Dark One Rising

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Dark One Rising Page 24

by Leandra Martin


  “Was there any activity in town today?”

  “Plenty, but not the kind you’re alluding to. The market square was very lively and crowded today, but I saw nothing to cause concern. I have Gardan keeping an open eye and his ear to the ground. If he sees or hears anything, he’ll send word. Is there news you have that says otherwise?”

  “It may be nothing. I was sent word from Brogan’s party. They were forced to divert into the woods at the base of the mountains. It seems that the giants are on the move.”

  “What? This far east? For what reason?”

  “I don’t know. Brogan says that they were in a large group, possibly upwards to fifty, but they didn’t seem to be on a blood trail.”

  “Does he have any theories on where they were going?”

  “No. They stayed behind until the way was clear, but from what they could tell from the trail, the giants turned toward the coast.”

  “Peculiar indeed. Has the party reached Yarden yet?”

  “They were about a day or two out maybe. I would assume that they have gotten fairly close by now. This time of year there’s not too much snow, but the trek is still daunting. I’m sure we’ll get word soon. I’m going to go out again tonight. I think I need to see for myself if anything is amiss in the towns closer to the border. If Fallon is starting, that’s where he’ll begin his enlistment of men.”

  “Alright, but please be careful my friend. I don’t want you getting in the middle of something you can’t handle all by yourself. Be stealthy and wary. Have dinner first, rest for a bit, then head out. You are your best in the dark anyway.”

  Alek followed Dain up to his rooms and sat down in the chair by the fireplace. The hearth looked like it had just been lit recently. He tossed one leg over the other. Dain removed his boots, still rather damp, and tossed his wet doublet and hosen on the bed. He put on a dry cream colored brocaded long coat, maroon hosen, and chose another, drier pair of boots. He sat down in the other chair to put them on.

  “What really happened out there today?”

  He paused from pulling on the second boot and eyed his friend. “You worry too much, Alek.”

  “And of course you never give me any reason to.”

  He sighed. “I am well aware of my past indiscretions, but today was simply a nice jaunt into town. She really is a fascinating girl.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her fervor for the everyday, the way her face lights up when she sees something that pleases her eye, or when she smells something tantalizing. The way she moves when she hears a lively tune. She has more passion for life in her little finger than I have in my entire being. I can’t remember when I ever felt passion for anything in this life, or if I ever did at all. Watching her tires me, but yet I can’t stop. She has the intellect and body of a grown woman, but the heart and soul of a child.”

  Alek looked at his king for a moment in wonder. He had never heard him talk like this about anyone, much less a woman, and it confused him. He had known the man that sat across from him almost his entire life, but was seeing him differently for the first time. He was pleased.

  “Well, I don’t know what to say.”

  “There are no words needed. I enjoyed myself today. Enough said.”

  “I’m glad. I’ll have the kitchen staff get dinner out if you’re ready.”

  “Yes, I’m hungry. Send someone up to make sure Melenthia is ready as well. I don’t want to start dinner without her.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  He stood to leave but turned back. “I will travel through and see what might be amiss, but until I get word from Kevaan about Fallon’s next move, there’s nothing to do but wait. I don’t like to be caught off guard with anything. I will poke around in the hornets nest and see what comes out.”

  “Just don’t get stung, my friend.”

  He nodded and left Dain alone to contemplate his day.

  It was true that she was a mystery to him, but what amazed him more was her exuberance about life and what joys it held if only you took the time to look around. She was beautiful and intelligent in the ways of the world, but she was able to let go of those things and see everything in a different light. The ways of the world could be put on hold by an afternoon of good smells and good company. He was pleased that she enjoyed her day. He had been afraid that she might feel uncomfortable spending the day with a stranger, in a place she was not familiar with. But instead, she used the opportunity to make an adventure out of it, and she did it with such conviction, that she pulled him in as well without his knowing it.

  He had gotten enjoyment from listening to her speak and watching her move, the day just slipping by. He suddenly remembered the necklace he had purchased for her and hoped that in the escapade in the creek, it hadn’t slipped out and gotten lost. He picked up his wet doublet from off the bed and reached into the inner pocket. It was still there. He pulled it out and held it up to look at it closer. In the muted candlelight of the room, the ruby was not as brilliant as it had been in the sun, but he knew that when she wore it, it would bring out the golden highlights of her hair and match her emerald green eyes perfectly. He wondered why it had had such an effect on her and promised himself that he would ask her someday about it.

  He would give it to her another night, after Alek was gone. He didn’t want Alek to know about it. He could sense him watching from the corner of his eye, wondering he would bet, if Dain was going to go back on his word and try to seduce Melenthia into his bed. Or rather, when. But he made a promise and intended to keep it. This was simply a token he wanted to give her because it brought her such joy. But Alek would never see it like that. He would question his motive, so it was best if he waited until Alek was not in the castle at the time.

