Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3)

by Mark Tyson

  “Oh joy. My friends have run into those abominations before.”

  “Aye, I heard about your friends foray into Signal Hill.

  A low moan emanated from the darkness in the corridor ahead. Both Sanmir and Trendan instantly started communicating with hand signals; Sanmir motioning for them to investigate the noise. Trendan nodded. They stalked silently down the corridor as the sound of the moaning increased in loudness. To Trendan’s ears, it sounded masculine. He was worried it might not be Kimala.

  They followed the sound until they came to a dark cell. Trendan recognized the thin, feminine arms held in shackles and raised above her head, which was still obscured in darkness. It was Kimala.

  Sanmir rushed to her, and Trendan was not far behind. “Here, grab her by the waist and hold her up so I can get some slack on those shackles,” Sanmir instructed. Trendan complied.

  Sanmir tried to pick the locks for several moments but failed.

  “Metal is earthen; can’t you just command them to twist off or something?”

  “Not without twisting her hands off too. Metal is difficult to break and easy to twist.” He stopped out of frustration before leaning in to whisper in Kimala’s ear. “Forgive me for this, dear lady.”

  “No,” Kimala said weakly, but Sanmir was already whispering magic commands. Tongues of fire began leaping from his fingertips and connecting with the metal of the shackles. After a few moments, they were red hot. Flesh burned and sizzled, causing a sickly, putrid smell. Kimala whimpered, too weak to cry out. Sanmir reached up and pulled the metal apart like taffy candy. As soon as he had Kimala to the floor, he scraped up the dirt and dust, covered her burned hands, and began his whispering again. The dirt transmuted into a yellow salve. Kimala was still moaning from the pain, but Trendan could tell by her feeble gasps she had little need to continue.

  “Naneden will know,” she whispered.

  “Naneden will know what?” Trendan asked.

  “Naneden will know someone is touching his woman.”

  “Pay no attention. She is delirious,” Sanmir said.

  Naneden abruptly appeared from the darkness. “I will have you both executed!”

  Without hesitation, Sanmir grabbed ahold of both Trendan’s and Kimala’s arms with each of his hands, and they all three passed through the stone floor as if they fell through water. All three fell into the cell directly below the one in which they found Kimala. Trendan examined the iron grate. “This cell is locked. We are trapped in here.”

  Sanmir looked at him as if he were a begging village idiot. “Come back here.”

  “He wasn’t real,” Kimala tried to say, but it came out in hesitations. “It was an illusion of Naneden. I don’t have control.”

  “Sshhh, Kimala, don’t speak.”

  Trendan shook his head. “Sorry, Sanmir. I don’t think I will ever get used to magic. It just felt like we fell through a pool of water. I didn’t even think.”

  “Will you listen to me?” Kimala rasped.

  “Aye, my lady, I hear you, but I am more concerned about getting out of here than some illusion of Naneden.” Sanmir held her hands reassuringly. “This time, the trip will be a bit longer, so hold your breath.” He picked up Kimala into his arms. “All right, Trendan, grab ahold of my arm, and whatever you do, don’t let go, or you will be stuck permanently in stone forever. I will be moving at a good pace. Walk with me and don’t trip or again, you will be lost.” Trendan nodded and drew a deep breath. “And close your eyes. Short trips won’t hurt them, but longer stone walks can blind you.” A moment later, the three of them disappeared into the stone wall.

  Trendan felt like he was trying to walk through dense water. He resisted opening his eyes and just trusted Sanmir to lead them through. Occasionally he could feel a harder pull on his shoulder or leg, and he surmised it was due to walking through denser stone. He was relieved when they finally emerged into one of the upper corridors of the dungeon.

  Sanmir propped Kimala up against the corridor wall. “Are you all right?” he asked Trendan, who was breathing heavily.

  “Not exactly a normal way for man to travel, is it?” Trendan said.

  “I wouldn’t know. I have been doing it all my life. It seems perfectly natural to me.”

  “I thought we would be outside. You just took us up higher in the dungeon.”

