The White Lady

By Nic Weissman

A new adventure is about to begin. Our heroes will embark in a quest to recover The Eye that Sees it All, a powerful scrying magic artifact. To achieve their goals they will need to travel from the Bor to Darphem, the kingdom of Dwarves. In their trip, they will fight many battles, make new friends and foes and visit other fantastic places like Ellis, the country of elves.
Following the successful formula already used in The Orb of Wrath this sequel combines multiple elements: first and foremost, epic fantasy adventure; but also political plots, interviewed stories, a touch of humor, a pinch of drama and even a love story.
Follow Erion and his friends and explore more of the vast World of Oris.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nic Weissman
• Release date: Dec 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310418730

Nic Weissman

Nic Weissman is a Best-Seller and a fast growing name in Fantasy fiction landscape. Nic is the creator of the saga The Merchant's Destiny and The World of Oris. Nic was born in 1974 in mystical place where the sea ends.His first novel The Orb of Wrath and its sequel The White Lady are now available through multiple channels both in ebook and paperback, both in English and Spanish. The books have been already acclaimed by multiple authors and bloggers like Jordan Elizabeth, Peg Glover in Write-Escape and Tome Tender.Over the past 16 years, Nic has lived in 14 different addresses across 3 different continents. He has traveled to 30 countries and speaks 4 languages. As you can imagine, Nic loves travelling.You can follow Nic through his web nicweissman.com or Social Media channels like Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Slideshare.net and Linkedin among others. Nic writes under a pen name for professional reasons.__________________________________________________________Nic Weissman es un Best-Seller y un nombre de rápido crecimiento en el campo de la Ficción Fantástica. Nic es el creador de la saga El Destino del Mercader y el Mundo de Oris. Nic nació en 1974 en lugar místico donde termina el mar.Su primera novela El Orbe de la Ira y su secuela La Dama Blanca ya están disponibles a través de múltiples canales, tanto en libro electrónico como en paperback, en Inglés y en Español, y está recibiendo excelentes comentarios. Los libros han sido aclamados por múltiples bloggers y autores como Jordan Elizabeth, Peg Glover de Write-Escape y Tome Tender.Durante los últimos dieciséis años, Nic ha vivido en catorce direcciones en tres continentes diferentes. Ha viajado a treinta países y habla cuatro idiomas. Como te puedes imaginar, a Nic le encanta viajar.Puedes seguir Nic a través su web nicweissman.com o de medios sociales como Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Linkedin y Slideshare.net entre otros. Nic escribe bajo seudónimo por motivos profesionales.

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THE WHITE LADY

NIC WEISSMAN

Selected acclaim for Nic Weissman

Nic Weissman has proven himself to be a gifted storyteller with a vivid imagination and world-building skills.

Author Peg Glover. Blog Write-Escape

Follow the words of Nic Weissman as he builds wonderful scenes, interesting characters and a story of true adventure in another world.

Blog Tome Tender

Download Nic Weissman's books now

The White Lady: © 2015 by Nic Weissman

Cover Design: Nic Weissman

First Edition: © November 2015, Nic Weissman

Cover Image: © olbor62 used under license from Shutterstock.com

Page divider ‘divider"29115_640.png’ is public domain (CC0) and was obtained at pixabay.com.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the written permission of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

To my kids

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The White Lady

Chapter 1: Meeting at the Lost Valley

Chapter 2: The Hawks of the Great Plateau

Chapter 3: Making plans

Chapter 4: Conspiracy

Chapter 5: Trading in the capital

Chapter 6: The rookie

Chapter 7: The Count of Terentias

Chapter 8: The horse ranch

Chapter 9: The Trial

Chapter 10: Alternatives and decisions

Chapter 11: The White Lady

Chapter 12: In Dwarf Territory

Chapter 13: The Border City

Chapter 14: The Vikings

Chapter 15: At the Gates of the Ancient Kingdom

Chapter 16: The Final Fight

Chapter 17: The Eye

Epilogue

Appendix

About the author

Discover other books

Connect with Nic

THE WHITE LADY

CHAPTER 1: MEETING AT THE LOST VALLEY

He was alone, just like he preferred. The thin young man walked peacefully at the end of the afternoon. His frail figure moved slowly along the path that led to the hill. His head, completely shaved, gleamed in the sun. His conventional tunic was reasonably comfortable for autumn temperatures in the Kingdom of Bor. He had been walking for a while after leaving his horse at the inn, which was located at a nearby crossroads. He had to walk during the last part of his brief trip. It would have been a real problem to bring his horse to the site where the meeting would take place.

