Dream II - Chapter 19 (Patreon)

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Race: Saurian

Bloodline Powers: Improved Strength, Rending, Firebreath
Greater Mysteries: Fire (Noble) 4, Wind (Noble) 2, Sound (Advanced) 1
Lesser Mysteries: Heat 4, Oxygen 4, Embers 4, Pressure 4, Current/Flow 4

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The journey to Kaddrasall had been eerie and eye opening.  Matthus, the merchant sent to handle the trade, was cheerful and talkative, but even his constant chatter couldn’t cover up the fact that the roads were almost empty.

Sure, there were some peasant wagons traveling back and forth between the villages and resource extraction colonies around Vereton for the first day or so, but after that the highway suddenly became a lonely place.  In the entire six day trip, they only saw one other caravan.

It was an impressive display, almost two dozen wagons to Matthus’ single carriage.  Moreover, each wagon had at least one guard riding in it next to the driver.  That wasn’t even counting the four mounted guards, each wearing glittering helms and chainmail, that rode at the center of the column.  They gave no outward signs of ability, but Samazzar was willing to bet his claws that each of them had taken at least one elixir.

Matthus just kept talking, directing their smaller wagon to the side of the road in order to let the larger group pass.  The guards kept a careful eye on them, after all, it wasn’t common to see three saurians kitted for combat in human lands, let alone in uncertain times, but beyond a bit of zealous watchfulness, that was the entirety of their interaction.

The other caravan was content to travel on toward Vereton, wagons heavily laden and creaking.  Silently, Samazzar wished them well.  The city could do with some supplies and good news, and even if the merchants had to double their prices to pay for their heavy guard, expensive goods were still better than shortages and empty shelves.

Almost surprisingly, they made it to Kaddrasall without any major problems.  The minute they crossed the border into the Grand Duchy of Atophel, traffic returned to normal.  The last day or two of their trip, it was common for them to see at least a dozen groups traveling to and from the smaller farming villages and military bases surrounding the commercial hub.

As for Kaddrasall itself?  Their arrival was almost anticlimactic.  Matthus presented a writ, and they were let through the gate after a quick inspection of the expensive luxury goods and reagents they were carrying.  As for the inside of the city, Matthus quickly led them to an exclusive market, located in a large adobe building next to the open air market used by more common folk.

The saurians simply stood around, towering over the various breeds of human that went from shop to shop while Matthus made his sales and purchases.  After spending the night at a clean but not overly luxurious inn, they set out on their return journey to Vereton.

This time, the dropoff in traffic was even more stark.  It was almost like a hush fell over the road the minute their group stepped past the stone marker that outlined the boundary between Atophel and Vereton.  Even the animals were hushed.  Although Samazzar would occasionally hear something small and furry scampering through the undergrowth, that was the extent of it.

They saw no wildlife.  Birds didn’t fly overhead or flit from branch to branch, and the barely heard squirrels and chipmunks never made an appearance.  More than that, the animals didn’t make any real sound.  Other than the occasional rustling, Sam didn’t hear any animal calls or birdsong for most of the trip.

On their second day past the border, they spotted the caravan they had passed on their way to Kaddrasall.  The broken wagons littered the road, some blackened by fire and others still smoldering.  Dead guards and merchants lay everywhere.  The bodies had any number of wounds.  Some were brought low by spear and swords, others sprouted arrows, and still more bore strange scars from needles made of bone and needle, likely the result of a practitioner or two.  Their only commonality was their foul smell, and their heavy bloating from the beating sun.

Takkla halted their group with a raised hand, but after ten or so minutes of inspecting the scene she returned with a shrug.  Dussok and Samazzar moved ahead, pushing broken wagons out of the way to clear a path for Mathus and Takkla.

Unsurprisingly, there weren’t any goods to loot.  Whoever had hit the caravan left only charred wood and torn bodies.  Even the soldiers’ weapons had disappeared by the time the saurians arrived.

There weren’t major signs of combat around the ordinary soldiers, and it was clear from where they lay in the road or slumped against half destroyed wagons that no one bothered with moving the corpses after they were slain.  The heavily armored mounted warriors were different.  Like the draft animals used to pull the carriages, their horses were gone, but the area  by the side of the road where the four made their final stand was practically a wasteland.

Trees were shattered, their splinters cluttering a large area where the grass had been trampled flat.  At least one nearby boulder had been struck hard enough that a crack ran down its entire length.  More importantly, next to the four bodies, there were a couple additional bloodstains, the only real sign that they were able to find that the caravan’s defenders had managed to injure their attackers before being destroyed.

