You are not the person you think you are. There is good within you. It has been shut away by the darkness of your life. Set it free and follow your heart. It will never lead you astray.
Erenoth backed away, putting his hands over his face. He was confused, unsure whether this conversation was really happening or it was just an illusion. Was he still in the shelter of the roots, passed out and dreaming?
Erenoth. Look at me.
"No!" he said, gritting his teeth.
He balled his fists, looked at the ground, and dashed forward. He wanted away from this spirit—or hallucination—right away. He would plow through it and continue on his way after the two women. He would have his blades back, and he would stand over their bodies, laughing at their deaths.
It would be glorious.
He tripped, sprawling on the ground roughly. He felt hard rock against his face, his whole body in fact. He lifted his head, spitting the gravel out of his mouth. As he looked around, he realized that he was no longer in the forest. There were mountains, rocks, and the silence of desolation.
He rolled over onto his back, looking up at the night sky. There were stars there. No branches, no trees, no leaves. Just stars. And there, against the blackness of the sky, stood the dark tower. He froze, glaring at it as it mocked him. Its very presence mocked him. He felt the anger build up quickly, flushing his skin, making his blood boil.
The avatar had sent him here.
He roared in anger into the night sky, hearing it fade away into nothingness. He lay there, alone in desolation, with the dark tower looming above him. Enraged and confused, he wept, covering his face with his hands.
Come to me, Erenoth, the familiar deep voice echoed in his mind. Be my voice. Be my shepherd.
"Who are you?" the assassin shouted. "What do you want from me?"
Stand up and enter my temple, my friend. There you will find peace and purpose. You shall be my shepherd.
Erenoth sat up, rubbing his temples in frustration. The voice was obviously real, but its words made no sense to him. What shepherd? What temple?
"Tell me who you are," he whispered.
It is I, Dagda, the lifeblood of this land. I am the Dragon.
Chapter Nine
Odhran was the first to awaken. The aromatic scent of strong coffee roused him, and he opened his eyes and sat up, enjoying the pleasant smell. Finn was at the fire, boiling the beverage quietly in one of the pans that the cave had been stocked with. Evidently, the cave was a communal resting place, and it was stocked with amenities.
"Come, my friend," Finn whispered. "There's still a few hours until daylight."
Odhran stood and wandered over to the fire, stepping over Ivar, who snorted in his sleep. He sat down on another stone across from Finn, and the man poured him a cup of the hot liquid.
"Thyrean," Finn said, handing him the cup. "The best there is."
Odhran took a sip, and the bittersweet taste woke him up immediately. He smiled, raising the cup in thanks.
"Your friend Ivar is quite the rumbling beast when he sleeps." Finn said.
"I've noticed," Odhran replied, chuckling. "But if you can believe it, Freyja is even worse."
"Oh, that was her?" Finn said with a grin. "Just like my old wife, rest in peace."
Odhran took another sip. Finn was right, he noticed, it was the best coffee he had ever tasted.
"Tell me about yourself, Odhran. Where are you from?"
"Bralia," Odhran said. "The northernmost town along the main western road."
Finn nodded. "I've heard of it," he said. "One of the first villages destroyed by Captain Jarka. I take it your family was lost."
Odhran nodded sadly, seeing the faces of his little brothers and sisters as they were torn from his parents' arms.
"Sorry to hear that lad," Finn said. "That man was a beast. Just as much as his king."
"If not for Baleron, the rest of us would likely have tried to get revenge, and perished with our families."
"So he got you ranger lads from the survivors, then?"
"Yes. We were willing to fight, but he wanted to do it the right way. He trained us in the ways of the Alvar, those of us who had the skills to learn quickly."
"What were you beforehand? Was I right when I guessed before?"
Odhran nodded. "A trapper," he said. "And a farmhand. I caught the large game, helped with the crops, raised my…"
He trailed off, unable to continue.
"Sorry, lad," Finn said. "We've all lost loved ones. It's a difficult thing to deal with. Especially when it seems like there's nothing you can do about it. But you lads are doin' fine. Baleron is a good man, I can tell. These others are fine warriors, too. But I wonder why all of you are together. You all seem like a rather eclectic group."
