Page 60 of Destiny of a King

Dravic followed, Adira secure against him, his attention fixed on the land around them.

He searched for something. Anything. Any sign that this place was different. Any reminder of the danger his grandfather had spoken of.

But there was nothing.

The snow-covered hills were beautiful. The trees stood tall and ancient. The air was crisp and clean. It looked no different from any other forest in Scotara.

Dravic almost found that more unsettling.

What had he expected? Darkness creeping between the trees? Some visible mark that declared this was the forbidden land his grandfather had warned him never to enter?

His grandfather had spoken of Driochmor as a place of danger and hidden power, yet nothing before him matched those warnings.

Somewhere ahead was the man who might hold the answers to questions that had recently came to light. Questions he needed answered, though he was concerned about what answers he may find.

But did he trust the man his grandfather claimed had betrayed him? A man who should have been dead.

Dravic’s grip tightened slightly around the reins.

The path narrowed as they continued deeper into the forest, winding between towering trees whose branches stretched overhead like ancient guardians. Hollis led them without hesitation, though more than once he glanced back toward the king and his guards as if still unable to believe who followed behind him.

It was not long before the trees began to thin.

Beyond them, tucked between snow-covered hills, lay a small village. Smoke curled from chimneys, rising lazily into the cold air. Stone cottages stood close together, their roofs heavy with snow, and a few villagers moved between them carrying baskets and bundles of wood.

The moment they spotted the riders approaching, movement slowed, and then stopped.

The villagers gathered quietly, their curiosity growing as they studied the strangers who had entered their home.

Dravic knew they had no idea who he was, but they knew enough to understand the man seated upon the powerful black stallion was someone of importance. His finely made garments, the sword at his side, and the guards who surrounded him spoke clearly of rank and authority.

A man stepped forward from the crowd.

He was not old, though the responsibility he carried showed in the steadiness of his gaze and his manner held the confidence of someone accustomed to making decisions for those who depended on him.

“Welcome to Purrock. I am Vachel, leader of this village.” His gaze shifted to the man who had led them there. “Hollis. It is good to see you.”

The old man nodded and smiled. “I always enjoy visiting, Vachel.”

Dravic took note of the familiarity that passed between them. Hollis was no stranger here. He seemed almost to belong here.

“You have brought a friend?” Vachel asked.

One could barely detect that Hollis shook his head, but Adira did and she gripped Dravic’s arm at her waist.

Dravic felt the slight tightening of her grip and understood that something had disturbed her. He immediately became even more alert than he already was.

Hollis took a breath and announced, “I have brought the King of Scotara. He wishes to speak with Ernach.”

Surprisingly, not a shocking gasp was heard, nor whispers sounded. The crowd went utterly silent.

“I am sure Ernach will speak with you,” Vachel said.

Dravic’s brow narrowed. “Ernach will speak with me because I command it.”

Vachel held his gaze. “He will speak with you because he chooses to.”

A slight tightening formed at the corner of Dravic’s mouth. “I am king and rule all of Scotara, its people and the land.”