by P D Ceanneir
As the day wore on, the cavalry stopped their attacks and followed their enemy as they headed to the Jertiani border. It would be several days later, when the Roguns in the citadel heard of events from a messenger sent by General Balaan.
Mad-daimen, and his much depleted army, raided the homes of the Jertiani for supplies. Balaan and a host of two thousand men learnt of the Nithi lord’s whereabouts from the Jertiani survivors and they swooped down from the hills, which rose up nearby, attacking the Nithi lords host near a little village called Merit Howe. The battle was more of a skirmish, but Mad-daimen came off worse losing more men. He then retreated into the safety of his own Wildlands to lick his wounds and survive another day.
Havoc personally knew that Mad-daimen and his brother would obviously survive, because he still had the Nithi daggers to give back to them as the prophecy dictated. It was a time in his future that he would relish.
City officials found Commander Zerkis hiding in one of the townhouses in the Baronstown. A gang of well-armed civilians dragged him to the Market-town gate and handed him over to a much-amused Gunach, whose dwarves had stayed to secure the citadel while Prince Magnus sallied from the east gates. A dark and dank cell welcomed the commander next to General Plysov.
A jubilant crowd of citizens welcomed King Vanduke and Prince Havoc as they entered the citadel with their victorious armies. Crowds lined the route from the east gate to the walled entrance of the palace grounds. Women and children reached out their hands to the passing warriors wishing to touch them for good luck.
Havoc heard the shouts and murmurs as he passed, “that’s Prince Havoc, he’s returned!” or “our saviour, bless you my lord, bless you”.
He felt so happy he could burst.
King Vanduke ordered the fittest civilians to help his soldiers take the dead Vallkytes from the citadel and pile them up on the plain. Then several Rawn Masters, including Havoc and Powyss accompanied Lord Ness as they burnt them in a huge pyre. The prince’s flame spread the furthest over the copses and burnt the hottest.
The small Vallkyte Navy in Naval Isle fled the safety of the port and braved the wild seas to avoid the Admiral Uriah’s fleet, which patrolled close by. The Rogun admiral let them go; he was more interested in allowing the Sonoran supply ships to land in the quays’ of the Old port.
Even though the citadel was low on food, the king still ordered a victory celebration to be organised on the second day to mark the end of the Roguns exile. It was also Havoc’s twenty-first birthday.
It was on that day that a present arrived from the peoples of the Sky Mountains. Ten cartloads of freshly killed game, swan and duck several species of deer, fish, and wild rabbit; along with livestock of cattle, sheep and caged chickens. Old Toms and his sons brought this. Eleana and her children accompanied them on the journey.
Havoc and Magnus met them at the gate. Little Havoc Valient rushed into Magnus’s arms and Magnus kissed his wife. Eleana beamed brightly at Havoc and hugged him, wishing him a happy birthday.
‘I see you kept your promise and looked after my husband,’ she said to him, ‘thank you.’
‘I’m a good babysitter,’ he said and she giggled.
Magnus turned to Old Toms, ‘did you catch all this game in one day?’ he asked jokingly.
‘Not all in one day, no. I had things to do in the morning,’ said the old man with a gummy smile.
The academy lawn became a cookhouse with canvas awnings over the tables and benches. All of the game roasted on open fires all over the area. Civilians mingled with royalty and soldiers. The king and his sons cut strips of meat from the cooked venison, that had been turning on a spit all day, and handed it out to the hungry multitude as they queued for food. Ale and wine was drunk by the gallon; musicians played while the dancers cavorted on a large wooden platform that had been quickly made by the dwarves.
There was a holiday feel about the whole day.
As the day wore on into the evening, Havoc mingled with the crowd and chatted amiably, he eventually found Magnus, Dolmen, and Elkin singing a newly penned battle song about Havoc’s victory at the Fess. He laughed at their drunken voices and Dolmen’s attempt at singing in key. He found Gunach, who complained about the weak ale, but it did not stop him drinking it. They chatted for a while until Havoc felt the affects of the alcohol and stopped drinking. Later he noticed Little Kith, Furran, and Brynd dancing with some of the local girls. He felt calm and at peace since his time at Lake Serene. However, in the back of his mind he felt the Blacksword stir.
