The man stared at Damion for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he slowly stepped aside to let them pass. "Then you'll want to hurry along if you hope to catch them. They passed through here just before dawn. They're well into the interior of the city by now."
"You're not going to try and detain us?" Sly asked in surprise.
The stern looking man scowled. "I do not take orders from heathen witches, nor the spirits that they serve." He drew himself up proudly. "My god is Triton, God of War. I care not what some brain sick witch has to say." He gestured for them to move along. "Go and save your daughter, but be cautious. Not all Teirsians share my dislike of highland witches."
"You have our thanks, friend." Damion told him in genuine gratitude. "Do you happen to have any idea in which direction the witch may have taken?"
"She didn't say, but I have the feeling they were heading towards the north gate."
"Thank again, friend."
"No thanks is needed." The sour faced old man replied with a dismissing wave. "Just do the world a favor and wipe that witch from the face of this world. Her kind are nothing but a blight upon our land, and our proud people."
"We will do our utmost to make sure her life is as short as possible."
"Good man!" The grey haired man barked approvingly. "Now, quit wasting time, and get moving!"
With one last nod, Damion led the others through the heavy gates and into the sprawling city of Teir.
"Well, that was certainly unexpected." Sly commented as they trotted away. "I expected a hundred Teirsians to come rushing forward to try to stop us."
"Not all Teirsians are superstitious when it comes to highland witches." Damarius explained in a scholarly tone. "Many look upon them as outcasts, and won't have any dealings with them at all."
They pressed on, using Storm's massive size to carve a path through the crowded streets.
As was common, many of the merchants and locals they passed stopped to stare at Damion with wide fearful eyes. He did his best to ignore the stares as they pushed on through the crowd, although Storm, sensing his master's displeasure, began to grow more and more foul tempered. The huge warhorse finally expressed his displeasure by grabbing an unfortunate merchant who wandered too close by the back of his tunic using his teeth, then tossing him unceremoniously aside, sending the poor man crashing into a group of Teirsian soldiers who were standing nearby.
"Was that really necessary?" Damion asked the hulking brute in exasperation.
Storm merely ignored him, and continued searching the crowd around them for another victim.
"It's getting a little late." Jacom pointed out, glancing back at the Teirsian soldiers, who were still trying to untangle themselves from the dazed merchant. "Perhaps we should find somewhere suitable to stop for the night."
"Teir can be a very dangerous place once the sun has fallen." Jarom added, watching in amusement as Storm continued to look about for his next victim. "Even with all of the soldiers, thieves and cutthroats abound here."
"We should really press on." Damion disagreed with a frown. "I don't want to lose what ground we've managed to gain."
"Besides," Sly snorted in amusement. "we can just turn Storm loose on anyone who crosses us, then sit back and enjoy the show. An entire army of thieves wouldn't stand a chance against that beast."
As if on cue, the huge stallion trotted two steps sideways and slammed his hip into another passerby, sending them crashing hard to the ground.
The man leapt to his feet, red faced and angry, but quickly grew pale when he laid eyes upon the enormous warrior mounted upon the even larger warhorse. He gulped audibly, then quickly hurried away, his eyes wide with fear.
Damion couldn't help but chuckle. "You big bully." He murmured to the prancing warhorse, who nickered happily, then returned to looking for victims.
It was well after midnight, and the crowd in the streets had finally thinned, when they had their first encounter with bandits. Twenty men wearing dark hooded cloaks suddenly came pouring out from a dark alleyway brandishing a variety of weapons, trying to catch them unaware.
Damion reacted with the instinct of a veteran, instantly whipping the Dragon Sword from its sheath as he spurred Storm forward. They crashed into the first several men without slowing, and the snap and crunch of bone was clearly audibly as the huge warhorse's hooves stomped down with brutal force.
The Dragon Sword whistled as it sliced through the air, removing one bandit's head, and sending it bouncing back at the man's comrades, who hesitated, stunned by the huge warrior's reaction.
The twins let out identical roars as they spurred their horses forward, joining in the fray with an almost animalistic glee.
Sly sent a dagger whistling through the air, where it lodged deep in one bandit's throat, then charged into the chaos, his sword held aloft, while Raven began to rain arrows down upon the stunned bandits with deadly accuracy.
Damarius sent a bolt of energy sizzling from the tip of his staff, striking one of the hooded men's hastily upraised shields. The bolt of energy exploded, sending the man hurling back into the shadows from which he had emerged.
In mere seconds, over half of the attackers lay dead or dying at their feet, and the few that remained dropped their weapons and fled back down the alleyway, leaving their dead and dying behind.
"That was fun." Sly commented, watching the survivors as they fled. "I think it'll be a while before they try that again."
