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Letters from the Heart, Act II

Lucien had been a little taken aback when Draconis had taken him aside into a private room. The king seemed agitated. Worried, even. He watched as the taller man paced about the room, his brows furrowed together and his hands clasped tight behind his back. He paused and turned to face him.

"We have received reports from S'ran about a cult up in the mountains bordering Renwold." When Lucien gave him a confused look, Draconis continued. "A cult of Omnicron," he explained.

"But, he was-" Lucien began. He stopped as soon as Draconis raised a hand.

"Cast out, I know. Apparently, these people still worship him. Quite fervently, I might add. They have been plaguing villages in the area. All of the troops we have sent in haven't returned and all contact with them lost. We believe that they may be led by a man with some military experience. The attacks are executed with precisions and appear to be well planned. This is of some concern to us."

"And you want me to go in," Lucien finished. "Why?"

"Because you are the best," Draconis answered simply.

"Those troops you sent in, they were not troops, were they?"

Draconis shook his head. "No. Calvary."

"What makes you think that I will succeed where others have failed?"

"You, my friend, are my herald, and as such you shall live so long as I do. That was the agreement we made. That is what is stated in your contract."

Lucien snorted. "Hardly an advantage, this immortality you have granted me."

Draconis cleared his throat. "Let me finish. Your skills with weaponry and combat far excels most of my troops. What I want you to do is investigate and eradicate the threat if need be. We do not need a cult dedicated to Omnicron gaining power here in the princedoms."

"Who are you sending me as?"

"I am sending you as my herald."

"You are sending me out as your herald? To take care of some cult of an outcast god? It hardly seems worth my time, your Majesty." Lucien strived to keep the resentment out of his voice. Taking care of a measly little cult was hardly a challenge for him.

"May I remind you that several cavalries sent out to stop this cult have already failed," Draconis replied in even tones. "These cultists are far stronger than we have given them credit for. They must be getting money, supplies and the like from somewhere or someone. Something more than 'some cult' gaining power and terrorizing the countryside is going on here. An outcast god does not acquire so much support so quickly without reason."

"So, your orders are to have me go into the mountains of S'ran near Renwold and investigate this matter?"

Draconis nodded. "That is my wish, yes."

Lucien frowned and turned his gaze away. "Your gut instinct about matters such as these have never proved wrong before. If you feel that my presence is needed and that this is much worse than it seems, than I shall go."

"Thank you, Lucien."

Lucien bowed low. "I serve and obey."

"You will be leaving as soon as possible."

"Of course. Ah, your Majesty? I had hired workers to pack my things and left a messenger there to ensure that they did. The same messenger that you had sent out. I would like to make sure that my things arrive home..."

"I shall make sure that any remaining personal affairs be taken care of," Draconis assured him.

Lucien nodded, then a sudden thought occurred to him. "Your Majesty, how long will I be gone?"

"I don't know. Anything could happen. Send word when you can to keep us posted."

"I shall," Lucien said with a nod. With a final bow to Draconis he left the room.

***

What he wanted right now, at that exact moment, was a hot cup of tea, a roaring fire in the fireplace, and a nice, warm bath. Unfortunately, none of these were available. Not a single one. No matter how hard he prayed or how many villages and towns he visited he always had to settle for a compromise. Once, just once, he would like to get all three.

The harsh climate of the southern mountains of S'ran were brutal. Ice and snow everywhere. It was just his luck that he would be sent out during the winter time. The weather had slowed him down quite a bit and a pierce snow storm had him holed up in a tiny village for a week.

His delay hadn't been a total waste. It provided him time to listen to the rumors and stories about the cult and its mad leader. No one was sure whether the leader was man or woman, human or animal, brilliant or insane, but there was one thing that all of the stories seemed to agree upon: the leader was someone to be reckoned with.

Lucien began to reconsider what he told Draconis. Perhaps this wasn't a waste of his time. Something did seem terribly wrong. Especially now that he had heard stories about the cult's leader. Draconis was right. Things here were far more serious than they looked.

He was convinced now that Draconis was clairvoyant. The king had even predicted that Lucien would be serving him for quite some time and he had been right. Five years in the king's service and counting. Perhaps Draconis did the right thing in sending him out.

Lucien looked down at the map in his gloved hand. All he could think about was how cold he was. The images and words didn't register at first as he stared down at the parchment. He needed to get somewhere warm. And fast. This cold was beginning to affect his mind. He couldn't think straight.

He stared down at the map again and concentrated as hard as he could. The next village was close by if he was reading the map correctly. He hoped he was. He tucked the map away in an inner pocket of his cloak and hunched down in his saddle.

A gentle snow was drifting down and settled itself where it fell, chilling the body. It was so cold. The chill in the air seeped through his clothes and into his body. Everything felt stiff. He so desperately wanted to sleep. Then perhaps this creeping numbness would go away.

Lucien's eyes began to droop slowly. He was so tired. He would just rest his eyes for a moment. Let Hastor guide them. He trusted Hastor. He was a good horse. Just for a moment... He didn't even notice when he slipped off his horse and into the snow.

 

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