Брюс Корделл - Oath of Nerull

“Her chapter in Volanth was wiped out,” supplied Brek Gorunn. “We’re pretty sure that was done by Nerullan cultists, too.”

Nebin gulped, and Hennet said, “I’m so sorry! I….”

“Thank you,” replied Ember, expressionless.

“Guess what, Hennet and I are on our way to New Koratia, too,” said the gnome. “We’re competing in the Duel Arcane. Why don’t we go together? They say companions on the road make long journeys shorter. Besides, Hennet has heard all my stories too many times—I need a fresh audience.” The gnome laughed.

“What a good idea, Nebin!” enthused Hennet, sitting forward. He stole a quick glance at the monk. “Well, that is, if you’ll have us?”

Brek grunted. “A fine idea. Security on the road and all that. Ember?”

“It could be dangerous. If you’re willing to join forces, you’re more than welcome,” said Ember. “You had no cause to help us, but you did anyway. If I could reward you, I would. Accept my thanks instead.”

“Anyone would have done the same,” said Hennet.

“No one else did.”

The travelers gathered their gear and met in the courtyard. The two spellcasters were traveling by horse-drawn wagon. Ember and Brek Gorunn had walked from Volanth, and were happy to continue their journey by wagon instead of on foot.

As Hennet led the horses from the inn’s stable, he said, “This is Rain, the other Dust. I bought them two weeks ago, and they have served us well.”

He hitched the horses, and motioned the others to board. The wagon was a simple coach, with two bench seats and some room for baggage beneath the seats. It was in serviceable condition, though it wasn’t covered; passengers would be alternately baked by the sun and drenched by the rain, if it came to that. Still, Ember quickly decided that it was a wonderful contrivance for long journeys. Before long the group was trotting down the road at a steady pace, Hennet driving in the front seat with the reigns clutched in both hands.

The road was in remarkable repair, allowing the travelers to laugh off the worst of the bumps. Often, the road ran straight and wide through low, level grasslands. Other times it wound through deep groves of conifer trees. Farms and small communities were closely spaced along the road. Once, as they rolled easily over a commanding rise, Ember could see ahead to the gently rising and falling grassland dotted with clumps of trees, all gently melting away into a green, grassy haze in the distance. The road ran straight on until it too disappeared in the faraway blur.

“Am I crazed?” wondered Brek Gorunn.

Hennet had passed him the reigns earlier at his request. He knew far less about driving horses than the sorcerer, but wanted to give it a try.

“Relax!” laughed Hennet, who stood behind him. “The horses can sense your tension. Really, you don’t need to pull on the reigns so much. The horses know what to do. Only use the reigns in an emergency.”

The dwarf sucked in a big breath and slowly let it out. Sure enough, once he relaxed and loosened his grip on the reigns, the going seemed easier. The horses plodded along, oblivious to his crisis of doubt. He allowed himself a small grin under his beard.

“Perhaps I am getting the hang of this.”

Hennet watched the dwarf linger for a short time. As each minute passed, Brek’s confidence swelled.

He said, “Go on, sit down, I’ve got it licked.”

Hennet nodded and turned to find his seat among the other passengers. Ember sat on a wagon bench, facing sideways, one hand propping up her head. Nebin’s nose was in his book of spells and his mouth was muttering. Glancing back occasionally, Brek could see that the sorcerer wanted to speak with Ember, but seemed uncertain.

Hennet finally sat down next to Ember. The sorcerer touched Ember’s shoulder and asked if she was comfortable. The dwarf couldn’t help overhearing when the two began talking—they were all sitting in the same wagon.

Ember sighed. She looked out past the slowly scrolling landscape for a second before saying, “Sometimes I lose myself in the moment. I find myself enjoying the scenery, or absorbed in an exercise of my order. I look up and see a cloud that reminds me of something and for a moment I forget the reason for my trip. But when that happens, something else inside me says, ‘you can’t be happy.’ Then I remember what happened to my chapter in Volanth. It comes back to me.

“They were all my friends.”

She lapsed into silence, and Hennet was silent for a few seconds, as well. Brek glanced back and saw that the sorcerer was fumbling with his cloak.

Finally, Hennet said, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re going through. But, I know that with enough time, things improve. It’s getting through until then—that’s the trick.”

“Easy to say, hard to bear,” said Ember.

Hennet remained quiet this time. Brek Gorunn mused on what he knew of his companions. The dwarf had known Ember for only the short time he’d worked with the Volanth chapter. She was the stalwart sort, for a human. She had suffered a grievous blow, but showed every sign of pulling through.

He wondered about the sorcerer. The dwarf expected that Hennet meant well. That was the human way, to “talk things out.” Not like dwarves. They drew their strength from personal detachment and from turning inward when things went sour.

The travelers made good time. The weather remained fine, clear, and cool. With the aid of the wagon, several days of relatively pleasant travel passed. At night they camped along the roadside, drawing up sometimes near other weary travelers. For the most part, they passed only farmers on the road, moving locally between the small villages to sell their produce. They also passed a caravan traveling the opposite direction, a group of sellswords down on their luck, and a company of Peloran brothers, marching across the country, nearly blind from too many adoring glances into the fiery sun.

In this way, the group finally came to the city of New Koratia.

New Koratia was built at the intersection of the Duke’s Road and mighty River Delnir. Four centuries earlier, the Baron Dammeral, eager for his own lands, broke away from the Kingdom of Soes and founded Koratia as the seat of his government. Dammeral, his government, and even the Kingdom of Soes were long gone, but the duchy of Koratia remained. The city was an important trade hub, ideally situated on those two great thoroughfares. Fortunes were made in lost in New Koratia, but the city continued to grow.

Hennet drove the wagon up to the open city gates. Burly guards paid them little attention as their rough coach rolled under the stone arch and into town. A wide avenue opened up before them. On it, they merged into the throng of others entering the city, moving down the crowded, sun-warmed avenue.

Tall buildings, three and four stories in height, framed the main road on either side. Smaller streets leading off the main thoroughfare quickly twisted away into tenement-lined alleys, courtyards filled with tents, bazaars, and shops, only to spill out unexpectedly onto another large road. A thousand exotic smells wafted through the air, and the languages of many people and races mingled into a single buzz. To the east, the buildings gave way to warehouses and then to docks, where the river merchants bought and sold their wares. Many things could be had in New Koratia, some truly marvelous and exotic. The city’s market district was the wonder of the region.

Farther along the main avenue, gilded towers rose to majestic heights. The duchy’s nobles lived there. The towers were striking to behold as they sparkled in the sun, but even these paled when compared to the glistening cylinder of glass that floated without visible support above the city’s center. It was carved with many balconies and stairways, and its tip shone brilliantly with a light all its own. Low-drifting clouds sometimes got entangled among the highest balconies, the people of New Koratia liked to tell strangers.