“What by all that’s holy did you do?” Sarres said, his voice a gasping snarl.
“I warded the camp,” Gavin said. “You don’t need to set a watch; only those possessing wardstones can pass through the ward’s perimeter without dying. We’re also protected from the elements and a few other things. Look at each stone in the ring; you’ll be able to see the various protections by the runes on each rock.”
“Are we going to go through that every time we make camp?” Sarres asked, still almost glaring at Gavin.
Gavin shook his head. “No. From here on, we make the ring of stones and speak a command word to activate the ward. What we just did was embed the protections into each stone and link the ring to draw power from the ambient magic. Well, that and establish your wardstones.”
Gavin pushed himself to his feet and stepped outside the ring of stones. He ambled over to the felled tree that had served as his seat not too long ago, returned the tome he’d been reading to his satchel, and eased himself down to sit on the ground with his back resting against the tree trunk. Within moments, he was asleep.
Chapter 2
The capital city of Vushaar lay nestled against the base of the Sarnath Hills. It started as a mining town that over decades grew into a city, the realm taking its name from that long-forgotten settlement. Little remained of the mining town, and unlike its structured counterpart to the north, Vushaar’s capital expanded through organic growth. Out of historical significance, the original city walls—which were over seven thousand years old—remained and were well-maintained; the succeeding city walls were torn down as each new wall was built for the city.
The royal compound sat in the heart of the Old City, as residents referred to the portion of the city inside the original city walls. The compound consisted of a plaza just inside the gate, with a fountain to the east and a medium-sized park to the west. South of the plaza stood the royal palace. The royal palace served as both residence for the royal family, barracks for the Cavaliers assigned to security, and the offices and meeting rooms necessary for the government to function. A tower-like keep rising off the western side of the palace served as the actual royal residence, containing a private library, several studies and bedrooms, a dining hall for state functions, and a private dining room for the royal family.
Terris Muran stood at the north-facing window of his preferred study, gazing out over the city below. A man of average height and medium build, Terris’s deep brown—almost black—hair was shot with gray and white strands, as was his well-groomed beard and goatee. The window was his favorite place to look at the city his family had called home for millennia.
The view was marred by the large encampment north of the city, the primary siege camp of Sclaros Ivarson’s army. Soldiers and slaves toiled long into twilight building fortifications, siege engines, and lines of both contravallation and circumvallation. Terris wasn’t the military authority his remaining generals were, but he estimated it would be less than a month before the siege was established.
“Your Majesty, the serving staff informs me you haven’t eaten since this morning,” a voice worn with age said from over Terris’s shoulder.
Terris recognized the voice and turned to face Q’Orval deBentak, his chief of staff. Q’Orval had served the Muran line since he was a boy, starting off in the royal stables and working his way up to be the King’s right hand.
“Q’Orval, the siege is well and truly starting. How are the city’s granaries? Did we get them topped off in time?”
Q’Orval nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. The city is well supplied to survive a siege.”
“Did Roth and his people get out of the city? I’m not about to pay for the return of my daughter, even if she’s the only child I have left after losing Kiri.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Roth and his troublemakers left the city by the south gate earlier this morning. The Cavaliers are still investigating how Kaila was abducted from the palace; as you know, sire, they would’ve sworn it was secure. While we’re discussing family, sire…”
“I know, Q’Orval; I know. The Privy Council wants me to name Kaila as the Crown Princess…or take another wife. I’m not ready to do either just yet, since we’ve no idea how this rebellion will end. Ideally, I’ll still have the throne, but we don’t know that.” Silence descended on the study for several moments before Terris sighed and looked away. “I’m not sure that Kiri ever forgave me for that indiscretion with Cally.”
Q’Orval took the few steps necessary to bring him within arms’ reach of the man he’d watched grow into being one of the finest kings of the Muran line. He placed his hands on Terris’s shoulders and forced Terris to face him.