"Those who survived anyway." Damarius grunted, surveying the destruction with satisfaction.
"It would be best if we moved on." Jarom advised, looking around for any sign of Teirsian soldiers. "It wouldn't be good for us to be found in the vicinity of so many dead bodies."
"The Teirsians take a dim view of any fighting within their city," Jacom added quietly. "outside of the arena, that is."
They quickly moved on up the street, leaving the dead thieves and cutthroats where they lay.
Damion glanced over to his young wife, who looked exhausted from the battle, and finally decided to find someplace suitable to rest for the night.
They settled on a humble looking inn located on one of the numerous side streets that crisscrossed the city, then wearily checked their horses at a nearby livery and made their way into the nearly empty common room.
A thin, oily haired Teirsian wearing a stained cloth apron hurried up to them, a look of displeasure on his face. "I'm sorry," He started in a nasally voice, staring up at Damion with distaste. "but there is no room for you here." He sneered at the huge warrior, not even attempting to hide his contempt.
Damion stared down at the man in annoyance. He started to speak, but was cut off by Sly, who quickly stepped forward with an weary look on his face. He walked up and murmured something quietly to the oily looking innkeeper, who suddenly gulped and took an involuntary step backward, the color draining from his face.
"M-My apologies, m-milord," The man suddenly stammered, looking to Damion with frightened eyes. "Of c-course I'll find rooms for you and your companions." He gestured to a table in the common room near the large fireplace. "P-Please, sit and relax while I h-have my serving girls bring you food and drink, and prepare your rooms, o-on the house, of course." He hurried away, a terrified look in his eyes.
"What did you whisper to him?" Damion asked curiously, watching as the man disappeared into the kitchen area.
"I just told him the truth." Sly shrugged, stumping over to the table and dropping into a chair with a tired groan. "I told him that he was speaking to the Dragon Lord, and was one insult away from being turned into a radish."
Everyone laughed at that.
They left early the following morning after a huge breakfast of thick ham steaks, fresh bread, and fruit. The oily innkeeper was nearly tripping over himself in an effort to make sure that Damion and the others had everything that they desired.
Sly, of course, took outrageous advantage of this, requesting the cringing innkeeper to provide them with fr
esh supplies, not to mention several wineskins of the finest elven wine.
By the time they were finally packed and ready to set off, the streets were already packed with people and caravans. Once again, Damion and Storm took the lead, using their intimidating size to part the sea of people, making it much easier for the others to follow along behind.
It was almost noon when the Damion finally called for them to stop near a fountain in the center of a huge square. "This is impossible!" He snarled in exasperation, staring at the flow of caravans in disgust. "We could walk right past Leia and the witch without ever even knowing it!"
"It would be fairly easy for us to miss them in this crowd." Damarius agreed, brushing the brow lock from his eyes absently. "They could easily get themselves lost in this chaos."
"Is there any way we can convince the Teirsians to help us?" Raven asked, scanning the crowd with a hopeless look in her eyes.
"The only person in Teir with such authority would be their king, Mika the Cruel," Jacom told her grimly.
"And we seriously doubt if he will be very accommodating to our request." Jarom finished in the same grave tone.
"How far is it until we reach the city arena?" Damion asked, his mind working quickly.
"At least two more days." Jarom informed him with a sigh.
"If we can push our way through this crowd, that is." Jacom added with an identical sigh.
"What did you have in mind?" Sly asked, staring at him suspiciously.
Damion ignored him, and stared out over the crowd with a grim look.
"I know that expression, Damion," The little man warned him. "You always get that look right before you do something completely insane."
"What are you thinking?" Raven asked him, her expression apprehensive.
Damion stared out over the crowd for several more moments, then he turned to look at the others, his expression one of regretful determination. "We could search this city for weeks without ever finding Leia or the witch. We need help if we're going to find them in this chaos."
"Help from who?" Damarius asked in confusion. "Even if we were foolish enough to ask, you heard the twins, the Teirsian king wouldn't lift a finger to help us."
Damion was quiet a moment, then he looked to the twins questioningly. "You said that anyone could be challenged in the arena, correct?"
Sly stared at him with a stupefied expression for several long seconds. "You're not seriously going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?"
Damion shrugged. "I don't really see any other way. We need to be absolutely sure that Leia and the witch are not hiding somewhere here in the city before we continue on into the highlands."
"What am I missing?" Damarius asked in a baffled voice.
"Damion's planning on marching into the arena and challenging the king in combat." Sly groaned helplessly.
"Are you mad?" The twins exclaimed in unison. "You're planning on challenging the king of the Teirsians to a battle?"
