2013 Aprhys Publishing
Copyright 2018 by Kenneth Price
Earth Magic is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
To my wife, Ann
and
In memory of Charles Price
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER ONE
Elwin ap Gruffydd was at an age where he was not quite a man, nor could you honestly call him a boy. Stuck between childhood and adulthood, the young Gruffydd was lost in his thoughts. Hunched over a rather old cherry wood desk that had seen better days, the young man seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Before him was an extraordinarily old, worn, and, a rather large book. Ever since he was very young, Elwin had loved to read. True, a large degree of that love had come from the pride he saw in his father's eyes. Elwin's father had not been a learned man but had always encouraged his son's pursuit of knowledge. Partly to please his father, and part to quench his boundless thirst for knowledge, Elwin had always taken his learning very seriously. Slowly, he ran his hand across the large book. The black leather cover was worn thin in many places, and small pieces of the black leather broke off under Elwin's fair skinned hands. Carefully, he opened it. The first page cracked in his hands. His eyes widened.
Despite the plain looking cover, the book had to have been made by a master craftsman. Wondering why such a book had been left in the dusty old tower library, Elwin stared at the page. Embellished upon the parchment were several golden red dragons. Encircling the page, the dragons' snake-like bodies twisted and curved together. After admiring the artist's illumination, Elwin turned his attention to the large graceful lettering. The golden colored print was in the old Kambryan dialect, which only a few scholars could still read. Elwin was proud of the fact that he had mastered the language at such a young age. His father had seen to it that he was given a first-rate education and was particularly insistent that he know the language of his ancestors. Elwin had often wondered at his father's strange demand to know such an archaic script, but at the moment, the boy appreciated his father's unorthodox demands of his tutors. It had been difficult even to find a scholar who could teach the old language. His father had to search all the kingdoms of Kambrya before he was able to find one. A few years after that, Elwin had mastered a language that he imagined he would never use. At the top of the page was the title in bold lettering, “The Chronicles of Brother W…is” Only the first and last letters of the scribe's name remained. The rest of the golden red letters had faded and now lost to time. Elwin remembered that there had once been a local Saint Wallis, in the Kambryan religion of the Three Gods. Saint Wallis had indeed once lived in Reidh County. Elwin was now in the same Reidh County that had once been home to Saint Wallis. Elwin recalled that Saint Wallis had founded the Wallisinan Order of the Three Gods. The order’s monastic center was not too far away. Running a hand through his long light-brown hair, Elwin wondered if he was looking at the writing of a saint.
Time had indeed taken its toll on the book. The golden lettering in some areas had faded or was gone entirely. Considering its age, the text was in amazingly good condition. Elwin brushed aside the hair from his eyes and began to translate the ancient text.
“THE HISTORY OF KING COINNEACH AP GRUFFYDD, HIGH KING OF KAMBRYA
by Brother Wallis
Brother Wallis! It really was written by Brother Wallis!
Elwin inhaled. Coinneach was the last king to rule over the Six Kingdoms of Kambrya. Shrouded in myths, King Coinneach was considered the greatest of Kambrya’s kings. He was also Elwin’s distant ancestor. The sword that hung at Elwin’s side was believed to have once belonged to the great king.
In disbelief, Elwin read on.
“In the year 728, of Triesch, King Coinneach ap Gruffydd,
High King of Kambrya passed away. With the passing of the High King, the world has emerged into a new age. The time of heroes, glory and war is over. The age of peace has begun.”
The next several pages described the early history of King Coinneach. Some of the history Elwin was familiar with and some he was not. Then Elwin came to the story of King Coinneach's death. The death of the great King was a part of the histories that had been lost. Elwin glimpsed an image of himself as a great scholar, the scholar who was going to bring back the lost history of Kambrya. Elwin’s father wish to have an educated son was going to make Elwin famous within scholarly circles, and Elwin was only seventeen.
Coinneach ap Gruffydd, High King of Kambrya, had discovered a means of stopping the wars. With his discovery, King Coinneach (known as the Champion of the Blue Knight, defender of truth) set out to end the wars.
Carefully, Elwin turned the brittle page and read on. Brother Wallis had written of how the king and the Kambryan army had set out from Acair, and of the bloody summer that followed. Enthralled, Elwin read details of hard fought battles, glory, and death.
By the end of that summer, the army had fought their way to Ban-Darn, the castle of the Overlord.
“Ban Darn,” Elwin took another deep breath. He had heard of both Ban-Darn and the Overlord. The myths and stories of the black walls of Ban-Darn and its evil master were often told and re-told. They were the tales of bards and gleemen. The stories were entertaining, but they were not usually believed. Could they have been real? Elwin wondered. Or maybe this Brother Wallis was mad. That seems more likely. According to Brother Wallis, the Dark Overlord was the master of a cult called the Severed Head. Elwin had heard of the cult. A few years ago he would have said that the cult was a myth as well, but now things were different. Centuries after King Coinneach had died, the Cult of the Severed Head had returned, and was challenging the Doctrine of the Three Gods.
