Exiles From The Sacred Land (Book 2)

by Mark Tyson

  Deylia shrugged. “I don’t think he’s from around here.”

  “No payment, no potion. You know that.”

  Deylia nudged Rennon. “You have gold, don’t you?”

  Rennon was not about to tell her what he had. “I can pay,” he said defensively, trying to sound gruff.

  Hadder eyed him apprehensively. “Let’s see it then.”

  Rennon’s anger flared. “Oh, no, first I need to see the herbs.”

  Hadder puffed up like a bear as his left eyebrow shot up. “Herbs? What is this idiot talking about, Deylia? Get him out of my shop.”

  “Wait! Here.” Deylia let her hood fall back, revealing her shiny light brown hair, which cascaded down the back of her head and into the hood of her cloak. She handed the grumpy apothecary a gold piece, looking extremely embarrassed. “May I have some of the potion?”

  Hadder growled before disappearing behind a shelf.

  It’s a gold piece for the potion. I don’t know what herbs you are talking about, but the potion suppresses the malady and masks it from the Enforcers, Rennon heard her say in his thoughts, if they are not on our trail already after your stunt out there. We shouldn’t be thinking to each other like this anymore either.

  “I’ll take the potion as well, please,” Rennon said. He heard a grumble from somewhere behind the shelves.

  How did I just offend him?

  The Enforcers have outlawed herbs used to suppress the malady here in Trigoth. It makes it more difficult for them to find us. If it is known that Hadder makes the potion, he will be arrested. If you ask for a potion, it could be a potion for anything. Careful how you word things. Now shut up!

  Are there others who have the melody?

  Deylia laughed aloud, and Rennon felt his anger rising again.

  “Planning to carry a tune, are you?” She laughed again.

  “What are you bloody laughing at?”

  “It’s malady not melody. You did just arrive off the boat?”

  Rennon took offense, but he was not about to let her know she was right. It was none of her business. “No!” he shot back.

  “Here you go. That will be two gold for the potions to . . . er . . . cure your toothaches,” Hadder said.

  Rennon took one of the potions and pressed a gold piece into the dirty shopkeeper’s hand. “Now, you two better get along home to your mother. She will be missing you this late in the evening, and she’ll be wanting that other potion to sleep.”

  Rennon looked at him with an odd expression, wondering what he was talking about until he turned around and saw two men in grey cloaks standing behind him and Deylia.

  Are they Enforcers? Rennon thought to Deylia.

  Deylia’s eyes went wide, and she gasped. The two mens’ mouths opened with surprise. They both reached for something under their cloaks.

  “You fool, you bloody fool,” she said to Rennon as she produced her dagger in one fluid motion. Run, you fool, you have exposed us!

  Comprehension dawned on Rennon as the first man reached for him. Wild thoughts pervaded his mind. Images of the man burning and screaming in pain. Rennon tried in vain to calm his emotions, but the man’s robes burst into flame anyway, and he erupted into painful screams. Rennon became vaguely aware of Deylia looking at him in horror, but he did not care. His instincts took over, and he reached his thoughts forward to the man in flames and touched him with a sense of hatred for his fellow Enforcer. The burning man, no longer screaming in pain, calmly turned to his partner, who was winning a struggle with Deylia, and began strangling him, catching him on fire in the process.

  “Garain,” the other Enforcer gasped. “He has your mind! Fight it!” It was too late; Garain had already lost his fight against Rennon’s resolve, and the Enforcer moved in closer for the kill. Hadder knocked Rennon aside and kicked the two burning men from his shop with one massive boot.

  He rounded on Deylia and Rennon. “Get out of here, you two. With a display like that, more will be here in moments. He pushed them both out into the alleyway and closed the large wooden door behind them, locking up shop. Rennon looked into Deylia’s eyes for the first time since he had lost his temper and control. Her eyes revealed her terror, and Rennon had to look away.

  Go. I am unclean. I can see your horror.

  I have never seen anyone with the malady do something like that before! And stop thinking to me, you will mark yourself again.

  I don’t care! Go.

