Knight Eternal (A Novel of Epic Fantasy) (Harbinger of Doom Volume 3) by Glenn Thater

those days, but a far sight thinner, and so young he could
barely grow a wisp of a beard. Ob was Ob and Gabe was Gabe, those
two never did seem to change. Of course with Ob—he’s a gnome and
they’re known to be long-lived. With Gabe it was a bit of a
mystery. Came from some old bloodline, I expect, and looked half
his years, if that. Anyways, our ship put to anchor off the Dead
Fens, near the west bank of the Hudsar—a mere ten leagues south of
where we sit. We launched in a longboat and rowed across to the
east bank and up a tributary into the Fens. By turns, we rowed and
levered our way with long poles deeper into that accursed
swamp.”
    Malvegil stood and looked at each man in
turn, his expression serious.
    Here it comes, the part he’s got down word
for word. Let’s see what he’s added since the last.
    “ The whole of the Dead
Fens stretched out before us. A vast landscape of wanton
degradation. A morass so putrid, so miasmic as to cloud the mind
and rend the soul. It has been avoided for countless generations by
all who know its reputation. In that time, it has taken only those
lost wanderers who knew not whence they strayed, and a few would-be
adventurers chasing fairy gold or glory. But the Dead Fens is no
mere swamp or bog or marsh. There is a presence to that place. A
palpable persona to it—an ancient evil from a bygone
age.”
    That last line is new.
Can’t argue with it, though.
    “ Those that enter or even
skirt its borders are besought with all manner of misfortunes,
great and small. From accidents, to illness, from rotting food to
rancid water, where hours before there was freshness. That place is
decay, ancient and unforgiving. A slimy putrescence, a decrepit
miasma likened to the grave. Such are the Dead Fens.”
    Gets better with each
telling. He should write it down, preserve it for
posterity.
    Gravemare stormed into the room. “My Lord,
there’s trouble on our guests’ ship.”
     
    ***
     
    The ship was in chaos; men ran to and fro.
Captain Slaayde and his officers shouted orders to bring all pumps
to the forward hold. Two burly sailors dragged a third man, limp,
lifeless, and drenched in water from below deck. Seran Harringgold
followed on their heels.
    “ What happened?” asked
Claradon as he and Ob walked toward Seran.
    “ I caught this one
drilling a hole in the hull,” said Seran as he pointed to the
drenched man on the deck. Seran bent down and turned the man onto
his back. A dagger was buried in his chest. “I cornered him and
when he saw there was no escape, he stabbed himself. What kind of
man would do that?”
    “ Is the stinking bugger
one of Slaayde’s crew?” asked Ob.
    “ I’ve seen him aboard,”
said Seran.
    Ob bent down and examined the corpse.
    “ How bad is the damage to
the ship?” asked Claradon.
    “ There’s lots of water
down there. He must’ve drilled at least a couple of holes before I
discovered him.”
    “ He’s a Leaguer,” said Ob
after exposing a tattoo on the dead man’s shoulder. “He’s got the
mark of Mortach.”
    Hours later, long after
they had planned to leave, Slaayde’s crew had finished patching the
holes in the hull and pumping the water from the hold. Much of the
ship’s supplies were ruined.
    “ You now face the same
problem that you did yesterday,” said Malvegil. “You will not make
it past the Fens before dark. Can I convince you to remain another
night?”
    “ I appreciate your
concern, Uncle, but we can remain here no longer,” said Claradon.
“Too much depends on our speed.”
    Glimador and a dozen Malvegil soldiers
carrying bows marched up to the two Dor Lords as they stood on the
pier.
    “ These are some of my most
skilled bowman,” said Malvegil. “Please accept their service on
your quest, nephew.”
    “ I’ll make good use of
them, Uncle. Thank you.”
    “ May Odin’s favor shine on
you, my boy. Come back safe and Jude with you.”
     
    Lord Malvegil and his Lady
watched The Black Falcon depart from