Omensent: Rise of the Shadow Dragons Page 4

  Veren's eyes filled with tears, but he nodded his acceptance of her kind words.

  "If the shadow dragons have returned," She continued, looking at Damion with solemn eyes. "It will not be long before their infection spreads across the entire world!" Her face grew puzzled. "What I don't understand is how they returned! They swore an oath to Draco, the serpent god, that they would never return to this world!"

  Damion nodded. "We have been discussing this in your absence and it seems to us that their return coincides with my releasing your brethren from the gem."

  Tempest considered this carefully. "You may be on to something there. When you gave the command that allowed them to emerge from the gem, it must have also freed the shadow dragons from their oath to Draco!"

  Damion swore. "So I released them?" He looked around at his friends helplessly, then looked back up to Tempest. "If I'm the one who is responsible for their return, then I must be the one who puts a stop to their terror!"

  The scarlet serpent shook her head. "Nay, Dragonkin. Their fight is with us. It shall fall to my brethren and myself to face the dark brood."

  Damion refused to hear that. "I will not stand by and do nothing!" He declared with heat. "If I'm responsible for this, then I must help search out a way to destroy these foul creatures!"

  "You must prepare for what is to come."

  "And what is to come?" Lady Skie asked apprehensively.

  Tempest looked up into the night sky, and stared at the constellation of the serpent god. "I fear there are dark times coming. Shadow dragons and their minions delight in destruction. War will be coming, and worse than war!"

  "What do you mean, worse than war?"

  "If the shadow dragons have returned, every dark creature will rise from the underworld! There will be chaos on every continent, and there won't be any place safe from their taint!" She continued to stare up into the sky, her eyes lost in thought. "They only emerge at night, attacking without warning, and disappearing just as quickly. They're almost invisible against a clear night sky since their scales absorb light, and they rely heavily upon deception and trickery."

  "And where did the shadowspawn come from?" Sly asked, plopping down on a nearby stone bench.

  "The wizard who created the dragonspawn, also created the shadowspawn." She told him, her deep voice dripping with contempt. "He was seeking to create an invincible army. He first created the dragonspawn, using the blood of one of my brethren. He quickly realized that they were wild and untamed, and really not very intelligent, so he created the shadowspawn, using the blood of a shadow dragon." She snarled. "He wasn't prepared for what he unleashed. The shadowspawn were far superior to the dragonspawn, and just as vicious as a shadow dragon! It wasn't long before they turned on him and eventually destroyed him!"

  "What do you plan to do?" Dar asked his ancient friend.

  "I must gather my brethren and search our enemies out, and this time, we must be sure that they never return!"

  Lady Skie looked to Damion. "And you?"

  "I'm going to Jaghera to try to find some clues on where these creatures may be found."

  Veren flinched at the sound of his homeland. "Jaghera?"

  Damion nodded. "That's the last place we know a shadow dragon has been seen. Maybe if I nose around a bit, I may be able to locate others that have encountered it."

  Lady Skie did not look pleased. "Jaghera is nearly a thousand leagues from here! You can't just run off to the other side of the world!"

  "I haven't any other choice! These beasts must be stopped before they begin their war!"

  She stared at him helplessly.

  Damion sighed, then went and embraced her. "I'm sorry, Aunt Skie, but I must do this! It's my fault that this has happened, so I must be the one to correct my mistake!"

  She punched him in his muscular chest, her face still angry, then she threw her arms around him, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I know! I just don't like it!" She wiped her tears away. "When do you plan on leaving?"

  Everyone looked to him, their eyes questioning.

  "First thing in the morning." He decided firmly.

  Sly sighed heavily. "I'll make sure the stable hands know to have our horses ready at first light." He looked to Dar. "Will you be joining us?"

  Dar shook his head, then smiled broadly. "I've had quite enough of adventuring for a while. I think I'll stay here in Sevria and enjoy the leisurely life!"