Odhran opened his mouth, struggling to find some kind of answer that wouldn't reveal their intentions. Finn had already been told that they were traveling to Tel Drakkar, but that didn't seem like a good enough answer for the smuggler.
"I know something is happening in the north," Finn said. "Someone has stepped up and rallied the people. Large armies like that don't just form on their own, especially one comprised of three different peoples."
"Four, actually," Baleron said as he sat up. "The Alvar are with us, as well."
Finn nodded. "Then who is it that has taken command of this force?"
"A man named Dearg," Baleron said.
Odhran's heart skipped a beat, but Baleron sensed it and raised a hand.
"He is the grandson of King Daegoth," the older ranger continued.
Finn's eyes went wide, and he set his cup down, staring at Baleron speechless and slack-jawed.
"The Dragon returns?" the man asked.
Baleron stood, sitting on another stone by the fire. "Menelith, my Alvar friend believes so. Not only that, but that he is the Son of the Dragon himself. Before we left our encampment, he went to Dol Drakkar. We are traveling to Tel Drakkar to meet him, and try to convince the southern tribes to join our fight."
Finn rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. "They'll take quite a bit of convincing," he said. "They're rather crude, and don't take kindly to strangers going around saying they're the son of their god!"
"If they truly remain loyal to Daegoth, and are true worshipers of the Dragon, they will know he speaks the truth."
Finn sighed, shaking his head again. "I hope you're right, lad. For his sake, at least."
"That is why we need to get to Tel Drakkar as quickly as possible," Baleron said.
The old man nodded, nervously pulling his pipe out of his cloak. "Right, right," he said. "We'll have to sail around the coast. It's the only way. Any other way and you'll likely be too late."
"You have friends with ships?" Odhran asked.
"Aye. A lot of them. Pirates frequent that coast."
Odhran grinned at Baleron. The ranger chuckled.
"Odhran is glad to hear that," Baleron said.
Finn led the five friends down into the lower caves that headed toward the coast. There were many openings in the ceiling above that allowed sunlight to filter through, and the sunbeams illuminated the moisture that was in the air. They could all hear the rushing of water, and rumbling of a nearby waterfall.
"The underground river is below us," Finn said. "It spurts out of an opening in the side of the cliff and down toward the delta where the town is located. It's a nice port town that T'kar doesn't know about. He hasn't been this far east, other than last night, of course."
"I hope the townsfolk got away safely," Baleron said.
"They did," Finn said. "I heard them in the caves while you were all sleeping. They took another route, probably to Tannagard."
The caves opened into a large chamber, where the sound of rushing water was almost deafening. In the center of the chamber was a large opening crowned by rocks and other natural mineral deposits. There, a few feet below, the river rushed through. The five friends went to the opening to look down, all of them marveling at th
e sight.
"That's amazing," Alric said, leaning over the hole.
Ivar pushed him a little, and the Highlander let out a squeak, prompting the Northman to burst out in laughter.
"Ass," Alric cursed him.
"Be careful, little girl," Ivar jested. "You'll fall in."
"Ivar," Baleron scolded, shaking his head.
"Come on," Finn said. "It's not much farther."
He led them through another corridor with a downward slope. Here, the walls began to show signs of carving, and eventually became smooth and square. Ahead was another large chamber that was open to the east. Outside, the group could see the ocean, and hear the thundering of the nearby falls.
The rock had been carved into a flat platform with a short wall of piled stone at the rounded edge. At the north side, a stairway was carved into the cliff side, leading down the slope to the shore. There, in the midst of the rushing river that fell from the cliff side, was the city of Tannagard.
"It's beautiful," Freyja said, looking out over the calm blue sea.
"It's a fine sight, to be sure," Finn said. "And it looks like many of my friends are here."
Below, in the port, many tall ships were docked. Folk moved about them, treating them as floating markets and taverns, sharing their goods and stories with each other.
