One gauntleted hand remained firmly on her shoulder, its grip deceptively gentle, just enough to warn her not to make any sudden moves. A blade gleamed in his other hand as he maneuvered her in front of him like a shield.
Casting a glance around, she was surprised to see that she was back at the Keepers’ campsite. Her head pounded as her thoughts grew ever more jumbled. Why had he brought her here?
Erdhan stood in the Keepers’ midst, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Orlla groaned inwardly. He had made it back safely after all. She should have trusted his expertise and remained at the camp with the other Keepers. Instead, she had risked their lives by exposing them to a Protector, or whoever this man really was. One of Brufus’s soldiers might have overpowered a Protector and donned his uniform for all she knew. Either way, it was unlikely he was patrolling the woods alone. There could be any number of others closing in on the camp at this very minute.
Akolom approached the masked man cautiously, a look of growing disbelief spreading across his face. “Khor? Is that you?”
Orlla’s eyes flashed toward the man’s silhouette in dawning comprehension.
He curled a condemning lip, black eyes glittering behind his mask in the light of the flames. “Akolom! I should not be surprised to see you here in a camp of traitors. You have disgraced your kingdom by attempting to flee with a fugitive.” He cast a slit-eyed glance around the campfire and settled a vindicated look on Samten. “Two fugitives.”
Akolom raised his hands in a placating manner. “Look around you, Khor. Every Keeper here is a fugitive. Do you aspire to arrest us all single-handedly?”
Khor’s eyes flickered uncertainly behind the safety of his mask. “I have vowed to return to Efyllsseum with the spawn of the house of Radmount in shackles. After that, I will come for you.”
Undeterred, Akolom took a step closer. “Where is your fellow henchman, Daglin?”
Khor’s grip on Orlla slackened momentarily before he caught himself. “Slain by Brufus’s soldiers. They ambushed us in the woods not far from here. I fled and had the good luck to cross your trail.”
“Release Orlla at once!” Erdhan snapped, the throwing knife in his hand glinting in the moonlight. “Or you will suffer Daglin’s fate.”
Khor raised his sword menacingly across Orlla’s throat. “I am a Protector of Efyllsseum, sworn to hunt down this fugitive and bring her before King Ferghell to stand trial for stealing the Opal of Light.”
“Not anymore. Your king rots in a watery grave!” Erdhan spat out.
Khor tensed and swung his sword in Erdhan’s direction, arcing through the air so fast that Orlla couldn’t glimpse the blade. “You Macobite cur! How dare you blaspheme our monarch! I will have your head for your insolence.”
“He speaks the truth,” Akolom said in a somber tone. “The flaming breath of a light dragon ignited the king’s ship when he pursued us through Grisalt Straits.”
Khor let out a strangled growl. “The light dragons have arisen?”
“Yes.” Akolom drew his brows into a stiff grimace. “And they are not alone.”
“What do you mean they are not alone?” Khor asked, dragging the words out as though questioning the fanciful rant of a young child.
Akolom studied him with an air of deliberation. “The Opal of Light has restored sunlight to the mainland, as we hoped. As a result, the snowcap that gripped the Strylieht mountains for centuries is melting.” He hesitated as though struggling with the weight of his words before continuing. “The Onyx of Darkness has been exposed in the peaks to the north.”
Khor looked around suspiciously at the drawn faces of the Keepers, their eyes haunted in the ghoulish light of the flames. “How can you be sure the dark stone has been exposed? Has anyone seen it?”
Akolom interlaced his fingers behind his back and paced in front of him. “My crystal lens revealed a swathe of black dragons hovering over the Strylieht mountains beyond the sinking bogs. They answer only to the dark stone’s call.”
For a long moment, Khor stood stock still, his posture revealing nothing about his intentions. Slowly, he lowered his sword, sheathed it, and released Orlla from his grip. She scrambled away and stood glaring at him from a safe distance.
“If what you say is true, why are you not on your way to Efyllsseum to warn our people of what you have seen?” Khor demanded.