After passing the wreckage of the merchant convoy, the tension was almost impossible to bear.  They alternated shifts so that at least two saurians were awake and on guard at any point in time, and more than once Samazzar found himself jumping at the crack of a twig from their eerily silent surroundings.  Still, the days managed to pass without any major event until Vereton was visible as a dark smear on the horizon.

“I never thought I would be so excited to see drab granite walls,” Matthus said with a chuckle.  “I’d heard how bad things were over ale at the tavern, but actually seeing it was something else.”

“We were lucky to finish the journey without conflict,” Samazzar agreed.  “The three of us are powerful, but I doubt that we could overwhelm all of the guards from the caravan.  If the force that attacked them turned its attention to us, I suspect that our only chance would have been to break encirclement and run for our lives.”

Dussok grunted, shifting his weapon from one shoulder to another before he replied.  “I’m not sure that would be enough, little dragon.  Only the most powerful human warriors even had a chance to put up a fight.  If we were truly attacked in earnest, I doubt there would have been much we could do but extract a price from them with our deaths.”

“So melodramatic,” Sam said, winking at Dussok as he slapped the other saurian on the shoulder.  “I told you.  So long as you approach the world with the mindset of a dragon, it will make way for you.  Here we are and everything has worked out.”

“Maybe we just didn’t look like we were worth raiding?” Matthus asked soothingly.  “Three guards for one wagon is a steep ratio, and the wagon isn’t even piled that high with goods.  If the bandits just managed a big score, it would make sense that they would prefer to spend their time drinking and carousing rather than picking another tough fight for so little gain.”

“No,” Takkla spoke up, shaking her head.  “I saw at least three camouflaged scout posts alongside the road.”

Matthus yelped, practically jumping as his head whipped around, warily eyeing the tall grass and stands of trees by the side of the pathway.

“Are you sure?”  He hissed, eyes wide.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  We could be knee deep in hidden bandits and not even know it.”

Takkla’s eyes twinkled, as she snorted at the agitated human.

“I’d know if they were nearby,” she replied.  “Maybe one human could evade my sight, but the dozen or so needed to credibly fight the three of us?  That will stick out like the nose on a human’s face.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Matthus said, his voice hushed but animated.  “They could be hiding underground in holes.  You can’t see into the ground now, can you?”

Takkla’s chuckled, but the human began speaking urgently, cutting her off before she could say anything.

“Don’t laugh!  I heard a bard tell a story about a group of bandits, the Broken Spear Band, that used that to catch travelers.  Apparently they would set up a roadblock to slow people down and dig pits around it and hide in them until a merchant caravan would stop to clear the blockage.  Then they would jump out and kill everyone.  Very scary.  Very tragic.”

“The outposts were empty,” Takkla responded, shaking her head.  “Moreover, they all had fire circles that hadn’t been used in the last three days.  Someone was there fairly recently, but they aren’t there now.”

“But how do you know?”  Matthus asked nervously, looking from Takkla to Sam with wide eyes.  “No one bothered to look through the camps or inspect the ashes.  Isn’t it possible that we made it past a couple layers of scouts only for there to be a final trap lying in wait ahead?”

“It’s magic,” Samazzar cut in.  “All of us can tell how long it’s been since a campfire or hearth has been lit.  Plus, both Dussok and I would be able to see buried holes full of bandits.  Right now, there’s no one there.  I would know.”

Matthus stared at him for a couple of seconds, clearly trying to figure out if Sam was pulling his leg.  Finally, the skittish human relaxed, slumping into the wooden seat of his wagon before he froze once again.

“Wait,” Matthus hissed.  “If you saw the scout posts were empty on the way back, does that mean you spotted them on our trip out to Kaddrasall?

“Of course,” Takkla answered freely.  “And each of them had about two people standing watch.  None of them seemed overly interested in us when we passed by.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew the larger caravan was coming and were holding position to watch for it.”

“Oh,” Matthus said, paling.  “Oh.  Maybe I won’t be making another trip out of Vereton anytime soon.  This is all a bit too exciting for me.”

Samazzar bit his tongue, eyes snapping up to the road as a trio of silhouettes appeared in his magical senses.  All three of them were riding horses, and although he struggled to make out specific details from their appearances, his sound magic could hear the clink of metal on metal.

Whoever they were, they were armed and armored like a war party despite their small numbers.  Sam held up a single hand, palm open.  He shared a meaningful glance with Takkla and she nodded before disappearing into the waist high tall grass on the side of the road.

