All that Glitters (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 1) by Loren K. Jones Page B
Authors: Loren K. Jones
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the legend of Mary Death, and held her crypt and monument. Stavin knew that the legend of Mary Death had been among Shari's and Sorandis’ favorite tales when they were young. I’ve got to write to her about this.
The caravan approached from the north, so they did not get to cross either of the mighty bridges. Instead they were confronted by the great stone wall that crossed the isthmus as the city's northern defense.
The traders stopped and parked their wagons at a caravansary outside the city. Barvil led all of his men to the master trader's wagon to receive their payment. The trader was waiting for them with a smile.
"Come for your pay, I see," the trader said when he saw them. "You've done well by me and I've no complaints. Never do from your people. As agreed, five silver crowns a day by fifty-two days comes to three hundred and twelve silvers. Here are thirty-one gold and two silver crowns, and my thanks. It'll be a moon before I have another shipment, but if you don't find other employment before then, I'd be glad to have you along for that trip as well."
Barvil clasped forearms with the trader and smiled. "We shall see what the Gods decree, and if it is the Gods' will, we will be glad to travel with you again. If not, then may peace and prosperity follow you wherever you go."
With that simple parting, Barvil led his men toward the city gates. Two guardsmen stepped out to bar their way. "State your purpose in the city," the older of the two said.
Barvil had received instructions on what to say, so he replied, "We are free men employed as caravan guards. We wish to enter your city to seek employment with the Traders Guild."
The guards nodded and stepped aside. "The Traders' Guild is located on the fifth street to your right," the younger guard said. "You'll see it as soon as you turn."
"The Temple is straight twenty streets, left eight, right ten, then right again four," the older guard said with a smile.
Barvil fixed his eyes on the man and asked, "How did you know we wanted to go to the Temple of Justice?"
The old man smiled at Barvil and laughed. "Every warrior who comes to this city wants to go to the temple and pay his respects to Mary Death. You'd be an odd lot if you didn't."
Barvil smiled ruefully and nodded. "An odd lot indeed, good Sir. Please forgive my suspicion." The guard simply smiled and stepped aside.
* * *
Stavin's golden armor had been noticed by just about everyone in the caravansary, and the manager quickly approached the trader as soon as the warriors had passed into the city. "Did I just see a warrior in golden armor with your escorts?" he asked, looking off in the direction of the city.
"No, of course not," the trader answered. "Gold is too soft and heavy to make into armor. No, young Stavin's armor is made of dragon scales, and by the dragon that shed them himself." He went on to tell Stavin's story with hardly any embellishments. "Quite a tale, isn't it?" he asked when he was done.
"Indeed," the manager said as he looked toward the city. "It is indeed quite a tale. Excuse me, I have to return to my duties." He hurried away, leaving the trader chuckling by his wagon.
Other traders were lining up to ask the same question, but the trader refused, saying, "Tonight in the Master Trader's Hall I'll tell the tale again. For now, we all have work to do."
* * *
The manager of the caravansary hurried back to his office, then into the city. His destination was the palace office of Lord Zel'Corvis, Lord Minister of Trade in Evandia.
Lord Zel'Corvis was in his office, dealing with the few elements of Evandia's trade network that his subordinates couldn't handle. He was annoyed by the interruption and showed it. "Why are you here, Pattin? Your post is at the caravansary."
Pattin Zel'Orfin went to one knee briefly, then strode right up to Lord Zel'Corvis's desk. "My lord, I have urgent news. There is a warrior in the city who claims to have spoken to a dragon."
Lord Zel'Corvis sat very
The caravan approached from the north, so they did not get to cross either of the mighty bridges. Instead they were confronted by the great stone wall that crossed the isthmus as the city's northern defense.
The traders stopped and parked their wagons at a caravansary outside the city. Barvil led all of his men to the master trader's wagon to receive their payment. The trader was waiting for them with a smile.
"Come for your pay, I see," the trader said when he saw them. "You've done well by me and I've no complaints. Never do from your people. As agreed, five silver crowns a day by fifty-two days comes to three hundred and twelve silvers. Here are thirty-one gold and two silver crowns, and my thanks. It'll be a moon before I have another shipment, but if you don't find other employment before then, I'd be glad to have you along for that trip as well."
Barvil clasped forearms with the trader and smiled. "We shall see what the Gods decree, and if it is the Gods' will, we will be glad to travel with you again. If not, then may peace and prosperity follow you wherever you go."
With that simple parting, Barvil led his men toward the city gates. Two guardsmen stepped out to bar their way. "State your purpose in the city," the older of the two said.
Barvil had received instructions on what to say, so he replied, "We are free men employed as caravan guards. We wish to enter your city to seek employment with the Traders Guild."
The guards nodded and stepped aside. "The Traders' Guild is located on the fifth street to your right," the younger guard said. "You'll see it as soon as you turn."
"The Temple is straight twenty streets, left eight, right ten, then right again four," the older guard said with a smile.
Barvil fixed his eyes on the man and asked, "How did you know we wanted to go to the Temple of Justice?"
The old man smiled at Barvil and laughed. "Every warrior who comes to this city wants to go to the temple and pay his respects to Mary Death. You'd be an odd lot if you didn't."
Barvil smiled ruefully and nodded. "An odd lot indeed, good Sir. Please forgive my suspicion." The guard simply smiled and stepped aside.
* * *
Stavin's golden armor had been noticed by just about everyone in the caravansary, and the manager quickly approached the trader as soon as the warriors had passed into the city. "Did I just see a warrior in golden armor with your escorts?" he asked, looking off in the direction of the city.
"No, of course not," the trader answered. "Gold is too soft and heavy to make into armor. No, young Stavin's armor is made of dragon scales, and by the dragon that shed them himself." He went on to tell Stavin's story with hardly any embellishments. "Quite a tale, isn't it?" he asked when he was done.
"Indeed," the manager said as he looked toward the city. "It is indeed quite a tale. Excuse me, I have to return to my duties." He hurried away, leaving the trader chuckling by his wagon.
Other traders were lining up to ask the same question, but the trader refused, saying, "Tonight in the Master Trader's Hall I'll tell the tale again. For now, we all have work to do."
* * *
The manager of the caravansary hurried back to his office, then into the city. His destination was the palace office of Lord Zel'Corvis, Lord Minister of Trade in Evandia.
Lord Zel'Corvis was in his office, dealing with the few elements of Evandia's trade network that his subordinates couldn't handle. He was annoyed by the interruption and showed it. "Why are you here, Pattin? Your post is at the caravansary."
Pattin Zel'Orfin went to one knee briefly, then strode right up to Lord Zel'Corvis's desk. "My lord, I have urgent news. There is a warrior in the city who claims to have spoken to a dragon."
Lord Zel'Corvis sat very
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