Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3)

by Mark Tyson

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1: A Respite

  Chapter 2: The Forgotten Library

  Chapter 3: Trouble at Briarwick

  Chapter 4: The Promise of Spring

  Chapter 5: Rogue Assassin

  Chapter 6: Homecoming

  Chapter 7: Illusions and Deceptions

  Chapter 8: Ashes of Summer

  Chapter 9: Autumn Leaves

  Chapter 10: Roseshade

  Chapter 11: Fear of the Dark

  Chapter 12: Haunted Heart

  Chapter 13: Lord of Dragons

  Chapter 14: The Pillars of Sanguineous

  Chapter 15: Lux Amarou

  Chapter 16: Dragon’s Fire

  The Sacred Land Saga Book 4:

  Dedication and acknowledgements:

  Author’s Note

  Glossary

  Redemption of the Sacred Land

  Book 3 of the Sacred Land Saga

  Mark Tyson

  Shadesilver Publishing

  Map

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2015, Mark E Tyson

  Editing by Courtney Umphress www.courtneyumphress.com

  Cover Design by Shadesilver Publishing

  Additional art (spine and back cover) by Joseph J. Calkins (www.cerberusart.com)

  First Shadesilver Publishing electronic publication: February, 2015

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via internet or by any other means, electronic or print, without the author/publisher’s permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictionally and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States by Shadesilver Publishing 2015

  Chapter 1: A Respite

  The full moon dimly illuminated the darkened streets and passageways of the ancient, ruined city of By’temog, the former capital of the northern kingdom of Ishrak. From a vantage point on an overlooking hill, a dark-hooded figure surveyed the dead city. As the light of the full moon fell upon his cloak, the fabric periodically shimmered in and out of sight as if it did not wholly belong in the realm of the living, but rather had unearthly properties unknown. A gentle night breeze whistled through the nearby leafless trees, but the cloak remained still.

  The ghostly entity was unaffected by the sudden appearance of three more dark beings approaching him. The Drasmyd Duil in the lead commanded his two Dramyd subordinates to stand alert and remain behind.

  “Sythril no longer prowls the streets.” The figure’s guttural voice reverberated low and harsh. “Our enemies remain off guard, apparently set on a much needed rest, confident and secure.”

  “They have forgotten you, Master, it is to your advantage.” The Drasmyd Duil folded his wings around himself like a curtain.

  “No, Morgoran and Ianthill do not forget so conveniently. Lady Shey would know me if I came only a few steps nearer. For now, I am simply out of sight and out of mind.”

  “They have grown careless, then.”

  “Perhaps, but do not be so certain. I cursed General Sythril, and I cursed him for a specific reason. By’temog is a city of secrets—my secrets.”

  “Do your secrets remain safe?”

  “Not for much longer, I fear.” The dark stranger held up his hand in front of his face. His hand was beginning to fade. “I grow weak in this form. I am not strong enough to remain here.” He pointed to the spot where Dorenn and the rest had set up camp. “Watch them but do not act. Let them find him and free him; it will work to my advantage in the end, before all of this is over.”

  “Master, if they free him, he will find the Silver Drake. It will be his singular purpose.”

  As the cloaked figure faded from view, its guttural voice rattled on. “He will leave corpses in his wake, and that is why his freedom is to my advantage.”

  Lady Shey handed the pipe she had just packed with tabac to Gondrial. He took the pipe and lit it with the stick he had burning in the campfire.

  “Thank you,” he told her. She nodded and sat down on the fallen elm tree log beside him.

  After Gondrial was satisfied his pipe was well lit, he poured himself an ale and sat back against the log. “Ah, amber ale. That Theosus fellow sure does know how to travel.”

  “Are you certain he knows you are into his ale?” Shey asked.

  Gondrial shrugged and grunted something before he downed more of the Pale drink

  Trendan and Sanmir, after a brief scouting mission, returned to camp. Trendan helped himself to some of the ale while Sanmir found a place to sit.

  “Any news, Trendan?” Gondrial asked.

  Trendan took a swig before answering. “The city is quiet now. We didn’t find anything of note.”

  “The night is as still as death.” Ianthill let out a great cloud of smoke. “And look at that moon, all silvery and full. It’s one of the brightest moons in recent memory. We could see sneaks far in advance.” He breathed in the night air. “It’s times like these that make life almost worth the trouble.”

  “All that and a keg of ale,” Gondrial quipped.

  “One day you will realize that life has more to offer than a stiff drink and a good time,” Ianthill rebutted.

  Gondrial held up his tankard “May that dreadful day never come.”

  Lady Shey decided to pour some of the ale for herself. She held out her free hand to Ianthill. “Do you need a refill, Ianthill?”

  “Aye, since you are up.” He winked at her and handed over his half-empty tankard. “Come to think of it, have you two seen Vesperin or Fayne since breakfast?”

  Lady Shey filled Ianthill’s tankard. “They were cleaning out the cracks in between the stones in Vesperin’s bedchamber with sharpened sticks the last time I saw them.”

