Defenders of The Sacred Land: Book One of The Sacred Land Saga (11 page)

Dorenn thought Lady Shey looked a bit unkempt as they ate breakfast. Her face appeared puffy and her eyes were red and swollen. Lady Shey, speaking in bursts of anger, would not say why she appeared so ragged. Sylvalora received the brunt of her foul mood by asking her where Gondrial had gone. Sylvalora and Tatrice decided to go shopping for dry goods without her.

Dorenn and his companions went to the docks to load the ale as Lady Shey returned to her room with Rodraq and his men close behind.

“I bet that scoundrel Gondrial is behind Lady Shey’s foul mood. I would bet my right eye on it,” Rennon speculated.

“I don’t think so, Rennon. He seemed too drunk to bother with anything but sleeping it off last night. I think she must have had some trouble falling asleep. Perhaps you should give her a sleeping power tonight,” Dorenn said as the two young men climbed up onto the red wagon.

“I will if she needs one,” Rennon replied, “but I still think it’s Gondrial.”

Dorenn rolled his eyes. “All right, if you say so.”

Vesperin chided Rennon. “I think Dorenn is right. She appeared to me as someone who had stayed up all night.”

Rennon became irritated. “All right, if she is unable to sleep at night I will ask her if she wants a sleeping powder.”

The four young men had no trouble finding the dock and loading the shipment of ale. After paying the dock master, they drove the wagonload of ale back to the Dragon’s Eye Inn and waited for Tatrice and Sylvalora to return with the dry goods. As midday approached, Tatrice and Sylvalora finally returned.

After a quick midday meal, Sylvalora roused Lady Shey from a nap, and the party packed up in preparation for the return trip. Trendan began driving the second wagon with Vesperin at his side. Rennon and Dorenn remained on the red ale wagon, and Rodraq assumed the scouting duties. Lady Shey’s two guards took their place at the rear of the small caravan, and Lady Shey sat on the rear of the dry goods wagon with Tatrice and Sylvalora riding on the top support behind the driver. Dorenn’s merchant caravan entered the final gate check in the early afternoon where two gate guards inspected both wagons.

Dorenn thought the guards had found something amiss on the dry goods wagon, but, after some talk, they waved both wagons onward, and the caravan moved out of the gate and back onto the main road home.

“I wonder what was so interesting about the dry goods wagon,” Dorenn said to Rennon.

“I cannot say, but as soon as we get a bit farther out of the city we will stop and check the wagon ourselves,” Rennon replied.

Dorenn nodded his approval.

Lady Shey climbed down from the back of the dry goods wagon, opened the door, and stepped inside, watching the city of Symbor slowly fade in the distance. She pulled the silver-bound tome from beneath her dress and held it to her bosom as thoughts of Gondrial entered her mind. Suddenly, she regretted leaving him at the castle, and she feared the worst. Her worry shifted to sadness. “Goodbye, Gondrial,” she said aloud. “I hope you made it out of the palace all right.” Then she remembered him kissing the queen and she became angry again.

“Goodbye? But I just got here. Those guards almost found me until I distracted them.” Gondrial pushed a bag of beans off him and moved to sit on a crate next to Lady Shey.

“Gondrial!” Lady Shey said with a start. Setting the book aside, she threw her arms around him and gave him a hug. Then she remembered she was still angry with him, and she pushed him back just before she slapped him squarely in the face.

“What was that for?” Gondrial asked as he rubbed his stinging cheek.

Lady Shey did not reply. Instead she hugged him warmly, and then followed her hug immediately with another slap in the face.

Gondrial grasped Lady Shey’s arms. “Okay, now I’m confused, and I implore you to stop slapping me in the face, my lady.”

Lady Shey took the book from the crate and turned her back to Gondrial.

“I see you found the book we were after. I assumed you had since you neglected to meet me in front of the stables near the inn at the agreed time. I—”

Lady Shey turned suddenly. “I know what you were doing while I was searching for this book, Gondrial. Do not make small talk with me!”

Gondrial looked puzzled for a moment and then smiled. “My lady, surely you mistake what you saw. I am a gentleman after all.”

