Lokan’s guards stopped in the center of the courtyard, while the king made a pass in front of the troops before circling back to the center to rejoin his them. He sat atop his black Andalusion; his favorite and one of the larger horses he had in his service. He looked proud of the army stretched out before him.
The troops stood at attention, anticipating a speech from their sovereign, and they weren’t disappointed.
Lokan looked over his accumulated troops with pride. He considered his army to be one of the best in the land, and one didn’t have to look much farther than their preparations to see how formidable they were. He felt astounded by what they had accomplished in such a short period-of-time.
“The Rintana made landfall a little before noon. We didn’t sit back idly, waiting for them to come to us. We had a surprise waiting for them.” Cheers arose from the soldiers and with a smile, he waited for them to quiet down before he continued.
"I have been told, by messenger, our troops are falling back." The crowd fell to silence. "Not before they dealt the enemy a crippling defeat. We wounded or killed a large number of the Rintana troops who were unprepared to fight while making landfall. We have also made their attack plans more difficult now that we have destroyed a large number of their war machines. It will be hard for them to breech our walls with the few remaining catapults left in their service." Raucous cheers and applause erupted. Raythum looked on with pride and adoration.
"This is not to say the task laying in front of us will be easy, because it won’t. The task laying before us will be difficult, and we will encounter casualties. But I stand before you, not as your king or general, but as a man with the same invested as each and every one of you. We all fight to defend our lands, to protect our families, and to ensure our very survival.”
Lokan looked around at the troops to identify both of his sons. He spotted Raythum first and smiled, before looking toward the towers, offering Tirell a nod. “My father once told me, a true king would never sit back while his soldiers fought his battles. A true king fights side-by-side with his soldiers, risking his own neck, the same as he expects from his troops. Today I will be that king. I will fight by your side, and you will notice both of my sons are among your ranks.”
Several troops near Raythum gave him a look and nodded their approval. The attention made Raythum feel uncomfortable and he took an awkward step back, not before a small flush of pride spread through him at his father’s acknowledgement.
Lokan dismounted his horse and walked toward the front ranks of soldiers, inspecting them as he went. “By my calculations, the enemy should approach within the hour. Let us stand shoulder-to-shoulder to ensure the Rintana know who we are, and what we fight for!” Cheers rose to their highest level yet, and Lokan increased to a yell to speak over it. “Let’s send the enemy crawling back to their ships. Send them west to their arid, desolate, wasteland; weak enough they remember this day and will never return!” He raised his fist into the air increasing the applause and chatter from the massed troops.
He walked back over to his generals and issued last minute adjustments as a bugle sounded an alarm. The soldiers on the wall ran to the edge to see what triggered the warning. The Havenbrook soldiers used to lay the trap had returned. The officers on horseback led the charge, followed by the soldiers on foot, and the surviving war machines. The enemy soldiers were nowhere in sight. The gates opened to allow the troops inside.
Many of the soldiers on the wall were on edge waiting for the inevitable to occur. Raythum felt it worse than any of his companions. He had never been in a fight before, let alone a full-scale battle. He had no idea what to expect and his stomach tied itself into knots. There was a lot at stake and he didn’t want to make a mistake.
He glanced down the wall, squinting into the bright sunlight, when another alarm sounded, signaling that the time had come. He could see the tops of the catapults, followed by a long line of figures marching in sync; providing an ominous scene. Raythum felt butterflies form and flutter in his stomach.
What followed could only be described as controlled chaos as troops hurried along the wall; ensuring they completed all of the tasks assigned to them. Archers positioned themselves along the edge of the outer wall, listening and comprehending last minute orders. Raythum pulled out his long bow and checked his stock of arrows. He stared over the distant hills rolling outward from Havenbrook, and watched as the enemy soldiers formed ranks and readied their attack.
A bugle rang from the rear of the enemy lines, and the soldiers in the middle stepped to the side, clearing a path for an officer on horseback to ride through. Three flag bearers and two guards accompanied the officer, seeking an audience with Lokan before the battle ensued.
Raythum looked back over his shoulder, toward the westernmost tower. He spotted his brother and met his eyes. Tirell nodded his head and Raythum shifted his attention to his father, who stood stroking his beardless chin. Raythum expected his father to order the door opened so he could meet the enemy officer, but instead his father put one finger in the air and circled—signaling for the attack to begin.
A look of surprise flashed across Raythum’s face. His father had always been nothing if not honorable. Then again, he never questioned his father, and he wouldn’t begin now. His father noticed his look and grinned, before sending his focus back to the activity on the wall. The young boy looked confused, but decided he’d ask later—he didn’t want to cast doubt now.
One of the Havenbrook archers nocked an arrow, pulled back the bowstring, and let the arrow loose. Raythum thought the soldier had missed, but judging by his satisfaction, Raythum felt as though the arrow had flown on target. It landed in the dirt in front of the horse; burying about half its length in the soft ground.
The officer stared up at the top of the wall, glaring at the soldier who would dare take a shot at him. He looked back over his shoulder and nodded toward the bugler who again sounded the horn. He turned his horse and made his way to rear of the ranks. The soldiers reformed their lines, sealing off the path they had created for the officer.
