The Morgannate: The Dregian Chronicles Book 3

by D E Boske

  at a rapid pace, making them all proud.

  Renlyss was with child again and the powerful Mage held her close as they looked upon

  their children. In the vision, Darian looked directly at her, almost as if looking across time. Kelin-dril came up from behind her and the seer realized this was who Darian was looking at.

  For all the peace and tranquility, there was a darkness that permeated the elven home and made one feel like they were being watched.

  A rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike, lay not far from where Darian and Renlyss stood

  and the seer was certain this was a warning of dire import. Dark clouds rolled across the sky to

  hover over Kiri A’ Nouell, blotting out the sun and turning the day dark and foreboding.

  Something was crashing through the trees, moving faster than the eye could follow. Smoke rising from the border, whorled like a tornado, spinning and infiltrating the group. Kelindril began shouting and ordering Gor Li’ Khan to stand firm and protect Darian, his consort, and their children at all costs. A face began to emerge from the smoke but before she could see it clearly, something hit her hard in the back and knocked her off balance.

  An army of Dark Mages was moving through the surrounding countryside, approaching Kiri A’ Nouell and Nephraete felt sick to her stomach from the knot of fear in her belly. She didn’t recognize any of them, nor did she expect to. Their demeanor told her that they had come for one single minded purpose, to kill. The pull on the Weave as they began to cast, threw the closest elves off their feet, putting them at risk.

  Kyler was moving with the Dark Mages and Nephraete’s insides roiled at the sight. There must be an explanation. Kyler would never betray Darian. Would he? The seer thought, as she watched the horror unfold. Her lover moved unmolested within their ranks and there was only one reason why they’d allow him to do so.

  He brandished the elven sword, which glowed with an angelic blue light as he brought it to bear against the forest elves. They stood no chance against him, the sharp blade cut through them as if they were paper. Kyler’s handsome face twisted into a mask of pure hatred; his hands dripped with spilled elven blood.

  She collapsed into Kyler’s waiting arms and the worry on his face made her want to slap him as hard as she could. But she mustn’t let on that she knew he was the Khav Li’ Ohk. She must tell Darian as soon as possible. Now, how would she get away from the elven prince?

  “Little seer, are you okay?” asked Darian and she wanted to shout a warning but was unable to do so.

  Something she’d never seen before in Kyler’s beautiful eyes made her hesitate; hungry malice hiding near the surface, ready to strike. She felt sick with this knowledge but she knew they’d all be in danger if she let on that she knew. She threw herself into his arms and hugged him, even though she wanted to flee his presence.

  “You okay?” he asked, as his arms encircled her waist.

  “Oh yes. I just got really light headed and I felt like I was going to be sick. But I feel better

  now,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  “You better not be pregnant, babe,” he whispered into her ear. “We’ve made love every day since coming here,” he said.

  “No, I’m sure I’m not. Not to worry. I’m not ready for that, Kyler,” she responded.

  “Me neither. I want to be with you for a while before we take on that responsibility, love.”

  He never talked to her like that. Why was he being so obvious?

  “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me to show more affection in public?” he asked, perplexed by her reaction. Of course, he had no idea that she’d had a powerful vision and he had no idea what she’d seen.

  “I do, Kyler,” she replied. It took all her willpower to grasp his face and kiss him in front of everyone, as her hands dipped to stroke him urgently. She pretended it was Darian and was able to put on a good show, moaning softly into his mouth.

  They made it to the human town without further incident, the Mage attracting much attention but there was no help for it.

  “Oi! It canno’ be time for payment already, eh?” asked the Dockmaster, looking worriedly at the approaching group.

  “I’m not here about that, my good sir. Is there somewhere a bit more private that we can talk?” asked Darian and the Dockmaster’s eyes flitted nervously from Gor Li’ Khan to Mage and back again.

  “If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. I’m here for conversation, not to harm you, you have my word,” said Darian, his voice captivating and holding a bit of magic, if Kelindril’s guess was correct.

