Omensent: Rise of the Shadow Dragons (45 page)

BOOK: Omensent: Rise of the Shadow Dragons
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He and Raven ent
ered the substantial structure and muscled their way through the midday crowd to an unoccupied table. As always, Damion drew a large number of suspicious stares as he made his way across the tavern, but he ignored them and flagged down a passing serving girl.

It was an hour or so later when
Veren finally returned and announced that they were fully stocked on supplies, including a couple of kegs of ale and several bottles of wine. "I thought it might be a nice to have something other than water to drink at night. Besides," He grinned. "It was all paid for with the gold we earned from selling those horses. The Arleian that ran the livery was delighted to buy them, claiming he could sell them back to the city guard at a premium. I used that gold to pay for all of our supplies!"

Raven frowned.
"It seems the Arleians don't mind seeing their fellow countrymen butchered, as long as can make a profit from it."

The one eared man scratched his head thoughtfully. "From what I could gather, they look upon such
occurrences with amusement. They are very much like the serpents they worships. They will stab each other in the back if they think can get away with it. They're an unpredictable people. Many of them apparently live their lives only to satisfy their most base desires." He snorted. "I saw one fellow having an intense conversation with his horse. When I asked his companion what was wrong with him, his friend told me that the man had just smoked something called swamp weed." He laughed. "I guess it's harmless, but it sure makes a man do some strange things! I guess here in Arleia, it's even more popular than ale. Strange, huh?"

"S
o they are actually loyal to no one?"

"That not true."
Veren disagreed. "They appear to be fiercely loyal to their queen. If she issues a command, then entire country listens and obeys. All things considered, she has more power over her people than any other ruling body in the world!"

"But other than that, they just spend their da
ys plotting against one another and smoking goofy weed until they are incoherent?" Raven stared at him in disbelief. "How do they get any work done?"

"I guess that's what all of the slaves are for."
Veren shrugged. "I certainly wouldn't want some befuddled Arleian building my temples or castles. It'd probably come tumbling down around me with the first stiff breeze!"

"L
et's just hope our friend at the guardhouse is true to his word, and can get us through the gate without being seen." Damion's face was grim. "Every second we're forced to sit here, Tara and Susa get farther away!" He suddenly remembered their whole reason for coming to Arleia. "Did you happen to make any inquiries about the shadow dragons? Have there been any sightings in the area?"

Veren
shook his head. "The few locals that would speak to me claimed not to have heard anything about any dragons being seen in their land. Most wouldn't even talk to me, though. The people are a little tight lipped around here."

"We could ask a few of the patrons here if they have seen anything." Raven looked around the tavern
hopefully, but her face quickly fell. Many of the other patrons were still staring at Damion suspiciously, while others had made it a point to move to the opposite side of the room.

Damion glanced around, and then laughed humorlessly. "Good luck with that, but I really don't think you'll find much help here.
"

"Does this happen often?" A slight note of anger in her voice. "Do people always stare at you with such fear and hate?"

The huge warrior stared at her for a long moment, surprised by the heat in her voice. "Sometimes, but I have learned to ignore them." He waved to one of the serving girls for another round.

It was
almost midnight, and Veren and Raven had both fallen asleep in their chairs, when the pocked faced man finally appeared through the crowd. He quickly made his way over to their table and took a seat, his pale face flushed with excitement.

"We're happy to see you, friend." Damion smiled, breathing a silent sigh of relief. He slid the man a tankard of ale. "We never caught your name."
He nudged Veren and Raven gently to wake them.

"The name's Silsias." The man introduced himself with a nod. He took a long drink of the foaming ale, then sighed in relief. "I apologize for being so late, but the men that were meant to relieve us at our posts seemed to
have somehow gotten themselves killed." He smiled at them knowingly. "It took a little while to find some men to replace them."

Damion coughed
, then looked away guiltily.

Silsias laughed a barking laugh. "Don't worry, my friends. They will not be missed." He looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. "I have good news. One of my associates has agreed to get you through the
southern gate, for a price. That is the road that leads towards Daconia, and the direction the woman you are pursing was heading when she left Hthiss." He casually slid them a detailed map of the marshes. "You'll find the best route to avoid being noticed marked on this map. If you move quickly enough, and have a little luck on your side, you may be able to catch up to your quarry before she reaches the temples of Daconia."

"You have
proven yourself to be a true friend, Silsias." Damion said gratefully. "Is there anything we can do to repay you for your help?"

"Just don't get yourself caught or killed!" The man laughed. "And make sure you kick that slave chaser in the ribs for me a few times for sending my fellows to their deaths."

"Done!" Damion laughed.

S
ilsias quickly drained his tankard, then rose to his feet. "We have to move quickly to make sure that no one sees you leave. I'll wait outside for you while you gather your things, and then I'll lead you to the southern gate."

