Quest for the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga Book 3) Page 2

  Grig steered the horse and cart through the gateway leading to the inn’s huge courtyard. Nearly every scrap of space was filled with waggons, tents and carts. Dozens of campfires were lit, where folk too poor to pay for a room were forced to seek shelter. Men, women and children huddled close to the flames to stave off the cold of the rapidly approaching winter. Standing in the centre of the courtyard was the tall, imposing shape of a rune stone. The monoliths were imbued with magical power that kept Fell Beasts at bay; it was one of the main reasons folks chose to stop at the Sundial. Wandering the kingdom’s roads was dangerous at the best of times, but if you were out at night and far from the safety of a stone, then the chances of survival were slim.

  Huin pointed to a patch of open ground. He leapt from the driver’s board and grabbed one of the horses by the reins. Whispering into the animal’s ear, he gently led the animal into the space. Grigg grunted in satisfaction as they came to a halt. He pulled the brake and climbed down, then banged on the side of the cart to let its occupants know that they had reached safety.

  “Everybody out. We’ve finally reached the Sundial,” he said before helping Huin with the horses.

  The cart rocked slightly as a group of people climbed out of the back. The last of the occupants to disembark was Kaiden. His wife, Alira, took his hand and helped him out. He winced as a sharp pain lanced through his side; the wound he had suffered in the city of Stormglade was healing, but still, it pained him. His daughter, Ilene, clung tightly to her mother’s skirts; the sights and sounds of the bustling Sundial scared her.

  “It’s all right, little one. We are safe here,” Alira soothed.

  Kaiden moved to help the other refugees from the Watchers set up camp in the courtyard, and before long they had a campfire roaring and a pot of Robintan tea boiling. Alira and the others set up places for them to sleep. A few would sleep in the back of the cart, the others either under it or close by. They had settled into a routine that had served them well on the long, arduous journey.

  Kaiden walked over to the horse that had been tied to the back of the cart and stroked it.

  “Easy, old friend, we’re safe now,” he said into the animal’s ear.

  The horse stamped its feet and nuzzled its head against its master. Herald was getting on in years, but no trustier steed could a man hope to meet. Kaiden had wept in relief when Alira had told him that the animal had escaped the Watchers. The refugees had found him waiting on the roadside.

  “I reckon another four days on the King’s Road north, and we should reach the border of Caldaria,” Grig said as he looked at a map that they had purchased from one of the many pedlars that wandered the kingdom’s roads.

  He, Huin, Kaiden and Alira were sat next to the fire, reading the faded parchment by its flickering light.

  The pedlar they had met had been travelling from Kingsford to Sunguard. He had been in a foul mood, and had constantly moaned about his wasted trip. Sarpi ships had blockaded the realm’s biggest port city, and the baron of the region had ordered the gates barred to prevent enemy agents from infiltrating the city. With the King’s Navy at the bottom of the harbour, there was nothing to strike back with. Only the city’s heavily fortified walls were preventing the Sarpi from launching a full-scale assault via the sea. The pedlar had explained that the baron was waiting for the onset of winter; the high waves created by the changing seasons and moons would force the Sarpi fleet to seek shelter or risk being smashed to pieces.

  “We’re not going north,” Kaiden said.

  The others looked at him in surprise.

  “What do you mean?” Huin baulked. “We’ll be safe in Caldaria; you said so yourself.”

  Kaiden looked at his companions through the flames. Ever since he had regained consciousness, a thought had been nagging at his mind. Now that they were at the Sundial, the thought had grown in strength until he could think of nothing else. He looked at his wife and reached for her hand.

  “I cannot sit idly by while the kingdom falls into chaos. Heading north may mean our safety, but for how long? We all know the enemy we face, if we cower behind the crystal walls, it won’t be long before Danon is at the gates.”

  Grig frowned. “What are you proposing? Remember, the lives of your wife and child may depend on what you say.”

