by S E Wendel
The House of The Rising Sun
- 1 -
A Time of War and Demons
S. E. Wendel
Contents
Title Page
A Time of War and Demons
Dramatis Personae
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Fifty
Fifty-One
Fifty-Two
Fifty-Three
Fifty-Four
Fifty-Five
Fifty-Six
Fifty-Seven
Fifty-Eight
Fifty-Nine
Sixty
Dramatis Personae
The Highlands
The Courtnays—
Ehman Courtnay, Lord of Highcrest, the Westerlands, and the High Mountains; father of Irina, Ennis, Adena, and Essa; killed during the sack of Highcrest
Irina Courtnay, oldest daughter of Ehman Courtnay
Ennis Courtnay, second daughter of Ehman Courtnay
Adena Courtnay, third daughter of Ehman Courtnay
Essa Courtnay, youngest daughter of Ehman Courtnay
Asa Dunley Courtnay, Lady of Highcrest; mother of Irina, Ennis, Adena, and Essa; died in childbirth with Essa
Aline Courtnay Falkland, Lady of Carradon; younger sister of Ehman Courtnay
The Dunstans—
Adren Dunstan, King of the Highlands; Lord of Ells
Isla Dunstan, Princess of the Highlands; daughter of Adren Dunstan
Colm Dunstan, Crown Prince of the Highlands; son of Adren Dunstan
Dunstan Gilgriss, former King of the Highlands; first of the Dunstan line; his reign began the Highland Wars
Adelaide Morland Dunstan, former Queen of the Highlands; first wife of Dunstan Gilcriss
Lora Finnley, childhood friend of Ennis Courtnay; daughter of Hugh Finnley
Hugh Finnley, Lord Courtnay’s Captain of the Guard; father of Lora
Arion Morn, Lord of Dannawey; younger brother of Arek Morn
Arek Morn, older brother of Arion Morn; betrothed to Irina Courtnay; killed during the sack of Highcrest
Galen Aric, Lord of Aldann
Hammel Winwood, Lord of Berredey
Parnell Winwood, father of Hammel Winwood; killed by Adren Dunstan at the Second Battle of Bridgewater
Jorran Farlan, Lord of Erro; instigator of the Fifth Farlan Revolt
Elric Gowan, Lord of Green Valley
The Lowlands
Manek, warlord of Rising (in his father’s stead); strategist to Larn
Kierum, warlord of Rising
Kasia, wife of Kierum; mother of Manek
Anneka, Manek’s older sister; deceased
Taryn, a swordsmith; Manek’s seneschal; husband of Kenna
Kenna, a baker; wife of Taryn
Marc, Taryn and Kenna’s older son
Kellen, Taryn and Kenna’s younger son
Haemon, a farrier
Beon, a smith and Taryn’s neighbor; one of Manek’s captains
Waurin, warlord of Carmetheon; captain to Manek
Elodie, Waurin’s mother
Par, Waurin’s seneschal
Rick, chief of the Oltaraani of Tiernay
Vaal, Rick’s oldest son
Kennick, chief of the Horsemen of Wheatfield; trade partners with Rising
Landon, leader of the Mountain Land clans
The Haven—
Renata Ainsley, Lady Sister of the Ceralian Haven of Rising; former Lady of Ferrawood; co-conspirator in the Ainsley Plot against Ehman Courtnay
Sister Aelia
Sister Jenna
Sister Kanna
Sister Elarie
Sister Adelaide
Sister Jessamin
The Midlands
Larn, Lord of the Midlands, Lord of Scallya
Myrah, Larn’s wife
Verian, Larn’s oldest son
Dorran, Larn’s seneschal
Gaetien, Larn’s cupbearer
Lyda, Gaetien’s sister
The Gods
Themin the Father, King of the Heavens, god of the sky, sun, moon, and stars; patron god of kings and scholars; protector of man
Ceralia the Mother, Queen of the Heavens, goddess of rain; patron goddess of queens and healers
Mithria the Life-Giver, goddess of the earth; patron goddess of farmers; protector of the dead
Dea the Destroyer, goddess of chaos, fire, and disaster; patron goddess of warmongers, usurpers, and traitors
Balan the Wave-Rider, god of the sea; son of Themin and Ceralia; twin of Adain; patron god of sailors
Adain the Rapid, god of the rivers; son of Themin and Ceralia; twin of Balan; patron god of travelers
Anona the Frostbitten, goddess of snow, ice, and the northern wind; daughter of Themin and Ceralia; patron goddess of hermits, ascetics, and recluses
Ma’an the Stone-Bearer, god of the mountains; son of Themin and Mithria; patron god of miners, ironworkers, and smiths
Tamea the Fleet-Footed, goddess of the forests and wilderness; daughter of Themin and Mithria; patron goddess of hunters, mystics, and seers; guide to the dead
Ean the Deceiver, god of war, horses, and the southern wind; son of Themin and Dea; patron god of warriors, strategists, and wanderers
Terms
First Tongue, the original language spoken by the first mortals
Highland Wars, a 200-year period of civil conflict in the Highlands that began when Dunstan Gilcriss usurped the throne from his old brother, the king. The wars caused mass migration to the south and wiped out most of the noble families
Lady Sister, head Sister of a Ceralian Haven
Line, a ruling family, dynasty
Lordling, nickname for a lord’s child, especially an heir apparent
Lord Midland, Lord Dannawey, Lord Highcrest, etc., shorthand for a landed lord’s full title
Mithrian, an ethnic group originating from the Highlands
Oltaraani, an ethnic group from the southern coastal region of the Lowlands
One
From the ashes of chaos rose Themin, glorious and horrible, and after him, in his image, were born the gods and goddesses. To prove his might, he molded a body from mud, pouring into it liquid iron for blood, and added a pinch of stardust to make it think and feel and wonder. In this way, he fashioned the mortals, and they did deem him godly and worthy of worship.
