Chronicles of Den'dra - Spencer Johnson Page 0,123

and knew that no such labor had been wasted inside that luxurious compartment. The sun faded curtains were double sided with golden velvet on the inside that matched the cushioned walls. If a lurch managed to get past the spring steel that attached the frame to the riding compartment, then one might be bounced against the soft walls a little. It allowed the carriage to move at higher speeds than would normally be thought safe for the passengers. The two rows of facing seats were reminiscent of the drowsy comforts that one might find by a fire in a castle. If the road was not too rough, one might drift off to sleep if not otherwise occupied. A compartment under the baggage permitted access to a tent along with all the accessories that permitted a peaceful night slumber with nearly all the comforts available in any inn found along the road. All the extra weight required an additional set of horses to pull it and betraying the fact that it wasn’t as ordinary as it looked. Alban felt a twinge of envy knowing that to maintain his role, he would not be partaking of any luxuries himself on this trip. He would instead be bedding down with the soldiers as nothing more than a commoner rather than the leader of the most powerful organization in Den’dra. It was a role he had played many times before. He had even played as a gardener around the castle in Shienhin. It had been the groundwork for today’s meeting with Reigns. Groundwork that, though tedious, had been rewarding.

Evening fell with nearly half the distance to Firgrest covered. Reigns’ tent was erected and he went inside to be seen no more for the night. With nothing else to do, Alban and Roark proceeded to unharness their horses and set them to grazing with the soldier’s mounts, then going about eating some of the supplies that they had brought with them before laying out their bedrolls and going to sleep. Morning was well upon them before Reigns appeared briefly, then entering his carriage with a meal that had been roasting since daylight. The procession began the next leg of the journey the same way that is had that previous day as soon as the tent had been dismantled and packed up.

With all the security, there were no confrontations as they wound their way into the forests that extended beyond the flanks of the Vaulwar Mountains well into the midlands. It was a logical place to have a personal castle if one was the ruling monarch. It had once been Illiad’s hunting estate, but Reigns had repurposed it. The rumors spoke of a large dungeon under the castle. During Illiad’s reign, it had been abandoned and nearly forgotten. Reigns had begun filling it. The stories that were whispered through the land was that the Gifted that were not killed were brought here or to another similar castle in Cercha. The locals in Cercha saw the black carriages roll through frequently. They looked like ordinary carriages, except the windows were boarded over and the doors were oddly built into the back. No one knew what fate awaited the unwilling passengers, but horror stories were told that caused even the burliest of men to shudder.

With the castle coming into sight, Alban could see why Illiad had spent so much time here. It had an air of quiet repose about it that caused one to relax. The fir trees that gave the castle its name blocked out the horizon. One could climb to a tower, but even then, they would only be able to see forests in all directions. To the west the majestic Vaulwar Mountains appeared to claw their way out of the land in the distance. A distance that meant that the dragons wouldn’t be wandering this far. The north was nothing but miles of verdant forest until it broke on the cliffs over the silent sea. To the east one might see the vestiges of the midlands, but the intervening forests gave one a feeling of detachment. To the south, on a good day, one could see the edges of the tumbled green sea although distance obscured anything further on.

The vast green forest was rife with wild game. Few lived in the woods beyond the couple wood cutting communities and the bandits that sought refuge in the trackless wilderness. There were far fewer now than when the robber baron had reigned over Firgrest in the time