The Tainted Crown: The First Book of Caledan (Books of Caledan 1)

by Meg Cowley

  At that Eve was silent.

  “It is hard as an outsider to come to terms with the possibility of a life longer than those you love and it is not something you should be expected to reconcile with, especially at your young age. I would suggest you think as little of it as you can. You have many other things to consider before your lifespan becomes something to worry yourself with.

  Eve still felt unease. Her excitement had been tempered by her own unknown fate.

  Artora had evidently decided that for the moment Eve had enough to contemplate. It was nearing lunchtime and so she sent Eve out to dine in the gardens. Eve returned feeling calmer than before, though no less of an enigma. Basking in the sun and admiring the scenery had lulled her unsettled emotions.

  “You didn’t seem surprised at all when I passed you the letter from my father yesterday.” Eve thought aloud. “Why is that?”

  “I already knew,” said Artora.

  “Magic?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  Artora rose from her chair to pick up a flat, round object that had been resting on one of her many shelves. She placed it gently on the table, and Eve could see that it was in fact a finely crafted mirror with a border inset with white pearls. She peered at Artora in confusion. Artora gestured for her to stand.

  “Look into the mirror, Eve. Leitha Karn,” Artora said.

  Eve gasped as the silvered surface of the mirror, which had reflected the pale ceiling, plunged into the blackest colour. The dark swirled with deep greys and the mirror cleared sluggishly to reveal Eve’s father writing at his desk. His face was not visible.

  “Father!” Eve exclaimed. “How did you do that?”

  “I used the words of power, words from our language to seek a vision of your father as he is now in the mirror. This is how I watch the kingdoms without ever having to break the pact with the dragons by leaving my land. The word ‘leitha’ is to scry, or to see far. Use of a flat, reflective surface helps to fix the image one wishes to see. Lessa,” Artora murmured. The mirror faded back to silver, reflecting the ceiling once more.

  “That’s amazing. Can you use this to see anything anywhere?” asked Eve.

  “Within reason,” replied Artora. “You must know what you wish to seek. I could not scry a person I did not know existed in Arlyn, for example. However, if I wished to scry Arlyn itself, I would be able to see both the buildings and the people that moved through it, depending on where in the place I were looking. I might see a particular person and not knowing their name, would be able to them scry them afterwards, by picturing them very clearly in my head and directing the magic as I have just demonstrated.”

  “Can you scry Queen Naisa?” asked Eve, with a sudden stroke of inspiration.

  “No!” Artora replied sharply. “It is impossible. It has been tried before to scry the deceased, but the veil of death masks the mirror and will not relinquish a vision. Do not ever try to interfere with the dead, should you come into magic, Eve,” Artora warned, “for it is a folly that will end in your own demise. The void between this world and the next is so great that your life force would be extinguished in the fleetest of moments in the attempt to bridge it. Promise me you will never attempt it!”

  “I promise,” Eve said, taken aback.

  The queen relaxed and picked up the mirror.

  “Wait!” Eve said. “Will you scry Prince Soren?”

  “Why?” Artora’s eyes narrowed.

  “I long to see if he is well and Princess Irumae too. They are my cousins and had I not been bound to come here I would have been determined to find Soren. Please will you show me if he is alive?”

  “Very well,” said the queen after a pause. “Leitha Soren!”

  The mirrors surface flooded with black, as before, and cleared. They could see Soren riding on horseback along a rutted, earthy track as leafy green trees raced past. Another horse galloped beside him, with Edmund on his back.

  From what could be seen of their faces, they both had a determined air, but when Eve caught a glimpse into her cousin’s eyes, she shivered. She saw a strange steely glint that had never been there before; a testament to his recent trials. Nevertheless, to all intents and purposes, he was alive and Edmund once more with him.

  “Lessa.”

  “I wonder where they journey to,” Eve said.

