Read Online The Quest (The Sons of Camelot Book 2) by Kim Dragoner - Free Book Online
Authors: Kim Dragoner
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you’re welcome to it. This mist was a rather unique phenomenon. It came from the antlers of those silvery stags that I mentioned. It was a defense against the great wolves that once roamed this land; not the scrawny things we have now, but massive creatures that might rival in size that mare of yours, Miss Alpina.”
“I can hardly imagine such a creature,” she said with a shudder.
“They were formidable, indeed,” he continued. “However, as strong as they were, they had a great deal of trouble in feeding their cubs, because whenever they were discovered by one of the silvery deer, the stags would begin to run. As they ran, the silvery streams of their antlers would spread the thick fog all about them, blinding the wolves.”
“What became of these wolves?” John asked.
“The story is not so much about the wolves as the stags, Sir John,” Merlin responded. “However, I can tell you that there are certain clans among the Picts, who, after the fae people came, have their ancestry in those wolves, but, as I said, that’s another story.”
The glance that Alpina tossed in his direction was the combination of a smile and a smirk, reminding him that she had told him that the Picts were not entirely of the world they inhabited.
“As the fae people and others began to populate the land, the silvery stags began to disappear,” Merlin continued. “There were among the fae those with the gift of being able to see through the mists and little by little, the silvery stags were taken. Their meat was sweet and their hides were worth a great deal in trade with the Norse, you see.
“But there was something more valuable than all of that, though only a very few truly understood it; wizards, witches, warlocks and the like. That valuable thing was a powder made by grinding the antlers on a unique stone that can only be found in the Cairngorms. With that powder, the bearer had only to spread it onto the wind and a thick fog would rise up. Thus, as I believe was mentioned before, the fogs that surrounded the Romans was intentionally placed there, a tactic used in battle.”
“What has that to do with your quest?” Thomas asked.
“The crux of the story, straight out, huh, Sir Thomas?” Merlin grinned. “There is a bag or purse, if you will, made of the hide of a silvery stag, where the last of this magic powder is kept. It is hidden in a cave, somewhere among those vast numbers scattered about the Cairngorms. The bag is known as the spleuchan of the Cairngorms. My quest is to recover the spleuchan and its contents and, Sir John, my suspicions tell me that where we find your father, we will also find the spleuchan.”
Chapter Eight
“Who goes there?” Jofrit called through the thick fog that had suddenly descended on the valley surrounding him. There was silence for a moment and then the sound of rustling he’d heard before came to his ears again. “Show yourself! I’m warning you. It would be better to pass in peace than be found in the treasonous act of attacking a knight of Arthur’s realm!”
Again there was silence but after a few more moments, the rustling returned and that was followed by noisy, heavy footsteps and the neighing of a few horses.
Sir Jofrit listened closely, trying to ascertain where the sounds were coming from. There was some echo in the valley which made that task difficult but he could still figure out the position of his enemies. Before any further words had been exchanged, Jofrit had deduced that he was completely surrounded.
“Looks like we have one of Arthur’s precious knights here, boys,” a voice said tauntingly. “I wonder what the Island Witch would say about a catch like this?”
“A catch?” Jofrit scoffed at the fog surrounding him. “How did you ever come to the conclusion that you’d caught me?”
Suddenly, a dozen rough-looking men stepped out of the thick fog to face Sir Jofrit. He looked around him and confirmed that his instinct had been indeed
“I can hardly imagine such a creature,” she said with a shudder.
“They were formidable, indeed,” he continued. “However, as strong as they were, they had a great deal of trouble in feeding their cubs, because whenever they were discovered by one of the silvery deer, the stags would begin to run. As they ran, the silvery streams of their antlers would spread the thick fog all about them, blinding the wolves.”
“What became of these wolves?” John asked.
“The story is not so much about the wolves as the stags, Sir John,” Merlin responded. “However, I can tell you that there are certain clans among the Picts, who, after the fae people came, have their ancestry in those wolves, but, as I said, that’s another story.”
The glance that Alpina tossed in his direction was the combination of a smile and a smirk, reminding him that she had told him that the Picts were not entirely of the world they inhabited.
“As the fae people and others began to populate the land, the silvery stags began to disappear,” Merlin continued. “There were among the fae those with the gift of being able to see through the mists and little by little, the silvery stags were taken. Their meat was sweet and their hides were worth a great deal in trade with the Norse, you see.
“But there was something more valuable than all of that, though only a very few truly understood it; wizards, witches, warlocks and the like. That valuable thing was a powder made by grinding the antlers on a unique stone that can only be found in the Cairngorms. With that powder, the bearer had only to spread it onto the wind and a thick fog would rise up. Thus, as I believe was mentioned before, the fogs that surrounded the Romans was intentionally placed there, a tactic used in battle.”
“What has that to do with your quest?” Thomas asked.
“The crux of the story, straight out, huh, Sir Thomas?” Merlin grinned. “There is a bag or purse, if you will, made of the hide of a silvery stag, where the last of this magic powder is kept. It is hidden in a cave, somewhere among those vast numbers scattered about the Cairngorms. The bag is known as the spleuchan of the Cairngorms. My quest is to recover the spleuchan and its contents and, Sir John, my suspicions tell me that where we find your father, we will also find the spleuchan.”
Chapter Eight
“Who goes there?” Jofrit called through the thick fog that had suddenly descended on the valley surrounding him. There was silence for a moment and then the sound of rustling he’d heard before came to his ears again. “Show yourself! I’m warning you. It would be better to pass in peace than be found in the treasonous act of attacking a knight of Arthur’s realm!”
Again there was silence but after a few more moments, the rustling returned and that was followed by noisy, heavy footsteps and the neighing of a few horses.
Sir Jofrit listened closely, trying to ascertain where the sounds were coming from. There was some echo in the valley which made that task difficult but he could still figure out the position of his enemies. Before any further words had been exchanged, Jofrit had deduced that he was completely surrounded.
“Looks like we have one of Arthur’s precious knights here, boys,” a voice said tauntingly. “I wonder what the Island Witch would say about a catch like this?”
“A catch?” Jofrit scoffed at the fog surrounding him. “How did you ever come to the conclusion that you’d caught me?”
Suddenly, a dozen rough-looking men stepped out of the thick fog to face Sir Jofrit. He looked around him and confirmed that his instinct had been indeed
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