Annon looked at Hettie and she looked back at him. “We were led to believe that it was,” he said.
Erasmus chortled. “Led to believe. By Tyrus Paracelsus. Imagine that. I cannot believe that your uncle would want Drosta’s treasure in that villain’s hands. It was put there to safeguard it.”
“What?” Paedrin asked, stepping forward warily. “The treasure was put there?”
“Of course, you silly sheep-brained Bhikhu. If you are going to hide something of enormous value from a Romani or the Preachán, you do not leave it in Havenrook. You put it in a fortress among the Cruithne. I know of it because Tyrus wanted to be sure that the safeguards could not be breached. He had me test the defenses. I could not break them. He was satisfied that it was safe.”
“Do you know what Drosta’s treasure is?” Annon asked. Paedrin could tell by the look on his face that he was genuinely worried now. Hettie looked flummoxed.
“No. Only where it is.”
“You must take us there,” Annon said. “My uncle knew we could trust you. That we could rely on you to…”
Erasmus quickly rushed to the window. “Torches in the street. They are already on the way here. You must go. Now!” He waved his arms and advanced on them, trying to shush them away. “Dwyer! Get up here! Our guests must leave.”
“Please!” Hettie implored.
“What you ask is impossible. Even with a day’s head start, we would be found out, and they would follow us to Drosta’s lair. Even with horses, we would…”
“I know, I know,” Annon said impatiently. “But we need your help, Erasmus. This is important.”
“It is of no concern to me,” Erasmus said, grabbing Annon by the fringe of his cloak and tugging him toward the stairs. “Dwyer! They must go! Out with them. Out!”
“But if you would…” Hettie said.
“They will be here in moments!” Erasmus said. “You do not have much time to escape out the back. We will delay your pursuers as much as we can. Return to Kenatos. Tell your uncle he was a fool for sending you here. Tell yourselves that you were fools for trusting him.”
The sound of boots on the stairwell announced the arrival of Dwyer, who held a knobbed stick in his hand. “Out with ye, lads. Out with ye. Come on. Let’s have no trouble.”
Erasmus brushed his hands and turned back to Paedrin, who had not budged from his spot. “You too, Bhikhu. You have all caused enough trouble already.” He reached for Paedrin’s sleeve.
Paedrin was waiting for that. He intercepted the Preachán’s hand and put his finger on one side of his hand and his thumb on his palm. With a quick twist, he had the Preachán in an armlock that completely halted him.
“I do not mean to harm you,” Paedrin said. “If you do not move, it will not hurt. But you will listen and figure this out quickly. We do not have much time. Grab what you need and come with us, because if you do not, I will go back to the Millpond this evening and explain to Kiranrao that you know of Drosta’s lair. What do you think he will do with you if he finds out you have known all along?”
The others froze in the stairwell. Dwyer’s face hardened with rage.
Erasmus muttered softly. He said several things under his breath that they could not hear. Then he spoke up. “You are correct. That changes the situation entirely. Very black-hearted of you, Bhikhu, but wise considering the circumstances. Dwyer, fetch my cloak. I do hope one of you knows how to speak the Cruithne tongue. That will help us immensely.” He gazed at their faces and saw the dumb shock there. “I see you do not.” He let out a deep, exasperated sigh.
Dwyer stood by the rear door, cudgel still in hand. “I will give you as much time as I can. Make for the woods. The dark will help shield ye a bit, but not for long if they hire a Finder.”
Paedrin glanced at Hettie and saw her face stiffen with disgust. Her eyes flicked once his way, but did not linger.
Erasmus pulled on some stiff wool socks and then stuffed his feet into a well-worn set of boots. “Dry feet. Never underestimate the value of dry feet,” he muttered.
There was a loud hammering at the front door. Erasmus shrugged into his cloak and then motioned toward the woods visible beyond the next row of buildings. Annon and Hettie followed, but Paedrin stayed put.
Annon paused and looked at him meaningfully, his eyebrows lifted.
“I will join you shortly,” Paedrin said, clenching his staff.
Annon and Hettie glanced at each other.
