square to a wall atop which the ropes supporting the golden disk were tied. The Jyotian freebooter drank deeply from the skin, then leaned heavily against the wall as though drunk as most of Pahl's population.

His gaze returned to the massive suspended disk. Only two ropes held it. Goran's reply was a guffaw. Never have I seen such gluttony and excess, save when I happened to lose my eye. But I have told you the story of how my eye came to be lost in a tun of summer wine produced by the stamping feet of a dozen Litonyan maidens. Mayhap cutting a few purses. Along one side of the broad street Goran indicated, artists displayed canvases. Like religious icons, at least half the proffered works of art were of the gold and jeweled disk.

We'll need coins if we intend to be patrons of the arts today. Davin Anane cast an anxious glance over a shoulder. He saw nothing except garbage strewn along the alley. He shook his head, silently admonishing himself for what he could only describe as a case of the jitters. Since joining the fight to overthrow the usurper Zarek Yannis and return Prince Felrad to the throne, there had been little opportunity to ply his chosen profession.

He felt as nervous as the first time he had purloined fire opals from a gem merchant's heavily guarded shop. At least a half-dozen times during the afternoon he had felt the sensation of eyes following him. Yet, whenever he had felt the hairs prickling on the back of his neck, a cautious survey of the streets had revealed only Pahl's ceaseless revelers. The Jyotian shook his head again and looked at Goran One-Eye who licked the last traces of a honey cake from his fingers. Goran smacked his lips with obvious relish and grinned. Davin shifted the weight of a long roll of canvas he carried from one arm to the other.

An unwitting Pahlese artisan had prepared the "masterpiece" in the space of half an afternoon, his able hands steadied by a plump purse bulging with brass and silver coins. The generous payment, as well as a few golden bists bouncing gently in Davin's pouch, were supplied by the citizens of Pahl, or at least supplied by their slit purses.

The cart is prepared. Davin wrinkled his nose but offered no comment on his friend's chosen method of smuggling the golden disk from Pahl. Less than six months ago they had used the same method to slip a king's ransom in gold beneath the nose of Zarek Yannis' army. He had no doubt it would fool a few provincial guards.

If there were a kink in the cat's tail, it lay in his part in the theft. Should something go awry, at least a thousand pairs of eyes would be able to identify him.

See a Problem?

There would be no denying what he did should he be caught. Davin hastily tied a rope to each end of the rolled canvas, then slipped it over head and shoulder to carry it as an archer might wear a quiver of arrows. Next he drew his dagger and tested its edges with the flat of his thumb.

The tinker found earlier near the town square had honed both edges to razor's sharpness with his grinding wheel. Davin shoved the knife securely into its scabbard, let his gaze trace to the top of the wall, fully the height of five men standing on each other's shoulders, and finally looked at the Challing and gave a determined nod. Davin turned to his own task, the wall itself. He found a fingerhold half an arm's length above his head. The width of a hand higher some mortar had worked loose between the blocks of rock in the wall.

That was enough for his left hand. He pulled upward until his boots found purchase in a slight crack between the massive blocks. Thus he worked upward by hand and toehold until an arm stretched over the wall's edge let him scramble to the top. Flat on his belly, Davin inched along the wall until he reached the two steel rods that jutted out from the stone above the town square below.

From the ends of each rod, both at least the length of two strides, was tied a rope.

Table of Contents

At the end of each rope dangled the massive disk of gold embedded with diamonds and rubies. Below the disk on the ground stood Goran One-Eye waiting to catch the prize when it fell. Within the square at least a thousand of Pahl's citizens crowded close to a raised wooden platform where the local leaders took turns in praising the city-state, the festival, the revelers, and exhorting the blessings of Raemllyn's pantheon of gods.

Wiggling the rope over head and shoulder, Davin unknotted it from the ends of the rolled canvas and sliced it in twain with his dirk. He then unrolled the canvas half a turn to reveal two holes cut in opposite sides of one end. Through these he threaded the pieces of rope and tied them in two loops. Once more he risked a glance over the edge of the wall. Goran looked up and signaled he was ready. Davin returned the nod before drawing a steadying breath and pulling back. He aligned the canvas roll's width with the two steel rods, sucked down another breath and shoved the roll forward with both hands.

