Omensent: Rise of the Shadow Dragons Read online

  Omensent

  Rise of the Shadow Dragons

  Book Two of the Dragon Lord Series

  By Barry A. Gibbons

  Copy Rights © by Barry A. Gibbons

  Omensent

  Rise of the Shadow Dragons

  by

  Barry A. Gibbons

  Copyright © License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Prelude

  The two great serpents blasted through the night sky above the Godstear Mountains, twisting and turning as they shot between narrow gullies and over unscaleable cliff sides. The lead dragon, a lean coal black beast with dozens of deep ragged scars crisscrossing its body, flew with desperation in a futile attempt to make its escape. The dragon in pursuit, a huge crimson beast, slowly overtook the smaller creature, its eyes locked on the fleeing serpent which was scarcely visible against the darkness.

  The scarlet dragon slowly overtook the smaller beast until it was flying directly above, then it suddenly tucked its wings and dove. The sound of the two serpents colliding resounded through the mountains. They fell through the air, ripping and tearing at one another with gnashing teeth and lethal talons.

  The smaller black dragon shrieked in pain and fury, belching fire directly into the scarlet serpent's face, but the larger beast ignored the flames and latched onto the smaller dragon's wing. There was a sickening crunch, and a wet tearing sound as the wing was ripped from its body, and the black dragon screeched in agony.

  The scarlet serpent suddenly released her grip on the smaller creature and flared her wings, slowing her deadly descent. The black dragon, unable to fly with only one wing, continued to plummet down towards the earth where it impacted on a steep ridge side with an earth shaking crash.

  The scarlet dragon slowly descended down towards the crippled creature, landing just out of striking distance, preparing to move in for the kill.

  "No!" The coal black dragon screeched in fear and pain. It was horribly injured, and bleeding freely from the stump that was once its wing. "Don't kill me!" It struggled to its feet unsteadily, but its legs were broken and couldn't bear the great serpent's weight. "Mercy! Show mercy!"

  The scarlet dragon snarled and drew back to deliver the death blow, then it suddenly stopped, its eyes calculating. "You wish mercy, Dark One?"

  "Yes! Mercy! I beg of you!" It finally gave up on trying to stand and lay trembling at the scarlet dragon's feet.

  "What are you willing to do if I show mercy?"

  "Anything!" The coal black beast shrieked in misery.

  The scarlet dragon towered over the creature ready to strike. "Then you must swear that you and your vile brood will depart from this world! You shall leave, and never return!"

  "Never!" The injured dragon roared.

  "Then you shall die!"

  The black dragon screeched again in helpless fury. "Wait!" It flinched back fearfully. "Don't kill me!"

  "Do you agree?"

  The black dragon lay gasping in pain for several long moments, then finally it grumbled, "I agree."

  "Say the words then!"

  "I swear in the sight of Draco that I will take my brood and leave this world!" The injured creature snarled helplessly.

  The scarlet dragon stepped back from the crippled beast. "Go then, foul one! Go and take your brood with you! Never curse this fair world again with your evil presence!"

  The black dragon shrieked in rage once more, then suddenly vanished into a thick black smoke which was quickly dispersed by the wind.

  The scarlet dragon roared an earsplitting roar of triumph, and then launched itself into the air and quickly disappeared into the night.

  Chapter 1

  Four thousand years later.

  Dawn broke early over the small mountain settlement of Sevria, a growing trade town nestled deep in the Godstear Mountains. It was the middle of winter and frigidly cold, and the landscape was covered in several inches of snow. The tall evergreens that dotted the valley around the town were heavy with ice, and glittered like diamonds in the early morning sunlight.

  Although it was still quite early, the small town was already bustling with activity as people went about their daily tasks, doing their best to ignore their frozen surroundings.

  An enormous castle, carved directly into the mountainside itself, stood watch over the lively town. It had tall spiraling towers and massive battlements, and the stone had been painstakingly polished to a mirror-like finish. It had been carved from the mountainside only three years earlier by the scarlet dragons as a gesture of thanks for their freedom. The towns folk, many of whom were survivors of dragon attacks, had dubbed it 'Serpent's Keep'.

  Damion Omensent, the lord and protector of Sevria, awoke with the bright morning sun glaring in his eyes through the large windows of his chambers, high up in the Serpent's Keep. He groaned as he rolled over in his bed and pulled the cover over his eyes. The idea of facing yet another day trapped in the castle seemed unbearable! A hundred tedious little details awaited him once he emerged from his bed chamber, and he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to face the endless hours that it would take to address them.

  He lay there for several more minutes before of heard the gentle flutter of feathers as an enormous snowy white owl glided into the room.

  "Are you still sleeping?" Snowfeather squawked loudly as he landed heavily on the bed. "Shouldn't you be up and playing 'Master of the Castle' by now?"

  "Ha, ha, ha." Damion grumbled out loud. He pulled the covers down and stared grumpily at his familiar. "At least you aren't expected to solve every little crisis that arises in the town!"