  "Milord?" Veren asked with a desperate look on his face. "Please allow me to accompany you to my homeland! I wish to help stop these beasts!"

  Damion shook his head. "You are Captain of the Guard. We need you here to protect the people."

  "But I must go!" The dark skinned man pleaded. "It's the only way for me to avenge my family! Besides," He pointed out reasonably. "You'll need someone with you who knows the northern continent!"

  Damion looked uncertain. "Someone is going to have to stay behind and take up the protection of the castle."

  Everyone looked around at one another, then turned to look at Sly.

  "Oh no you don't!" The little man declared firmly, jumping up from his seat on the stone bench. "You're not going to leave me behind to do your jobs!"

  "Someone has to stay behind and run things here." Damion pointed out. "The people of Sevria know and respect you. They will follow you much quicker than they would Veren, who's only been here for a few weeks." He gave his old friend an apologetic look. "I'm afraid there isn't any other option."

  "And what the hell am I supposed to do if there's a problem?"

  Damion shrugged. "Have everyone fall back into the castle. In the meantime, I'd suggest reinforcing the outer wall. Have the masons build it up as high and thick as they can, and lay in a store of food in case of emergency."

  "With preparations like that, the people will know that there is something wrong. They'll want answers." Lady Skie had composed herself, and was now thinking quickly.

  "Then give them answers." He told them grimly. "The people should be aware of the danger, and some of them may have some ideas on how to help protect the town."

  "I can lend some aid." Tempest rumbled. "I shall have my brethren watch over this place in your absence."

  Damion smiled, then nodded his thanks.

  The great serpent rose to her feet. "I must go now. If you discover anything of significance, use the Dragon Sword to summon me." She looked around. "I must bid you farewell, my friends. There is much still to do." She launched herself into the air with a thrust of her powerful wings, then disappeared into the night.

  Damion looked to Lady Skie. "Do you think Damarius would leave the valley to come help look after things?"

  Lady Skie smiled. "He will when I tell him that I'll shave his beard off in his sleep if he refuses!"

  Damion laughed, then looked around at his friends. "That settles things then. I would suggest that we all get our preparations made."

  Sly gave him a dirty look. "I still don't see why I have to be the one to stay behind." He complained sourly. "I'm sure we could find someone else to look after things!"

  Lady Skie shook her head. "Damion was right when he said that the people trust you. You have to be the one that stays behind."

  He gave her a withering look. "Thanks for your help." He said in a flat voice.

  Damion looked at the little man and smiled. "Look at it this way, at least you won't have to explain to that mule why you are leaving."

  Chapter 4

  It was an hour or so until dawn when they gathered near the stables to say their farewells. The stable hands had readied the horses for their journey, loading down a packhorse with supplies and extra provisions, while Storm stood close by prancing eagerly, clearly happy to be free of the confines of the stables.

  Lady Skie's face was somber as she embraced Damion, who was dressed in the scaled armor that he had received as a gift from the King of the Dwarves, then she wordlessly stepped back as he climbed atop the prancing warhorse. She knew Damion better than anyone,
and she knew that arguing about his decision would be useless. He had made up his mind, and no amount of whining, screaming, or crying was going to make him change it, and though it made her sad, she understood his reasons for leaving.

  Sly, on the other hand, stood to off to one side with a sulky look on his face. He had made sure that Veren understood the consequences if he allowed Damion to be injured or killed, emphasizing his point with the edge of his sword against the dark skinned man's throat.

  Veren climbed atop a chestnut mare that had been prepared for him, glancing nervously from time to time at Sly, then waited for Damion to finish his farewells.

  Damion looked to his old friend and teacher. "You know what needs to be done?"

  Sly sighed, then nodded. "Aye. I'll take care of everything." He walked over and reached out and took one of his hands, grasping it fiercely.

  "And you?" Damion looked to Dar, who stood silently next to Lady Skie.

