Defenders of The Sacred Land: Book One of The Sacred Land Saga (6 page)

“Aye,” Sanmir replied, “it won’t get far.” Lady Shey remained silent for a long moment, but she did not take her eyes off Sanmir. “No one else saw it if that’s what you’re thinking,” the apothecary assured her.

“I knew I could trust you, my friend,” Lady Shey said smiling.

“Don’t be too appreciative, my lady, wherever there is a Shadow Lurker, there are bound to be Dramyds skulking about.”

“A Drasmyd Duil so close to town I could believe since they can disguise themselves, but a Dramyd is a different matter. I doubt they would come so close to a village full of traveling soldiers no matter how dimwitted they may be.”

Sanmir smirked. “True enough. Well, come on in and sit down. I will make you a cup of bittering tea.”

“I would be glad to,” Lady Shey said, “but could you make it something to aid my sleep instead? Bittering tea will keep me awake all night.”

Dorenn’s head bobbed sleepily and he almost fell out of the chair.

“Let me prepare a place for the boy to lie down and I will make you a soothing tea for sleep,” Sanmir offered.

Dorenn did not remember moving from the chair to the sleeping pallet until he realized he was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“He is fighting off the poison and sleep also, I’m afraid,” Sanmir said from somewhere above Dorenn’s head.

“We may be in for a rough night,” Lady Shey observed.

“I could prepare a powder,” Sanmir said thoughtfully, reaching for a nearby shelf.

“I don’t believe we need to interrupt his body’s natural resistances. If his fever does not subside in an hour or so we will try other measures. For now, let’s leave him be. He is no longer in danger.” She suddenly became jovial. “You always did have a way with poisons and antidotes, Sanmir.”

Dorenn stirred awake in a sweat. His nightclothes were drenched and his head hurt. He threw the quilt covering him aside and looked at his chest. It had no signs of the yellow mud or of the burns. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and focused on the room around him, his room! Had he dreamed it all? His window was open and a stiff morning breeze blew in. The boy stumbled to the window and closed it. He examined the window pane for signs of the Drasmyd Duil’s struggle to get at him but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The sun had not yet topped the Jagged Mountains, but the faint light of dawn filtered through the buildings and into Dorenn’s window. In the streets below not a soul stirred. Dorenn stepped away from the window and absently rubbed his temples.

Except for the headache and the fact that his chest itched, he didn’t seem to suffer any serious pain or discomfort. He decided to get dressed and go to Sanmir’s shop. Now that he was more coherent, he had questions he wanted answered. Using the water bowl and pitcher on his dressing table, Dorenn washed his face and combed his hair. He pulled on his green traveling tunic and leather pantaloons and headed off to see the apothecary. He cleverly avoided the kitchen help, including Tatrice, and slipped out the front door of the inn.

The cobblestone streets of Brookhaven seemed unnaturally barren, even at this early hour. The air was clean and crisp; there was a distinct odor of ash and pine burning in the chimneys as he walked to the apothecary’s shop and rapped lightly on the door, not knowing exactly what to expect.

Rennon opened the door. “Dorenn, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Is Sanmir in?”

“Of course he is,” Rennon answered. “But he is…um…busy right now.”

Dorenn stood at the door for a long moment, staring at Rennon who neither stepped aside nor offered to let him in.

“Well, may I see him?” Dorenn requested, becoming more agitated. “I am sure he will see me.”

Rennon sighed heavily. “I suppose so.”

Dorenn cocked an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you, Rennon? What are you trying to hide?”

“Nothing, I don’t know what you mean.”

Dorenn considered this. “Why are you acting so strange?”

“I’m not. I’m just surprised to see you here so early in the morning.”

Sanmir walked into the room from the back of his shop where he mixed his potions and salves. “Here you go, Rennon.” He held a small leather bag and a small tin. “This should be enough to keep you for a couple of months, and I have also packed you some sickle root salve in case—” Sanmir stopped cold when he saw Dorenn, and then he regained his composure. “Oh, hello, Dorenn.”

“What is going on here?” Dorenn asked suspiciously.

“What do you mean?” Sanmir retorted.

