Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God (46 page)

The fiery haired sprite hurried to the door of the office and ordered a passing servant to bring them food and wine. He hurried back, then held out a chair so their visitor may take a seat.

"To what do we owe this honor?" Lady Skie asked in a respectful tone.

"I come on behalf of the Serpent Mother, Estheryal," The old woman told them, her expression growing grave. "The recent events in the world has Estheryal very troubled. The birth of the Dragon Lord's daughter has inadvertently brought about the seeds the dragon god needs to sew his new race of serpents."

"Dear gods!"
Lady Skie gasped, horrified. "Is there no way to stop him?"

"
The only way to foil the dragon god in his plans is for the Dragon Lord to rescue his daughter
before
the witch reaches the highland temples. If the witch succeeds in delivering the child to the dragon god, then the girl, along with the rest of mankind, shall surely be lost."

"We need to get word to Damion!" Shirk exclaimed, his face pale. "He needs to know what that witch is planning to do
."

"The Dragon Lord already knows
what fate awaits his daughter, and yes, the world, if he fails to rescue little Leia. We had quite the spirited conversation on the subject."

"You spoke with Da
mion and the others?" Lady Skie's face was flushed with excitement.

"I did," Gwynth smiled gently. "and they are all fine, though a bit
weary from their chase."

"And my father?"
Her voice cracked slightly.

The elderly woman laughed. "That
wily old wizard is doing quite well. It seems adventuring agrees with him. He looks like he's having an enormous amount of fun."

"That's my father for you." Lady Skie stated with a roll of her eyes.

"What will happen to Leia if Damion fails?" Dar asked in a subdued voice.

The old woman's face fell. "Things too terrible to discuss." Her face suddenly brightened
. "But the Dragon Lord understands what is at stake. He will do what must be done."

"So there's nothing we can do?" Shirk asked.

"Of course there is, friend Shirk," Gwynth laughed again.

"
And what's that?"

"We can enjoy a nice dinner."

************

They crested a hill late
r that evening to find the massive city of Teir sprawled out before them.

"Behold," The twins exclaimed in grandiose voices. "the city of Teir."

The companions merely stared down at the city in open mouthed astonishment. It seemed impossible that any city could be so large.

"How long will it take us to pass through Teir?" Raven asked with wide eyes.

"At least a week," Jacom answered with a sigh. "and that's only if we're lucky, and the Teirsians don't give us any problems."

"
From this point, the city stretches for forty leagues in every direction," Jarom continued. "and there's a Teirsian soldier on nearly every corner. That's going to give the witch a lot of opportunities to gather a force to try and slow us down."

"Where does the King dwell?" Raven asked curiously as they continued to slowly make their way towards the city.

"At the palace, of course," Damarius told her, brushing his brow lock from his eyes absently. "It actually resembles a gladiator arena more than it does a palace. The Teirsians tend to settle their disputes through violence. Anytime a Teirsian challenges another, they settle their differences at court before the king."

"Where is this arena located?" Damion asked curiously.

"In the heart of Teir. It's so large that they can fit half of the population of the city inside."

"Why
did they build it so large?"

"The
battles that go on at the palace arena are the most popular form of entertainment among the Teirsians." Jacom explained.

"People come from all over the city to watch the battles,
" Jarom added. "and place bets on who they think will triumph, of course." 

"So the people
of Teir spend their days watching their fellow countrymen slaughter one another?" Raven had a dubious expression on her face. "Seems a little barbaric, if you ask me."

"Nonsense."
The old wizard snorted. "Who doesn't love to watch a good fight?"

They pushed on, and soon reached the
massive battlements that surrounded the sprawling metropolis.

"What's going on here?" Damion gestured to the line of wagons, horses, and merchants
, waiting to be allowed to enter the city. "Why are they making these people wait?"

"The Teirsians inspect every wagon, merchant, and
traveler that attempts to enter the city." Damarius told him with a shrug.

"That could complicate things." Sly grunted, staring at the line of people waiting to enter the city. "If the witch passed through here, she
is sure to have alerted the guards at the gate. We may not even make it into the city."

They waited patiently while each group in front of them
was stopped and inspected, then cautiously rode up to the gate, which was guarded by several dozen armor clad Teirsians.