  “They were doing what?” Ianthill said and then chuckled. “Are they spending time together cleaning?”

  Lady Shey handed Ianthill his tankard and sat down on the log beside Gondrial again. “I know. I asked them why in the world they were trying to clean out the crevices of an old ruin, and do you know what Vesperin told me?”

  “This ought to be good,” Ianthill said.

  “He said that they found an old gold coin lodged in one of the cracks and they were looking for more.”

  Gondrial sloshed his ale. “Vesperin told you that? Since when does he care anything about worldly possessions? I thought all of those cleric-of-Loracia types had other, higher priorities.”

  Lady Shey took a drink “I don’t know. He said he wanted to see if they could find any more of them.”

  “To each his own,” Gondrial said before he took another drink. “Who are we to question or judge?”

  Trendan downed his ale, upturned his tankard and placed it on top of the keg, and trudged off into the night.

  “Was it something I said?” Gondrial asked.

  “He is just coming to grips with life’s little troubles,” Sanmir said. “He will be all right; no need to worry.”

  “I expected Morgoran and Dorenn to be back by now. It’s getting late,” Ianthill said.

  “It’s not that late yet.” Gondrial got up to refill his tankard.

  “Seriously, Gondrial, that has to be your fifth or s
ixth tankard. Go easy on that stuff. Shey, can’t you do something?” Ianthill inquired.

  “It’s only my eighth, and after flying around on that damned ship, I need it.”

  “You know I can’t do anything about it. And you know how he is when he gets going,” Shey said.

  “Ah, I’ll have some of that ale!” It was Morgoran. “Before Gondrial finds the bottom.”

  Ianthill reached into his pack nearby and produced Morgoran’s tankard. He tossed it to Morgoran. “Here you go; it’s almost clean.”

  “Thank you, brother.”

  Dorenn found his way to the fallen log and plopped down. “Are there anymore tankards about?” he asked.

  “Trendan left one on the keg. I’ll pour you some,” Shey said. “Don’t go into any details until I get back.” She scurried off.

  Morgoran took out his long-stemmed pipe and found his pouch of cherry blossom tabac. He sat down near Ianthill and began stuffing the pipe.

  Lady Shey returned a few moments later with a filled tankard for Dorenn.

  “Well?” Ianthill asked.

  Morgoran lit his pipe. “He was there. Kerad is as good as Naneden’s lap dog now. All that time he was supposed to be taking care of me in my cursed state and he was planting seeds of betrayal.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Ianthill told him. “We were all fooled. Enowene worked side by side with him and never suspected, and she has eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “So Kimala is found out, then.” Shey wondered but already knew the answer.

  “Aye, from what we were told, Kerad made sure she was exposed as soon as he was able. We snooped around as much as we could without being detected, but we never did find her.”

  Dorenn took a long drink from his tankard. “I thought I got a sense of Sylvalora at one point, too,” he said. “She may be there somewhere. I can’t be sure. I still don’t know how all of this is supposed to work.” He pointed to his head.

  There was a long silence where Dorenn packed his pipe and Gondrial sucked down more ale.

  Ianthill puffed another cloud of smoke before breaking the silence. “Oh, I did get a bit further on deciphering the tome. There are a few Amar runes that I recognized. It was a set of instructions basically saying that the tome can be read by those who need to see it the most, or some fool thing like that.”

  “Not very helpful, is it?” Gondrial stated, his speech beginning to slur.

  “Actually, it makes some sense to me,” Dorenn spoke up. “I think it means that the words can be read by anyone who needs to read them. It is a book for bestowing magic on mankind. It makes sense that it’s only readable to those who need it the most, when they need to read it the most.”

  “If that’s what it means, then we don’t need to go to Lux Amarou after all,” Lady Shey said. “Eventually, you will get out of it what you require.”

  Dorenn clicked his pipe as he bit down on the stem, and spoke between clinched teeth. “No, we are still going. I want to know everything in that book, not just a few instructions.” He glanced at the full moon and twinkling stars, his voice becoming somber. “But first, I think it’s time to go home to Brookhaven. If it takes a war to oust Naneden from the highlord’s throne, some of us may not get another chance.”

  Ianthill nodded. “You may be correct. From what I have seen and heard, Naneden had enough of an unholy army of Dramyds and Drasmyd Duil to take and hold Lux Enor, but at the moment, he doesn’t have the numbers to branch out from there. What small forces we had were most likely reduced to almost nothing. He knows if we can muster a force, or somehow get our army back, his main force needs to defend the city.”

  “I agree,” said Morgoran. “I think you are dead on, Ianthill, except for one point. Toborne has been mysteriously absent while Naneden has ravaged Symboria. He has Sylvalora hidden somewhere, and he turned Melias into an even stronger version of Drasmyd Duil.” He looked to Dorenn. “What is it called again?”

  “Brae Daun Duil,” Dorenn answered.

