Knight of Strolm by A L Hardy & J S Welch

Author:A L Hardy & J S Welch [Hardy, A L & Welch, J S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Proud of their Kin for defeating the Fey, the Great Dragons granted Seals to the elite among the Kin - giving them each magical proficiency in a skill to be passed down to their posterity and marking them forever as leaders among the Kin.

*

Xardan led his warhorse off the ferry and into the busy town of Riverguard with Ilays right behind. Her hair was dark and long, pulled back away from her face and falling down to the small of her back. Her ears were rounded and her facial features were Changed to not betray her Lythrain parentage.

The pair mounted and let the crowd steer their horses down the main road; several minutes of silence passed as Xardan looked over the heads of the crowd before Ilays spoke.

“How do you expect to find Jurod?” she asked.

“I don’t.” Xardan replied, “I expect to find Justyn, I expect you to find Jurod.”

Xardan reached into his purse and handed Ilays a gold drop.

“I had a pair of drops enchanted years ago so that the bearers of each drop could find each other. The farther the drops get from each other, the stronger the draw that they create. Do whatever you must to find Jurod, then follow the drop's pull until we meet again."

Without waiting for a response, Xardan spurred his horse into a gap in the crowd and disappeared into a small, dark alley.

Ilays immediately began to feel the drop’s draw toward its counterpart and turned her horse in the opposite direction. She wove easily through the crowd to an herbalist’s shop that she frequented whenever she found herself stranded in Riverguard.

Ilays dismounted and tied her horse off at the railing before retrieving her blades from her saddle and tying them around her waist. She climbed the two familiar steps up to the door and entered the small, dark room. Pots of plants covered every wall and shelf in the room and left a dank, foul and somehow comforting aroma.

A stooped, robed figure limped out of the back room leaning heavily on a knotted wood cane.

“Welcome back, Ilays Lythrain-kind.” The robed figure greeted.

“Quietly Vilitha! You know that title can get me killed here.” Ilays replied.

“And you know, Ilays,” Vilitha answered, “That I am too careful to endanger my guests. What brings you back to my door, young one?”

Ilays rolled her eyes in exasperation at the old Kin before she responded, “I need to Scry a companion of mine, and I’d not like the Dragon Lords to know that I’ve Focused.”

“I see,” Vilitha contemplated, “and do you have something of his that I can use to find him?”

Ilays slowly shook her head, as she explained, “Unfortunately not but he shouldn’t be difficult to find anyway; he’s a half-Lythrain, and a Knight.”

“Ah...” Vilitha muttered, “That shouldn’t be hard at all.”

Ilays felt Vilitha Focus through her cane as the pair turned to a cauldron of boiling water. Vilitha’s hand waved over the pot and the water immediately cooled leaving a serene, clear surface. The old herbalist wove the Scrying spell and clouded images began to flash across the surface of the water.

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