by P D Ceanneir
‘Dwarves age slowly, highness,’ said Lord Soneros, a tall handsome man with thick eyebrows over keen pale brown eyes and long white hair that he always tied back into a bun behind his head with a brass cap. He was one of the oldest amongst the Ri Order and had fought in the Dragor-rix over two and a half thousand years ago. His age earned him the nickname of the Ever Living One.
‘Gunach may look young,’ continued the Ri, ‘but he is actually…,’
‘In the prime of my life,’ cut in the dwarf
Lord Soneros smiled. ‘Of course.’ The Kerf chuckled, proving to everyone that he could understand us all.
I looked at Gunach. His podgy, yet nimble, fingers were bedecked with finely crafted gold rings encrusted with emeralds and diamonds. He wore a large silver Torc around his neck, the ends of which were roaring dragons facing each other, both their eyes glinted with bright red rubies. I remarked on the artistry of his adornments.
‘Ah, most of these were made by my father,’ he said, inclining his head to the Kerf before placing a hand on the Torc. ‘This belonged to a Hinterland warrior called Wulf Storrinsonn. I found it in the Crystal Cave of the Bone Mountains.’ He said this in such an offhand way that we all fell into silence as we digested it. Wulf Storrinsonn was a famous member of elite mercenaries called the Halcyons. They fought their last battle against a large Acanthi horde during the Dragor-rix War.
‘Gunach!’ cried Lord Soneros, ‘you never told me you went to the Crystal Cave.’
Gunach shrugged. ‘I was on my Dhurth an’ertch.’
I looked at the Ri, perplexed, but it was Queen Nieve, a short woman well into her fifties but with an ageless beauty about her, who explained.
‘He means he went on a Life Quest,’ she said with a half smile, ‘which is a dwarf way of being nosy.’
This got another chuckle from the Kerf.
Soneros Ri was reluctant to let this go. ‘Did you find anything else in the cave, perhaps?’
‘As a matter of fact I did, she was very accommodating.’
‘Ciriana, accommodating!’ he cried. ‘You were luck she did not eat you.’
‘Dragons don’t like the taste of dwarves. Anyway, she welcomed me with open wings and we chatted well into the night. I left with some small tokens.’ He said indicating the gems on his rings and Torc.
‘You spoke to the last dragon alive and you never mentioned it to us?’ said my father slowly. I was not following this conversation at all. In time, through my connection with my Royal Consul, Lord Ness, I would meet the famous dragon and prophet, Ciriana. Yet, this moment under the high canopy of the Eternal Forest was when I discovered that a dragon existed at all. And, to make matters worse, my father also knew. He would later explain to me that it was secret that only the Rogun kings, and their heirs, kept.
To answer my father’s question, Gunach shrugged. ‘Ah, once you have seen one dragon, you have seen them all.’ We all laughed, though Soneros Ri still looked stunned.
‘I have known you dwarves for two millennia since I helped your ancestor Loris to free your people from the Lycan, and yet you still surprise me,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Lycan?’ I asked.
My father glanced over at Lord Soneros, who merely shrugged. It seemed to me that it was more of a signal to my father, an acknowledgement.
Father sighed. ‘Werewolves, son. Ness Ri and Soneros Ri sought their aid during the Dragor-rix War. In return for their help they received a royal grant to make a home on one of the islands in the South-sea Horn. There they live in peace.’
Everyone was grinning at the look of confusion on my face. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I have certainly learnt a lot today. Are you going to tell me next that Marshwraiths are real?’
To which Gunach replied, ‘well actually…’ But the dwarf did not get a chance to finish as, just at that moment, armed guards marched into the clearing with a bedraggled messenger. He had ridden from the Pass bearing a velum packet from King Valient to be hand delivered to my father, and suddenly our stay in the Eternal Forest was over.
In addition, my life would never be the same again.
4
The minor river Platte has its source on Jonick Mountain, one of the tallest in the Haplann Mountain Range. This late in the spring it was still fast-flowing and high with winter’s melt water. Spring had come early to this area, bringing with it clear blue sky, but it was still very cold, which would mean, I was thinking at the time, that the summer would be a wet one, and not good for the harvest.