“Terris, it wasn’t an indiscretion, and Kiri was too young at the time to understand.”
“I miss her so much, Q’Orval,” Terris said, his voice soft. “I should never have sent her away to Tel.”
“We all miss Kiri, Terris. She was such a kind and happy soul; she enriched all those around her.”
Silence descended once more and remained until it almost became awkward. Terris shook himself and took a deep breath, saying, “Have you eaten yet?”
“No, sire.”
“Care to dine with me?”
Q’Orval smiled. “Of course, sire.”
Chapter 3
They were eight days out of Tel Mivar, traveling along the old trade route between Tel and the dracons, and they reached the end of the road…literally. A placard stood in the center of where the road stopped.
“‘Mivar Province ends here. Travel farther at thine own peril,’” Gavin said, reading the placard. “Well, now…that’s encouraging, isn’t it?”
“We are near the border between Tel and Dracon territory,” Lillian said. “In truth, the border is an hour or so farther on, given the speed we’ve maintained, but having logging parties and hunting camps any more eastward simply invites attacks. The last few dozen years, there hasn’t been enough income from the area to warrant the risk of being even this close.”
Gavin frowned. “From everything I’ve read, the dracons are members of the old alliance. Why would they attack?”
“When the royal line resumed civil authority over Tel,” Mariana said, “the dracons withdrew from the world and closed their borders to everyone. They gave no explanation or even waved goodbye as they left. Since then, this region of Mivar Province has been something of a neutral no-man’s-land, just to keep the peace.”
Five hours later, the light was fading early, thanks to a stormfront blowing in off the Inner Sea to the west. Rather than try to push on in the coming storm, they chose a campsite on the bank of a small stream running out of the Godswall Mountains to feed a meager amount of water to the Inner Sea. By now, the ritual of setting up camp was second nature, and within no more than a half-hour, the camp was stocked, the wards up, and everyone was eating an early dinner. Once the dinner was over, the wizards moved off to one side to continue their nightly lessons while Elayna, Sarres, Kiri, and Declan conversed between themselves.
The study session lasted an hour at most, but that was more than sufficient for the four ‘students.’ Gavin had a way of packing more learning into an hour than most instructors at the College could manage in a month. After the session, they re-joined their comrades around the fire.
“What do you guys make of the light show off to the west?” Gavin asked as he sat on a felled log beside Declan.
Everyone turned to look that way, but the humans saw only dark storm clouds and lightning. The elves frowned.
“It looks like one of the Inner Sea’s more vicious storms,” Elayna said. “I can see the turbulent waves from here.”
“What do we need to do to prepare for it reaching us?” Kiri asked, her manner tense and her expression worried.
Everyone turned to Gavin, who shrugged and said, “It would take a significant storm to get through the wards. We’ll be dry throughout the night, and as long as we keep the fire fueled, we’ll be warm as well.”<
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Sounds of not so distant thunder reached the camp. Gavin could see Kiri tense with each rumble. Gavin sat watching the last rays of sunlight fade into twilight, but it was far from dark. Lightning strikes lit up the night almost bright as day.
Everyone else headed to their bedrolls and tents, but Kiri sat rigid on the felled log she had occupied all evening. Wherever she was in her mind, Kiri was not the woman Gavin had come to know. As Gavin looked at her, he saw only a woman grappling with a very basic fear...or at least something terrible that the storms brought to mind...and was vulnerable for it.
Gavin stood and walked across the camp to sit beside Kiri, barely a foot from her on the same log; she didn’t seem to register his presence. He gave her a few moments, but when Kiri remained absorbed in whatever she was reliving, Gavin leaned close to speak.
“You look like you could use a friend,” Gavin said.
Gavin’s voice pulled Kiri out of whatever dark place she was experiencing, and she turned her head toward him. Gavin knew in that instant she was vulnerable. In her eyes, he saw none of the strength, the poise, the resolve he had come to associate with Kiri. In that place, in that moment, Kiri was just a young woman.
