Battlefield of the Sacred Land

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Battlefield of the Sacred Land Page 10

by Mark E. Tyson


  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “And it was Dragonspell she used.”

  Veric went to her. “You know what happened? You know where the Oracle is?”

  “I do know what happened, but I don’t know what happened to the Oracle.”

  Veric looked around at each of the party’s faces and noticed Gondrial looked as sad as Shey. A realization dawned on him. “Marella? Your best friend?”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it, Father. Go find Theosus. He was there too.” Gondrial sympathized with Shey.

  “Of course, my dear,” Veric said. “Wait, Sheyna, did you say Theosus Fiderea, the mindwielder?

  Ianthill nodded. “Aye, she did. He still lives and is nearby.”

  “Take me to him. I have a plan,” Veric said. “I must find Sylvalora. With her by my side, I can thwart the plans of even a gold dragon! If no one else knows of my return, maybe I can convince them I am still imprisoned.”

  If there is a mindwielder nearby, I need to take steps to eliminate the possibility he will discover me.

  “Ah, I see,” Ianthill said. “Theosus might be able to conjure up the permanent illusion that you are still imprisoned here.”

  “Aye, mindwielders are a crafty bunch,” Veric said.

  “We’re lucky we have a few of them nearby, then,” Dorenn said.

  “A few?” Veric asked. “What happened to the rest of them?” This could be bad! he thought.

  “The mindwielders were thought to all be gone,” Ianthill told him. “A few appeared here and there, but no one knew how to train them anymore, and they were killed or exiled. I tried to save a few myself, but without training, mindwielders proved to be extremely dangerous.”

  “Unfortunate. Mindwielders are a useful lot.” He paused. “Why didn’t Theosus train the young mindwielders?”

  “He did,” Morgoran said. “There are a few dozen very well-trained mindwielders in the world because of him. Over the seasons, he has made it his personal crusade to find and train mindwielders. I believe that is why he is here now.”

  “Excellent! King Amarantus must be proud.”

  “That, my friend, is a different story,” Morgoran said. “Come, I will take you to the camp of Theosus.”

  Veric knew he didn’t have much time. He would have to get back to Sheyna and the others as soon as he could. He had laid the groundwork for Morgoran and the others to finally point the blame at Kambor. However, he also knew he needed extra insurance. Kambor was a god dragon, not easily defeated. He reached inside his cloak and produced a green jade statuette.

  He navigated the ruined throne room until he came upon two dead Dramyds. The twisted, burned body of Naneden lay nearby.

  “I think you forgot something,” he said aloud. “I switched statuettes on you all those seasons ago. I didn’t want you to come back too quickly.” He placed the statuette near the dead body. “I didn’t expect you to marry my daughter. Just know if you go near her again, I will end you! I will put the power of the god within me upon you and burn your soul.” He touched the body of Naneden to drive the promise into his very bones. “Your destiny will now come to pass, Rikard.” He watched as the jade statuette began to glow. “Sheyna, forgive me. If I had any other choice, I would not do this. I would not bring back the source of your heartbreak. But he is the only one prepared so long ago. I have no choice.” He took out his Lora Daine and turned it over in his hand. A cold breeze blew through the old throne room. He clenched his fist around the dragon stone and was gone.

  Part 5: Upon the Souls of Destiny

  Chapter 12: The Darkling Soul

  Dorenn snapped awake, and he bolted upright, immediately causing him pain. His body had been in a resting state and was not ready to move so quickly from slumber to wakefulness. He yelped and grabbed the back of his neck with the palm of his left hand.

  “I warned you,” Oria said. “It gets worse the more we do it.”

  Dorenn glared at her but said nothing.

  Oria stretched and got up from her chair. “I will pump some water for us to wash up after our outhouse break.”

  “Is that all?” Dorenn said.

  “No, I will also cook us a meal as usual.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m not being clear. Is that all I need to see? I think I have been here quite long enough.”

  “I believe so,” she said. “But remember, as I have told you, time passes differently here. I doubt anyone knows you are gone yet. Besides, you and I are very weak now. You have lost quite a bit of weight, and your appearance has changed. I strongly suggest you stay here a few more days and let me feed you back to health.”