"Do any of you have a better idea?" The huge warrior asked them in exasperation. "We don't have the time to spend weeks searching the city, not without chancing the witch escaping with Leia into the highlands. We need the Teirsians to help if we hope to have any chance of succeeding."
They stared back at him helplessly.
"Will the king accept a challenge from an outsider?" Raven asked the twins.
"He is a warrior-king." Jacom told him with a nod. "If he was to refuse a battle, his own people would immediately kill him. Only the strongest warrior may lead the Teirsians."
"If you were to challenge the king, he'll fight you." Jarom confirmed. "He won't have any other choice."
Damion stared at them grimly for several long moments, then straightened his shoulders and sighed. "Let's get moving, then. We don't want to keep his majesty waiting."
Chapter 17
"I need to feed again." She murmured to Boris in a weak voice, stumbling over to her cot to lay down. "Communing with the elder spirits has drained my strength."
It had been days since she had been able rest for more than a couple of hours. The Dragon Lord had somehow managed to close the gap between them, and was still hot on their trail.
When they finally made it to the safety of the city, it had been fairly easy to melt into the populace, and find a remote location to stop and rest. She knew the Dragon Lord was still on her trail, unwilling to give up the search for his only child, but the elder spirits assured her that she could rest for a time without fear of discovery.
The huge bald man slowly rose from his seat near the door of the tiny room they had rented in a small rundown inn, not far from the colossal coliseum-like palace. "Shall I go find a suitable sacrifice, Mistress?"
"Find me two." She hissed in a weak voice. "It's taking more and more energy to replenish myself each time I delve into the netherworld." She drew a deep weary breath. "The elder spirits advised me to remain hidden here to help throw the Dragon Lord off our trail. They cannot be sure that it will work, so be careful not to draw any unwanted attention, and make sure that those you chose will not missed."
"As you wish, Mistress."
She watched as the huge man lumbered out of the room, then glanced over to the young girl, who sat staring back at her with a fearless gaze.
All of this trouble for a simple child. She still didn't understand what a god would want with the filthy little beast. It had been nothing but a nuisance from the second she had taken it from its crib back at the Serpent's Keep. It had taken all her patience to make it this far with the wailing little creature, but now her goal was finally within her reach, and she was going to do everything possible to fulfill her promise to the elder spirits, no matter what the cost.
She glanced back down at the child, who continued to stare at her with hate filled eyes. "What are you staring at?" She finally snarled, unable to endure the girl's unflinching gaze.
"My daddy is going to kill you." The child growled at her in a voice that chilled the young witch's blood. Those were the first words the girl had spoken since their ordeal began.
She stared down at the child, her palms suddenly sweaty. "Your father cannot harm me." She declared in an uncertain tone. "The elder spirits protect me."
The girl ignored her, and instead turned and went to settle down by the tiny window which overlooked the alley below.
She stared at the child for several long moments, a trickle of fear running down her spine. The Dragon Lord had thwarted every attempt to kill him. Even the shadow warriors, some of the most fearsome creatures of the netherworld, had been unable to stop him. She had to wonder if the elder spirits actually could protect her from his wrath.
She laid her head back on the cot, her mind a whirlwind of uncertainty.
Boris returned an hour or so later accompanied by two young women. "This is my mistress," He told them, gesturing to the young woman, who still lay in on the cot. "You will see to her needs while the child and I are gone." He walked over and scooped the child into his arms, and with one last glance, left the unsuspecting women to their fates.
************
"By the gods!" Sly exclaimed, staring at the arena-like palace in astonishment. "The place is so big, it's obnoxious!"
"That's the arena for you," Jarom agreed, staring up at the massive complex in contempt. "I think it's a reflection of the Teirsian character."
"They are an obnoxious race," Jacom nodded, a look of disdain in his eyes. "and their architecture seems to reflect their personality perfectly."
"How are we going to gain entry?" Raven asked, noticing the crowd of Teirsian soldiers posted outside of every entrance. "There are soldiers everywhere!"
"Leave that to us." The twins replied in unison. They nudged their horses forward and led the companions towards one of the large entrances leading inside the arena.
"Halt!" One of the soldiers shouted as they approached, hurrying forward to block their passage, a dozen heavily armored men at his back. "This entrance is for combatants o
nly. If you wish to watch the battles, you must go to one of the audience entrances."
"We are escorting a new combatant to the arena." Jacom stated haughtily.
"Our lord has come to issue a challenge." Jarom stated proudly.
"Oh really?" The soldier sounded interested. "And who does he plan do challenge? Some nobleman, or a servant who displeased him?"
The twins' faces fell flat.
"Our lord," Jacom growled, gesturing grandly towards Damion, who drew himself up to his full height. "plans to challenge Mika the Cruel, King of the Teirsians."
Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God Page 28