“You’re one of the very few people I’d term a friend, Gavin,” Kiri said, and Gavin could hear her unease in her voice. The echo of a not-too-distant thunderclap echoed across the camp, and Kiri tensed.
“Do you want to talk about whatever’s on your mind?”
“I don’t like storms,” Kiri said. “It sounds silly, I know, but I never have...not since I was very little.”
Kiri took his right hand in both of hers. Gavin could feel how she almost clutched his hand, like she was afraid she might fall.
“My mother died when I was very young, and to the world at large, she died of a disease that was sweeping through the capital at the time. That wasn’t the case; she was murdered. I don’t think I will ever forget that night. Mother was reading to me, trying to help me sleep. We were in the nursery. Lightning flashed. There was a man in the room, and he had a blade. Mother set me down, told me to run, find my father. I ran, but I looked back when I got to the door. I wanted to be sure my mother was with me, but she wasn’t. She was moving to block the man, fight him I guess. The man stabbed her twice with the blade—short, precise strikes—and my mother crumpled. Lightning flashed again. I saw blood dripping from the blade, and I screamed.”
Kiri stared off into the night as she spoke. Tears filled her eyes.
“One of the nice guards who always followed me came into the room, and he put himself between me and the man. He told me to run, but I couldn’t pull my eyes off my mother lying on the floor. I heard sounds of fighting. The guard was keeping the man at bay, shouting for me to run. He didn’t survive long, but he fought long enough for my father to arrive with many guards. I was almost ten before I spoke again.”
Kiri turned her head and looked up at Gavin.
“That’s one of my earliest memories, and storms always take me back there. I can’t help it. I try to fight it; I really do, but I always relive that night during the worst storms.”
Gavin sat in silence for several moments while Kiri held his arm. He didn’t miss her use of the words ‘guard’ and ‘guards,’ but he didn’t think it was the right time to ask why she was surrounded by guards during her childhood. Finally, not knowing what else to do, Gavin nodded.
“Getting sleep will be tough for you tonight?” he asked.
Kiri flinched at a sudden, fierce crackle of thunder overhead. “I doubt I’ll sleep at all tonight.”
“Would it help you to move your bedroll beside mine? I’m not playing games, I promise.”
Despite her frame of mind, Kiri smiled. It was a warm, heartfelt smile. “Gavin, you’re such a good soul with a kind heart, I don’t think you know how to play those types of games.”
Gavin nodded his head toward the bedrolls. “Come on. Let’s see if you get some sleep tonight after all.”
While Kiri worked on moving her bedroll over beside Gavin’s, Gavin walked over to the group. As he approached, everyone turned to him.
“Kiri’s having a really bad time of it because of this storm. I know it looks bad, but she’s going to lie down beside me.”
Elayna was the first to speak. “Is there anything we can do for her?”
“I doubt it,” Gavin said. “The source of her pain is an old wound, and I would explain, but I don’t feel it’s my place to talk about it.”
Gavin waited for the others to speak up, but when they seemed content to keep their silence, he turned and walked back to his bedroll. Kiri already had hers laid out beside his, but she stood beside it with her arms folded across her midriff.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked as she nibbled at her lower lip.
Gavin attempted a reassuring nod as he said, “I know I’m not going to try anything, and I doubt you will, either. Besides, if this is best chance you have of getting some sleep, I’ll find some way to survive it.”
Despite another rumble of thunder, Kiri grinned just a bit.
Gavin stretched a couple times before laying down on his bedroll, and he soon found Kiri beside him. At first, Gavin was going to lay with his fingers laced across his chest, but Kiri’s determination to use his shoulder for a pillow convinced him otherwise.
Boy oh boy, Gavin thought as he lay there, this is going to be a long night.
