“I’m afraid I have no idea, I was not privy to their meeting only the detail of Max’s need for a healer.
“Well, he doesn’t need one now,” Tobias said as he spun around and headed back towards the main house.
“Kellet shook his head in distaste at Tobias’s rude behavior,
“Forgive him, Kelenvor, he is angry with grief. You’re more than welcome to stay for the funeral if you like. I’ll have someone prepare you a room.
“Thank you,” Kelenvor replied as he followed Kellet into the village.
By mid-afternoon, all preparations were complete, and the whole of those attending now stood gathered under the magnificent willow tree that sat in the center of the village cemetery.
Here was the final resting place for every Thorn Caller that had died in the past two hundred years. The graves of their brothers who had been killed in the attack on the village were still fresh, as they weaved their way through the headstones carrying Max’s funeral box.
Each person took a moment to say goodbye as the box was lowered into the ground. When the last shovel of dirt had been placed on top, Tobias drove Max’s sword into the ground. Then summoned a Fae-rose vine to wrap itself around the blade. Its beautiful flowers and deadly poisonous thorns would stand as both a marker and protection for their friend’s grave.
As the funeral came to an end, and the people attending headed to the memorial feast, Tobias stopped Kelenvor just out of hearing range to the others.
“Tell me, priest, when our brother came to the tower, did he know of Max’s death? I sent a message raven days ago.
“I heard nothing of a raven, but the Arch-mage spoke as if he was under the belief Max was severely ill but alive.
Tobias only nodded then moved away towards the others, leaving Kelenvor to ponder what may be causing him such suspicion.
15
Esmerelda Daltorea sat quietly upon her throne, gone were the council members, and no other nobles lingered inside the great hall. Her thoughts occupied with what she had learned from her exiled son. Could he have found someone willing to help him obtain the Dragons Heart?
She knew that it would be a dangerous thing. Her son coveted one thing only, power. He would do anything to get it, including using that stone to take her place on the throne.
It was bad enough she had to exile her daughter for disobeying, but at least she did so openly. Zannith was too smart for that. He would play the good son until the opportune moment for him to strike. This is a trait she would typically admire from anyone else. But not one she could afford to tolerate from her son.
She quickly decided she would let Zannith play out his little scheme, then take that power for herself. She reached up and pulled the silver chord that rang for her servant. And take it, I shall, she thought as her servant came rushing into the room.
“Tell Allister I require him.”
Rone and his companions had ridden through the day and late into the evening before stopping to make camp. They found a nice clearing just a few yards off the road that showed signs of being a regular resting stop for those heading to and from the city. Then unrolled their bedding and tethered the horses close by to graze on a clover patch.
Traijen wandered off to collect firewood leaving Rone uncomfortably alone with Trisha. The two barely spoke as they waited for his return. Finally, unable to stand the awkwardness any longer, Rone spoke first.
“So, what made you want to be a mage?” He asked Trisha as he stacked rocks in a circle for the fire.
“What do you mean made me?” She asked, giving him an angry look.
“Nothing, I was just making conversation is all.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. His friendly tone made her flush with embarrassment at her heated question.
“Oh, well, nothing made me. I was born with Sol magic, so it just seemed like becoming a mage would be the best use for that.”
“Don’t most born with sun magic become healers or clerics?” Rone asked curiously.
“Many do, but I’m not much on the religious side. Besides, being an elemental mage is more fun,” she said with a grin.
“I wouldn’t know,” Rone replied as he placed the last rock in the circle. Trisha was about to say something else when the sound of something substantial crashing through the nearby forest, caused her to leap to her feet.
“What on earth is that?” she asked, moving closer to Rone.
“That would be my dog,” he chided, poking fun at her earlier use of the word to describe Fang.
“How do you know that? Can you see him?” She asked, straining to see into the darkened forest.
“No, I just do.” He replied frankly.
“I can always tell when he is nearby. I don’t know how it’s just a feeling I get.”
Trisha was still staring into the dark when the shadow of the big blink wolf burst out of the tree line and bounded towards them.
“See, told you, just Fang,” Rone added. Trisha smiled in response, but her uneasiness was still apparent as she sat back down. This time a little closer to the makeshift hearth. She was going to ask how he, and the big wolf became partners when a quick raise of Rone's hand made her fall silent.
Rone strained to hear the forest around them, and Fang sat upon his rear haunches, also watching the tree line.
“What is it?” Trisha whispered, looking in the direction Rone and Fang were staring, but seeing nothing.
“Traijen should have been back by now, and I can’t hear anything.”
“Well, that’s good, right? If there were trouble, we would hear it, right?” Trisha asked, somewhat shakily.
“Problem is, I don’t hear anything. No night birds, no insects, nothing.” His pointing this out now made her realize he was right. There was no sound coming from the nearby woods. The unusual silence caused the hair on her neck to stand, as ridges of chill bumps spread up her arms.
Rone eased over to the horses, retrieved his bow and double-checked their bindings, making sure they wouldn’t be able to escape if they were startled.
“I need to find Traijen, something is very wrong, and I want to make sure he is ok. You want to come with me or wait here?” He asked Trisha, never taking his eyes off the tree line.
“Well, I’m not staying here,” she answered softly. As the eerie silence made her almost afraid to be too loud.
Rone was also noticing that even with his elven sight, making the surrounding area seem much brighter than it was. He could not see past the line of trees at the edge of the forest. Something, or someone, was preventing it. Fang’s sudden deep growl and seeing the shackles of fur raise on his back Rone notched an arrow and waited.
“Get ready,” he whispered to Trisha.
“Ready for what?” she whispered, but a sudden crashing sound from the nearby forest answered for him.
Fang leaped forward teeth flashing in the moonlight as he met the cause of the noise in a rush.
“Bog Hag!” Rone shouted, immediately releasing arrows one after the other. His words once again forced chill bumps to streak up Trisha’s arms.
Bog Hags are vile things that take the form of an elderly woman. They can manipulate the air around them, creating a fog to hide themselves in, preventing their prey from knowing they are there until they strike. They have been known to stay hidden for days at a time, just to stalk their prey. Especially in the murky swamp regions, they call home. To see one this far from their swamps, and this close to a city is almost unheard of.
Fang responded first, plowing into the creature’s chest, causing it to howl in rage. As he did, his teeth sank into its shoulder just below the neckline. The sickening green ooze that was its blood, now soaked fangs fur as his jaws tore into more flesh.