Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) (7 page)

"Pancras
knows. He's not going to let anything happen to us. Besides, we've been on Deep
Road dozens of times. Out here, we don't have to worry about cave-ins, giant
hungry lizards, or anything like that." Kale spread his arms and grinned,
although Delilah thought she saw a hint of a wince before the grin. "It's
the whole world, Deli."

"Yeah,
no walls. No ceiling." She'd been outside before, but just that one time
coming back from Ironkrag, and it was years ago. Her thoughts were occupied
with Kale at the time, since she believed him dead, and she never really
noticed how vast the land beyond Drak-Anor was. Part of her wanted to clutch
the road and crawl on all fours for fear of flying off into the great blue void
above.

"Hey,
you two, don't make a habit of getting too far ahead." Pancras and Edric
jogged up to them. "Once we're out of the mountains, it will be too easy
to become separated and lost if you do that."

Delilah
stuck her tongue out and put her arm around her brother. "Very well,
Father. We won't wander."

Kale ducked
out from under her arm. "Careful, Deli. My shoulders are sore."
Grimacing, he rolled his shoulders. "I hit that wall pretty hard."

Pancras
knelt down and examined Kale. "Are you sure you're up for this? It's not
too late to go back."

"No—I
mean, yes, I'm up for it." Kale shook his head.

"Let's
just get on with this, Pancras." Delilah tapped the butt of her staff
against the ground. Aside from the backpack holding the grimoire and a belt
pouch containing leather polish and some money, it was all she had. She
couldn't imagine needing anything else. Kale, on the other hand, festooned with
bulging pouches, appeared to have packed every tool, probe, and lock pick he
owned in anticipation of whatever they might encounter. She chuckled as she regarded
the comical image of her laden sibling.

Chapter 4

As Pancras
led them away from Drak-Anor, Kale tried to concentrate on something other than
the sudden pain that coursed through him. His blood felt as if it was on fire,
but he was sure it would soon abate. It never lasted longer than a few minutes.
I hope Deli doesn't notice.

Drak-Anor's
healer, Jared, found nothing wrong with Kale other than the expected bumps and
bruises one might acquire when running from ghouls and being tossed around a
room with stone walls by slimy tentacles.

By the time
the sun reached its zenith, most of Kale's soreness subsided to a dull ache,
although he noticed a new pain localized near his shoulder blades that wasn't
there before. It wasn't severe, though, and he assumed he wrenched it while
carrying the massive tome from Terrakaptis to his sister.

So the days
went, cool and sunny, followed by clear and cold nights. Delilah happily cast a
spell here and there to short-cut the fire building process and set alight
their campfires. The four of them spent the majority of their time practicing
the common trade language of Andelosia. Dwarvish and Drak were fine for the
mountains, but down on the plains, most humans spoke only their regional
dialects and the trade language.

They snacked
during the day while on foot, electing to stop and cook only when they stopped
to make camp each night. Pancras, determined to reach Bramblevale Keep as
quickly as possible, kept a brisk pace. The sooner they purchased pack animals
to carry their gear and possibly themselves, the better chance they had of
arriving in Muncifer in time for the tribunal.

Kale didn't
much notice if the days and nights became colder as time passed, but Pancras
informed them that it tended to be warmer at the lower elevations and that cold
days approached. Most of the time, though, Kale was hot, and his back ached.
The clockwork box Terrakaptis gave him was not heavy, but after nearly a week
of carrying it, he was certain it would crush him under its weight.

The road
took them east out of the mountains, and they found themselves on the outskirts
of the Celtan Forest, trees flanking them as they hiked. Ahead lay Bramblevale
Keep. The keep itself was a blocky, stone building surrounded by a stone wall.
Men with bows patrolled the battlements between the guard towers that stood at
each of the wall's four corners. A moat surrounded the wall, and a tree-lined
avenue spurred from the road that passed in front of the keep and led them
toward the keep's drawbridge.

Bramblevale
Keep marked the northern edge of Etrunia, or if one hailed from Celtangate, the
southern edge of that city-state. Neither city expended the resources to
properly garrison the keep, and as a result, the Lord of Bramblevale was loyal
to neither, despite his troops hailing from both nations.

Folk of the
Borderlands were independent and suspicious. Traders passing between Ironkrag
and Celtangate avoided the keep more often than not, and the way the guards
aimed their bows at the four travelers as they approached it, Kale understood
why.

Pancras held
up his hands as three guards approached them. "Greetings, men of
Bramblevale. My companions and I seek to trade."