  She was an exotic beauty, there was no question, and in his past he would have tried already to get her into his bed, but there was something stopping him. Maybe he was more mindful of what his actions might do to cause her grief, or maybe, it was all foreplay, and he was enjoying the dance too much to ruin it. Or could it be, what he really felt was attraction, and going slow to learn as much about her as he could appealed more to his newer, more respectful self? The thought intrigued him. He had made a promise to himself after Annika that he would find someone special, someone he could actually care about, but never in his wildest dreams did he think he would stick to that promise, or that there would ever be someone he could keep it for. He was a player, and the more maidens he could get to succumb to his wiles, the better. She was different though, and that made keeping the promise easier. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say that thoughts about her and him tangled up in the sheets had not crossed his mind a time or two. And he would not deny that he caught himself looking her over and daydreaming about what she looked like underneath all those layers, or what it would feel like to touch her soft creamy white skin. But acting on those fantasies was another thing entirely. He would not offend her, or do anything to make her angry, or Alek for that matter. Alek had spent so many years trying to keep his soul intact, he owed him at least that much. He exhaled a breath, feeling a heat starting to rise through him. He promised he would not act on the thoughts that occupied his mind any time she was in the room, but doing so was going to be the hardest task he’s ever had. He was used to throwing caution to the wind and taking whatever it is he wanted. But that was the old king; this was the new. Someday he hoped he’d thank himself for having a resolve of steel. He put the necklace into his chest at the end of the bed for another night, and went downstairs to dinner.

  CHAPTER 19

  Brogan and his party reached the dwarves village in the Danstroms two hours before sunset. The clouds were threatening rain with an electric feeling in the air that bode a big storm coming their way. Getting inside soon was imperative.

  The party reached the entrance into the dwarves village of Yardan and were stopped by two guards, one on either side of the gate. One of the guards stepped forward. He was common height for a dwarf
, which usually ranged from four feet ten to five foot two. His russet hair was long and braided down his back, a matching colored beard reached his chest. He carried a war axe, and his hands were large and rough. He did not smile but did not appear hostile; dwarves generally had a rugged appearance and rough countenance anyway. Most of the clans spent time underground mining the elements inside the mountains of the Danstroms; the others were ranchers and farmers.

  When he reached Brogan’s side, the dwarf squinted up at him, his beady brown eyes questioning. “Who are ya’ and what are ya doin’ this far up the mountain pass?” His voice was deep and gravelly, which matched the rest of his appearance. His accent and mastery of the basic language was broken at best. This dwarf, neither miner nor farmer, had probably been picked for guard duty for a reason. Brogan wasn’t looking for hostility, so he answered plainly. “We wish to see Dagon.”

  “Do he know yous was comin’?”

  “No. We come on a matter of grave importance. We come on behalf of the king.”

  The dwarf looked back over his shoulder to his counterpart, then smiled up at Brogan. “You don’t look much like king’s soldiers to me.”

  “We’re not soldiers for the king. We’re messengers for the king. We’ve been asked to bring Dagon a message and seek assistance?”

  “Assistance for what?”

  “That is for Dagon only.”

  “Then what message? You give to me, I’ll see Dagon gets it.”

  Brogan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but I was told to give it directly to Dagon himself. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. That trip up the mountain pass is not exactly a trip through the tulips, friend, so if you’d go inform Dagon we’re here, we can get on with it.”

  The dwarf eyed him warily then rubbed a callused hand over his bearded chin. “Since I see no colors for His Majesty, how do I know you is who you say you is?”

  Brogan reached into his bag and pulled out a rolled up parchment tied with ribbon and bearing the wax seal of the Royal House of Grayson. He showed it to the guard and said, “I have a message of urgent nature for Dagon, Clan Chief of the Dolmath Tribe, from King Dainard Llewelyn Grayson, High Ruler of Azlyn.” He showed the seal to the guard who eyed it, then looked back up to Brogan and said nothing. Brogan sighed. “Very well. King Dainard told me if I came across a stubborn oaf, then I was to give you a message to carry to Dagon so that he would know we are who we say we are and that we have come on his behalf.”

  “Okay, what be the message?”

  “Dagon still owes His Majesty seven silver pieces from the little problem he helped with six years ago. Now he’d be most willing to forget about it, but if we’re not allowed in to speak with Dagon, he’ll have to come up here himself and collect, and he gets extremely cranky when he has to travel. And when kings get cranky, people tend to lose their heads.” Brogan was smiling down at the dwarf, and a couple of the men in the group laughed. He didn’t mean it of course. Dain would never have Dagon killed because he refused to ally himself with him, but the guard didn’t know that.

  It took a few more minutes for the guard to respond, but then he cleared his throat and said, “Wait here.”

  He disappeared inside the gate, through the Petit-Porte on the left, and Brogan and his men were left to wait. The other guard had not moved or spoke, and he still did nothing to make conversation while his partner was gone. The wind was picking up, and Brogan could smell rain in the distance. He was eager to get inside the safety of the city.

  A few minutes passed, then the echoing sound of wooden pulleys rang through the mountain pass, and the gates finally started to open. The guard who had left appeared again and motioned the party inside. He led them across an open courtyard to an archway built into the mountain itself.

  “You’ll be required to dismount now. The horses be too tall with rider for ye to enter safely. There will be some lads to take yer mounts and get ‘em watered and fed. They will bring your belongin’s to the rooms you will be usin’ for the duration of your stay.”

