Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3) (8 page)

Toborne put the tip of the poker in the fireplace to burn off the blood. With his other hand, he took a drink of brandy. “Aye, that is my intent.”

Bannon answered a knock at the door and let in two women carrying medical supplies and bandages. One of the women went to Bren and the other to Tatrice. From the way the women were dressed, Tatrice could tell they were both clerics.

“Wait a few more moments,” Toborne said as he took another drink of brandy. “I want to make sure enough time passes.”

The two clerics waited. In the meantime, Tatrice’s pain worsened. She was almost about to plead with Toborne to relent when he nodded to the two clerics. The women went to work bandaging and healing Bren’s and Tatrice’s wounds.

After the two women had finished their work, Toborne ordered Bannon to tie Bren and Tatrice up. “I had hoped to do this more civilized.”

“How could you possibly do this in a civilized manner?” Bren asked.

“It won’t matter anyway. You’ll bring our dragon friends here all worried and frantic. They’ll think you’ve killed us, and they won’t hesitate to burn this place down. I think you’re going to get more than you bargained for when the dragons arrive,” Tatrice said.

Bren bowed his head. “He has the matron of dragons; that’s all the convincing our dragon friends will need.”

Toborne nodded. “One day, you’ll both understand. This isn’t about the Sacred Land or a gaudy show of power. This is about dominance of another kind.” He threw his empty brandy glass into the fireplace, where it shattered.

#

Upon hearing the shattering of the glass, Tatrice opened her eyes. Bren was on a small cot next to her, and Toborne was sitting in a wooden chair with his eyes closed at the end of her own cot. Bren appeared to be asleep. She quickly felt her midriff to find no sign of any wounds and equally no pain.

“It was just an illusion,” Toborne said. “Bannon is a decent mindwielder, if not a bit untrained.”

Bren startled awake and checked for wounds, the same as Tatrice, and found none. “What is all this about?”

“Dragons,” Toborne said. “I had to make you believe you were actually hurt or the dragons would not come.” He stretched his arms. “Some call me evil, some think I am beyond redemption, but I would not ram a red-hot poker into a fair maiden’s midriff short of being obligated to do so by war.”

Bren lurched as if he were about to attack.

“I wouldn’t do that, young broodlord. You never can tell what is real and what is an illusion when a mindwielder is near.” He faded out and left Tatrice and Bren in the room alone.

Bren leaped from his cot and checked the door. It was solidly bolted. “Locked,” he said. He went to the window and drew back the curtains to see nothing but stone. “Fake window. We’re locked in here.”

“You think so?” Tatrice grinned. “I would think you would remember what you are, Dragon Knight.” She produced a small Lora Daine from her front pocket.

“So, you have your Lora Daine,” Bren said. “Look at it. That dragon stone is not big enough to transport both of us. It can’t hold enough dragon essence.”

“One of us can go get help.”

“Then what? Amadace and Shadesilver are probably on their way. If Toborne comes in here and finds one of us gone, or if that mindwielder senses one of us has left, we . . .” He looked at the spot where Tatrice was a few moments earlier. She was gone. “Great. She took off before I could even finish going over the dangers of her haphazard, addlebrained plan.” He sat down on her cot. “And now I’m talking to myself.”

Chapter 5: Rogue Assassin

Vesperin tried in vain not to stare at Loracia. The goddess of life radiated vitality and glowed with beauty. He could understand why Vex slew Fawl to have her, forever to be known as Fawlsbane Vex from then after. The goddess was handing Fayne the newly-forged staff of life, companion to the one he carried. He began to get giddy and then finally drowsy as Loracia tried to explain to Fayne how to use her new staff. This was the second time Loracia had summoned him to her, and both times, he became unbearably sleepy the longer he stayed in her presence.

“Awaken!” Loracia commanded. “I have placed a Lora Daine in your bedchambers.” Vesperin felt his eyes close. Loracia shook him awake and spoke close to his face. “Are you listening to me? I had a special Lora Daine placed in your bedchamber. Tell no one you have it. The dragons have forbidden the use of Lora Daines by anyone but dragons and dragon knights. If you are found to carry one, the dragons will take it from you or render it useless. You and Fayne are to use it tonight. I will have one of my followers there to guide you on your task. The time has come for you two to serve me as you have prayed all these seasons.”

Vesperin opened his eyes to praise Loracia and tell her of his great honor, but found himself in his bed. It took him a moment to regain his bearings. He went to the window and realized he was still in the ruined city of By’temog. Judging by the sun, it was at least midday. He jumped to alert when he heard a low moan coming from the opposite side of his bed. Fayne pulled herself up by clutching the bedpost.

“Fayne? What are you doing in here?”

“We were trying to get your staff out of the crack in the floor. That’s the last thing I remember before being in the presence of Loracia.” She opened her hand and found her staff there, shrunken to the size of a sewing needle. Vesperin realized he, too, was clutching something tightly in his fist. He opened his hand to find the companion staff. Immediately he began searching around the room, looking for the Lora Daine. He found the stone under his feather pillow.

Fayne sat on the edge of his bed. “Something is nagging me,” she said. “Maybe I should have gone with Trendan and Sanmir to Lux Enor.”

“You have done the right thing by staying here with me. Trendan and Sanmir will rescue Kimala. You and I have the will of our goddess to fulfill.”

“It is a worthy calling, but I can’t help but wonder why she only comes in our dreams. It doesn’t seem odd to you?”