The young man could see the path to the hill up ahead. Their meeting point was in a narrow, steep-sided valley that was right behind that headland. He was about to reach the path that began to skirt the hill when three masked men appeared suddenly, cutting him off: two in front and one behind.

Oh, what a shame! Look, he's lost, said the tallest of the hoodlums.

Yes, but there's no problem; we can help you, boy, laughed the second.

You only have to pay a small fee, added the tall one, chuckling. Go on, give us everything you have, he ordered.

The young man stood still and silent, watching the men before him. He didn't say anything. He didn't move a finger and didn't even try. Suddenly, something amazing began to happen. The two ruffians in the front drew daggers and turned around, standing opposite each other, and decisively began to attack.

What are you doing? said the tall one, while dodging the onslaught of his partner.

I don't know, I can't help it, replied the other. And what are you doing? You almost cut my arm! he added, avoiding the dagger by fingers.

The fight was heating up with increasingly decisive lunges by both sides, while the ruffians seemed incredulous and surprised at what was happening. Gradually, those looks of surprise gave way to looks of pure hatred.

You're gonna die! shouted one of them as he reached the left shoulder of his opponent with his dagger; it began to bleed profusely.

For Oris’ sake, stop! What's this all about? said the third robber, powerless, not understanding what was happening.

His companions didn't answer; they didn't even seem to hear him. The tall man pulled away to avoid a couple of attacks and launched a direct stab to the neck of his opponent, severing a major artery. The thief put his hand to his neck, doing his best to compress the wound, but he had enough experience to realize he was doomed. He still had some time, however. The wounded thug lunged, leaping and spreading his arms over the tall thief who was surprised by the action and tried to avoid him. Unfortunately for him, he was already on top of him. The men struggled while the wounded one bled badly. Then the rascal managed to get away and dug his dagger into his partner's chest, reaching an artery that led straight to the heart. They both fell to their knees. Their injuries were too serious and fatal to even allow them to continue on foot. The two men looked at each other again in disbelief and then dropped dead almost simultaneously.

The young traveler turned around immediately to face the third bandit, who looked completely stunned, overwhelmed by the incredible scene he had just witnessed. His eyes began to lose their brightness and expression. The thief seemed to be staring into space. He pulled out a long knife from his belt, gripped it and slowly moved it to his neck, resting it on his jugular. Pausing for a moment, he began to slowly slide the knife, which penetrated and tore his tissue. The wound was also mortal, and the ruffian fell shortly after.

The bald young man stared intently the dying man. With a gesture of cruel satisfaction, he continued his trek, dodging the body lying at his feet. Hastily, he entered the road that bordered the hill.

Crugar, which was the young man's name, recalled a time, not too long ago, when something like that would have terrified him. He had learned a lot since then. For no apparent reason, his mind wandered a little further back in time and he remembered when he was ten. He lived in a horrible place: an orphanage. He arrived there when he was only nine years old, when his mother threw him out of the house so she wouldn't have to provide for him. Scum, rot in the street! he had heard her say on various occasions.

At the orphanage, the other children came from the worst areas. Some were real thugs. Shortly after arriving they gave him a hard time and he had to scramble fast to survive. However, the other children were not the worst of it. His supposed caretakers often beat them with the slightest excuse. Crugar now understood that they enjoyed it. One of them even abused the other children, especially the younger ones. He was lucky to avoid him for a while, but in the end, like everyone, his turn was up.

A few months later he had had a chance to take revenge. That undesirable would make a small cart trip in which he would transport a dozen older boys who would be transferred elsewhere. Many of them were some real bastards. No one would miss them.