The men eyed
them with suspicion. One wore a tabard emblazoned with Etrunia’s blue-and-red
coat of arms, displaying a white medusa head; the other two wore the
grass-green and yellow griffon of Celtangate. The Etrunian veteran, a grizzled,
old man with one eye regarded Pancras and loosened his sword in its sheath.
"We do not trade with monsters from the mountains."

Edric
huffed, drawing his sword. "Who are you calling a monster,
longshanks?"

The three
guards stepped back, drawing their swords in unison. Pancras moved between
Edric and the guards. "Peace! Stand down, now! We are passing through on
our way to Almeria and hoped to buy horses to speed our journey. That is
all!"

"Buy?"
One Eye raised his sword. Kale saw the archers on the battlements take aim and
draw their bows. "With gold plundered from the dead, no doubt."

As One Eye
gave the command to fire, Kale tackled his sister, shielding her with his body.
He heard Pancras cry out "
Aspida tou ravematos
" just as the
arrows flew. The missiles bounced off the green shield, shimmering in the air
between Pancras and the humans. Edric charged toward the three guards, but
jerked to a stop when Pancras grabbed his collar.

"We do
not want a fight. It is clear we are not welcome here, even if our intentions
are peaceful." Pancras backed up, dragging Edric with him. Delilah shoved
Kale aside, stood up, and brushed herself off.

The humans
watched as another volley of arrows flew toward the four companions and fell
short, stopped by the arcane energy.

"Let me
blast them, Pancras." Delilah stabbed the butt of her staff into the
ground, her eyes sparkling with an azure glow.

"No,"
Pancras shook his head. It was wreathed in wisps of emerald aether as he
concentrated to keep the shield active. "No, we are departing as we came:
in peace." He bowed to the humans, never taking his eyes off them.

The humans,
to their credit, did not pursue, though they launched a few more volleys of
arrows which seemed to intentionally fall short. Pancras continued backward
until they reached the end of the avenue and returned to the road that ran
between Almeria and Celtangate.

"Where
to now, minotaur? Celtangate?" Edric sheathed his sword now that they were
out of range of the keep's archers, although Kale doubted it would have
provided protection had the bowmen shot at the dwarf.

Pancras
shook his head, allowing the magical energies to dissipate. "No. I'm not
willing to waste that many days to risk being turned away at their gates. We'll
proceed to Almeria on foot. Surely there will be farms or inns between here and
there where we'll be able to buy horses."

Kale looked
up at Pancras. "How far away is Almeria?" He didn't relish the
thought of all that walking.

Pancras
turned to the south. The sun continued its relentless march across the sky
toward the mountains on the western horizon. "Probably two weeks or more
by foot. It's been ages since I've come this way." He sighed, shoulders
slumping. "Maybe the snows will hold off until we reach Almeria."

Edric
sniffed the air, looking back up at the mountains. "Doubtful. Why in
Tinian's name did you pick such a foolish time to begin?"

"It
wasn't my choice. I must reach Muncifer by Spring's Dawning. If we can find
horses on the way or in Almeria, there should be no problem. If we are forced
to walk the whole way…"

"Our
feet will be killing us by the time we get there." Delilah huffed and
pushed past Pancras. "What are we waiting for? I'm not standing around to
get caught out here when the snows come!"

* * *

Loath as he
was to do so, in order to reach Almeria, Pancras turned his back to Bramblevale
Keep. Now that he knew how the humans there regarded him and the draks, he
feared they would send out hunting parties to cleanse the world of the vile
"monsters of the mountains." He hoped news of the last five years of
trade among Celtangate, Ironkrag, and Drak-Anor had reached the Borderland
folk, but obviously they were either ill-informed or did not care.

Though
probably Celtangate would not turn them away, Pancras felt the risk was not
worth the extra time it would take to backtrack. Twilight approached, and
Pancras breathed a sigh of relief when he found no sign of pursuit from
Bramblevale Keep. The first of the evening's stars twinkled overhead, and
although dark clouds gathered over his right shoulder in the peaks of the
Dragon Spine Mountains, Pancras relaxed.
As long as the clear weather holds,
we should make good time.
He scowled and slapped at an insect buzzing
around his head.
I hate the outdoors.
Already the bottoms of his robes
were dirty, and he thought he saw the telltale loose strands of fabric that
would become a full-blown fray by evening.

The fair
weather continued, and within a few days, the trees and hills of the
borderlands gave way to the plains of Etrunia. The road on which they traveled
would take them straight to the gates of Almeria, the Etrunian capitol, and
from there, Pancras would decide whether to travel overland to Muncifer or
follow the more circuitous trade route.

