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Omensent: Princess Of Dragons (Book 5)

Page 9

by Barry Gibbons


  "And he plans to use it to stalk the goblins?" Delilah asked in surprise. "Isn't that dangerous?"

  "Everything is dangerous here in the mountains, but Damion knows what he's doing. This isn't the first time that he has dealt with goblins."

  "We should still be on our guard, though." Raven warned them seriously. "Goblins aren't the only creatures in these mountains that can be dangerous." She noticed both elves appeared nervous. "But don't worry. Damion will eliminate these creatures and be back before you know it."

  "What if he runs into a problem?" Delilah asked, her expression still worried. "How will we know if he needs help?"

  "If Damion runs into a problem, we'll know." Damarius assured her with a knowing smile. "In fact, the entire mountain range will probably know."

  **********

  Damion hurried through the shadows on silent paws with Snowfeather drifting quietly overhead guiding him towards the place that the huge owl had last saw the goblins. It wasn't long before he heard the creatures slowly making their way through the underbrush near the side of the road.

  He froze mid-step as one of the goblins suddenly stepped out onto the road and looked around, then he quickly retreated into the shadows as the second beast appeared, both appearing somewhat agitated.

  "Ugly beasts, aren't they?" Damion commented silently to Snowfeather, wrinkling his nose in displeasure as the goblins' odor began to overpower his sensitive nostrils.

  The goblins were both short, stocky creatures, standing approximately five feet tall, with grayish green skin, and course shaggy hair that covered their oddly shaped heads and backs. They had pig-like faces with large yellow tusks that protruded from jutting lower jaws, and tiny pale eyes that seemed completely devoid of any color. They were dressed in a sort of makeshift armor that appeared to have been pieced together from scraps of metal which had been salvaged and tied together with strips of leather, and they were armed with rusty swords which looked as though they had been scrounged from a junk heap.

  Damion watched as the two beasts quietly began to argue back and forth in a harsh grunting language that was punctuated by the occasional angry squeal.

  "They seem to be having a disagreement." Snowfeather observed, settling down on a nearby low hanging branch. "It's been a while since we've seen goblins skulking around the mountains. What do you think they're up to?"

  "Looking for an easy target, if I had to guess." Damion replied silently. "That's the only reason I can think of for them to be here. Most of them went underground once the dragons reemerged into the world. I think they feared that I would send the dragons after them in retaliation for them aiding Kaviel." He watched as the argument between the two beasts grew more heated. "It looks as though they can't decide on what their next move should be. One appears to want to press on, the other seems to want to go back."

  They watched as the two goblins continued to grunt and squeal at one for several more minutes, then nearly a dozen more goblins suddenly appeared from the underbrush, causing the first two goblins to immediately fall silent. One of the newcomers, a huge brute towering at least a foot taller than any of the other goblins, shoved his way in between them with an angry squeal.

  "That looks like their leader." Snowfeather chirped as the much larger goblin began to snarl and grunt at the pair in an angry tone.

  "I wonder what it's doing so far from its lair." Damion pondered. "Goblin chiefs rarely venture outside of their hideouts. They usually have their underlings do everything for them."

  They watched as the goblin chief continued to berate the two creatures, then it suddenly turned and led its clan back into the underbrush.

  "They appear to be heading back the way they came." The huge snow owl hooted, launching himself from his perch and drifting over the goblins on silent wings. "If you want to kill them, now would be the time."

  Damion thought it over for a moment. "It's not worth the effort." He decided finally, turning away, and starting back towards the camp. "As long as they keep their distance, I'm not too concerned. Besides, the dragonspawn will eventually take of them, if Slither's ever able to track them down."

  "I'll go make certain that they don't decide to double back, and then go hunting for my dinner." The huge snow owl volunteered. "I'll return to camp once I've found something suitable to eat."

  Damion quickly made his way back to the fortified clearing where they had set up camp, and then paused momentarily to shift back into his normal form. He had just started to step from the shadows and reveal himself to the others, when a woman's whispered voice caused him to pause once again.