  “Neither you nor Kimala would survive a walk that far. I had to get us somewhere where the walls are closer to the outside to rest a moment.” He took Kimala’s weak head in his hands and began to recite his spell. The entire time he was speaking, his hands were glowing a soft white light. “There, that should revitalize you a bit.”

  Kimala, now a little more active and alert, grabbed ahold of Sanmir’s arm. “I have been trying to tell you. Naneden will ambush you as soon as you appear outside the walls. What you saw before was just an illusion. He put his image within me to discourage people from coming near me. I can’t control it. I will give us away!” She passed out.

  “Is she delirious?” Trendan asked.

  “Aye, she is bonkers,” he said. “She is speaking about illusions and such. Don’t worry, I think I can carry her through the next wall.”

  Kimala slipped back into consciousness. “I am not bonkers,” she slurred. “I heard that. I will cast a spell to rot out that tongue of yours.”

  Sanmir let out his breath as he gathered his thoughts. “Be that as it may, we still have to escape the dungeon. You can rot out my tongue later. Please, just try to hold on. I will have us out of here in a moment.”

  Trendan took a deep breath as Sanmir took them through another wall. He felt as though the rock was pulling at his skin. But as uncomfortable as it was, Trendan knew that Sanmir’s way of exiting the dungeon was the best way. After the last walk through stone, Trendan was happy to leave the wall and take a deep breath of fresh air. The last walk had been almost too much for him to bear, and he could feel his stomach churning. He leaned against the wall with one hand pressed against it. He thought he might be sick, but it passed. Kimala collapsed to the ground, and Trendan immediately went to her. Despite Sanmir’s revitalization spell, she was already in a weakened state, and he was worried the last walk through the wall was too much for her.

  “Is she all right?” Sanmir asked. “I know that last time was a little longer than before.”

  “She seems to be all right, for someone who just walked through solid stone, I guess. But she is in no state to travel again at the moment. We’re going to have to find somewhere to rest so I can tend to her,” Trendan said. “It may be as long as a couple of days if all goes well.”

  “I think I know a place. It isn’t exactly safe, but it’s safe enough. All I know is we have to get away from here as soon as possible. It’s a place I can find some herbs to concoct a healing salve while you tend to her in your way.”

  “Here, help me carry her. I don’t think she can walk on her own.”

  Sanmir helped Trendan bring Kimala to her feet. He wrapped her right arm around his neck for support. “Hold on and hold your breath one more time. I’ll get us out of here.”

  The ground beneath Trendan’s feet began to tremble, and he instinctively held his breath. He was already dreading traveling Sanmir’s way again. Somewhere in the distance, Trendan could hear the shouts of men searching for them. “I can hear them. Whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”

  The ground trembled harder, and Trendan could feel his feet sinking. A moment later, Trendan felt the familiar pulling of his skin as he traveled through the ground. Again, Trendan was thankful when they emerged into fresh air. He dusted off his clothes and was amazed to find that none of the dirt clung to him. The queasiness subsided, too. After he checked on Kimala, Trendan surveyed his surroundings. They had emerged near a copse of trees. Trendan could see the towers of Lux Enor behind them. They had only traveled far enough to give them a good head start.

  “That will get us ahead of the search party, but I’m fearful of trying to tra
vel through the ground again while Kimala is in such ill health. Travel of this kind is hard on people who are not used to it and it’s difficult enough when healthy, but I know it will take its toll on her if we keep doing it,” Sanmir said. “We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot.”

  “How far is it?” Trendan asked.

  Sanmir looked around. “I might be able to give you a better estimate if I knew where we were exactly. But I think if we head southeast, we will come near the spot I have in mind.”

  “What is the place you have in mind?” Trendan asked.

  “It’s an old fortification outside the village of Signal Hill.”

  “Signal Hill. Isn’t it burned to the ground now?”

  “Not the fortification. It’s far enough away from the village to be somewhat safe. There is always some danger.”

