Chapter 12

The journey, though not arduous, was tiring as Darras himself had not slept that night. Still he and Syriel made good time, even as before they were constantly observed by the various creatures within the forest.

“They merely wish to view the Human who rescued the followers of our goddess,” Syriel explained.

“I take it they generally have a dim view of humanity?” Darras queried.

“Yes, your people here are driven by greed.”

“I doubt it’s the ones cutting wood, more likely their employers.”

“It is still something we will not permit.”

“And yet still they try.”

“Indeed so, sir Darras.”

It was late afternoon when Darras finally emerged from the forest, bidding Syriel a cheery farewell as he headed for the road into the capital. Unobserved, he joined the tail end of a line of carts as they rumbled through the gates having paid their toll and was missed by the gate guard who assumed he was part of the merchant column. From there he made his way to the gateway complex and stood in line, waiting for the officials to check his basically unused paperwork.

“You appear to have avoided the main roads,” a pinch-faced clerk observed.

“I prefer my profits to remain mine,” Darras chuckled.

“No town or village stamps either.”

“Enter before dawn and no guards to check, leave after dusk and it’s the same.”

“How very enterprising of you,” the man grated out. “How was business?”

“Good enough to justify a potential return trip,” Darras lied.

“I see. The charge will be one silver,” the man informed him, grossly overcharging.

“Though at these prices, perhaps not,” Darras sighed, handing over the coin.

“Off you go, merchant,” the man simply pointed to the gateway room entrance after stamping his paper.

Darras showed the paper to the guard at the doorway, and again to the clerk inside then stepped up to the glowing ring and thought ‘Erren’ before stepping through and into her domain.

“Welcome back, my Darras,” she greeted him with a happy smile.

“Good to be back,” he smiled as he received a hug.

“Pooh, you smell,” she giggled. “Go bathe and I’ll fetch a beer for you.”

“I could get used to this,” Darras chuckled as she skipped off to her kitchen store.

Darras swiftly disrobed and stepped down into the hot water, letting it ease the aches he felt from his long journey and lack of sleep. He was not surprised when Erren joined him, nor averted his eyes from her body as she slipped out of her clothing as well. As ever, the couple simply washed each other before relaxing, Darras with a tankard of ale, Erren with a glass goblet of wine.

“You did well, my Darras,” she informed him, her head lying against his shoulder.

“Thank you, Erren,” he replied. “The shadow was no real issue, nor the prisoners.”

“Yes. The priest of Darmela was most put out that his ... hostages were missing. He initially thought it to have been done by magic.”

“Well, I’m glad. Though those people will not be welcome anywhere in that Kingdom now,” he pointed out.

“That’s true. However, Doriel’s people are aiding them to build a village in the forest. It will form the nucleus of the growing resistance to Darmela’s followers excesses,” Erren informed him. “The humiliation of the priest and his guards was noted by the villagers too and the tale spreads, further undermining Darmela’s priesthood.”

“I take it there may be other incidents?”

“Doriel is looking for a leader type like you to cause incidents like this. I expect she’ll manage, she usually does.”

“Where next?”

“You’re off to meet some Dwarves. A shadow has gained influence with one of their kings.”

“I suspect I’ll stand out a bit,” Darras chuckled.

“You will, though they are used to Humans buying their products.”

“Getting near their king though...”

“Yes, could be an issue, but I have faith in you, my Darras.”

“One way or another, I’ll manage ... my Erren.”

Erren would not be drawn further on the who or where of Darras’s target but simply bade him to relax and rejuvenate for a couple of days while she got to fuss over him and enjoy his company. The evenings ... though Darras had a suspicion a day was exactly as long as Erren wanted it to be, were spent chatting over the world he was now involved with, its countries and its gods. Of particular interest to Darras were the various races inhabiting it and how to avoid, or counter those who would be hostile to him or his intent.

Generally, Humans, Elves and Dwarves would not be hostile to his presence, other than a few outliers like the priest-King Sallason. Lizardmen could be an issue depending on whether they were insular or traded with the world around them, the insular ones tending to kill any race they found trespassing. Orcs, however, would be an issue unless Darras was with an escorted party of traders. They would simply attack any lone traveller they saw, of any race, including their own if not of their tribe. The other minor races were dangerous to an extent, though so far seemed to be of little interest to the shadows. The exception to this was the Dark Kingdom of Ventris in which, he was informed, most of the inhabitants would see him as prey, though the woods and forests were now a sanctuary of sorts, if not particularly safe as such as Wendigos, a malevolent type of Treant, inhabited them, if living in harmony with the rest of the woodlands.