The boy looked pleased as, one by one, the older boys got into the car, while the caregiver slapped them all on the neck. Then the man sat in the front and took the reins to head off. The orphanage was on top of a hill, and it was accessed by a steep and narrow path that wound down the hillside. It was a fairly steep terrain. Nobody noticed when little Crugar came and loosened the screws that held the wagon to the reins of the two horses, one by one.

The cart began its journey. Crugar's heart was pounding fast as he watched excitedly. The car took the first turn without a problem. The inclination of the slope increased below. In the second turn, a large crack indicated that something was not right. Before anyone could react, the cart was loosened from the reins and began to take off at high speed, running off the road. No one could stop it. Within seconds it was tumbling down the slope, exploding into a thousand pieces when it got to the valley. Nobody survived.

The caregivers forced a large group of boys to go down the hill to clear the site of the accident and dig graves for the dead. Crugar wouldn't avoid being visible among the group of orphans this time, as he always tried to do, when the men from the orphanage came to recruit the 'volunteers.' He needed to see with his own eyes that the bastard caretaker had not survived. It was an afternoon of hard work, but for Crugar, the effort was worth it.

His existence in the orphanage continued to be a tough battle for survival. At least the worst form of abuse stopped. Not so much for the beatings and the hunger; this remained frequent. The boy became a young man and eventually his character toughened up. Any hope that good people existed elsewhere was lost. The world was a cruel place where only the strongest could survive. But Crugar wasn't, or so he thought then.

He felt the sensation for the first time when he was about twelve. If he really concentrated, he could influence the actions of those around him. Not all of them were equally easy, although most of them ended up doing what he wanted, more or less. Over time his skills improved, and he could get others to even do things that they disliked. However, Crugar knew that he shouldn't overdo it. He must be careful. It was essential that nobody discover his skills or he would be otherwise doomed.

So he had to wait patiently for his fourteenth birthday, minimum age at which the strongest and most mature boys were released to return to the world. Although he was not in that category, nobody was greatly surprised when they heard his name on a Sunday; he was able to leave the orphanage. Previously, he had properly coerced the Master Caretaker, who was in charge of that place. That was a day he remembered fondly.

Wrapped in these thoughts, he had advanced briskly for a half hour and had finally reached the entrance of the hidden valley. Not long after, he reached the meeting point at the appointed time, when the sun was setting. He waited.

The dim light that remained in the gorge disappeared. He looked up at the sky and saw an enormous winged figure that quickly descended on the clearing. It was a huge black dragon. Its scales, harder than steel, blacker than coal, covered its entire body like the plate armor of a warrior. The dragon's dimensions were colossal. It was probably more than twenty steps long and its head rose above the ground no less than nine steps. The dragon's huge eyes and terrible gaze were fixed on the young man.

Crugar, the dragon finally said.

Venerable Azuharr, said the young man, bowing.

I have a mission for you.

I hear you.

You must set off immediately and act quickly. I've heard news of The Eye. It seems that it's in Darphem, probably in the city of Nuberg under the Deuteron ridge, explained the dragon.

The Eye was absolutely mythical. It was considered the most powerful divination and scrying object that still existed in the world. There were others, in ancient times, like the Tears of Oris of the First Age, which were even more powerful, but they seemed to have been irretrievably lost in time. Crugar felt a twinge of pride. It was a great achievement to have reached a level of power and prestige that made him worthy of a mission like this for the great Azuharr.

It will be an honor to serve you, as always, said the young man, bowing his head.

From the way I acquired the information, we must assume that our enemies also know it and that they probably have set off as well. You must head to your destination as fast as possible, said the dragon, in a powerful voice that echoed through the valley walls.

Yes. I'll set off right away, said the young man.

I understand you don't need me to tell you what's at stake. If we find The Eye, we will have the absolute advantage. But if it falls into the hands of our rivals, they will have the advantage, although not as absolute, reasoned the dragon. Now, head off!

