Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God (9 page)

"If anyone wants to get to her, they'll have to kill me first." Veren pledged solemnly.

"We all know what we have to do." Sly told him in
exasperation. "Just get yourselves moving, and make sure that those teamsters don't realize that you're following them. This may be the only chance we get to find out what all of those weapons are intended for."

"We're heading out, Snowfeather."
Damion cast his thought to his familiar as he climbed atop his prancing stallion.
"Are you planning on joining us?"

"Of course."
The huge owl suddenly appeared from the castle battlements, and drifted down to circle over their heads.
"You'd probably get yourself killed without me."

They set off through town, stopping only once to allow the castle soldiers to break up a fight that had broken out in a tavern
, and then spilled into the street. Once the street had been cleared, they continued out of the city, and headed south on the trade road.

They hadn't made it but a few hundred yards, when Slither appeared from the shadows of the forest
.

"It appears that your pet lizard needs
to speak with you again." Shirk told Damion, gesturing to the shadowspawn that was rushing across the open field that lay between the forest and the trade road.

The one armed beast came to a stop a dozen or so paces away, then fell to its knees. "The s
sspawn hasss done what you asssked, Massster, but the humansss have already begun to return. Do you wisssh for the ssspawn to return and finisssh them off?"

Damion shook his head. "No, I think we'll look into it ourselves. Instead, I want you to keep an eye
over Sevria while we are gone. There is someone around here that is trying to arm a lot of people, and I want to make sure that the city remains safe."

"It will be as you
sssay, Massster." The one armed creature quickly stood, then hurried back across the field and disappeared into the shadows of the surrounding forest.

"He may not be pretty," Shirk grunted dubiously. "
but at least he's loyal."

"Slither's not so bad." Dam
ion nudged Storm with his heels and led the way down the trade road. "He has proven to be very useful over the last year or so. The only attacks on the trade road have been by these bandits. He has kept the dragonspawn of this region in check and out of our hair. Plus, he never gets caught stealing, or womanizing, or found passed out in a gutter." He gave the bearded man a sour look.

"What can I say?" Shirk smirked impishly. "It was a slow night."

They continued moving to the south, allowing the horses to walk at their own pace, not wanting to catch up with the slow moving caravan. That evening, they set up camp in the center of a large grove of trees some distance from the road. After tending to the horses, and grabbing a quick supper of cold chicken, they gathered near their well sheltered fire to discuss their next move.

"How much farther ahead
do you think the caravan travelled?" Raven asked Damion as she slipped beneath one of his arms and snuggled close.

"I'm guessing they are a mile or so ahead." Damion shrugged unconcerned. "As soon as Snowfeather returns from hunting, we'll
slip off for a little while and locate the place where they have set up camp."

Snowfeather returned an hour later, then he and Damion
set off into the darkness to locate the wagon train.

As soon as
he was away from their camp, Damion drew in his magic and slipped into the familiar form of a panther, then quickly set off through the shadows back towards the trade road, his paws scarcely making a sound as he prowled through the darkness. Once he reached the road, he set off towards the south, his keen eyes alert for any sign of the caravan.

After searching for only a few minutes, Snowfeather located
the caravan a mile or so to the south of their own campsite. The teamsters had pulled the wagons off to the side of the road, and were now camped in one of the fortified encampments the road crews had constructed to help protect the wagon trains that travelled through the mountains from attack.

As he drew closer, Damion could see most of the men gathered around their campfire, while several other
s stood watch in various positions near the wagons, obviously on the lookout for any sign of an impending attack.

"It looks as though they're expecting trouble."
Snowfeather hooted as he circled over the campsite.
"They have several men spread out around the site keeping watch."

"I'm going to try and sneak a little closer. Maybe I'll overhear something interesting."

"I wouldn't get too close if I were you. Those men don't look very friendly."

"I'll be fine. As long as I'm careful, they'll never even know I'm there."
He melted into the darkness, and slowly began to prowl towards the campfire.

"
I don't really care what Ickor said." A skinny man with a heavily pock marked face was telling one of his fellow teamsters. "It's too risky to be moving these weapons, especially after the last caravan disappeared."

Damion settled down in the shadows
at the edge of the camp to listen.

