Fugitive's Flight (Dragon Castaway Book 2)

Chapter 9

"I see" the man said with a quiet sigh as an acolyte garbed in ordinary peasant's clothes updated him with the latest information in rushed, even frantic tone. "So Krynna and Menk were not equal to the task I set for them. It is no great loss seeing as they didn't seem to want to follow my live capture instructions. However, I like these young folks even more than I did before. Keep me informed of their movements as far as you are able."

Motioning the acolyte to leave he watched in amusement as the new recruit scrambled for the door as fast as he could go all the while rambling the words "yes master Verangian!"

While he had come to appreciate the power to make those beneath him squirm, his expression growing rather more serious as he looked about the quarters that he had commandeered from the sanctuary's normal master. It was a situation that he had felt guilty about, but no one would deny Ur's messenger the best that they could offer, which wasn't saying much. Dark and dingy with walls made of rough unhewn grey stone and covered in the same dull green moss as the rest of the cave that hid the sanctuary. Even with the small flourishes and furnishings it still felt depressing. A simple wooden table and chair passed for a desk, covered high with scrolls and doctrines that formed the basis of the order's faith in Ur.

Though Verangian would never admit it to the brothers that dwelled this land, he hated the climate up in the constantly icy fjords that formed much of Hullcross' northern coasts. Even as close to the capital of Ice Fjord as they were the cold was harsh and good weather too infrequent for his preferences.

Still, this was where his true lord had sent him, and it was here that he would remain until things finally came together. It had taken some quick talking to get that annoying bastard Rindar off his back, but the matter had been settled with promises of the Archon's head on a plate.

Not that the glory of his task improved his mood at being stuck in the order's dreary Hullcross sanctuary. Plus, it was beyond frustrating for him not to be involved in a hunt personally as he had been in his younger days.

Getting up from behind his desk he slowly crossed the room and stepped out into the main chamber. It was as dank as his quarters, built into a cavern in one of the fjords the massively high ceiling was covered in long stalactites which dripped with the moisture that fed the ever-present moss.

The small stream that had once cut the chamber had been diverted to form a small moat around a large stone altar located in the exact center of the room. Atop the altar stood a large wooden effigy of Ur, the one true god.

Stopping only briefly to nod his head in respect to the effigy he quickly crossed and entered the tunnel that connected the cavern to the outside world.

Lamenting the fact that he was nowhere near the shape he'd once been in the master breathed heavily and climbed a steep set of stairs that led through the torchlit tunnel as the air became fresher and fresher until finally he caught a glimpse of natural sunlight breaking through the dim light of the torch fire.

With a final exaggerated breath, he crested the top of the stairs and stepped out of a crevasse and into the bright light of the noonday sun. Verangian let out a quiet sigh as he took in the cloudless sky above him. It was a solemn testament to how deep within the earth the sanctuary was that even the light of an uninhibited sun at its apex couldn't get the slightest trickle of a beam into its foreboding depths.

Putting thoughts of dark and dingy depths behind him he looked out to enjoy one the few good days that he'd seen in this bleak country so far.

The sun illuminated the grassy windswept fjords and deep blue water. Only a few small copses of thin scraggly trees dotted the landscape between the large field of rocks and long grass. Snowcapped mountain peaks in the distance framed the whole picturesque scene.