  Toborne was the first to get up from the dinner table, waving off the servant carrying his dessert. “Bring me some tabac instead.” The servant nodded and took the dessert back to the kitchen. Toborne went to the mantle, propping himself up with his elbow and forearm. He reached into his pocket and produced his smoking pipe. He tapped out the ash from the bowl at the edge of the fireplace. The servants brought Tatrice and Bren their desserts as Bannon joined Toborne at the mantle, still keeping a keen eye on Tatrice and Bren “If I may, a quick question. It’s rumored that dragons and dragon knights are bonded. Is it true that one will know when the other is in danger?”

  Bren was taking a bite of his cake, so Tatrice decided to answer. “Aye, it’s true, although it’s rarely tested. Most don’t want to incur the wrath of a dragon by harming a dragon knight, or so I’m told.”

  “I see,” Toborne said. “That does seem like a losing proposition, doesn’t it?”

  The servant brought a silver tray with a small pouch of tabac. Toborne took the pouch and began filling his smoking pipe. After he was done, he handed the pouch to Bannon, who also filled his pipe. Toborne took one of the fireplace lighting sticks and placed it in the fire. A few moments later, he used the end of the stick to light his pipe, handing it to Bannon when he was done.

  Finished with his cake, Bren joined Bannon and Toborne at the mantle, and Toborne offered him the pouch of tabac. Bren produced the new smoking pipe Bannon had given him from his pocket and filled it with tabac.

  Every once and again, Tatrice would suddenly remember she was dining with Toborne and a pang of realization would infiltrate the haze of her clouded mind, but the feeling was always temporary. Any thoughts that Toborne might be using a spell or enchantment would be gone almost as soon as it occurred. Tatrice would think of it and then lose the thought, finding herself trying to remember something she knew was important. She watched Bren for a moment. He was smoking his pipe and joining in the conversation with the two men about the state of affairs in Trigothia.

  Toborne noticed Tatrice at the table and left the conversation. “Fellows, we are neglecting our lovely guest. Tatrice, come join us.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t smoke, and at any rate, I doubt I would add anything pertinent to your conversation of politics. It’s a topic I have no interest in whatsoever.”

  “Ah, but you are now a dragon knight. Surely you realize that politics will be part of your job description. How can you hope to keep order in all the kingdoms when called upon if you have no knowledge of the customs of the land?”

  “I believe I can manage to do my job without knowing all the intricacies and corruptions at court.”

  “I disagree,” Bren said. “If you don’t know the machinations behind the scenes, you’re doomed to be a victim of them. There are some aspects of politics that you must learn.”

  “I’m sure I can manage,” Tatrice repeated. “I have been tempered in the crucible of womanhood, the most political court of all.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to take your word for that, not being women ourselves,” Toborne said. The others laughed.

  Tatrice’s face turned red, but she covered her anger. “Thank the gods for that!”

  Bannon waved to the servant. “A round of brandies, please.” By the look on his face, it was obvious he was trying to change the subject.

  “Let’s get to the matter at hand.” Toborne took a long puff on his pipe. “As we dined, Bannon’s men were chasing down the thieves with the dowry. I’m sure they will return at any moment now. Now that you know the old witch is dead, you still want to have your marriage annulled, am I right?”

  Tatrice was appalled at Toborne’s choice of words, and it snapped her out of the fog for a moment. “That’s our business,” Tatrice said. “I think it’s rude of you to ask.”

  “Forgive me, mistress, I meant no offense. It was only my wish to help,” Toborne said. “Although the tradition in Trigothia is for the marriage to be annulled by the person who originally performed the imprint, I may have a solution. Being a member of the First Trine, I have the power to remove the imprints.”

  Tatrice was skeptical. “Then why didn’t Morgoran or even Ianthill tell us this? If a member of the First Trine has the power to remove the imprint, they would’ve done it.”

  “I can’t speak for them. I’m sure they have their reasons, but I assure you we do have the power to remove simple imprints,” Toborne said.

  “Tatrice,” Bren said, “there is no need to be angry with Morgoran or Ianthill. The important matter of fact is that we can have the imprints removed.”