The officer issued commands in Rintanan, a language Raythum didn’t understand. Before he could grasp what transpired, he saw large boulders hurling through the air toward him.
Several of the boulders connected with the wall, shaking it and cracking it in places. Raythum could only compare the movement to that of an earthquake. Several soldiers reloaded the catapults, and a captain ordered the archers to attack. They fired deep into the ranks, aiming for any soldiers working on or near the catapults. Several fell, but more stormed up to take their places. They were slowing the enemy’s progress, though. He reloaded, and awaited the order to fire before letting his arrow loose.
The Rintana weren’t wasting any time either. The soldiers in the front lines had already raised ladders to climb the wall. Raythum and the other archers received the command to fire at will, and the soldiers followed the order, picking off the enemy one-by-one as they prepared to climb. Bodies fell and accumulated on the ground creating a scene of death; blood pooled and accumulated, saturating the dry, hard-packed ground surrounding the Havenbrook walls.
Large stones and boulders continued to assault, cracking and damaging the thick stone wall. Adrenaline stormed through Raythum’s veins. The bright blue sky started to change. It turned gray and filled with green-black clouds blocking out all light. A lightning bolt struck down from the sky, ripping apart the ground, sending bodies flying everywhere. The roar of thunder shook the wall and caused Raythum to miss his shot. He looked around in wonder.
A large, catapulted boulder slammed into the stone about ten feet below Raythum’s position, launching him into the air, and making him lose his helmet. When he fell back to the earth, his head slammed into the back of the wall, opening a gash. Blood poured from the fresh wound, and he lost consciousness.
Raythum opened his eyes. The sun shone and a gentle breeze blew in through the window. He tried to sit up, but grabbed at his head, whi
ch pounded as if blacksmith hammers bombarded it. He brought his hand up and rubbed his forehead as he looked around at his surroundings. He was in the infirmary, but he couldn’t remember how he had gotten there. His head felt bandaged, and the throbbing felt worse above his left eye.
Wanting someone, anyone he yelled, “Nurse! Doctor! Anyone?”
“There is no reason to yell, Raythum. You suffered a large wound to your head when a catapult flung a large boulder at the wall very near your position.”
Raythum looked surprised to see the old wizard sitting in a chair not far from his bed. “Norlun! What are you doing here?” He stared questioningly at the old man’s aged and weathered face.
“Just keeping an eye on you.” He stood up and approached Raythum’s bed. “You should keep resting and get back to sleep.”
Raythum tried to sit up, but his head hurt and he sank back down into the bed. “The Rintana. I need to get back out there and join the fight. I can be useful.”
Norlun pushed him back down in the bed. “The fight ended over three days ago.” He caught the look of surprise on the young man’s face. “We took heavy casualties, but I’m happy to say we drove off the attack. We sent the few remaining Rintana back to their ships and out to sea. Not before we crippled some of them too.” The old man chuckled. “I have to say, I think it will be a long time before the cowards try to attack us again.” The old man’s kind eyes told the boy to relax.
Raythum wore a perplexed look on his face. “But how? I don’t understand.”
Norlun pulled a chair over near the bed so he could sit. “Our wall cracked with the continued bombardment from their catapults. The archers, as you know, were doing a good job of picking off the soldiers operating the war machines, until they raised their ladders. Then our focus changed and they started to make ground with the bombardment. Shortly after you were knocked unconscious and carried from the wall, things got interesting.”
“How so?” Raythum asked, sitting up straighter despite his discomfort.
“To combat the soldiers on the ladders, our soldiers dropped hot pitch on the enemies from the wall. The storm I created,” he winked at Raythum, “brought lightning crashing to the ground, igniting the hot pitch. Soldiers fled screaming and the ladders caught on fire, rendering them useless,” he said, quite pleased with himself.
Raythum smiled. “I wish I could’ve seen that.”
“Even those tactics weren’t enough to persuade the Rintana to give up. The battle raged on for the next two days. Your brother turned the tide and brought the battle to our favor.” Norlun stopped, anticipating a response from the young soldier, and took the time to pack the bowl of his pipe.
“Tirell? He turned the tide in our favor? But how?” Raythum’s face turned white, frightened as to how it was possible. “He didn’t, you know, use spells from Luther’s diary?”
The old man took a long draw on his pipe. A blue haze from the tobacco filled the room. “I had been afraid of something like that also, so we kept our eye on him. The spells he used weren’t dark magic. Instead, he found a way to modify existing spells. The words coming from his mouth were unbelievable. He has an innate ability to harness his spark. He did things none in the conclave thought possible,” he said, clearly impressed by Tirell’s abilities.
“But can he be trusted? What if some of these modifications came from Luther’s diary?” The boy was suspicious.
The old wizard shook his head. “That’s just it. Several of the elders were concerned, and as such, we monitored him throughout the duration of the battle. None of the modifications contained dark components. I was troubled and reviewed several of the spells he used and tried them on my own.” Raythum tried to protest. He still didn’t trust the sudden transformation in his brother. “It just comes down to talent. Your brother has the greatest ability channeling energy than any other wizard I have ever been around.” He looked into the boy’s suspicious eyes.