“What is that bag for, and that tin?” Dorenn eyed Rennon then looked back at Sanmir.

“It’s a special brew of bittering tea for Rennon to take on the trip to Symbor,” Sanmir said, “and the tin is sickle root salve for minor cuts and scrapes.”

“We will only be gone a couple of weeks, why did you make him so much?”

Rennon faltered. “Um…well…”

“In case he is inclined to share some of course,” Sanmir said. His facial expression became anxious. “So what brings you here?” Sanmir asked, changing the subject. “Vesperin and Trendan have already come last evening to deliver Rennon’s summons.”

Dorenn furled his brows. “Something strange is going on here, and it began with the arrival of Lady Shey.”

“Lady who?” Rennon asked.

“Shey. She arrived from the mountains yesterday and visited this shop late last night. Didn’t Vesperin and Trendan tell you about her when they were here?”

Sanmir took a deep breath. “It is true she visited here late last night; she is an old friend of mine. She wanted to purchase some adeflect bark for her headache. Naturally I gave her some at no charge, and then we had bittering tea and conversation, but how did you know she was here Dorenn?”

“Because I was here as well,” Dorenn said angrily, “and she didn’t want bittering tea or adeflect bark, although she did want something to help her sleep.”

“You were here? Why didn’t you come in and have some bittering tea then?” Sanmir asked.

“I was attacked by a Drasmyd Duil, don’t you remember? You rubbed yellow mud all over my chest.”

Sanmir’s expression went blank. “I did?”

“I don’t believe you,” Dorenn said frustrated. “I was here; you brought me here after you got rid of the Shadow Lurker.”

“I am sorry, Dorenn, but I never left the shop last night.”

“What’s all this Drasmyd Duil business?” Rennon asked. “What in Fawlsbane’s beard is a Drasmyd Duil?”

Sanmir handed the bag and tin to Rennon with a stern look. “It’s a creation of a madman, a ruthless, vile wielder called Toborne. It lived during the War of the Oracle,” Sanmir answered. He turned his gaze back to Dorenn. “You must have had a nightmare.”

For a moment Dorenn became confused. It did seem distant like a dream. The details slipped from his mind as if he had heard Sanmir talking to Lady Shey with his head submerged under water.

“Come on, Dorenn, let’s go back to the inn and have some breakfast. Your father will want us to leave for Symbor soon,” Rennon suggested.

Dorenn stood staring into Sanmir’s face, searching for some sign of deception but found none. “Aye, Rennon, I am a bit hungry. One of mother’s honey cakes with a slice of ham is tempting.” Dorenn blinked as if he were waking from a trance.

“Let’s go,” Rennon said. Dorenn nodded blankly, and the two boys left Sanmir’s shop for the inn.

Sanmir watched as the boys left down the street. He blinked and shifted his eyes when he heard the sound of rustling from behind him. “Ah, there you are. I see you found the rear door I left open for you.”

“Naturally,” a feminine voice said.

”You can’t keep him in the dark long, Shey. He already senses something is not quite right.”

“I would be disappointed if he didn’t,” Lady Shey said as she stepped out from behind a shelf of dark colored bottles and jars.

“And what if he realizes you have just befuddled his memory? What will you do then?”

“Eh,” Lady Shey shrugged, “I doubt he’ll ever realize it. He is still naïve about such things. Sylvalora says he is definitely the one we seek. If she is right, why not let him remain innocent a while longer.”

“And what of Rennon, what does Sylvalora say about him?”

Lady Shey smiled and Sanmir smiled back. “Your apprentice has his place. You have done a fine job with him.”

Sanmir lowered his head. “I have watched these boys grow from womb to fine young men. I think I should come along to Symbor as well.”

“No, my old friend, we discussed this last night. You are better to remain here for the time being. Don’t forget the reason Ianthill sent you here.”

Sanmir feigned a weak smile and nodded. “Oh, you’re right of course. I have taught Rennon all I know of potions and cures; I would trust him to take over this very shop if need be. I just wish Ianthill would have chosen another; I have a tendency to grow too fond of my students.”

“Actually, that is precisely the reason Ianthill choose you,” Lady Shey reminded him.

