by P D Ceanneir
The battle was over by the time the sun reached its zenith and the prince spent the rest of the day on the field while the prisoners moved their dead to funeral pyres.
Over to the west, the townspeople of Cosshead stood on the beaches outside the north gates and watched their houses burn to the ground.
Queen Bronwyn had arranged a victory banquet in the Round Tower’s main hall. All of the prince’s senior officers were there with the queen sitting at the top table beside him. Dolmen was also there with a very disgruntled Baron Kellan. Elkin got the place of honour of the seat next to the prince. The Vallkyte prisoners were under close guard in the Ifor barracks by Havoc’s army. His Bellmen had permission to wander freely around the hamlet; Elkin had promised the prince their good behaviour and the prince knew they would keep to their leader’s orders.
Havoc found out from the old general that fortune favoured him in the Battle of Cosshead. A Vallkyte Senior-Captain called Tolbert had argued with the general to attack. Elkin had refused knowing that Havoc’s archers gave him the tactical advantage and he was concentrating on pulling the Raiders away from the hillocks.
‘So the idiot did not listen to me and rode with his cavalry to a fool’s death, leaving my left flank wide open,’ said Elkin, his cheeks going a bit ruddy with the baron’s red wine as he quaffed from a silver goblet.
‘Ahh... but general,’ said Havoc pointing to Mad-gellan and Velnour in turn, ‘there are the true victors of Cosshead! Major Gellan lord of the Multan Nithi and Captain Velnour, formally of the Tattoium Militia, without them it would be a different battle.’
The general stood, raised his glass and saluted them. Havoc liked the old man he was modest in defeat.
‘Mad-gellan I have heard of,’ said Elkin respectfully, ‘and I apologise, captain for being rude to you, you rode well.’ Velnour was embarrassed and waved away the generals apology.
‘Foul deception!’ said Kellan, scornfully, ‘that’s no way to win a battle.’
‘Did the Vallkytes think of deception or winning when they exiled my people?’ Havoc said frowning, ‘did they think about glory of battle when they impaled my sisters and cousins?’
The questions were a conversation stopper; silence surrounded the baron as all eyes rested on him, including his sons. The old baron averted his gaze from the De Proteous. Bronwyn placed her hand on he prince’s arm to calm him.
‘Lord Ness, can you bring in Bellthua please,’ said the prince. Everyone looked around confused. The Ri soon returned with a beautiful seventeen-year-old girl with light brown hair and dark eyes. She was one of the girls that the Blacksword rescued from the cargo ship. Lord Ness, positioned with guards just outside the Limeshoal Gap, had found her and the others, after they crossed the dunes through the darkness of the early morning. He had escorted them to Ifor after the battle, where they bathed, ate, and were given a change of clothes by the women of the hamlet. Since their arrival, they had been enjoying the comforts of the Baron’s Roundhouse and their sad tale had spread amongst many in the small town.
‘Everyone, this is Bellthua of the Jertiani, she has informed Lord Ness that she, and a dozen others, were on one of the trade ships heading to Dulan-Tiss.’ Havoc let that sink in.
‘Why Dulan-Tiss of all places?’ asked Bronwyn.
The girl answered, ‘we were to be sold as slaves to rich Vallkyte nobles.’ There was silence for a while.
Mad-gellan got up and approached the girl who flinched away from him as she saw his shaved tattooed head, recognising him as Nithi.
‘It’s alright; I will not hurt you,’ he said with a kind smile, ‘who sent you on the ship, was it a Nithi lord called Mad-daimen?’ he asked her.
She nodded, cringing at the name. ‘Vallkytes lords too, from the Rogun citadel, my whole village was destroyed,’ tears welled in her eyes.
‘So is this now Vallkyte policy,’ said Havoc to Kellan, ‘to organise a slave trade?’
The baron flinched at the question, ‘I did not know...my lord...I had no dealings with trade authorities... I’m an honourable man... but this...’ he stuttered.
‘I will vouch for the baron, your highness,’ interrupted Elkin, I had no idea either.’
