Until that morning, however, the white-haired carver didn't know the significance of the location. This knowledge was the reason for his impending death.

In each of the four corners, above the elaborate fleur-de-lis pattern in which were hidden the hissing heads of three sinister serpents, Durthang had been instructed to carve a single runic mark. It was the symbol for gold.

He couldn't entirely believe that this simple block carving he had been hired to create truly represented what he suspected it did. He was too insignificant a person to be involved even peripherally in something so great.

But still. The thought was there.

Durthang blew the last of the dust free of the block. Placing his sanding tool down with his other implements, he lifted the piece of wood from between his knees and held it upright to examine the lines of the map.

He knew where the place was. It was close by. And the symbols at the four corners. Gold.

It could not be.

Durthang jumped as he heard footfalls behind him on the stone floor of his cramped work area. So engrossed in his handiwork was he that he had not heard the old wooden door creak open. He quickly lowered the carving, turning to the intruder.

A lazy burst of early-evening air sent a twirl of sawdust spinning before the glowing hearth fire. His fat ruddy face relaxed when he saw who had entered. Durthang rose, bowing deep reverence. "Forgive me, noble sir. Your servant did not know the lateness of the hour."

The visitor stood before Durthang, resplendent in his silver chain-mail tunic. A skintight chain headdress rose up around his neck, enclosing his entire head with the exception of his face. A shining silver iron battle helmet sat atop his head, nestling down over his ears.

Perched at the peak of his armor helmet was a metal-hewed falcon, its wings spread back and frozen in perpetual flight. The bird stood as high as the ceiling, its beak open in a still-life menacing cry. The regal intruder stood a few feet inside the open doorway, his hooded black eyes staring intently at the simple peasant carver.