RHIDAUNA, The Shadow of the Revenaunt, Book 1

CHAPTER 15 - NADRIL

Dunan Nain, the Hammer of Malend, Commandant of Nadril, was standing, staring at the large, gilded looking glass when his clerk entered the office. 'You're late, Regeleon,' he said. 'Slow as ever. The enemy might have burned the whole town in the time you need to answer my summons.'

The clerk's old bones creaked as he bowed. 'Yes, lord, as you say. I came as fast as I could. I'm sorry, lord.'

'Never mind. What can you tell me about our unexpected visitors?'

Regeleon wrung his hands. 'Well, they are six, lord. Five boys and two girls.'

'Is that all?' Lord Dunan growled his impatience. 'Five boys and two girls? Bravo! Come here, fool.'

Obediently, the old clerk went to stand beside his master, and peered at the mirror. Instead of his own dusty image, he saw six young people riding through a busy market district.

'See them?' The commandant sounded disgusted. 'Two girls? No, you brainless heap of bones, the one is a magia of some temple order, the other is a female knight, a foreigner. And those boys are men, almost. One of them seems still a child, but his aura proclaims him a paladin, touched by his god. The others are a firemage, a beastmaster and two warriors. They're not a collection of stray youngsters; they're a small army! And that's not all. Take the first boy, the blond one. Do you notice anything about him?'

The clerk stared at the images in the mirror. 'My eyes are not what they used to be, lord. It is difficult to see.'

Dunan Nain snorted. 'Nothing about you is what it was. Look at the sword he carries.'

'Well...' the clerk hesitated. 'It's pretty big. Ah, it looks as if it emits light, but that could be the sun's reflection.'

'It's not the sun. The light comes from the sword itself. What does a shining sword make you think of?'

Old Regeleon stood still and tried to remember. 'A warrior,' said he hesitantly. 'A... a royal presence, with a... a crown and a gold-lined cloak. Zeleon!' Regeleon twitched with sudden excitement, old limbs creaking. 'The sword. King Zeleon's sword! Lord! The Stone?'

The commandant slammed his armored fist against the wall. 'It can't be anything else. Should Zeleon's sword return to Nadril, it could mean the end!' He was striding back and forth now. 'Bring them here, all six. Now! Move that old carcass of yours, hurry!'

'Yes, lord, right away!' Bowing again, the old clerk left the room to ready himself for the world.

Ghyll halted in the middle of the busy street. He looked at the stalls on both sides, where vendors offered their wares with unintelligible cries. At first, he had taken it all for granted, but after a while, a sense of strangeness crept over him. It was an outlandish place, this Nadril – as if they had gone back in time, to a barbaric age. Most of the men and women around them looked like fighters. They were all armed. Even the children carried long knives on their belt. The people were mostly large and muscular, faces and arms painted in bizarre patterns. All went dressed in leather armor, and without exception, they wore a striped blanket over the shoulder to the knee, held around the waist by their belt.

'Funny, all those blankets. Would they sleep in them too?' Damion was echoing his thoughts and Ghyll grinned at the beastmaster.

'Yes, they do,' Bo said. 'A classmate of mine comes from Malend, and he wears one like those. M'dairs they're called, and predictably every family has their own colors.' He looked, and sounded, disdainful. 'A quaint custom.'

'So this is Nadril,' Ghyll said. 'It doesn't look much like a modern town.'

'I haven't seen a temple or a godlight yet,' Bo said.