by Mark Tyson
“I think you know as much as I know now, from Fadral to where we sit. I’m not sure what else I can tell you.”
Gondrial spied a barrel with a spigot in the corner. Two mugs were overturned on top of it. “Well, I see what contribution I can make.” He headed for the barrel. “May I?” he asked Rennon. Rennon nodded.
“Gondrial! I thought you were nursing a hangover,” Shey said.
“Hmm.” He absently scratched his ear. “It’s mostly gone.”
“Mostly? What does that mean?” she inquired.
“It means that more ale will cure it anyway and mind your story to the lads.”
She shook her head. “One day, too much ale is going to be his undoing.” She turned her attention to Dorenn. “I honestly can’t think of what to say to you.”
“How about you start at the beginning with the highlord and the Sacred Land. You need to tell us no matter the emotional pain!” Dorenn said. “Who did you marry? What exactly happened at the War of the Oracle?”
Gondrial spit out his ale, and they all turned to look at him. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask those questions.”
“You are asking very difficult questions for me to answer. I don’t talk about my marriage or the war with anyone. I will tell you what I am willing to tell you, and the rest is for me to keep to myself. I don’t see any reason why I should have to divulge all of my private life to anyone. It’s private!”
“It’s only private if it doesn’t concern me, my lady, or my friends,” Dorenn said. “The time of shadows and secrets are at an end.”
Lady Shey appeared visibly angry but had the grace and poise not to express it. She took a seat in the closest wooden chair and cleared her throat. “First off, the highlord Rastafin Stowe was a terrible man.” She looked Dorenn in the eye. “I thought the Silver Drake made a terrible mistake choosing him. She claims he was the best at the time. It must have been poor times indeed. The nobleman I married was a good man who got caught up in his work and his lands. He neglected me for power and promotion. It all worked out for the better that we split up.”
“You are still married, though, right?” Rennon asked.
“Aye, being of noble birth, we are to remain married by the traditions of our homeland. Only death will part us.”
“And they both have the capacity to live for an incredibly long time,” Gondrial said before taking another swig of ale.
“Do you ever get to see him?” Rennon asked.
“I don’t ever want to see him again. Now let’s change the subject.” She wiggled in her chair to make herself more comfortable. “What happened at the War of the Oracle is in the history scrolls at the archives in Brookhaven. I know because I put them there with the hope that you would study them one day. If you want to know what happened, read them. Or if you cannot wait, I will tell you what I told my father. Ask Theosus Fiderea. He was there, too.” She got up and exited the tent.
“I was there,” Gondrial said. “Again, what she doesn’t want to talk about is losing her best friend at the end of the war. She never did get over it.”
“Come on, Gondrial,” Dorenn began, “who was he? Who was Lady Shey married to?”
Gondrial took another swig of ale. “I’m not nearly drunk enough to be that stupid yet. Lady Shey would have me skinned.”
“Yet!” Rennon said. “More ale!”
“The fact is I will never tell you before Shey is ready to tell you herself. There is a good reason for her to keep him a secret for now. Let’s just say you know him, and to know more does endanger our cause.”
Dorenn looked to Rennon. “Satisfied?”
“No, not at all. I can’t think of a single reason to keep him a secret, but we needn’t keep badgering her to delve into the past for our sakes. It’s time to look to our task to preserve the future,” Rennon said. “It’s time to ensure our part of the story, not drag up hers.”
“You are both becoming wise beyond your seasons,” Gondrial said. “Now have a drink, and we will talk of more pleasant times!”
With the illusion in place, Veric equipped all the gear he needed to travel. Morgoran’s suggestion of going through Brookhaven was met with enthusiasm. Dorenn was expecting Tatrice and Bren to check in with him soon on the Trigothian scouting mission they were on, and then Tatrice could come home as well. He also was expecting Sanmir and Trendan to return with Kimala. Dorenn left word with Theosus, who was staying behind, to tell them to join him in Brookhaven when they returned to By’temog. Theosus planned to leave for Ardenia in a couple of weeks, and Rennon thought he would catch up to him there when his business in Brookhaven was settled. They were set to travel to Brookhaven at first light.