  "Out for an evening stroll?"

  The huge warrior froze in place, his hand on the hilt of the Dragon Sword. "Who is there?" He growled in a deadly quiet voice. "Show yourself."

  "I am here, Dragon Lord." An elderly old woman, her face so wrinkled and weathered that it was impossible to discern her exact age, stepped from shadows and into the moonlight. Her hair was white, having lost all color many years before, and was fixed in a tight bun that she wore on one side of her head. She wore a hooded traveler's robe over a long dress that had been crafted from a soft satin, and trimmed in a soft silver fur. An unearthly aura of power seemed to surround the old woman, causing the hair on the back of the huge warrior's neck to stand on end, hinting to the fact that she wasn't just any ordinary old woman. "You're still just as jumpy as ever, I see."

  "Good evening, Gwynth." Damion allowed himself to relax. "It has been a while since you last paid us a visit. How is everything in the realm of the gods?"

  "Busy." The old woman murmured with a weary sigh. "The gods have returned to the disagreements and petty arguments that consumed them all before they withdrew from the world. I've been spending all of my time delivering insults and nasty messages back and forth for them." She shook her head in exasperation. "Gods are a lot like teenagers in that respect. They seem to enjoy spending their time dreaming up ways to get revenge on one another. It doesn't really surprise me, though. They have had a very long time to think up various barbs and insults while they were still bound by the Pact of the Gods, and now they finally get an opportunity to use them."

  Gwynth of the Gods was a legendary figure known throughout the world by a dozen different names. Chosen by the gods when they withdrew from the world to avoid its destruction, Gwynth had been granted the gift of immortality in exchange for acting as their emissary. Whenever the gods had a message or command that needed to be delivered to their followers, it was the elderly woman's responsibility to deliver it, thus allowing the gods to continue to communicate with their people without violating the Pact of the Gods. Though they were no longer bound by the pact from returning to their people, some few gods still preferred to distance themselves from the world, and continue to use the services of Gwynth to deliver their words.

  "Would you care to join us around the campfire?" Damion asked politely, preparing to lead the legendary old woman into the fortified encampment.

  "A moment first, if you will, Dragon Lord." Gwynth of the Gods requested respectfully. "I would speak with you before my presence is revealed to..." She paused, a small frown hovering about her lips. "certain others."

  "What is it?"

  "It has come to my attention that you intend to journey to the Elven Island to aid the elves in the war between the followers of Hetris and the followers of Petra, and I had hoped to bring you a warning."

  "Another warning?" The huge warrior asked with a sigh of resignation. "What does Estheryal wish to warn me of this time?"

  "This warning does not come from the Serpent Mother, or the Dragon God, nor any other deity." The old woman told him in a serious tone. "It comes from myself." She gently took his arm and led him away from the camp. "The followers of Hetris are dangerous creatures that are not to be taken lightly. Hetris is the God of Strife and Deception, and His followers are all well versed in those qualities. Virtually anyone that you encounter on the island can turn out to be a blood elf, but you should a
lso beware those who follow Petra, the Goddess of Fertility and Nature."

  "Why is that?" Damion frowned.

  "Petra is a warm, loving goddess, who is actually quite pleasant to converse with." Gwynth smiled. "She always tries to makes sure that everyone around Her is warm and well fed. She's a bit like a mother fussing over Her children. You two would get on quite well, I think." Her smile faltered. "Her children, however, are not so kind. In many ways, they can be just as ruthless and cold blooded as the followers of Hetris." She looked up at him gravely. "Unfortunately, unless they are stopped soon, the blood elves will surely overcome Petra's faithful and begin spreading throughout the lands, wreaking havoc wherever they go. It could be said that they are even more dangerous than the Etask."

  "How so?"