—Mithrian creation myth
The moon hid in a cloak of billowing ash and smoke. Heat seared skin and face, sparks bounding from one timbered roof to the next until it seemed the whole worl
d was aflame. Screams echoed across the three peaks of Highcrest as people barricaded their doors against sword and club.
Ennis Courtnay stood upon her balcony, watching slaughter. The invading hordes streamed into the castle from the Mountain Gate by the thousands, their mass of black-clad bodies like a dark wave coming to consume them all. It was a nightmare, a sick, horrible nightmare wherein she looked upon death itself. One of her sisters should have woken her by now.
“Ennis, come away from there!” Ennis felt her elder sister’s shaking hands on her shoulders. “Now!”
The wicked orange of the fires burnt her eyes and she felt she would never see again. Torn from the sight of Highcrest burning, Ennis stumbled back into Irina’s bedchamber. Other ladies of the castle hurried through the great oak doors, their silken nightgowns and unkempt hair fluttering behind them.
How could the hordes be here? There had been talk of them for years. Villagers from small townships to the south had fled their broadswords, bringing tales of barbarity not seen since the recently ended Highland Wars. Townships came under their sword, not cities. Ennis’s father, Lord Ehman Courtnay, hadn’t believed they would brave the mighty De’lan River and attack them outright.
“We have to get out—they’re coming!” Irina whimpered, her eyes darting around the room.
“Father will come soon. We just have to wait. He’ll be here. He’ll come.”
“Ennis,” said Irina, the eldest Courtnay daughter, “he’s not coming.” The whole of her body—her pointed nose, the corners of her eyes, her slim shoulders, her tall frame—was a series of sharp, downturned lines.
“How can you say that?”
A tear dripped off Irina’s sharp chin. “We’re to die tonight.”
Ennis glared at her with gray, steely eyes. “Don’t say such things! This is Highcrest—it cannot fall!”
“Look around, Ennis! Highcrest burns!”
“We’re Courtnays. We are Highcrest. We cannot fall.”
After the last of the noblewomen hurried into the bedchamber, they disregarded their billowing silk sleeves and finely embroidered nightgowns to press their shoulders to dressers and wardrobes, shoving them up against the door as crashing came from downstairs. Ennis hurried over to her youngest sister.
Essa quivered, her golden braid falling apart and her cheeks, usually so rosy, damp with tears. Ennis took Essa’s hand in her own and gave it a squeeze.
They could hear voices echoing throughout the castle, shaking the very stones. Essa looked up at her with eyes far too large, her long dark lashes clumped together. Ennis tried to look reassuring. All they need do was stall for time. Father would be there soon, she knew it. Father would stop them, she was sure. They would drive away these murdering whoresons, bury their dead, and rebuild. They need only wait for Father.
She felt someone take her other hand and looked over to see Lora. Her closest friend for twenty years, Lora’s hand shook in Ennis’s, but she stood straight and tall. Ennis didn’t know if she’d ever been more relieved to see someone. Lora’s face was so familiar, each dark freckle so dear, and for a moment all Ennis could think of was them together as children, swimming in the harbor, dodging ships, their fathers squawking with horror from the wall above.
All thirty women jumped as the Keep groaned. A thunderous crack echoed up and down the stone halls like a scream. The sounds of death shook the rafters. Ennis’s breath caught in her throat.
Lora clutched at her shoulder. “They’ve broken through…”
Ennis trembled as Essa began to sob.
“Ennis,” Lora whispered. She glanced at her friend. Lora looked much older than she had a moment ago.
Moving through the crowd of shuddering bodies with Essa and Lora in tow, Ennis heaved the great wooden wardrobe, the last piece of unmoved furniture, aside and opened the small door behind it, revealing an impossibly narrow corridor with steep steps and weeping walls. A secret passage for any Courtnay daughter, it was the only other way from the bedchamber.