“Teldus has been tasked with that mission,” Akolom said. “Erdhan, Orlla, Samten, and I will set out for the Strylieht mountains to locate the Onyx of Darkness and destroy it before it can be used against us. The rest of the Keepers will head deep into the Angladior mountains and find a safe haven for the Opal of Light until our return. We must act swiftly to save the world from the terrible evil that has crawled from its lair.”
Khor moved his jaw side-to-side. “When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow morn,” Akolom replied.
Khor met his gaze and held it. “You will have need of a trained Protector to cross the sinking bogs. I have fought mercenaries and know their ways.”
The Keepers shifted uncomfortably exchanging guarded looks with one another.
Akolom inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I am glad of your support. We must come together against such darkness.”
Teldus shot to his feet and gestured angrily at Khor. “We can’t trust him! He’s a Protector, not one of us. By his own admission, he hunted down Orlla—held a knife to her throat in full view of all of us. Yet now, he has a change of heart and wants to accompany her to destroy the dark dragon stone? Don’t you find that in the least bit suspicious?”
“Khor is an islander and therefore he is one of us,” Orlla cut in. “His fealty was to King Ferghell as long as he lived, and for that we cannot fault him. Now, the Protectors are free men. We will have need of each other’s skills and abilities before this mission is over. This is our chance to demonstrate our ability to work as one. Protectors and Keepers are not enemies—they never were. King Ferghell perpetrated that myth for his own purposes. More than ever before, we must strive to show unity if we hope to bring peace to the kingdoms of the world.”
Teldus scowled. “It could be a ploy to betray us to a garrison of Protectors.”
Akolom threw him a reproving look. “What trap could Khor hope to spring by escorting us through the sinking bogs?”
For several minutes, Orlla listened to the Keepers argue back and forth. The bad blood between Keepers and Protectors had festered for centuries, and it was clear that King Ferghell’s strategy of keeping them at each other’s throats was effective even in his death. Someone would have to break the deadlock—perhaps newer blood had a better chance of success. Quashing her own resentment of the Protectors, she walked back over to Khor. “I accept your offer of military assistance.”
A disconcerted hush fell over the Keepers. They watched with an air of subdued shock as Khor reached out and clasped Orlla’s forearm in a gesture of solidarity.
Akolom turned to the other Keepers. “The issue is settled. Khor will escort our party through the sinking bogs to the Strylieht mountains.”
Teldus opened his mouth to add something but then thought better of it.
“Where are your horses?” Khor asked.
“We turned them loose before we fled Efyllsseum,” Orlla answered.
“My mount is tethered a short distance away, along with Daglin’s,” Khor said. “They will need to be reshod for such a long trip, and two horses will not suffice to carry five people.”
“My father is the blacksmith in Wilefur,” Erdhan said. “We can stop off there and pick up whatever supplies we need and additional horses.”
Orlla raised her brows in alarm at the mention of Wilefur. The thought of returning to Erdhan’s parents after lying so blatantly to them made her more than a little queasy. Josef was not a man to be toyed with, and while Catrain had been friendly to her while she had sojourned there, she would not take kindly to being deceived about her son’s alleged elopement with Orlla.
/> “I’ll fetch the horses,” Khor said, before disappearing between the trees.
Orlla hurried over to Erdhan. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to stop in Wilefur? I fear your family will despise me when they learn the truth.”
Erdhan quirked a grin. “If it makes you feel any better, we could have Akolom wed us and make it official.” He gave an exaggerated frown as if considering the prospect. “That way, if we encounter slavers, you will be less desirable quarry as a married woman than as an unsullied maiden.”
Orlla twisted her lips in mock outrage. “A fine reason to wed, indeed.”
Despite the banter, the molten intensity of the look in Erdhan’s eyes made her unsure of herself, and she tore her gaze from his and busied herself brushing the dirt and leaves from her clothing.
Akolom came walking up before Erdhan could tease her any further. “Dawn is not far off,” he said, casting a worried glance skyward. “Once Khor returns, we must be off.”