It is not over, Havoc, you know this, he said, there is much still to do.
‘I know I don’t need you to tell me that,’ whispered Havoc.
‘Are you talking to yourself, your highness?’ said Ness Ri behind him. Havoc turned round embarrassed.
‘No I’m talking to... him.’
‘Ah, I see, well I’m glad I’ve got both of you alone,’ the remark dripped sarcasm, ‘I was wondering if you had given any thought to the quest I asked you about?’
Havoc sighed ‘to be honest master, I’ve had other things to think about.’
‘I understand, but please think on it,’ the Ri implored.
‘I will master.’
Everyone around them went silent as they saw the king climb up onto a podium and give a short speech about the harsh years in exile and his pride in both of his son’s victories in battle.
‘...Prince Magnus has proved his courage in the face of his enemies and has the stout and loyal heart of a Cromme, and if it wasn’t for the De Proteous, we would not be here today. They have also shown us the true meaning of being a Rogun. Ladies and gentlemen,’ he threw out an arm to point at his sons in turn, ‘my boys, the Royal Highnesses Prince Havoc and Prince Magnus.’
Cheers erupted all around as Havoc, and a less than sober Magnus, took the steps to the podium. Havoc waved everyone into silence. He turned to Magnus and raised an eyebrow wondering if he would like to say something first, but his younger brother merely shrugged.
‘You’re far better at speeches than I am,’ slurred Magnus, ‘the stage is yours.’
Havoc turned to the crowd of thousands of eager upturned faces. ‘Thank you all,’ he began, ‘almost five years ago I made a speech on the Rattan about vengeance and justice. It seems I have fulfilled some of that pledge.’ He looked over to his Aunt Vara in the crowd as he said this. She stared back, but not with any disapproving look. ‘But I could not do it without help,’ he placed a hand on Magnus’s shoulder, ‘Magnus may be a short curmudgeon with a taste for cheap ale…’ this got a ripple of laughter from the crowd, ‘but I love him as my brother and my constant companion through childhood.’
Magnus looked embarrassed. He stuck two fingers into his mouth and made joking retching noises, which brought more laughter from the masses. Havoc laughed and jovially pushed his brother away.
‘Seriously,’ said the prince turning to the crowd of onlookers again. ‘Destiny brought me friends that I have come to rely on and I have been negligent in repaying their loyalty. Officers of the Raiders step forwards!’ There was shuffle of movement as Havoc’s core officers pushed to the front of the crowd with baffled looks on their faces.
‘Majors Powyss, Mad-gellan, and Jericho I now promote you to commander forthwith,’ the crowd clapped and cheered, ‘Captain’s Velnour and Whyteman are now majors, Lieutenants’ Furran, Brynd, Verkin, Hexor, Foxe, Mactan, Felcon and Little Kith are hereby promoted to Captain.’ The prince stepped down from the podium and unsheathed SinDex.
‘Now for my other gift to you all, please kneel,’ the smiling faces of his officers faded as they realised what the prince intended to do. Each obediently knelt as Havoc knighted them all, tapping his sword on each shoulder and saying, ‘be a good honest Leal knight, loyal to the Rogun crown until thy dying day.’
The crowd erupted into cheers as the knighthoods finished. Their fellow soldiers congratulated all of the new knights, even though none of them could believe it had just
happened. The King’s voice roared and cheered louder than all the rest in approval.
Vara approached Havoc after the ceremony.
‘I do not think I can ever forgive you, nephew, but I understand why you did it. You have my gratitude and my love,’ she said and bowed.
Tears swam in Havoc’s eyes, ‘thank you Aunt Vara. That means a lot to me.’ They hugged each other for a long time.
Three days later, a pensive and impatient Havoc paced the corridor in front of Plysov’s cell. The torches on their iron wall brackets blazed brightly each time he passed them. He was letting his Pyromantic energy fester and churn inside him, but he did not care, he would meditate it away later.
Let me speak to him hissed the voice of the Blacksword in his head; I will get the answers you seek.
