Where Darkness Treads: Book Two—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Seventeen: Evil Hunger

"Unfortunately, it appears we have little choice. It will only be a matter of time before the enemy returns and strikes with an all-out attack. If we are going to find the sanctuary, it better be sooner, then later," Sir Alfred said, from behind them. He stepped up beside them, along with Changa.

"Brenna states the sanctuary is here, but where in the world is it?" Changa stood still, while slowly turning his head, staring into the darkness.

"I must admit, I don't understand what is happening. The map and the source of power, I was following, both tell me the sanctuary is near, yet I see no trace of it," Brenna said, in exasperation with her arms raised.

"Let us sleep on this matter. We can start out fresh in the morning. Perhaps, with clearer heads, we can find the answer to this puzzle, tomorrow," Donovan said with a voice, which sounded a great deal calmer than he felt.

Sitting by the fire, Donovan leaned against a log beside Morgan. Despite his best attempts to relax, he was unable to. Through his mind, drifted the scene of the placid surface of the swamp's black water. "'That, is no way for any man to die.'" Sir Alfred's words, returned to him, again and again.

A bonfire finally beckoned him to take a seat with Morgan. There was strength in numbers, and whatever lay in the waters of the bog, would be easier to discern during the day.

"Something awaits us down there, and we still need to find the sanctuary. I recommend that tomorrow, that search parties progress in teams of two. Under no circumstances, should anyone venture into the bog, no matter how shallow the water seems," Donovan said.

"How do we defend ourselves from a creature that hides from us in the water? We all saw Sergeant Edmore, he was standing in two inches, and the beast swept him off his feet. Why, the whole scene is unconscionable," Sir Alfred asked.

"It is clear we are facing a different type of predator, one that preys upon our naïveté. We must be doubly diligent with our movements," Prince Everin said.

Donovan knew his friend was right, in his approach to dealing with their nemesis in the bog. The people's 

Morale was sure to suffer if the deaths continued unabated.

With issues of fear floating in his mind, Donovan and Morgan excused themselves and walked to their tent. Tired, they both crawled into their bedroll, and settled in for the night. They both fell asleep, despite their varied fears.