Free The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II by Irene Radford Page A

Moncriith replied. “Our talent is a gift. But demons control Coronnan now, not mundanes. Demons led by Myrilandel.” Only magicians can root them out and turn the chaos that will follow into order. And I am the only magician who can see the problem.
    “Hanging around the army will only get you killed. Now take the food and seek more followers among those who aren’t dazzle-blinded by magicians and their tricks.”
    “Thank you again. And courage, Ackerly. One day our other talents will be appreciated more than our failure to be great magicians.”
    “Where are you headed? Maybe I can send more provisions later.”
    “Money will be appreciated. We need winter clothes and shelter, things that are not easily bargained for or given in hospitality.”
    Ackerly squirmed at the mention of money. Moncriith smiled inwardly. He’d found this man’s weakness.
    “We head east. The source of evil that corrupts Coronnan lies in that direction. I will root out demons and their minions where they are born. I have heard reports of dragons flying over the eastern edge of the Southern Mountains. When I have seen to their destruction, I will be back.”
    * * *
    Nimbulan raised his boots awkwardly out of the dirty water that always seemed to reside in the bottoms of boats. He and Quinnault de Tanos had just dumped the collection of rainwater out of the boat and set off on the final leg of their quick trip to the islands. Traveling downstream from the army camp with a swift current, they had been gone less than an hour. Walking, or riding fleet steeds would have compounded the time by four. Heavy, cloying mud clogged every track.
    He rested his feet on the rocking sides of the rowboat, out of the water. At least the rain had eased from last night. They’d only had to empty the boat twice since leaving camp.
    But debris from the storm moved down the river at the whim of nature, dark splotches of black-gray against the brownish gray river, beneath the yellow-gray of the misty sunrise. The dull light blurred outlines, magnifying the size of obstacles. Branches and tree trunks looked dangerous, even compensating for the distortions of light.
    Quinnault de Tanos stretched his back and arm muscles against the oars. “The current is swift today. We’ll reach the island soon, and you’ll be back in your tent by sunset.” He chuckled and continued to speed the craft toward the Great Bay, much too quickly for Nimbulan’s stomach.
    “I’ll feel safer if you steer away from that bobbing log.” Nimbulan pointed at a floating tree with many of its raggedly broken limbs pointing directly at their fragile hull. “We could have waited another day for better weather and calmer water for this visit to your islands,” he added.
    If they’d waited, Nimbulan would have had a chance to visit with the pretty little witchwoman. His mind lingered on his plans for training the girl rather than on the boat.
    “The sooner you start your experiments and gather recruits, the faster we can end the wars.” De Tanos grunted and put more effort into his rowing.
    “Who are you, Quinnault de Tanos? You are an enigma among your peers.”
    “I am the youngest son of a lord who never planned to accede to the title or the responsibilities of clan leadership. I had three brothers and two sisters. The wars and the plagues that follow battle took them all much too soon. Now I am the last of my immediate family. I can’t go back to the priesthood. My people depend on me as their lord. I want my sons and daughters, when I have the time to marry and beget them, to have the choice I was denied.”
    “Magicians rarely have children of their own. But I have apprentices. Those boys and girls come to me as children, between the ages of ten and twelve usually. I feel like I am as much a father to them as their blood parents. I want choices for them as well. I want them to be allowed to use magic for peace and prosperity.”
    “Then we are allies on the same quest.”