‘It could have been a one off, Boss,’ said Mad-gellan, ‘extra money to line Mad-daimen’s purse, ‘he turned back to the girl, ‘I will do all I can to help you, that’s a promise.’
‘Tell me girl,’ said the general, ‘just out of curiosity, how’d you escaped the ship?’
She looked fearful at first, then smiled, ‘the Blacksword, sir, the Blacksword saved us all, if it was not for him we would surely be dead.’
‘I thought so, I saw him, he’s the one who fired the warships,’ said Elkin. Strangely, from Havoc’s point of view, everyone looked at Verkin, still pale and quiet at the end of the table.
‘Well then,’ said Ness Ri, who was the only one staring at Havoc ‘the Blacksword seems to be human after all.’
Havoc ordered the women and their children into the hall to join the feast. They were timid at first, but his officers were kind and behaved like true gentlemen. The presence of Queen Bronwyn was also a mollifying influence on them and soon they danced to flute music with the men. All fears from their past were forgotten, for now.
After the banquet, Havoc accompanied General Elkin to his quarters and they talked into the night with a bottle of Keveni rice-wine.
‘Just to let you know,’ said the general with a slight slur, ‘I never agreed to this war, I was called back to service a year ago.’
‘Why do you fight then?’
‘Money mainly, I’m broke, my tenant’s rents at Storridge are just enough to pay the Vallkyte taxes. Plus my sons fight for Kasan, I’m too young to retire now, I’ve always known I’ll die in battle, someday.’
‘You could always come with me; my uncle will not keep you in his favour because of Crosshead’s destruction, my father will reward you, with lands if necessary. We could use a good officer like you.’
The general laughed, ‘silver tongued just like your father, yes I know King Vanduke, fought with him in the wars against Baron Telmar when I was younger,’ he shook his head, ‘you fought well today boy, you are a warlord, I see it in your eyes,’ Havoc felt embarrassed at the compliment.
‘Well I only did what you told me to do in your books on tactics,’ he said shifting, uncomfortably in his seat.
‘What! You didn’t read that pile of shit, did you?’ the general looked hurt.
‘It’s required reading at the academy.’ Havoc was surprised.
‘It’s got nothing to do with me, I should never have put my name to it, but I needed the money.’
‘You mean you never wrote it?’ the prince said a little shocked.
‘Good god’s no, do you think I would tell everybody my secrets?’
Both men laughed. They sat in silence for a while supping the fine wine. Then the general got up to pour more wine into each goblet.
‘Are you privy to any intelligence from my uncle and his councillors?’ asked Havoc.
Elkin finished pouring the light red liquid into his goblet and he shrugged as he sat down again. ‘Kasan and I never really saw eye to eye on many matters of state, He’s even threatening to take my lands of Storridge from me because I wanted my sons to join the Bellmen, yet he wanted them in Dulan-Tiss.’
‘Why?’
Elkin sighed, ‘secrets and devious politics is my only answer, your highness. I’ve known for some time that there is a large amount of nobles meshed into a secret order that is so obscure, I know not what it is called, but it has the power to manipulate royal policy and create false wars.’ The general was staring hard at the prince as he spoke.
‘You speak of the War of the Wildlands, the conflict that started this whole civil war?’
‘I do,’ nodded the general.
‘So my uncle accomplished this remarkable feat with the help of others?’
‘Many others,’ Elkin held up his hand
to ward away the prince’s next question, ‘I do not know who. If I was a part of this order then I would know, but I am not. What I do know is they are powerful enough to hide their intentions and brainwash my sons against me.’
Havoc frowned, ‘I’m sorry about your sons, Elkin.’
‘I appreciate that. At least I know they are alive. In a way, I feel they are already lost to me,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘We have all lost many loved ones in this war,’ said Havoc in a near whisper and Elkin saw the pained look on the young man’s face. He decided to change the subject.
‘So, my lord, what are your plans now?’ Elkin asked in an upbeat tone.