  Kaiden squeezed his wife’s hand and looked into her eyes. “When we first met I was a Knight of Niveren. I gave up that life to be with you, and I vowed never to take up arms again. For a time that worked, and we were happy, but then the Sarpi came …” His voice croaked. “I was forced to take up my sword once more to save you. I now know that making that vow was foolish; we cannot control the world around us. There will always be dangers. Always a reason to fight.”

  Alira placed a finger on his lips, a faint smile on her face.

  “What are you trying to say, my love?” she asked.

  “I want to head east to Lake Sumil.”

  “Sumil? The Knights of Niveren no longer exist,” scoffed Huin, who had crossed his arms and was staring angrily into the flames.

  “I know that. The knights disbanded after their annihilation at Eclin. My brothers – my friends – never returned from that city. That is why I want to go to Sumil. The realm is being invaded by the enemy – the true enemy, an enemy that the Knights of Niveren were created to fight. Now that Danon has launched his war, the knights are needed now more than ever before.” There was passion in Kaiden’s voice.

  An awkward silence fell over the group as they digested what had been said.

  “If he wants to go to Sumil, let him,” Huin said. “We can give him one of the horses while we head to Caldaria as originally planned. Grig, we’ve been hunted by Witch Hunters, arrested by soldiers, and kidnapped by N’gist since we left the crystal city. We have only been safe there. Look around you,” he said, lowering his voice. “If any of these people knew we were wielders, they would have us lynched.”

  The persecution of magic wielders had grown in intensity since the fall of the Watchers. The cult of Niveren had increased its rhetoric against magic, and had blamed the mages for everything from the assassination of the former regent, Davik, to the war. As fear swept the kingdom, the common folk had persecuted wielders with a renewed frenzy.

  Grig poked at the fire with a stick. He sighed heavily and looked at Kaiden.

  “I’m not one for believing in destiny, lad,” the old healer said, “but these past few weeks have made me question things. The chances of us meeting each other again after so many years, and under such circumstances, is just too much of a coincidence. If the gods still watch this world, then I fear that they may have brought us together. What that purpose is, I do not know, but what I do know is that I cannot run and hide in the face of such evil.”

  Huin looked at his companion in surprise. “We are healers. What can we do?”

  Grig smiled. “Before this war is over, there will be a great need for healers. If that means me helping Kaiden here, then so be it. He’s right. The Knights of Niveren are needed – now more than ever.”

  Alira squeezed the old man’s hand. “Thank you, Grig. I am a mage, and my husband is a knight. He can change the thinking of the people about wielders. Perhaps Huin can go to Caldaria and tell the mages of what we intend? All the peoples of Delfinnia will have to work together to beat Danon. What better sign of that unity than mages fighting side by side with the Knights of Niveren.”

  A loud round of applause came from the Sundial as Eripa finished her set. The inn’s patrons began to filter out of the wide double doors that led into the courtyard. Many of them headed to their tents or wagons, while the rest drifted off back to their homes that lay just outside the inn’s walls.

  “We should get some sleep, “ Grig yawned. “It’s been a long day.”

  *

  Birdsong marked the dawn. The sound of people preparing their wagons for journeys had begun as soon as the sun had peeked over the eastern horizon. Kaiden had been awake long before the sunris
e; his thoughts were troubled.

  He couldn’t help but worry about the friends he had been forced to leave behind at the Watchers. News of the battle had been unreliable, but one common detail was that dragons had been involved. The descriptions of a silver dragon had set his mind at ease; if Umbaroth had returned, then there was a good chance that his friends were still alive.

  He walked inside the inn and carefully worked his way past the snoring patrons. Most had fallen asleep where they had sat, or had found a spot on the floor to make their beds. The influx of refugees meant that the innkeeper was making a fortune from charging people for a spot of floor space. No one seemed to mind at this blatant profiteering; most folks were just happy to have a roof over their heads and a spot near a fireplace. Kaiden reached the long oak bar that dominated the back wall and sat on a barstool. At this time of the morning, he was surprised to see the innkeeper busy at work cleaning glasses.