For now,
that decision could wait. Pangs of hunger twisted the minotaur’s stomach, and
the further they walked, the more his thoughts turned to food. Edric, as it
turned out, was a decent scrounger and trapper. Kale and Delilah were quite
experienced in hunting cave lizards in the deep underground caverns beneath
Drak-Anor, so they enjoyed fresh fare almost every night.

Two days out
of Bramblevale Keep, Delilah pointed toward the eastern horizon. "What's
that over there?" The mid-morning sun passed behind a puffy cloud, casting
dark shadows over the landscape. Pancras squinted and peered in the direction
Delilah pointed.

Four spires
rose from the plains, silhouetted against the azure sky. A thin wisp of smoke
rose from between the spires, thinning as it made its way higher and higher
until it vanished.

"A
shrine of some sort, perhaps? There's a fire." Pancras thought it was most
likely a lone traveler stopped to rest there. Shrines to the lesser-worshipped
deities dotted the landscape; Dolios in particular was worshipped mostly from
road-side shrines.

Delilah
stepped off the road and advanced toward the spires. "Let's check it out.
It's not that far away."

"We
don't have time for this!" Pancras, stopped, exasperated. In truth, the
shrine, or whatever it was, was not far enough away to significantly delay
them, but myriad things could happen between the road and that shrine.

Kale beamed
at Pancras and then ran after his sister. Pancras looked at Edric for support,
but the dwarf bolted after the draks. Pancras's hands dropped to his sides.
Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he trotted after them.

Each stone
spire stood as high as Pancras's head. They were arranged around a central
boulder with a large bronze disk embedded in its surface. The disk featured a
bas-relief of a curly-haired, bearded man drinking from a wine goblet. A
tarnished brass bowl was attached to the boulder just below the disk. Nearby, a
fire crackled and popped. A hooded man knelt in front of the shrine, paying his
respects to Dolios, Lord of Language, Commerce, and Travel.

The man
looked up as the draks, dwarf, and minotaur approached him. His eyes fixed on the
drak twins and Pancras, and he stood, eyes wide. He backed up, hands held high
in front of him, narrowly avoiding tripping over the fire.

"No,
no, no!" He stumbled, then turned, and ran, screaming. "Don't kill
me!"

Pancras, his
mouth agape, watched the man flee. Delilah huffed and crossed her arms over her
chest. "I'm not sure whether I should be relieved he didn't attack us or
offended that he ran."

Edric shook
his head and tossed a coin into the shrine's collection bowl. The bowl rang
like a bell as the coin bounced into it. "Surfacers."

Sniffing the
air, Kale giggled. "Maybe the dwarf-stink made him take off."

"Drak
teeth and minotaur horns, more like!" Edric wheeled around and scowled at
Kale.

Pancras
shook his head. "Let's just leave an offering and go. There are still
several hours of good daylight." The frightened man was out of sight.
Pancras did not want to risk him returning with hostility in his heart, or
worse, returning with a pack of humans ready to end a perceived-threat to
travelers in Etrunia.

"What
do we leave?" Kale patted the pouches on his belt, searching for something
appropriate.

"Just
toss a coin or two in there." Edric touched the bas relief and then
stepped away from the shrine.

Kale pulled
a dull golden coin from a pouch and tossed it in the bowl. It rattled around
for a moment. "I hope that's enough. It'll bring us good luck,
right?"

Pancras
snorted. "Sure, if you think Dolios really cares about two draks, a
minotaur, and a dwarf making a journey to Muncifer."

"I'm a
gambler." Edric looked over his shoulder as he marched toward the road.
"Dolios looks after my kind."

Following
behind Edric, Pancras overhead Delilah whisper to her brother, "Yeah,
that's why he got kicked out of Ironkrag."

* * *

As the rain
poured down, Delilah wondered what the point was of leaving an offering for the
god of travelers seeking good fortune. For the last three days the rain fell
from the sky nonstop, a deluge of damp sadness that greyed out the sky and sun
and transformed all but the rockiest parts of the road into a muddy morass.
Edric bought oilcloth cloaks for them from a trader caravan a day down the road
from Bramblevale Keep, but even those provided scant protection from the
downpour.

At the
moment Delilah hated mud between her toes, almost as much as she hated Dolios
and Tinian and all the gods that controlled the weather. As they trudged along
the road, Delilah entertained scenarios in her mind in which she met each of
the weather-affecting gods in turn and compelled them slog for days in a cold
downpour.