Telmar had replied to father’s invitation to parley very quickly and had proposed a place to meet, strangely not in Aquen Town. We were to find him on the other side of the river by a large copse of conifers halfway between Aquen Town and Fort Curran. My brother Kasan, upon our return to the fort from the Eternal Forest, insisted on sending fifty cavalry squires as an honour guard. Father reluctantly agreed. My brother could be quite forceful when he wanted to be.
We travelled through the woodland and out onto a flower-strewn meadow. Up on a slight slope sat a white canvas awning with the new Vallkyte King under it. Beside him were Count Talien and Jarl Olav standing at either side of Telmar’s seat. A dozen leather-clad Berserkers stood behind them; they were unarmed but looked mean all the same as they wore the fur of the Hotten Isle black bear over their shoulders and the Jarl wore his with a fur-covered bear skull over his head, the front teeth digging into his forehead. The skull’s eyes were ominous black holes staring back at us.
We left our escort milling about at the wood’s edge and trotted to the tent. The king did not greet Father and me warmly. We stuck to protocol and bowed before him and then sat at the small square table when he nodded for us to sit.
‘Looks like you made king before me after all,’ said my father. Telmar smiled, but with no emotion in his eyes. In fact the man sitting opposite us looked like Telmar, but the persona himself was missing. So distant and lost was his expression that he looked like a stranger to me.
‘Why did you deceive me, Vanduke?’ he said. His voice was like a dry rasp and it was in that moment I knew everything had gone wrong between them.
Father frowned. ‘I have always been there for you, Telmar; you know that.’ I must admit he said this a little too loudly and with such obvious disrespect that I saw Talien flinch and glance worryingly at the king.
‘You were always there for Namwi were you not?’ said Telmar with a frown.
‘What do you mean by that?’
Telmar traced a finger around a dark knot in the table’s grain. ‘It strikes me that mother and Namwi had aid in this deception to marry me off. Convenient it was for you to be at Tuen House when I got there, was it not?’
I piped in at this point. ‘But Godfather, we had gone to visit the good count several days previous,’ I said, pointing to Talien, who did not look at any of us, but scrutinised the canvas canopy above his head instead.
Father rested a hand on my arm to silence me and then looked at Telmar with a scowl. ‘Alright, I was aware of their plan, but had no part in its formation,’ he said, and I gasped at this revelation. ‘I hated the idea of Aunt Cinnibar and you together. The further you were from my aunt’s arms the better. So I turned a deaf ear. None of us knew what would happen or the level of Cormack’s hate for you.’
Telmar slammed a palm onto the table, making everyone jump.
‘You think to cozen me, Vanduke! I had already seen the danger that Cinnibar embodied. Did you not think to ask me my mind in all of this?’
‘Most of the time your mind was addled!’ my father shouted back.
‘Gentlemen, please be calm!’ I beseeched them, and was surprised to see them both obeying me. I turned to the king. ‘Please sire, we are here to represent the Rogun king and to perceive your next step in this civil war that hangs over your lands. We are not here as enemies.’ I amazed myself at how sincere I sounded, and my father even looked proud. Telmar looked blankly back, but a twinkling of affection flashed in his eyes
for the briefest second, and then vanished.
He turned to my father. ‘He knows nothing about the Brethac Ziggurat, does he?’ he said, nodding towards me. I heard my father sigh and the count groan.
‘What…?’ I ventured with a confused look.
‘Leave the boy out of this. He is too young,’ said father.
‘Do you have doubts like I had, like Talien and Lord Joaquin did also? There are others too.’
Count Talien leant forward and spoke to my father, ‘you never became an Advocate of the Hidden Knowledge, my lord. You will not know the true meaning of the Order.’
Father seamed fascinated and perplexed at the same time.
‘I know they are followers of the Lonely God, that much I learnt,’ he said.
‘Who? What Lonely God?’ I asked. Everyone at that table ignored me. Therefore, I listened.