  "That's what happens when you become the leader of men." The huge bird chirped knowingly. "It falls to the leader to solve everyone's problems, even the ones that they could have solved for themselves."

  Damion sighed heavily, then slowly crawled from the bed. He stretched as he rose to his full height of just over eight feet. His heavily muscled body was sculpted from years of training with a sword, and his long flowing brown hair fell across his shoulders in a tangled mess. Despite his size, he looked completely human, save for one distinguishing feature. Beginning at each temple and moving across his brows to his forehead was a thick ridge of dark red scales, much like the scales of a dragon.

  Damion's bizarre appearance and enormous size were the result of an attack by a vicious group of dragonspawn on his mother while she was still pregnant. Dragonspawn were ferocious creatures distantly related to dragons. They were the result of a wizard's experiment gone horribly wrong centuries before, and now roamed the mountains in large packs preying on those whose path they crossed.

  His mother had been violated and severely savaged by the brutal creatures, then left her for dead, but she survived to give birth to Damion five months later. She died moments afterwards, leaving Damion to be raised by his father and Lady Skie Meadowdown, a long time friend of the family. The dragonspawn's attack left its stain upon Damion, marking him for life, and infusing his blood with that of the dragons.

  The attack had left its mark on Damion in other ways as well. At a very early age, he displayed the uncanny ability to use magic. After a number of spectacular mishaps, his father was forced to send Damion away to learn how to controls his powers. He traveled to a distant valley many miles deeper into the Godstear Mou
ntains with Lady Skie, where they lived in a large cottage with Lady Skie's father, Damarius, a strange old wizard who was well learned in the use of arcane forces. It was in that tiny valley that Damion grew up and learned how to manipulate and control his magic.

  He stared down over the growing little town as he slowly began to dress. It had been over three years since his father, Lord Michael Steelheart, had been murdered, and the town Sevria burned to ground by a dragon. Damion's life had changed drastically since that fateful day.

  He discovered that the dragon that destroyed the town, whose name was Tempest, was under the control of a enchanted gem that was in the possession of his father's murderer, a disreputable man by the name of Kaviel. The Dragon Gem, as it was called, had been created by a mad sorcerer who trapped the entire entire race of dragons inside of a gemstone which absorbed their magical essence to be used by whomever possessed the stone.

  Damion and a number of others traveled across the land in search of the Dragon Sword, the key to unlocking the Dragon Gem's power. They discovered the sword in the clutches of clan of trolls, then after Damion destroyed the clan, he and his companions continued on to the heart of the Endless Forest where the Tempest made her home.

  There was an epic battle between the inhabitants of the forest and the goblins and dragonspawn that were under the madman's command, and Kaviel was finally sealed alive in stone, though Damion lost the woman that he loved in the process.

  After much convincing by his friends and loved ones, and Tempest's own assurances that the dragons would never willingly harm an innocent, Damion joined the Dragon Gem and Dragon Sword, releasing the enslaved serpents back into the world.

  Since that day, Damion had carried the Dragon Sword. Although the dragons were now free of the gem, the sword could still control the mighty serpents, so he was careful to always keep close to him, determined that it never fall into the hands another madman.

  He slowly turned away from the window and slipped on his boots, then carefully strapped the Dragon Sword to his waist. He glanced at Snowfeather, who was perched on the edge of the bed preening his feathers. "Do you think anyone would noticed if I just locked the door and hid under the bed?"

  Snowfeather looked up from his preening. "You wish. I'm surprised someone isn't already pounding on your door over some insignificant issue!"

  As if on cue, there was a loud knock at the door.

  Damion shot the owl a dirty look as if the intrusion was his fault, then sighed and walked over to the door. There was a short wiry little man standing in the doorway, swaying slightly back and forth. His eyes were bloodshot, and his clothes slightly disheveled, but it looked as though he had made some attempt to groom his thinning hair and scraggly beard.

  "It's about time you got up." The little man grumbled.

  "Good morning, Sly." He looked his friend over. "Did you have a hard night?"

  Sly shrugged. "I don't know. I don't remember."

  Damion laughed, then shook his head. "I thought you had learned your lesson last time you woke up in the stables with that mule."

  Sly ignored him. "Are you planning on hiding in your room all day?"

  "I thought about it." Damion replied truthfully. "I'm growing a little weary of trying to solve everyone else's problems."

  "That's what you get when you're the leader of men. People actually have the nerve to expect you to lead. Don't know where they would get that idea from!"

  Gabriel Quickhand, or Sly, as he preferred, was one of his oldest and most trusted friends. He had taught Damion everything he knew about the art of combat, hunting, tracking, and the world in general. He had stood loyally by Damion's side during the hunt for his father's murderer, and was an crucial part of the rebuilding of Sevria. He was also a drunken lecher with little morals, and unquenchable fondness for dwarven ale.

  Damion followed the little man down the corridor to the dining hall where they found Lady Skie sitting at a table, sipping her tea contently.

  "Good morning, Aunt Skie." Damion greeted her as he took a seat across the table.

