The Jewel of Dantenos: A Lee Starfinder Adventure Read online

  The Jewel of

  Dantenos

  A Lee Starfinder Adventure

  “From the world of The Godling Chronicles” By: Brian D. Anderson

  The Jewel of Dantenos: A Lee Starfinder Adventure

  By

  Brian D. Anderson Copyright © Brian D. Anderson 2013

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.

  Contact GMTA Publishing, 2206 Wingate Road, Fayetteville, NC 28304

  Printed in the U.S.A.

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  Lee Starfinder sat astride his massive black stallion, head high and back straight. His fur-lined suede coat covered the silver silk shirt that he had received as tribute from the Miners’ Guild. His black hair was oiled and pushed back in Baltrian fashion, which had become the style in Hazrah. His black trousers and polished boots were decorated with tiny silver beads set in a crisscrossing pattern that glittered in the noonday sun. His long, slender blade hung carelessly at his side. Though he preferred to attach it to his saddle, this gave him an even greater air of superiority, important for a man of his standing and position. A true noble lord by all accounts.

  The streets of Hazrah were bustling with activity. The sounds of peddlers shouting their wares and the songs of wandering minstrels echoed off the stone walls of the buildings. Hazrah was a solidly built city constructed mostly from a dark gray granite common in the Razor Edge Mountains. This ensured that its structures would stand the test of time, not to mention any assault. Some houses and shops were as high as three stories, and though impressive to look at, they did funnel the harsh wind through the markets in winter. But thankfully, it was now early spring.

  The seed and hay merchants had begun to arrive, along with the copper and jewel traders up from the southlands. Lee owned six mines, and the sight of trade meant more gold for his coffers. Not that he didn’t have enough wealth already. Only the king boasted more. Still, more was better. Gold kept his house powerful and his interests secure.

  The scent of pack animals and the unwashed bodies of laborers mingled with the perfumes of the wealthy traders and nobles, which gave the air an unwholesome smell that Lee

  detested. It was why he rarely came to the market himself. His friends would tease him that he was abandoning his humble beginnings in favor of a lordly life. He knew they weren’t wrong, but also that they were little better. By all accounts, they lived as if they were wealthier than he (though they clearly were not). When not training or studying warfare, he spent time at the private baths reserved for landed nobility, or at lavish parties that took place almost every night. It was there he would cause tongues to wag. His self-confident swagger, good looks and carefree disposition caused the noble ladies to swoon, and Lee made no secret of the fact that he enjoyed their company. More than once he had faced down a jealous suitor or angry father. But, as his prowess with a blade was well known, he rarely had to do more than apologize and give an expensive gift to quell their fury.

  From the moment he inherited the title of Lord Nal’Thain, it was speculated as to whom he would wed. It was clear that a house of such vast riches and influence should have an heir. That Dauvis Nal’Thain has left his fortune to Lee to begin with had caused great discomfort among the nobles, being that he was a commoner and former servant. But luckily, Lee had sufficient gold and the wherewithal to silence their protests. Even so, as he had shown no more than a passing interest in any of the noblewomen in Hazrah, many feared for the future of his house.

  He glanced over his shoulder and scowled. Millet was riding just behind on an old painted mare. His prematurely gray hair and weathered features gave him the appearance of a far older man. In fact, he was only thirty-eight, a mere fifteen years Lee’s senior. Still, he was neither frail nor timid. On the contrary, he sat straight and proud as any lord, and his simple green cotton

  shirt and brown pants were tailored and well fitted to his thin frame.

  “You could have dressed a bit better, don’t you think?” scoffed Lee. Lee had a somewhat strained relationship with Millet.

  “Perhaps, my lord,” he replied. “But as we will be beyond the gates in minutes, and out of the public eye, I chose to dress for the journey.”

  Lee glared. He knew Millet disapproved of drawing attention to themselves on this particular trek. They would be away for quite some time if all went according to plan, and marching off as if to war would only start rumors flying prematurely. “I dressed according to my station, Millet. But don’t worry. I brought the rags you had placed in my quarters this morning.”

  “They were put there last night,” corrected Millet. “Which was when we were meant to depart.”

  “I refuse to skulk off in the night like a thief,” said Lee, irritably.

  “It’s not skulking, my lord,” he countered. His tone was calm and emotionless, but his eyes told a different tale as they met Lee’s. “We are to be away, and under assumed names. Do you not think we should be a bit less conspicuous?”

  Lee shrugged. “I don’t see why it should make a difference. Besides, I had promised Lady Grivalti a dance. Should I have broken my word and canceled the party?”

  “I think Lord Grivalti would rather you did,” said Millet disapprovingly. “Particularly being that I saw Lady Grivalti leaving the manor this morning…without her husband. And there was no party scheduled until yesterday afternoon. Begging your pardon, but I think you wanted the delay.”

  “And if I did,” Lee growled. “Who are you to question it? I swear, sometimes I wonder why I keep you around.”

