The Four-Part Key (The Aldoran Chronicles: Book 3) by Michael Wisehart

Author:Michael Wisehart [Wisehart, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Easthaven Publishing
Published: 2021-10-05T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 46 | Ayrion

WHAT HAD LOOKED LIKE nothing more than walls of rock and stone at first glance was an entire community, where the dwellings had been built right into the mountainside itself. Each crook and cranny and crevice had a door or window sticking from it. There were footpaths that had been carved into the rock, leading all along the cragged surface as they wound their way up the mountainside from one dwelling to the next. There were other dwellings even farther up, but Ayrion didn’t have time to stand and gawk, not while surrounded by some of the most fearsome-looking people he’d ever met.

“We mean you no harm,” Tameel said, arms raised to show he carried no weapons.

“What brings you to our sacred ground?” a man said as he walked across the plateau in their direction, flanked on both sides by a personal guard. He carried a double-sided broadaxe, letting it swing from his hand as he approached. Like many others, he wore what appeared to be a bear hide for his cloak, except his bear still had its head attached, which sat atop the man like a hat, giving him the impression of being half beast. Red hair draped his shoulders, blending in with a full beard that hung halfway down his chest. The hair on his face was thick enough to braid, which was exactly what he’d done, one on either side of his cheeks. His dark-brown eyes were sharp and cunning as they scanned the wagon.

“We have come to trade,” Tameel said, climbing down from his seat and walking over to greet the man, who was every bit as wide in the chest as Bek, but about fifteen to twenty years his senior, which showed in the streaks of grey that mixed with the red. “May the Great Father bless you with long life and grandchildren to sit on your knees.”

The big man and his entourage stopped a few paces away, and he pointed his axe in Tameel’s direction. “I see the Great Father has kept that slick tongue of yours as sharp as ever.” He handed his axe to one of the men beside him and walked over and grabbed Tameel in a huge embrace, nearly picking him up off the ground. When he finally lowered Tameel back to his feet, he turned to the wagon. “Where’s that enchanting beauty of yours? Hiding herself away to keep from succumbing to my charms, I take it?”

“The day I succumb to your charms will be the day they throw dirt on my face,” Zynora said, stepping out from around the back of the wagon.

The man laughed and gave his long beard a good tug. “You haven’t aged a day.”

Zynora walked over and stood beside Tameel. “And you, Ozlin Beartooth, look and smell as vile as ever.”

The man laughed again, and so did those holding Ayrion at spearpoint.

Ozlin hugged Zynora as well, lingering long enough to force her to push him away. “So, who is this?” the bear-clad man asked, pointing at Ayrion.

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