The Veredor Chronicles: Book 02 - The Journey West (3 page)

BOOK: The Veredor Chronicles: Book 02 - The Journey West
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‘The memories are difficult to talk about
,’ he said, pausing for a few moments. ‘At the time I was fourteen. I spent most of my days working with my father. He was a candle maker and had a small workshop in the backstreets of Talis. We lived behind the workshop in a small one bedroom cottage. I was out late with some friends one night and returned home to find my parents were gone. Everything was taken from our house, and the workshop had been ransacked. I didn’t know where they had gone or what had happened. I asked everyone in the neighbourhood; no one knew what had happened to them. I searched every corner of Talis and asked everyone if they had seen my parents. My father never owned his workshop, and he had large debts to various bankers in the town. The bankers sold the workshop and our cottage. I was left to fend for myself on the streets of Talis. I worked hard to support myself and lived on the streets for years. I spent all my spare time searching for my parents. I never found them. It took me years to accept the possibility that they were probably murdered.’


I’m sorry to hear this,’ said Cassiel. ‘Those years must have been very difficult for you.’

Red nodded and
glanced up at the moon. ‘Every time I see the full moon I think of them. I miss them so much. I think they are still with me in a sense, looking after me and keeping watch over me.’

Eben felt sad for R
ed. He understood what it was like to not know what happened to your parents. Hearing about Red’s past made him feel an even stronger kinship with his friend.

‘Hey
look, dinner is ready,’ said Red with a smile as he leaned over and pulled the pot off the flames. He took four bowls from his bag and served them boiled vegetables.

**

They moved quickly the following day and came to the edge of Altus Forest. They stopped their horses at the site of the Battle of Ortaria where they had fought weeks earlier. Few signs of the battle remained. After a short stopover they followed the highway out across the Golden Plains.

The highway
was mostly empty apart from occasional peddlers or trading caravans. The blue skies were passing away. The weather was becoming cool again as grey clouds rolled in from the north. As night fell they set up camp by the side of the road. They all sat around the campfire and kept warm as the night grew dark.

‘I’m
looking forward to seeing Vastoria and Irvaria,’ said Red. ‘I’ve heard many stories about the Western Lands. Irvaria is said to be the most beautiful kingdom in all Veredor.’

‘I’ve also heard that
Irvaria is beautiful,’ said Cassiel. ‘They say Faircastle was built by the first Ecorian, Jeriel the Just; it was the seat of the Ecorian Emperor and the capital of the old Empire. Faircastle is said to be a glorious city. Faircastle was known as the Star of the Ecorian Empire.’

‘What ever happened to the
Ecorian Empire?’ asked Stella.

‘The
Ecorian Empire was ruled by a line of powerful and noble men who were direct descendants of Jeriel the Just. Jeriel’s only son, Aldis Ecorian, married a mermaid and from that time the emperors became known as the Ecorians. The Ecorians were not quite men and not quite mer; they belonged to both races. There were never any other unions between men and mer in all of the history of Veredor. The mer by nature could only have two children, a son and a daughter, and the Ecorians inherited only half this trait, being only able to have one child, either a son or a daughter. The last Ecorian died without an heir, and the Ecorian Arbiters, the men who governed the provinces of the empire, argued over who should succeed the Ecorians. Eventually they decided to form independent kingdoms. Ortaria, Silvor, Scaldonia, Irvaria, Everdon, Vastoria, Ateria, and the lands of the Far West became independent kingdoms. King Ignis is a direct descendent of the Ortarian Magistrate of the Ecorian Empire. The Ecorian Arbiters have since been regarded as the highest degree of nobility in Veredor.’

‘I
would like to know more about the history of Veredor,’ said Stella.

‘There is a lo
t to learn. So much has occurred across the ages. There is a great library in Faircastle. Hopefully we will be able to read some of the old books when we arrive.’

They sat around the fire and rested. T
he night grew cold, but the fire burned brightly and kept them warm.

**

The days that followed were
much the same. The Golden Plains were mostly empty. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and they often found themselves riding through heavy rain. Around midday on the third day they could see Galdir set on the hill in the distance. Misty clouds hung low above the fortress, and the tops of the mountains beyond Galdir were hidden from view.

‘This is our last stop in Ortaria,’ said Cassiel.

