A Paladin's Journey Ch. 13

Berten chuckled. He had a rich voice, and it was an attractive sound. "Nor would I," he agreed, turning to face Kyra. "There is, of course, the other reason I abandoned Palistair."

Kyra didn't have to think very hard to know what he meant. "Lord Maloth," she said.

Berten nodded. "That man is more dangerous than Marcos, I believe. He will come for Amindaer when he is finished with Laefandell. None have been able to stop him, thus far."

"What else do you know about him?" Kyra enquired, trying not to sound too interested. She had sensed the darkness in Palistair months ago. Not long after, the storm had begun, and the earthquakes. The feeling of a shadow looming over her heart had only grown stronger as the weeks went on.

Berten shook his head ruefully. "Not much. Any spies I sent into his camp never came out. He either has a very good spymaster, or there are forces involved with which I have no experience." That was disappointing. Kyra had hoped Berten knew something useful. "All I know," he continued. "Is that he appeared from nowhere some months back, and now has an army made up of nations that haven't worked together for over a thousand years. On top of that, the kings and queens of those nations are missing and presumed dead."

Berten grimaced. "Whoever this fellow is, Kyra, he is not someone I wish to wait around for." So, Berten knew about as much as Kyra, then. "If he decides to come after Ekistair, perhaps we'll flee to the Isles of Alissar and live with the Aroyin, ey?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Despite the feeling of foreboding weighing on her, Kyra barked a laugh. "I doubt even you would survive more than a day in that place, my friend." Men often spoke of the legendary Aroyin, a tribe of seven-foot, bronze-skinned warrior women that kept men alive only for breeding and labour. As far as Kyra knew, that was all they were -- legend.

"Do not be so sure," Berten said confidently. "I have certain skills they might find... useful. Some of which you have experienced firsthand." He briefly cupped his crotch with a hand and hefted it for emphasis.

Kyra found herself laughing again. "You'll be lucky if they don't cut it off to teach you some humility," she said, though her smile took the sting off the words.

"Aye," Berten replied. "They'd need a big blade, that's for sure." He studied her for a moment, then clapped his hands together briskly. "Well, this chat has been enlightening as always, Kyra my dear, but I must check on my investments."

Kyra clucked her tongue in mild exasperation. "They are women, Berten. Not 'investments.'"

"Perhaps they are both, no?" Came his response as he turned and strode away. As he did, a big Orc moved away from where he'd been leaning on the foremast to follow Berten off down the deck like an enormous shadow.

Kyra resumed her study of the ocean off the bow, folding her arms and planting her feet against the roll of the ship. She was thinking about that huge vala again. "Whoever you are," she whispered. "You had better be ready for what's coming."

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END OF CHAPTER 13

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