by Tyson, Mark
Dorenn awoke to Tatrice gently shaking him. Her brief attempt at a smile made him feel better. At least she was trying to comfort him. “Gondrial asked me to wake you. It is time to get moving again; Vesperin’s condition has worsened in the last hour, and Lady Shey still fears for his life.”
Startled by the news of Vesperin’s condition, Dorenn rose to his feet and walked to his friend. Vesperin looked pale and was shaking. His blond locks, matted with sweat, fell down the sides of his face, and he mumbled incomprehensively. Sometimes his eyes would open, but his uneven gaze never focused on any given point. The women wrapped his injuries in cloth from torn pieces of their dresses, but the blood-soaked cloth did little to stop the acidic saliva of the Dramyd from eating away at Vesperin’s flesh. Tatrice placed a comforting hand on Dorenn’s shoulder, and he responded by putting his own hand over hers.
Rennon did not wake easily from his slumber, and when he did finally join the party in walking toward the Vale, he did so lethargically. Gondrial and Dorenn pulled the cart through the brush and maze of trees as Trendan led the group, searching the path ahead for unseen dangers and scouting out the best route to pull the cart. Dorenn wondered whether it would be easier to carry Vesperin on his back but realized, despite the inconvenience and slow pace, that Vesperin riding in the cart jarred his wounded friend much less and made him less of a burden.
As the sun climbed steadily into the sky, an apprehensive feeling swept over Dorenn. Lady Shey and Gondrial were unsure whether the Dramyds had left the area or pursued another attack. Trendan felt that if they did not reach the Vale by nightfall, the Dramyds would pursue to finish off the rest of the party, but Gondrial doubted the Dramyds had the intelligence to make such a strategic rationalization unless they had an intelligent leader spurring them on. He surmised they would be more interested in eating the dead Dramyds in the road and rummaging through the wreckage then tracking the party through the woods. Dorenn hoped Gondrial was right despite his gruesome elucidation. Dorenn decided to relax and let his guard down some. At about midday, Dorenn felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up again as if something or someone was watching him. He turned to look behind him only to see Gondrial bringing up the rear. Quickly, Dorenn scanned the trees around him and instinctively ducked down, alerting Gondrial to danger.
“What is it?” Gondrial asked in a low voice.
“I feel as though we are being watched. Do you feel it too?”
Gondrial paused for a moment then said, “No, I think you are feeling a bit apprehensive because of last night.” He put his hand on Dorenn’s shoulder. “Relax, Dorenn. The Dramyds are not likely to strike again now. They only strike in numbers, and I think we thinned them out rather effectively last night; besides, they rarely travel in daylight.”
“I will try to relax.” Dorenn nodded uneasily.
“Good,” Gondrial said.
Tatrice rubbed Vesperin’s forehead. “He is getting worse,” she said to Dorenn. “I am no cleric, but I can see he does not have long. His breathing is becoming shallow.”
Rennon moved next to Vesperin and put his hand on his head. “She is right, he doesn’t have long. If I had my pack, I could slow the poison, but without it I do not know of any plant or herb that grows wild in these lands that will help him.”
Gondrial looked at the stricken boy and then at Lady Shey. “We have to try it, Shey.”
Lady Shey sighed and then nodded. She pulled out the stolen book and opened its lock with a flick of her wrist. After reading a few passages, she told the others to stop and handed the book to Gondrial. Tatrice took Gondrial’s place at pulling the cart.
“What we are about to attempt is somewhat dangerous and has not been done for centuries. We are not even sure if it will work at all,” Gondrial began. “Everyone gather around and brace yourselves for the gathering of essence. It can be unnerving to one who has never experienced it before.”
Rennon suddenly appeared horrified and backed away. “Magic! You cannot use foul magic here. I will not stand for it.”
Gondrial rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Why don’t you go to sleep,” he whispered. Dorenn heard a slight ringing in his ears as Rennon collapsed. Gondrial closed the book and gave it to Lady Shey. “Help me put him on the cart, Dorenn.”
Dorenn stared at Gondrial for a long moment and then helped him place Rennon in the cart beside Vesperin.
Gondrial took the tome from Lady Shey and reopened it. He and Lady Shey spoke a few strange words from its pages, and the woods around them seemed to blur for a moment. Dorenn felt queasy and lost his footing, almost dropping his side of the cart.
“Now, move ahead slowly,” Lady Shey said, pushing the rear of the cart.
The woods seemed to blur again as they moved, and Dorenn collapsed onto the ground. Looking to see if Tatrice still held her side of the cart, he saw that she too had fallen. The trees stopped blurring, and his upset stomach returned to normal.
“Did it work?” Gondrial asked.
“I cannot say. Something happened, and I am sure this kind of magic is detectable for leagues. We are surely vulnerable now.”
Dorenn froze at what Lady Shey said. How were they vulnerable, and did she mean that the Dramyds could find them now?
“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 smile 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.”
Chapter 7: 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 massive wooden gates and wall surrounding 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 north 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 was hovering over 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 gates were wooden and thick, and even as the rain pelted down upon them, Dorenn could see that 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 shouted to the guards, “Open the gates and summon Brother Kerad. We have wounded.”
“My lady,” the guard shouted back. “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 th
e 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, and Dorenn stretched his neck and shoulders.
“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 moved to follow 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 body 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 into the rain. He could not see the top from the rainwater stinging his eyes. Once inside the base of the tower, Dorenn was surprised 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 in the fields. 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 stood a man wearing the same armor style Rodraq had worn. His hair was jet black, and his sword seemed to glow even though it remained sheathed. 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. “What source 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 in and pulled the book from the bag she was carrying.
“A foolish action, my sister, the Enforcers are near. They have 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 gave Dorenn a stern look. “Son, he is in the care of our chief cleric. If anyone can help your friend, it would be Kerad.” He paused a moment then added, “And Kerad is notorious for his hatred 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 is going on here?” Rennon glared angrily at Gondrial.
“I am not sure yet,” Dorenn said.
“I think our first task would 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. Sylvalora and I was suspicious of him but could not 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 be going with the wagons as well.”
Gondrial looked at Rennon for a moment. “It is best for you to stay silent.” Rennon started to protest but sat back down on the divan next to Dorenn instead. Dorenn saw that Rennon’s gaze seemed far away and glazed over.
“What did you do to him, Gondrial?” Dorenn asked angrily.
Seancey rose from his chair and seemed to grow ten feet tall. “Sit down and be silent, boy.” Dorenn shrank back from him; he wanted to run screaming from the room just from the sound of Seancey’s deep booming voice, but he sat back down on the divan.
Seancey sat back down in his chair, and there was a long silence.
“What news do you have from Scarovia?” Lady Shey asked.
“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 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 sighing. “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 say he has seen from the future 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.”
Lady Shey nodded. “No offense taken.”
Dorenn’s eyelids had been getting heavier. 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 is a good idea to take the tome to Ianthill,” Enowene said, “but he is hundreds of leagues away, and we are 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, and Sylvalora was waiting at the doorway for Lady Shey. Dorenn decided sleep would be fine. “Maybe for a little while,” he said, and he fell asleep.