‘The Vastorian Wastelands await us,’ said Red, his eyes studying the towering mountains ahead. Red had been looking forward to the adventure beyond the mountains. They were all excited about the prospect of seeing Vastoria and Irvaria.


The wastes are very dangerous. Meara told me they are mostly ruled by warlords and tribal leaders,’ said Cassiel. ‘We will cross them as quickly as we can. I expect it to be a two week journey from Galdir to Faircastle. We will probably have to stop at the city of Sabulo just beyond the Iron Gate Pass. We will need to find a guide to take us across the desert. Once we cross the wasteland we will make for the Adira River. From there we can take a barge up the river all the way to Faircastle.’

They rode onw
ard toward the gate of Galdir. The large reinforced ironclad gates opened as they approached. Two Ortarian guardsmen stood on each side of the great archway and allowed them to pass. They rode up through the town to the top of the hill where the dark stone fortress towered high above the town. The townsfolk appeared much happier since they had been liberated from the rule of Baron Doriak. Several guardsmen walked down the fortress steps to greet them.


I salute you, Champion Eben, Sir Red, Lady Stella, and Lord Cassiel. We were not expecting you so soon,’ said their leader, who was a very short man with a completely bald head. A dozen or so guardsmen stood behind him. ‘I have sent someone to fetch Sir Victar.’

Moments later the great iron doors opened
. Sir Victar stepped out and stood at the top of the steps. He was a tall and gaunt looking man with high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. His dark hair was oiled back, and he wore the same armour as the guardsmen of the town. He was around forty years old and looked very lordly, but at the same time very exhausted.

‘The Dragon Slayer himself,’
said Sir Victar, walking down the steps toward them.

‘Greetings, Sir Victar,’ said Eben. ‘We are
passing through on our way to Irvaria. We are only hoping to stay one night at Galdir.’


King Ignis sent word that you were on your way. You’re most welcome to stay in the fortress. Please come in. I’ll have a banquet prepared in your honour,’ said Sir Victar. They followed him through the iron doors into the magnificent hall of Galdir.

‘Did you see any
muckrons on the highway?’ he asked as he led them up the stairs to the upper hall where an open fireplace was burning brightly.

‘No, we rode
quickly across Ortaria and didn’t see one, but we did get attacked by a lindworm in Riverside,’ said Cassiel as they all took seats around the long oak table.

‘A lindworm!’ exclaimed Sir Victar.

‘It was really nasty, but it didn’t last long against Eben,’ said Red. Sir Victar looked to Eben and nodded respectfully.

‘We haven’t seen
any wyvern around Galdir; however, there are still many stray muckrons in the wilderness. I only have a garrison of eighty men here at Galdir, and they are all that is protecting the whole west of Ortaria from the borders of Altus to the Endless Wall Mountains. I’ve sent word to King Ignis for more men; I don’t know if he can spare any at this time.’

‘The King
has sent brigades to all the small villages and settlements around Ortaria,’ said Cassiel. ‘He’s also sending men to Scaldonia through the Northern Pass. I’m sure when he can spare more men he will send them.’


I hope that day is not far off. I worry because we are exposed to a raid from Vastoria with such a little force based here in Galdir.’

‘Why would the
Vastorians attack?’ asked Cassiel, surprised at the suggestion.


I am mostly worried about bands of raiders and renegade warlords. The Vastorian Wastelands are a complete mess. The warlords are tearing each other apart, and there’s a threat that it could spill across the mountains. There is also word that the Skatheans control the south of Vastoria. They have also been pressing into the northern wastelands. It wouldn’t take much for the Skatheans to gather an army and cross the Iron Gate Pass. Then they could enter the Golden Plains and even reach as far as Riverside. There have also been reports of muckrons and other monsters beyond the pass. Most troubling is the word from Scaldonia. Duke Egil faces monsters that don’t even have names.’

‘That sounds
grim,’ said Red.

‘It’
s very grim,’ said Sir Victar sternly. ‘Galdir is a great fortress; we can stand against a large army, but eighty men...it’s such a small number.’

They could clearly see that Sir Victar was d
eeply strained; the dark circles under his eyes showed his exhaustion. They all knew that there was little they could do to help his situation.

‘We are
travelling to Irvaria and will cross the Vastorian Wastelands. Can you share any knowledge regarding the road ahead of us?’ asked Cassiel.