  "The Etazk make no pretense when it comes to achieving their goals." Gwynth explained. "Their motives are not hard to figure out. Blood elves, on the other hand, work their deviousness in concealment, never revealing their true intent until it is too late." She gripped his arm tightly. "You must make certain to be on your guard. Trust no one, especially those who attempt to befriend you. Elves are not known for being open and friendly, so it's safe to assume that any who are willing associate with you will probably have ulterior motives."

  "Thank you for your warning, Gwynth," Damion told her earnestly. "We shall be on our guard at all times."

  "That would be for the best. If the Dragon Sword were to somehow fall into their hands, the results would be disastrous."

  "Neither the blood elves, nor Petra's faithful, will never get their hands on the Dragon Sword as long as I still live." He promised, patting her hand gently. "Would you care to join us?" He asked politely, gesturing towards the camp. "Raven has prepared some stew for dinner, and I'm pretty sure that Shirk stashed a couple of wineskins in the supplies."

  "I'm afraid that I cannot." The old woman frowned regretfully. "I have to return to my responsibilities. I just wanted to bring you my warning in the hopes of preventing you falling victim to those with whom you placed your trust."

  "I truly appreciate it, my friend." Damion knelt down and embraced the elderly old woman, who smiled happily. "I hope that you can visit us again soon. Everyone has missed seeing you, especially little Leia."

  "Goodbye, Dragon Lord," Gwynth smiled again before vanishing into the darkness. "Remember to trust no one, no matter what. It may be the only thing that keeps you alive."

  Damion watched as the legendary old woman disappeared into the darkness as silently as she had appeared, then he made his way into the fortified clearing and stepped into the firelight, causing everyone to jump in surprise.

  "Damion!" Raven exclaimed in relief. "Is everything okay?"

  "Everything is fine, dear one." He reassured her as she hurried around the fire to embrace him. "The goblins returned the way they came. I don't think they'll be causing us anymore problems."

  "You didn't kill them?" Shirk asked in surprise.

  Damion shook his head. "There wasn't any real need for it. After arguing amongst themselves for a few minutes, they turned around and headed back the way they came. Killing them wouldn't have served any real purpose."

  "What if they start preying on the caravans traveling on the trade roads?"

  "Slither is already aware of their presence." Damion said as he took a seat near the fire. "I'm confident that he'll take care of them before they cause any problems. Besides, if I had attacked them, it may have alerted more of them to our presence." He glanced over to Damarius. "What was odd about the whole encounter was the appearance of the goblin clan chief. He stepped in and put an end to the arguing, and then led them all back into the forest."

  "That is unusual." The old wizard admitted with a frown. "Goblin chiefs rarely venture outside of their lairs. They have their clans take care of everything for them. They usually just sit around and grow fat." His brow furrowed in thought. "Perhaps they are looking for new grounds in which to settle."

  "They chose the wrong area then." Shirk snorted. "The dragonspawn detest goblins, and these mountains are absolutely teeming with the beasts. It won't be long before they force the goblins to move on elsewhere."

  "Snowfeather decided to follow the goblins to make sure that they do not double back and stumble across our camp." Damion informed them, accepting a steaming bowl of stew from Raven. "We shouldn't have any further problems from them."

  "Other than the goblins, did you discover anything else that should concern us?" Shirk asked curiously.

  Damion opened his mouth to tell them about his visitation from Gwynth, then quickly reconsidered, remembering the old woman's warning. "Not really, no." He said with a quick shake of his head. "Everything appears to be quiet."

  "Good." The bearded bandit grumbled sourly. "Having goblins running around the area is bad enough. We don't need anything else slowing us down."

  They reached the port city of Sierra three days later after encountering no further problems along the road leading north.

  "It looks like Fedrio has been keeping his people hard at work rebuilding the city." Damion noted in approval as they rode into town. "The last time we were here, they were still cleaning up the mess left behind after the Etask fled."

  "They've had several years to repair the damage." Damarius pointed out reasonably. "A good work crew can get quite a bit done in that amount of time, especially if they have a few dwarves among them, and the dwarven king left a fair number of workers behind to aid in the city's reconstruction."

