Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3)
Chapter 2: The Forgotten Library
Chapter 3: Trouble at Briarwick
Chapter 4: The Promise of Spring
Chapter 7: Illusions and Deceptions
Chapter 14: The Pillars of Sanguineous
Dedication and acknowledgements:
Redemption of the Sacred Land
Book 3 of the Sacred Land Saga
Mark Tyson
Shadesilver Publishing
Map
Copyright
Copyright © 2015, Mark E Tyson
Editing by Courtney Umphress
www.courtneyumphress.com
Cover Design by Shadesilver Publishing
Additional art (spine and back cover) by Joseph J. Calkins (
www.cerberusart.com
)
First Shadesilver Publishing electronic publication: February, 2015
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via internet or by any other means, electronic or print, without the author/publisher’s permission.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictionally and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States by Shadesilver Publishing 2015
Chapter 1: A Respite
The full moon dimly illuminated the darkened streets and passageways of the ancient, ruined city of By’temog, the former capital of the northern kingdom of Ishrak. From a vantage point on an overlooking hill, a dark-hooded figure surveyed the dead city. As the light of the full moon fell upon his cloak, the fabric periodically shimmered in and out of sight as if it did not wholly belong in the realm of the living, but rather had unearthly properties unknown. A gentle night breeze whistled through the nearby leafless trees, but the cloak remained still.
The ghostly entity was unaffected by the sudden appearance of three more dark beings approaching him. The Drasmyd Duil in the lead commanded his two Dramyd subordinates to stand alert and remain behind.
“Sythril no longer prowls the streets.” The figure’s guttural voice reverberated low and harsh. “Our enemies remain off guard, apparently set on a much needed rest, confident and secure.”
“They have forgotten you, Master, it is to your advantage.” The Drasmyd Duil folded his wings around himself like a curtain.
“No, Morgoran and Ianthill do not forget so conveniently. Lady Shey would know me if I came only a few steps nearer. For now, I am simply out of sight and out of mind.”
“They have grown careless, then.”
“Perhaps, but do not be so certain. I cursed General Sythril, and I cursed him for a specific reason. By’temog is a city of secrets—my secrets.”
“Do your secrets remain safe?”
“Not for much longer, I fear.” The dark stranger held up his hand in front of his face. His hand was beginning to fade. “I grow weak in this form. I am not strong enough to remain here.” He pointed to the spot where Dorenn and the rest had set up camp. “Watch them but do not act. Let them find him and free him; it will work to my advantage in the end, before all of this is over.”
“Master, if they free him, he will find the Silver Drake. It will be his singular purpose.”
As the cloaked figure faded from view, its guttural voice rattled on. “He will leave corpses in his wake, and that is why his freedom is to my advantage.”
Lady Shey handed the pipe she had just packed with tabac to Gondrial. He took the pipe and lit it with the stick he had burning in the campfire.
“Thank you,” he told her. She nodded and sat down on the fallen elm tree log beside him.
After Gondrial was satisfied his pipe was well lit, he poured himself an ale and sat back against the log. “Ah, amber ale. That Theosus fellow sure does know how to travel.”
“Are you certain he knows you are into his ale?” Shey asked.
Gondrial shrugged and grunted something before he downed more of the Pale drink
Trendan and Sanmir, after a brief scouting mission, returned to camp. Trendan helped himself to some of the ale while Sanmir found a place to sit.
“Any news, Trendan?” Gondrial asked.
Trendan took a swig before answering. “The city is quiet now. We didn’t find anything of note.”
“The night is as still as death.” Ianthill let out a great cloud of smoke. “And look at that moon, all silvery and full. It’s one of the brightest moons in recent memory. We could see sneaks far in advance.” He breathed in the night air. “It’s times like these that make life almost worth the trouble.”
“All that and a keg of ale,” Gondrial quipped.
“One day you will realize that life has more to offer than a stiff drink and a good time,” Ianthill rebutted.
Gondrial held up his tankard “May that dreadful day never come.”
Lady Shey decided to pour some of the ale for herself. She held out her free hand to Ianthill. “Do you need a refill, Ianthill?”
“Aye, since you are up.” He winked at her and handed over his half-empty tankard. “Come to think of it, have you two seen Vesperin or Fayne since breakfast?”
Lady Shey filled Ianthill’s tankard. “They were cleaning out the cracks in between the stones in Vesperin’s bedchamber with sharpened sticks the last time I saw them.”
“They were doing what?” Ianthill said and then chuckled. “Are they spending time together
cleaning
?”
Lady Shey handed Ianthill his tankard and sat down on the log beside Gondrial again. “I know. I asked them why in the world they were trying to clean out the crevices of an old ruin, and do you know what Vesperin told me?”
“This ought to be good,” Ianthill said.
“He said that they found an old gold coin lodged in one of the cracks and they were looking for more.”
Gondrial sloshed his ale. “Vesperin told you that? Since when does he care anything about worldly possessions? I thought all of those cleric-of-Loracia types had other,
higher
priorities.”
Lady Shey took a drink “I don’t know. He said he wanted to see if they could find any more of them.”
“To each his own,” Gondrial said before he took another drink. “Who are we to question or judge?”
Trendan downed his ale, upturned his tankard and placed it on top of the keg, and trudged off into the night.
“Was it something I said?” Gondrial asked.
“He is just coming to grips with life’s little troubles,” Sanmir said. “He will be all right; no need to worry.”
“I expected Morgoran and Dorenn to be back by now. It’s getting late,” Ianthill said.
“It’s not that late yet.” Gondrial got up to refill his tankard.
“Seriously, Gondrial, that has to be your fifth or sixth tankard. Go easy on that stuff. Shey, can’t you do something?” Ianthill inquired.
“It’s only my eighth, and after flying around on that damned ship, I need it.”
“You know I can’t do anything about it. And you know how he is when he gets going,” Shey said.
“Ah, I’ll have some of that ale!” It was Morgoran. “Before Gondrial finds the bottom.”
Ianthill reached into his pack nearby and produced Morgoran’s tankard. He tossed it to Morgoran. “Here you go; it’s almost clean.”
“Thank you, brother.”
Dorenn found his way to the fallen log and plopped down. “Are there anymore tankards about?” he asked.
“Trendan left one on the keg. I’ll pour you some,” Shey said. “Don’t go into any details until I get back.” She scurried off.
Morgoran took out his long-stemmed pipe and found his pouch of cherry blossom tabac. He sat down near Ianthill and began stuffing the pipe.
Lady Shey returned a few moments later with a filled tankard for Dorenn.
“Well?” Ianthill asked.
Morgoran lit his pipe. “He was there. Kerad is as good as Naneden’s lap dog now. All that time he was supposed to be taking care of me in my cursed state and he was planting seeds of betrayal.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Ianthill told him. “We were all fooled. Enowene worked side by side with him and never suspected, and she has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“So Kimala is found out, then.” Shey wondered but already knew the answer.
“Aye, from what we were told, Kerad made sure she was exposed as soon as he was able. We snooped around as much as we could without being detected, but we never did find her.”
Dorenn took a long drink from his tankard. “I thought I got a sense of Sylvalora at one point, too,” he said. “She may be there somewhere. I can’t be sure. I still don’t know how all of this is supposed to work.” He pointed to his head.
There was a long silence where Dorenn packed his pipe and Gondrial sucked down more ale.
Ianthill puffed another cloud of smoke before breaking the silence. “Oh, I did get a bit further on deciphering the tome. There are a few Amar runes that I recognized. It was a set of instructions basically saying that the tome can be read by those who need to see it the most, or some fool thing like that.”