The Soul Sphere: Book 01 - The Shattered Sphere by David Adams Page B

Mountains. North spread the Garden Valley, lush land that yielded bountiful crops, though the dwarves themselves did not tend the fields. Humans dwelled there and traded with the dwarves, just as they did with their own kind dwelling west in the Westerland and north in Lorgras. The great Wandering River split the Valley, its source the y-shaped intersection where the Trawnor Mountains met the Aetos.
    “A beautiful land,” remarked Corson. “It seems even greener than it might, considering the blight elsewhere. I wonder, though, why Solek has not struck here.”
    “There are no cities in the Valley,” said Alexis. “His focus is on population centers. Arna’s Forge will eventually be targeted, and I don’t doubt this land will be made to suffer as well.”
    “Are these the lands in dispute?” Demetrius asked.
    “The river divides Lorgras and the Westerland. Meldros claims Arna’s Forge and all the land of the Valley. Duke Fallo’s holdings in the Westerland are such that he pays little heed to Meldros’ claims. They have made a peace of convenience. Live and let live. Our Queen has long held that Meldros has no claim to the land north of the river, but since his dwelling is in the Westerland there has been little more exchanged than harsh words.”
    “But those words have been said, one party to the other?”
    “Enough that neither people are welcome in the homes of the other. It seems a petty thing now, considering what Solek has done. But old grudges die hard.”
    They continued on well past dark, taking advantage of the clear sky and the light of the moon. Near midnight they decided that a nearby grove of dense trees would make a likely camping spot. Lighting a small fire to ward off the night chill, they set the watch and tried to get some rest.
    Lucien had the night’s third watch. He circled slowly through the trees, his eyes always moving, always alert, his warblade drawn and ready. The night was still and quiet, only the gentle buzzing of insects and the soft crackle of the fire marring an otherwise perfect silence.
    Suddenly he froze, thinking he saw a dark shape in the trees just at the edge of his peripheral vision. He turned slowly but saw nothing, the flickering light and rustling leaves playing tricks on him. He counted his companions and found them all safe by the fire, then did the same with the horses.
    “I must be getting jumpy in my old age,” he mumbled to himself, using the goblin language. Despite his own dismissive words, he remained tense during the remainder of his watch.
    He woke Corson when his watch was through, hesitated a moment, and then said, “Thought I saw shape in trees. Not there when looked. Saw and heard nothing.”
    “Might have been a trick of the light from the fire. And we’ve been through a lot. Get some sleep.”
    “Be careful.”
    “I will,” Corson answered, stifling a yawn. He laughed at himself and at the scowl the yawn drew from Lucien. “I will keep a good watch.”
    He was as good as his word, and even though Corson saw nothing, he warned Demetrius in the same way. When morning came they discussed what had taken place, and Lucien felt led to apologize for a false warning.
    “It is better to be cautious and alert,” said Tala, even as the others started to tease the goblin in a good-natured way. “The Dark One has many servants.”
    “Did you see something as well?” Rowan asked her.
    “No. I slept soundly. And if something was there, there is little we can do about it now. Lucien, how big was the shadow?”
    “Size of goblin or man, but not like either. Not see well enough to say more.”
    Tala pondered this for a time. “We should all stay on our guard. If anyone thinks they see anything, day or night, let me know.”
    “What do you think it might be?” Rowan asked.
    “I’d rather not say unless we see something again. It might be nothing.”
    The day was gray, clouds rolling in from the west and bringing a hint of snow. As the group rode