The canvas unrolled over the rods, reaching their ends and unfurling downward to display a painting of a golden disk sprinkled with diamonds and rubies hung by two ropes against the background of a stone wall. Belly down and with one leg wrapped around each of the steel rods, Davin left the wall and scooted out along the supports. He easily hooked the rope loops over the ends of the rods so that both the canvas and disk hung from them. With a whispered prayer to Jajhana that the painting would disguise the truth long enough for him to sever the ropes holding the disk and make good an escape, Davin once more tugged dagger from sheath.

Precariously balanced atop the rods, he pressed the knife's honed edge to rope and started sawing. The first of the ropes parted with a twang that seemed to echo around the square. Heart lodged somewhere in the middle of his throat, the Jyotian thief glanced up. A nervous sigh of relief escaped his lips. Those gathered below never so much as turned a head, their attention held by a city official who promised increased profits for all in Pahl from taxes on merchant ships with the coming of spring.

The second rope proved as difficult as trying to slice through a hawser. Thin strands of metal were interwoven with hemp, an obvious ploy to hinder those who might attempt exactly what Davin attempted. The metallic threads left the Jyotian undaunted. Grasping one rod with his left arm for greater support, he increased the pressure behind the blade.

Ever so slowly the rope frayed wide. The final portion of the rope, no thicker than a woman's little finger, parted with another violent twang. The disk, rather than dropping straight down, swung inward, grated against the stone wall and bounced outward. The final twang and the grinding of gold against stone was loud enough to turn half the heads below. Whether it was the light of a setting sun or the quality of the workmanship of the Pahlese artist who painted the canvas, or a combination of both, he did not know, but none in the square looked toward the disk.

The simple rush held. As he shinnied back along the rods to the wall, Davin saw Goran struggling with the immense platter.

The Tombs of Abr'e by Robert E. Vardeman

Cords of muscle stood out on the Challing's neck and arms as he caught the falling disk and held it firmly. He cleverly tossed a large cape about his body and clasped it tightly about his chest. Bent as he was by the sheer weight of purloined treasure, he gave the look of an improbably large, flat-spined hunchback who shuffled across the square toward the city's interior. With solid wall beneath him again, Davin scrambled forward on all fours like an overgrown spider missing two pairs of legs.

A chorused gasp followed by a cry of dismay brought a chill to the Jyotian's spine. He lifted his head and peered below, expecting the worst. And evening breeze stirred, and with it the canvas that flapped from the rods like a flag aflutter in a gale. Those gathered for the speeches thrust accusing fingers at the breeze-stirred painting. Politicians brimming with promise of prosperity a breath ago shouted for the city guards and demanded the heads of those who violated the Great Seal of the City-State of Pahl. The guardsmen responded, running here and there across the square, doing more than a little pointing and shouting of their own.

A hasty glance to Davin's left revealed Goran was far from safety. The Challing's escape was hampered by the seal's ponderous weight. He needed a minute or two more to reach the relative security of a nearby alley. Without a distraction to divert the now alert eyes of the guards, Goran would never make it. Telling himself that he had prepared for such a situation, Davin sprang to his feet and began to sing at the top of his lungs the most ribald ballad he could recall from visits to thousands of taverns across Raemllyn.

He staggered unsteadily from side to side and slurred his words to provide his best impression of a drunk who had been swilling Pahlese wine throughout the day. If the bawdy song and his sudden appearance was not enough to draw all the eyes below, the bright scarlet blouse the Jyotian wore was, that gaudy blouse slipped from a merchant's table earlier while Goran held the man's attention discussing the purchase of three dozen hand-tailored eye patches. In the rays of the setting sun, the red fabric appeared to blaze with fire. As Goran disappeared into an alley, the guardsmen below Davin began to display signs of organization.

