Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3)

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Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3) Page 8

by Mark Tyson


  “I received word from my men that the rest of your party plans to return to Brookhaven,” Toborne said. “I think you all should meet up with them there.”

  Tatrice could hardly contain her excitement. “We are going home?”

  “Aye,” Toborne said. “See, I am a reasonable fellow. No need for concern. I want you to go back home. I want you to spread the word of my good will to your friends.”

  “Will you be joining us?” Bren asked.

  “I am afraid that Sylvalora and I have business in Lux Enor. I am sure you will join us there when you are done visiting Brookhaven.” He clasped his hands together. “In fact, I think you should all be going as soon as you are done eating and drinking. If you fly from here tonight, you should arrive about a half a day after the others, barring no interruptions, that is.”

  “See, Tatrice,” Bren said. “No need to worry. Toborne is an upstanding fellow.”

  Toborne seemed pleased with Bren’s assessment.

  “I can’t wait to get home,” Tatrice said. “I am so excited, I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  Something is wrong here! Tatrice thought, and then the thought was gone again.

  Dorenn could hardly contain his excitement when they topped Watch Hill and he could see the village of Brookhaven nestled in its little valley. He turned to Rennon to see if he was as excited as he, but Rennon was not seated next to him on the buckboard. He could have sworn Rennon had ridden next to him most of the journey from By’temog. He looked around at the rest of the caravan but didn’t immediately see his friend. Something at the back of his mind nagged him. Something bad had happened to Rennon. He saw a brief image of Rennon being carried away by a gang of ruffians, but the image quickly faded away like a dream after waking. It was vaguely reminiscent of the time he saw Lady Shey carried away, but this time, he was sure it was just a dream. Rennon would turn up. A moment later, Rennon was pulling himself up onto Dorenn’s buckboard, a broad, excited smile on his face.

  “I can’t believe we’re home!” Rennon said.

  Dorenn reached over and put his hand on Rennon’s forehead.

  “What are you doing!” Rennon protested.

  “Just checking. I thought you might be a Drasmyd Duil. I had the weirdest dream about you being carried away.”

  “Well, it’s me. I’m not a Shadow Lurker.”

  “I can see that. Still, I had to be sure.”

  Rennon took a deep breath. “Do you smell it, that pine and evergreen smell, and the cook fires?”

  “Aye, the sights and smells of home. It almost feels like we never left.”

  As they got closer to the village, Dorenn noticed garlands and ribbons of Summerwills Day decorated the houses and shops. With the cool mountain air and breezes, he had almost forgotten the heat of the plains, and how hot it was the middle of summer.

  When they neared Sanmir’s apothecary shop, Rennon left Dorenn’s side. He wanted to know who Sanmir had running the place. Dorenn wasn’t surprised to see Deylia, from one of the wagons behind his, also run up to the shop. The two claimed to be only friends, but Dorenn wondered about them every time he saw them together, which was virtually all the time.

  The wagon lumbered along the cobblestone street until, at last, Dorenn beheld the Tiger’s Head Inn, his home. Durn, the stable hand, waited outside the front doors for Dorenn’s approach.

  He thought it strange that Durn didn’t rush inside after he saw him driving up to tell his parents that he had returned. At last, he saw Durn recognized him and went inside. As his wagon pulled up to the portico, Durn came out of the inn followed not by his mother or father but by the elf princess Seandara.

  Kimala slept soundly after she, Trendan, and Sanmir reached the old fortification outside of Signal Hill. The stone walls were crumbling and it only had half a roof left standing, but it was safe enough for the three to rest and catch a breath. Overgrown vegetation essentially hid the structure from view. Sanmir prepared an area of the fort for habitation as best he could while Trendan went out on a scouting mission. Sanmir cleared the old wood-burning stove of dirt and debris and used it to boil some bittering tea.