‘Plans, Lord Elkin?’ Havoc stared off into the corner of the room, still with that look of anguish, ‘my plan is to change the balance of power, by going home.’
Part Three
Paradise
Found
“Take no joy in your victories
For pride comes
Before the fall”
Elkin’s Battle Tactics and Strategies vol. 1
Lord Elkin of Storridge
“One thing is for certain. Drakken are an abomination!”
The Elder Styx
“I have seen the face of Death
He held aloft the Sword that Rules
Cloaked in wings of ravens
Their darkness enshrouded him
And we were left to cower in his wake”
Excerpt from the Shako War Mantle Prophecies
By Ulna Gi’Almut
Summerland Amon
Circa 1050 YOA
Chapter 18
Dragonstalker
What everyone thought was a healthy baby boy, was stillborn.
Queen Molna tried not to cry, but she did anyway. It was a life after all even if she hated the father. Molna feared the look that Kasan would give her when he found out, she felt like a failure.
The king was in a bad mood now for the past month. However, the news that he received from his spies kept her spirits high. Havoc had defeated Zolar’s army near the Great Marsh; he had also defeated the great General Elkin and burnt the Vallkyte Navy and Cosshead to ashes.
When the king did arrive he said nothing to her. He looked at the cloth bundle lying next to her head. The midwife had wrapped the child up in a woollen shawl, and cleaned the infant’s lovely face of blood and birth fluid. There was silence from all in the room.
‘You are still beautiful,’ mumbled the king to Molna, and then Cinnibar walked in. The Sonoran Queen quietened her sobbing with soothing words of endearment; she brushed her hair back from her brow and then Molna fell asleep at her touch.
The sleep was fitful, the feeling of Cinnibar’s cold hand on her brow reminded her of the time she touched her pregnant stomach, that day outside Shank’s cell.
Did she kill my baby? Why would she do such a thing?
Why was the queen still in Dulan-Tiss? This was an unusually long time for her to stay. Was she waiting for the child to be born?
After that day at the prison she had worried for Shanks, she felt no fear for herself for she visited many prisoners in the dungeon, but Shank’s was a vulnerable soul. On the next morning of Cinnibar’s visit, she called in on him as she did her rounds. He was staring silently at the Skrol walls lost in one of his fugue states; he would be like that for days.
His memory would come back in fragments; however, he lacked concentration to piece them altogether, although he confessed to her that he had forgotten how to become a Pyromancer.
She was relieved at that.
The Circle of Dulan was a stop-off point for Ri’s travelling the Drift, being so conveniently close to the Vallkyte capital. Two Havants’ stood outside the circle of ten tall Saracen stones. Both were young females, hoods of their purple cloaks concealed their faces, swords strapped to their backs in Battle Ready style. These two women were rare in the word of the Rawn Arts for they were soon to be Rawn Masters, only the fire element eluded them.
Tia and Serena held hands as they stared at the tall monoliths. both were sisters in the order but not in blood. Tia, young and innocent, had a kind and uniquely inquisitive nature, overshadowed by her cold and clinical skill with a blade. Serena, on the other hand, acted the all-knowing big sister, brash and overbearing. She was by far the more beautiful of the two and harboured an arrogant contempt for men.
‘Why have we come here do you think?’ Tia asked. The wind tugged at her cloak, she was scanning the brooding clouds above. A storm was heading their way.
‘Probably to help summon dragons,’ said Serena in a deadpan voice.
Tia flinched and turned to stare at the other girl; she could not see if her expression was mocking from behind her cowl.
‘The summoning of dragons is illegal,’ said Tia, ‘it has not been done for over two thousand five hundred years. Not since the time of the Dragor-rix.’
‘Doesn’t mean to say it can’t be done. Who cares about laws these days,’ she shrugged.
The wind picked up, bending the sea of tall grass that grew over the vast plain, lights from the citadel shimmered in a hallo above the buildings in the distance. The clouds that hung over the citadel looked menacing as it was blown in from the sea by a westerly gust.
‘Yes, but you need a Ri to summon one, don’t you?’