  “I have my suspicions,” Artora remarked, “though I may not share them with you. He will have a great task at hand if he is to reclaim the throne. Take heart; he is alive and Edmund is with him.”

  “You know Edmund?” said Eve with raised eyebrows.

  “Quite well. There is much that you will not know of Sir Edmund.” She smiled. “He has visited my realm many times across the years, with news from Pandora. In any case, it is too late to follow them instead of returning home, if that was your intention.”

  Eve blushed. “I had thought of going to find them. I’m reluctant to return home when I feel like there’s something I could be doing to help. I don’t know if I’m quite ready to face my father again, either. There’s so much that he hasn’t told me and I want to make sense of it all before we meet again.”

  “As I have offered before, you are quite welcome to stay for as long as you wish.”

  “I appreciate your generosity,” said Eve delicately. “Yet, I feel like there’s still something I should be doing. I could not stay and languish in good conscience. Are you sure you cannot tell me where the prince is going? What of Irumae? Are they going to find her?”

  Artora paused. “I cannot tell you the prince’s destination, but no, they do not go to the aid of the princess, at least not yet.” Eve opened her mouth to speak, but Artora had already guessed her intentions. “Leitha Irumae,” she spoke to the mirror.

  The blackness this time seemed slower to clear. Eve realised that it was because the vision showed a small, darkened room, lit by candles. It seemed to be windowless and constructed of stone, and was furnished well, with a rug on the floor and some comfortable looking furniture.

  On a bed in one corner lay the princess, fully dressed. She was motionless with closed eyes and her pale, vacant face was young and vulnerable in the sickly light.

  “She has been this way in this place for many days,” said Artora. “I have not seen her awaken, however we can be sure she is alive simply for the reason that I can scry her at all.”

  “I have to help her,” said Eve.

  “Are you sure that is wise?” Artora raised an eyebrow.

  “Probably not,” Eve admitted, “but I want to help. How can I stay here or return home in good conscience? Perhaps she is hurt, or injured, and perhaps she is in danger. I would feel far too guilty knowing that I might have had the chance to help her and chose not to.”

  Artora sighed. “I fear this may be your purpose, cousin. I would council against going alone however. Are you to consult your father on this and request an escort?”

  “No,” said Eve. “He would not let me go at all, let alone lend me more men. I do not want to give him the chance to stop me. I am an adult now, free to make my own decisions and this is what I decide. He will have to realise sooner or later that he cannot always keep me safe at home.”

  Artora regarded her for a moment, as if measuring her up for the task. “Are you to return your two guards to him or take them with you?” asked Artora. “You are welcome to take some of my own with you should you wish.”

  “I’m not sure,” replied Eve. “There is something about Nyle that unsettles me. Since he discovered that my mother was one of the Eldarkind, I do not feel that I can trust him anymore. As for Luke... I am fairly sure I can rely on him.”

  “Well perhaps Luke should accompany you,” suggested Artora. “I am sure a guard of Arlyn will work in your favour. As for Nyle, he can take my news to your father. I shall send two of my own guard with you if that is agreeable? Four will travel inconspicuously and I am sure you shall have need of my guards’ skills.”

  “Yes, I would l
ike that. It would give me a chance to learn much more about your people.” Eve smiled. She felt content, as though the piece of a puzzle had fitted into place and revealed more of her purpose to her. It outweighed the niggling guilt that arose from becoming distracted from her original task.

  “They are your people too,” Artora reminded her. “In that case, the necessary arrangements shall be made and you may depart the day after tomorrow.”

  Soren

  Over the coming days they rode over vast uninhabited plains, so open and wide that they felt simultaneously exposed yet insignificant. The scale of the plains meant there were no visible hills or mountains on the horizon for days. Impressive roiling cloud structures rose overhead in an imitation of the grandest human structures, yet on a much larger scale and although there were no storms, the dull, seething atmosphere made the landscape all the more imposing.

