Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,56
sacrificing the innocent to their dark gods, and setting claws on the front steps of Cardoon.
The women and children of the painted people looked upon them with worn faces and fear in their eyes. The men of Glenghora were all in Cardoon, ready to fight alongside the Northerners, the ministers of Gwythroth, and the soldiers of Cardoon.
A sand storm stirred on the horizon and rushed through the group, lashing at their faces, hurling dust and pain over them. Faces were bruised, mouths filled with sand, and eyes were barely shielded against a gritty assault.
Finally the storm passed and let out a howl before vanishing behind them.
“The land here is unlike any in Athora,” Pim said, riding past a cluster of tents, where women nursed their babies, out of the sun.
“Try living here,” Drith said. “You see the harsh life of my people, the barren land which offers little comfort or sustenance to our children. Yes, there’s an oasis here, or there. One well to quench thousands.”
“Your people chose this land,” Pim said.
“We did not choose this! We were cast out hundreds of years ago. Hundreds of years of suffering, of death, while those of Bhrungach kept all of the Lake Lands for themselves.”
“Did you ever ask them to share it?” Tolan turned to Drith. Before he could answer, Tolan cut him off. “No, as history tells us, your people did not want to share it. They wanted it all. They drew blade on the people of the Lake Lands, first. You begrudge them because they beat you in a war that ended before any of us were even born.”
“You do not understand everything. There was no proof as to who was there first. Why should we have had to leave?”
“There is no one left alive that can answer. You Southerners and Northerners have been fueding for hundreds of years. Cardoon is neutral in your disagreement. You will not drag any of us in, now.”
“No one asked you in.” Drith growled, and clicked his horse, galloping ahead of everyone and leading the group through the dry lands.
Silence ruled them on the rest of their days in the desert. Finally out of the sands, they made their way up the coast through one fishing village after another. The air was laced with salt, and the breeze was pleasant and cooling, a welcomed change.
Pim looked out over the water, watching the vast waves ripple for miles until he could see no more. In the far distance against the milky blue, he saw two sails: ships. He’d never seen ships before, and he wondered what it was like to be on one. He had a feeling he would soon find out.
Along the beaches of the Silver Coast, he saw canoes and fishing nets, and pieces of driftwood covered in glistening silver seaweed. Pim understood now how the coast had gotten its name.
Spotted white birds hovered lazily over the water, searching for food. They seemed to watch the waves with eternal patience.
Every small village had smoldering fires with the scent of charred wood and smoked fish hanging thickly in the air. People stood and stared as the strangers rode by.
At the edge of some craggy seacliffs, Pim looked over to see their next destination. It loomed in the distance; massive canopies covering a slope of homes on stilts and decks, the tallest flags and standards anyone had ever seen went spiraling to the clouds. A network of docks and boardwalks all traced a path to the sea and the majestic ships that entered the bay with their billowing white sails. It was Fionngall, the largest port city in the west.
Chapter Thirteen
The Neshing mages gathered together and lumbered toward the barrier around Cardoon. They rattled the bones around their necks, clicked their claws, and snarled in their guttural language.
Drums picked up behind them, pounding louder and louder.
A green aura surrounded the mages. They raised claws and staffs in union, and pointed to Sooth-Malesh’s barrier.
A hail of green-yellow fireballs shot at the barrier with the force of a volcano. The wave of magical fire finally tore through the protective wall, penetrating it at last.
An explosion rocked the land, shaking the city to its very foundations. The entire barrier collapsed and vanished in spark of light.
A static charge brushed through the air.
Sooth-Malesh rushed to the top of the rampart and watched as the Neshing armies advanced on the city. Farms burned and fell, and houses were destroyed in the path of the monstrous scourge.
The reptilian riders led the