  “Please, step into my office,” said the Dockmaster, opening a well-worn wooden door, banded in iron.

  Darian followed him into the small space and Kelindril, Nymdal, Brandiel, and Tarathys followed, straining the already tight quarters.

  “Now, what can I do for you?” asked the Dockmaster, attempting to put as much distance as he could between them.

  “My name is Lord Beltran and you are?” asked the Mage, lying smoothly and convincingly. He doubted these people had seen a Mage of The Order in centuries and probably wouldn’t know one on sight.

  “Petrul at your service, Lord Beltran. What is it you think I can do for you?”

  “I need to book passage to the Haunted Lands. Do you know of a worthy captain who can make the journey?”

  “I… Er that is… there is no ship that will dock on her shores, good sir,” stuttered the Dockmaster.

  “Petrul, you and I both know you’re a liar,” chimed in Kelindril.

  “Kelindril!” the Dockmaster shouted in surprise, as the deadly elf materialized next to him.

  “Tell me why we’ve heard no word on this. The request is weeks old,” said Kelindril.

  “We were told not to pass along this request, Kelindril. No captain knows there is a paying customer waiting, I’m sorry,” said the Dockmaster.

  “On whose authority?” asked Kelindril, voice soft and deadly.

  “Thelarki’s, of course,” said the Dockmaster.

  “That order is no longer in effect, Petrul. Find me a captain that will take us across or feel my wrath,” said Kelindril.

  “I would like to, I really would, but Thelarki will kill me.”

  “And what do you think I’m going to do?” asked Kelindril, enjoying the Dockmaster’s unease.

  “What happened to Brogun? I secured passage aboard his vessel,” said Darian angrily.

  “Brogun? He’s gone. Left in the middle of the night a few nights back. Said he had urgent business to attend. I didn’t think anything of it; he comes and goes at all odd hours.”

  Darian began casting in low tones, his will too strong for the Dockmaster to ignore, his magic ensnaring the tall man effortlessly.

  “You will be well compensated for your help, Petrul. Thelarki will never know that you assisted us,” Darian’s voice was calm, soothing, and hypnotic.

  “Thirty thousand per passenger; that is my fee, for the added risk of course,” claimed Petrul. Darian’s eyes darkened dangerously and Kelindril readied himself for a fight.

  “That’s outrageous, Petrul and you know it. I will pay the captain one thousand gold for us and I offer you one thousand gold for your risk and no more. Take it or leave it but think carefully before you make your decision,” the Mage’s words held threatening menace and Petrul squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Kelindril’s blade on his neck.

  “One thousand gold it is! I was only joking!” he laughed weakly but he looked as if he was ready to faint, giving away the lie.

  “Good choice!” said Darian, as he clapped the Dockmaster on the back. “Now, when can you assure me that this will be taken care of? I am not a patient man.”

  The Dockmaster gulped and said, “I will put the word out immediately, but you must understand, these things take time.”

  “You have one week, no more. Do not make me come back here, Petrul. You won’t like it

  if I do.”

  “
One week, yes, yes, it can be done.”

  Darian placed a fat pouch of gold on the Dockmaster’s desk and said, “Half now and half upon completion of our agreement.”

  “Thank you, Lord Beltran! That is most generous.”

  Darian nodded and signaled to Kelindril that he was ready to go and the Gor Li’ Khan

  began to filter out of the tiny office. Petrul breathed a heavy sigh of relief once they were gone and worried over how to complete the task given to him. Thelarki would not be pleased and that could mean death for him. The Dockmaster had never betrayed Thelarki’s trust but the dark stranger was an immediate threat that could not be ignored and Petrul was ever careful.

  “That was an outrageous sum you paid, Darian. Why did you let him take advantage of you?”

  “I was happy to pay it and then some as long as he can complete my request and maintain secrecy. Thirty thousand was ridiculous and had he persisted; I would’ve killed him.”

  “A thousand gold for his trouble is ridiculous, Mage. I hope you know this,” said Kelindril acidly.