Sanmir’s left eyebrow shot up. “I fail to see the advantage in emotional attachment. It causes doubt and worry. I am not the boy’s father, and I can’t always be around to lend help.”

“I disagree. Your teachings are very valuable to Rennon. You have given him the sense of purpose he sorely needed. You are with him in your teachings if not in spirit.”

“Perhaps you’re right. I am very fond of the boy.”

Lady Shey smiled. “Of course.”

Sanmir faced Lady Shey. “I am aware of the Drasmyd Duil’s ability to disguise itself, my lady. Who did it appear as this time?”

“I can’t be sure, but I think it traveled here under the guise of Fadral the Peddler.”

“You suspected him and did nothing?” Sanmir asked shocked.

“They have mastered their craft over the seasons it seems. If it was under the guise of Fadral, its illusion was near flawless, not like the Drasmyd Duil of old. There was no stench to give it away.” Lady Shey looked at Sanmir uneasily. “It was very convincing, right down to Fadral’s unusual personality.”

Sanmir nodded. “Remarkable, it looks as if you have your work cut out for you.” Sanmir looked at the position of the sun. “You best be going, my lady. You will be missed at breakfast.”

“Aye, you are right. Just remember what I have told you, and make sure you are prepared when the time comes.”

“I will, now go on,” Sanmir said.

Chapter 4: The Southern Road

Stableman Durn had already hitched the team and made the wagon ready for travel by the time Dorenn arrived at the stable. Rennon inspected the harnesses and then stowed his pack on the wagon. He usually asked to handle the reins, and Dorenn planned to let him drive the whole way if only to avoid the constant badgering. Rennon looked up after stowing his pack and smiled thinly at Dorenn.

“I am ready here,” he said. “I was wondering, Dorenn, did you plan to take the reins this trip?”

Dorenn smiled to himself. “No, Rennon, I thought I would leave that task to you.”

Rennon had a look of satisfaction. “I will take my place on the wagon then.” Dorenn nodded and glanced around. “Any sign of the others yet?”

“No, but I expect they will be coming along soon,” Rennon said as he climbed onto the wagon.

Lady Shey, Rodraq, and the elf maiden appeared just after the sun topped the Jagged Mountains. Dellah Adair prepared breakfast for them while the stable hands saddled three mounts for the guards. Rodraq and his men were to ride disguised as merchant hands as ordered by Lady Shey. Tatrice and Vesperin appeared soon after and began to load the provisions. Nervously, Rennon stepped down to once again inspect the team and check the horses’ shoes. Rennon’s black hair fell down in front of his olive face, and he pushed it aside each time he inspected a horse. Dorenn noticed Rennon brushing the hair aside repeatedly. “Rennon, when are you going to let Sanmir cut that hair?”

“Why, it defines my character,” Rennon said.

“What character? You look like a young maiden!” Dorenn said, and he smiled when he heard Tatrice snicker from behind the wagon.

“I will tie it back. Perhaps someday I will get it trimmed.”

“Let’s hope that day comes sooner than later,” Dorenn said. Rennon grinned and shook his head.

Lourn came out of the inn from the side door with two coin pouches, which he handed to Dorenn. “Here is the gold needed for the ale. Since Lady Shey and her maiden are going along with you, I am sending Tatrice along as well to purchase the dry goods I need.” Lourn held his hand up to stop Dorenn from interrupting. “I know you can shop for dry goods, but Tatrice knows paprika from oregano, and I doubt you would care to visit all the shops for the best price the same way she would. Lady Shey insisted that Tatrice come along anyway since many of the shop owners know her face from the many trips with your mother and me. Lady Shey does not want to rouse attention while she is there on business, and I don’t blame her. Are there any questions then?”

“No, Father, I have everything well in hand.” Dorenn grimaced at his own words.

“Good, Dorenn.” Lourn kissed his son on the forehead. “Do be careful, son.”

“I will, Father,” Dorenn replied.

“Now, go and kiss your mother.”

“Yes, Father,” Dorenn obeyed.

Dorenn found his mother in the kitchen. She looked as if she had been up all night. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot and her hair was unkempt.