  “Aye, Brae Daun Duil, that’s right. He is obviously somewhere where he can tinker with the old methods he and I pioneered. He has to be getting a fresh supply of dragon eggs and dragon spawn in an area big enough to work. I think he’ll also bring his countrymen from the East, both Abaddonia and Scarovia, to bear on Symboria before long, if he can convince the cowards to fight for him.”

  Ianthill puffed on his pipe a moment. “He might even have ties with the dragons of Kragodor again.”

  “I can answer that,” Dorenn said. ‘”He doesn’t have ties with Kragodor. I have spoken to King Dravenclaw and his lieutenants. They want nothing to do with Toborne. They did tell me of a rumor that Toborne has dragon farms somewhere on the Scarovian side of the Jagged Mountains. They wanted to send patrols out that way to investigate but they can’t get past King Amarantus’ dragon patrols out of Draegodor, and the king refuses to grant an audience with any of his exiled kin.”

  “That old stubborn fool of a dragon,” Morgoran said of King Amarantus. “He never did know when to let up.”

  “He holds terrible grudges too,” Ianthill added. “How did you manage to talk to the king of the dragons in exile?”

  “It’s a long story, but a quick answer would be that I learned about how to approach him through one of the essences I absorbed.”

  Morgoran let out a billow of smoke. “That still doesn’t sit right with me. Are you sure you are not having headaches or any other ill effects from the trials?”

  Dorenn took a deep breath. “Not as such, no. However, I no longer feel them or their influence. It’s as if they have faded away and left behind only what I need. Like a cup of ocean water leaves salt behind when the water fades away. I can remember how to do certain things, but I am no longer driven by them.” He stared into Morgoran’s bright blue eyes for a moment until the old wielder became uncomfortable.

  “What is it, lad? You are staring a hole right through me!”

  “I was just wondering how far you would have gone if Kerad’s influence had held.”

  Lady Shey crossed her arms in riposte. “Don’t let thoughts like that consume you. Morgoran is stronger than you might realize.”

  Morgoran stopped his old apprentice with a hand gesture. “It’s a valid question, Shey. A question I can probably answer, so let me and we can be done with it.” He took a swig from his tankard. “I would not have stopped until I hunted you down and got you where I wanted you. I don’t know if Kerad’s influence would have subsided, but I am not a murderer. I am sure I would have come to my senses.”

  “I’m glad you still have a sense of humor about it,” Dorenn said.

  “I wasn’t kidding with you. The anger that was raging inside of me seemed to be very real, although I could not justify it. Every time you came near, it festered.”

  Dorenn nodded. “Some of it was from the essence shards inside of me—old enemies and old animosity. One of the essences told me that I was the only person ever known to have survived receiving more than one essence and that you feared you were not strong enough to stop me. Any truth to that?”

  “None,” Morgoran stated flatly.

  A long silence blanketed over them before Ianthill again thought of a way to break it. “You know, there is a great library here at By’temog.” He pointed the stem of his pipe to a crumbling building a short walk from where they sat relaxing.

  “Was a great library,” Morgoran corrected. “I’m sure the parchment and scrolls have long since turned to dust. It’s been centuries since anyone has been inside it.”

  “Do either of you remember where it is?” Dorenn asked. “I would be interested in seeing what’s still there. Maybe some dusty books survived or some forgotten written treasure that hasn’t been seen for seasons!”

  Ianthill again pointed his pipe stem toward the library building and continued to point at it with a stabbing motion.

  “I get it, Ianthill, you are pointing at the library,” Dorenn stated.

  “
It would be interesting to explore. I, for one, am bored lounging around,” Lady Shey said.

  “This may be our only chance to enjoy a respite for a long while, Shey,” Morgoran pointed out.

  “And I can’t think of a better way to spend a respite than curled up with a fascinating book. I think we should go see what’s there,” Shey said.

  “Count me out,” Gondrial slurred. “The last place I want to be is in a dusty, moldy library. I think I will go to bed.” He got up and stumbled away.

  Dorenn tapped the spent tabac out of his pipe and into the palm of his hand. “You know, my lady, you seem excited to discover lost volumes of lore, and I do have the Tome of Enlightenment.”

  Lady Shey took Dorenn by the arm. “Aye, and none of us can make any sense out of it yet.” She brightened. “In fact, this library may have books to help us with reading it.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high,” Morgoran cautioned. “While it is true no one has been able to get near this library since General Sythril began roaming the ruins, we must face the possibility that most of the fragile tomes will no longer be readable.”

  “Such negativity! We won’t know until we go find out,” she replied.

  “Why don’t we head there at first light? It is getting too late tonight, and I am sure we could better explore it in the daytime,” Ianthill suggested.

  “Aye,” Dorenn agreed. “We can explore the library tomorrow and be on our way to Brookhaven on the day following.”

  “It is settled, then,” Morgoran said.

  Trendan returned to camp with a roll of parchment in his hand. “Dorenn, before you turn in, Sanmir and I would like a word.”

  “All right,” Dorenn replied.

  “In private, if you don’t mind.”