  “I have to talk to Sheyna. I need to speak with Morgoran and Ianthill. I need to . . .”

  “Sheyna?” Oria interrupted. “I think you need to sit here a while and think about what you have seen. You can’t just run to Lady Shey and blurt out everything you have seen.”

  “Are you planning on keeping me here against my will?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “Why show me all this if I am not to take action?”

  “Wisdom, my friend. You will change things to your favor. But you have to do it wisely. Fawlsbane Vex has used me as the vessel to show you all these events because he cannot interfere directly without breaking his own decree. You can bet the other gods have found similar ways to exert their influence on their followers.”

  “Fawlsbane has come to me before and acted directly,” Dorenn said.

  “Did he? How do you know? The old man in Soldier’s Bluff who gave you the jade statuette containing Toborne’s essence? Do you still believe that was Fawlsbane Vex?”

  “So what you are saying is that everything I know to be true is unreliable. I can’t believe my own eyes or follow my own feelings.”

  “It’s called the Darkling Soul. The realization that nothing is ever what it seems. You have to look at everything with a scrutinizing approach. Your soul now has a touch of darkness, a touch of reality. It isn’t evil or crippling—it is enlightening. It doesn’t mean everything you know to be true, isn’t.”

  “So this is what Morgoran, Gondrial, Shey, and Ianthill must feel. It’s the reason why they wouldn’t tell me everything they knew.”

  “Now you got it. They were and are following their own wisdom. They let you know what is wise for you to know and left other points for you to discover on your own. What Fawlsbane has shown you here with me furnishes you with the knowledge you will need to proceed, but you still must use your good judgment. You are now armed with information unknown by even Morgoran and Ianthill.”

  Dorenn took a step, felt weak, and had to sit.

  “Let me pump that water and get into the provisions. We both need to eat,” Oria said.

  Dorenn nodded. Oria went outside to the outhouse.

  “Tatrice,” Dorenn whispered. “I have been a fool. Our destinies have been very different for some time.”

  “What was that?” Oria had returned.

  “That was fast,” Dorenn said.

  Oria shrugged. “I guess. Don’t you need to go?”

  “Actually, no, I don’t.” He felt so weak.

  “That’s not good. You need water.” She went to him with a tin cup full of freshly pumped water.

  Dorenn sipped the liquid and then closed his eyes.

  “One last vision,” Oria said. “You must know of Kimala and what is happening with your friends before you return.”

  “I thought we were done with visions.” Dorenn said.

  “We are. This one is different, be still.”

  She placed her hands on his forehead. “And one more thing. I get the feeling someone very close to you will die soon. I know I sound callous by saying it this way, but I am not privy to who, and it’s little more than a feeling. Just take care with your friends.”

  Tatrice bolted upright. “Something is wrong! Dorenn!”

  Rennon forced her back down. “Tatrice, you are safe. I’m here. I will help you fight B
annon’s influence.”

  She looked around at the decaying common room. “Where am I?”

  “One of the broken down inns of Lux Amarou,” Rennon answered.

  “We are still in Lux Amarou?” she asked.

  “Aye, you don’t remember what happened?”

  Bren reached for her hand. “I am here with you as well.”

  Tatrice wiggled out from under Rennon’s hold. “Bannon? His influence was gone long ago. Let me up, you fool.”

  Seandara forcibly knocked Bren aside and pushed back Rennon. She helped Tatrice back to a sitting position. “She’s right. I felt it too. Dorenn is in trouble.”

  “What the thunder!” Rennon said. “Have you both lost your minds?”

  “Forgive me, Rennon,” Seandara said. “I didn’t mean to be so forceful.” She helped Tatrice to a standing position. “There still might be time.”

  “My swords,” Tatrice said, looking around the room.

  “Give her back her weapons,” Seandara commanded. “She is fine. I’ll take responsibility.”

  Bren blocked Tatrice. “Not until you tell us what’s going on.”

