Seeds of Dominion by Quincy J. Allen

Author:Quincy J. Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: eldros legacy, fantasy, epic fantasy, rellen, demons, intrigue, mystery, hero
Publisher: Eldros Legacy
Published: 2023-04-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The Value of Patience

With rain pouring down almost nonstop, the next four days passed without incident. Rellen didn’t risk another reconnoiter. He didn’t need to. He’d gotten what he wanted, and like a good hunter, he’d wait to move another step closer in plain sight of his prey. Rellen and Miranda kept up their regularly scheduled pissing matches. The other travelers had even started to anticipate them, even Javyk and Dancer. Like clockwork, Javyk would then put Mr. Bawth to sleep and heal Dancer’s back. It was hard to tell, but even at that distance, it seemed to Rellen that the wound looked just a little worse after each of Javyk’s ministrations. Rellen suspected the zokurios was fighting a losing battle.

From time to time, they got a glimpse of the Sylverwylde Mountains rising slowly above the tree line and dominating the horizon. On the morning of the fifth day, the rain stopped, and the forest opened up. The mountains were a high, jagged line from left to right. Straight ahead lay Sylverwynd, a rugged-looking city almost as large as Svennival. It lay at the base of a relatively straight and very deep mountain pass that followed a wide river flowing out of the mountains.

The original walled keep of Sylverwynd, a sturdy-looking structure with lines distinctly not Pelinese, was set into a high hillside, surrounded by the rest of a very large city.

Delvers had built the fortress at the behest of Pelinon’s king six hundred years earlier, and throughout the city were clusters of stone buildings and towers done in the same style.

Those were the warren-like enclaves where Delvers thrived and generally isolated themselves from the predominantly human populace. They’d been built as high as four and even five stories, and the human homes and shops flowed out from them. They traded and sometimes worked with humans, but they didn’t mingle with them.

Although Sylverwynd wasn’t a ducal seat, it sat upon the largest trade crossroads along the entire Sylverwylde range. The city spread out as if it had tumbled out of the mountain pass like a landslide. A faint but persistent pall of smoke floated above the city, borne of the countless wood-and-coal-burning forges that made up a good portion of the city’s industry.

Mountains meant gems, minerals, and ores. Those meant forges, and forges meant all manner of trade goods derived from them. Sylverwynd was renowned for everything from exceptional jewelry to some of the best weapons and armor available anywhere.

A quarter mile from the edge of Sylverwynd, the caravan turned down a wide road of irregularly shaped, dark gray cobblestones that were clearly not part of the King’s Highway. They led to a site along the river where caravans could gather without overwhelming the city. Several inns, taverns, and shops made up a small village outside the city. Stretching out from the central village were rows of vendor wagons, carts, and tents, arranged like the spokes of a wheel extending out, where travelers could purchase just about anything they wanted.

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