"Those must be the pirates," Baleron said, winking at Odhran.
"Pirates," Finn said. "Buccaneers, merchants, sea dogs and the like. My friends. Shall we?"
Tannagard was a city made mostly of stone quarried from the nearby cliffs; some of it left natural, but much of it painted in pleasing colors. It was built around the falls that broke through the cliff side, with rows and rows of buildings on either side. The port dominated the shoreline, and was interconnected with the city itself with walkways and open air taverns and other meeting places.
No one gave the friends a second look as Finn led them through toward the docks. Baleron noticed how clean and beautifully paved the streets were, and saw many children and elderly folk happily keeping things neat and tidy for all. Everyone in the town was armed, it seemed, and the guards paid them no heed, interacting with them normally.
It was an interesting sight, to be sure.
"They have a lot of weapons," Ivar said. "And the guards care not."
"There is much need for self-defense here," Finn said. "Invaders from the sea, the usual riff raff that comes to port. No one bothers anyone else because of it. No one is likely to start any trouble if everyone has the ability to kill them."
Ivar nodded. "That seems logical."
"Ooh," Freyja said then, gazing off into a small courtyard where a number of archers were gathered.
"The archery tourney," Finn said. "It happens daily. The winner gets nothing, so it's not worth it."
"Then what's the point?" she asked.
"Nothing but showboating," Finn said with a smile. "But no one really cares."
Finn led them toward the docks, where the crowd began to thicken. People of all types passed them by, and everyone was excited to see so diverse a crowd. Few of them had ever seen anyone but their own countrymen. Only Baleron and Ivar were familiar with some of them.
"Who are they?" Alric asked, pointing to some dark-skinned men with rounded head wraps and long beards.
"Those are Radhja," Baleron said. "Just like in Scarcliff. Protectors of the meek, and fine explorers. They serve the temples in Pishar and guard the pilgrims who come through to worship Imbra."
"And those?" he asked again, pointing to a few men in elaborate wooden armor with narrow eyes.
"Knights of Kinar," Baleron explained. "Servants of Yin-Kai, usually. But they look shady, those ones."
"Shady indeed," Finn said, laughing. "They like to trade lotus and silk, and they'll take just about anything for it."
"What is lotus?" Ivar asked.
"It's a flower," Finn replied.
Ivar shrugged, looking at Baleron for an explanation. He got nothing.
"Ah, here we are," Finn said, stopping.
"Finn!" a very dark-skinned man shouted with his arms wide.
He and Finn shared a manly embrace, patting each other on the back, both of them smiling widely.
"Neko," Finn said. "This is Baleron and his company; Alric, Ivar, Odhran and Freyja."
Neko nodded at them in turn. He was an interesting-looking character. His large brown eyes were doe-like, and the tangled mats of his black and brown hair hung down to his abdomen like the shag of a mammoth. Even his beard, also black and brown, hung low and was twisted.
"It's good to meet you all," Neko said. "How have you been, Finn?"
"I've been fine, my friend," Finn replied. "But I need your services at the moment. Is there a place we can talk?"
"Sure," Neko said. "We can talk on my ship. You are all welcome. Any friend of Finn's is a friend of mine."
Rian struggled against the cuffs that were tightly clamped around her wrists. She was chained to a thick post in the bowels of the bounty hunters' ship, imprisoned among the crew's stores, and a single, ragged old woman that had been captured for an unknown reason.
She tried to keep quiet as she worked the cuffs, not wanting to wake the other woman or alert the fat and ugly deckhand that occasionally came down to inspect the two prisoners. Rian had no idea why the old woman had been captured, but her own reason was enough for the hunters to travel all the way from Kinar to seek her out.
She smiled as she pictured herself taking the sacred gem from the palace of the Sun King and bringing it all the way home to Thyre, only to be captured before she even had a chance to sell it. Where she was now was anyone's guess.
"Keep it down, lassie," the old woman grunted, opening one eye to glare at her. "Ye never get 'way, so dint even try."
"Shut up," Rian whispered. "You'll rouse the guard."