  “There’s no time!” Tatrice pushed Bren back and met Rennon’s skeptical gaze. “Rennon!” Her stare was pleading.

  Rennon reached out with his mind. “Give them to her, Bren. They are both connected to Dorenn. They both believe he is indeed in some kind of trouble.”

  Bren retrieved Tatrice’s dragon swords and gave them to her. Rennon didn’t miss the poisonous expression Tatrice gave Seandara, and he hesitated for a moment. Tatrice strapped on her sword belt and headed for the door.

  “It’s all right, Rennon,” Seandara reassured him. “She is just a little unsure of my intentions with Dorenn.” She turned to follow Tatrice. “And she should be,” Rennon heard her mutter.

  Upon leaving the inn, the four of them were soon tracing Dorenn’s route through the ruins to the temple. There, just outside the broken doors and stuck into the ground, was Dranmalin.

  “His sword!” Rennon said, trying to grasp the hilt. The sword stayed fast in the ground. Bren tried next to extract it and could not budge the sword either.

  Tatrice paused over Dranmalin. “Only Dorenn can wield it. We can leave it alone. It’s safe.” Seandara reached for the hilt, and Dranmalin’s blade sang as it connected with her. She lifted the sword out of the ground. “He will need it,” she said.

  Rennon was astonished she could wield it. He wondered what her connection with Dorenn entailed. He knew about the dreams, but he never questioned Dorenn much about them. “Follow me,” he said as he pushed open the broken doors to the temple. Inside, the dimly lit room was a desolate empty ruin. There was no sign of Dorenn. They searched the ruin thoroughly and still found no trace of him.

  “Maybe he didn’t come in here,” Bren suggested.

  They made their way back out of the broken entrance and stood in the ruined street in front of the temple.

  Rennon was unsure of what to do next. “He wouldn’t have left Dranmalin. He has to be around here somewhere. Maybe we should split up to look for him.”

  “Do you think that would be wise?” Bren asked. He was looking directly at Tatrice.

  Tatrice stared back at him for a moment, and then her expression lit up with recollection. “Rennon, I . . .”

  “You remember what happened now?” Rennon asked. “What you did?”

  “Aye, I remember, but it wasn’t me. It was Kimala. She tricked me. Naneden did something to me, and he did something horrible to her when he held her prisoner before Sanmir and Trendan rescued her. He made me do things against my will, but it was Kimala on the ship. I was trying to stop her.”

  “What exactly happened?” Bren asked her.

  Tatrice shuddered. “Her eyes! Her eyes burned with a yellow fire, and she attacked me. Her teeth were bared like a cornered animal. She acted as if she was possessed. Every man she attacked on the ship came after me, and I defended myself. She exuded some kind of control over them once she drew blood.”

  A noise from behind him made Rennon turn, daggers drawn, to the broken entrance to the temple. One of the broken doors collapsed, and Dorenn emerged. He appeared somehow older, and his clothes were well worn, as if he had been sleeping in them. He appeared as if he had been away for months rather than hours. His eyes were dark and brooding. He walked directly to Seandara and held out his hand. Seandara instinctively handed Dranmalin over to him. He sheathed the sword.

  “What happened to you?” Rennon asked.

  “How long was I gone?” he asked. His voice sounded parched.

  “Not long at all,” Rennon answered.

  Dorenn’s eyes narrowed. “How long?”

  “Maybe a couple of hours,” Rennon said.

  “Water. Do any of you have your waterskin?” Dorenn asked.

  Seandara gave him hers, and he drank deeply from it.

  “Are you going to tell us what the thunder happened to you?” Rennon asked.

  Dorenn stopped drinking from the skin. “I have been with a young woman who identified herself as the prophetess. Her name is Oria, and she kept me away for months. She showed me what is happening and what I have to do.”

  “Months? That’s impossible!” Bren said. “You have only been gone a few hours.”

  Dorenn stared at Bren with hollow eyes and took another drink without reaction.

  Rennon searched his friend’s face for a long moment as he drank. “No, he’s not lying. He believes he has been gone for months.”