‘The Lonely God is the Dark Force of the Earth,’ said Telmar, more to my father than to me. My father went pale. ‘They wish to find a way to free him from the bonds of the Gredligg Orrinn.’
‘That cannot be! No one would join an Order that follows such a destructive entity,’ said father.
‘You would if you had no choice,’ countered Talien. ‘Cinnibar’s ability to control others through the Thought Link process is extraordinary. She and Lord Sernac have control of over half of the order.’
‘Thankfully I was immune to her touch,’ added Telmar, ‘though she tried to control me many times and failed. She knows of the true identity of the Lonely God. This is why I must destroy them and end the threat.’ He stared intently at my father, ‘They are the Lonely God’s greatest power and his eventual weakness.’
‘This is folly!’ shouted my father. ‘The Brethac Ziggurat is an order of brotherhood…’
‘Why is it then that they have a device that can aid them in talking to the creature? They have infiltrated many key areas of government, Vallkyte and Rogun. Moreover, they have the Elders Grymwards, books of secrets, books of power,’ said Telmar harshly.
Father remained quiet, but I could see he was fuming. I cleared my throat.
‘Maybe we should call it a day?’ I ventured.
Both the Rogun De Proteous and the Vallkyte king stared back at one another. My father broke first and sighed.
‘Telmar, let us not allow our differences to make enemies of one another. We have been friends too long,’ he said. ‘This situation of your monarchy is unprecedented. There has not been a usurpation of a Rawn throne since…’
‘Since your father murdered your grandfather, perhaps?’ the king cut in.
We all fell into silence. It was not a good thing to say to my father, who was fiercely loyal to the crown even though he never got on well with grandfather. The count looked stricken and even Olav, who was dauntingly silent, seemed shocked by the outburst. In Telmar’s memories, he had a stab of guilt at the statement, and then quickly pushed it away. Things had gone too far for remorse. He wanted to hurt my father for his role in Namwi and his mother’s plans.
Father clenched his gloved fist on the table. ‘That was uncalled for.’
Telmar merely shrugged. ‘The truth is a terrible burden to folk like us,’ he said.
‘You have changed, Telmar! I do not know the man before me,’ growled back my father.
‘Do you know the man who sired you? Do you know if he is a member of the Brethac Ziggurat?’
Father stood up so quickly that his chair toppled over. Jarl Olav was also on his feet, sword halfway from its sheath. Talien just looked from my father to the king and back again, wide eyed.
Telmar grinned. ‘You can’t answer can you?’ he said, ‘because you aren’t sure.’
By that time I was only vaguely following the conversation. Although I desperately wanted my father to answer the king and state grandfather’s innocence, he simply turned about and walked down the slope. I stumbled after him and heard the king slam his fist on the table behind me.
‘This is not over, Vanduke. I will destroy the Brethac Ziggurat and all those who do not renounce their ties to the Order!’ he shouted to our backs.
I caught up with father as he mounted his horse. ‘Father, what is this Brethac Ziggurat?’
‘Not now, Van!’ he snapped, and turned his horse from me and trotted with the escort into the woods.
5
Midday and it was still chilly. The misty breath of the horses hung in the air as they cantered over the slush and ice of the thawing road, the thick growth of conifers on either side of us blocked out the sunlight to create patches of shadows beyond the road verges. Up ahead I could hear the trickle of the narrow Platte River as it flowed over the submerged pebble bridge that acted as a fording area.
I finally caught up with father and almost pulled him off his saddle as I gripped his arm.
‘I think you have much to say to me, father! I heard a lot back there, but not enough,’ I said with a low voice because the squires flanked us.
Father looked angry, but not towards me. He looked behind him then at my frowning face. ‘I can’t get into this right now. I will speak to you…’ there was noise like a wet thump and I saw father jerk in his saddle. I looked behind him as he groaned and leant forward. Two arrows protruded from his back.
I was so shocked all I could do was stare.
Then the woods on either side of us burst into loud whoops and caterwauling. Arrows struck more men and they fell all around me. One squire’s horse panicked and it backed into mine with such force that it knocked me off the saddle and onto the ground. I landed in soft mud with hooves stomping all around me, and the sound of the remaining escort shouting and drawing swords.