  Deylia slowly turned to leave. She paused to study him once more, and then she ran off down the alleyway.

  Rennon started in a run through the foreign quarter to the inn where he left Ganas sleeping. He uncorked the potion and drank deeply. The thick liquid stuck in his throat and coated it with an oily, foul-tasting ooze. He choked; it was quite different from the tin of herbs Sanmir had given him in Brookhaven. As he reached the foreign quarter, he saw several more men dressed in grey cloaks running down the street toward the alleyway. He hid in the shadows behind a pillar as two Enforcers ran by. One stopped and shouted to another, “What is the mark?”

  “An afflicted girl just killed two men near the old shops. Streben captured her running for the docks. They think there may have been another with her, but the messenger I was talking to said they haven’t captured anyone else yet.”

  Their voices faded as they moved further away.

  Rennon’s head was spinning. They were blaming the incident on Deylia. He moved out of the shadows and started back for the alley. Despite what she had told him, he projected his thoughts to her, but it felt different now. The potion worked fast. What could he do about it now? He headed back for the inn, tears streaming down his cheeks. I can’t let them just take her. If the Enforcers here are like those in Symboria, they will kill her. What choice do I have now? he thought. He ran for the inn. A moment later, he was running up the stairs to his room. He burst in, and Ganas stirred awake.

  “What the . . . ?” Ganas said.

  Rennon recounted the events in an uneasy haste. When he was done, Ganas sat staring at him with an angry expression for a moment.

  “So that’s why you volunteered to come here with me,” Ganas said. “You had your own agenda. What were you thinking?”

  Rennon suddenly realized that this was the first Ganas had heard of his secret. Rennon chastised himself for letting his guard down without thinking. “No, it wasn’t like that at all. I use the herbs to suppress it, to protect us from it.”

  “No, you have jeopardized our mission for Morgoran by hiding it.”

  “By hollowed Vex!” he swore. “She has me all befuddled. I can’t believe I blurted it all out like that. The potion—what was in that blasted potion?”

  “You are a wielder, and what’s worse, you shunned Dorenn for it.”

  “No, I am not a wielder.” Rennon’s anger surged within him. “I am no wielder!” he shouted.

  Ganas clutched his own head in pain; blood trickled from his nose. ”Rennon, stop it!” he gasped.

  Rennon stared in horror as blood now gushed from Ganas’ nose. He willed himself to hold back, to stop. What was that potion? He pulled the bottle from his cloak and looked at it as if it would tell him something. After a moment, he felt himself regaining control. Ganas sighed and breathed in deeply, his hateful eyes fixed on Rennon. Without warning, Ganas reached for his scabbard and produced his sword, pointing it at Rennon’s throat. “Do that to me again and I will run you through, mindwielder!” he threatened.

  Again, Rennon felt his anger rise, but he was able to suppress it now. “How would you know if I was a mindwielder? How would you know anything of the wild magic, being from Symboria?”

  “As soon as we deliver Morgoran’s message to Theosus, I think we should part company.”

  Rennon nodded.

  Rennon did not sleep well for the last few hours of night. His mind would not let him escape the images of the night and the guilt of letting Deylia take the blame for the fallen Enforcers. Since Ganas planned to leave Trigot
h without his company, Rennon decided he must take responsibility for his actions. He had to find the Enforcers and offer them his testimony. He opened his eyes to see Ganas sitting up with his unsheathed sword lengthwise on his unmade bed. He eyed Rennon as he prepared to get dressed for the day.

  Rennon felt a pang of regret. “Ganas, after we meet with Theosus Fiderea, I will go to the Enforcers. I will offer my confession in exchange for the woman.”

  “That is the honorable course to take, Rennon. I will explain to the others when I return what happened, minus the mindwielder confession.”

  “Ganas, I wonder, will you tell Dorenn I am sorry for how things turned out?”

  “Aye, I will.”

  Rennon and Ganas left the inn just after daybreak in search for Theosus Fiderea’s shop. They found it nestled in a corner in the merchants’ square. It was an oddly rounded structure with large round windows inset in wooden trim. The front walk was made of wood fastened tightly together and polished. Ganas entered ahead of Rennon and made his way to a wooden counter near the rear.