  "I'm going to pay a visit on your old mentor, Damarius." The red haired boy replied. "Lady Skie has asked me to deliver our request for his assistance, and then to assist in his travels back to Sevria." He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, my friend, we'll take care of everything here. You just keep yourself safe."

  Damion nodded sadly, then took one last look at his friends. Without another word, he nudged his prancing warhorse with his heels and led the way from the courtyard. He and Veren made their way through the sleepy town and out onto the trade road without being stopped, then cautiously began to make their way north with Snowfeather drifting high overhead.

  Their journey to the port city of Sierria was uneventful. For most of the first day, Veren remained silent and rode at a respectful distance behind Damion, obviously still a little uncomfortable being alone in his presence. They had spent very little time alone together since the bustle of the castle had made their spare moments few and far between. After several hours, Damion finally took steps and called him forward to ride beside him. It wasn't long before he was able to get the one eared man to begin talking, and they were soon swapping stories, making things much less tense.

  It took two days of easy riding to reach Sierria, and after asking a few of the locals, they soon learned of a wharf side inn called the Lost Wayfarer that was often frequented by many of the ship captains who made port.

  Damion drew the usual amount of stares and pointing as he passed, some from his slightly bizarre appearance, others from recognition. Damion ignored them all and continued through town until they found the substantial looking inn located only steps from the large dock.

  The sun was setting over the open sea as they tied up their horses to the picket outside, then Snowfeather sailed down to land gently on Damion's broad shoulder and they proceeded inside.

  The inn was a well built structure, with a polished wooden bar on one side of the open common room. The heavy tables and chairs were made from the same polished wood as the bar, and the stone floors were scrubbed scrupulously clean. In the far right corner of the room there was an elaborate staircase leading to the upper floors. The common room was crowded with sailors and ship captains that had made port, and though they were all a bit rowdy, none chose to bar their way as Damion and Veren made their way across the room to speak with the burly innkeeper.

  The innkeeper, and his short portly wife, seemed to be good hearted people who seemed to be unfazed by Damion's size, or Snowfeather's odd presence, but they insisted on reading from a long list of rules of behavior that they would not tolerate from their patrons. Finally, they rented them a pair of clean well tended rooms, but warned them that they not would tolerate any rule breaking in their establishment.

  The innkeeper's wife smiled sweetly up at Damion. "Will you and your companion care for dinner, milord? I've just pulled several plump geese from the ovens, and there's fresh bread baking as we speak!"

  Damion's stomach gave a load growl, and everyone laughed.

  "I'll take that as a yes!" She giggled as she bustled off to the kitchens.

  "Shall I have my boys see to your horses, milord?" The innkeeper offered helpfully.

  "Yes, please, and can you please have them take our bags to our rooms, if you would." Veren asked politely.

  "Of course. Will you need anything else?"

  "Ale. Lots of ale."

  The innkeeper laughed jovially. "Of course." He poured them two large tankards of ale.

  "Have your boys be careful around the big warhorse." Damion warned. "He's a little aggressive, and very free with his teeth. They won't want to turn their backs on him."

  There came a sudden yell from outside, and a teenage boy suddenly appeared at the common room door rubbing his backside and wincing painfully.

  "Never mind. I think they may have already figured it out." He gave the innkeeper a smile. "Maybe I should take care of him myself." He went outside and led Storm towards the stables with the innkeeper's sons thanking him many times along the way.

  After he had seen that Storm was well cared for, he returned to find a feast awaiting him at a table near the substantial fireplace. He fell into the succulent goose ravenously, and both he and Veren ate far more than they probably should have.

  Damion sighed as he sat back in his chair, his stomach feeling a little tighter against his belt. "That was even better that Aunt Skie's cooking." He commented after burping so thunderously that Snowfeather nearly fell from his shoulder.

  Many of the sailors nearby laughed with good humor, then turned back to their conversations.