He glided off again and instructed the Keepers to begin disbanding the camp and gathering up their belongings. They spread the embers and doused the fire with the contents of a waterskin before covering it with dirt.
As soon as Khor reappeared with the horses, Akolom bade the other Keepers farewell. “Be on the lookout for Brufus’s soldiers,” he warned, as he loaded the decoy stone into Khor’s saddlebags. “After what happened to Daglin, we cannot be certain they have left the forest.”
“Until we meet again, master mentor,” Teldus replied, his voice unusually low and grave. “Fare well on your quest.”
Orlla watched as Teldus and the rest of the Keepers departed with the sack containing the Opal of Light just as a rose-fingered dawn daubed the horizon. It was the first time the light dragon stone had left her sight since she had retrieved it from Efyllsseum. If the Keepers failed to protect it, the quest to destroy the Onyx of Darkness would be a wasted effort. Either stone in the hands of a monarch bent on domination would wreak havoc on the kingdoms of the world.
Erdhan and Orlla rode Daglin’s horse as they led the way to Wilefur, taking care to remain hidden for the most part from the main road. Akolom and Samten walked behind them, and Orlla was glad to see them engaging in what appeared to be deep conversation. Perhaps Samten might yet absorb some sorely needed wisdom along the way and change his mind about signing up with King Hamend’s army after they retrieved the Onyx. She had tried to convince him that the Macobite monarch was equally as greedy and power-hungry as King Ferghell had ever been, if not worse. But Samten stubbornly insisted that Efyllsseum was to blame for the mainland monarchs’ desperation, as he called it. For whatever reason, he had always been attracted to the worst kind of mentors.
Khor took up the position of mounted rear guard, constantly scanning the surrounding trees with a practiced eye for any sign they were being tracked. When the undergrowth grew too thick to navigate, they took to the road for short sections. Every so often, a laden cart rumbled by, its driver giving a perfunctory nod in their direction.
“Farmers and traders taking goods to market in Wilefur,” Erdhan explained. He peered over his shoulder at Orlla. “You’re uncommonly quiet. Not nervous, are you?”
She tweaked a rueful grin. “Just wondering how your family will receive us. Your father can be a harsh man at times—you told me that once.”
Erdhan snorted. “You managed to hold your own with him. Besides, my mother will be overcome with joy to see us again. That will be enough to silence my father.”
“But she will hate me when she learns we are not betrothed,” Orlla said.
“Then we might have to pretend otherwise,” Erdhan whispered, his lips tantalizingly close to hers.
Orlla drew in a sharp gulp of air and forced a blithe grin. “I’ll give it some thought.”
He gave an exaggerated whoop of excitement and spurred their horse on faster—but not as fast as Orlla’s heart was pounding.
When they finally took the fork off the main road to Wilefur, Erdhan’s jubilant manner became more subdued.
“Now who’s nervous?” Orlla teased. “You’re awfully quiet.”
He frowned and pointed off in the distance. “Look at the smoke—it’s too wide to be coming from a chimney stack. Something isn’t right.”
Orlla put a hand to her brow and gazed into the glare of the morning sun. “Perhaps a bonfire on one of the homesteads?”
Erdhan pressed his knees to the flank of their steed and let out the reins, urging the horse forward. “Let’s hope that’s all it is.”
As they neared the first few outlying farmhouses, they stopped to wait for the others.
“Stay alert,” Erdhan cautioned them, when they eventually caught up. “We spotted smoke up ahead. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Rigid with apprehension, he flicked the reins and they cantered on. As they continued along the road past the farmhouses, the foreboding feeling that hung in the air only intensified. The buildings and fields were oddly deserted. Orlla’s throat began to pulse with fear. Where was everyone?
When they crested the next hill, goosebumps prickled over her arms. The smoke they had spotted was the burning remains of a farmhouse.
Chapter 3
Khor came trotting up behind Orlla and Erdhan on his steed. He surveyed the distant scene in silence for a moment, his keen eyes assessing every detail, lingering on the cattle that grazed in a nearby field. When he spoke, his tone was hushed and reverential. “I take it that was your homestead?”