Elwin next read of a great battle that was fought at the walls of Ban-Darn. At the Battle of Ban-Darn, King Coinneach and the Overlord had killed each other. The wars had finally come to an end, and the Cult of the Severed Head disappeared into the mists of legends. Elwin touched the hilt of his sword at his side. Running his hand along the engraved silver weavings, he wondered if it had been the same sword that had killed the Dark Master of the Severed Head. But could Elwin believe what he was reading? Elwin shook his head. It can’t be true.
Intensely studying the passage, Elwin did not see the count's son enter the library. He was a handsome young man with curly red hair and a cheerful round face and was dressed in the fine silk clothing of a lord. A silver brooch pinned to his light blue shirt sparkled in the light, and a plaid tartan draped over his
left shoulder gave him a noble look. The young lord cleared his throat. "I thought I would find you here. What are you reading now?" His voice carried the slight hint of the accent the county was known for, and his R's rolled gently off his tongue.
Quickly closing the book, Elwin looked up with a start. “Oh, hi Pallas... nothing. Just reading.”
"Come on Elwin; I know you..." Pallas stopped short as Elwin's eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
"Okay, okay," Pallas, sighed. "I'm sorry. I mean ‘Eoin.' What does it matter, anyway? Nobody can hear us up here. Other than you, nobody ever even comes up here. Besides, other than me, who would recognize you as Prince Elwin of Ceredigion?"
“Everyone, if you don’t keep your mouth shut!” snapped Elwin. He knew Pallas was right, but one had to be careful.
“What brings you up here?” Elwin asked, his voice no longer sounding harsh. Like everyone else, Elwin found it hard to stay mad at Pallas. “You are not a common sight in libraries.”
“I have been seen in them before,” Pallas replied with a wry smile.
“Ha!” laughed Elwin, rubbing a cramp in his neck, “Only when Count Dovan makes you!”
“And not as often as father would like,” laughed Pallas.
Pallas was the type of person that lived life to its fullest and was always ready with a joke and a smile. It was only with Pallas that Elwin was able to let out his sillier side. It was the effect the young noble had on people, and it was a quality that the stoic and scholarly Elwin envied.
“Well, what do you want?” asked Elwin. “You are not here to find a book, are you?”
“Heavens no!” Pallas feigned a horrified look. “Why should I do such a foul thing as to read a book? No, I am happy to leave the libraries of the world to you.”
“Well then, why are you here?”
“I have news you might like to hear.”
“News in Reidh County?” Elwin smiled as he pushed the book off to one side. “I did not realize things ever happened in Reidh, at least nothing that one could actually call news.”
“Ha ha! Very funny!”
“Well, out with it,” Elwin grinned. “Did Widow MacKay’s cow have its calf, or was there some other great earth-shaking event?"
“I don’t know if I should tell you. You keep insulting me and my home!”
Elwin rolled his eyes, praying for patience, “Okay, I’m sorry, it’s a lovely place. Now, what’s up?”
Pallas ran a hand through his thick curly red hair. “That’s the poorest apology I have ever heard, but I’ll let it go this time. A ship has come in. It’s the first of the year.”
Elwin jumped to his feet as if his chair had been kicked out from under him. With long strides, he raced to the window. A ship meant there would be news of the world beyond the Southern Drygan Mountains—there could even be word from Ceredigion, or better yet, his father. Last summer, Elwin had hoped to hear from his father, but no word had come. Elwin had different ideas this year. Word or no word, he was taking that ship. He was going home!
From the Keep's tower window, Elwin looked out over Port Murray. Port Murray was not a large town, but it could not be considered small either. By the county's terms, it was a bustling city. To the rest of the world, it was a small fishing village. From the library window, Elwin could see down the main street. He saw the people going about their lives; running errands, buying goods at the market, or whatever else had to be done. At the moment, the street was rather quiet, but past experience told him it would be crowded tonight. The first ship of the year always caused excitement. It was a reason to celebrate. In Reidh county every ship was a major event, but the first of the year produced an almost carnival atmosphere.
The ship had lowered its anchor in the center of the harbor. Typically ships preferred to tie up along the wharf where it was easier to load and unload cargo. But this ship was made for the deep waters of the ocean, and the water along the pier was too shallow for it. Slowly, the ship rocked in the swells that rolled in from the Iar Sea. On board deck, the crew was busy furling sails and coiling lines. Elwin wondered what the ship's cargo would be. He knew there would be cargo because no ship entered Port Murray empty. Goods from beyond the mountains brought a good price in this isolated part of the world, especially when the mountain passes were still blocked with snow. Beyond the harbor and bay was the Iar Sea. The jagged waves made the horizon look like a row of sharp points. Sailors called such a horizon ‘shark teeth,' a sure sign of rough seas. No doubt the ship and crew had a hard voyage.
“Any news?” asked Elwin, still looking out the window.
Clearing a spot on the desk so he could sit down, Pallas shoved a pile of books off to one side. Sitting on the desktop, the Lord looked carefully at Elwin's back. He could sense Elwin was planning something, and Pallas was determined to be part of it.