Dorenn found he had trouble sleeping out of the anticipation of finally going home. He got up out of bed and roamed around the ruins of the castle until he spotted a light on in Vesperin’s room. As he approached, he could hear voices. One he recognized as Vesperin, the other was female. He surmised it must be Fayne. Dorenn chuckled to himself. Did those two sneak and get together? He hesitated walking up to the door. If they were together, he didn’t want to disturb them. He was about to turn back when he saw a sudden burst of light come from Vesperin’s room. Dorenn dashed to the door and pushed it open. The room was empty. Vesperin and Fayne were gone. He became concerned. He recognized the light; Vesperin and Fayne had just used a Lora Daine.
Chapter 6: Homecoming
Dorenn immediately went to Lady Shey’s chambers and gently tapped on the door. Lady Shey answered a few moments later, wrapped in a luxurious golden robe.
“Dorenn?” she said. “What is it?”
“It’s Vesperin and Fayne. They’re gone. They used a Lora Daine. I was wondering if they said anything to you about leaving tonight?”
“Not to me they didn’t. They have been staying to themselves lately. I’ve only seen them come out for meals and such. I thought they may have been enjoying each other’s company.”
“It concerns me they have left without a word, especially by Lora Daine. It isn’t like Vesperin to keep me in the dark like this.”
“Let’s go have a look in Vesperin’s room. Maybe they left a clue as to where they were going.” She exited her chamber, and Dorenn followed her down the hall. When they entered Vesperin’s room, there was a slightly pungent smell. Dorenn recognized it to be the odor of cheese. “They took rations with them. I can smell the cheese.”
“Aye, I smell it, too. They aren’t planning on returning anytime soon, it seems.”
“Why would they just up and leave and not tell anyone?”
“I’m not sure why you’re making such a fuss, Dorenn. They have scarcely spoken a word to anyone since we defeated General Sythril. As I said, I thought they were enjoying being left alone. I mean, we are talking about Vesperin, cleric to Loracia. He is off on his own praying and worshipping most of the time. Fayne is also devoted to the goddess of life. It’s reasonable to believe they have gone off to perform something religious. They’ll be back.”
“How did Morgoran follow the staff and find me when I went after the tome? Can we follow a Lora Daine the same way?”
“I have no clue. It isn’t something I can do. We will need to wake up Morgoran. Are you sure about this? Vesperin and Fayne can take care of themselves. This seems a little obsessive.”
“After all we have been through and after all the deception we have fallen victim to, I just want to make sure Vesperin’s disappearance isn’t something that will come back to haunt me later. Will you wake Morgoran up? I’ve seen him in the morning. If you think he’s grumpy otherwise, you should not see him in the morning!!”
“I was his apprentice. I have seen him at his worst. I will wake him.”
“I sometimes forget you were Morgoran’s apprentice.”
“Come on.” She led Dorenn to Morgoran’s chamber. “It’s better not to knock on the door. That will definitely set off his temper.” She gently opened the door. Morgoran was snoring inside. She motioned
for Dorenn to stay at the doorway while she went to his bedside. “Morgoran, dear. It’s Sheyna. Wake up.” She almost sang the words.
“Hmm? Sheyna! Go back to bed, child. What are you doing up so early? It isn’t Winterhaven. I’ll teach you more spells tomorrow,” Morgoran grumbled.
“Morgoran. We seek your council. Wake up, please.” Again she cooed the words out with a singing voice.
“I’m awake. What in Fawlsbane’s beard do you want?”
“Is it possible for someone to follow a Lora Daine after the party using it has already traveled?” she asked.
“If you are a dragon. Can’t you do it?” He looked at the door. “Who is that at my chamber door?”
“It’s just Dorenn. How do I do it?”
“I have no idea. I’m not a dragon. Go ask Theosus, or did you forget he is a dragon? In fact, your father would probably know how to do it as well. Now, let me sleep!”