Crugar, the mentalist, made a final bow, turned around and disappeared down the path that emerged from the hidden valley.

*******

The dragon watched closely as the young man set off, trying to contain his temper. Azuharr turned around to one of the sides of the valley, breathed deeply and with all the strength of his gigantic lungs, exhaled. The dragon's breath exited rapidly, mixed with highly corrosive acid. In just a moment, where before there were rocks and trees, now only a strange steaming puddle remained.

Somehow, breathing out was always soothing to Azuharr; it helped him calm down. This time it didn't work. The wrath of the beast had no end. The plans had not gone as expected. The war never started. The ridiculous humans hadn't perished in large numbers as he had wished. And worst of all: in the absence of a war scenario he wouldn't be able to force Tazar to come out of hiding, considering that he really was in Bor.

Moreover, what had happened wasn't normal. After carefully planning everything, the plan had collapsed under their noses. It was as if his rivals had been one step ahead of him all this time. It was as if... as if someone powerful had helped them. Even if this hypothesis were true, he couldn't be sure who had done it. He had to focus on this aspect. If the benefactor turned out to be a wise man with great wealth or a bored Magic Master, then he'd know that Bor wasn't the kingdom where Tazar was hiding. At the moment, he shouldn't dismiss this.

Tazar likely had the same information. He had to get ahead. That's why he had to turn to Crugar, one of his most trusted servants. And he would not be alone; others would join him to help.

The gigantic monster took advantage of the darkness to take flight. Spending time in the cave where he kept his enormous treasure was always comforting. He recalled the glorious day, more than a millennium ago, when he killed that silver wyrm with his father and forced her son to flee, the teenage Tazar. Azuharr followed to try to stop him, but he was very tired after the fierce battle and the young dragon escaped. However, he seized the cave and its enormous treasures.

Azuharr spent the next centuries accumulating more riches and seeking the elusive silver dragon, to no avail. Now he sensed that the moment of truth was approaching: the moment when he was to finish the work he had begun with his father long ago.

While he was flying high, hiding in the shadows of the night, the evil dragon remembered other episodes of his youth. Once he went to the territories of the rich Aurum Emirates. There he attacked one of its most remote cities, in the vicinity of the End of the World Mountains. For three days and three nights, he destroyed, crushed, burned and killed without mercy and with genuine delight. Then he spoke to the survivors in a terrible voice and warned them of his return the next day. He ordered that the Emir placed his greatest riches in two carts at the entrance of the city if they didn't all want to die. Then he retired.

He rested peacefully on a cliff on top of the ridge and returned the next day. Upon reaching the entrance of the city, as he had ordered, two carts loaded to the brim with gold, precious stones, art objects and jewelry were waiting for him. He would have liked to find even more, but that was all he would be able to transport in one trip. The distance to his lair in the Metallic Mounts was too far to do more than once.

Azuharr noticed the wall. There were many soldiers on top of it who watched him while trying to contain their panic. From where he was located, he was beyond the reach of the bows. However, if he attacked the city, it would be more complicated than in the previous days. Among the men at the top of the wall, he saw a party trying to pass unnoticed. But his keen and trained eye didn't miss a thing. In the center of this group was the Emir himself, dressed as a conventional soldier.

The dragon flew up, staying still in the air just above the ground, and placed himself in front of the section where the Emir was located.

Nice soldier clothes, but you don't fool me, said the beast in a thunderous voice.

Half a dozen soldiers near the Emir moved quickly to surround him completely. They were his bodyguards.

I ordered you to place your greatest wealth in the carts!

Oh, great dragon! It's all there; all of the most valuable jewels, said one of the men close to the Emir, possibly an assistant or some other kind of official.

There's one missing: the most valuable of them all, said the dragon wickedly. Where is the daughter of the Emir? Hand her over now!

Nooooo! cried the Emir disconsolately. Shoot! Shoot! he added, addressing his soldiers.

