Mystery at Shadow Peak (6)

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 6th September 2022
Series: Mystery at Shadow Peak

Characters: Jorghan, Alekis
Description: Jorghan finds the missing steward
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 9, day 12 of Turn 10

The searchers had spread out across the broken ground in the hills above
the mining hold. In their tunics, grey and brown and green, they looked
like fallen leaves scattered across the rocks as they inspected the
ground for any signs of the missing man, moving warily. There were old
mine shafts around here, and a false step could be dangerous.

Jorghan stood on a low rise, watching, with the Warder to one side of
him and the tracker from the Hold to the other. A canine crouched at his
side, panting softly, waiting for her orders.

"It's been three months, you said?"

Jorghan nodded. "Near enough. You think she can find him?"

"If he was left out and Thread got him, there'd be nothing left but any
metal he had on him. Belt buckle, or a knife maybe, and we'd be lucky to
find it out here." The tracker patted his canine's head. "Not much she
can do about that."

"This close to the hold, the dragonriders burn Thread," Alekis said. "Or
scorch it, if it hits the ground."

"There'd be signs," the man agreed. "On the other hand, if there is a
body in one of those old shafts, she'll nose it out."

"Isn't it more likely he ran off? After the source of marks dried up?"

Jorghan had shared the altered Records with the Warder, so he was aware
of the thefts, though not the letter. Not yet. "Perhaps. But he was
alone, and it was dark. We should check." He nodded to the tracker, who
murmured a command to the canine and released her from her leash. She
bounded off, with the man following more slowly behind.

"Remarkable," Alekis said as they watched the pair at work. "They can
tell the difference between a dead animal and a man? We do lose beasts
sometimes, and then there's wild wherries and snakes."

"They can. I've seen it." The guard canines were more often trained to
track the living, but there were some in the main Hold with this skill.
"She's not often needed, thank the Egg. Mostly for accidents. It's hard
country around Garnet Valley, much like here. Someone slips and breaks a
leg, can't make it home, or falls into a ravine."

The warder sighed. "It's hard to know what to hope for. I don't wish the
man dead, whatever he may have been up to."

Jorghan considered that for a moment. If the steward had escaped, he
could have vanished into the shadowy ranks of the holdless, and perhaps
started again somewhere with his stolen marks and a new name. It would
be next to impossible to find him.

"The Hold should know the truth," he said finally, and they both fell
silent, watching the search proceed. After a while, the warder stamped
his feet and rolled his shoulders, clearly growing tired of the long,
chilly wait.

"I'll go and order some hot klah for the searchers..." Alekis started to
turn, but as he did, a volley of barking rang out and the guardsman was
already gone, jogging across the rocky terrain in the direction of the
sound, which appeared to have come from a narrow cave opening.

"Careful." The tracker held up a hand as Jorghan approached, blinking as
his eyes adjusted from the bright mountain sunlight to the dimness of
the mine. He pointed to a dark opening in the ground. A faded track led
away from it back towards the entrance, and the splintered remains of a
few wooden planks were all the remained of what had once been a cover.
The miners had clearly removed anything that could be re-used, but it
was easy enough to identify this place as an abandoned mine. The canine
ran back and forth from it to her trainer, barking and jumping up, then
returning to the hole and peering down into the dark.

Jorghan stopped at a distance, checking the ground for footprints, but
it was clear the weather had long since scoured away any traces in the
dust. He then came closer, crouched at the edge. The cover could have
been damaged long ago, and he couldn't see much but absolute darkness.
He picked up a pebble, then dropped it, waiting for the sound.

"It's deep. We'd better get the Master Miner."

"I'll go." Alekis had followed him in, a little out of breath. He eyed
the mineshaft warily, and turned back, returning to the open air with
some relief.

Master Harobben arrived shortly, accompanied by his journeymen, and took
his turn examining the shaft. "This is from before my time - it hasn't
been used since before Holder Beliron's day." His brow furrowed. "This
cover ought to be repaired."

"I'll need to have a look down there before you do that."

"Give me a candlemark, we can put together a temporary winch." Harobben
glanced at the canine, who had calmed and was sitting panting beside the
tracker as he rubbed her ears. "I'd rather send one of the journeymen
down first to take a look. Make sure it's safe."

Jorghan shook his head. "I'll go first." Whatever was down there, he
wanted a look at it, undisturbed.

