Darkspur

Chapter 25 - Proof

"That thing is stinking," Nadred said, as he and Arkus made their way up the winding, stepped road from Darkspur harbour.

"Yes, it's pretty rotten, I have to say. It won't be the most palatable gift Caden has ever received," Arkus said.

They had arrived just before nightfall and hurried up the hill, hoping to get to the castle before darkness fell on the city. Arkus had the amputated Demon wing rolled in a heavy rug slung over his shoulder, the gristly, chopped off stump sticking out at one end; he got more than a few inquiring stares.

"Think it will be enough to convince him Iazhor has more than a few followers?" Nadred asked.

"After what we went through, I sincerely hope so," Arkus said. "But, if he wants more proof he can get it himself."

After they had defeated the Demon, the temple Priests wisely kept themselves hidden as Arkus struggled his way back to the ship with both his exhausted friend and a charred, leathery wing. He had expected some resistance but after witnessing their pet Demon slain, the priests were not about to stand in the way of the man responsible. They hadn't come straight to Darkspur, making a stop at a small port along the way, chasing another dead end lead and he was now starting to regret the detour as the foul odour of the rotting wing again caught the back of his throat.

"Did you catch how few ships there are in the harbour?" Nadred commented, as they walked. "Seems a bit strange that."

"Yes, it was noticeably quiet. No doubt we will find out why when we reach, Caden."

As they rounded one of the tight bends two elves strode past, deep in conversation. The two friends stopped, somewhat surprised by the sight.

"Elves? Since when do elves come to Darkspur?" Nadred blurted. "Wonder what's frightened them out of their esteemed forest."

"Maybe their sight seeing, who knows. Lets get a move on, this thing is starting to make me feel sick," Arkus said, shifting the carpet to the other shoulder.

The gate into the Keep was closed with two guards standing eyeing the pair with suspicion as they wandered up.

"Halt there please," the larger of the two said. "A bit late for carpet salesmen, is it not?"

"We are here to see the King, it is a matter of much importance," Nadred said, putting on his best authoritative voice. The problem was, he still looked like a less than prosperous merchant and one that you would think twice about buying anything from.

"I will need your names and..." the guard stopped, screwing up his face. "What is the awful smell?"

"A sliced off Demon's wing," Nadred casually said.

The guard looked at him, shaking his head.

Nadred sighed. "A wing, that was chopped, from the back, of...a...Demon," he said slowly, giving the guard a little smile.

"Just tell him, Arkus and, Nadred, are here," Arkus cut in.

Even if Arkus wasn't well known in Darkspur, which was just how he liked it, Nadred's name could still get things done.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry," he turned, shouting to a sentry above the gate. "Send for the captain, we have visitors for the King."

-o-

Keria stood on Darkspur's main battlements looking out over the Duraeden Plain. Smoke rose from the chimneys of the smattering of farmsteads dotted over the landscape, giving the land a peaceful calm in the still, early evening air. It was all in stark contrast to the turmoil Keria felt churning inside. If not occupied with some battle preparation, Keria would be found standing here, scanning the horizon for some news of the imminent arrival of the enemy or for any scrap of information of her beloved Milly. She felt useless, stuck in the castle when she should be out searching for her daughter, trying to bring her home. Deep down, though, she knew that any search would be a futile waste of time. It was not knowing anything that frustrated her. So she spent every possible moment watching for her Outriders return, longing for some news, any news, that could in some way sooth her fractured mind. It was all she could do.