Dussok pulled his axe off his shoulder, taking a step to the left so that there would be adequate room between him and Samazzar if something were to happen.  The three of them made time to practice combat maneuvers together at least once a week, and they knew from hard won experience that Sam’s fire magic tended not to discriminate between friend and foe.  While it was true that both Dussok and Takkla could heat and damage from his attacks, that would only weaken his ability to deal with opponents.

“What the-” Matthus began only to cut himself off as the clatter of hooves on stone echoed down the road.  Samazzar gave him a tight smile before stepping in front of the wagon, grabbing the horse’s reins and guiding the animal off the highway so that those approaching could pass.

No such luck.  The riders rounded the corner, each of them wearing the characteristic steel plate of Vereton knights.  Their leader pressed his heels into his horse’s side, slowing the animal as soon as he saw their wagon.

A quick hand sign spread the male and female soldiers flanking him out into a loose formation where one quick attack couldn’t hit all of them at once.  He smiled tightly, nodding to Samazzar as he spurred his horse forward at a slow walk.

Sam nodded back, keeping his left hand on the horse’s reins while the other was loose and open at his hip.  The knights hadn’t taken any explicitly aggressive actions yet, but their eyes were hard as they looked over the two visible saurians and their human companion.

“Hello travelers, care to state where you’re coming from and where you’re heading?”  The knight’s words were a polite question, but the friendliness didn’t touch his voice or eyes.

Behind Samazzar Matthus coughed.  He stepped to the side to let the much shorter man through.  The knight glanced from the two muscle-bound saurians to the smaller grinning human and raised a single eyebrow.

“Greetings sir knight!” Matthus exclaimed cheerfully, walking past his scaled protectors as he reached into the folds of his robe for some object.  “My name is Matthus Andrevsen and I am a merchant second class in service of the Patrician.  I am returning from a trip to Kaddrasall, and if you will give me a couple of seconds I can present you with my writ and accompanying paperwork.”

The rasp of metal on wood stopped the exuberant merchant as all three of the knights half drew their sword.  Dussok’s axe slipped off of his shoulder, slapping heavily into a scaled palm even as Sam exhaled a whisper of fire that began to curl and dance around his open palm.

Matthus froze, halfway between both groups, trembling like a leaf on a windy day.  Samazzar could practically see the sweat pouring down the man’s face as he looked beseechingly back at his escort.

The knights’ half drawn swords glimmered in the afternoon light.  There was something off about the blades. They rang like bells as they were being drawn and even now, the wind passing over them reacted strangely, as if somehow the swords could cut the air itself.  Sam couldn’t tell which mystery the three warriors were using, but it was clear that some magic was at work.

“That’s far enough merchant,” the speaker growled, his eyes hard as he stared at the fire wrapping itself around Samazzar’s wrist.  “It seems that your friends have a bit of talent.  In fact, you seem fairly well prepared for a random traveler going on a simple jaunt between cities.”

“Random traveler!?”  Matthus screeched, his affable nature finally wounded.  “I am a merchant second class.  I have a writ from the sub-council on intercity commerce that allows me to trade in high value goods and take on requests from the government of Vereton itself.”

“In fact,” the smaller man huffed angrily.  “I am on my way back from such a mission right now.  Of course I’m well prepared.  The sub-council assigned a team of Academy students to defend me.  Given the value of the treasures I was bringing to trade and the outright deplorable state of roads, they were hardly going to send me with ordinary soldiers.  I wouldn’t make it out of sight of the city before I was murdered and my corpse picked clean, all while you lot spend my taxes on elixirs and wine from the comfort of your barracks.”

The knight blinked at him for a second, as if surprised that the inoffensive human had bared his fangs at him.  Then, without saying a word, he drew his sword entirely free, placing the flat of his blade on the back of his saddle so that the weapon was parallel to the road.  His face reddened as he stared silently down at Matthus, but the merchant refused to budge an inch backward.

Sighing, Samazzar prepared himself.  He stepped away from the horse so as not to spook it and split the ribbon of fire circling his hand into two, transferring the flame to his other hand as well.

“I am a knight in the service of Vereton,” the lead rider hissed, barely able to spit the words out through gritted teeth, “and even if you will address me with respect.”

Matthus crossed his arms, glaring up at the mounted man without any fear.

