Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God Page 5

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  It was nearly a month before Dar finally returned from Sierra. It was late evening when he suddenly burst into Damion's office, his boyish face flushed with excitement. "I've got news!"

  "It's about time you got back!" Sly complained, looking up from the stack of parchment that he, Damion, and Damarius had been studying. "We was beginning to believe that you were never going to return!"

  "It took Fedrio some time to weasel his way into a position that he could spy upon Ickor without being too obvious about what he was doing."

  "And what did he find?" Damion asked eagerly.

  "Ickor is definitely the one who is transporting the weapons. He's been hiding them among his other goods, then sending them in caravans containing only his wagons to insure that no one stumbles across them by accident." The childlike sprite climbed into a chair, then glanced over to Sly, who was waiting expectantly for him to continue. "Why don't you get us some refreshments." He suggested to the little man. "I haven't had anything to eat or drink in two days."

  Sly scowled at him momentarily, then hurried to the door and ordered a passing servant to bring them food and drink. He hurried back to his seat, and waited for Dar to continue.

  "A couple of nights ago, Fedrio appeared at the inn I was staying. Apparently, he had finally stumbled upon some information on where the weapons were being brought in from. He happened to overhear one of Ickor's teamster's make a mention of picking up a load of goods from the docks. After a little investigating, we discovered that the weapons were coming in on a ship from the far east country of Sherish."

  "That explains why the weapons were so shoddily crafted." Damarius commented, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "They are gnomish made. Sherish is the ancestral home of the gnomes."

  "Gnomes?" Damion asked in surprise. "Those weapons were made by gnomes?"

  Dar nodded. "It appears that way. It explains why they are of such poor quality. The gnomes are notorious for producing inferior goods."

  "I've never seen a gnome before. What do they look like?"

  "They're ugly little creatures that are even smaller than dwarves. They stand perhaps two feet tall, with olive green skin and huge bulging eyes. They're clever little creatures that can reproduce virtually any contraption that they lay their eyes on, though they tend to use whatever they happen to have on hand to build their wares." He snorted in amusement. "I once saw a gnomish sword that had been crafted from glass. It shattered the first time it struck a normal sword!"

  "I'm surprised I've never seen a gnome." The huge warrior grunted thoughtfully. "Are there many of them?"

  "Thousands." Damarius snorted in amusement. "Those creatures breed like rabbits. They live in huge colonies made up mostly of craftsmen who spend their days making inferior goods, or creating new contraptions that usually end up killing themselves and their kinsmen. I'm not surprised that you've never encountered one, though. They rarely leave their homeland. They seem to prefer remaining in their colonies, dreaming up new ways to blow themselves up."

  "Once Fedrio and I located the ship," The fiery haired boy continued. "we waited until they finished loading the weapons onto wagons, then I followed them out of Sierra and into the mountains. Once they stopped to rest for the evening, I'm snuck into their camp and peeked into their wagons." He grinned. "They were all packed full of weapons."

  "So all of your lounging around in Sierra finally paid off." Sly grunted. "It's about time. I was beginning to suspect you were just lingering in Sierra because some girl had drawn your fancy."

  "Where is the caravan now?" Damion asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

  "About five miles to the north. They stopped to rest in one of the campsites built along the trade route. I figured I would hurry on ahead to report what we had discovered."

  A servant appeared with a tray of sliced meat and cheese and a large pitcher foaming of ale, which he placed on the table before Dar. The childlike sprite speared a slice of meat with a small knife he produced from his tunic, and stuffed it into his mouth ravenously.

  "Now it's just a matter of following the caravan to its destination." Sly said in a satisfied tone, helping himself to a tankard of the foaming ale. "They should lead us to whoever is behind the shipments. I imagine it will be a simple thing to discover what the weapons are intended for then."

  "We still don't know who hired those highwaymen to ambush Ickor's wagons." Damarius pointed out. "Someone out there has been trying very hard to make sure those weapons never reach their destination." He glanced at Damion. "How do you wish to proceed?"

  The huge man thought about it for a moment. "I think I'll take Dar and Shirk, and follow along behind the caravan, hanging back a few miles to avoid being seen. If we're careful, we should be able to follow them all of the way to their destination. Once we identify who is behind the shipments, we should be able to figure out who is trying so hard to stop them."

  Everyone gathered in the guardhouse above the gates leading into Sevria early the next morning to await the arrival of Ickor's caravan. Several wagon trains appeared in the distance around mid morning, but Dar shook his head, indicating that they didn't belong to Ickor's caravan. The wagon train finally appeared around mid day, sluggishly making its way down the well maintained trade road towards the city. The wagons were all being pulled by slow moving oxen, and covered with thick canvas which concealed their contents from prying eyes.

  "It's about time they got here." Sly complained, watching as the wagons slowly lumbered their way down the road. "I was beginning to wonder if they had decided to turn around and head back to Sierra."