“And just what is it that you think I saw, Gondrial? I haven’t given you any indication as of yet,” she said, tucking the book into a small chest beside the crate.

For once, Gondrial was at a complete loss for words, and then, after a moment of thought, he spurted out, “What was it that you thought I was doing?”

Lady Shey threw her hands into the air. “Oh, this is ridiculous!” she said before she climbed out onto the side step of the wagon.

“Wait, Shey, wait!” Gondrial tried to stop her, but she would not hear him, and she climbed farther onto the side of the wagon, eventually sitting just behind Trendan and Vesperin. Gondrial tried to follow her, but she had kicked the door closed and it had jammed.

Trendan looked behind him and wondered why Lady Shey had such a sour look on her face. “Is there something the matter, my lady?” he asked.

“Gondrial is aboard the wagon. He was hiding in among the dry goods. I suppose he is coming back to Brookhaven with us after all,” she said bitterly.

“So that’s why the guards almost searched us,” Trendan observed. “Why did he hide in the back of the wagon? We would have let him come along if he had asked.”

“His presence displeases you, my lady?” Vesperin asked. “I should think you would be glad.”

“No, not at all, Vesperin. I am glad.” Lady Shey shifted uncomfortably. “He should have let us know he was going to come with us is all, instead of stowing away.”

Trendan shook his head. “Was he hiding from the guards for some reason?”

Lady Shey briefly flashed on the image in her memory of Gondrial leaving the queen’s chamber. Her expression turned angry. “You know what? I do not feel like discussing the matter at the moment.”

“Aye, my lady, sorry, my lady,” Vesperin said, facing forward.

Lady Shey continued to stay in her melancholy mood even after Rodraq found a suitable place to stop for the night. After helping set up camp, she immediately retired for the evening into her tent and would see no one. Gondrial seemed indifferent about her irritation and denied involvement in her mood. Rennon was suspicious of Gondrial after he found out that he had stowed away on the wagon and began watching his every move.

After they had secured camp, Vesperin departed to a nearby clearing to pray and meditate while Rodraq and his two guards set up guard duty. Trendan selected wood from a nearby tree and practiced fletching a few arrows. Tatrice and Sylvalora busied themselves with supper. Dorenn had talked the two women into letting him select the menu for the evening. As the son of an innkeeper, he could not bring himself to eat another meal of dried meat, cheese, and beans. Therefore, he persuaded Tatrice and Sylvalora to let him cook, and he prepared a tasty meal consisting of flatbread, succulent cuts of beef with thick brown gravy, and fresh vegetables that Tatrice had purchased at the Symbor market. After the mealtime dishes were put away and the sun had set, they all turned in for the night.

Rennon walked to Lady Shey’s tent with his bag of herbs and potions. “My lady, are you still awake?” he inquired timidly.

“What do you want, Rennon?” Lady Shey asked irritably.

“I have brought you a sleeping powder. It is a very mild powder, but it should help you fall asleep. Shall I brew it for you?”

Lady Shey appeared out from the front of the tent. “I appreciate the thought, I do, but I do not need nor do I require a sleeping brew.” She smiled a thin smile. “Thank you, Rennon, but no.” She turned back into the tent, and Rennon shrugged his shoulders. “I will just leave a bit of the powder in a small bag by your tent should you change your mind,” he said as he placed a small bag from his pack beside the entrance to her tent. As he walked away, he stopped briefly and turned toward Lady Shey’s tent. He saw her arm reach out and take the small bag. Rennon smiled and then made his way back to his tent.

Chapter 6: The Woods

Dorenn awoke from a fitful sleep to the sound of chirping birds. He had gotten used to the soft bed at the inn, and his sleeping pallet required some getting used to. The camp was already alive with activity. The women were setting up for breakfast, and the men were packing the tents on the wagon.

“Are you finally awake?” Trendan asked. “Tatrice is cooking breakfast, and this is the last tent to be packed. We should move out in less than an hour.”

“Aye, I’m awake.” Dorenn looked around as if he lost something. “Is there a creek nearby? The campsites are all starting to look the same to me.”

“There is one a short distance from here. Are you going to wash up?” Trendan asked.

