Dawn of the Sacred Land

by Mark E. Tyson

  “Did it work?” Gondrial asked.

  Lady Shey glanced around. “I can’t tell. Something happened, and I am sure this kind of magic disorients.”

  Dorenn froze at what Lady Shey said. They were vulnerable, and unsure of where they were.

  “Trendan, go and scout ahead, but not too far, and tell us what you see,” Gondrial instructed. Trendan ran up ahead and onto a wooded hill.

  “What did you do?” Dorenn asked Lady Shey.

  Gondrial glanced at Dorenn and smiled from the right side of his mouth. “We cheated a little.”

  Scouting from an outcropping of rock just ahead of the group, Trendan signaled that he spotted something over the next hill. Dorenn halted and held his breath as Trendan ran down from the outcropping until he noticed the grin on his friend’s face.

  “There is a small valley between the next two hills with green grassland and a fair sized village. There is a great white tower rising up from its center. Perhaps we can get help for Vesperin there.”

  “No need to worry about that, friend Trendan,” Gondrial stated, putting his hand on the half-elf’s shoulder. “That is the Vale of Morgoran you have spotted.”

  The End of Dawn of the Sacred Land

  Book 1: Dawn of the Sacred Land

  Book 2: Defenders of the Sacred Land

  Book 3: Exiles from the Sacred Land

  Book 4: Crusade for the Sacred Land*

  *Coming sometime in 2015

  To purchase book 2, Defenders of the Sacred Land at Amazon.com follow or cut and paste this link:

  http://www.amazon.com/Defenders-Sacred-Land-Book-Legacy-ebook/dp/B00IX33JRM

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  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Dawn of the Sacred Land book 1 of the Sacred Land Legacy. If you would like to be informed of my new releases go to http://marktyson.weebly.com and subscribe your email to the mailing list. The form is located right on the home page!

  As always, if you would like to ask me a question or contact me, my email is author.marketyson@gmail.com

  MET April, 2015

  Chapter 1 of Book 2: Defenders of the Sacred Land: The Vale of Morgoran

  The skies above the Vale of Morgoran grew darker as a late afternoon thunderstorm rolled in. Streaks of lightning followed by thunder claps hastened the party onward. As they neared the outskirts of the Vale, a cold rain began to fall. Dorenn remembered hearing about the Vale of Morgoran at a young age. Stories of a maimed wielder living within a tall white tower at the center of a large vale circulated throughout Symboria. However, since law forbade commoners from entering the Vale, Dorenn had never been within a league of the place. The narrow vale stretched out for several leagues into the Symborian hill country, not far from the southern road between Brookhaven and Symbor. The woods grew thicker and darker southwest of the Vale in a region called the Tolennor Forest. The travelers visiting the Tiger’s Head Inn told many stories about the woods of the Tolennor, saying they were haunted and cursed. Dorenn glanced over his shoulder; Tatrice remained close to Vesperin, trying to keep the rain off him with her body. “It won’t be long now,” Dorenn told her.

  The ragtag group stood at the front gate of the village just after first morning light and hailed the guards. The bulk of the gates were wooden and thick, and the walls surrounding the village were brightly polished stone indicating dwarven craftsmanship. Two guard towers at either end of the main gate were manned by two guards per tower. Dorenn noticed they wore armor resembling that of Rodraq and his guards.

  Lady Shey let down the hood of her cloak and spoke to the guards, “Open the gates and summon Brother Kerad. We have wounded.”

  “My lady,” the guard said. “Is that you, Lady Shey?”

  “Aye, now open the gates at once.”

  The guard cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted down behind the gates, “Open the gates. It’s Lady Shey’s entourage.”

  The huge gates rumbled open, and the guards bowed as the group moved into the village. Two guards rushed from behind the guard tower to relieve Dorenn and Gondrial of the cart. Dorenn stretched his neck and shoulders as soon as he was relieved of the burden.

  “Take this cart to the temple of Loracia and see that Brother Kerad tends to the boy,” Gondrial commanded. The guards pulled the cart away and Trendan followed. Dorenn stepped in behind Trendan, but Gondrial grabbed his arm to stop him. “Let Trendan and Tatrice go with Vesperin. I need you to stay here for the moment.”