  “May I help you?” a pleasant-looking man behind the counter with white hair and wearing a long, linen apron asked.

  “I am Ganas Nashe, and this is Rennon Parah. We have traveled far to meet Theosus Fiderea.”

  “Oh, and what purpose do you have with Theosus?”

  “We come bearing a message from Morgoran Cleareyes.”

  The old man eyed Ganas with suspicion. “Morgoran Cleareyes? How is that possible?”

  “I beg you, good sir, we will explain the message to Theosus. Is he here?”

  The old man behind the counter did not move; he eyed both Ganas and Rennon, sizing them up. “He is around, but he rarely receives guests. I will ask him. Come back tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Rennon blurted out. Ganas gave him a stern look.

  The old man scowled. “Is there something the matter with tomorrow?”

  Ganas put his hands together sympathetically. “No, it’s just that we have come so far and our message is urgent. Could we possibly meet with Theosus today?”

  The old man shook his head. “I am afraid not. Theosus is a busy man. He would never agree to meet with someone on such short notice, especially someone he has never met. You will have to come back tomorrow.”

  “How do you know he has never met us?” Rennon pointed out.

  “Because I have never met you,” the old man said.

  Rennon’s apprehension grew. The longer he delayed with this meeting, the more urgency and danger he felt for Deylia.

  “Now, if there isn’t anything else, I must get back to my work.”

  Rennon stared into the old man’s face. “What time do we return tomorrow?”

  The old man looked as if he were taken aback for a moment. He was not going to set up a meeting. He doesn’t believe we have a message from Morgoran Cleareyes. He thinks we are lying! He believes Morgoran is still cursed.

  “About the same time tomorrow, I should expect,” he stated coldly.

  Rennon stared at him. “You don’t believe us, do you?”

  “What?” the old man asked.

  “Rennon, we will just come back tomorrow,” Ganas said.

  “It won’t make any difference; Theosus will not meet with us. This aged fellow has no intention of setting up a meeting for us. He doesn’t believe us.”

  “Now see here, young man. No need for rudeness. I most certainly will.”

  “Um, Rennon, what are you doing?”

  Rennon looked harder into the old man’s face. Theosus is in the back room listening to us. I wasted a whole gold piece on that useless potion!

  “I think you two should leave now. I tell you I will set up a meeting, and that is exactly what I intend to do. Tomorrow.”

  “Is tomorrow fine for you too, Master Fiderea?” Rennon shouted. “Or would you just rather come out here and speak to us today?”

  Two patrons standing near a shelf of multi-colored potions turned at Rennon’s shouting.

  “Rennon!” Ganas gasped. “I am sorry. I will take him out of here.,”

  “No need,” came a voice from somewhere in the rear of the shop. “Friedan, tend the shop and send them back here to me.”

  “As you wish, Master Fiderea.” He cocked his head in the direction behind him. “Take care to use your good manners.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Ganas said. Rennon headed straight for where he knew Theosus Fiderea was standing.

  As they entered the rear of the shop, Theosus came into view. He was a tall man with white hair, standing facing a shelf away from Rennon and Ganas. His robes were red and black with a strange pattern embroidered on the back. It looked like the back of a black widow spider.

  “Greetings, friends of Morgoran Cleareyes.” He turned to face them, and both boys gasped at his appearance. His face was a dark hewn indigo; he had slightly raised ears, and his eyes were as red as his robes. “I am Theosus Fiderea.”

  Chapter 2: Hidden

  Theosus gestured for Ganas and Rennon to pull up a chair and sit down. “Do you boys play nine cards by chance?” he asked.

  “A little,” Ganas answered.

  Rennon nodded.

  Theosus sat in his chair and pulled himself to a small table situated in his comfortable and cozy back room.

  “Good. I think I can come down to your level. Sit, sit.” He gestured again.

  “Master Theosus,” Ganas began, “we really don’t have time to play nine cards. We—”

  “Nonsense. If you want to speak with me, you will have to do it over a game of nine cards,” Theosus argued.