  Although the plains should have been deserted, they lit no fires at night as the light would be visible for many miles around. Despite it being somewhat windy, the weather remained warm enough to endure each night with no proper shelter, other than small hollows in the ground, where they could find them. Before sleeping each night, they clashed in quick bouts of sword practice to warm themselves up and relieve aching muscles.

  Without a fire, they had to make do with cold meals and ration the small amount of food. Along with food, Hador had given them each a crossbow with a pouch full of bolts to use both in defence and as a tool for hunting, but the plains seemed bereft of any kind of animal to hunt and supplement their meals. Only birds, flying well above their range, wheeled over the plains in great swoops.

  At last, after rising early on successive mornings and riding until late, they spied a smudge on the horizon which did not move with the clouds and solidified into a dark band of mountains marching down from the north. It took them a further day to ride within reach of the foothills, until at last the plains yielded to forests.

  The trees seemed all the more oppressive around them after days in the endless space. However, with the forests life also returned and Edmund soon shot a rabbit with his crossbow. As he tied the body to his saddlebag he grinned at Soren; the forest and the rabbit meant they could have a fire and hot meal that night.

  The rabbit meat stewed in their small cooking pot, bubbling away as it boiled whilst the stream they were camped beside babbled back at it. Edmund and Soren pored over their map as Edmund calculated their rough position.

  “There is no road from here to the coast unfortunately, although it means there is very little chance of us meeting anyone we would rather not which is advantageous,” remarked Edmund. “We will have to cut through the mountains.”

  “Where are we heading?” asked Soren. He scanned the map of the coast for the various towns along its length.

  “Harring.” Edmund pointed out a small dot on the map where east Caledan met the sea. “It’s a small town and the nearest large dwelling to the Isles of Kotyir in any case. Mostly it’s fishermen who live there, though a couple of lesser noblemen have estates in this region too.

  “This coast, for all its wild weather and relative remoteness from the rest of the kingdom, receives many visitors and tradesmen for the quality of its catches. There is superstition regarding dragons if we are to trust Hador’s advice, which could be truer than they know. This is the nearest we will travel on land, so we could hire a small boat to take us the rest of the way.”

  Soren studied the map with intrigue. He had never journeyed to the other side of the coastal mountains. A thin strip of land separated mountains from the sea – at the other side, the weather was colder and the sea both freezing and fierce at this latitude. A strange quirk in geology brought together the freezing sea with a chain of volcanic islands that had risen from the depths of the sea to above its surface over many thousands of years.

  Tales had been passed down from generation to generation about strange fire breathing mountains that could form new rocky land from glowing hot molten lava, spew out black clouds high enough to be seen for many miles and also create great and treacherous mists over the sea where many a fisherman had sailed out never to return home.

  Even stranger tales were told locally of the elusive and spectral flying beasts that had allegedly been sighted from a distance several times over the years flying around the islands that came inland with the mist to steal livestock and naughty children. As a rule the islands were avoided wherever possible, but nearby inhabitants were reluctant to move too much further away because of the uncommonly good fish stocks there.

  Soren had heard the tales once or twice as a child. With an amused smile, he realised that all along, those tales could be related to the dragons that he had so hoped to happen upon as a child. I wonder what they are like to meet in person. I wonder if they look like Brithilca. He pictured the statue once more. He began to daydream as he had when he was a boy about what it would be like to meet a strange being like a dragon, but gave it up as he realised how very little he knew of them.

  I only know of them what people have made up in books and pictures. In reality, they could be nothing alike. He found that exciting, yet at the same time disconcerting; he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

  A sharp rap of wood on metal startled him out of his reverie, but it was Edmund, who put down the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the contents of the pot. They had a quiet meal and savoured the hot, meaty broth with special appreciation.

  “A feast fit for a king.” Edmund smacked his lips in satisfaction afterwards.

  “Or a king to be, perhaps.” Soren laughed and Edmund chuckled.