‘The road forward
will be treacherous,’ said Sir Victar in a low and uneasy voice. ‘If you weren’t experienced warriors I would suggest not going west at all. Beyond the Iron Gate Pass you will find the city of Sabulo, a pit of despair. The city is ruled by a tyrant warlord. I believe he is in league with the Skatheans. You would do well avoiding the town altogether; however, Sabulo is perhaps the best place to find a guide to take you onward through the wasteland.’ Sir Victar paused and looked toward the large arched windows before continuing.


There is no road west through the desert. You will surely need a guide to take you across the dry lands. The main risk is accidently stumbling on unfriendly tribes or being ambushed by bandits. You could angle to the north and follow the path through the Empyrean Hills; the tribal people of the Empyrean Hills are noble, but they’re also very unpredictable. You will need to pack your horses well and carry enough water for many days. The land is completely barren. There are wells in the desert, but the wells are hidden and well-guarded by the local tribes and clans. You are welcome to take whatever you need from the fortress stores.’

‘Thank you
, we appreciate your help,’ said Eben. ‘We will stock up before we leave in the morning.’

They rested beside the fire in the uppe
r hall of the fortress. Sir Victar provided them with a sumptuous banquet. The night was quiet and uneventful, and the following morning they rose early. Cassiel had already prepared the horses and gathered supplies. The cloud cover of the previous day had mostly passed.

They rode out of Galdir along the
winding road that led up through the mountains into the Iron Gate Pass.

CHAPTER THREE

They had passed by the Edius Plateau and hadn’t seen another person since they entered the Iron Gate Pass. They set up their small tents about half a day’s ride west of the plateau in a small dale that was out of sight of the mountain path. A veil of fog had descended and hid the craggy mountainside from view. An icy wind blew down from the snow-capped peaks. They wrapped their cloaks closely and sat by the campfire as an icy night approached.

‘We shoul
d come out of the pass tomorrow morning,’ said Cassiel.

‘If we don’
t die from this cold first,’ said Red, intensely shivering. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this cold in my entire life.’

Cassiel pointed his hand at the fire
; the flames instantly doubled in size, warming the entire area.

‘Nice trick,’ said Red happily
. They all huddled closer to the fire.

Stella brought the horses into the
circle of warmth, and Cassiel used his magic so that the fire burned brightly all night, keeping the icy cold away from the campsite. The sunrise promised a warmer day; the clouds had cleared away revealing a bright and clear sky. They packed up the camp and set off early. The mountain path gradually descended; before long they had entered the foothills on the far side.

They stood on a high ridge
with a view to the dry and arid plain beyond the mountains. Beyond a group of foothills a dry and dusty plain extended out into the hazy distance. They couldn’t see a single tree in Vastoria; only dry shrubs and prickly weeds grew beyond the Endless Wall Mountains. The land looked rugged and bleak. To the north the Endora Mountain range stretched away westward like giant fangs rising from the plain.

‘Vastoria
looks like it’s the opposite of Ortaria,’ said Red.

‘So harsh,’ added
Stella.

‘Only tribal nomads
survive in the dry deserts,’ said Cassiel.

Eben could see
the road led out of the Iron Gate Pass and cut toward the south across the parched plain. Further south there was a wide and lone hill that looked to have a town built on it.

‘I
think that’s Sabulo over there,’ he said, pointing toward the southwest.

The others looked and could see the outline of the town in the distance.

‘Sir Victar told us to stay away from Sabulo,’ said Stella.

‘True, he did, but we must find a guide to ta
ke us across the wasteland. As far as I know there is no other town around here,’ said Cassiel, his eyes searching the plain. ‘We’ll have to keep our wits about us. If the lord of the town has dealings with the Skatheans then it will be dangerous for us.’

‘Maybe we should just try to cross the wastes without a guide,’ suggested Red.

Cassiel pondered the idea for a few moments.
‘If any of us had ever crossed the wasteland I would probably think we could. The real issue is the possibility of crossing tribal boundaries by accident. The Vastorians are very territorial. Only an experienced guide can make sure we don’t become the victims of an accidental trespass.’

‘Sir Victar mentioned the
Empyrean Hills,’ said Eben. ‘Perhaps we should follow the Endora Mountains and cross the Empyrean Hills.’