  “But I—” Dorenn protested.

  “Quiet, your friends will tend to Vesperin,” Gondrial interrupted. “Another underfoot will not help Kerad heal him any faster.”

  Dorenn followed Gondrial to the base of the tower. Lady Shey and Sylvalora had already entered the structure. Dorenn looked up the tower directly into the rain. He couldn’t see the top from the rainwater stinging his eyes. Once inside the base of the tower, Dorenn was astonished to see another tall elven woman. She wore a royal blue dress with silver embroidery lining the cuffs, bodice, and hem. Her hair, tied in a long ponytail behind her head, was the color of harvest wheat. Her skin, as fair as Sylvalora’s, contained no signs of wrinkles, blemishes, or indication of age. She was as beautiful a woman as Dorenn had ever seen. Her facial features were sharper than her human counterparts, and her eyes were warm and a magnificent light blue. To her left was a man wearing the same armor style as Rodraq. His hair was jet black, and the brilliant metal of his sword seemed to glow even though its sheath. His dark eyes were fixed on Gondrial until he noticed Lady Shey.

  “Seancey,” Lady Shey exclaimed as she ran to the armored man. The two embraced.

  “Are you well, my sister?” the big man asked in a deep, husky voice.

  “As well as I can be under the circumstances,” she replied.

  “I am pleased to see you. Where is your guard?”

  Lady Shey bowed her head. “Dead, by Dramyds. Have you seen Lurnie? I have to tell her what happened to Rodraq.”

  “She has gone to Symbor. She should return in a few days,” Seancey replied. “Is this the boy?” Seancey said, trying to change the subject and the mood.

  “It is he,” Lady Shey answered.

  The elven woman stepped forward. “Of what manner was the magic you wielded, Shey? I heard it as nothing I have heard before, and Morgoran went into a fit of curses. The scribes recording his words actually ceased writing.”

  Lady Shey reached into her pack and pulled out the book.

  “A foolish action, my sister, the Enforcers are near. They chased Seancey and I from Scarovia, and now I fear they will be at our gate by morning.”

  “We had no choice, Enowene, the young cleric lay dying, and I am convinced he would have died had we not cast the spell.”

  “So this is the book Naneden has been searching for,” Seancey said, taking the tome from Lady Shey and examining it carefully. “Asheth’s Grimoire. It doesn’t look all that impressive.”

  “Nevertheless it hastened our trip here,” Gondrial said. “It does indeed work, although I fail to see why Naneden would want it. The spells will not work on parties over six or seven. The shear amount of essence the spell requires would tear him apart if he tried to send more than seven persons over two or three leagues.” He put his hand to his chin. “And even if he managed that, it would take him a week to recover afterward.”

  “It appears you suffer no ill effects,” Seancey said sarcastically.

  “I am not Naneden, my overgrown friend,” Gondrial answered in the same tone.

  “Let’s move to the main tower room before we discuss this further,” Enowene suggested. “I would feel better discussing the matter with fewer ears present to overhear.”

  “Agreed,” Seancey replied.

  “What of my friend?” Dorenn asked worriedly. />
  Seancey looked upon Dorenn with sympathy “Son, he is in the care of our chief cleric. If anyone can help your friend, it would be Kerad.” He paused for a moment and then added, “And Kerad is notorious for his dislike of persons underfoot while he is working.”

  Gondrial smiled at Dorenn. “I told you.”

  The main chamber was a room in the structure built around the base of the tower. The larger structure around the base, designed as a meeting place as well as sleep chambers for a myriad of wielder apprentices, largely remained empty now because of the enforcement of the magic laws. Dorenn sat on a plush red velvet divan opposite Lady Shey and Sylvalora. Gondrial, Enowene, and Seancey sat at a small round table between the divans. Rennon entered the chamber and sat next to Dorenn.

  “What news of Vesperin?”

  “It isn’t good news. He is hurt pretty badly. The clerics are working with him. I wanted to stay with him, but a guard said I was to come here,” Rennon answered. “What’s going on here?” Rennon glared at Gondrial.

  “I am not sure yet,” Dorenn said.