Pushing Essa in front of her, she grabbed for Lora and began ushering all of them into the stairwell, the sound of pounding at the door hastening their escape. The women rushed down the sharp steps, one by one, trying not to slip on the damp stone. Only Adena, the third daughter, and her handmaiden Aunna remained. They huddled together in the corner, clutching each other, and both looked faraway.
“Come,” said Ennis softly, taking their hands and pulling them towards the open threshold. There were hoarse shouts on the other side of the main door, and her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of an axe hacking through.
Shaking from scalp to toenail, Adena slowly descended into the stairwell.
“Go, milady,” said Aunna, pushing Ennis down onto the third step.
Ennis dug her fingers into a crevice to catch herself then turned on her heels. She met Aunna’s dripping gaze—she tried to make it back to the landing, almost got there, but Aunna shut the door in Ennis’s face. The key, after grating in the lock, plunked to the floor on the other side.
Realizing what had happened, Adena fell upon the door as they heard the wardrobe grate back into place. She beat her fists against the cold wood.
“Aunna, Aunna, no, no, open the door! Aunna, come with us!”
Ennis grabbed her sister, dragging her down the first few steps with her hand pressed against her open mouth, nails digging into Adena’s cheek. Still Adena struggled, wails escaping between Ennis’s fingers. Panicking as she heard the bedchamber doors crash open, she threw her sister against the wall and slapped her as hard as she could.
Adena’s chest heaved up and down, up and down, as she touched her cheek. More tears flooded her large blue eyes, her bowed lips trembling. “You…”
“Sshhh!” Ennis hissed, throwing her body over Adena’s.
They heard Aunna scream and men shout, then a heavy splattering against the wardrobe. Ennis closed her eyes, her mouth puckering to hold in a sob. She felt Adena’s tears running between her fingers.
Hurried, scrabbling words echoed on the other side, and Ennis could hear them searching, turning over furniture, rummaging through jewelry boxes. She clasped Adena’s wrist and pulled her down the stairs. It was dark, the few torches unlit, and they stumbled on the sharp edges, their silk slippers gripping the stone steps as surely as water.
It seemed to take a lifetime to reach the bottom, and Ennis’s legs ached. The door at the landing stood wide open. They found themselves at the foundations of the Keep, and as Adena began the frozen climb down the steep embankment, Ennis shut the door behind them.
The embankment was narrow, and they hurried down one behind the other, their nightgowns gathered at their waists. Ennis ran her hand along the smooth rocks of the foundation for balance, watching each footfall.
They made for the nearest bridge, anchored on a ledge at the bottom of the embankment. It hung in the cold night air, swaying in the breeze. It, like many of the other small workmen bridges, was made up of sturdy boards, held together by thick ropes, and spanned across the deep, cavernous western side of the harbor. Centuries ago her ancestors had dammed up all the creeks and tributaries snaking through the southern stretches of the High Mountains, creating a lake to surround the three peaks of Highcrest. Soon after, the lake spilled south to the ancient De’lan River.
Across the bridge stood ramparts lining the wall of Highcrest’s southern peak, which led down to wooden docks. The water was dark and still, reflecting the fires above, and from the orange light she could just barely make out the shadow of a few moored boats.
Several women were already traversing the bridge, but more still were huddled on the ledge regarding it warily. Ennis saw Irina, Essa, and Lora at the back of the group, their faces turned towards the castle. They cried out when they saw Ennis and Adena climbing down.
Ennis waved at the bridge. “Go!” she screamed, her pace quickening when she heard the door at the top of the embankment slam open.
Lora lurched forwards, her a
rm reaching out as she screamed, “Ennis! Ennis, behind you!”
The other women, startled, stopped moving and watched with wide eyes and gaping mouths as men flooded from the door.
“Go, go!” Ennis cried, pushing Adena forwards as they reached the bottom of the embankment.
Ennis couldn’t see who it was, but finally a woman began running onto the bridge. Others followed, and as she threw herself into Lora’s waiting arms, the group moved as one to the bridge.
Their pace was slow, torturous, the bridge only wide enough for one at a time, and before no more than two had made it halfway across, they were set upon. Ennis jumped back from the hand that seized at her. She slapped at it, then another, but soon there were too many. She was overwhelmed by rank flesh and cold armor. Hands pulled at her golden hair, hands wrapped around her throat, hands tore at her wrists to wrench off her bracelets and rings. She screamed out, but it was lost in the mass of bodies swelling around her.
“Hold them fast!” called one.
“Try not to stick them yet, boys!” said another.
She heard her nightgown tear somewhere and staggered forwards, digging her shoulder into the nearest gut. She took a gulp of air before great bearish arms came around her from behind and held fast. All she could hear were disembodied screams and wails and tears. Everywhere were helmeted faces and iron shoulders, their voices and hands rough as they grabbed, groped, searched the women.
