Read Online Sanctuary (Dominion) by Kris Kramer - Free Book Online Page A

often to pick up a stray branch or a dry handful of grass. Eventually, he darted around a mass of fallen trees and brush at the base of a small, jagged hill, and then disappeared. When I followed him, I discovered why - he'd taken us to a cave.
    I stepped inside and immediately crouched down because I could barely see in the darkness. Arkael was already hunched over, several paces in, just past a bend in the cave. He’d laid down the branches and grass, pushing them together into a clump, readying a small fire. I smiled and rubbed my hands. It wasn't the kind of roof over my head I'd expected, and there was no guarantee we wouldn't be surprised by a pack of boars in the middle of the night, but it was dry, and would soon be warm. I laid out my robes and blanket and sat down, thankful to be off my aching feet. A moment later, a spark ignited the grass and kindling in Arkael's fire, illuminating the small cave and providing us with the first hints of its warmth. The cave was narrow at this point but it opened up toward the back. I had no desire to explore any of it, but I couldn’t help but notice a structure in the darkness, short, stout, about waist high and flat at the top. It didn't seem to be a natural formation, which made it stand out.
    “What’s that?” I asked, leaning closer.
    Arkael sat on the ground opposite me and pulled his boots off. “An altar.”
    “What kind of altar?”
    “Mithraist.”
    “Mithras,” I whispered. The cult of Mithras was a warrior cult that began during Roman times and found its way to Britain. They sacrificed bulls to the god Mithras in exchange for glory in battle, but they were incredibly secretive, and no one really knew anything else about them. I stood up, intending to see it up close.
    “I wouldn’t go back there. The blood might still be fresh.”
    “They still use it?” I sat back down, suddenly unwilling to wallow through gore.
    “They’re not using it tonight.” He produced a rough strip of wool from his pack and began thoroughly wiping the mud and grass from his boots. He seemed genuinely interested in caring for them, and completely unconcerned about this cave’s normal purpose, so I forced myself to relax as well. I warmed my hands, hesitant to say anything that would interrupt him, or aggravate him as I had earlier. That was difficult, though, especially since I’d learned nothing about him the entire day. I couldn’t shake the notion that I was wasting valuable time, so I decided to try a new approach. I would tell him about me, and perhaps he’d reciprocate.
    “I saw a druid when I was young," I began, "in Eoferwic, north of here. I didn’t know what a druid was, of course. I just saw a man in a blue robe, wearing this expensive silver chain, with some strange symbol on it. I grew up in the church there, the one dedicated to St. Peter, and I asked one of the priests if he was also a priest, because I remembered seeing that same medallion before. He said no, but he refused to tell me what he really was. He just said not to talk to him, no matter what, because his words would twist my mind and darken my soul. ‘Druids and their riddles,’ he would say. I had no idea what that meant. I guess I still don’t. I didn’t find out what a Druid was until months later, from a clerk who brought us messages from the monastery in Jarrow. He told me about their Order, and I was so completely fascinated that I spent the next two years trying to learn everything I could.”
    “No one at the church would talk of it. I’d be beaten for even bringing it up. So I asked the other boys in town, and the guards, and the sailors, and the merchants, and anyone who would tolerate having me bother them. I think it was the search itself that I found most interesting, the mystery. In the end, I learned a lot of things that probably aren’t true, and maybe a few that are. But the best lesson I took from that experience has stayed with me ever since, and it has nothing to do with