Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God by Barry Gibbons

to pay you a visit, and let you know what we had discovered."
The huge man quickly embraced Damion, then hurried over to help Raven down from her mare. "Welcome to my homeland , Raven." He said, embracing her gently. "Anything that you may wish for is yours. You need only ask."
"That is very generous of you, Bativa, thank you." She replied sweetly, giving the tattooed man a chaste kiss on the cheek.
" Why don't we take this inside? I've had an oxen roasting over a spit since this morning, and I have some wonderful elven wine that I think you'll find quite pleasing."
They followed the clan chief inside of the strange domed structure, leaving their horses to be cared for by a pair of Deolan warriors.
The interior of Bativa's home was surprisingly luxurious. It had been constructed from a sturdy hardwood that had been stained a soothing dark brown, and polished until it gleamed. A large fireplace had been constructed on one side of the large room and sheathed in gleaming white marble. Dozens of enormous overstuffed pillows made from the finest material had been piled together along one section of the wall, providing a comfortable place for one to lounge. In the center of the room stood a long banquet table carved from a single block of white granite, and polished to a sheen. Dozens of heavy wooden chairs with soft plush cushions had been securely bolted to the floor around the table.
"Please, seat yourselves." The clan chief insisted. "My home is your home. Make yourselves comfortable, and I'll have some refreshments prepared." He hurried over to speak with one of the young women who stood by, ready to see to their visitors. She hurried off through the small doorway in the far wall that separated the kitchens from the main room. He hurried back and took a seat across the table from Damion. "Now, tell me about this troubling information that you alluded to earlier."
"It started with Shirk's discovery of highwaymen preying on the caravans travelling on the trade route ." Damion began. He went on to tell the clan chief of the discovery of the weapons caches, and how they managed to trace them back to their source in Sierra. "Once we figured out where the weapons were coming from, it was fairly easy to follow them to their destination."
"And what did you discover there?" Bativa asked curiously, accepting a goblet from the young woman , who had returned with a tray of sliced beef and cheese, and a large pitcher of wine.
"A man by the name of Faldor is behind the shipments. Apparently, he's the leader of one of the gangs that operate in the area."
Bativa's face fell. "I know of Faldor. He and his men are suspected in being involved in cattle rustling. A number of our cattle ha ve been stolen in the last few months, and the rumors are that he and his men are responsible."
"Shirk and Dar managed to gain an audience with one of the rival gang leaders, and learned this Faldor character has been attempting to build his own army. There are hundreds of men camped out at his plantation near Crete. The weapons in the caravans are meant for them. We think he plans on attacking your clan."
" Where did he get the gold to hire the men?" The clan chief looked baffled. "He and his men are just petty thieves! He could never afford to raise an army!"
"According to the gang leader that Shirk and Dar spoke with, he may have someone funding his efforts. Do you have any idea on who that could be?"
The tattooed man thought about it for a long moment, then shook his head. "No one that would go to such lengths. Besides, most of my enemies are no longer around to cause me any concern."
"Well, according to the other gang leaders, he definitely has someone backing his moves. He's never been very well off, but here recently he seems to have an abundance of gold. That suggests that someone is paying him, and paying him well."
"Something has to be done about this." Bativa's face was concerned. "We cannot just sit back and wait for them to attack us."
"Of course you