  “I think our first task should be to get another wagon of ale and dry goods to Brookhaven,” Lady Shey began. “Brookhaven is being watched. The peddler, Fadral, was killed and replaced with a spy. We need the wagons to return to let whoever may be watching know that Dorenn and his friends are safe.”

  “Naneden has never used spies before,” Enowene said. “What kind of spy?”

  “Fadral was replaced with a Drasmyd Duil,” Lady Shey answered. “A good one. He not only took on the illusion of Fadral but also his mannerisms, and he did not have the pungent order of the Drasmyd Duil of the past. Sylvalora and I was suspicious of him but couldn’t tell what he was until it was too late. I believe the Dramyds that attacked us between Cedar Falls and Soldier’s Bluff were there waiting for their Drasmyd Duil commander to return, but Sanmir made sure that would never happen.”

  “I agree that the wagons should return, but it is wise to send the boys back as well,” Gondrial began. “If we send the wagons, I am sure Trendan, Tatrice, and a few guards can get them there safely.”

  “Excuse me,” Rennon spoke up. “We will all be going with the wagons.”

  Gondrial looked Rennon in the eye and shook his head. “It is best for you to stay silent.”

  Rennon started to protest but decided it would be better to sit back down on the divan next to Dorenn instead.

  “What news do you have from Scarovia?” Lady Shey asked Seancey.

  “Naneden of Scarovia and Drakkius of Abaddonia have been amassing a huge army near the Snake River just on the other side of the Jagged Mountains,” Seancey began. “My guess is that they plan to come through the Southern Pass to attack Symboria first, and that is where most of the Western army is currently assembling. The Northern Pass is also being fortified near the village of Arborton. A smaller army is amassing on the Abaddonian side of the Jaggeds near the Great Road, and there is talk of closing off the Northern Pass completely. Most disturbing of all is the laws against wielders are to remain in effect. The priests of Scarovia will cast unopposed at the Western armies.”

  “The fools,” Gondrial spat. “Those damn Enforcers have agents in all of the courts from here to the ruined pillars of Lux Amarou. They have the kings and commoners alike convinced their laws are still keeping order.”

  “Now, Gondrial, curtail your tongue. Your passions are well-founded, but they do not help our situation,” Enowene reminded him.

  “You are right of course, my lady,” he said. “Forgive my outburst.”

  “We need to take the tome to Morgoran and consult the prophecies. I remember reading something about the Western armies when I was a little girl,” Lady Shey suggested. “Is he in one of his coherent phases?”

  “Not at present. He has been spouting off gibberish, ranting and raving about the emperor of Ishrak or some nonsense. Ishrak hasn’t had an emperor since the War of the Oracle forged the Sacred Land,” Seancey said. “He will not be of much use to us.”

  “How do you know it is gibberish? Perhaps he sees into the future as the scribes say he does,” Enowene said.

  “Nothing the scribes have written of his ramblings has ever come to pass,” Seancey said skeptically.

  “A few things have,” Lady Shey said blushing.

  Enowene cocked a curious eyebrow. “Oh, and what might that be?”

  Lady Shey stiffened. “Never mind that. It is a personal matter, and I will not discuss it here.”

  “All right, dear,” Enowene said. “I did not mean to offend. Perhaps you shouldn’t have mentioned it if it was such a private matter.”

  Lady Shey nodded. “No offense taken.”

  Dorenn’s eyelids were heavy. The lack of sleep the night before had begun to catch up with him, but he fought off sleep to listen.

  “This talk is getting us nowhere. I say we take the book to Morgoran. His eyes may be blinded, but he may yet give us insight,” Gondrial said. “Or better yet, we can wait and take it to Ianthill.”

  “It’s a good idea to take the tome to Ianthill,” Enowene said, “but he’s hundreds of leagues away, and we’re already faced with too many decisions and little time to decide them. I am willing to take my chances with Morgoran.”

  “It is agreed then, we will consult with Morgoran,” Lady Shey said.

  Gondrial shrugged. “Morgoran it is then.”

  Dorenn bobbed his head, almost dozing off. He glanced at Rennon, who had already gone to sleep.