The tribes of the Empyrean Hills are supposedly good and noble,’ said Cassiel. ‘They are closely related to the Irvarians. It would probably be safer for us to go that way. However, I read about the Empyrian Hills before we left Ancora, and I learned it would take us twice the time to cross the Empyrean Hills as it would to cross the wastelands. They are said to be riddled with hundreds of gorges formed by streams that flow down from the Endora Mountains. We probably wouldn’t make it to Faircastle on time for the council if we went that way.’


Sabulo it is,’ declared Red.

‘I
t seems like the most reasonable choice,’ said Cassiel.

**

They followed the road that led southwest and passed through the craggy foothills as they descended toward the plain. Within an hour they had reached the beginnings of the plain. Sabulo was built on a lone hill that jutted out about two miles from the last of the foothills of the Endless Wall Mountains. The hill had steep slopes leading up each side and was completely flat on top, being about five hundred yards from end to end. An old wall made of a yellow ochre coloured stone completely surrounded the town and mostly looked to be in a state of ruin. They approached the hole in the wall that was the town’s northern gate. The gatehouse and the towers had completely crumbled into ruins, and there were no guards. Groups of grubby looking vagrants, vagabonds, and beggars culminated around the entrance.

T
hey rode up toward the gate. As they approached three rough looking men stood up and walked over to meet them.

‘If ya need anyfing in
Sabulo we can get it for ya,’ said their leader in a deep burly voice. He was a massive man with a big moustache and long straw like hair. His two companions stood a little back from him, one had a severely hunched back and the other was a young man with a snarl etched into his face. They all had curved Vastorian swords slung over their shoulders.

‘We are looking for a guide to take us across the wa
steland to the Adira River,’ said Cassiel.

‘Wez can organise that for ya,’ said the huge man. ‘Iz can take ya to a place where da guides all drink. For a silver piece da
t is.’

‘That seems a little
costly for such a little service,’ said Cassiel.

‘You sayen I arnt deserve me pay,’ said the
Vastorian, his nostrils instantly flared and his lips curled downward. ‘You tink you, an outsida, can come ear and make demands on me, a worken man,’ he added as he angrily stepped toward Cassiel.

Red looked across at Cassiel
and shook his head. ‘Let me handle this,’ said Red firmly. ‘I’ll give a bronze and that’s it, you got it, otherwise get out of the way!’ The man frowned up at Red and then sneered as his hand went to the axe that was hanging on his belt. Red’s hand went to his sword hilt. The man took a few steps back. They both severely eyed each other for a few moments.

‘Alright, we’ll make it a bronze,’ said the
Vastorian, finally backing down.

‘Berp, take em to da Old Guard Station
Tavern.’ The young man with the snarl stepped forward. Red flicked a bronze coin to the huge Vastorian.

‘Follow me,’ said Berp. H
e led them through the gate.

‘I learned h
ow to deal with people like that when I was living on the streets; some people don’t respond to reason and only speak the language of toughness,’ said Red, glancing back at the big Vastorian as they rode onwards.

The street was covered in waste
, and the buildings all looked derelict. Almost every window was smashed and boarded up. Every second house was either a pile of ruins or a makeshift structure. The people living in the city were all covered in filth; everyone looked frightened and deeply troubled. A putrid smell permeated the whole town and was like nothing that Eben had ever inhaled in his life...simply terrible.

‘We won’t stay long,’ said Cassiel as the
y followed Berp along the main road.

After about a hundred yards Berp turned and led t
hem down a side lane toward the west side of the town.

‘We
almost dare; just a bit fuver,’ said Berp. About a minute later he stopped and pointed down a long and dark alleyway.

‘Down dare,’ he grunted before walking away.

‘I don’t like the look of this,’ said Stella, her eyes narrowing as she stared down the foul and grimy alleyway. She shook her head uneasily.

‘I can’t see a tavern,’ said Cassiel.

‘Follow me,’ said Red as he turned his horse and led them forward.

Rats s
curried away as they proceeded. About a hundred feet ahead the alleyway came to a sudden end and a second lane bent away to the right.

‘They rode onward and then suddenly came up against a
n abrupt dead end. There was nothing but a grimy brick wall in front of them.

‘I think we were fooled,’ said Cassiel.

Suddenly a multitude of masked men, all in black attire, appeared from over the edge of the rooftops. Others rushed out from a door behind them and blocked their exit. Most of them had crossbows, others had spears and swords. Eben drew his sword and Cassiel raised his hands, ready to use his magic.