  “I’m not angry with Morgoran or Ianthill,” Tatrice said. “Let them play their little game. However, despite his pleasant demeanor, I just can’t bring myself to trust Toborne.”

  “I’m standing right here,” Toborne said.

  “I thought this is what you wanted. Removing the imprints is the entire reason for this trip to Trigothia.”

  “I know.”

  “You had second thoughts?”

  “No, for some reason, I just don’t want Toborne to do it.”

  “Well, Ni’esa is dead. Unless there is some other alternative, Toborne is our only recourse.”

  “Don’t force it, Bren. If she doesn’t want me to remove the imprints, then I won’t. It’s obvious there is more on her mind,” Toborne said.

  The servant brought in a silver tray carrying sparkling glasses of brandy. Toborne took a glass of brandy and returned to the mantle, where he took a sip. He eyed Tatrice in contemplation. Bren also took a glass of brandy and joined Toborne at the mantle.

  “It looks as though our fire is dying,” Toborne said. He reached down for the iron poker and stoked the fire with one hand while still holding his brandy in the other. He placed the poker on its stand, added a new log to the fire from the firewood holder, and arranged it with the poker again. He left the pointed end of the poker in the embers. When the tip began to glow red, he stood upright, holding the poker directly in front of him.

  Tatrice began to have a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she watched Toborne wave the poker. From her vantage point, he appeared to be pointing the poker directly at Bren’s midsection. She stood up to join the two men at the fireplace mantle. If Toborne had nefarious intentions, she intended to stop them. Toborne gave her a side glance as he thrust the poker directly into Bren’s midsection. Tatrice stopped cold in her tracks. Bren’s glass of brandy crashed onto the floor as he grasped the poker. Toborne yanked the poker from Bren’s body, and Bren let out a breathless gasp, as if he were sucking in air to catch a breath.

  Toborne held out his hand palm first to Tatrice. “Stay where you are.” He cut his eyes toward Bannon, who stepped behind Tatrice and secured her arms behind her back. She immediately thought of fighting back, but the bloody poker in Toborne’s hand dissuaded her. Bren was on his knees, holding his hand over his wound. The only thing on Tatrice’s mind was to tend to Bren’s wound.

  “I’m sorry about this, I really am, but it’s the only way,” Toborne said. He thrust the bloody poker into Tatrice’s abdomen.

  Bannon let Tatrice’s arms go, and she gr
abbed the poker as she fell to her knees. The pain was unbearable. She wasn’t sure if it was the shock or the pain that caused her eyes to well up with tears. Toborne pulled the poker from her abdomen. The heat of the poker helped curb the blood.

  “Why?” Tatrice asked. “Don’t leave us in agony. Go ahead and finish the job.”

  “The job is finished. I have no intention of killing you. That was never my intention.”

  Tatrice was puzzled for a moment, and then she realized what he was saying. He had asked about the bond between dragon knight and dragon. “You want to bring the dragons here, don’t you? That’s why you’ve done this.”

  Toborne put the tip of the poker in the fireplace to burn off the blood. With his other hand, he took a drink of brandy. “Aye, that is my intent.”

  Bannon answered a knock at the door and let in two women carrying medical supplies and bandages. One of the women went to Bren and the other to Tatrice. From the way the women were dressed, Tatrice could tell they were both clerics.

  “Wait a few more moments,” Toborne said as he took another drink of brandy. “I want to make sure enough time passes.”

  The two clerics waited. In the meantime, Tatrice’s pain worsened. She was almost about to plead with Toborne to relent when he nodded to the two clerics. The women went to work bandaging and healing Bren’s and Tatrice’s wounds.

  After the two women had finished their work, Toborne ordered Bannon to tie Bren and Tatrice up. “I had hoped to do this more civilized.”

  “How could you possibly do this in a civilized manner?” Bren asked.

  “It won’t matter anyway. You’ll bring our dragon friends here all worried and frantic. They’ll think you’ve killed us, and they won’t hesitate to burn this place down. I think you’re going to get more than you bargained for when the dragons arrive,” Tatrice said.