  As night approached, Trendan returned from his scouting mission. He found Sanmir sitting by the stove sipping tea. Kimala was still sleeping, he presumed. “I found no evidence that we were followed here.” He used a crumbled bit of the stone wall as a chair. “It’s almost as if they haven’t missed her yet. I don’t like it. I can’t help but think Naneden either has no interest in Kimala anymore or she is leading us into a trap. I never have fully trusted her, even after it was confirmed she was working on our side the entire time.”

  “You have always had a problem with trust. Why is that?” Sanmir asked over a sip of tea.

  “I have no answer for you. Trust is not something I’ve ever given away lightly.” He reached out to pour himself some bittering tea in the cup Sanmir left out for him. “Remind me again why you convinced me to rescue her.”

  “Now, Trendan, there’s no need to be degrading. Kimala is more important to us than you might realize.”

  “Why is she still asleep? Were her injuries so grievous?”

  “No, not particularly. I mean, there are no broken bones at least. I gave her a sleeping draft after I patched her up. It’s normal to the healing process. We need her to be able to get around on her own power when we leave here.”

  “If I am such a burden, then why did you risk your life, archer?” Kimala limped into the area Sanmir had prepared. “Is there another cup?”

  “Certainly, I left one over by the stove for you, mistress,” Sanmir answered.

  Kimala found the cup and poured herself some tea.

  “I meant no offense,” Trendan said.

  “You gave it, nonetheless.” She took a sip of her tea. “Where are we?”

  “In an old fortification near Signal Hill,” Sanmir answered.

  “Excellent, we are not too far from Brookhaven. We have to get there as soon as possible.”

  Trendan cleared his throat. “We are supposed to get to a Migarath Portal and go to By’temog, where the others are waiting.”

  “No, they won’t be there. They are headed for Brookhaven as we speak. They may have already arrived.”

  “I think your sense of time may be off, mistress,” Sanmir said. “We came to you from By’temog by portal. We left the others there. Unless they traveled by portal as well, they would not have had the time to make the journey.”

  “Why Brookhaven?” Trendan asked.

  “I suppose I’m useful to you now?”

  Sanmir appeared annoyed. “You have always been useful to me. Ignore the boy and his offhand comments.”

  Kimala nodded. “Before Kerad arrived, I overheard Naneden making plans to set a trap at Brookhaven.”

  “Why would he do that?” Trendan asked. “How could he possibly know any of us would return there?”

  “Toborne set a trap for Tatrice and Bren in Trigothia. He plans to send them and their dragons to Brookhaven. I don’t know how he knew the others would return there, but he did. I’m sure he has people watching Dorenn’s every move. They are setting up Summerwills Day as a distraction. There is something at Brookhaven Toborne plans to use to capture someone. It wasn’t clear to me how or who. I don’t know the whole scheme. I tried to get more information, but I was caught.”

  Sanmir scratched his head. “Are you certain the plans would still be carried out with you discovered?”

  “I was eavesdropping when I gleaned the information. I don’t think Naneden realized I overheard. It was before Kerad showed up and exposed me.”

  Trendan took another sip. “Brookhaven would be a good place to entice Dorenn and the others to return to. It wouldn’t take much; they are all worried about family there.”

  Sanmir sighed. “I didn’t tell them everything about the state of Brookhaven when I left it. The village elders were busy trying to resurrect an ancient prophesy of Ashonda. According to legend, when the vill
age needed her again, she would return to protect them. The village was in near panic, even though the armies of Naneden never attempted to take it. I am convinced Morgoran and Ianthill are too smart to stay in the village for long.”

  Kimala found a place to sit. “They left Brookhaven untouched for a reason. Toborne and Naneden, I mean. The pieces are all there, but I haven’t been able to figure out how they fit together. I do know that Brookhaven is definitely part of their plan.”

  “All right. We head to Brookhaven at first light. We can sneak into the village after dark to my shop. I think it best we don’t stay hidden if we are the first to arrive,” Sanmir said. “Maybe we can investigate what is supposed to happen there.”

  Chapter 7: Illusions and Deceptions

  Morgoran came to take Dorenn’s wagon to the stables as soon as they stopped in front of the Tiger’s Head Inn. “Go and see about your family,” he said.