“A neighbor’s,” Erdhan said, with a hitch in his voice, “but it does not bode well for my family if raiders came through.”
Khor gave a dismissive grunt. “Raiders with no interest in livestock it would seem. There’s more to this than meets the eye.”
It wasn’t long before Akolom and Samten joined them. They contemplated the disturbing sight with strained expressions as they caught their breath after the climb to the top of the hill.
“It’s a neighbor’s homestead,” Orlla explained.
“Are there any signs of life at all?” Akolom asked.
“Only the cattle and a few sheep in the pen that we can see from here,” Orlla said. “We must hope the inhabitants managed to flee.”
“An uncommon silence hangs over the place,” Khor said. “Whoever did this is either long gone or hiding from us.” He turned to Erdhan. “How much farther to your house?”
“Half a mile over the next hill.” A hard glint settled in Erdhan’s crystal blue eyes. “If anything has happened to my parents or brothers, I will hunt down the curs who did this and carve out their black hearts.”
Akolom threw him a look of abject pity. “A deed that will do nothing to even the score.”
“Perhaps not, but those who brew evil must be made to drink their own poison,” Erdhan muttered. Without waiting for a response, he yanked on the reins and they cantered off in the direction of his home.
Before long the blacksmith’s stone house came into view in the meadow below them. No lanterns glowed through the windows and the fire was unlit, but to Orlla’s immense relief, it hadn’t been torched. Maybe the neighbor’s farmhouse had been the only unlucky recipient of the raiders’ wrath.
They rode down the hill and trotted around to the back of the building, pulling up short at the shocking sight that greeted them. Both the barn and the forge had been plundered, tools cast aside, barrels splintered and overturned, stalls knocked asunder—a scene that bespoke a deliberate act of sabotage as opposed to the destruction that might have ensued from a fight.
Khor rode up behind them, a grim set to his lips as he reached for his sword. “Keep your guard up! The intruders could still be in the vicinity.” He leapt down from his steed and proceeded to sweep the barn with a series of well-placed slashes of his blade intended to root out anyone hiding among the hay bales.
“I’ll check the house.” Erdhan dismounted and darted inside just as Akolom and Samten came walking up.
A heartbeat later, a spine-t
ingling howl of despair ripped through the air.
Orlla’s stomach knotted with fear. “Erdhan!” she yelled, leaping down from her mount. Before she could take another step, Khor laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Give him a moment, Keeper. That was not a cry for help. I fear his family did not fare well in the raid.”
Orlla struggled to free herself from Khor’s grip. “All the more reason to go in there and comfort him.”
“Let him vent his anger first,” Akolom said in a soothing tone. “He will come out to us when he is ready.”
“Who could have been behind this?” Samten asked. “Pillaging, killing, setting fire to homesteads?”
Khor paced in front of the barn. “This was not the work of mercenaries or common cattle thieves. My hunch is that Brufus and his men came through here, but for what reason I cannot say.”
Akolom looked grave. “I suspect they were hunting for Orlla. Brufus believes she still has the Opal of Light.”
Orlla suppressed a horrified gasp. The thought of the townsfolk being attacked on her account shook her to the core. The last thing she had wanted to do was add to the suffering of Macobites in bringing the Opal of Light to the mainland, but so far that was all she had accomplished.
Samten narrowed his eyes. “How did Brufus know to look for her in Wilefur?”
Akolom rubbed his long fingers over his brow. “One of the farmers who passed us on the road along the way probably recognized Erdhan and told the soldiers she was with him.”
“A fellow townsman would not volunteer such information,” Khor said in a grim tone. “Brufus must have threatened his life.”
They turned toward the house at the sound of a loud thump on the front stoop. Erdhan slumped beneath the lintel, one arm raised above his head supporting his weight against the door frame. He directed a harrowing look their way, his blue eyes feral and unfocused.
Onyx of Darkness: An epic dragon fantasy (The Keeper Chronicles Book 2) Page 2