I looked up, a face full of cold wet earth, and saw a long line of axe wielding Berserkers burst out from the fir trees and hacking at the cavalry horse’s legs. I stood up and unsheathed Tragenn, and then looked around for my father.
Father’s horse had skittishly stumbled sideways and away from me. Now she turned, shying away from more Berserkers who were running towards the fight from the other side of the road. The rear end of the animal smacked into two warriors of the clan and father chopped down with his sword to kill another.
The half-armoured squires bunched in a circle on their horses as the attackers hemmed them in, and were systematically cut down by the enemy axemen. Luckily, some were on their feet as they rolled off their dead mounts. I shouted loud and clear.
‘Hold fast and stand firm, protect the De Proteous!’ My men ran to the sound of my voice and I told them to surround father, but his struggle with a mass of Berserkers was a losing battle. His horse crumpled to her knees and he became surrounded by the screaming warriors of the clan. I yelled as I ran to his aid and saw an axe take him in his side just above his left hip, another slammed into his chest, cutting through his padded jupon and the third attacker embedded his saux sword into his lower spine.
With a burst of speed I was among the enemy and was swinging my sword. Her sharp edge cut open the saux wielder’s head when he had his back to me. I turned in time to catch the shaft of a swung axe and then Tragenn skewered the attacker.
About four squires flanked me as they rushed to my side; others dragged my father away from the fight. I used a quick burst of the Wind Element to send three Berserkers hurtling back into the woods. Then, to my surprise, the battle ended as the axemen fell back.
I quickly took stock as I looked around. Our dead littered the narrow road; some of the horses had run off down the road in panic, while others lay amongst the bodies of my escort. Steam escaped the wounds to cloud above the copses in the frigid air. At a glance I judged to have only about twenty men left out of fifty, but my main concern was father. Two squires knelt on either side of him as he lay in the mud; one of them wore the livery of a bannerette knight, so he was commander of these squires. He caught my attention and sadly shook his head. My mouth was dry and my larynx bobbed in a silent sob as I looked into the glazed, dead eyes of my father. I reverently closed the lids an
d cupped his cheek while at the same time saying a quick prayer for him whilst trying to hold back my emotions.
‘Surround him,’ I said, though it came out as a croak. ‘His death shall not be in vain.’ The squires did as ordered, accepting my overall authority, and I dimly realised that I was now heir to the Rogun throne.
The lull in the battle ended when enemy pikemen surged from the cover of the trees and I realised we were all doomed. With no shields and only swords to hand, the longer ash poled pikes would tear us apart. I sensed the wave of fear from the young squires but they fought back like veterans, defiant, spurred on by fear and anger. They died well; screaming at the enemy in fury at the senseless murder. The damage we meted out on the pikemen was horrendous. I even helped by using the Arts to turn the ash poles to splinters and send the shattered pieces back towards them with a gust of wind that caused the splinters to pierce any exposed flesh.
The fight lasted for an hour, the longest hour of my life. My boots were stuck in a gloop of blood right up to my knees by the time the last of my escort were cut down. I and I alone remained standing. I was exhausted and wounded on my left leg and right forearm.
I dimly heard a voice say, ‘this one is to be left alive.’ Then they all parted and the Pyromancer walked towards me.
King Telmar was angry, he seemed to look straight through me as he negotiated the rows of dead. Pyromantic sparks of energy rippled over his gloved hands and eventually he stopped before me. I sheathed Tragenn, knowing it was useless to fight. We stared for a while at each other, and then he tore his eyes away from my fatigued sweaty face to look at my father’s body. Recognition etched his features and his anger abated, as did the volatile energy in his hands. He looked sad and I had a twinge of pity, but only for a moment.
‘Take my life now, Godfather, just as you took your friend’s,’ I said to him sarcastically. ‘Burn us both, so that my ashes mix with my father’s.’
He turned back to me. ‘I cannot, Godson. Please forgive me, Van, but I have to put into motion the rest of our future, because without you, and your son, without the Sword that Rules, we are all doomed.’