  Dorenn nodded and handed over the reins. Seandara greeted him with a warm and friendly smile. She radiated with exuberance at seeing him well. He didn’t know what to think about her being there. The last time he saw her, he made a fool out of himself, being afflicted with essence sickness.

  “It is good to see you, my lord,” she said when he walked up to the inn entrance.

  All he could think to say to her was, “I am not sure I should be referred to as a lord, my lady, but I am pleased to see you as well.”

  “You are the lord of the manor, sir. That’s all I meant.”

  He took her hand and kissed it. He had seen visiting nobles do that to his mother and he thought it was appropriate, but he felt awkward afterward. He could tell by her expression she felt awkward about it, too.

  Dorenn greeted Durn with a manly hug and shook his hand. “Where are my parents? I thought my mother especially would run out to greet me.”

  “Come inside, Master Dorenn, and I will fill you in on the goings on of late.” Durn ushered him through the doorway and into the common room. “Your parents are both in fine health but are not present at the inn anymore.”

  Dorenn sat down at a table in the common room with Durn. Seandara joined them.

  “I am sure you are anxious to know of your parents, so I will get right to it. A few days after Sanmir left to find you, a messenger came to the inn to talk with your father. He bore the crest of Ardenia, so I let him pass. He explained to your father and mother that the king of Ardenia was very ill and expected to pass from this world. His only heir to the throne, Prince Daleil, had been recently killed in an Enforcer battle with those inflicted with the wild magic. With no other heir to the throne, the rule of the Arden family will come to an end with King Noeed Arden, making the Adair family the next in line for the throne. Being a direct descendant of Princess Marella Arden, your father is the only person, by blood, who can claim the throne legally upon the king’s death. The messenger came to retrieve your father and mother and escort them back to Ardenia. Your father knew you might return to Brookhaven someday, so he put me in charge of the inn with the stipulation that I impart this information to you upon your return.”

  “It’s possible my father, Lourn Adair, is king of Ardenia right now?”

  “If King Noeed Arden passed from this life, aye, Lourn Adair is king of Ardenia.” He took a deep breath. “Now for the bad news. Since the highking’s death and the usurping of the throne by Naneden the Mad, there is nothing or no one to prevent the Arasyth family from the neighboring kingdom of Sythia to mount an invasion and try to take Ardenia. According to the messenger, they have been amassing knights and infantry on the Sythian-Ardenian border. It is possible that should your father ascend to the throne, he will be defeated and killed by an invading army.”

  Dorenn pounded his right fist into his left hand out of frustration. “The fools! The Trigothian knights should be rallying to help retake Lux Enor and the Sacred Land, not fighting amongst themselves.”

  “Forgive me, Master Dorenn, but I think the Sythians have little interest in regaining the Sacred Land. The knights of Trigothia do not see Naneden the Mad as a threat.”

  “Naneden the Mad is only a pawn,” Dorenn said. “I went to the Sacred Land not long ago, and it isn’t Naneden the Mad who has a hold on the power there. I couldn’t tell if it was Toborne either, to be honest.” He looked at the somber face of Durn. “I have not divulged that to the others yet. Keep it to yourself. I don’t want anyone else to know that I suspect a greater threat from some, as for now, unknown force.”

  “You suspect Toborne is not the mastermind of the peoples trying to usurp the power of the Sacred Land?” Durn asked.

  “Aye, that is what I am telling you. When I arrived in the Sacred Land, what I felt was not Toborne. But as I said, speak of it no further.”

  Veric entered the inn and placed his pack near Durn. “I should like a room as well.” He flipped a shiny silver coin to Durn, who caught it easily.

  Durn looked at the silver piece. “Sir, this is far beyond the price of a room.”

  “Put it against my bill. I will be bathing and eating in the common room as well. You can deduct what I use and what is left at the end of my stay you may keep.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Durn bowed. “With your leave, sir,” he said to Dorenn.

  “Of course, attend your duties.”