“Go on ahead. This won’t take very long.”
Erasmus chortled. “Led to believe. By Tyrus Paracelsus. Imagine that. I cannot believe that your uncle would want Drosta’s treasure in that villain’s hands. It was put there to safeguard it.”
“What?” Paedrin asked, stepping forward warily. “The treasure was put there?”
“Of course, you silly sheep-brained Bhikhu. If you are going to hide something of enormous value from a Romani or the Preachán, you do not leave it in Havenrook. You put it in a fortress among the Cruithne. I know of it because Tyrus wanted to be sure that the safeguards could not be breached. He had me test the defenses. I could not break them. He was satisfied that it was safe.”
“Do you know what Drosta’s treasure is?” Annon asked. Paedrin could tell by the look on his face that he was genuinely worried now. Hettie looked flummoxed.
“No. Only where it is.”
“You must take us there,” Annon said. “My uncle knew we could trust you. That we could rely on you to…”
Erasmus quickly rushed to the window. “Torches in the street. They are already on the way here. You must go. Now!” He waved his arms and advanced on them, trying to shush them away. “Dwyer! Get up here! Our guests must leave.”
“Please!” Hettie implored.
“What you ask is impossible. Even with a day’s head start, we would be found out, and they would follow us to Drosta’s lair. Even with horses, we would…”
“I know, I know,” Annon said impatiently. “But we need your help, Erasmus. This is important.”
“It is of no concern to me,” Erasmus said, grabbing Annon by the fringe of his cloak and tugging him toward the stairs. “Dwyer! They must go! Out with them. Out!”
“But if you would…” Hettie said.
“They will be here in moments!” Erasmus said. “You do not have much time to escape out the back. We will delay your pursuers as much as we can. Return to Kenatos. Tell your uncle he was a fool for sending you here. Tell yourselves that you were fools for trusting him.”
The sound of boots on the stairwell announced the arrival of Dwyer, who held a knobbed stick in his hand. “Out with ye, lads. Out with ye. Come on. Let’s have no trouble.”
Erasmus brushed his hands and turned back to Paedrin, who had not budged from his spot. “You too, Bhikhu. You have all caused enough trouble already.” He reached for Paedrin’s sleeve.
Paedrin was waiting for that. He intercepted the Preachán’s hand and put his finger on one side of his hand and his thumb on his palm. With a quick twist, he had the Preachán in an armlock that completely halted him.
“I do not mean to harm you,” Paedrin said. “If you do not move, it will not hurt. But you will listen and figure this out quickly. We do not have much time. Grab what you need and come with us, because if you do not, I will go back to the Millpond this evening and explain to Kiranrao that you know of Drosta’s lair. What do you think he will do with you if he finds out you have known all along?”
The others froze in the stairwell. Dwyer’s face hardened with rage.
Erasmus muttered softly. He said several things under his breath that they could not hear. Then he spoke up. “You are correct. That changes the situation entirely. Very black-hearted of you, Bhikhu, but wise considering the circumstances. Dwyer, fetch my cloak. I do hope one of you knows how to speak the Cruithne tongue. That will help us immensely.” He gazed at their faces and saw the dumb shock there. “I see you do not.” He let out a deep, exasperated sigh.
Dwyer stood by the rear door, cudgel still in hand. “I will give you as much time as I can. Make for the woods. The dark will help shield ye a bit, but not for long if they hire a Finder.”
Paedrin glanced at Hettie and saw her face stiffen with disgust. Her eyes flicked once his way, but did not linger.
Erasmus pulled on some stiff wool socks and then stuffed his feet into a well-worn set of boots. “Dry feet. Never underestimate the value of dry feet,” he muttered.
There was a loud hammering at the front door. Erasmus shrugged into his cloak and then motioned toward the woods visible beyond the next row of buildings. Annon and Hettie followed, but Paedrin stayed put.
Annon paused and looked at him meaningfully, his eyebrows lifted.
“I will join you shortly,” Paedrin said, clenching his staff.
Annon and Hettie glanced at each other.
“Go on ahead. This won’t take very long.”