Three pairs of men rushed toward the wall with long ladders. Whether the ladders' span was enough to reach the top of the. Nor did he have the inclination to wait around and find out. He swirled, took one quick stride and leaped into the air. Or it'll be your heads that roll! Davin heard the guards call while he dropped to the street behind the wall.

His legs gave way when he hit the cobblestones below. He fell forward, tumbled in a roll and came back to his feet in a full run. Down an alley to his right he darted as though the very demons of Peyneeha nipped at his heels. Within the alley, he ripped the scarlet blouse away and tossed it to the ground without missing a stride. He eyed his manure- and urine-stained rags with disdain. These were not the togs of one recently named Lord of Jyotis, or even a man known as a master thief. Yet, if they were to pass by the guards and slip from Pahl, it was their smelly garb and the equally malodorous mountain of dung filling the cart that would disguise them.

Not thieves in the night were they but simple ostlers going about their lowly task of mucking stables and disposing of the resulting manure—or that's what Jyotian and Challing wagered their lives on. You and your men are welcome to sample to your hearts content, Cap'n. Me and Utur here always are willing to give Pahl's protectors whatever they wish. Goran joined the charade with a deep-throated chuckle of obvious amusement at his companion's vulgar wit. Anything for the brave men of the core!

When Goran eased back on the reins to halt the swaybacked mare pulling the cart, an officer strode forward with a torch held high in his left hand and a drawn sword in his right. From the way his protruding gut bobbed with each step, Davin realized either Goran or he could best the man without raising a sweat if it came to a fight.

The Jyotian was not as certain of the ten soldiers behind the officer. With weapons, in hand, Davin judged it would be an even match. However, his sword, as well as Goran's sword and battle-axe, were buried at the bottom of the cartload of dung beside the Great Seal of Pahl. The guard captain stumbled and bashed a knee into the side of the dung cart when he jerked his torch higher to peer at the two grimy ostlers and their cargo.

Cursing the lesser gods for the games they played with him this night, the captain glared at the cart's occupants. It's the Great Seal of Pahl and it's thieves I want this night. And remember my leniency with you. The gates to the City of Pahl swung inward and freedom lay but two dozen strides away when a gravelly voice Davin half recalled hearing before called, "Be not so hasty, good Captain. Your search has come to an end.

The men you seek are seated atop the dung cart. Goran clucked impatiently at the mare to quicken her pace. Before the swayback could respond, two guards grabbed the horse's bridle. You'll find the seal beside their weapons. The two spears that pricked at his throat left the Challing's sentiment unspoken.

The Tombs of Abr'e (Swords of Raemllyn)

Another pair of spears impolitely nudged Davin's side. Peer as he might, the Jyotian's eyes could not part the darkness to reveal his hulking companion's massive form. There is a beam or two of moonlight coming between the bars of our window. See how they glint off the skull by the cell's door? Looks as if the last man to use these quarters was left where he fell and the rats stripped him clean.

To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about The Tombs of Abr'e , please sign up. Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Feb 06, Richard added it. This book is great and it ties up the last loose thread of the story. In this installment Goran and Davin are trying to acquire the last two pieces of the gold leaf that is the key to Abr'e.

After a misadventure that was more accident and dumb luck than design they manage to gather the two remaining pieces and discover the whereabouts of Abr'e. With the full leaf Goran regains his full powers and memories. Armed with lost knowledge, the duo discover they have to stand up to a madman who can cont This book is great and it ties up the last loose thread of the story. Armed with lost knowledge, the duo discover they have to stand up to a madman who can control space and time.

Thieving, a massive sea monster, a lost city, magic, mayhem, and time travel add up a fine adventure. Check it out on the kindle. Toni Chapman rated it it was amazing Sep 18, Louisa Astle rated it it was amazing May 03, Elizabeth marked it as to-read May 02, Shadow-sphere added it Mar 19, There are no discussion topics on this book yet.

Hudson Karl Lassiter Jackson Lowry. Books by Robert E. Trivia About The Tombs of Abr'e.

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