Chapter 4
Gavin felt himself being shaken, and he wondered why Kiri wasn’t laying beside him anymore. He rolled over and pulled his blanket closer against his neck. Voices spoke, but Gavin didn’t care. He was warm and comfortable and wanted to sleep more. Then, a voice cut through the mental fog of sleep.
“Gavin, I need you to wake up,” Kiri said. “I’m afraid.”
Gavin’s eyes shot open, and he was on his feet faster than the others had seen him move. His right hand curled as if holding an apple, and a slight tension around his eyes indicated his concentration as a pin-prick of light appeared above his right palm and grew in size.
“What’s wrong, Kiri? Why are you scared?”
Gavin then took in his surroundings, and he saw that everyone seemed tense and were looking at him. No. They were looking to him for guidance and leadership.
“Look over my right shoulder,” Kiri said.
Gavin did so and saw three people standing at the edge of the wards closest the foothills. The smallest of them looked about Braden’s height and build, wore a hooded cloak pulled close, and carried a quarterstaff. The two flanking the smallest wore half-plate armor; they stood head and shoulders over the smallest between them, with powerfully massive builds to match, and they bore large swords strapped to their backs.
Their exposed flesh had no visible skin but were covered in scales, and the hands of the two taller individuals did not have fingernails. Each digit ended in a claw sized to match the digit from which it extended, and even as far away as Gavin was, those claws looked sharper than razors. They had snouts of varying lengths, and Gavin could see a pair of nostrils at the tip of their snouts and a thin line Gavin suspected opened to a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.
Gavin then directed his attention to Mariana and lifted his left eyebrow in question.
“Yes, Gavin,” Mariana said. “They’re dracons.”
Gavin scanned his apprentices and saw—like him—each hid their medallions inside their traveling clothes. He took a deep breath, releasing it as a slow sigh, and nodded. He squared his posture and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then approached the trio.
“Greetings and well met,” Gavin said as he neared the edge of the wards, making certain to remain inside. “We’re traveling to Vushaar and stopped here for the night. May I offer you the hospitality of our morning meal?”
“We appreciate the invitation,” the center Dracon said, her voice sounding female to Gavin, “but we have broken our fast already today. We seek the creator of these wards.”
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��Is that so,” Gavin said, making it a statement. “May I ask why?”
The two Dracons carrying swords glanced to one another over their fellow’s head.
“We seek that person’s assistance,” the center Dracon said. “It is…a delicate matter.”
Gavin reached for the silver chain around his neck, grasping it and withdrawing his medallion from inside his tunic. He dropped the chain so that his medallion rested atop his sternum and stood in silence.
The Dracons’ eyes moved to the medallion and widened. The tall Dracon on Gavin’s left let out a little gasp, and all three dropped to one knee without hesitation.
“Well, that’s new,” Gavin said, his voice soft. In his normal tone and volume, he said, “Please, stand. I don’t want people kneeling to me.”
“But you are of the Liberator’s House,” the shorter Dracon said. “It is decreed throughout our people that those of your family are to be accorded our highest honors.”
“Liberator?” Gavin asked, frowning in confusion before looking over his shoulder. “Mariana?”
Mariana walked to Gavin’s side, saying, “Yes, Gavin?”
“Do you know anything about a Liberator? I’ve not come across that reference.”
The dracons stood and, before Mariana could speak, the small dracon said, “I am Xask of Clan Qar’Kirloth. During the Godswar, He Who Dueled Milthas led the assault that freed my people from their slavery to Lornithar and his minions. We honor him in our histories as the Liberator.”
“Xask, I am Gavin Cross, Head of House Kirloth.”
“I beg you, Scion of the Liberator, please return to Qar’Zhosk with us,” Xask said. “We are in dire need of your help.”
“First, let’s clear up that ‘Scion of the Liberator’ business. I am not in Kirloth’s direct line. My ultimate ancestor was Gerrus, his brother.”
“Gerrus? You are of Gerrus’s line? How did you come to be here, when he left with the refugees?”
Into Vushaar Page 2
