The Rawn Chronicles Book Four: The Dragon and the Daemon (The Rawn Chronicles Series 4)

by P D Ceanneir

  Following the incident with the Brethac Korzac, and the daring rescue of the kidnapped Wyvern, they made Tia an honourary member of the Wyvern Filial. After that moment, the cold reserve that the Falesti females normally hid behind finally thawed and they mingled more with the male crew. Nevertheless, some protocol should still be adhered too; in short, they let their hair down but did not let it untangle.

  Tia and Debdil had formed a closeness that Maleene frowned upon. They were inseparable. She wished to curb their desires for each other, but they both formed a friendly trio with the prince and no matter what she knew and felt for the De Proteous, she respected him greatly. Queen Bronwyn had given her the task of looking after Prince Havoc and Maleene had suspected for some time that there was more than just fondness for the prince in her liege’s eyes. Still her task was simple enough, the prince and his Paladins had a knack of looking after themselves.

  After the escape from the Assassi Citadel, the Ri had interpreted the Skrol rubbings he and her sister, Jilkyn, had made from the cenotaph. After being waylaid by the discovery of a rare Oculus Tower that had kidnapped Tia and the prince, they set a course northeast to the Hinterland, a cold land of mountain and ice where they met the famous Marauder Doom, Elric Stormstrider, who took them to Sjardhiem where they discovered the Second Marker and the co-ordinates to Mortkraxnoss.

  The ship first then crossed an immense inland sea for four months, losing themselves many times in the strong crosswinds that beset the blue waters. After a time they discovered land in a series of small islands with sandy beaches. On one of these islands, they befriended a tribe of dark skinned semi-naked warriors in grass skirts who were friendly enough and generously invited them to their small township of mud huts. The muggy air meant that most of the party that went ashore wore very little; the female natives stared in curiosity at Maleene and Tia in their short leather skirts and tight strapless green tops, but were positively agog at the muscle bound giant form of Little Kith.

  A brackish soup, offered to them from a huge black cauldron, was tasty and filling. Maleene and Velnour, whom she was sitting beside at the time, both went back for seconds. Her guts churned at the memory of the thick bubbling waters of the broth as she dished some into her bowl with the wooden ladle and Velnour’s gasp of horror as a human hand floated to the surface.

  They left the island rather quickly after that.

  Over the past few months, their journey took them to many ports and observed many wondrous cities on their travels. They met the Emperor of the Fel’yin, and admired his collection of the pickled heads of his eighteen wives. They visited the Garden people of Mount Kirrl with their tiered gardens that piled so high on the mountain that its summit disappeared into the clouds. They flew over the Fire Island of Keva Falme, but never saw the Lava People that were supposed to inhabit it.

  They had spent a much-deserved month’s sojourn at the high monastery of the Jehu Chi Monks before travelling on to the city of Trilmex. The all-male peace loving, faith-healing monks were travellers also and made maps of the lands they visited. Lord Ness and the young navigator, Orlam, busied themselves endlessly as they pored over the hundreds of maps in the monastery library. They discovered that the monks had found the place they sought, the valley of the Elementals, which they called Ternquin of Assassi.

  Unfortunately, the route there was lost, as part of the library burnt to the ground due to the monks being constantly invaded my local mountain bandits called the Thini. Prince Havoc, his Paladins and the Falesti Infantry under Thane Garnet, put a stop to the Thini raids for the last time. However, four of the infantrymen died against the much larger enemy. The whole escapade was a complete success. Sir Furran received a slight wound in the shoulder during the encounter, though Maleene bathed his cuts.

  The doughty Paladin has had an effect on her that she would not reveal to the others. She had to admit that she was becoming fond of Sir Furran, although she had to say to herself repeatedly he was not the kind of man she would usually like even if she had not taken a vow of celibacy, but his cheeky smile grew on her.