  Millet chuckled. “Why indeed?”

  Lee knew very well just how valuable Millet really was. He had dismissed him a year ago, after a particularly long night of drinking and dancing. It only took three days before Lee realized that without Millet, things would soon fall apart. It was amazing to him how quickly he could lose gold through his own mismanagement. Orders for his mining interests needed filling daily, shipping schedules needed confirming, not to mention the basic requirements of his own household. Lee fumed as he recalled the smug expression on Millet’s face when he was forced to ask him to return.

  After they were an hour from the city gate, Lee halted to change into his travel clothes. He looked at the dusty rags Millet had given him. A plain brown tunic, tan trousers, and a worn pair of black leather boots. “I can’t believe you want me to dress like a bloody pig farmer.”

  Millet frowned. “It would be unwise for you to travel openly, my lord. It would attract unwanted trouble. It’s bad enough that you chose to ride your best stallion and bring your finest sword.” Lee knew he was right. He was always right, and that was what really annoyed him. “You know, I liked you much better

  when I was a servant.”

  “When you were a servant, you were far more responsible,” Millet retorted. “And now you have the added burden of the prophesy, which is why you really should be more mindful.”

  “I wish I had never told you about that,” said Lee as he mounted his stallion.

  “The fact is, you did tell me,” said Mi
llet. “And when the Oracle of Manisalia speaks, you should pay heed to her words.

  If the prophesy came to pass today, and you were given the hope of the world to protect, you would not be prepared.”

  Lee spurred his horse forward. “Why do you think I’m going on this journey? The sword masters in Hazrah have nothing more to teach me.”

  “True,” said Millet. “But I wish you would have chosen to seek out a master that was not so far away, or in so wild a place. Dantory is an unsophisticated desert oasis. When was the last time you left creature comforts behind?”

  “I’m not soft,” said Lee. “I can deal with hardship. Besides, I hear the women in Dantory are beautiful beyond compare.”

  Millet sighed and shook his head. “I have a feeling this will not end well.”

  Lee laughed. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll only pursue unwed maidens.”

  Travel that day was pleasant. The warm spring sun was made comfortable by a cool southern breeze coming off the mountains. The scent of honeysuckle and pine needles wafted through the air, bringing a smile to Lee’s face. Normally, they would lodge in one of Lee’s country homes, or in the home of another lord, but as they wanted to keep their departure and destination out of the rumor mill for as long as possible, they had decided to camp.

  Millet started a small fire and prepared some rice and lamb he had packed away. Lee lounged on his bedroll, content to watch Millet work. The light from the fading day began to wane, and the dim twinkle of starlight peeked through.

  “I think we’ll cut through Dashivis Pass,” said Lee, as he tossed his bowl carelessly aside.

  Millet retrieved it, muttered a curse, and began to clean up. “I think that would be a bad idea, my lord. Bandits are known to

  frequent there. Nothing would please them more than to run across two travelers foolish enough to brave the pass without an armed escort.”

  “You worry too much,” said Lee. “I can deal with any bandit scum. It will cut at least two weeks from our journey, and I would like to get there as quickly as possible.” He smiled. “You could always turn back. I’m sure your services would be appreciated back home.”

  “I doubt you would be able to manage without me, my lord,” said Millet. “You are a bit too rash to be left on your own. And if you insist on taking the Dashivis Pass, I would ask you to allow me to take the lead if we encounter anyone on the trail.”

  Lee rolled over and grumbled. He swore to learn how to run things without Millet when they returned.

  Millet shook Lee awake the next morning. The sun had hardly broken the horizon and a few stars were still visible. Lee rubbed his eyes and sat up. He was unaccustomed to rising this early, and the sight of Millet cheerfully packing the horses angered him.

  “Why must you be so bloody cheerful?” Lee struggled to his feet and stretched.

  “It’s just as well that you learn to grow accustomed to seeing the dawn, my lord,” Millet replied. He looked pleased that Lee was still tired. “In Dantory, you will be Lee Starfinder, not Lord Nal’Thain. The sword master will not teach you according to your schedule, and will likely expect you to rise early.” He tossed Lee a bar of soap. “There’s a stream a few hundred yards north. You should wash the oil from your hair. It is a clear indication of wealth, and will draw brigands down on us like flies to manure.”

  Lee ran his fingers through his hair. “As you wish.” His tone was sarcastic and venomous. He stalked away toward the stream.

  The pass was a full three days’ ride over rocky terrain, and Millet was right about it being frequented by bandits. A few merchants used it in the spring and summer months, but always with a large escort. Even then, there were occasional attacks. The king had tried in the past to make it safe for travelers, but bandits would nip away with hit and run attacks until losses became too much to justify the cost. In the winter, the snow made the crossing impossible. Many a traveler had lost their life in the attempt.

  Once Lee had washed and mounted, Millet took a scrutinizing glance and nodded, satisfied.

  “You do realize,” said Millet. “That even in spring the mountain pass is cold, and you brought no warm clothing.”