Vesperin joined Fayne and sat down on the bed. “It doesn’t seem odd to me at all. I have been in her presence once before. We were cornered at Signal Hill by abominations to our goddess. I was injured, and she saved my life. She said I was not to die because I had a great purpose to accomplish. She told me this day would come and that I would know how to serve her.” He took Fayne’s hand in his. “Fayne, I do know how to serve her.”

“Did she mention me?”

“No, but I don’t see why she would at the time.”

“There is something I need to tell you.” Fayne let out a sigh, and Vesperin knew whatever she was about to tell him was difficult for her. “I know who your people were. I know where you came from. My mother found out about your people during a difficult time in her life. For a time, she was corrupted, and she left me, my father, and my sister. She will not talk about where she went or what happened, but when she returned, she stole me away and convinced my father that she killed me.”

“That’s terrible. I thought your mother was a spy for Enowene.”

“Wait, there’s more. Let me finish. She took me deep into the Jagged Mountains where I was raised by a man named Geron. He taught me the ways of the clerics of Loracia, and he told me of you. He said you were the last of a once great people called the Noanas, and that it was my destiny to . . .” She hesitated.

“Aye, go on,” Vesperin said.

“It was my destiny to be with you, and together, we would be powerful.”

Vesperin nodded. He didn’t quite know what to make of her story. “In what way? What else did he say?”

“I feel foolish telling you all this. My mother told me I shouldn’t.”

“Your mother told you that you shouldn’t tell me this story?”

“Aye, she said you would not believe me, that I should seduce you and keep it from you until I had you eating from the palm of my hand first.”

“Why would she tell you that?”

“Because she was corrupted like I told you. Something bad happened to her, and I was taken away against my father’s will and handed over to Geron against my mother’s will. Now we are tasked by Loracia to do something together just like Geron said, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s right. Was Geron right? Are we seeing the whole picture?”

“If it’s from Loracia, it’s right.”

“But what if that wasn’t Loracia?”

Vesperin felt the anger stir within him, but he managed to suppress it. “I am a cleric of Loracia. You are crossing a dangerous line. I told you I have been in her presence before.”

“I don’t mean to belittle our faith. I merely have concerns. I am not ready to condemn everything yet.”

Vesperin thought for a moment. “All right, the next time we are in the presence of Loracia, we will ask her of this. I will ask her of the time at Signal Hill. There is something I can ask Loracia that an imposter would not know.”

She threw her arms around him. “Thank you.”

“I just hope she is understanding and doesn’t think it’s blasphemy when I ask her. I mean, I hope she doesn’t see my asking as a sign of wavering faith.”

“If she is our goddess, you know she will be kind and understanding. She is a force for good.”

When Fayne released him from her hug, he felt a longing to hold on to her. He suddenly realized he
liked
her being near. He didn’t, however, like the feeling. It was distracting. He decided if he changed the mood of the conversation, his feelings would pass. “Where is your father and sister now?” he asked.

Fayne went white as snow. “I . . . I’m not sure I should say.”

“More secrets? Do I know them or something? How can I trust you if you keep secrets?”

“Vesperin, Tatrice is my sister.”

Tatrice strapped on the last piece of her dragon armor and sheathed her dragon fang and dragon claw where she could easily get at them. The tiny Lora Daine she carried in her pocket was not powerful enough for her to travel far, so she used it to get to her armor and the horses. She made the realization that they would have to fight their way out of this predicament. She put Bren’s armor back on his horse and led both horses to the stables. No one had bothered to take care of them, which angered her. She felt lucky, however, that her armor was still on the ground where she left it. Once she stabled the horse, she pinched herself as hard as she could. She didn’t know if it would tell her if she was still under the influence of the mindwielder, but she tried it anyway. She was beginning to understand how dangerous mindwielders were. No wonder people feared users of wild magic if they ended up turning into mindwielders. Satisfied by her pinch, she took ahold of Bren’s armor and traveled back to the locked room. Bren was startled to see her suddenly pop back, but soon got over it and began putting on his armor without a word.

Tatrice turned the Lora Daine over in her hand. She concentrated on it and put her thoughts into it.
Bren and I are okay. We do not need assistance. Coming to our location would be folly and dangerous for you, and we are in no danger. Please do not come to us. We are not injured. It was a trick.

“What are you doing?” Bren asked as he finished tightening a strap.

“Remember when you called Shadesilver to us when we needed help to get to Brightonhold and the Lora Daine you carried was too small to get us both there?”

“Aye, I hope you didn’t just call her here.”

“Of course I didn’t. I told her to stay away. Do you think it will work?”

“I doubt it. The senses that dragons get from it, as I understand it, are more feelings and premonitions, nothing solid and concrete. If Amadace and Shadesilver are on their way here, your message would likely confirm the urgency to get to us.”

“How?”

“Think about it. If you saw or felt I was hurt and you were running to me and I was pushing you back saying I was fine, would you simply turn away?”

“I might.”

He cocked his eyebrow at her.

“Okay, well, I had to try. Maybe Shadesilver will be more in tune with me and heed my warning.”

“Let’s hope so. What is the plan?”

“Plan?” Tatrice knew what he was asking but decided to play coy since she actually had no plan.

“You are winging this, aren’t you?” Bren said.

Tatrice nodded as innocently as she could muster, giving Bren a slightly pouty look.