You would be fools to resist,’ said a masked man who walked across the rooftop to stand on top of the grimy brick wall.

‘What do you want?’ asked Cassiel
, looking up at the man in black. There were at least thirty masked men surrounding them.


I want you to drop your weapons and get off your horses,’ replied the man in black.

‘We won’t be doing that
,’ said Red, turning his horse around and staring angrily up at the leader of the bandits. There was a deathly silence for a few moments. Eben’s eyes scanned the bandits; he counted at least ten crossbows pointed at them. He wondered if he could possibly take on so many at once.

‘Red!’ exclaimed
the man on the wall, breaking the silence. ‘Is that you?’

‘Who wants to know?’ asked Red
.

The man quickly pull
ed off his mask and revealed his face. He was a handsome young man with dark mischievous eyes, an olive complexion, and curly brown hair.


Quade,’ said Red with a surprised laugh.

‘I never thought I’d see you again, Red,’ said
Quade with a smile from ear to ear. He slid down off the wall to the alleyway below and sheathed his sword.

‘Another friend, Red?
’ asked Cassiel suspiciously. Red glanced at Cassiel, understanding that he was referring to the experience with Falsig. He gave a wary smile and then looked back to Quade.

‘D
o you treat everyone who comes to Sabulo like this?’ asked Red.

‘No
, we’re actually not what we look like; we are the remaining members of the Baker’s Guild. There’s a bounty out on your head big enough to make everyone want to capture you...even bakers. We were not going to hurt you; we just wanted the bounty. Everyone in Vastoria is searching for the four of you. We were told that you had come down from the Iron Gate Pass and were heading this way, so we set a trap for you.’

‘What now?’ asked Red, looking
up at the other bakers on the rooftops.

‘You and y
our friends aren’t safe here in Sabulo. You have to get off the streets. Follow me. I’ll take you somewhere secure.’ Quade then looked to one of the crossbowmen. ‘Tell Big Bill it was a false alarm.’

The bandit
nodded and was about to leave, but another masked bandit grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. ‘I don’t think you can make that decision, Quade,’ he said angrily.

Quade
looked across at the masked man defiantly. ‘I command these men, Raulok, not you. Red is like a brother to me; I can’t hand him over to Big Bill.’

‘We don’t wan
t to give up the reward, and we don’t care about your friendship. The Skatheans are saying the bounty is one hundred gold pieces. You can be sure I will take them to Big Bill if you won’t.’

Eben could sense the situation was about to explode.
Quade looked up at the bandits on both rooftops and then back to those in the alleyway.

‘Are you going to take orders
from this little upstart or me?’ asked Quade angrily.

‘I think you’
ll find when gold is on the table loyalty is cast into the furnace,’ said Raulok. ‘You haven’t been in the Baker’s Guild long enough to learn what we are truly like.’ He then looked up at the bandits on the rooftops above. ‘I promise to divide the gold evenly among you. That’s three gold each!’

‘He’s lying, a
nd he can’t even bake! Don’t listen to a word he’s saying!’ cried Quade.

‘Capture them all,’ commanded
Raulok. A moment passed. The bakers didn’t move. ‘Do it!’ repeated Raulok fiercely.

Several of the bakers
threw nets from the rooftop. Cassiel raised his hand. The nets stopped in mid-air and flew back at the men who had thrown them. Raulok was speechless for a few moments as he watched the men on the rooftops become entangled in their own nets.

‘Get
them!’ cried Raulok furiously. The bandits in the alleyway all rushed forward.

Cassiel
sent a magic shockwave through the air at the approaching bandits. They all tumbled back. Simultaneously he protected them from many crossbow bolts with an invisible shield.

‘Let’
s get out of here!’ cried Red, turning his horse and drawing his sword.

Swiftwin
g spun about and sprung forward. One of the fallen men jumped to his feet and thrust his spear at Swiftwing. Eben deflected the attack and kicked the bandit down as he rode by. Stella and Cassiel were right beside him. A moment later they galloped out of the alleyway. Red heaved Quade up onto the back of his horse and charged away from the bandits. The ragtag group of baker bandits chased after them.

BOOK: The Veredor Chronicles: Book 02 - The Journey West
10.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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