  "I'll take that as a compliment to the cook!" The innkeeper laughed as he brought them two more large tankards of foaming ale. "I'll be sure to pass it on to my wife. I'm sure she'll be pleased!"

  Veren smiled and patted his stomach. "Please do. Your wife sets a fine table." He leaned forward and looked at the bury man seriously. "Tell me, do you happen to know of any ships that may be heading to the north?"

  The innkeeper turned around and looked out over the crowd. "Listen up, sea dogs!" He bellowed in a booming voice.

  The room fell silent and everyone turned to look at him with startled eyes.

  "Any of you heading to the northern shores?"

  "Aye!" Answered one sailor, a short man with long braided hair and meticulously groomed beard. "I'm heading north." He wore a bright blue vest adorned with large gold buttons, and a thick heavy gold chain hung to the middle of his paunchy gut. His extravagant hat was adorned with a long feather, and the bright blue eyes hidden beneath were shrewd and calculating.

  The innkeeper turned back to Damion and Veren and smiled. "Anything else, milord's?"

  Damion laughed, then handed the man several coins. He drained his tankard as he watched the man return to the bar, then rose to his feet and drifted over to the sailor with braided hair. "May we join you?"

  The sailor looked Damion up and down for a long moment, then waved several other sailors away and gestured to the newly vacant seats. "What can I do for you?" He asked, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

  "We're looking for a ship bound for Jaghera, or somewhere close by." Veren told him.

  The man smiled easily. "It's your lucky day then! I just so happen to have a ship and we're bound for Whilhom in Jaghera with a load of furs from the mountains."

  "Would it be possible for us to purchase passage for ourselves and our mounts?"

  The captain stared shrewdly at them for several moments, then nodded. "Twenty silver." He answered finally. "Paid up front."

  Veren started to object, but Damion cut him off. "Done. When do we depart?"

  "On the morning tide. We're docked right outside."

  Damion nodded. "We'll see you in the morning then."

  They met the captain the next morning at first light. Veren immediately tossed him a pouch of coins which the portly man caught with a smile. He reintroduced himself as Captain Harper, owner and captain of the ship The Fearless Lady. He gestured to the sturdy, but rather weathered looking ship, his face proud. "I know she doesn't look like
much," He said lovingly. "But she is the finest ship to ever sail these seas!"

  They led the horses towards the loading dock, then gently coaxed them aboard the ship and down to the vessel's lower deck.

  The captain's eyes grew large as Damion passed leading Storm by his bridle. "By the gods!" He exclaimed in disbelief. "I've never seen such a beast!"

  Damion laughed. "It takes a special horse to be able to carry me around."

  The captain looked him up and down. "I do believe you're right! It would take quite some effort to move you from place to place!"

  It wasn't long before they cast off from the dock and slowly moved out into the open water. The captain showed them to the surprisingly spacious quarters where they would be spending a good amount of their time for the next several weeks, then, after inviting them to dine with him for their meals during their voyage, he quickly returned to the helm and the responsibilities of running his ship.

  "How long will it be until we make port in Whilhom?" Damion asked, still trying to get used to the pitching and heaving of the deck beneath him.

  "About three weeks." Veren replied, climbing into one of the canvas hammocks that were firmly attached to the walls. "It's quite a distance from Sierria." He had a far away look in his eyes. "You must brace yourself for the northern continent. It is not like your home."

  "What do you mean?"

  The one eared man absently ran his hand over his bald head. "The northern continent is made up of six separate countries, each with its own customs, beliefs, and laws. Many of the countries are in a constant state of war with one another."

  "What is it like in Jaghera?"

  "Very orderly. The royal family has always been obsessed with order. That's why the top occupation in Jaghera is the army. It takes a lot of manpower to enforce their rules, and they have rules for everything!" He laughed. "The farmers are even expected to layout their farms in a specific design, and plant their crops in perfectly straight lines! The people have grown used to the royal families little quirks, and do their best to follow accordingly."