Golden Box Book Publishing GBBP Magazine, June, 2017 | Page 20

turned back on itself. Grona did not break stride; his men followed
behind, hands holding tightly onto the hilts of their swords.
The sun had warmed their bodies but wet clothes still hung
loosely over their shoulders and torso. But the cave did not
provide the expected cool air. All of them felt the first beads of
perspiration running down their faces and backs. Grona’s hand
touched the nearest rock. Snatching it quickly away he could not
believe how it could be leeching so much heat.
“We welcome you to our humble home. You may remove
your outer garments, they will soon dry here.”
Grona’s band looked for the source of the melodious voice,
but in such a place, the sound echoed off the walls.
A swirling mist, like a whirlwind in the desert formed in the
middle of the cave. Pale with the colour of sand and tinged with
the colour of night a humanoid shape appeared above them. He
looked like a man but his features ebbed and flowed like gentle
waves on a sandy shore.
“I am one of The Souls and you have been summoned to do
our bidding.”
Grona walked forward, hands on hips. “Bollocks to that. Show
yourself!”
A tall man appeared. He wore sandals on his feet; almost
unseen under a woollen robe adorned by a thin leather belt. Long
grey hair hung loosely down his back and around his face. It was
difficult to see where his hair stopped and his beard began. Slate
grey eyes held them in his thrall as he looked down.
Grona forced his eyes away.
“You caused the ship to sink. You condemned all those men to
death. I’ve seen less evil on a battlefield.”
“It was necessary. You and your men had to survive. The rest
were of no use to us.”
“How very kind of you, but if you expect my gratitude, forget
it.”
“We only expect compliance Grona, from you, and your
men.”
“And if we don’t?”
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