Shey reached down and kissed Morgoran on the cheek. “Sleep well.” He grumbled his reply.
Dorenn turned to the doorway and was startled to see the figure Morgoran had inquired about was actually Veric.
“It is possible.” Veric answered the question of the dragon stone. “But it isn’t advisable because the trail is not exact. If the first party stopped near a boulder, for example, the following party may find themselves stuck inside it. The magic stream repels the magic stream of the second stone with wild results. The second party may even find they are miles away from the first.” He rubbed his chin. “Why would you want to go after two clerics of Loracia anyway? It isn’t worth the danger to follow them, and they are prone to spontaneous religious pilgrimages, as I remember.”
“It isn’t like Vesperin to go off without a word,” Dorenn said. “But you both are right, I presume. Vesperin can take care of himself.”
“Get out of my chambers and do your useless yapping somewhere else,” Morgoran rumbled. “Better yet, get some sleep. We have the road ahead of us tomorrow!”
Veric stepped aside and let Dorenn and Shey pass. He pulled the door closed behind them. “You two, get some sleep. We can talk more in the morrow.”
Dorenn saw to it that Lady Shey was safely in her chambers, and he was about to go to his when he saw a peculiar glow coming from below Veric’s door, three doors down the hall from his own. He had not planned to investigate the glow or snoop, but as he passed the door, he couldn’t resist the urge to peer through the keyhole. He scolded himself for doing it, but he also justified it as necessary to keep the others safe. He leaned down to the keyhole and observed Veric preparing his dragon knight armor. The glow came from a magic enchantment he was casting upon it. It occurred to Dorenn that Veric didn’t plan to wait for the rest of them to leave in the morning light. Perhaps he planned to scout out ahead of the group.
“You can enter, Dorenn. I know you are there,” Veric said without looking up from his task.
Dorenn felt sheepish as he pushed open the door. “Forgive me, sir. I was merely curious.”
“No need to explain yourself, lad.” He stopped what he was doing. “Never apologize or waver. Be bold with your endeavors and never ask permission. If you are sure of your actions, you don’t need permission.” He began work again.
Dorenn noticed up close that Veric’s dragon knight armor was very different from Bren’s or Tatrice’s. Instead of scales that made up the semblance of plate, Veric’s armor was made of hide with thorny spikes at the shoulders and down the hemline. It was a greenish color with flecks of silver. “Your armor is different.”
“Oh, from what?”
“From the other dragon knights I have seen.”
“I am a different dragon knight. I am the only one of my matron and first to all others.”
“Which means what exactly?” Dorenn asked.
“It means Sylvalora is the matron of dragons and I am the first of firsts dragon knight. My rank is the highest in the dragon knight order.” He paused. “Although, I have been gone for so long I doubt I command much respect with the title anymore. I fear it is only something of the past now.”
Dorenn reached out to touch one of the spikes woven in the fabric, and Veric pulled the garment back. “Mind what you’re doing, lad, that’s sharp.”
“What is it?” Dorenn asked.
“They are called dragon spines.” In a fluid motion, hardly the blink of an eye, Veric took a spike and flung it without missing a beat from what he was doing, and the thorny spike sunk into the door trim. He moved so fast, it took Dorenn a moment to realize what Veric had done.
“You throw them!”
“I can get off about fifteen at a time with each hand if I need to. They can also carry a touch of poison or other useful substance in the tip, if I am so inclined, but my poison supply dried out over the time I was imprisoned and I have not had time to make any more yet. The apothecary Theosus said he would come by this evening with fresh supplies. Had I already filled the tips, you might have poisoned yourself.”
“So you have dragon names for your weapons, too, like dragon claw for your daggers, dragon fang for your sword, and dragon spines for your throwing weapons.”
“Aye, but I do not carry a sword and my daggers are longer and rounder than the dragon claw. Mine are called dragon talons.” He held out his hand, and the dragon spine came back to him from the door. He put it into its place on his armor and set the piece aside. “You quiz me like a boy half your age. Have you not been trained in the arts of warfare?”