  She understood many regarded the princes Paladins as heroes back home yet they were the most ordinary and down to earth group of men she had ever met. The twins, Foxe and Hexor, had amazing singing voices and often sung with the Wyvern on a boring evening during the long hauls between ports. It was a joy to hear male tenors in the background of a Falesti love song. Little Kittle was adored by all of the females on board. It seemed strange to Maleene that the women of the Eternal Forest had always liked tall men, their own men folk were of medium height, but this was not to their shame. Commander Powyss was an excellent dancer and Maleene found him a pleasure to talk to, he exuded much charm. So too did Major Velnour with his silky black curly hair and the green eye patch that was a present from the Atyd Morden. The most pleasant of all the Paladins was Gunach the dwarf, he had a way of answering your problems with a knowing comment, and to Maleene, was far more intelligent than he seemed. All on board spoke of him fondly, mostly because his hearth room was the warmest part of the ship and everyone congregated there to watch him work and keep out of the chill.

  She thought about going to the hearth room now and was heading there when a loud thump surprised her, bringing her back to the present. On the deck beside her were pulpy pieces of a large red apple. This was a reminder to all that the ship they travelled on was alive and at this time of year the Choylorran tree, that made up the Cybeleion’s outer hull, was producing fruit. Unfortunately, the fruit fell from the horizontal sail made up of the fused leaves of the tree. Maleene could see the venous pattern of thin branches and twigs that gave the said structure to give it strength and flexibility. She also noticed that the heavy apples weighed some of the sail down. Luckily, it was nearing the end of its season and the cold climate they travelled through would stop the fruiting process. Nevertheless, Captain Danyil had ordered all deck hands to wear helmets or skillets when up top until the last of the apples fell. He even strung out a thin fishing net under the sail to catch the fruit; the one at Maleene’s feet was just outside the net in question.

  She ignored her growling stomach, picked up the pieces of apple, and threw them overboard. She noticed that they had left the land of pine forests far behind and now travelled over tall rugged grey spires of rocks. She pulled her furs closer together when she saw the rocks dusted with a thin layer of snow. She left the railing and walked to one of the doors of the aft castle.

  Suddenly a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and hauled her off her feet; something red and heavy missed her head by a couple of inches and smashed into white chunks on the deck.

  ‘Well that could have been nasty, Mistress Maleene,’ said a familiar voice. She turned to look into the face of Sir Furran and then untangled from his arms, pushing herself away.

  ‘It would have been, you fool, if you had squeezed the life out of me!’ The Paladins smile faltered. Maleene knew she should have been grateful to Furran. She had no helmet on after all and the large apples were heavier than they seemed, but she would not give the captain the satisfaction of her gratitude even though she was grateful.

  Sir Furran wore his full armour as all of the Paladins did when they were on night watch. Captain Danyil explained to the prince that it was the responsibility of the crew officers to stand deck duties, but the prince insisted that his friends share in the duties, even he, Lord Ness, Powyss, and recently Tia had accompanied the junior officers on night watch. This act endeared them to the crew and if Maleene was honest, it made her feel safer at night. Stories of brave acts and daring followed the prince and the Paladins from their time in the Raider Campaign to the days of the quest. The young deck officers heard most of these as they accompanied the knights on night watch, and the tales spread around the men of the crew. It became a standard event of an evening for the men to ask the young officers all about the war and the Paladins part in it all.

  Maleene had heard most of the stories and felt awed by the l
ife of the prince. One of the cabin boys called Opeac, a Sonoran by birth, asked her repeatedly about anything she had heard of the tales and her part in the rescue of the Wyvern from the Brethac creatures. Opeac had collected stories from everyone and was collating them into a book. He also wrote poems about the prince’s endeavours and was totally infatuated by legends that had spread about the Blacksword. On an evening, it was not usual for Opeac to read from his book of poems to the officers and the prince often complimented him on his talent.

  ‘My apologies, Mistress Maleene,’ said Furran with a serious look on his face as he flourished her with a deep bow. ‘I should have allowed the fruit to fall and witness death by apple.’ Maleene tried not to smile. She noted that the grin had returned to the captain’s lips and mischievous glint to his eye. She forced herself to relax a little.

  ‘Ah well, I thank you, my fault for not wearing my skillet,’ she said.