  After he was finished with the water, Dorenn handed the skin back to Seandara. “Thank you,” he told her. After a slight hesitation, he reached for Bren’s hand and led him to Tatrice. He grasped Tatrice’s hand, and she immediately pulled away. He gave her a hard look and forcibly grabbed her hand again and placed it into Bren’s. A tear rolled down Tatrice’s right cheek, but Rennon could feel a sense of relief coming from her. “You two must go after Kimala now,” he said to them. “Rennon, Seandara, and I must find Morgoran and Ianthill. Kimala is heading for Darovan, so it might be a good idea if you let Sanmir and Trendan lead you there. They both have invested interest in Kimala as well.”

  Bren cleared his throat. “Dorenn, we . . .”

  Dorenn spun abruptly to face him. “Go, Bren. Go now, the both of you, and hurry!”

  Bren nodded, and a visibly shaken Tatrice went with him as he hurried away to find Sanmir and Trendan.

  Dorenn faced Rennon and whispered, “Extend your mind. We’re being watched, and I want you to get a feel for their minds. But be careful. I do not wish to alert them that I know they’re there just yet.”

  Rennon nodded.

  Dorenn took Seandara’s hand and cupped it with his free hand. “Now, we should find a spot, just you and me, so we can talk about how you were able to wield Dranmalin.”

  Seandara smiled and nodded.

  Aela grunted. “I knew it. They are going to split up.”

  “Of course they are. We should have known that Kimala would fight off the commands. Naneden is not strong enough yet.”

  “But, Jot, Naneden’s strength has nothing to do with it.”

  Jot thought for a moment. “We need to get to Kimala before they find her, and make sure the master has full control over her.”

  “I have told you. It isn’t control. He has changed her. Only now have the changes begun to set in. She will thirst and hunger like never before. We merely need to direct her; she will do the rest. I agree we need to find her first, but to point her in the correct direction. We can’t have her killing just anyone.”

  “Very well. We will go after Kimala first,” Jot said.

  Chapter 13: Rabbits in the Wolf’s Den

  Bren and Tatrice didn’t speak for several long moments until they came within sight of the docks where Sanmir, Vesperin, and Fayne stood talking.

  Bren stopped but failed to let go of Tatrice’s hand. “What does this mean? Why did Dorenn put our hands together?”


  She abruptly pulled away. “It means Dorenn has released me to be with you. I thought it was obvious. It was his way of letting me go.”

  “Why would he do that?” He thought for a moment. “And why would that be such a terrible thing? Have you not begun to grow fonder of me since we were united?”

  Tatrice started walking again. “I don’t want to discuss this now. We have to see what is going on with Kimala.”

  Bren stopped her again by grabbing her arm. “We need to talk about this.”

  She jerked her arm away. “Go ahead, talk, but you will be talking to yourself!” She started for the dock again, leaving Bren standing behind.

  Sanmir appeared alarmed as Tatrice came upon them. He reached beneath his tunic for something.

  Tatrice held her arms up. “I am here to help.”

  She was thankful when Bren hurried to her side. “She is herself. She can explain everything.”

  “I think we already have a clue as to what happened,” Fayne said. “My mother has taken ill. We caught up to her. She is aboard ship in the brig.”

  Tatrice stopped beside Fayne. “So you are aware that it was her all along and I am innocent of wrongdoing? I didn’t attack the crewmen as it may have seemed.”

  “Aye,” Fayne said. “She did the same to us. We had to defend ourselves too. She has some way to command the men she touches to fight for her. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “Is it some kind of curse?” Bren asked.

  “None I have seen,” Sanmir said. “But I must admit, I am no expert.”

  “She is almost delirious,” Fayne recounted. “She goes on and on, mumbling in gibberish, saying something about he is whole again and he has risen.”

  “Is she speaking of the Oracle?” Bren asked.

  “Could be. We don’t know,” Sanmir answered. “The most disturbing rant is that she has been tainted, changed. She wishes to get far away from her loved ones. It is a bit disquieting.”

  “Perhaps you should honor her wishes, then,” Bren said.

 

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