As soon as they reined their horses, a hard faced Teirsian with short cropped grey hair
and a sour expression came stumping forward, scanning their group with shrewd eyes. He stopped a half a dozen paces away, and stood staring for several long moments. "So," The man's voice was surprisingly soft. "you are the people that witch wished us to detain." He stated this with air of someone who knew his words to be true.

Damion
realized immediately that lying to this man wasn't going to help their situation, so he chose to speak the truth. "We are." He told the man in a calm voice. "Her and her khalkan have kidnapped my daughter, and we are trying to rescue her before they make it to the safety of the highland temples."

The man stared at Damion for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Finally, he slowly stepped aside to let them pass. "Then you'll want to hurry along if you hope to catch them. They passed through here just before dawn. They're well into the interior of the city by now."

"You're not going to try and detain us?" Sly asked in surprise.

The stern looking man scowled. "I do
not
take orders from heathen witches, nor the spirits that they serve." He drew himself up proudly. "My god is Triton, God of War. I care not what some brain sick witch has to say." He gestured for them to move along. "Go and save your daughter, but be cautious. Not all Teirsians share my dislike of highland witches."

"
You have our thanks, friend." Damion told him in genuine gratitude. "Do you happen to have any idea in which direction the witch may have taken?"

"
She didn't say, but I have the feeling they were heading towards the north gate."

"Thank again, friend."

"No thanks is needed." The sour faced old man replied with a dismissing wave. "Just do the world a favor and wipe that witch from the face of this world. Her kind are nothing but a blight upon our land, and our proud people."

"We will do our utmost to make sure her life is as short as possible."

"Good man!" The grey haired man barked approvingly. "Now, quit wasting time, and get moving!"

With one last nod, Damion led the others through the heavy gates and into the sprawling city of Teir.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected." Sly commented as they trotted away. "I expected a hundred Teirsians to come rushing forward to try to stop us."

"Not all Teirsians are superstitious when it comes to highland witches." Damarius explained
in a scholarly tone. "Many look upon them as outcasts, and won't have any dealings with them at all."

They pressed on, using Storm's massive size to carve a path through the crowded streets.

As was common, many of the merchants and locals they passed stopped to stare at Damion with wide fearful eyes. He did his best to ignore the stares as they pushed on through the crowd, although Storm, sensing his master's displeasure, began to grow more and more foul tempered. The huge warhorse finally expressed his displeasure by grabbing an unfortunate merchant who wandered too close by the back of his tunic using his teeth, then tossing him unceremoniously aside, sending the poor man crashing into a group of Teirsian soldiers who were standing nearby.

"Was that really
necessary?" Damion asked the hulking brute in exasperation.

Storm merely ignored him,
and continued searching the crowd around them for another victim.

"It's
getting a little late." Jacom pointed out, glancing back at the Teirsian soldiers, who were still trying to untangle themselves from the dazed merchant. "Perhaps we should find somewhere suitable to stop for the night."

"Teir can be a very dangerous place once the sun has fallen." Jarom added, watching in amusement as Storm continued to look about for his next victim. "Even with all of the soldiers, thieves and cutthroats abound here."

"We should really press on." Damion disagreed with a frown. "I don't want to lose what ground we've managed to gain."

"Besides," Sly snorted in amusement. "we can just turn Storm loose on
anyone who crosses us, then sit back and enjoy the show. An entire army of thieves wouldn't stand a chance against that beast."

As if on cue, the huge stallion
trotted two steps sideways and slammed his hip into another passerby, sending them crashing hard to the ground.

The man leapt to his feet, red faced and angry, but quickly
grew pale when he laid eyes upon the enormous warrior mounted upon the even larger warhorse. He gulped audibly, then quickly hurried away, his eyes wide with fear.

Damion couldn't help but chuckle. "You big bully." He murmured to the prancing warhorse, who nickered happily, then
returned to looking for victims.

It was well after midnight
, and the crowd in the streets had finally thinned, when they had their first encounter with bandits. Twenty men wearing dark hooded cloaks suddenly came pouring out from a dark alleyway brandishing a variety of weapons, trying to catch them unaware.