Three riders traveled the ancient stone road linking Antocona to Megidan. Constructed
when Meizak was united, it had decayed through centuries of disrepair, a decay that
had paralleled Meizak's gradual collapse into warring regions.
Used by expansive caravans, wandering pilgrims and eager traders, it now overflowed
with fleeing families hauling wagons stacked with personal belongings or carrying
earthly possessions on crooked backs.
"I don't like this," Dalacroy commented. The mercenary was solidly built under his
cloth tunic and leather jerkin. Slate blue eyes peered intently from a square, youthful
face. A mop of brown hair swept across his furrowed brow. He pushed it back with
a gloved hand.
"An assessment of understatement," Lyman replied. The scholar shifted his heavy body,
stubby fingers clearing a twisted section of robe wedged between saddle and saddle
Moirya remained silent, auburn hair blowing about her shoulders, green eyes sweeping
the scene before them. She nudged her mount into the path of a family of peasants.
A tired, dust-caked man stopped, placing himself before his wife and four children.
He adjusted a heavy pack on his shoulders and waited, sullen eyes averted.
"You, what happened?"
Dalacroy raised an eyebrow. Moirya's voice held an imperious edge that surprised
The peasant shifted uneasily and glanced at the refugees streaming past. They gave
the party wide berth. “Leave us be. They’ll kill my family.”
Dalacroy dropped his hand to his sword hilt and growled, “Answer her. What happened?”
The peasant worked his toil-blackened fingers. “Qialtl has fallen.”
Moirya gasped. “What?”
“To Lord Nezu. Yesterday.” He began to edge around the mounted party. “Please, let
This is another well known variety of sword and sorcery tale... deft characterization helps it stand out. -Tangent Online
‘Homecoming’ is the best Dalacroy tale yet. The prose is smoother, the tale tighter, the action more intense and the world more alive. Good stuff. - John C. Hocking, author of Conan & the Emerald Lotus