  “Dorenn dear, why don’t you go ahead and get some sleep,” Lady Shey said. “You can barely keep your eyes open. We have finished our talk for now.” She helped him up and pointed to the now unoccupied divan. “Here, why don’t you lie down on this divan until we find suitable quarters.” Dorenn saw Seancey and Gondrial leave the room still talking. Sylvalora and Enowene were waiting at the doorway for Lady Shey. Dorenn decided sleep would be fine.

  “Maybe for a little while,” he said, and then he fell fast asleep.

  Dorenn awoke to Rennon’s snoring. The chamber was empty, except for the two of them, and it was darker. Heavy drapes covered the large windows of the tower chamber. After a few moments, Rennon also woke up.

  “What happened?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

  “You fell asleep.”

  Rennon looked at Dorenn with a smirk on his face. “I am aware of that. Why did I fall asleep? I was under a spell, wasn’t I?”

  Dorenn stood and clasped his hands behind his back as he walked around the room. “I can’t say for sure. We both fell asleep, but then again we both had a rough night, and it’s not unreasonable for us to nod off.” Dorenn looked at his friend who was rubbing his hand over his mouth. “You are fine, Rennon. Even if it was a spell, it was harmless.”

  “Harmless? Unnatural, you mean. I didn’t fall asleep on my own.”

  “Oh, stop it, Rennon. I saw you last night. You did some…” Dorenn realized what he was saying and turned toward a draped window and pulled it open, revealing it was still daylight.

  “What? Go ahead and say it, Dorenn. You saw me what?”

  “I don’t think we should talk about it here.”

  Rennon stood up, paced across the room, and looked out the window Dorenn had opened.

  “How long have you known?” Dorenn asked reluctantly.

  “When I was apprenticed to Sanmir, he helped me to suppress it with an herb mixture he had imported from Darovan. Sanmir did not want the Enforcers to send me away, or worse yet, kill me.”

  “So that was what the bag of bittering tea was that Sanmir gave you before we left Brookhaven. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have understood.”

  “The wild magic breeds insanity, Dorenn. You would have found out soon enough.”

  “I never saw you brew the potion. Are you suppressing it now?”

  Rennon sighed. “Sometimes I mix it in with my food when no one is watching. I don’t always have the time or the privacy to brew it into a potion.”
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br />   “That works? When you eat it in your food, I mean.”

  “It takes longer to work, and it usually adds a bitter flavor that I don’t always savor, but it gets the job done.”

  The door opened, and Vesperin walked in with Sylvalora close behind.

  “Vesperin!” Dorenn and Rennon said at once, running to him.

  Vesperin’s arm was wrapped in bandages, but he did not appear to be in much pain. Dorenn did notice his sandy blond hair had become golden blonde, and his eyes were bluer than he remembered them. He also looked extremely tired.

  “How do you feel?” Rennon asked. “You look terrible. Should you be out of bed?”

  “I have felt better, but I am okay,” Vesperin replied.

  “Come and sit down,” Dorenn said, bringing Vesperin to the divan. “And tell us what happened.”

  Vesperin sat down on the divan. “I can’t say exactly what happened. I can say that Loracia’s spirit was with me. Brother Kerad said it was the spirit of Loracia that saved me. He could do no more for me.”

  “What does that mean?” Rennon asked suspiciously.

  Sylvalora sat down next to Vesperin on the divan. “It means Brother Kerad believes he actually saw the spirit of Loracia heal Vesperin.”

  “A miracle?” Dorenn asked apprehensively.

  “It has happened before,” Sylvalora began. “Sometimes it is necessary for a god or goddess to directly intervene.”

  “According to the priests of Loracia in Brookhaven, the gods are not allowed to directly intervene. Fawlsbane Vex forbade it.” Dorenn said.

  “Ah, but Loracia is the goddess mother and wife to Fawlsbane. If any god could defy his decree, it would be her.”

  “I will not debate you in theology. I am just glad we have Vesperin back in one piece.”

  Sylvalora smiled. “Oh, and Tatrice is on her way here as well; I must take my leave of you to speak with Enowene and Lady Shey.” Sylvalora rose from the divan, smiled at Vesperin, and walked to the immense wooden door. After she had disappeared from sight, Dorenn moved to sit next to Vesperin. “Do you feel different now?”