  "It looks as though Fedrio took his ideas of redesigning the city quite seriously." Raven commented, looking around at the neatly swept cobblestone streets in approval. "Traveling through the city should be much easier now."

  Before the city had been destroyed during the Battle of Sierra, the roads leading through the port city were narrow and crooked, making it difficult to travel through the seemingly endless stream of caravans which would clog the streets for miles. But since most of the city had been leveled to provide materials for the construction of the harbor defenses in preparation for the Etazk invasion, the survivors of the battle had been forced to completely rebuild, allowing them to redesign everything to be far more functional for a thriving port city. Now the streets were wide and arrow straight, allowing caravans to move freely throughout the city without impeding the locals as they moved about their daily lives.

  "I'm glad you approve." Damarius told Raven with an air of smugness. "I helped Fedrio design the new layout of Sierra. Straightening and widening the roads was one of our first priorities, along with repairing the battlements atop the harbor walls."

  "Don't let that old blowhard take all of the credit for designing the city." A dangerously thin man called to the companions as he oversaw a group of laborers who were unloading a wagon full of heavy stone blocks.

  "Fedrio!" Damion slipped down from his saddle and hurried over to greet his friend. "We've missed you! It's been some time since you last paid us a visit."

  "Who has the time?" The emaciated looking man shrugged helplessly. "Ever since I was made Lord of Sierra, my every waking moment has been consumed with rebuilding the city."

  "I have to say that it is coming along quite splendidly." Raven complimented him politely. "It's a far cry from the dirty harbor city that I remember before the Etazk arrived."

  "I see that you took my advice and used granite for all the buildings." Damarius noted with an approving expression. "It certainly gives the city a more respectable feel. Much better than the hovels that once stood here."

  "What do you expect?" Fedrio laughed. "Sierra was originally a smuggler's settlement. The buildings had all been thrown together from coral and driftwood gathered along the beachfront. But I think we've rectified that mistake." The thin man gestured to one of the beautifully designed granite structures. "We still had quite a bit of granite left over after the repairs to the harbor battlements were complete, and it seemed foolish to allow it to all go to waste, so we decided to use it in th
e construction of the rest of the city."

  "How were you able to afford to pay all of the laborers?" Shirk asked curiously. "It nearly bankrupted Sevria to construct the battlements that surround the city."

  "The dwarves were quite helpful in that regard." The thin man explained. "They provided their assistance without asking anything in return. The rest was paid for by the treasures left behind when the former lords fled the city with their tails tucked between their legs. They left a large portion of their wealth behind in their haste to escape, which was more than enough to reestablish ourselves." He looked back to Damion. "So what brings you to Sierra, my friend? Here to discuss a new proposal with the Merchant's Guild?"

  "I'm afraid not. A matter of some urgency has come to our attention." Damion explained, careful not to reveal the fact that the elves had requested his aid, knowing that they would be embarrassed and insulted. "We are here in search of a ship."

  "You're in luck then." Fedrio laughed again. "We have an entire harbor full of ships to choose from. Now that the city is back up and running, caravans have been pouring in. I think that old pirate you're so fond of, Captain Harper, may even be in port. He usually stops here between runs because we don't charge him a dock fee as a way of thanking him for his assistance in defending the city."

  "Captain Harper's here?" Damion smiled. "It's been a while since I saw that old pirate. Does he still hang out at the inn by the docks?"

  "He owns it now." Fedrio grinned. "He took it over after the battle. It was one of the few remaining structures that survived. He has a number of people that run it for him while he's at sea, but if he's in port, that's where you'll find him."

  "Why am I not surprised?" Damion laughed.

  "You're not planning on hiring that madman again, are you?" Shirk asked, his face turning an odd shade of green. "He's completely out of his mind!"

  "Captain Harper isn't that bad." Raven defended their friend, who had helped them numerous times in the past. "He's a little eccentric, I'll grant you, but he knows these waters better than any other sailor alive, and is a good and honest man." She made a face. "Well, he's a good man, anyways."

 

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