  The wagons were all flanked by rough looking mercenaries who rode next to the caravan, their hands on their weapons, and their eyes alert for danger.

  "Those are a lot of mercenaries for such a small caravan." Veren pointed out shrewdly.

  They watched as the wagon train drew closer, then to their surprise, continue passed, avoiding Sevria all together.

  "Now that's a surprise!" Raven exclaimed, watching the wagons as they slowly rumbled passed. "Caravans never bypass Sevria."

  "It looks as though they are trying to avoid anyone discovering the contents of their wagons." Damarius's eyes were lost in thought. "They're not taking any chances on losing this shipment. Word must have reached them that the last shipment never reached its destination."

  "That would explain the mercenaries." Damion nodded in agreement. "Ickor must have hired them to help protect the caravan from more bandit attacks."

  "So what's your plan?" Sly asked as the wagons disappeared into the distance.

  The huge warrior shrugged. "We're going to follow them. They'll eventually lead us to whoever is behind the shipments."

  "Can't you have Sly, Dar, and Shirk follow them?" Raven asked in a slightly pouty voice. "You do have a wife and daughter waiting on you here at home, in case you had forgotten."

  Damion smiled. "Of course I haven't forgotten," He drew her close. "but this is important, and I want to make sure that we don't wake up one morning to find out that there is an army sitting outside of our gates."

  The young woman frowned. "I'm going with you, then. Sly can stay here with Damarius and Veren to look after the castle, while you, Dar, Shirk, and I follow the caravan. I'll ask Lady Skie to care for Leia while we're gone. I'm sure she'll be happy to help."

  "I suggest you go and make your arrangements then." The old wizard suggested. "You don't want the caravan to get too far ahead of you."

  "The horses are already saddled, packed, and ready to go." Dar chirped helpfully. "I'll have the stable boys prepare Raven's mare, while you hurry up to the castle to speak with Lady Skie, and kiss your daughter farewell, of course."

  Damion and Raven hurried up to the castle to find Lady Skie and their daughter playing together in the nursery adjoining their private chambers.

  "We have had a slight change in plans." Raven told Lady Skie as she scooped Leia into her arms. "I've decided to accompany Damion, Da
r, and Shirk as they follow the caravan of weapons through the mountains. I was wondering if you would look after Leia while we were gone?"

  Lady Skie smiled. "Of course I will, dear ones. I enjoy spending time with our little one. How long do you plan on being gone?"

  "It may be a few weeks before we return. We haven't any idea of wagon train's destination, and this may be the only chance we get to find out exactly what those weapons are intended for."

  "Sly can handle anything that may come up while we're gone," Damion assured her. "and I'll ask Veren stay close by in case you need him."

  "I shouldn't need him." Lady Skie took a sip of her ever present tea. "Little Leia is an angel compared to you when you were her age." She gave the huge warrior an amused look.

  Damion laughed. "I bet she smells better than I did, too." He went to his daughter, who was happily watching him from her mother's arms. He leaned in and gave her a kiss on her nose. Leia giggled, then threw her arms around him and nuzzled him close.

  "Don't worry about anything here." Lady Skie told them reassuringly. "Just be sure to take care of yourselves, and come back to us safely."

  After saying their farewells, and smothering their giggling daughter with more kisses, they hurried back towards the stables. They ran into Veren along the way, who also heading toward the stables to see them off.

  "I want you to stay close to Aunt Skie and Leia while we're gone." Damion told him as they hurried through the castle. "I want to make sure that my daughter is safe while we are gone."

  "What could possibly happen to her?" The one eared man asked with an amused snort. "She's in a castle surrounded an entire village of people who adore her. Besides, her father is the Dragon Lord. Everyone knows that you would tear this world apart if someone was to harm her. She's probably one of the safest people on the continent!"

  "Never the less, I want you to stick close to them, just in case."

  "I'll make sure that they remain safe. You know that I'd give my life for that little girl if I had to."

  Damion smiled gratefully. "Thank you, my friend. I'll rest easier knowing that you are watching over her."

  They found the others waiting for them outside of the livery.

  Sly stood next to Storm, holding the warhorse firmly by the bridle, an angry expression on his scruffy face. "This damned horse bit me again!"

  Damion rolled his eyes. "When are you going to learn not to turn your back your back on him?" He gave the shaggy stallion a hard look. "Didn't I ask you to stop biting Sly? You know he'll whine about it for the next month!"

  Storm looked away innocently.

  "I'm going to start muzzling this beast before getting near it for now on." The little man threatened, handing Damion the reins, then scampering out of reach in case the enormous warhorse attempted to bite him again.

  "He's only being playful." Raven defended the great brute, who nuzzled at her gently. "It's his way of showing you that he likes you."

  "I can live without him liking me so much."

  "That caravan is several miles ahead of you by now." Damarius reminded them, trying to hurry them along. "You had better get moving. You don't want them to get too far ahead of you."