  ‘Are you feeling better? You look pale, is my bracelet not working? There was a genuine look of concern on his face. Furran referred to a charm bracelet he had picked up in the Fel’yin regions. It was moulded blossom leaves in gold and silver inset with rubies and was said to ward away illness. He had given it to her when she came down with food poisoning, but she had to admit it was more likely the doctor’s remedy of herbal drafts she was taking every day that was curing her.

  ‘Yes, it’s working fine,’ she said. She was not exactly lying to him, after all, it was a nice gift and it was sweet of the captain to be concerned for her health. ‘This is the first time I have been on deck in days,’ she said.

  ‘Fresh air will do you good, you should also try something to eat as well,’ he said.

  It struck Maleene that the Paladin was quite a thoughtful man when he was not jesting every time she met him. Her eyes flicked to the starboard side and the tips of the granite stacks seemed closer. She could see them over the rail.

  ‘My, we are close to those rocks,’ she pointed out to the captain. Furran looked for a few seconds and nodded.

  ‘Helmsman,’ he shouted to the crew hand on the wheel. ‘Mind your distance.’ The duty officer was standing next to the helmsman. He looked over the side to where Furran was indicating. Even though the Cybeleion was running at a little more than minimum speed and floating high above the ground, standard procedure was to have a man up on the crow’s nest and spotters with torches on the bow when travelling through dense fog and the fog here was becoming very dense.

  The light from the officer’s torch did not pierce the mist, but he ordered the helmsman to keep her straight and slow to a crawl. He was so intent on the starboard side that he failed to see the huge black hulking mass that appeared though the whiteness of the fog right in front of the bow.

  Maleene only had time to shout a warning when Furran’s strong arms wrapped around her for the second time that morning. This time he pulled her to the ground.

  The helmsman heard the Wyvern leader scream and saw the hull of another Sky Ship in front of him, luckily the junior officer’s order to slow down gave him enough time to pull the wheel sharply around so the Cybeleion pitched at a steep angle to starboard. The unknown ship at the bow now moved from his sight to his left, but was still close enough to hit the port side of his own vessel. Thankfully, the Choylorran ability to self-repair was more like a human bone knitting together so that it became stronger than normal bone when fully healed. As a result, the port side, which had taken damage during the Sky Ships crash in the Mubean Desert, was stronger than the starboard side and the trees deep red resin that covered the hull was now thicker. The Cybeleion juddered as she hit the other ship and the black hull scraped along her port side. Damage to the Cybeleion was minor, just a thick scratch in the resin armour that could be repaired, but the other vessels hull shattered into splinters as its hull disintegrated. Debris rained down around Maleene and Furran and the Wyvern heard the captain grunt as some large planks hit his back as he covered her with his body.

  The crew were wide-awake now, and running on deck in whatever nightshirts and breeches they slept in. All of them had a weapon in their hands even if they shivered in the frigid air.

  The Paladins and Falesti infantry split-up to each side of the ship as they were trained to do in case the Sky Ship was being boarded. Prince Havoc, with bare chest wearing black leather trousers and no boots rushed on deck with his sword in his hand and a ruffle haired Tia behind him. He saw Furran still lying on top of Maleene and smiled at him.

  ‘Can’t I leave you alone for one minute?’ said the prince.

  ‘Ah well, you know me boss, women just find me irresistible.’ With that wry comment, all the warm feelings Maleene had for the captain dissipated into the cold morning mist.

  ‘What in the name of Qui-Aqua’s fins is going on?’ Captain Danyil shouted to the duty officer.

  ‘We hit something sir,’ said the shocked officer with a pale face. Havoc did not know if he was scared of the captain or at what had hit the ship.

  ‘Details, you fool!’ Danyil said as he looked over the side.

  ‘Ah, um, sir?’ said the helmsman in a small voice as he stared at the Orrinn Tower, but the captain was not listening to him.

  ‘It came out of nowhere,’ said the officer, ‘it looked like another Sky Ship, but it’s wrecked and deserted.’

  ‘A what?’ everyone looked into the thick fog but could not see anything. Hexor and Linth both shouted out to the other ship and everyone stayed quiet, but the only sound that returned was an echo of their hails.