A rain of arrows flew towards the black dragon, who didn't even have to try to dodge them, as only two or three hit him and bounced uselessly against his hard scales. Azuharr responded by spitting his terrible acid breath against a section of the wall near the area where the Emir was. The soldiers were consumed under the fetid cloud with terrible screams. The same stone of the wall cracked and broke off in millions of tiny pebbles. A couple of hundred men had died with a single gesture of the beast.

Azuharr said nothing, but turned his terrible eyes towards the Emir and stared for a while. The Emir understood: if he didn't hand him his daughter, they would all die. He had no choice. Perhaps the dragon wanted her to keep him company. The fact that some dragons fell in love with human maidens was not unknown. Perhaps his daughter would be fine.

With a gesture of terrible grief, the Emir ordered the soldiers to comply with the dragon's orders. A while later, two of his men carried his daughter. They took her out of the city through the main gate and headed to the place where the carts were located. The girl was very young, maybe sixteen, and was crying inconsolably. The Emir felt his heart wrenching; he could not contemplate that scene.

The men placed her on the first cart and ran away. Azuharr took her with one of his claws immediately, preventing any escape attempt. She was a beautiful and delicate desert flower; for some, the most beautiful among the nobility of the Emirates. The monster then turned back to the Emir.

Now everything is there, he said in his terrible voice.

The dragon slowly began to squeeze his paw. The girl began to scream in terrible pain, as her bones began to explode one by one. The Emir was crying desperately. Luckily, she did not last long. Seconds later, she lay dead in the grip of the beast.

Azuharr dropped the corpse on the ground, took the two heavy carts and flew back, laughing out loud. He wanted to make sure that everyone there could see the mangled body of the girl. They would never forget this encounter with the black dragon.

Those who know this story in the Emirates say that the dragon's laughter was the most terrible that was ever heard, and that in the midst of a desert storm, his vile laugh could sometimes still be heard. Azuharr's cruelty became legend in Aurum and even today his name is spoken with terror in those lands.

Azuharr had reached his destination, thoughtful. The next chapter of this story was about to begin and he would be there to write it.

CHAPTER 2: THE HAWKS OF THE GREAT PLATEAU

Erion walked to the lake as he took his canteen out of his pack. It was a good opportunity to refill it. His horse was grazing about thirty steps from him. Upon reaching the shore, the young man began to bend over, when suddenly, a figure emerged before him. It was a gigantic snake that had been hiding in the bottom of the lake. Its head was about the size of a man and although it was impossible to know its size accurately, it was more than twenty steps long.

Erion stumbled while walking backwards, trying to recover from the nasty surprise. The snake bore its jaws and launched to attack. The young man managed to avoid being gobbled up by tumbling to the side at the last moment, in a natural reflex reaction. He stood up then and, without looking back for a moment, began to run amongst the forest’s trees. It didn't take long for the snake to compose itself, because he could hear the whip of its sharp tongue behind him. It was very fast and he wouldn't be able to avoid it for long. He had to do something; and fast.

His horse was now out of reach as the monster stood between him and his steed. Erion saw a narrow ridge to his left. In desperation, he rushed towards it. The steep gorge was full of rocks which made it difficult to run quickly. The young man hoped that this inconvenience would delay the snake, given its size, more than him. Erion ran, jumped and dodged all the rocks as fast as he could as he crossed the ridge, but he still felt the breath of the great reptile behind him. The gorge rose in a steep slope that curled over the rugged terrain. The young man was panting more and more as he ran. He was coming close to reaching an elevated terrain.

He finally reached the top of that rock formation over the valley. The only way out was the gorge he had just climbed. As he turned, he saw that the snake was very close and had slowed its pace. It looked at him with its evil eyes, knowing that Erion had no way out.

*******

The rooster was crowing for about ten minutes from the corral outside the Old Mansion. The morning light filtered through the edges of the window, although Erion had covered it as best as he could with a thick curtain. They had arrived exhausted two nights before from their adventures in the Kingdom of Tylar and were still recovering. That had been Thost's recommendation to them all as well: Rest all you can tonight. You're going to need your strength.

Erion then remembered the dream he had just had. It had been really awful. If it was true that those kinds of dreams were premonitory, he should somehow prepare himself for a situation like that.