‘In the past, only the Eldi had the power to summon dragons, although I believe Saltyn Ri will tell us,’ said Serena looking down the path to the citadel, ‘that’s probably why he’s coming here.’
Tia looked around. Sure enough, Saltyn Ri, the Kings Consul, was making his way to the circle. White robes flapped at his legs, his hands tucked into his sleeves and his sword-staff in the crook of his left arm. He nodded to the girls as he approached.
‘Tia, Serena, well met,’ he said to them in turn, the girls pulled down their hoods.
‘Master Ri,’ they both said together, each with a sly grin.
Saltyn Ri felt uncomfortable with these two. Ri’s were forbidden to have sexual relationships, but this was not the reason for his growing concerns. Before becoming a Ri he had many lovers. Now his love of the Rawn Arts and the Derma-Ken worship was all-consuming.
Both girls were of the same height and petite in stature. Tia, with her short light brown hair and doe like brown eyes exuded an aura of friendly innocence about her. While Serena’s oval face, although beautiful, was at times harsh if she did not smile. Her cold blue eyes and high cheekbones were framed by a bob of blonde hair.
No, what made the Ri uneasy with these two was that he saw through their female wares and there beautiful looks, for these two were Cinnibar’s bodyguards, and trained killers.
‘Why has your mistress summoned us here?’ Saltyn asked.
‘We were wondering that ourselves, my lord,’ said Serena her voice teasing him with its allure.
Not long after the Ri’s arrival, three other figures walked up the road from the capital. Cinnibar with her purple robe trailing on the ground was clearly the tallest. She carried a white woollen bundle under her arm. King Kasan and his champion Sir Udren flanked her on each side. The king was in a sombre mood, more sombre than usual. His face pale and head bowed, and he walked slightly back from the others as if he wished to be elsewhere
Saltyn Ri wondered why the champion was here, but of course he had the confidence of the king.
‘Ahh...Saltyn, you are here, good, please be so kind as to activate the rings. The other four, can go to the points,’ said Cinnibar. The others did as she said and moved around the ring to the four points of the compass.
So that is why Udren was here, thought the Ri to make up the numbers for the points, but why?
The queen placed the bundle on the knee-high stone dais in the centre of the ring of tall Saracens
‘If you wish me to transport something,’ said Lord Saltyn, ‘I can do it easily; we do not require anyone to contain the energies at the points. Little residue energy is lost while using the Drift.’
‘Tia, Serena, remember what I have taught you,’ said Cinnibar ignoring the Ri, ‘concentrate on keeping the magnetic flow within the circle. Earth and Water Elements are imperative for the transmutation.’
‘Yes mistress,’ said the girls together as they stood at their points east and west.
‘Transmutation,’ frowned Saltyn Ri, ‘your majesty what...?’
Cinnibar cut him off, ‘activate the circle Saltyn,’ she snapped, the Ri stepped back from the venom in the queens voice, Cinnibar’s eyes looked dark under her creased frown. The rumble of thunder in the distance signalled the rain to begin.
‘As you wish,’ Saltyn Ri waved his hand over the Skrol etchings of the nearest stone. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on all four Rawn Elements. Once they were merged together as a small shimmer of near-invisible energy in the palm of his hand, he touched the stones surface. The result on the tall monoliths was a brilliant pulse of light from within each stone for a second then the soft hum of the energy throbbing through them and the ground trembled.
‘There, it is done,’ Lord Saltyn watched the queen intently.
‘Hold on, Aunt Cinnibar,’ said the king from the north point, ‘are we sure we want to do this?’
‘I’ am sure, Kasan! We both agreed to this; it only needs your permission. Do you want to stop your nephew before he destroys all of the Brethac Orders plans?’ the king hesitated as he looked at the bundle on the dais. ‘If you think that the Rogun De Proteus is a threat to you,’ continued Cinnibar, ‘then know this Kasan, the Blacksword is a threat to us all, don’t let your son’s death be for nothing, make it worthwhile.’
‘Blacksword,’ Saltyn was startled, ‘what is...?’