‘No! I want him compliant, not scared half to death,’ whispered Havoc through gritted teeth.
The cells oak door opened and Lord Ness walked out. He had a sad, and somewhat confused, look on his face. The moment he saw the prince he shook his head. Havoc let out an anguished sigh.
‘I cannot get beyond the mental walls of his mind,’ explained Ness Ri. Havoc had secretly asked the Ri to accompany him to the dungeons. None of his friends knew he was here, nor did his father. This was an investigation that he and Lord Ness deemed personal. Havoc wished to probe the general’s mind for the answers to this war, the main perpetrators of its execution, and this mysterious order that Elkin mentioned.
Adept as he was at using the Rawn Thought Link, Havoc knew his intrusion into the generals mind would cause brain damage, something he did not wish to happen before his trial. Explaining that to his father was not something he would relish. The king was adamant that Plysov be unharmed to face a fair hearing. So he brought Ness Ri into his confidence, his old master was far better at using the water element than he was.
‘Zerkis knows nothing, General Plysov is a different matter…are you sure he would have information about this mysterious order Elkin spoke of?’ the Ri asked.
‘He orchestrated the false war in the Wildlands on Kasan’s orders, he must know something.’
‘Something, but not all, I’m thinking,’ said Ness Ri rubbing his chin, ‘the mental block he has is quite unique for a mortal, it was placed there by a powerful Rawn Master.’
Havoc blinked, ‘really?’
The Ri nodded, ‘furthermore, I sense that a hypnotic suggestion has been placed behind it, possibly a trap to anyone like me, a Rawn, that tries to probe too far. If I did, I may end up killing him.’
‘That’s very advanced use of the water element,’ added the prince.
Ness Ri nodded, ‘it is. And that worries me; we are dealing with powerful Rawns or Ris’.’
‘That much I figured,’ sighed Havoc, ‘the question is; how deep does this go? Who is involved? Nobles? High-ranking soldiers? How could they hide this from the Ri Order? More importantly, who amongst us is in league with this mysterious order?’
His master shrugged, ‘many questions. I wish I had an answer to them all, your highness.’
They left that cold and dark corridor with more questions to answers than when they had began.
Gradually, over the course of a month, things in the city of Aln-Tiss returned to normal. However, the Burgh Lords still controlled Aln-Tiss and the king was without Queen Molna who had a way of controlling these rich trade executives.
Therefore, he hatched a plan to curb their powerful hold on his people.
The Master Smith Gunach executed the beginning of this devious ploy. Following orders from the king, he and his dwarves sneaked into the Old Port wharfs and discovered two warehouses bulging with supplies apparently undeclared by the Burgh Lords to the board of city councillors’.
The king, on hearing the news, was furious. He accused the burgh Lords of hoarding the goods from the starving population and making a profit from their suffering. He had the supplies impounded and the lords imprisoned.
The dozen fearful Burgh Lords soon found out from a source that the De Proteous was sympathetic to their plight and they begged him to ask his father for clemency. Prince Havoc officiated at the negotiating table where his father and the accused lords thrashed out a deal that was to the benefit of all.
‘Remind me never to oppose you in politics father,’ said Havoc when he got the king on his own, ‘I would rather fight a battle than dabble in affairs of state.’
‘You will find, son, that politics is just another way of fighting a battle,’ said the king, ‘although it helps to have an edge.’
‘An edge? Such as asking Gunach to plant the spare supplies in the warehouses?’ smiled Havoc.
The king feigned a hurtful look, but was clearly surprised at his son’s intuition.
‘I do all of this for you Havoc, you will be king one day and you need to control the citadel.’
The Burgh Lords controlled the city trade.
However, the king was their puppet master.
Chapter 23
The Trinkets Ball
There was a loud crack from the Plaza Ring in the centre of Sonora. Lord Sernac clad in a light red cloak fringed in silver and carrying his sword-staff, walked out of the stone circle. The pain from travelling via the Drift did not show on his face even if it could be seen through the darkness of his coul.
