Allavin Devers and Ticastasy had both tried talking him out of his journey to Landmoor. Both had been shocked by his revelation that he had spoken with Jaerod. He found it strange that the Sleepwalker had only chosen to speak with him. Yet the experience had left him frustrated and confused. Why such an enigmatic request? Why not speak to the heart of the matter to ensure that his message was delivered well? He had no idea what Jaerod had meant that a message would come to him after meeting with the Bandit commander. It made no sense at all.
Three sharp whistles sounded in the woods. He knew the different kinds of woodland owls that lived in a forest of that size, but they were asleep this time of day. Closing his eye, he kept his pace and felt outwards to sense the different forms of Life magic nearby. He felt the Kiran Thall instantly and a wave of dread passed through him.
Exeres stopped and waited, eyes closed, opening his other senses. The weight of his traveling pack pulled on his shoulders. The flask of water that thumped and swayed before settling against his hip. He carried no weapons, not even a walking staff. But the very earth itself could be a weapon for a Druid priest.
He kept his head slightly bowed. “I sense you all,” he said in a carrying voice. “Four of you are hiding behind me and four in front. I am a Zerite from the Isherwood sent to aid the injured of Landmoor. May I pass?”
A voice murmured something on his right. He could not make out the words.
“We don’t need the Druids any more, but Ballinaire might have you care for our prisoners. You were wise not carrying a weapon, Zerite.”
Exeres shrugged and raised his head. He looked to the source of the voice. “I can walk very well on my own. Or do I need an escort?”
“You’ll get an escort.” The Kiran Thall rose from his position behind a fallen tree. His face was painted black and his clothes blended well in the woodlands. He carried a crossbow but did not point it at Exeres. “Whether or not you want one. Mahlon—ride him to the city.”
Exeres nodded to the Kiran Thall and followed the soldier deeper into the woods where they had tethered their horses.
“You’ll ride behind me,” Mahlon said, releasing the tether and then hoisting himself up onto the saddle. He held out his arm for Exeres and pulled him up behind him.
It was an uncomfortable ride down the Iron Point Road. Exeres was not used to saddles and his legs chafed against it before an hour was done. The bounce and sense of balance unnerved him, but he clenched his thighs and managed to keep himself from falling. If they rode hard, the Kiran Thall told him, they would reach Landmoor after nightfall. That meant saddle blisters but Exeres had some ointment that would help soothe the rawness.
They changed horses once at the center of the Shadows Wood where a vanguard of Kiran Thall had gathered. The signs of a recent army encampment scarred the forest like dead flesh around a festering wound. Humid air and mugginess thickened each breath and the gnats and horseflies hovered in small clouds.
“Are there any prisoners here?” Exeres asked Mahlon, unable to believe that half the army wasn’t fighting off tide fever.
“They were all taken into the city after it fell. We’ll be there soon enough, Zerite.”
A foul odor stung his senses, rancid and decaying. He tried to find the source of the vast stink, but he could not see it. It could have been a field full of carcasses. Why couldn’t he see it?
“Was a battle fought here?” Exeres strained his neck, trying to look through the ranks. The mud beneath the horse’s hooves seemed mixed with blood.
“No, Zerite. They are just beginning.”
Nightfall came sooner than Exeres would have liked. The darkness brought a feeling of foulness that only got worse the further south they rode. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The feeling brewed as they left the confines of the Shadows Wood. A cool sealand breeze cut through the mugginess at last and Exeres felt like he could breathe again. Then he saw Landmoor.
The fortress stood on a hill in a sea of fog. Rings of light illuminated the walls, making the city glow like lamps in the night. The mist gave it a wraithlike quality—a city in the clouds almost. Memories of a dream flickered in his mind and he closed his eyes, trying to capture it. A city in the clouds? Why did that seem so familiar? Had he dreamed of Landmoor before? His thoughts were like tiny shards that cut his fingers as he tried to snatch them. Sleepwalkers…the city in the clouds was the home of the Sleepwalkers. An impression of thought stabbed his heart. It was Exeres’ home.
“Careful, priest, don’t fall off,” Mahlon said, steadying him. “We’re almost there.”
Exeres stared back up at the city as a shudder coiled in him.
*
"What’s your name, priest?” the Bandit officer asked. Exeres could tell he was an officer because of his black armor fringed with gold. The officer was in his mid-forties, with a receding hairline and a slack face. He wore his sword high on his hip.
“Exeres from Isherwood.”
“I’m Captain Brade, Shoreland regiment. Have you had anything to eat today? The kitchens are just up ahead.”