“Fine,” he replied.  “I respect your ability to arrive on the scene almost a full day after a caravan from Kaddrasall was looted and destroyed.  Now can you explain why you’re blocking our path?  I am on official business for the city you know, at the very least I’m owed an explanation.”

The knight growled, unable to force a word out through a feral snarl as he stared Matthus down.  Unperturbed, the merchant pulled a metal plate approximately the size of his hand from his robe and held it up.  A crystal in its center glowed faintly gold, reminding Samazzar of the enchanted lights contained in the more valuable parros.

“Pete,” the female knight called out, shaking her head.  “If they’re legit, picking a fight will be trouble.  Isn’t it enough that they’re heading to Vereton?  We can escort them back and let the Captain handle everything.”

He nodded curtly, yanking sideways on his reins hard enough to jerk his horse’s head.  It wheeled about and its hooves clattered against the stones of the highway as the knight let the animal lead him away.

The woman gave them a thin smile that didn’t even begin to touch her eyes.  Some of Matthus’ bluster withered under her glare, and he quietly tucked the writ back into the inner pocket of his robes.

“I suppose we’re your escort back to the City then,” she said, her voice emotionless.  “Due to recent developments, we’re being forced to question everyone spotted in the vicinity of Vereton.  So long as you come back with us, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Samazzar glanced at Dussok, cocking his head to the side as if asking a question.  The knight’s statement had been pleasant, but he couldn’t help but notice the steel hidden beneath her statement and the fact that she hadn’t bothered to apologize for her companion.  She was trying to diffuse tension and avoid a fight, but it didn’t seem like she was backing down from his aggressive and confrontational stance.

Dussok nodded, and Sam turned to Matthus who shot him a simultaneous wink and thumbs up.  Without looking away from the human, he stilled the thread of flame dancing around his hands and motioned toward the tall grass.

“That sounds agreeable,” he said, speaking for the first time in the encounter as he nodded his head a fraction of a degree toward the knight.  “We will welcome you guiding us back to Vereton.  After all, six guards is better than three given the uncertainties of the road.”

Both of the remaining knights stiffened as Takkla stood up.  Samazzar smiled, showing rows of sharp teeth.  It was clear that the soldiers thought themselves predators and the saurians prey.  It was good to… disabuse them of that misconception.

Sam and his siblings had fought more threatening monsters than the three humans as kobolds fresh out of the shell.  He had no desire to test whatever magic the knights were using on their swords, but if a fight broke out, he wasn’t worried.  After all, how could three mere humans be more dangerous than an elder salamander, let alone a flame wyrm?

The knights shared a nonplussed look before flicking their reins and turning their horses as well.  As soon as their backs were to the rest of the party, Matthus let out a giant sigh of relief before reaching up and theatrically wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Matthus jogged past him before jumping up onto the seat of the wagon.  Sam fought back the urge to make some sort of remark as he handed the human his horse’s reins.  The merchant shot him a quick nervous smile before snapping them and setting their small group in motion once again.

The remaining half day to the city walls passed in silence with two of the knights riding behind the wagon, and another riding at the front of their column.  As they finally approached the city, Samazzar’s eyes narrowed.

Smoke was rising from the nearest gate, not a huge amount but significantly more than the ‘zero’ that he had expected.  A couple dozen armored soldiers with spears ringed the entrance, but he barely even noticed them.

Instead, Sam’s vision was focused on the metal portcullis itself.  There was a hole in it, half again as tall as a man and twice as wide.  The thick metal was bowed outward, like it had been forced until it broke by an explosion from inside the city.  Even the walls around it showed damage with the stones themselves being chipped and marked from some sort of attack.

“What in the name of-” Matthus began, eyes widening, only to catch himself.  His head whipped to the side as he looked beseechingly to the female knight.  “Is this why you’re on edge?  What happened?”

“There was a surprise attack,” she replied grimly.  “Forces inside Vereton assaulted the Academy, and when they retreated to the gate, allies on the outside attacked at the same time, distracting the guards long enough that the magic users that led the assault were able to break free.  There was almost certainly an informant.  The timing and planning was too precise for anything else.”

“What do you mean by that?”  Sam asked.  “It sure looks like the attackers just overwhelmed the defenses with brute force in order to escape.”

“The answer to your question lies with Captain Jamise,” the knight responded, an almost pitying tone to her voice.  “He doesn’t want us to give you too much information.  He’s afraid that it will taint the answers to your questions when he interrogates the four of you.”

Samazzar looked up, heart sinking, to see a familiar metal-clad form approaching atop a magnificent warhorse.