The guards at the entrance to the Havant Chambers did not stop him as he stomped past them and through the door. They knew better than to block his path. He took the curving stairs two at a time and silently entered the queens private rooms. He heard voices coming from the next room which housed the Cloud Orrinn. He used the shadows to enter undetected.
‘Unleash him now, the citadel is lost, and Plysov is a prisoner, unleash the Drakken and end this for me!’ the voice of King Kasan sounded angry and distant as it emitted from the Lobe Stone in Cinnibar’s hand. She looked over at the creature stroking the Cloud Orrinn with long scaly claws, it growled. The hissing of the phlegm in its throat sounded like hot popping fat.
‘In time nephew, in time, you shall have your revenge, and I mine, but I need to locate the Blacksword,’ she said.
‘Damn the Blacksword! Kill Havoc first, we know where he is,’ the kings voice growled.
‘Yes, but the main threat is the Blacksword and I know a way to find them both.’
She ended the connection and stood lost in thought for a moment.
‘I see you have found a solution to your problems,’ said Lord Sernac calmly as he stepped out of the shadows. He saw Cinnibar jump in surprise and smiled at the fact he could still creep up on even the most powerful of Rawn’s.
Cinnibar was not that surprised to see him. Her old master always had the unnerving knack of appearing at inopportune moments. She heard the Drakken growl from the darkness of his hooded purple robe as he looked at the stranger. She brushed a hand over his scaly muscled arm to sooth him.
‘I think the term “setting the cat amongst the pigeons” will apply, don’t you master?’
Lord Sernac nodded, ‘This is just the beginning of the rise of the Brethac Ziggurats power. Everything is unfolding exactly as I have foreseen,’ he said.
The queen turned to him. She remembered a time when Jynn could teach her no more about the physical aspects of the Rawn Arts and sent her to the mysterious Lord Sernac who showed her how to control, manipulate, and use her extraordinary powers to bring others under her control. It was he who showed her the true power of Pyromancy, taught her the history of the, mostly unknown, Brethac Ziggurat and those of his and her kin, the Elementals. His ability to see the future was exceptional; even though he could not see his own, but only the future of others around him.
‘Will my plan be victorious?’ she asked him wide eyed.
Lord Sernac smiled at her. ‘Put it this way; there will be deaths.’
Dukes, Counts, Barons and other great lords and their families arrived at the citadel of Aln-Tiss. Tribal chieftains, minor knights and landowners with their families, also
arrived on invite to the palace.
The reason for summoning such high-class nobility was twofold.
Firstly, the war crimes trial of King Kasan and general Plysov needed the great from throughout the land to witness the authenticity of the proceedings. Everyone there agreed that an atrocity had been committed against the Rogun crown and a document, signed by all, declaring the Vallkyte king, and all those serving under him, rebels of the state and held for acts of treason upon the Rogun peoples.
Plysov, found guilty along with two of his junior officers, of murdering the four daughters of Cromme, would suffer his sentence of execution in the morning. By the laws of the land, the style of death was to be the same as his victims had suffered, but the impalement was a harsh and macabre way to die. Judgement went to the vote by the Jury Panel, which comprised of the five people that suffered the most from their loss, King Vanduke, the Princes Havoc and Magnus, the Red Duke (who was Godfather to Tilly and Letti) and lastly, Lady Vara.
The king, who had never seen the girls in their impaled state, voted “no” to the sentence and asked for mode of death changed to hanging instead. The two princes of course voted “yes”.
Lord Rett fretted for a while and then voted “no” to the sentence mainly because he was not a blood relation to Mia and Verna and conveniently left the casting vote to his cousin. The kind-hearted Vara was about to vote for hanging, but she remembered what Havoc had said of Verna’s prophecy.
“Repentance shall be denied, suffering shall be thy final end,” she said to the prince, ‘Verna knew that he would die in agony didn’t she?’ Havoc nodded in answer to her question. ‘Well, who am I to go against prophecy, I vote yes.’
A stunned Plysov was taken away to be prepared for the execution. The other two officers, Plysov’s aides, screamed as the city guards escorted them back to their cells. Commander Zerkis, who only received his posting to the citadel a year ago, was shipped off to the stockade in the Pander Pass.