  “It’s too early for ale, friend,” the innkeeper said.

  “Is it too early to get some food?” Kaiden replied “My group will be leaving soon, and we need something for the road.” He reached into his tunic and pulled out a small bag of Delfins.

  “You’re lucky,” the innkeeper said. “The roads to Robinta are still open despite the capital’s best attempts at closing it. Plenty of food still coming in despite the squabbling of the barons. I can provision you with a sack of bread, cheese and, for a bit extra, some venison. I suppose you’ll also be needing some water; there are some barrels out the back.”

  Kaiden emptied his bag and slid three gold coins over to the innkeeper.

  “Venison it is, then,” the man said happily. “I’ll get one of my workers to load up your wagon.”

  “Before you do that, what can you tell of the road to Sumil?” Kaiden asked. He slid another coin across the counter.

  The innkeeper’s smile widened.

  “Of course, sir. There’s not been much news from out that way since the knights disbanded a few years back. A few pedlars still walk the road, however. One came in about a week back saying that he saw lights in the tower of Sumil, as though someone had taken up residence in the knights’ old priory. Aside from that, the only folks travelling through those lands are refugees escaping Balnor to the east, or brigands.”

  Kaiden frowned at the news. Had someone taken up residence in Sumil? He thanked the innkeeper and hurried outside. Reaching the wagon, he found Alira and the others up and about preparing it for travel. Grig was talking with Huin; the younger healer had decided to head north to Caldaria with some of the refugees.

  “Ah, Kaiden,” Grig greeted. “The wagon should be ready to travel within the hour. After you had gone to bed, I walked the courtyard and asked around. Another group has been kind enough to allow Huin and a few of the others to travel north with them. Safety in numbers and all that.”

  “That’s good news.”

  Kaiden offered Huin his hand. The mage looked at it for a moment before shaking it.

  “Good luck on the road, Huin. We will be waiting to hear from you at Sumil,” Kaiden said. “I’ll tell the mages what it is you’re planning. Even if they don’t send people to join your cause, I may be able to convince them to send supplies your way.”

  Huin embraced Grig before saying his goodbyes to the others. He gave Ilene a big hug, making her giggle loudly. With a last wave, he walked into the growing crowd of people that had formed in the Sundial’s courtyard. A dozen wagons rumbled out of the gates and onto the road beyond. Behind them walked, even more people.

  Kaiden stood at Grig’s side as he watched his friend depart. The old man wiped a tear from his eye, took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and blew his nose.

  “He’ll be fine, Grig. You’ll see.”

  “I hope so,” Grig replied softly.

  3.

  Darkness combined with strange sounds that echoed within Luxon’s consciousness. At first he thought he heard screams and the terrible sounds of battle. Then silence. The sound of leathery wings flapping came to him; the rhythm was hypnotic, yet comforting. He blacked out again, and this time when he stirred only silence greeted him. Slowly he opened his blue eyes to find himself lying on a bed in a darkened room. Memories of his many visits to the Medica in Caldaria flitted into his mind, but here there was no painting of Zahnia the Great to greet him. Instead, shining in the flickering candlelight, was a statue of the famous wizard instead, made of gold. It was intricately carved so that every wrinkle and hair was captured in exquisite detail. He forced his gaze from the shining metal and took in the rest of the strange room.

  A small window was high on the far wall, and the sound of lapping waves carried through the clear glass. At the side of the bed was a chest inlaid with gold leaf, on the walls were paintings of scenes that he couldn’t recognise, and a long tapestry was hanging next to a heavy looking wooden door. His eyes widened as he recognised the symbol sewn into the tapestry; it was the golden serpent, the symbol of the Diasect. His mind raced. Where was he? The Diasect had been the council that helped the kings of Delfinnia rule the land. Danon’s bride, Cliria had slain them all, save one … his mother.

  Luxon fought back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He had spent years searching for her, and now she was gone. The pain in his heart was almost unbearable.