  ‘We are close to rocks, captain,’ informed Furran who was slightly confused at getting the cold shoulder from Maleene.

  ‘Captain, sir,’ said the helmsman again, although if anyone was listening, no one acknowledged him. They were too busy looking over the starboard side as more debris floating by. Mouths dropped open in amazement as a broken mast complete with crows-nest and a grey ragged sail toppled end over end in front of their eyes.

  ‘I’ve seen it all now. How on earth is a mast able to float in the air without the use of Wind Orrinns?’ said Powyss who was still in his nightshirt.

  ‘All stop, helmsman,’ said Danyil.

  ‘Sir, I can’t.’

  ‘Why not, man?’ boomed the captain and fixed the helmsman with a frown.

  ‘Because the Orrinns have deactivated themselves, sir,’ he said.

  Havoc walked up to the main Orrinn Tower on the ships bridge, Lord Ness joined him.

  ‘Orrinns can’t deactivate while the ship is in the air, the Skrol on the tower forbids it,’ said the Ri, ‘more importantly, if the Orrinns are deactivated, then why are we still floating above the ground?’

  Havoc shrugged, he put his hand on the tower, closed his eyes, and mumbled intelligibly to the Orrinn in its cradle at the top of the iron tower. Lord Ness was one of the few who knew the prince had a unique ability to control Orrinns. The correct term was Rule, his sword, the Sword that Rules, gave him that ability, as well as helping him to understand the subconscious language of Skrol.

  Havoc frowned, ‘It’s trying to sleep,’ he said, ‘it thinks it’s on the ground because something from the earth has caused it to suspend the output of Wind.’

  ‘It thinks? But Orrinns don’t think, my lord,’ said Captain Danyil as he listened closely to their conversation.

  ‘I’m afraid they do, captain,’ said Ness Ri. ‘Like all Elemental Orrinns, Wind Orrinns are just thoughts trapped in stone by their My’thos creators. We believe that the Old Gods used the Elemental Orrinns purely as aids to their work of healing the Earth Mother during their war with the Dark Force of the Earth. Something must be pre-programmed into these Orrinns to deactivate for a reason.’

  Havoc pulled his hand away from the iron tower; he opened his eyes and looked about him.

  ‘It’s something to do with the Dragon Lanes, but Dragon Lanes with a difference. Have you ever heard of an Epicentre, master?’ said the prince.

  ‘Yes, a very rare occurrence. It’s whe
n the earth energies are charged by strong heavy metal ores in the rock bed or in mountains, usually strong concentrations of uranium or plutonium, but the crossover of the conduits must be at such a concentrated level to produce the vast quantity of energy to form what is known as a Magnetic Gravity Flux.’

  ‘Energy enough to cause instant entropy to the Orrinns if they are allowed to stay active,’ said Havoc, ‘that’s why they have been pre-programmed to switch off.’ He took his masters arm and pulled him away from the captain, both men looked over the side of the ship.

  ‘The Blacksword can see a mass of Dragon Lane energy in this valley, but it’s not tinged yellow as normal, it’s more a dark blue and the volatile energies are rife. This flux is so strong it’s keeping us afloat and the narrowness of the valley is concentrating it.’ Even as the prince spoke, he could see that the rock stacks were getting closer to the ship. Momentum was keeping them moving, but for how long?

  ‘What do you suggest? Ness Ri asked.

  ‘Well I could sacrifice one of the Orrinns by deprogramming it and allow us to move quicker through this. However, that is a last resort. I don’t know how far we have come through and how far there is left to go, so for now we shall have to find another way.’ Through the white fog, they could see more debris floating by, rope, rotten and frayed, a lid of a sea chest with a brass lock, several ornate chairs, and a half-finished bottle of wine that poured its contents into the air as it spun. Havoc realised that this strange place was timeless, without weight and meaning. It reminded him of the mist covering the Dragorsloth he and Powyss travelled through, long ago.

  He watched as the ragged length of rope hit against one of the rock stacks and then a plan came to him. He turned around to see that everyone was there watching him and the Ri speaking together

  ‘So what’s happening, Boss?’ Velnour asked as if he was the chosen spokesperson for the entire crew.