“I can see getting at shadows in certain Kingdoms is going to be a major issue,” Darras sighed, sitting next to Erren after a superb meal.

“This is why I’m making agreements with certain gods and goddesses,” Erren explained. “Once done you’ll have allies available to aid and assist you.”

“You don’t have control over them?”

“I’m more ... powerful in a sense, but I’m not a General. My suggestions carry weight, but they can reject or ignore them,” she chuckled. “Some favour my brother as Darmela does because he’s indifferent as to how her people treat others, others such as Lanfross are utterly uninterested as to the goings on of any but their followers.”

“You sound a lot more like people than gods,” Darras replied with a wry smile.

“Actually, you’re a lot more like us,” she giggled. “We did create you, in a sense.”

“Really?” Darras chuckled. “Is there like a head god above you?”

“The Allfather,” Erren replied. “But he ignores us unless we move against him.”

“Could you? Not that I’m suggesting you should.”

“Personally, no. I know the extent of my power. My brother, however, I’m not so sure about.”

“And if he had a world, controlled behind the scenes by shadows?”

“I doubt he’d be that stupid as to try ... at least not directly anyway.”

“So, more likely making him head god above you and then possibly influencing other worlds and gods?”

“I’m looking into it, but so far these shadows are not acting in any one accord,” Erren replied seriously. “You have, however, finally attracted my brother’s attention by what happened in Lucil.”

“Concerned about the shadow, not his acolyte?”

“Yes, it must have been special somehow.”

“It was quite strong, but apart from that was just a shadow,” Darras shrugged.

“Wish we could capture one, or at least interrogate one,” Erren sighed.

“I’d need an accomplice. If I touch them, they die ... eventually.”

“I know, and my priests or acolytes are not well suited to that sort of task as they cannot even see a shadow.”

“Could a magic user freeze one in place along with the body it possesses?”

“Still got the issue of them not being able to see it ... or such a spell being capable of that,” she nodded slowly. “There’s also the issue of magic users being somewhat mercenary in nature.”

“It’s why the Republic never used mercenaries in the front lines, they’d melt away at too many casualties or when the money ran out.”

“Yes, the loyalty of someone who is paid to do a dangerous job can always be cancelled out by a higher offer.”

“I’ll let you work on it, as I can’t imagine any civilised Kingdom letting me tote a frozen body through a gateway,” Darras chuckled.

“There might be a way...” Erren replied with a slight smile.

“Really?”

“A bounty hunter can and does. I’ll still have to figure out how to involve a magic user though, so leave it to me.”

The following morning, Erren went over what she wanted from Darras’s visit to the Dwarven Kingdom of Burral.

“Do not make the mistake of thinking of them in Human terms,” she warned. “They are a proud race and have their own mores and customs and will be offended if you step outside them.”

“Step outside how?” Darras asked, puzzled.

“Shouting, over-familiarity, assigning gender, trespass, entering the presence of a senior without showing respect, are just a few.”

“Shouting?”

“Bad news in certain areas underground.”

“Oh, right.”

“The city of Burralsteig is built into a mountain and is the main trading centre for the Kingdom. It’s like a lot of Dwarven cities, remote and still mined, though the city’s main export is the production of armour ... very, very good armour at that.”

“Hmm, wonder if my friend, the Captain would be interested?” Darras mused.

“I doubt he’s got the time for a fitting,” Erren smiled. “Nor the funds as yet.”

“Was thinking it might be a fine wedding gift, along with something for Rienne, naturally.”

“His first name is Jertin,” Erren chuckled. “And I’ll give you his measurements as well as coming up with something for Rienne.”

“Will act as a cover for my presence, too.”

“That’s true,” she nodded. “Nearest gateway is in the neighbouring Kingdom of Jizzard, an Elven Kingdom. The two countries don’t really get on, but aren’t at war and won’t hinder you crossing the border, either way.”

“How great a distance?”

“A week, I suggest hiring a mule to carry you and your pack as the journey from the border is steep and exhausting as the air gets thin at the altitude you’ll be climbing to.”

“The Elves hire them?”

“Yes, the Dwarves look after them quite well when you do visit.”