  “Of course I know, but as I said, I am more than happy to pay to insure we get to where we’re going,” replied Darian, as he lightly slapped the elf’s upper left arm.

  Kelindril just shook his head and dutifully walked alongside the Mage, watching their surroundings carefully.

  “We’ve got a runner,” warned Kelindril, drawing his sword as the rest of the Gor Li’ Khan readied themselves for confrontation.

  “Please! I mean ye no harm! I seen ye comin’ from th’ Dockmaster and I was hopin ye was as ye look. Er… that is… I was hopin’ yer a Mage O’ th’ Order?” the peasant’s brogue verifying low birth.

  “What is it that you think I can do for you?” asked Darian cautiously.

  “I be knowin’ dat yer a Mage O’ th’ Order and ye canno’ be denyin’ it, good sir! I ain’t been seein’ one o’ you’s in a good while but don’t mean I’m some kind o’ simpleton. Ye understand me, boy?”

  Darian almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the conversation. He looked the peasant up and down, trying to get a measure of him. He was older; if the Mage had to guess, he’d say in his late fifties. His hands looked gnarled from cheap, heavy labor and his back was

  bent.

  “I would never deem you a simpleton. What is your name?” asked the Mage and Kelindril couldn’t believe that Darian would even bother talking to this hind.

  “Me name be Karl, Lord Beltran,” he exaggerated the name and winked at the Mage and Darian laughed.

  “What can I do for you, Karl?” asked Darian, his mood sufficiently pleasant.

  “If ye be willin’, come and share a bit o’ crust and I tell ye what I be wantin’,” said Karl.

  48

  Darian followed Karl along the outskirts of the reputable town, to a grouping of rickety shacks that didn’t seem as if they’d last the night, let alone the next wicked storm that these parts were known for.

  Kelindril pulled the Mage aside hastily before he entered, “I have to strongly object to you going in there, Darian. You don’t know this person. What if he’s not who he says he is? What if it’s a trap?”

  “I think I’ll be fine, Kel,” responded Darian. “The smell of sickness is in the air. Can you not smell it? I think he brought me here to heal someone.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, Mage. He can’t afford to eat, let alone pay for your assistance.”

  “I would gladly help him for no payment at all, Kelindril. Am I so misunderstood that you think I care only for gold?” Darian sounded hurt but his eyes remained silvery grey, though they held no mirth.

  “Of course not! You already have too much that you’re responsible for. How can you even think of taking on more? Especially for a Chu La’ Payo,” said Kelindril, as he spat on the ground. “They are lower than vermin and will not be missed.”

  “If that were true, Kelindril, I doubt he’d care about whoever he’s brought me here to help, yes? He obviously cares for this person and so do I. I will help him because who else will? If it were you, would you want me to help?”

  Kelindril was adequately humbled and fell into step beside the powerful and unpredictable Mage. Karl held the door open for Darian and Kelindril followed without hesitation. The stench of sickness was heavy in the air and the battle-hardened elf clenched his jaw tightly to keep from gagging. It smelled as if someone had died already and the elf couldn’t believe that Darian was willing to lay hands on anything that smelled that bad.

  “Please! Please help her! She be all I have left,” cried Karl and Darian spared a glance at Kelindril who had the grace not to look as ashamed as he should feel.

  “Easy, friend. I will do what I can. Do you have fresh water and towels?” asked Darian, glancing around at the pitiful quarters.

  “I have nary o’ bit,” the gnarled man said.

  “Brandiel! Take this and see to it that you purchase plenty of food, fresh water, blankets, and anything else that you think they will need and be quick! I need supplies,” commanded Darian, as he handed over a ready supply of gold.

  Brandiel took the gold and a few Gor Li’ Khan and left quickly to fulfill Darian’s request.

  Darian sat on the edge of the bed and felt the fevered head of the older woman that looked sunken and hollow. She appeared to have been sick for a while now and the lack of food and water exacerbated her condition.

  Her eyes fluttered open and went wide at her visitor. “Oi! You’re a…” but the Mage cut her off.