"
The weapons have to be at Faldor's place in two days, otherwise Ickor won't get paid." Another teamster grunted at him in an annoyed tone. "If he doesn't get paid, then neither do we. The last caravan probably just fell victim to some dragonspawn. These mountains are absolutely infested with those filthy creatures."

"I still think it was a bad idea." The pock faced man whined. "
Besides, what would anyone want with such weapons anyway? They're useless! I tried to fire one of those crossbows while we were in Sierra, and it fell to pieces!"

"Who cares what they're for?" The other teamster snapped
irritably. "As long as I'm getting paid, I could care less what they're intended for."

"Fal
dor is up to something," The skinny man continued unabated. "and Ickor was foolish enough to get us all involved. Mark my words, we're going to regret agreeing to haul these weapons!"

"And you're going to regret
you not shutting your mouth!" The irritated teamster bellowed, his scruffy face purple with anger.

The
suddenly snap of a twig caused Damion to jump in surprise. He whirled around to see one of the men who had been standing watch near the wagons now relieving himself against a nearby tree. His eyes locked with Damion's for a split second before the man suddenly let out a yelp of fright, and fumbled to grab his bow.

Damion cursed viciously, his venomous words c
oming out as a snarling roar, then he turned and leapt off into the darkness. An arrow whizzed passed one shoulder and buried itself in a tree, but he ignored it and dashed off into the darkness, leaving the terrified man to fumble through the underbrush.

He slowed to a stop once he was a few hundred yards away, then silently began cursing for allowing himself to be spotted.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine as long as I'm careful."
Snowfeather hooted sarcastically as he swooped down from the canopy above.
"You nearly got yourself killed, you dolt!"

"He caught me by surprise."
Damion admitted to his familiar.
"I never even heard him until it was already too late."

"W
ere you at least able to hear anything interesting?"

"Actually, I think I may have overheard the name of the man who is to rec
eive those weapons."
He started off towards their own campsite.
"I know it's not much to go on, but it's more than what we had before."

"Was it worth nearly getting yourself killed for?"
The huge snow owl still sounded annoyed.

"I'm not sure. I guess we'll have to wait and find out.
"

Chapte
r
5

"So Faldor is behind these weapon
shipments, eh?" Shirk asked, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "That's rather surprising. I knew that he was rather unbalanced, but I would have never expected him to be involved in something like this."

Damion and Snowfeather had quickly made their way back to their campsite, and
told the others of what he had discovered.

"Just who is this Faldor anyway?" Raven asked in a tired voice.

"He's the head of one of the outlaw gangs that prey upon the people in the area. His gang is made up mostly of pick pockets, sneak thieves, and cattle rustlers, but there
are
a lot of them. His people are spread out through all of the towns and villages in the foothills, and they deliver the stolen goods they acquire to a remote plantation he maintains in an effort to look like a legitimate businessman."

"It sound
s as though he may just be the man we're looking for." Dar chirped enthusiastically. "Do you happen to know where his plantation is located?"

The bearded thief shook his head. "I never bothered to take the time
to try and cozy up to any of his men. He didn't seem worth the trouble."

"We're not even sure that the weapons are heading for his plantation anyway." Damion pointed out. "The teamster said that the weapons were scheduled to arrive at Faldor's place. He
could
have a number of different places in which he has goods delivered."

"I guess that means we're just going have to continue following the
wagons until they reach their destination." Raven said with a shrug. "At least we now know the name of the man who is behind the shipments." She looked at Shirk. "Do you know of anyone who would be actively trying to hamper Faldor's activities?"

The thief scratched his beard thoughtfully. "
It could be one of the other gang leaders. I'm sure that many of them would go out of their way to cause as much trouble for him as they could."

"Exactly how many of these outlaw gangs are there in the area?" Dar asked Shirk curiously.

"At least twenty. That changes from time to time, of course. Occasionally, one of the gangs will be killed or captured by the local guards. Other times, the gangs will fight amongst one another in an effort to reduce the competition."

"Is there any way to find out if any of them have been actively trying to ambush Ickor's caravans?" Damion asked, stretching out on his bedroll. Raven settled down next to him, snuggling close in an effort to stay warm.