Jodocus,” Eamon said. “I will use it wisely.”
“One more thing!” Jodocus interjected, going back to his chest. “This is for both of you.”
Jodocus brought back a large pouch inscribed with druidic symbols. “These are healing herbs,” he explained. “Prepare them like tea and drink it hot. It will replenish you when you are weary, and will help you heal when you are injured.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Eamon said. “You have been very helpful to us. How can we ever repay you?”
Jodocus sighed. “Speak to the Dragon and fulfill your destiny as your Grandfather’s successor. That is all I ask. I know you are strong enough to do so. And you, Wrothgaar, see that Eamon makes it safely to Dol Drakkar. The rewards to you will be great as well.”
“I will,” Wrothgaar promised. “And I will tell my people of how you helped us.”
Jodocus smiled. “Thank you, my friend. Now, it is getting late and the two of you should rest. You may stay here for the night and help yourself to all the food you like. When you awaken, I will be gone. I have business elsewhere on the island.”
“Where will you go?” Eamon asked. “And how can we find you if we need your help?”
“I will be where I need to be. This is my battle, as well, and I must do my duty to maintain the balance. I will do whatever I can to do so. If you need me, don’t bother calling for me. I will have already been there.”
Jodocus winked, fading from sight.
“Well,” Wrothgaar said. “I guess that answers your question.”
Farouk stepped off of the small rowboat as it pulled up on the Eastern shore of Eirenoch. He removed his armored turban, letting his long, black hair loose to flow in the breeze. Despite his heavy, woolen tunic and cloak, and the armor that chaffed his skin, the small gesture made him feel a little like himself again.
There was a chill in the air that made him uncomfortable, but the beautiful landscape put a smile on his face as he took it all in. It was quite different from his desert homeland. There were trees and bushes the likes of which he had never seen before, and even the cliff wall that rose before him was home to a wide variety of birds and flowering plants.
He looked to the sky, which was overcast and gray. The sun was barely discernable, but Farouk found it comforting. In his homeland, the sun beat down from the sky like a hellish orb of fire. Here, it was cool and unobtrusive. The change was quite refreshing.
He looked back at his men as they scrambled to disembark, and saw his brother Azim strapping on his sword and bow. The Jindala warriors were impressive and deadly, but Azim was a master swordsman and archer, and could best any man in combat. He felt fortunate to have Azim with him, as the two had always been close, even for brothers. Azim’s demeanor was one of rationality and compassion, two qualities that always brought Farouk comfort in such a chaotic world.
“Off! Off!” Farouk commanded, waving his arms toward the cliffs. “We make camp here for the night.”
The beach was secluded, perfect for massing troops. The other groups of Jindala, including the Diplomats, had made camp here, and their gear was still present. Lavish tents lined the beach, each one complete with comfortable beds and other reminders of home. Farouk’s men would be grateful for a good night’s rest on dry land. Their many days at sea had taken their toll. The Jindala were not seafaring men.
Azim came and stood next to his brother, watching the men unload and make their way toward the camp. “The men will be fine to travel in the morning,” he said. “They are strong, and your leadership inspires them.”
Farouk said nothing, but continued watching them. He felt an uneasiness overcome him. Not an uneasiness caused by the chill anymore, but something he couldn’t describe. Almost like a feeling of abandonment. There was something missing here in this land. And something present that he never felt in his
“One more thing!” Jodocus interjected, going back to his chest. “This is for both of you.”
Jodocus brought back a large pouch inscribed with druidic symbols. “These are healing herbs,” he explained. “Prepare them like tea and drink it hot. It will replenish you when you are weary, and will help you heal when you are injured.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Eamon said. “You have been very helpful to us. How can we ever repay you?”
Jodocus sighed. “Speak to the Dragon and fulfill your destiny as your Grandfather’s successor. That is all I ask. I know you are strong enough to do so. And you, Wrothgaar, see that Eamon makes it safely to Dol Drakkar. The rewards to you will be great as well.”
“I will,” Wrothgaar promised. “And I will tell my people of how you helped us.”
Jodocus smiled. “Thank you, my friend. Now, it is getting late and the two of you should rest. You may stay here for the night and help yourself to all the food you like. When you awaken, I will be gone. I have business elsewhere on the island.”
“Where will you go?” Eamon asked. “And how can we find you if we need your help?”
“I will be where I need to be. This is my battle, as well, and I must do my duty to maintain the balance. I will do whatever I can to do so. If you need me, don’t bother calling for me. I will have already been there.”
Jodocus winked, fading from sight.
“Well,” Wrothgaar said. “I guess that answers your question.”
Farouk stepped off of the small rowboat as it pulled up on the Eastern shore of Eirenoch. He removed his armored turban, letting his long, black hair loose to flow in the breeze. Despite his heavy, woolen tunic and cloak, and the armor that chaffed his skin, the small gesture made him feel a little like himself again.
There was a chill in the air that made him uncomfortable, but the beautiful landscape put a smile on his face as he took it all in. It was quite different from his desert homeland. There were trees and bushes the likes of which he had never seen before, and even the cliff wall that rose before him was home to a wide variety of birds and flowering plants.
He looked to the sky, which was overcast and gray. The sun was barely discernable, but Farouk found it comforting. In his homeland, the sun beat down from the sky like a hellish orb of fire. Here, it was cool and unobtrusive. The change was quite refreshing.
He looked back at his men as they scrambled to disembark, and saw his brother Azim strapping on his sword and bow. The Jindala warriors were impressive and deadly, but Azim was a master swordsman and archer, and could best any man in combat. He felt fortunate to have Azim with him, as the two had always been close, even for brothers. Azim’s demeanor was one of rationality and compassion, two qualities that always brought Farouk comfort in such a chaotic world.
“Off! Off!” Farouk commanded, waving his arms toward the cliffs. “We make camp here for the night.”
The beach was secluded, perfect for massing troops. The other groups of Jindala, including the Diplomats, had made camp here, and their gear was still present. Lavish tents lined the beach, each one complete with comfortable beds and other reminders of home. Farouk’s men would be grateful for a good night’s rest on dry land. Their many days at sea had taken their toll. The Jindala were not seafaring men.
Azim came and stood next to his brother, watching the men unload and make their way toward the camp. “The men will be fine to travel in the morning,” he said. “They are strong, and your leadership inspires them.”
Farouk said nothing, but continued watching them. He felt an uneasiness overcome him. Not an uneasiness caused by the chill anymore, but something he couldn’t describe. Almost like a feeling of abandonment. There was something missing here in this land. And something present that he never felt in his
Similar Books
