Read Online The Written by Ben Galley - Free Book Online Page B

can find
one.’
    Jergan laughed as heartily as
his starved frame would allow. ‘Hah! No one has uncovered one for
decades, so explain to me why I could know where to look.’
    ‘You obviously know that there
are some left in Emaneska, and creatures of your kind are drawn to
magick. You might have found one in your time with the Sirens, or
maybe as a lycan you know where one is,’ he said. Farden had a
dangerous look in his eye.
    ‘All I know is that there a
still a few left, maybe about two, or three, I don’t know.’ Jergan
held up his scarred palms in honesty.
    ‘But you don’t know where?’
    ‘We never found one. That was
one of the reasons we never managed to summon the beast from the
book.’ Jergan flopped his arms on his lap. A silence sat in the
room and Farden was deep in thought. ‘So whoever has stolen this
book intends to release this creature, but only by finding one of
these wells.’
    ‘And the only way of doing that
would be through the dragons of Nelska. In the memories of the old
dragon there may be a clue to where an old well may be,’ offered
Jergan.
    ‘Then I suppose I’ll be hunting
dragons next.’ Farden clenched his fists and rose. Jergan stood up
with him.
    ‘If you’re going to go then I
would ask one favour of you.’ The Siren asked in a pleading voice,
his violet eyes watching the mage adjust his belt and travel
pack.
    ‘What do you want? Farden
replied sharply as he sheathed his sword.
    ‘If you do come across any of
the dragons, then at least tell them that I’m alive, and not dead.
That’s all I ask,’ whined the man.
    Farden nodded, and went to the
door. The breeze was hard and cold, but sun was beginning to burn
away the drizzle and the blue skies had started to scatter the
clouds. Farden looked at the decrepit old man standing behind him.
‘Thank you Jergan, for your help. I understand you didn’t ask for
this, for the life of a lycan, and I hope that you survive it a
while longer.’
    Jergan tried to smile, as if it
was the kindest thing he had heard in decades. It probably was, he
thought. ‘Good luck…’ said the lycan, and the mage sighed. ‘Farden.
If you must know,’ he replied.
    ‘Then good luck Farden.’ And
with that the mage was gone, jogging across the hills back towards
Beinnh and the Arkabbey to the north. Jergan sat back down in his
little chair and looked around at his little hovel. The wind howled
through the crack in the door and rattled the walls. A little tear
ran down the lycan’s cheek.
     
    Hours later, night had once
again fallen upon the streets of Beinnh. Rowdy laughter rang out
from tavern doorways and wild yells fell from the top floor windows
of brothels. A light hammering rang through the alleyways,
unnoticed or ignored. The old blacksmith was still hard at work,
alone at his forge. The red glow of the fire illuminated his anvil
and sparks flew from his hammer as it beat down on a glowing spear
point. The thin old man was content, he had made a good profit on
these cheap iron spears, they had earned him a fine bit of gold
without too much trouble. The hammer sent another shower of sparks
into the cool night air that scattered over his salamander wool
gloves. The blacksmith pondered his next scam and started to
whistle, tuneless and croaky. Something moved in the shadows behind
the forge behind him. The hammer fell again and again like a beat
to his dissonant warbling, and something drew closer behind him.
Suddenly a hand grabbed the scruff of the old man’s neck and shoved
his forehead down hard onto the glowing spear point, making a
scalding hiss as it collided with the blacksmith’s skin.
    ‘Aagh!’ The old man cried out
and fell to the dusty floor. He rubbed at his skin and howled.
    ‘You lied to me,’ the dark
hooded figure spread out his fingers and a small lightning bolt
flickered over his palm, dancing in an electric blue glow. Farden
grabbed the smith by the wrist and covered his mouth roughly. The
old man squirmed