The miner glanced at Warder Alekis, who looked pained, but nodded.
Apparently the serious nature of the situation was enough to convince
him, for he didn't argue, but sent the journeyman off with a list of
gear to fetch: ropes, beams, straps, glowbaskets. It wasn't long before
Jorghan found himself buckled into a leather harness and helmet,
standing with his bootheels at the edge of the open shaft. A crowd had
gathered - miners, searchers from the hold, some faces he knew but only
from a few days' acquaintance. Only the tracker, an outsider, was more
familiar. He saw the harper, Journeyman Nikolter, slipping through the
onlookers, sharp eyes missing nothing.

"Tug once to go on down, twice to stop, three times to come back up.
Take your time, go slow." Harobben handed him a glowbasket. "Don't take
the harness off or wander into the tunnels. Just look around and then
come back up. Understood?"

Jorghan nodded. He might have insisted on being the first down, but this
was the miners' area of expertise. He tugged once, twice on the rope, as
if to convince himself it'd hold, and then he leaned back over the drop,
pushing off with his boots. The winch squeaked alarmingly, but held.
Below him, more pebbles skittered and echoed down into the dark. It
occurred to him how much trust he was putting in the miner, and in all
of these people.

Duty demanded it, though. He tugged once at the the rope. The journeymen
began to work at the winch, and slowly he began to sink into the shaft.
He turned his head up, saw the faces peering down at him. Then, as he
jolted slowly downwards, he turned his attention to the walls, holding
the glowbasket close, looking for any sign of a fall.

Soon the shaft entrance had shrunk to a faint circle, most of the
illumination coming from the eerie greenish light of the glows, and only
the faint creaking of the rope broke the silence. His heartbeat sounded
loud in his ears, his breathing harsh. Every now and again his descent
stopped, followed by a questioning pull on the harness, and he responded
with a single tug. Keep going.

Near the bottom, the shaft widened, the walls tilting away, and
strangely, he thought it was growing lighter. There must be glows
growing down here. His attention turned from the walls and he looked
down, and then he saw it, a dark heap on the ground below. As he
breathed in, he caught the faintest hint of decay in the air.

At last, his boots touched the ground. There was a faint squeak and
something skittered away from the ragged jumble of cloth and bones at
his feet. Too small for a snake - a rodent, most likely. Jorghan
crouched, letting a little slack build up in the rope, then tugged twice
to stop.

The scavengers had clearly done their work, and there was little left of
the corpse but bone, scraps of hair and tattered skin. The skull yawned
wide in what looked unsettlingly like a scream, and the back of the head
and the spine were smashed into fragments. The clothes that remained,
though stained and torn, were a man's and had clearly once been fine,
and there was a belt pouch and a belt-buckle that might identify the
owner, which he gathered into a sack at his own belt. Scattered around
the gritty floor were dead glows. **He was carrying a light. He came out
here and...he fell? Or was he pushed?**

Jorghan peered closer. The remains of the fingers were clutched around
something. A scrap of cloth? Cautiously, he drew his belt knife and slid
the tip between them, prising the bones apart, then pulled out a scrap
of hide.

**A note.** He held the glowbasket close, squinting. The ink was faded,
but he could make out a few words. **Meet...nightfall...come alone...**
And the signature. **Trader Orglev.**

The name on the letter the steward had received, the day of his
disappearance. Jorgan was willing to bet a month's pay that there was no
such person as Trader Orglev. It was a code. This man had been meeting
someone, perhaps the holdless bandits who used such messages. Had the
blackmail scheme gone sour, and the participants ended up killing each
other off until only one remained?

If so - who? And where were they now?

He searched quickly through the remains, frowning. There was something
wrong here. The bones had been pulled apart and jumbled by snakes and
rodents and who knew what else, and he was no healer, but...

There were too many.

Jorghan lifted the glowbasket, turning as he did to cast the light all
around the cavern. Rustlings and hissings followed the dim green glow,
and the hairs rose on the back of his neck as the light passed a tunnel,
stretching away into the darkness, the remains of an old mine cart. The
hint of foulness in the air seemed to grow.

There. Behind the broken fragments of the cart's wheel, a flash of
white. He rose and took a few steps towards it, until he felt the
harness pulling at his back. He was close enough, though, to reach out
and hook the point of his knife into an empty eye socket.

It was another skull.

There wasn't only one body down here. There were two.

Last updated on the October 30th 2022

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