The Slayarians - Book One by JM Barnes (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📖

wide, pale blue eyes seemed to dart back and forth and he was always nervously wringing his hands. He said he was a mage, recently released from his apprenticeship in northern Celtic Gaul. He had met Shadow not long after and the two decided to form an alliance.
Shadow mostly kept silent, though he did mention he was from southern Phoenicia and he had lost his parents to interfamily wars. His area of expertise was obvious by the manner in which he carried himself. He seemed to cling to whatever shadows were near and always tried his best to remain unnoticed. Even though in Thelebes he stuck out like a duck in a wolf’s den.
“I can take care of myself just fine!” Shadow said with a frown.
Squrrel raised his hand and stopped his companion from going on. “We are not true warriors like yourselves, no, but we are very capable in the field. We could use the both of your swords for an adventure we have planned. The current leaders of Thelebes said they would finance it only if we found more muscle and steel.”
Darkon and the prince exchanged amused glances and shrugged in acceptance of the invitation. “We will help you for now but once we are done we have a journey of our own to complete.” He did see the invite as an opportunity for him to gain some wealth of his own since all he had to trade was his armor and sword, so he didn’t mind the temporary distraction.
After accepting, the two warriors awaited Squirrel just outside the local smithy, Shadow always lurking close by. When Squirrel showed up near midday he promptly handed each of them, including Shadow, a small leather pouch of gold bits.
“We are to spend our gold only here in Thelebes. Whatever we have left after this day I am obligated to give back. We will be rewarded upon our return.” Squirrel said.
“There is hardly anyplace here to spend this much gold!” Darkon exclaimed, holding his pouch out before him.
“That’s the point.” Shadow offered. “They’ll reward us but their reward will come back to them eventually and they essentially gain our services for free.”
Squirrel nodded nervously beside him but the young would be mage missed the sly wink Shadow gave Darkon and Galen. Darkon did not react outwardly to the gesture but inwardly he was already worried. Shadow clearly meant to keep his part of the gold. Already this small alliance was showing a lack of trustworthiness. The thief obviously cared little for Squirrel’s pledge to return the remaining gold.
“There’s still the matter of explaining to us what you have planned, Squirrel.” Galen nearly growled as he still held his pouch away from his body, signifying that he had not yet agreed to anything.
Squirrel took the hint and reached into a long pouch he had sewn to the inside of his robe. From it he withdrew a thick, bark sheaf and held it out for everyone to see.
“I was given this little map by a local merchant. He told me he acquired it from the corpses of bandits who attacked his caravan not far from here.” Squirrel softly voiced.
The map showed precise knife marks that had been shaded by a berry colored dye of some kind. It pictured a round hill that was described as hollow. Only a few roughly hewn chambers seemed to exist but what was remarkable was the sketch of what they assumed was a dragon! Squirrel noted aloud that if there was a dragon within the hollow hill it could not have been a large one.
Hearing this Darkon and Galen exchanged incredulous looks. As far as both of them were concerned there was no such thing as dragons. Legends abounded about the creatures but even in the prince’s well storied memory none had been seen in centuries.
Squirrel noted the exchange and hurried to recover his credibility. “I have never laid eyes upon a dragon but some of the locals claim they have and blame it for the disappearances of their sacred oxen. If we bring back some part of the dragon we will be rewarded substantially.”
Again the skeptical warriors exchanged disbelieving gazes.
Shadow laughed at them and said, “I feel as you do, of course, but we still might find something the locals have mistaken as a dragon. Either way, we get our reward!”
That was enough to convince Galen though Darkon still doubted that the venture would lead anywhere favorable for them.
“We can spend the remaining day purchasing supplies and tomorrow after dawn we can begin the journey east. I have estimated the journey should take only three days by horseback.” Squirrel said.
They had no steeds thus the gold would be used to purchase them. Darkon had agreed finally to the journey but warned Squirrel and most pointedly Shadow that he would not be happy if the two tried to trick he and Galen. The prince accentuated the warning with a smile as he tightly gripped the pommel of his blade.
After that the men split up and began their search for supplies within the town. Darkon entered the smithy and asked the man if a bow crafter was in Thelebes. There was but the smith sold the arrowheads to the bow crafter so he decided to cut some cost and purchase fourteen of them. His skill with a bow was average at best, but Prince Galen's was even worse. Between the two, they both agreed, one of them would have to use a bow in case a situation required it. He’d been elected thus he used most of his gold to purchase a finely crafted bow and arrows, along with all the leather accoutrements that he would need to carry them.