  "Make sure you keep an eye on Leia." Damion reminded Veren.

  "If anyone wants to get to her, they'll have to kill me first." Veren pledged solemnly.

  "We all know what we have to do." Sly told him in exasperation. "Just get yourselves moving, and make sure that those teamsters don't realize that you're following them. This may be the only chance we get to find out what all of those weapons are intended for."

  "We're heading out, Snowfeather." Damion cast his thought to his familiar as he climbed atop his prancing stallion. "Are you planning on joining us?"

  "Of course." The huge owl suddenly appeared from the castle battlements, and drifted down to circle over their heads. "You'd probably get yourself killed without me."

  They set off through town, stopping only once to allow the castle soldiers to break up a fight that had broken out in a tavern, and then spilled into the street. Once the street had been cleared, they continued out of the city, and headed south on the trade road.

  They hadn't made it but a few hundred yards, when Slither appeared from the shadows of the forest.

  "It appears that your pet lizard needs to speak with you again." Shirk told Damion, gesturing to the shadowspawn that was rushing across the open field that lay between the forest and the trade road.

  The one armed beast came to a stop a dozen or so paces away, then fell to its knees. "The ssspawn hasss done what you asssked, Massster, but the humansss have already begun to return. Do you wisssh for the ssspawn to return and finisssh them off?"

  Damion shook his head. "No, I think we'll look into it ourselves. Instead, I want you to keep an eye over Sevria while we are gone. There is someone around here that is trying to arm a lot of people, and I want to make sure that the city remains safe."

  "It will be as you sssay, Massster." The one armed creature quickly stood, then hurried back across the field and disappeared into the shadows of the surrounding forest.

  "He may not be pretty," Shirk grunted dubiously. "but at least he's loyal."

  "Slither's not so bad." Damion nudged Storm with his heels and led the way down the trade road. "He has proven to be very useful over the last year or so. The only attacks on the trade road have been by these bandits. He has kept the dragonspawn of this region in check and out of our hair. Plus, he never gets caught stealing, or womanizing, or found passed out in a gutter." He gave the bearded man a sour look.

  "What can I say?" Shirk smirked impishly. "It was a slow night."

  They continued moving to the south, allowing the horses to walk at their own pace, not wanting to catch up with the slow moving caravan. That evening, they set up camp in the center of a large grove of trees some distance from the road. After tending to the horses, and grabbing a quick supper of cold chicken, they gathered near their well sheltered fire to discuss their next move.

  "How much farther ahead do you think the caravan travelled?" Raven asked Damion as she slipped beneath one of his arms and snuggled close.

  "I'm guessing they are a mile or so ahead." Damion shrugged unconcerned. "As soon as Snowfeather returns from hunting, we'll slip off for a little while and locate the place where they have set up camp."

  Snowfeather returned an hour later, then he and Damion set off into the darkness to locate the wagon train.

  As soon as he was away from their camp, Damion drew in his magic and slipped into the familiar form of a panther, then quickly set off through the shadows back towards the trade road, his paws scarcely making a sound as he prowled through the darkness. Once he reached the road, he set off towards the south, his keen eyes alert for any sign of the caravan.

  After searching for only a few minutes, Snowfeather located the caravan a mile or so to the south of their own campsite. The teamsters had pulled the wagons off to the side of the road, and were now camped in one of the fortified encampments the road crews had constructed to help protect the wagon trains that travelled through the mountains from attack.

  As he drew closer, Damion could see most of the men gathered around their campfire, while several others stood watch in various positions near the wagons, obviously on the lookout for any sign of an impending attack.

  "It looks as though they're expecting trouble." Snowfeather hooted as he circled over the campsite. "They have several men spread out around the site keeping watch."

  "I'm going to try and sneak a little closer. Maybe I'll overhear something interesting."

  "I wouldn't get too close if I were you. Those men don't look very friendly."

  "I'll be fine. As long as I'm careful, they'll never even know I'm there." He melted into the darkness, and slowly began to prowl towards the campfire.

  "I don't really care what Ickor said." A skinny man with a heavily pock marked face was telling one of his fellow teamsters. "It's too risky to be
moving these weapons, especially after the last caravan disappeared."

  Damion settled down in the shadows at the edge of the camp to listen.

  "The weapons have to be at Faldor's place in two days, otherwise Ickor won't get paid." Another teamster grunted at him in an annoyed tone. "If he doesn't get paid, then neither do we. The last caravan probably just fell victim to some dragonspawn. These mountains are absolutely infested with those filthy creatures."

  "I still think it was a bad idea." The pock faced man whined. "Besides, what would anyone want with such weapons anyway? They're useless! I tried to fire one of those crossbows while we were in Sierra, and it fell to pieces!"

  "Who cares what they're for?" The other teamster snapped irritably. "As long as I'm getting paid, I could care less what they're intended for."