  His limbs felt weak, and he felt sick. The bucket on the floor at his bedside attested to the illness the Void sickness had inflicted upon his body. He sat up and groaned as pain lanced through his whole body. He gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain until he had thrown off the heavy blankets and had swung his feet over the side of the bed. He was wearing a tunic of white linen and a pair of brown trousers. Someone had been tending to him for the clothes smelt clean and recently laundered.

  He gasped as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor. Again the world spun, but he was determined to stand and find out where he was. Had he been captured at the Watchers? Was he now Danon’s prisoner? He had no idea. The battle had been a blur; he had very little recollection of what had transpired. Were his friends safe? Concern filled him as terrible images of Hannah being captured flashed in his mind. He shook his head to try and clear the vision. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus his magic. As he did so, more visions flashed before his eyes.

  Scenes of horror: Ferran and Sophia’s broken bodies; Kaiden impaled on a spike; Hannah lying unmoving covered in blood. A booming mocking laughter, and out of the darkness strode Danon, a wicked smile on his deformed face. At his right stood Accadus, wearing a similar foul grin, and to the left was Yepert being led in chains. Panic swelled within Luxon.

  He opened his eyes and realised that his throat was sore; he had been screaming. Hurried footsteps came from outside the room. Luxon desperately looked around the room for a weapon, anything he could use to defend himself. The footsteps stopped outside and whispered voices came through the wooden door. He was about to try channelling his magic again, but the vision he had seen made him hesitate. The door opened.

  Yepert was standing in the doorway, his face full of concern. Next to him stood a woman with long silver hair and piercing blue eyes. She wore a dress made of blue silk that touched the floor, and around her throat was an amulet bearing the sigil of the Diasect. She looked at him for a few moments.

  “He’s awake this time, see,” Yepert said.

  “He has done this before, Yepert. This time, we must make sure that he is truly with us,” the woman said cautiously. She placed a hand on Yepert’s chest to stop him from entering the room.

  Luxon sat on the bed. His limbs were trembling; he felt as weak as a newborn.

  “Where am I?” he asked wearily.

  Yepert looked at the strange woman, his eyes wide. He pointed at Luxon.

  “He spoke! He hasn’t done that the last few times,” he said eagerly.

  The woman frowned before cautiously walking into the room. Luxon noticed that in her right hand she held a mage’s staff. As she approached,
she held the staff out before her as though she was using it to protect herself. Luxon frowned. Why did she need protection?

  “What is your name?” the woman asked.

  Luxon looked at her and then at Yepert. The look on his friend’s face told him to answer her seriously. Suddenly feeling nervous, he replied with his name. A look of utter relief crossed the woman’s face. She lowered the staff and smiled.

  “Thank Niveren for that. The delirium has finally passed. Forgive me, Luxon, but the staff was for our protection. The Void sickness had made you delirious and dangerous. You appeared to awaken before, but when we tried to help you, you got violent.”

  Luxon slumped back onto the bed.

  “My name is Lycia.” The woman said. “I am the Lady of the Isle. You are in the hidden sanctum of Zahnia; there is nowhere else in the world as safe as here.”

  Luxon looked at her in disbelief. The sanctum of Zahnia? The place was just a myth; he had read about it in the lore books in Caldaria’s Great Library. It was said that the island was the place where the gods had first set foot in the world. According to the legends, the Isle was the birthplace of magic. It was here that the Diasect had raised and trained a young Zahnia to battle the N’gist and end the Dark Ages.

  “How did I get here?” he asked, his mind reeling.

  Yepert hurried over to him.

  “Umbaroth took us.”

  “Umbaroth? What…?”

  Luxon rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t seen his friend the King of Dragons since the day of King Alderlade’s coronation. The silver dragon had flown off into the sky to find a new land for his kin. Years later, he had encountered other dragons, ones hostile to Delfinnia. They had discovered that a rival dragon had usurped Umbaroth and had begun to attack the kingdom. Of the location of the silver dragon, he had never known, but now it seemed that Umbaroth had been watching all along. He was happy that the great dragon was still alive.