  “Shh, rest now. I will do what I can to help restore you to your former beauty,” said Darian, running his hands through her tangled hair.

  “Thank ye’ sir! Karl be mighty worried over me and hasn’t been able ta work what with me sick’n all,” she replied weakly.

  “Not to worry, darlin’,” the Mage replied, smiling and making the older woman blush. “Before long, you will have food and water aplenty to urge you on the road to recovery.”

  “Kin I ask ye somethin’?” she asked, coughing and spitting up blood.

  “Of course,” said Darian, gently wiping her mouth with a kerchief from his pocket.

  Kelindril stood by and watched as the Mage attended to the woman; how gentle and caring he was and it amazed the Gor Li’ Khan leader. Karl stood close enough to the bed so that his wife could see him but not close enough that he was in the way.

  “Why’dya bother with an ‘ol thing like me? I’m sure ye have better things to be doin’, eh?” she asked, studying the handsome face before her.

  “I assure you, good woman, that you are worth saving,” he winked and she blushed once more.

  Brandiel and the others returned shortly afterward with a cart full of food and buckets of clean water and other supplies. Darian was pleased with the purchases and Brandiel nodded as he handed the small pouch of gold over to Darian.

  By the time Darian left the small hovel, Karl’s wife was resting peacefully in a clean bed. Darian had cleansed her body of all sickness and restored her health and vitality. He’d also healed Karl, though he fought the Mage at first, insisting that there was nothing wrong with him. Darian conveniently left behind a pouch of gold to make sure they’d have enough to eat for a while.

  Kelindril watched in amazement but remained silent. How much gold did the Mage have squirreled away that he could afford to give away so much? The elf just didn’t understand why he’d risked everything to save a couple that no one would miss. If they both died tonight, would anyone even notice? Kelindril doubted it. This was a whole new side of the powerful Mage that

  was as astonishing as it was refreshing.

  The Order portrayed their Mages as cold, ruthless, and abrasive, which Darian could be, to be sure. But to see him care about a stranger was kind of touching almost as much as it was disturbing. Darian caught him looking and smiled warmly at him.

  “Do my actions surprise you, Kel?” asked the Mage.

  “Yes, actually,” he laughed.


  “I’ve seen so much death in my lifetime that it sickens me, Kel. If I am in a position to prevent it, shouldn’t I do my best? I certainly have the means. I have more than I could ever spend in my lifetime, so why not help those less fortunate than myself?”

  “I just… You just don’t seem that cuddly, that’s all,” replied the Gor Li’ Khan leader.

  “Cuddly?” laughed the Mage, catching the attention of several women near him. Darian veered off the path to another street and Kelindril followed. The elf didn’t speak, knowing this was important by the way the Mage carried himself. He boldly walked into the small bank and demanded to speak with who was in charge.

  “What may I help you with?” asked a balding man, turning ashen at the sight of his visitors.

  “I’m here to pick up The Order’s payment,” said the Mage confidently.

  “I…Er…Of course!” he stammered, rushing to a room in the back. He came back about two minutes later.

  “Um, you may need to purchase something to carry it? There are many chests that we’ve been holding for you.”

  “Excellent! Thank you,” replied Darian cordially, signaling to Brandiel, who went with the owner to see the shipment in order to procure the proper transportation.

  Darian waited until the man came back out and said, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to check on Brandiel.”

  “Right this way,” said the gaffer, showing the Mage to the back room.

  Darian walked into a large room with fortified walls. Bags of gold lined the walls and trays lay in neat order with more coins broken down by denomination. The gaffer led them through a small door to another room where he saw Brandiel sorting and stacking numerous leather-bound trunks.

  “Darian, I’m not sure how we’ll transport all this? These will surely break even the sturdiest donkey’s back,” said Brandiel.

  “Not to worry, I know what to do,” replied the Mage, glancing in the direction of the gaffer who cleared his throat and left hurriedly.

  “What is all this, Darian?” asked Brandiel, looking at all the trunks.