Galen’s duty was more challenging. He searched for a horse owner who would, for some measure of gold, lend the men four healthy steeds. It turned out to be rare enough for someone to even own a single horse let alone four. When he came to the end of the village where the few wealthier folk lived in their more sturdy stone buildings he realized his duty was not likely to be fulfilled. One pleasant surprise did await him though. Her name was lady Mafyeel. He’d been immediately enchanted by the lady’s distinguished beauty, and though she was clearly his elder by a decade or more, years of careful living and attentiveness to her own needs had assured her a lasting attractiveness.
When Galen asked her about her stable she said she would happily lend him four steeds, though her price would not be in gold. Befuddled at the woman’s forwardness he let himself be led inside her spacious home. He’d ever been lucky with women but this was not something he was accustomed to. He was used to being the initiator in dealing with the fairer species thus he was understandably nervous and unable to perform up to his usual standard. Luckily lady Mafyeel took pity on him and lent him the steeds anyway, asking only that when he returned they try again in a more comfortable setting. He assured her he would return, even though in his heart he knew he might never be able to face the lady again. In fact, he couldn’t even look the horses in the face as he led them down the path that ran through Thelebes.
Squirrel fared much better than the prince. The pale mage acquired all the needed horse feed and field rations his frail form could carry. He had estimated the four man party would only need about six days worth of food but he purchased nine in anticipation of any unforeseen difficulty. Along with some cooking tools and thick horse blankets for the riders to sit upon he was a comical sight as he stumbled his way back toward the smithy.
Shadow’s duty was the most subtle and pivotal. Using his talent for insinuative persuasion he went to the people and looked for any information that might aid the party. He walked back and forth from wooden cabin to stone hovel, gathering any tale about the hollow hill or the dragon in particular. Most of what he learned he knew he could discount as myth. Yet the witnesses to the ox disappearances told very believable tales.
One old woman cried as she described how the great dragon had crept up to her and her beloved ox from a wheat field. Shadow looked disbelieving but she swore that neither she nor her sacred beast had seen or heard anything that would warn them of the attack. It was as if the dragon had just appeared. She said the thing was all thrash and roar as it enclosed the ox’s head in its great maw.
Similar stories about the manner of the dragon’s appearance abounded. The attacks did seem to have a sort of pattern. Every month another one occurred at about the same time. It appeared the creature had the capability to consume one ox a month, yet during the past two months there had been double the sightings and attacks. The descriptions had all been close except for the dragon’s size. Some claimed it was as big as a horse and chariot, while others said it was long but only stood as high as a wolf or lion. Whatever it’s true size the creature had to be quite powerful, for the oxen it dragged off were very heavy.
When the two pairs of unlikely new allies regrouped before the smithy they swiftly drew the curious locals’ attention. Rumors of dragon hunters being in the village had spread quickly and anyone who was free from chores turned out to see them off. The only problem was they hadn’t planned on leaving until dawn.
“They seem to think we’re leaving now.” Quietly observed Squirrel.
“I wouldn’t mind leaving at this moment.” Galen commented, mostly under his breath.
Darkon looked at the moping prince in surprise. “You wouldn’t? I thought you wanted to…”
Galen cut him off before he could finish. “Never mind that, if you please!” He said through gritted teeth.
Darkon was perplexed but after a moment he began to recognize signs on his friend’s face that something had happened. Something prince Galen of Genossia was not overly proud of.
“I have not finished everything yet!” Shadow interjected.
“You told us everything we need to know, did you not?” Asked a confused Squirrel.
“Yes, of course, but I was going to suggest we all spend the night in the hall of happiness.” The thief quickly explained, a look of pure innocence upon his face.
Squirrel predictably allowed himself to be influenced. “Oh, uhm…if you really think we should.”
“Of course,” Shadow held his arms out to both sides and added, “We will celebrate as companions our new alliance and thus be like brothers upon the dawn.”
His words made sense but then he winked slyly again to Darkon who took that as a reassurance that the thief was up to no good.
“No. We leave now, as Galen suggested.” Darkon would hear no more argument. They agreed to leave in an hour as the sun closed upon the horizon. Cheers rang out as they rode off into the sunset and a song could be heard being sung by an old man holding a peculiar three-stringed instrument. No one, not even Galen, had ever seen it’s like but the sounds that came from it were soothing to the senses and inspiring to the soul.
“I feel like an idiot.” Squirrel muttered. “How am I ever going to get this right? Every adventuring expedition always leaves at dawn. We could be riding right into the dragon’s belly for all we know!”
Shadow rode beside him but said nothing. The thief had been hoping to unload some of the hall’s patrons