“I don’t know,” admitted Pallas with a shrug of his shoulders. “I came here first. I thought you might like to head into town with me. Besides, the Dryrot won't be open for a couple of hours."
Elwin turned to face Pallas. “You want to go to the Dryrot? War could have broken out, and you think of beer? Your priorities seem to be a bit confused.”
Pallas shrugged. “They seem proper to me. Besides, in Reidh you learn not to worry too much about the outside world. By the time news reaches here, it’s already history.”
Elwin laughed. In the past three years, he had learned that things in Port Murray rarely changed and never fast. Elwin had grown up in Acair, the busy capital city of Ceredigion. With its slow and stress-free life, Reidh was not a bad place to live, but Elwin was frustrated by the county's isolation. He had been on edge all winter, waiting for spring and news of Ceredigion. Late last summer there had been rumors of war. People were saying that Strigiol had invaded Cluain. Then with the arrival of winter, the rumors stopped. It was impossible to tell how Lyon de Brodie, King of Cluain, would react to war. Would he stand up to King Jerran? Most people thought he would not. Elwin had never met King Lyon, but according to those who had, the king was less than impressive. Evidently, Lyon was a man more dedicated to drink, rich food and elaborate parties than to his kingdom or its people.
Elwin did not think he was in any real danger. The only ones who knew he was in Reidh County were Pallas, the count and countess, and Lord Rodan, the count’s trusted man-at-arms.
What worried Elwin was that if Strigiol had attacked Cluain, would Ceredigion be far behind? In a bold move, King Jerran had already invaded and conquered Lyndand, and Easland. The king of Strigiol seemed bent on conquering all of Kambrya. As a descendant of the last high kings, Elwin knew he would be in danger. That was why he was hiding here in this remote corner of the six kingdoms.
Elwin turned and looked out the window once more. The ship anchored in the harbor reminded him of another ship. A similar ship had brought Pallas and Elwin to Port Murray. Elwin had never wanted to leave his home. The whole thing had been his father’s idea, and when King Artair ap Gruffydd wanted something, he usually got it. This was especially true when it came to his family.
Three years ago, shortly after King Jerran had invaded Easland, King Artair announced that he had to make a trip to the city of Llanbaedarn, and he asked if Pallas and Elwin wished to come along. Pallas, who was a squire learning to become a knight, had been at the Ceredigion court for a few years. It was during those years that Elwin and Pallas had met and become friends. The two friends quickly accepted the king's offer. Elwin remembered it as if it had just been yesterday. Standing at the library window, Elwin recalled the memory. The trip to Llanbaedarn had taken several weeks. Elwin's father and his entourage were traveling slowly, visiting the local fiefdoms along the road. In some cases, they would stay a few days as the King met with the local nobility, but at last, they had reached the city. The ride into the city had been long and dusty, so Elwin and Pallas had a quick dinner, followed by a hot bath and then hurried off to bed. King Artair also went to his room, but he did not go to bed. That night, t
he king patiently waited until he was sure everyone in the castle had fallen off to sleep. He then silently slipped out of his bedroom chambers and crossed the hall to where Elwin and Pallas slept. Artair bent over his only son and gently shook him. Elwin's eyes fluttered open. The king's brown eyes were reflected in the brown eyes of his son; one pair full of power, the other with sleep. Artair leaned closer to Elwin and whispered, “Wake, my son. You have a boat to catch.” Elwin rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What is wrong?” he managed to ask between yawns.
“There’s no time for answers now,” replied Artair. The king helped Elwin from his bed and handed him some clothes. “Here, put these on. We have to hurry.”
Elwin fought off the desire to lie back down. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep, but instead, he slowly began to dress. As Elwin put on his clothes, Artair woke up Pallas, who was sharing the room with Elwin.
While Pallas was dressing, Elwin again tried to question his father but stopped short when his father's eyes narrowed into tiny slits. Elwin knew those eyes were a warning to keep quiet. Elwin could never remember his father raising his voice. There was no need to. King Artair had an air of authority about him. That authority did not come from being king, but rather from the type of man he was.
Outside the room, the castle was dark and silent. Quietly, they made their way to the Great Hall where the Duke held his court. Signaling Pallas and Elwin to follow, Artair entered the Great Hall. As if the walls were a large map, the king began to study their surface carefully. “What are you doing?” asked Elwin.
"Shhh," warned Artair. He reached up to one of the several torches that were mounted on the stone wall. "If I remember, this is the right one."
The torch, with its flickering flame, looked like all the rest in the hall, but as Artair slipped it from its brass mounting, the wall began to move. With a dull grinding sound, a secret door swung inwards revealing a long dark passageway. Elwin could hardly believe that a door could have been hidden in that wall, but there it was. With Pallas at his side, Elwin followed his father into the dark tunnel.
Earth Magic: A Kingdoms of Kambrya novel (The High King of Kambrya Book 1) Page 1