  “That will have to do for this fine fare for the moment I suppose.”

  Satisfied, they fell into slumber as the small fire died and the stream rushed past. It was not until mid morning that they awoke.

  “Damn it!” Edmund cursed. “We’re late! I had hoped to be back in the saddle at dawn. That rabbit stew kept me content enough to sleep half the day away!” He kicked a stone to vent his bad temper.

  “It’s not that desperate, is it?” Soren half opened his eyes and ruffled his tangled hair as he sat up.

  “Not that desperate?” said Edmund. “Well if you call being on the run from a mad man and on our way to find a clan of dragons ‘not that desperate’ then perhaps we ought to go back to sleep?”

  “I take it back.” Soren yawned. “We can still make good progress today, can’t we?”

  “Yes, though not as much as I had hoped.”

  They travelled through a flat valley that carved the thin mountain range almost in two, following the course of the stream that soon joined a river, against the current. High peaks towered on either side. The valley was barren, with a rough gravelly base and a thin line of trees separated the valley bottom from the bare grey rocks which soared up and out of sight. As they rose to the river’s source, climbing above the dispersed trees, they forded the river. Soren noted with surprise the icy coolness of the water despite it being summer.

  “It’s so cold!” he exclaimed to Edmund above the noise of running water and the horse hooves clattering on the loose gravel.

  “It’s fresh melt water from the glaciers,” called Edmund. “They are so high they remain frozen all year!”

  Wow. They must be high indeed, Soren realised. I hope one day I am at leisure to explore. For all my freedoms, I have spent far too much time in the city.

  As they pressed on, mounting a small summit, the land fell away before them, giving a view all the way to the coast. Although the weather was overcast, the steely grey-blue waters in the distance stretching into the murky horizon were impressive. Edmund allowed Soren a minute’s appreciation of the view before he urged him on.

  “Come,” he encouraged. “We need to be out of the mountains by sunset and we only have a few hours remaining of good light.”

  Edmund

  They had less time than Edmund anticipated. As they followed a smaller river in a rocky valley even barer than
the last, the skies which had darkened since they began their descent started to drizzle and then rain until Edmund, Soren and their horses were soaked.

  When they had descended almost to sea level, the mountains fell away to either side revealing faint lights far ahead in the distance that Edmund confirmed to be Harring. Shivering and teeth chattering, Edmund had never been so glad to see such a miserable looking place.

  There was nowhere adequate to shelter overnight and so Edmund lead them into Harring. It was a muddled cluster of buildings, so dismal in the rain and dark that Edmund suspected even sunshine could not brighten it up. Harring had two inns but a small lamp caught their attention before they could decide which one to enter.

  Its light shone on a damp notice pinned to a board and to their dismay, it depicted a very good likeness of both Edmund and Soren, with a huge reward for their capture. Edmund’s relief at the prospect of a dry place to sleep vanished. Fear flashed through him.

  “What are we to do?” asked Soren in a low voice. “We cannot stay here; we’ll be recognised.”

  “I am not sure,” replied Edmund. “I did not think Zaki would resort to this.” He is more thorough than I anticipated. “However, we have both grown rather unkempt since we left and can pass for others against these pictures; our hair is shaggy, my beard is unkempt and even you have some stubble. Our clothes are in a foul state and even our fine horses look less than noble.”

  “Surely the risk is too great, but, if we do not stay here, where will we go?” Soren said.

  Edmund hesitated. We could camp outside the town. He dismissed the idea; there was little shelter to be found and no woods marked on the maps that could hide them. “I cannot tell whether this is foolish. With your consent we shall stay the night.”

  The prince thought for a moment, before agreeing.

  “It will do us better to be warm and fed for a night, and the horses also, given what we are to attempt next. We shall risk it.” Edmund suppressed the feeling of relief at Soren’s response. You’re growing soft in your old age, old man, he chastised himself, hoping he had not made a mistake.