  “The time we save will be worth the discomfort,” Lee replied.

  Millet reached back into his pack and pulled out a thick blanket. “I think only one of us will be uncomfortable.”

  Lee snorted and spurred his horse.

  The road to Dashivis Pass was narrow and uneven. It wound its way through the dense pine forest for fifty miles, then over the rocky foothills, straight into the heart of the Razor Edge Mountains. The melting of the winter snow had washed out large sections of road, making it even more difficult to travel. What would have taken only take a day and a half on a well cared for road, took Lee and Millet five. The mountains loomed above them like great horned beasts threatening to devour them. The forest thinned and was mixed with thorny bushes, and was dotted in between with tiny yellow flowers springing forth from the jagged earth. When they were a mile from the entrance to the

  pass they came upon a section of road that had been completely washed away, leaving a huge gap in the road ten feet deep and ten feet wide that stretched east to west as far as the eye could see.

  Lee slid from his horse and stared across the damaged road. “Blast!” He spat and spun around.

  “It would seem we will take the long way around after all,” said Millet, in a failing attempt not to sound self-satisfied.

  Lee paced back and forth, fists clenched. Finally, he let out a roar. His voice echoed repeatedly off the mountainside.

  “Screaming won’t get you across,” came a woman’s voice from behind a rock, a few feet off the trail.

  Lee turned swiftly and drew his sword. “Who’s there?”

  A young woman appeared. Her straight, flaxen hair was cut to her shoulders. She was slender in build, yet strong and toned, made apparent by her well-fitted black leather trousers and blue cotton blouse. Her dark eyes and olive skin made Lee think of the women of his homeland on the coast of the Western Abyss. In her right hand she held a long, curved dagger.

  “Do you intend to rob me?” she asked. Her voice was feminine and musical, yet contained a hint of danger.

  Lee stared at her for a moment, then threw his head back in laughter. “Put away your blade, girl. We mean you no harm.”

  Millet leaned down from his horse and whispered, “As she may not be alone, it may be wise to make certain she means us none either.”

  This spawned more laughter. “Do you mean us harm? Tell me quickly. My companion thinks you’re dangerous.”

  “Then your companion is a much wiser man than you,” she remarked. “This close to the pass, all travelers are suspect.”

  “Then why reveal yourself?” asked Lee.

  “Better to reveal myself than get discovered,” she replied.

  “I see your point,” said Lee. “But my friend is right. It would be rather odd for anyone to be alone so close to the Dashivis Pass; least of all a young girl.”

  “I have seen twenty years,” she shot back. “And I am not alone. My brothers should be returning soon.”

  Lee scrutinized her for a moment. “You lie well. Sadly, I am not an easy man to lie to.” He stepped forward. “So why don’t you tell me what you’re really doing here?”

  The girl stared at Lee, her hand wrapped tightly around the dagger. “I am heading to Baltria. I am in a hurry, so I’m using the pass.” She looked at the road and frowned. “At least, I was until I got here. I was just about to look for another way across when I heard the two of you coming.”

  Lee rubbed his chin. “Well then. We should get started.” He sheathed his sword. “I am Lee Starfinder, and this is Millet.” He bowed low.

  “I am Lyndria,” she replied. “And I’m not certain your company is welcome.”

  Lee cocked his head and flashed a roguish grin. “As we are both traveling in the same direction, it seems unavoidable.”

  “True
enough.” She put away her dagger. “I was just about to head east and see if there is a way across.”

  “As good a plan as any,” said Lee. “What say you, Millet?”

  “I say you both are fools,” he replied. “But as I am not, I suppose it’s up to me to see you keep your foolishness to a minimum.”

  “I see your friend isn’t exactly a pleasant fellow,” said Lyndria.

  Lee shrugged. “He’s just grumpy when he’s tired.” He grabbed his horse’s reigns. “I hope we can get them across as well. I’d hate to go on foot the rest of the way.”

  They followed the gorge east through the forest for a mile, until they came across a makeshift bridge. The earth was well trodden, though no clear trail led from it. Lee examined the structure and declared that the horses could cross safely.

  “You should be asking, who built the bridge?” said Millet. “Not, is it safe to cross?”

  Lee drew his sword. “I’m not turning back now.” He smiled at Lyndria. “Besides, we are obligated to act as protectors.”

  Lyndria sighed and looked at Millet. “He thinks he’s rather charming, doesn’t he?”

  Millet rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

  They led the horses across the rickety bridge and made their way back to the road. The rocky terrain forced them to walk the horses. Lee tried his best to maneuver himself next to Lyndria, but she expertly kept herself closer to Millet, who was clearly amused by this.

  “We should reach the pass within the hour,” said Lyndria. “Unless you two are tired?”

  “We’re fine,” said Lee, boastfully. “I could walk for days without rest.”

  Lyndria gave Lee a weak smile. “How nice for you. But I assume you’ll be riding.”