Start Reading The Messenger From Myris Dar

The blue water of the Eryos Ocean was pure and deep. A wind blew from the northwest. Northern winds were a rare occurrence but seemed fitting for their departure, bringing the faintest scent of the unknown continent they were to sail for. Rowan looked away from the surging swells that rolled under the dock and studied the rocky shore of the bay. The wind caught a few loose strands of her hair, tugging them free of her long braid. Her small party stood on the shore, going once more through last-minute packing and organizing She could hear their excited voices now and then. Their horses stood in a milling group beyond and Rowan made out the grey flashes of her big stallion. Her mother and brother had seen her off from the city earlier this morning, but she had not wanted them to come to the port, needed time to herself before she and the others embarked on the foreign ship. Her cousin Dell was off to the side, perched upon a huge boulder rooted in the churning surf. Like her, he needed to be alone for a last farewell to their island home. Most of their small party had said their goodbyes back in the city, except for Lesiana, inseparable from her husband until absolutely necessary. Rowan turned her back on the rising volcanic hills of the island to face the sparkling ocean again. After the banquet last night with its fanfare and revelry, the morning was quietly portentous. She flexed her hands into fists and relaxed, exhaling. The sense of the gravity of their mission would not leave her. Myrians were very supportive of sending aid to the mainland, even when they knew little of its people, but Rowan suspected that many of the islanders did not completely understand the nature of the mission they had voted to send to Eryos. She had woken long before dawn to sit, awaiting the soft glow of the rising sun as it filtered through the open fretwork of her room. She had been suddenly afraid she would never again see the sun rise over the land of Myris Dar. When she and Dell had spoken last with the Seers, they had been cautioned that their small party would face hardship in the distant lands but that strength of heart would succeed at times when strength of arms failed. In typical fashion, the Seers had given no details or further help beyond the vague, cryptic warning. Rowan shook her head and sighed, glancing to the side at the rising shoulders of the bay. The green of the spring grass had faded to the customary golden hues of summer. Only the olive trees and terraced gardens retained their verdant colour. Seabirds called from overhead, their long narrow wings suspending them on the strong wind, floating in place with only a ruffle of feathers to attest to the effort. Rowan watched wistfully as they spied fish and folded their wings to plummet headfirst into the sea. The smooth round head of a cellion popped up above the rolling surface, its liquid brown eyes regarding Rowan with curiosity before it slid beneath the waves, oscillating one of its flippers as if in farewell. She reached up and adjusted the baldric that carried her sword strapped to her back and caught sight of the intricately tooled leather of the new vambraces her brother Andin had given her last night. She smiled. He had made them for her himself and been so proud to see her wearing them this morning. Rowan looked to the edge of the bay as movement caught her eye. Three ships hove into view around the tip of the headland. They were making good time in the strong wind. The two smaller, sleeker ships were Myrian, their narrow prows slicing through the waves with precision. The larger ship was foreign. Flying many-coloured pinions, its square sails were filled with the breeze, and its wide beam sat low in the swells. It was flanked by the two Myrian ships—escorts to shadow it into the bay. A merchant ship from beyond the Land of Eryos had been easy to acquire passage upon. The Westerners from beyond Eryos and the high mountain barrier that separated it from the rest of the continent were staunch seafarers who explored the waters of the known world to its limits. They brought spice and copper and extraordinary woven goods to the few active ports in Eryos and in turn filled their holds with the rare blue-glazed Stoneman pottery, bales of wool, and other trade goods. Myris Dar was a frequent stop along their trade routes, though it was rare for the merchant ships to be granted permission to land. They were usually met out at sea by the Myrian patrol ships that could easily outrun the larger, more cumbersome vessels to prevent a daring captain from getting through to land ashore. Many battles had been fought several leagues offshore to keep pirates from sailing off with a ship hold’s worth of Myrian plunder. Rowan could just make out the distant forms of sailors as they scurried over the decks to reef in the multitude of canvas sheets. She had fought and killed men like these who had broken through the Myrian patrol ships to land on Myris Dar. There was often little difference between merchants and pirates, and she had battled alongside other Myrians to keep their island sovereign and safe from such raiders. The island of Myris Dar was almost completely forgotten by the people of Eryos, who had not plied the deep oceans to the south of the mainland for centuries. Even if they had heard of the island from western traders, they would be incapable of reaching Myris Dar in their small fishing boats and sloops. The kingdoms of Eryos had not been able to look beyond their own borders to the wider world ever since the two vast empires that flourished hundreds of years ago had crumbled, leaving only scattered tribes and a chaotic quest for power. From the little she knew of Eryos, it was only just beginning to rise above the age of darkness and turmoil that had swallowed it after the fall of the twin empires. Now she and her companions were about to journey into the heart of that struggling, unsettled land, with little idea of what they would have to do to fulfill their mission once they arrived. Rowan looked critically at the large ship as it came about and began to head toward the small port. It had been given permission to land only long enough to accept its cargo, and then it was to sail out on the same tide that brought it in. The ship’s high deck had a convex camber to it, and the hull’s wooden planks were smooth and free of barnacles. The three masts rising from the centre line of the deck were thick and tapered gracefully to the tops. The middle mast ended in a high crow’s nest with a sailor posted there for lookout. There would be more than enough room for the small party of warriors, their horses, and the gear they would need for the weeks-long journey across the Eryos Ocean to the mainland port city of Dendor in Lor Danith. From there Rowan and her party would head into the unknown in search of a city built on high sea cliffs. Rowan’s gaze slid past the large ship to the sky and ocean beyond in the northwest. Dark thunderclouds were gathering on the horizon in deep greys and purples. She saw a brief flash of lightning before distant thunder rolled across the swelling waves toward her. Myris Dar experienced little rain during the hot, dry summer. She wondered whether the Seers would note the approaching storm as a sign of things to come. She looked again at the ship. It would not be long before it pulled up beside the pier. Rowan turned away from it and the ocean and walked across the heavy wooden planks toward her companions. There was much work to be done yet before they set sail for Eryos.