They quickly gathered their horses from the stables, then met Silsias in front of the tavern. He quickly led them down a number of side streets to avoid being noticed by any of the guards patrolling the streets, then called for everyone to halt in the shadows of a rundown warehouse.

"What's wrong?" Veren asked him in a hoarse whisper.

"There's a guard relaxing on a bench up ahead." The pock faced man whispered back. "There's no way around him." He cursed angrily. "Wait here."
He quickly slipped through the shadows towards the sleeping soldier, then without hesitating, he stepped into the torch light that lit the muddy streets for those still wandering around after dark. He angrily stomped over and kicked the sleeping soldier hard in the ribs, flipping the bench over and spilling the man into the slimy mud. "Wake up, you lazy dog!"

The man groaned in pain as he struggled to his feet, gasping desperately for breath. "Silsias! I..."

Silsias slapped the man hard across the face. "Sober up, man! You're late for your watch at the east gates!"

The man
rubbed his cheek gingerly, then looked around in confusion. "I-I am? I..."

"Get moving, man, before you get into more trouble!"

The soldier hesitated a moment longer, still confused, then quickly stumbled off towards the east gate.

Silsias watched the man disappear, then motioned for them to quickly join him.

"It was lucky he was late for his post at the gate, huh?" Veren whispered to the pock faced man as they continued their way toward the south gate.

"He wasn't." Silsias
smiled impishly. "He isn't supposed to report until dawn. But I know that man well, and he usually smokes a little swamp weed before passing out on some random bench. He usually isn't very coherent when he first wakes up, so I used it to my advantage."

They all tried
valiantly to muffle their laughter as they continued their way through the shadows towards the southern gate.

After nearly a half an hour of twisting and turning down the dark alleys of the city, the gate finally loomed into
view. They waited for several long minutes to be sure that no one would stumble upon them as they tried to make their way out of the city, then, following a quiet order from Silsias, they quickly made their way over to the small group of men standing watch over the heavy steel gates leading towards the south.

"
It's me." Silsias told the men as they approached. "Everything prepared?"

"Do they have gold?" One of the men asked warily.

Damion gestured to Veren, who groaned and tossed the man a heavy pouch of gold. "Why is it every time
I
get a bag of gold,
you
give it away?" The one eared man complained with a scowl.

The man opened the pouch, then smiled happily. "Everything's ready." He turned to the companions. "Make sure you don't get caught, stranger. I don't
want to hang for allowing you through."

"Don't worry." Damion assured him quietly. "No one will ever know we were here."

"Follow me." Silsias told them. He led them along the wall, away from the heavy steel gate.

"Where are we going?" Raven asked in confusion. "The gate is right there!"

The pock faced man shook his head. "Too many people are watching the gate, even at this hour. You're going to have to use the alternate gate."

They followed him along the wall until they reached an abandoned warehouse that had been constructed against the huge wall, then quietly led their horses through the moss covered archways and into the building's musty interior.
They cautiously made their way to the southern most wall, then paused as two hooded men appeared from the shadows.

"Is the way clear?" Silsias asked in a tense voice.

"It's clear," One of the men assured him in a raspy voice. "but they need to hurry to avoid being detected. One of the patrols should be returning any time now!"

Silsias turned to Damion. "
Be sure you stick to the route marked on the map. It's very easy to become hopelessly lost in the marshlands, and the swamps to the south are largely uncharted. Stay hidden if you can, and if not, don't leave any witnesses."

"We owe you a debt, my friend." Damion thanked him. "I hope someday to repay you for your help."

They followed the hooded men down a narrow ramp, then through a long corridor which had been carved through the foundation of the limestone wall that surrounded the city.

"Some slaver many years ago had this warehouse built,
" The hooded man told them as they made their way down the corridor. "then had his slaves carve this tunnel through the wall so he could smuggle slaves in and out without paying his taxes. Once he was hanged, the corridor was sealed off and forgotten. We rediscovered it, and, on occasion, we put it to good use."

They reached the far
end of the underground corridor and made their way up another ramp, this one nearly completely overgrown with a thick blanket of moss. A large mass of hanging vines had conveniently taken root above the tunnels entrance, completely obscuring it from view from any who happen to be wandering by.

T
he hooded man carefully pulled the curtain of green aside to allow them to lead their horses through, then wished them good luck. "Follow this trail to the southeast for about a mile, then it will join up with the main road heading south." Without another word, he disappeared back through the hangings vines, leaving them to their fates.

As soon
as he disappeared, Damion looked over to the others. "Let's take a moment to eat while we can." He started to walk away.

"What are you going to do?" Raven asked, taking a long drink from
Veren's wineskin.

"
I'm going to let Snowfeather know it's time to leave." Damion turned, and cast his thought into the night.
"Snowfeather? It's time to move!"
He waited for a moment, but didn't get a response. "
Snowfeather?
Where are you?"
There was a slight note of panic in his thought as a momentary wave of fear overtook him.

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