Dorenn did not answer, but instead rubbed his bare stomach. “I feel like I have not bathed in days and I bathed just yesterday. I figured more rain would be falling this time of season. The road is so dry and dusty.”

Trendan looked up into the clear blue sky beyond the trees. “It is true the rains are scarce this season, but as soon as we pass Cedar Falls into the woods, the rains will pick up and settle the dust on the road.”

Dorenn nodded, pulled on his tunic, and started to pack up his sleeping roll. After he put the roll away, he helped Trendan dismantle the tent and pack his belongings away on the wagon.

After a brisk walk, Dorenn found the creek and washed up. He returned to camp in time for Tatrice to bring him his breakfast.

“Thank you, Tat.”

“You are welcome; just don’t get too used to it. I expect you to wait on me hand and foot next time,” she said with a laugh. Dorenn rolled his eyes and ate his breakfast of ham and flat bread.

The next two days and nights continued smoothly without incident. Lady Shey was over her bad mood by the second night and began to talk to Gondrial again. Speaking at length with him over a game of nine cards, even Rennon relaxed his suspicions somewhat, although Dorenn knew it would still take some time for Rennon to relax and actually trust the tall half-elf. Trendan and Rodraq shared the scouting duties while Vesperin and Rennon, and sometimes Rodraq, drove the wagons. Dorenn knew Trendan too well to believe he would be content driving the wagon for long. When Rodraq took the reins, Vesperin would sit near the rear of the wagon and pray. Dorenn never quite understood the cleric’s dedication to prayer, but he never questioned it either.

On the third day from Symbor, the small caravan entered the large wooded area between Cedar Falls and Soldier’s Bluff. Rodraq estimated that the party would reach Soldier’s Bluff in the late afternoon. Just after the midday meal, the loaded down ale wagon hit a rut in the road and cracked a spoke. Dorenn and Rennon repaired the wheel to the best of their ability, but the stop delayed the caravan for several hours, putting their arrival in Soldier’s Bluff after dark.

Lady Shey, remembering that the area was the same area Fadral had claimed to run into vicious animal attacks, decided that the caravan should try to make it to the village rather than camp in the woods.

The sun began to set, and Dorenn could hear strange howls in the distance. At first, he credited the howls to a pack of wolves, but when the horses began to get antsy and spooked, he began to feel nervous. “How much farther? Can we step up the pace a bit?” Dorenn shouted to Trendan who was now driving the first wagon.

“Another two or three hours yet, maybe longer,” Trendan shouted back. “We shouldn’t press the teams much harder with the load they are pulling. If the horses tire too quickly, we may find ourselves in trouble; besides, we can’t risk that broken spoke.”

Dorenn sat beside Rennon uneasily. “I will be glad to get into the village. I have a bad feeling.”

Rennon nodded. “I won’t argue with that.”

A few moments later Rodraq returned from scouting ahead and called a halt. “There are some riders up ahead all killed. From their wounds I would say by Dramyds.”

Lady Shey stepped down from the wagon. “Are you certain they were attacked by Dramyds?”

“Aye, my lady, the fallen riders bare the bite marks of Dramyds.”

“What is a Dramyd?” Tatrice asked, her voice quaking with apprehension.

Lady Shey’s face went ashen, and she swallowed hard before she answered. “Dramyds are creatures created in the dark days before the War of the Oracle by Toborne the Betrayer. It is said he stole eggs from the dragons and twisted their offspring into stunted drakes complete with razor sharp claws and teeth to match. Their bite eats away at the flesh, leaving nothing but bone, and their claws are poisonous. Some say the god Ae’digaan bestowed Toborne with the ability to create life, and Toborne’s twisted vision spawned the Dramyds. Either way they are very dangerous creatures.”

Dorenn had heard the stories before but he was still skeptical. “I thought the Dramyds were all killed off.”

“I thought they were only myth,” Vesperin added.

Lady Shey moved to the rear of the wagon and climbed up. “The Enforcers and others hunted them down and slew them, but not all of them. Some of them escaped into the Mountains of Madness in Ishrak and to the Jagged Mountains of Symboria and Abaddonia. Those howls behind us are driving us into a trap.” Lady Shey reached for the small chest containing the tome she had brought from Symbor. “I wish they were mythical.”