  Durn had a lad come and take Veric’s belongings as he and Dorenn exited the inn. Veric had the Tome of Enlightenment that Dorenn had given him to study under one arm.

  “I thought we could talk in the Village Council of Elders chambers,” Veric said. “Council chambers are designed for privacy.”

  Dorenn nodded, and they made their way to a building about fifty paces from the inn. Veric opened the door for Dorenn and followed him inside. After entering the main council room and securing the large, wooden double doors, Veric placed the tome on the rectangular council table.

  Dorenn opened the Tome of Enlightenment and maneuvered it where he and Veric could both look at it. The Council of Elders chamber was dimly lit, so Veric pulled one of the candelabras closer. He thumbed through the tome, stopping on certain pages for a protracted amount of time before moving on.

  “I can read most of the tome; however, it is correct that the tome only reveals the information that you need. The words keep shifting in the passages the gods want to keep hidden. There is much here about the use of essence and how it needs to be handled. I will need to read those sections to you. There is also a vast portion written on the ways of mindwielding that I will need to impart to Rennon. There is something else here, which could be important to you. This tome was handed to man by Fawlsbane Vex, the same god who created the gold and silver dragons. The lesser dragons were all created by the god twins Breannan and Xeian. This last passage tells of another book written by the golden dragon Myradon. It chronicles the story of the greater dragons’ creation and magic system. It’s called the Myradon Codex.” He looked at the tome closer and noticed the ink. “This passage looks to be written much later than the others.” He pointed to a looking glass on the table. “Hand me that magnifier.”

  Dorenn slid the looking glass to Veric. “Are you checking the handwriting?”

  “Aye.” Veric examined the writing. “It’s the same. Vex has revisited it lately. Possibly to give you a personal message since he came to you to find the tome in the first place. The passage reads: “Find the codex in Lux Amarou, guarded by my ancient people. I require this of you.”

  “Why didn’t he just tell me that when he appeared to me instead of taking the time to write it in a tome I can’t read?”

  “I don’t know. He is a god and we are not.” Veric closed the tome. “Perhaps he revisited the tome after he had already appeared to you. Who’s to say what a god has on his mind.”

  “Good point. I’m sure he had a reason.”

  “There is a lot here for you to learn, but I am not sure I will be here to teach you. My one quest is to find Sylvalora. If we can find her, then I will be at your disposal, but onl
y if we find her and rescue her.”

  “You’re going to have to help me with that; I know she chose me to find her, but I have no idea how to proceed.”

  “I will help you as best I can. Sylvalora’s ways tend to reveal themselves when they need to. I am certain you will know what to do when the time comes, even without my help.” He put his hand on the tome. “Dorenn, there is something else I find perplexing. Of all the elders you have traveled with, Ianthill couldn’t read the tome because he is an elf and Fawlsbane Vex is the god of man. He would not impart his language to anyone not of the ancient Amar. The same goes for Sanmir of Darovan. Sheyna will be able to read it once I pass the ability on to her, but Morgoran, he is more of an ancient Amar than I am. He can surely read the tome. Why does he deny this?”

  “Do you think he is another Drasmyd Duil infiltration?” Dorenn said.

  “No, he is not. For one, the smell is not there to give him away. He wears nothing to mask it.”

  “They solved that particular problem since the Drasmyd Duil of your time. They no longer have the odor. In fact, they are nearly perfect in every way to the original. They are extremely difficult to detect now.”

  “Well then, how do you explain he has knowledge a Drasmyd Duil would not.”

  “Again, they solved that issue, too. We need to find him. I may be able to tell with essence. I’ve done it before.” Dorenn picked up the tome and put it in his knapsack. “Do you remember where he was going?”

  Veric thought for a moment. “He and Shey were going to eat breakfast at the Tiger’s Head Inn.”

  Dorenn opened the door to the council chamber and almost ran headlong into Gondrial.

  “Where are you headed in such a hurry?” Gondrial asked.

  “To the Tiger’s Head Inn to see Morgoran.”

 

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