  Lady Skie smiled. "Good morning." She glanced at Sly, who had flopped into a chair and ordered a passing servant to bring him some bread and a pitcher of spiced wine. "What's the matter, Sly? Wake up in the stables again?"

  Damion laughed again, then began to eat from a platter of sizzling sausages and eggs that one of the cooks placed before him.

  "We have a meeting with one of the liaisons from Sierria today." Sly grunted, filling a large tankard with wine. "There's a caravan from the north that would like an escort through the mountains. The merchants in the caravan refuse to leave Sierria without some sort of protection."

  Damion sighed. The rebuilding of an entire town had been far more complicated than he had realized. After leading the refugees from Kaviel's rampage to the remains of Sevria, they began the lengthy process of removing the remnants of the old village and rebuilding. Survivors from all over the continent had fled into the mountains, and that first winter had been tough. Many were forced to stay in the castle, and extra food was scarce, but they somehow managed to survive. Now that they were reestablished, the caravans moving through the mountains from the port city of Sierria were their main source of supplies and revenue.

  "Why don't they hire some bodyguards?" Lady Skie asked as she sipped her tea.

  Sly shrugged. "Damion can ask that himself once the liaison arrives."

  It was nearly noon before the liaison for the city of Sierria finally arrived in the company of a number of badly injured soldiers, and he was immediately brought to meet with them in Damion's office where he conducted most of his work.

  The liaison was a tall thin man with a mane of shockingly golden hair. His face was clean shaven, and smeared with dirt. His ill fitting clothing was splashed with mud, and the poor man looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks. He stumbled into Damion's office, his face pale and his hands trembling. "Milord," He attempted to bow to Damion, but nearly fell.

  Damion rushed forward and caught the man, then carefully helped him over to a chair. Sly brought the man a large tankard of ale which he drained without pause.

  After a few moments, and another tankard of ale, his trembling subsided and some color returned to his face. "Thank you. I'm feeling a bit better now."

  "You and your men seemed to have ran into a bit of trouble." Sly observed blandly.

  The blond haired man snorted humorlessly. "Aye. There was a bit of trouble on the road. Dragonspawn attacked us four separate times during our journey. They just wouldn't give up!" He shook his head. "We managed to fight them off, but we lost several men in the process!"

  Damion and Sly exchanged looks.

  "I'm afraid there won't be any caravans moving though these mountains as long as those vile creatures continue to attack everything they encounter traveling on the trade route."

  "I wonder why they're becoming so bold all of the sudden?" Lady Skie mused. "Ever since the dragons were released from the Dragon Gem they've been rather docile. I wonder what's changed?"

  Sly shrugged. "It's hard telling what motivates those creatures."

  The liaison shook his head once more. "I've encountered dragonspawn before, and I've never seen them behave like this!"

  Lady Skie gave Damion a worried look. "What are you going to do about this? We can't just ignore this problem. Those caravans have to make it through these mountains. Something has to be done!"

  Damion nodded. "It looks as though I'm going to have to try and track these creatures down." He was secretly elated at having an excuse to get away from the castle for a while, though he was careful not to show this to the others. "I'll leave tomorrow. I'll try and discover what's going on and put a stop to it."

  Sly nodded. "I'll alert the captain of the watch. We'll take a dozen or so soldiers with us."

  "I don't think so." Damion shook his head. "There's no need. I'll go and investigate alone. There's no sense in getting a bunch of men killed. Besides, they would only
be in the way."

  But Sly steadfastly refused to allow him to travel alone. The next morning, Damion found him and the golden haired liaison saddled and ready to ride. He had also saddled Storm, Damion's abnormally large and aggressive warhorse.

  "That damned horse bit me!" The little man complained, giving the warhorse a nasty look. Sly had obviously made the decision that he was going to join Damion whether he wanted him to or not, so Damion decide not to argue.

  "He was just being playful." Damion laughed as he climbed atop Storm's back. "It means he likes you."

  "I could live with him not liking me so much."

  "It's a Deolan warhorse, is it not?" The pale faced liaison inquired.

  Damion nodded. "He was a gift from a friend." He gave the liaison a pointed look. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

  "Of course! Besides," The man laughed. "I'm probably better off traveling with you than with my men! I don't think they'd really be up for the fight!"

  They started off from the courtyard with Snowfeather gliding silently overhead, and made their way down into the small mountain town.

  Sevria had grown quite a bit in the three years since it had been destroyed. The refugees slowly rebuilt their lives, reopening their businesses and rebuilding their homes, and the town was soon bustling with life once more.

  Several merchants and townsfolk shouted greeting to them as they passed, and they were stopped a number of times before they finally made it to the trade road just outside of town. They slowly began making their way north, taking their time on the snow covered road to avoid injuring their horses.

  It was late evening when they finally stopped to make camp. Damion deliberately built up a large fire so as to make their presence known, then sat back and waited. They slept in shifts, each taking their turn in keeping watch over the camp, then after a long uneventful night, they picked up and continued towards the north.