“I have trained with a sword. My sword is called Dranmalin.”
“Dranmalin! The dragon hammer?”
“One and the same.” Dorenn almost felt as if he was bragging. “You have heard of it, then?”
“Aye, it was the sword of Golvashala, the Oracle of Venifyre.”
Dorenn almost choked. “The Oracle of the War of the Oracle?”
“I assume so. I was not involved in that particular conflict, if you remember.”
“Why didn’t Morgoran or Ianthill tell me?”
“They would most likely have not known of Dranmalin. I doubt the Oracle introduced his sword to anyone he didn’t use it on. I only know about it from an obscure dragon knight legend. How did you come to wield it?”
“It was given to me at the Signal Hill armory.”
“Signal Hill has some fine blacksmiths. I assume it was left there after the war. A good place to keep a sword safe from battlefield looters.”
“Actually, Signal Hill was little more than a graveyard when I first stepped foot in it. Now it is in utter ruin.” He refrained from telling the whole story.
“That’s unfortunate.”
“Are you planning on leaving us here tonight?” Dorenn said. “You look as if you are planning to go off on your own.”
Veric chuckled. “Is that what this visit was about? I thought this small talk was a bit awkward. No, lad, I do not plan on taking off without you. I need to travel to Brookhaven as well. Sylvalora and I left something there that might be useful in finding her.”
“Oh, and what would that be?”
“You!”
Dorenn felt a bit silly now. “I see. We had better get some sleep, then, I suppose.”
“Aye, probably a good idea.”
Dorenn bowed awkwardly, not knowing what else to do, and left Veric to his preparations. He went to his room and pulled back the quilts on his bed. A piece of parchment fell to the floor. I knew Vesperin would let me know what he was up to, Dorenn thought. He read the note.
Dorenn, Fayne and I are on a secret quest for our faith at Loracia’s request. We have left by Lora Daine. We will meet up with you shortly. Our quest is urgent; there was no time for leave-taking. I know you will understand. See you soon, Vesperin.
Dorenn folded the note and placed it on his bedside table. I will tell the others in the morning, he thought. He felt better now. He shuffled his feet under the quilts, extinguished the lantern flame, and settled in bed for sleep.
“Ah, I see you
have donned your dragon knight armor,” Toborne said as he entered the room where he kept Tatrice and Bren locked up. “Wise of you both.”
Tatrice was supposed to shout out the attack, but now that Toborne was in the room, she couldn’t remember why she wanted to attack him. Sylvalora followed Toborne, carrying a tray of food.
“I hope you are hungry,” she said. “I have turkey, ham, and cheese and my special herb bread.” She sat the tray on a wooden table at the center of the room. “I’ll be right back with the wine. Go ahead, you two!” She left the room.
Tatrice pulled up one of the wooden chairs to the table. Bren followed suit. She broke open the bread and stuffed both meats and the cheese in the middle and closed the bread over it before she took a big bite.
“I have never seen anyone eat it all at once like that,” Toborne said.
Bren swallowed. “Watching her jam her food between two halves of bread takes some getting used to. Personally, I would choke on it. Too much to eat in one bite!”
“That’s because you actually have to chew it,” Tatrice said. “You choke because you don’t chew enough. You gobble everything down in two bites.”
Sylvalora returned with a metal carafe of wine and four goblets on another silver tray. She poured wine into two of the goblets and handed them to Bren and Tatrice.
“Are you not joining us?” Tatrice said to Sylvalora.
“No.” She poured wine into the other two goblets. “These are for our new guests.”
There was a knock at the open door. Shadesilver and Amadace were standing there.
“Are we too late, Matron?” Shadesilver asked.
“Come in. Not at all. Come in and see for yourself.” Sylvalora handed Shadesilver and Amadace a goblet.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Tatrice knew this scene was all wrong, that she should be trying to escape, but the feeling kept slipping away. The harder she tried to hold on to it, the more it slipped away and seemed completely absurd. Shadesilver and Amadace were not fighting it, and Bren seemed to be enjoying himself.