"To 'ell with 'em. And ye too."
Rian shook her head, sliding the cuffs up the post so she could stand. The old woman watched her rise, scoffing and spitting.
"What ye think yer doin'? Ye never get 'way, I tells ye."
"I said quiet," Rian hissed. "Why don't you go back to sleep and mind your business?"
"Guard!" the old woman shouted.
Rian kicked at her with her left foot, but the old woman leaned away, cackling and revealing her toothless grin. Heavy footsteps sounded from the deck above, and Rian gritted her teeth in anger, glaring at the old woman.
"Now you've done it," she said. "He'll beat us both for sure."
The fat guard burst through the door of the cargo hold, wiping his filthy mouth as he squinted into the shadows.
"What the hell is going on down here?" he growled. "Keep it down or I'll skin both of you alive."
He was a man of Eirenoch, Rian realized. Why he was traveling with bounty hunters from Kinar was a strange revelation.
"Let me go," Rian said. "I'll pay you double whatever the bounty hunters are paying you."
The fat man approached smiling, his dirty lips dripping with the fat and juices of whatever he had been gnawing on above deck.
"Double eh?" he said. "Well, unless ye have a thousand crowns in yer pocket," he leaned in close, "No. Deal."
Rian's knee instinctively went up, bashing the fat man in the crotch. His eyes went wide, and he groaned as he stood suspended for a moment. She kicked again, and he feel forward, slumping onto her and sliding to the floor. The old woman cackled.
"Quiet," Rian said.
"Ye let me go too, eh?" the old woman said.
"Of course. Give me a moment."
She squatted down, moving her foot toward the man's belt. There hung a large key ring with what she hoped were the keys to the shackles. She put her boot through the loop, tugging it free with a jerk of her ankle. She sat down, bringing the key ring over to her hand, straining against the uncomfortable angle. With a grunt, she snatched it from her foot.
"Ooh, good," the old woman said.
There were three keys on the ring, and Rian t
ried each of them in turn. The last one seemed to be working, but the lock mechanism was rusted and stiff. At the angle she was turning it, there was not much room for leverage. There was a crunch as the cylinder scraped against the corroded inner workings, and the key slowly turned until the cuff popped loose. The old woman cackled again.
"Let me loose," she said, pulling against her chains.
"Hold on," Rian said, frustrated. "Keep quiet."
"Let me loose. Let me loose. Let me loose."
Rian glared at her as she stood and worked the key in the other cuff. It came off much more easily than the other, and she dropped it to the floor, squatting in front of the old woman. She held the key ring up in front of the old woman's face, dangling it just out of reach.
"I don't know why you're in here," she said. "But I can't let them take an old woman to who knows where. Here you go."
She dropped the key ring on the woman's lap, laughing as she began cursing. She turned and searched the fat man, drawing a dagger from his belt and rushing to the door. The old woman had reached the key ring, but was still cursing out loud. Rian hid behind the door, waiting for the other guard to descend. When she heard the angry banging of his feet on the stairs, she winked at the old woman, who cackled again.
"Helt," the guard said as he stepped into the hold. "What—"
Rian grabbed him by the neck, driving the dagger in his back. He struggled against her, but his small size was his doom. She pulled him to the floor, clamping her much stronger arm around his neck and squeezing until he was still.
She then smiled at the old woman as she stood, wiping the dagger off and stuffing it in her belt.
"Are you good?" she asked.
The old woman smiled as she dropped the cuffs on the floor. "Good 'nuff," she said. "Good luck to ye."
Rian nodded at her and bent down to search the guard. He was a wood-clad soldier of Kinar, likely a lower-level bounty hunter for the Sun King traveling with his higher skilled peers. She felt bad for the man, having not even reached the rank of ronin. But her own life was more important, and it still wasn't safe. She had to get out.
She took the guard's katana, which was somewhat similar in design to her own curved blade, and strapped it to her back. She drew it and climbed the stairs quietly, hoping the old woman wasn't going to immediately follow. Surely the woman would know to wait until the way was clear.
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