Finally, the rooster had stopped crowing, but Erion failed to fall asleep again. It had been a whirlwind of many tensions and emotions in a few days; and that afternoon they would have to set off again for their next adventure. After turning a few times in bed, he decided to get up. Mithir's bed was empty. His brother had risen early, but he didn't know exactly when. He dressed and went to the kitchen.

Samar was eating something light. With a gesture, she indicated to him to sit beside her. The day was starting well.

There's bread, butter and milk, said the elf.

Erion helped himself and began to eat while trying to clear his head. The house remained almost totally silent.

Mithir got up early. Have you seen him? Or the others? asked the young man.

Your brother was just leaving when I came down for breakfast. I don't know where he was going. Ronu went with him, explained Samar.

Ronu? She should be resting! Why did you allow it? Erion was surprised.

She was determined to go out and get some fresh air anyway. She seems to be an early riser. Mithir and I thought that, since she was going to leave anyway, at least it was good that someone was with her. It also seemed that your brother needed some help. I'm not sure what for, explained the archer.

I hope they don't get into trouble, Erion said.

I don't think they will. They said they wouldn't return until the afternoon, added the elf.

Dreshpho burst into the kitchen while adjusting her smock.

Good morning! What are you doing up? I thought you'd sleep till late and I'd be the first person in the kitchen. But what are you eating, kids? That won't fill you. Let me fix you something, said the cook as she bore down on the cooking pots and put on a frying pan.

Don't worry. We're fine. We had already finished anyway, Erion said.

Dreshpho glared at the young man, making him feel self-conscious. The woman then took two jars from the pantry and a large loaf of day-old bread and placed it in the middle of the table.

Honey and redcurrant jam, Samar said. My favorite. I think I'll have a little more to eat, she added.

The truth is that it smells good, Erion said, sincere and conciliatory.

At least try the jam. Dreshpho makes it when it's the season of the fruit. It's a classic, Samar explained.

*******

After riding for a long time, Mithir and Ronu reached a secluded road north of the mansion. Mithir grabbed the reins of his horse and slowly entered the forest, while Ronu followed him. Soon after, the magician felt they were sufficiently far away from prying eyes and concluded that that was a good place. He tied his horse to a tree and helped the girl do the same.

Mithir had taken a glibness potion before leaving the mansion. The potion would allow him to speak normally all day, as if he didn't have a speech impediment. He didn't want to miss the opportunity to talk to that nice young woman. Maybe during the day he could have time to teach her some sign language, in order to maintain communication in the following days.

Ronu was a little nervous. Assistant to a magician! That was a task that she had never had the opportunity to do. In addition, after the tests the young man had to carry out, he had promised to take her to the city. Mithir told her where to stand and asked her to hold the bag while he went back to the horse's saddlebag. He returned shortly after, carrying a book that looked old. The magician glanced through it quickly, looking for a particular page, and when he found it, stopped to read it and reread it several times. He closed it and then closed his eyes as he mumbled something repeatedly. He put the book on the floor and reached into the bag that Ronu was still holding. After a while, he took purple powders out of a small bag and rubbed his hands with them. Then he made some magical passes, and waited.

The magician's face betrayed that something had not gone as expected. He began to walk and tried to jump, only to return once again to Ronu, looking upset. He picked up the book again from the floor and read and reread the same passage. After repeating the process with the powders and the magical passes, Ronu saw the magician's hands giving off small but perceptible flashes, which ceased almost immediately. The magician took a step back and then forward again. He looked up and smiled.

Ronu smiled back, not quite understanding what had happened. The girl's smile lit up her pretty face and left Mithir puzzled for a moment. She looked better than the day before, and certainly much better than when they had found her. In fact, she looked great. She was pretty, but there was something more. That smile could encourage even the heaviest heart or the most wounded soul. Suddenly, the young man felt his heart began to beat faster and, for a moment, he forgot all about his spell. This had never happened to him. When he was in the midst of his magical activities, he always kept his concentration; nothing was more exciting and interesting than trying a new