  Brogan nodded and dismounted. The other men followed suit. When they were all down, the guard led them under the archway and into the mountain. It took Brogan a long time to adjust his eyes to the gloom. Unlike the dwarves, he was unaccustomed to spending time in the dark. Dwarves had eyes like cats, able to see in the dark tunnels of the mines, and at great distance, but Brogan preferred the sunlight. The dank tunnels and musty smell of the mountain caves made him shiver. There were sconces on the walls every few footsteps that illuminated the halls just enough to be able to walk steadily and see the ground before you, but it was still too dark for Brogan’s taste, and a bit eerie. There were also stories of nasty creatures who lived inside the darkest hidden reaches of the tunnels, creatures that ate the flesh of the dead. Brogan shivered at the thought.

  They walked a way down the hall, deeper into the mountain he would guess, before the guard stopped before a door. It was a large wooden double door, at least eight foot in height, and it was carved with a beautiful landscape scene. Brogan took the few moments he had before the door opened to study the artistry of the work. It was a depiction of a mountain range, with a wide valley between the peaks. There was a stream flowing down the mountain through the valley which ended up in a meadow lake. There were trees and flowers and even a few birds and butterflies scattered throughout the rendition. It was most impressive, as well as the massive door it was carved into.

  The doors opened. Brogan turned to the men. “Bort is with me, the rest of you should stay out here, I think, until we know if all is well.”

  The men nodded and stood outside in the hallway as Brogan and Bort followed the guard into the room, the doors closing behind them. This room was no less impressive than the door had been, but it was much brighter than the corridor was. Brogan blinked a few times to readjust his eyes to the light. It was an enormous cavern, with tall wooden beams holding the ceiling and carved wooden pillars going from the floor all the way to the roof. The floor was marbled, the walls paneled in a rich smelling wood. It was quite a difference from the natural tunnel that led them here. There were marble statues throughout the room, making a semi-circle around a dais at the front of the room. The statues were past clan leaders of the most powerful of the dwarf families. The statues were not large by man’s standards, about seven foot each, but, to a normal size dwarf, they were immense.

  The guard led them to the front of the room, where another dwarf sat. He was slightly taller than most, with dark brownish red hair and matching beard. His hair was loose down his back, and his clothes were fancier. He had on black pants, but his shirt was under a lavish red velvet vest with emeralds lining the v-neck. The buttons were black onyx, and his shiny boots gleamed in the bright light of the cavernous room. He was smiling at them as they neared, and he quickly dismissed the guard. He sat upon a chair with furs covering it, and his hands were resting on the arms of it.

  Brogan bowed to him, then prostrated himself on one knee, Bort following. They remained on their knees, a sign of respect for the clan’s highest honored leader, until he told them to rise.

  They stood and waited for Dagon to speak. The silence in the large room seemed more ominous. “Welcome to Yarden, gentlemen, home of the Daiki tribes. It seems the king has a long and vivid memory. I would’ve hated for him to have to leave the warm halls of the Keep to travel a road such it is to reach us just to settle a debt.”

  Brogan smiled. “I’m glad you felt that way. I wasn’t looking forward to returning to him with nothing to say, except that an overprotective guard scared us away. Make me look bad, make him slightly put out.”

  Dagon laughed deep. “Whom has His Majesty trusted with this important travel?”

  “I’m Brogan Knoll; this is my well appointed guide, Bort Waldron.”

  “I’m happy to meet you both. You must excuse Borga; he’s not much in the way of wit, but he’s a strong warrior and keeps our gates protected better than anyone before him.”


  “Why the extra precautions, Dagon? Not many have traveled this high into the Danstrom’s passes. What is it you’re anxious about?”

  “We used to have safer borders, but lately… there are strange things about. The higher passes are still lightly traveled, but the Zairn Pass itself has been a hive of activity of late. The miners in the lower passages have been witnessing disturbing things. Dark things seem to be making their way freely between realms, and they use the Pass for quicker movement.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “I have no name for them. I was hoping you could tell me.”

  “That is partly why we have come, Dagon. There is news all the way from Ashlan to the northern cities near the border, of troops coming through and recruiting men into their ranks. Fallon has grown more powerful in the last few years, and the king feels he is preparing a strike. He has already manipulated King Randor into relinquishing control of his accounts to him and his financial advisors. He’s been using the money to fund an army of mercenaries to destroy any that oppose him. He has also paid the giants, and they’ve joined him as well. They’re moving this way.”

  Dagon rubbed his chin. “I did hear a couple of accounts of groups of giants moving through the pass. I can’t believe Fallon would try to infiltrate the province right under Randor’s nose.”

  “Prince Kevaan is aware of the hold Fallon has on his father. Fallon has a creature called a wraith, and he controls Randor’s decisions. Kevaan cannot stop the influence he has, but he has been able to stave off the creature from controlling him. King Dainard has asked us to come to you for help. If Fallon plans what he suspects, then no one will be safe from his control. He wants a throne for himself. Aaralyn is first. Azlyn will be next. The provinces will need the help of all the troops they can enlist in order to fight against Fallon and hope to vanquish him.”

 

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