Drakenfeld Read Online Free

the cool breeze was a pleasant relief. The air was not as
humid here, and the place seemed far gentler than I was used to.
    I had stood at this same vantage point ten years ago. Like most young and optimistic people, I’d left with every intention of putting some distance between my father and myself, as well as
making my mark on the world. At least I could say I had achieved something.
    ‘It seems so unfortunate,’ I said eventually, ‘to be confronted with such a glorious sight, when I should feel only sorrow.’
    Leana said nothing as she slid with skill off her horse, again making apparently athletic movements seem so effortless. She reached into her pack for a flask of water. Garbed in a similar
fashion to myself, white shirt, brown leather doublet and heavy boots, she wore her dark hair tied back as if always being ready for combat, and regarded me with one of her unreadable
expressions.
    Perhaps that’s why I found her the perfect travelling companion: we kept our wandering thoughts largely to ourselves. She took heavy gulps of water before offering the flask to me, but I
declined.
    ‘Lucan,’ she said. ‘Why have you not noticed the man following? Half a mile back down the slope?’
    I glanced back down, following the line of the straight road along the yellow grassland until – some way in the distance – a figure on horseback came into focus. ‘It’s a
road, like any other. He’s free to pass through.’
    ‘But you said this route was not frequently used, yet he has kept pace with us since our landing. He does not catch up or fall back. He remains the same distance.’
    ‘You’re right, I should have spotted this,’ I said.
    ‘Spirits save us,’ Leana added, but made no further comment about my lapse of judgement.
    ‘We’re in no hurry. We’ve made good time so far. Let’s hang back and let him pass. I’ve some bread in the bag, and some fruit – we should eat.’
    ‘And when he arrives here?’ Leana asked.
    ‘He could be an innocent trader.’
    Leana drew her sword.
    ‘He could simply be a traveller,’ I continued, ‘like us. Not everyone is out to attack us. Just because we represent the Sun Chamber does not mean we can draw blood for no
reason at all. We are not barbarians.’
    We ate quickly, and waited behind a wind-smoothed stone outcrop as the figure came closer. Now that he could not see us, he gained pace considerably. It made no sense that someone would be after
us – who in Detrata knew of our arrival?
    A few moments later and the ground began to vibrate under the horse’s hooves. I stepped out into the road casually while Leana remained waiting by the side with her bow, covering me. He
carried a sheathed weapon and wore a scarf around his mouth, but struggled to control his startled horse. Unnerved at my sudden appearance, the horse bolted towards the horizon, hooves thumping
into the sun-baked earth. His dust trails lingered in the air.
    ‘It is possible he was sent after us, but . . .’
    ‘Someone in Detrata does not like you much,’ Leana declared.
    ‘Or it could simply be nothing to worry about. Let’s not allow paranoia to plague my return home.’
    ‘You are far too trusting of people,’ Leana replied. ‘I have always said this is a problem.’
    Aqueducts trailed like stone tendrils down from the mountains towards Tryum, the main city of Detrata – it was these structures that enabled life to persist. Tryum did
not suffer from the humidity of Venyn City. Here the heat was drier, more pleasant, and the air was not laced with particles of sand.
    But where there is life there is death, and we soon came across one of the peculiarities of Tryum, the Road of the Dead, a main causeway into the city lined with mausoleums. Flying from the
ramparts of these buildings were the yellow banners of Detrata. The centre of each one featured a two-headed black falcon, along with the cross of the founding gods set within the avian’s
breast. On each head was a