  Ganas set aside his irritation and took his place at the table.

  Rennon smirked and shook his head as he reluctantly joined them at the table.

  “Now, what is so urgent that you must bother me so?” Theosus said as he dealt the cards.

  Ganas took his cards and looked at them intently. “I have been sent to you as a personal envoy for Morgoran. He has instructed me to inform you that the curse put upon him has been lifted and that he has returned.”

  Theosus looked at his cards as if he didn’t hear Ganas speak. “Ah, nine of leaves,” he said as he placed a card embossed with nine green leaves upon the table. “My lead.”

  “Pardon me, Master Theosus, but did you hear what I said? Morgoran told us that you would know what to do with the news of his return.”

  Rennon’s turn was next, and he placed a two of stones onto Theosus’ nine of leaves. “Two stones crush nine of leaves. Three points to me,” Rennon stated flatly.

  Theosus scowled. “Lucky card. Your turn, friend,” he said to Ganas.

  “What?”

  “Play your cards if you have them. Don’t waste time,” Theosus scolded.

  “But this is a waste of time. Morgoran says—”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Morgoran has reappeared, right? The curse of the Silver Drake—an item made of the power of the gods—has lifted the curse somehow.” His red eyes gleamed in contrast to his indigo skin. “Truly, do you have any idea how many times I have heard that story over the seasons? Most who utter those words think I will reveal the location of some hidden treasure or uncover some forgotten artifact for them. That is, of course, if they believe Morgoran existed at all. He has become somewhat of a myth in the Trigothian kingdoms. Now listen to me, good boy, Morgoran will never return. The Silver Drake’s curse will never be lifted; he left me with no location of treasure or staves of powerful magic. Now, if you have nothing else to say, play a card!”

  Ganas sighed at his cards and placed the two of leaves over the two of stones. “Two leaves cover two stones. Three points to me.” Ganas folded his cards in his hand.

  Rennon pulled out a card. “Not so fast.” He placed an ace of gems over the two of leaves. “Trump card. I’ll take those three points.”

  “I am beginning to think you boys might be better at playing cards than I thought,” Theosus observed. “Where did you two learn to play nine cards?”
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  Ganas took a frustrated breath and then stated sarcastically, “We are mountain folk. We invented the game.”

  Theosus chuckled. “Oh, you did, did you?” He put his cards down onto the pile and folded his arms across his chest. After he studied Rennon and Ganas for a few more moments, he gestured with his arms up in surrender. “I give up. All right, I am game for a good storytelling. Tell me of Morgoran’s miraculous return.”

  Ganas put his cards on the pile. “The Silver Drake removed her curse. It took him a few months, but he has recovered, and he sent me with this message. He said you would know what to do next.”

  Theosus nodded. “Interesting, but I wonder. What color are his eyes now?”

  “As blue as the midday sky.”

  “I see. Well, what is his disposition?”

  “His what?” Ganas asked.

  “Is he angry, happy, sad?”

  “I would say grumpy,” Rennon chimed in.

  Theosus chuckled. “That certainly sounds like him, but I hardly believe Morgoran would send a representative. He doesn’t trust anyone, you see.”

  Rennon’s face turned red. “Not even you?”

  “Especially not me.”

  “I am a fool for trying!” Rennon responded.

  “What did you say?” Theosus asked, a little surprised.

  Ganas put a finger to his temple and rubbed it as if he were getting a headache. “Rennon, we are not here to start up trouble,” he cautioned between clenched teeth.

  Rennon moved closer to Theosus. Hatred swelled within him, and he wasn’t sure why, but he knew he wanted to attack. “I said that your arrogance is only second to your obvious stupidity.” Rennon could see Theosus clearly did not approve. Rennon’s behavior was not something Theosus was used to seeing.

  “Perhaps I should have brought you Morgoran’s head for the sole purpose of proving his return to you. But, then again, what use to us would he be dead?”

  Theosus stood straight up, one eyebrow cocked at Rennon. “Why, I should—”