“But that is the problem. I love and respect my brother, but I’m worried we can’t trust him,” Raythum pleaded.
Norlun leveled his gaze and pulled on his pipe while leaning forward. “The conclave disagrees with you. In fact, it is felt he has proven himself trustworthy and it has been suggested he take the test to determine if he should join the Keepers.”
Raythum couldn’t believe what he heard. His brother had tricked them all, only he could see where his brother’s aspirations lay. He didn’t know what the Keepers were, or what they did, he had only heard about them. But he understood enough to know the position came with much honor, carrying great responsibility and trust, neither of which were traits his brother exemplified.
“I can tell you don’t agree with this decision.” Norlun stood up and patted Raythum’s shoulder. “For now you should rest, son. Take comfort that the final decision on the Keepers lies with me. I will put great thought into it before giving my conclusion. You have been through a lot and you needn’t concern yourself with this.” He shuffled out of the room.
Raythum lay back in the bed, relieved his land, family, people, and of course himself had survived the battle, but waking up to this news became almost too much to handle. He decided to take the old man’s advice and he closed his eyes. Before long, he drifted off to a troubled sleep.
A First Love
The year of Raythum’s sixteenth birthday had been full of surprises. He had grown over the past couple of years, looking older than his age would let on. His features had become less childlike as he approached his adult years. He had lost his baby fat, transforming his face into a hard, chiseled one with a strong jaw. This matched his physical appearance which had become sleek and muscular, and he stood taller than others his age too.
He grew quite handsome and had the eye of every young lady in the city. Of course, the woman for him wouldn’t be of his own choosing, but of his parent’s as a way to shore up a relationship, or increase Havenbrook’s holding of land. He understood his place and his role and had accepted it at a young age. Not to say he walked around with blinders on, though. Several young ladies had his eye as well.
Raythum strode down the street with his good friend Malk. He and Malk had grown up together and now trained together too. The son of a wealthy noble—his father owned the largest and most prolific shipping company in Havenbrook, employing hundreds of ships—he acted spoiled and entitled, but was a good friend to Raythum nonetheless. Their paths were similar and as such, they conducted their education and training in unison.
They had the afternoon free and took the opportunity to relax and swim in the river outside of town. They headed back to the inner ring in the evening. After crossing a street, a young lady rounded the corner of a building and ran right into Raythum. Because of his size advantage over her, he knocked her to the ground.
Obviously upset and unaware it could be her fault, she yelled. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you big galoot. I’m in a hurry and could’ve been injured.” She pulled herself off the ground, before looking up to see whom she had run into. Halfway to standing she recognized him and froze.
Raythum rushed over and grabbed her arm to help her to her feet. She stared into his blue eyes, embarrassed by what she had said. She stood frozen, unable to say anything.
He gave her a warm smile. “I’m sorry, my lady. You’re right; we should watch where we’re going. Are you hurt?”
She blinked, breaking her awkward frozen stare. She had heard of the prince’s kindness, but she never expected him to be this kind. “I, I, apologize, my lord. I should’ve been paying more attention to where I was going. And please excuse my curt mouth. I didn’t realize who I was yelling at.” She bowed her head.
“There is no need for that.” He grasped her arm to get her attention. “I’m not the king, nor do I expect to be. You don’t need to bow down. I think it was a combination of both of us not paying attention. Kindly accept my apology as well.” He put his hand on his heart to reflect his sincerity. He stared at her blue eyes, re
minding him of a clear summer sky. Her thick, dark hair fell to her shoulders. He felt drawn to her.
She brushed a few rogue strands of hair from her eyes and offered him a smile. Butterflies fluttered in Raythum’s stomach. The beauty and intensity of her eyes stopped his heart.
“Thank you. I will be on my way then.” She turned to walk away.
Raythum rushed after her. “Wait, my lady, wait.” She stopped and turned around. “I never caught your name.”
She blushed. “That’s because I never offered it to you.” The corners of her lips curled up to a smirk. “My name is Serena. Now if you please, I must be on my way.” She turned to hurry off again, but not before offering him a brief smile...
Raythum turned to Malk who looked bored and eager to be on his way. “Have you seen her before?”
“Her? I have seen her once or twice.” He shrugged. “But you cannot be interested in her, Rayth. She is the daughter of a blacksmith; nothing but a peasant.” He started to walk away in the direction of the inner ring.
Raythum caught up with him. “I have to see her again. Do you know which shop?”
Malk rolled his eyes. “Her father runs the Firehammer shop in the merchant ring, but honestly, you shouldn’t bother chasing after a blacksmith’s daughter. No good can come from it.”
Raythum gave Malk a friendly punch on the arm. “I can’t help it. She is beautiful.”
Malk shook his head and they continued walking down the street. Raythum could tell he upset Malk with his decision, but let it pass.
For the next two days, Raythum couldn’t get Serena out of his mind. He tried to come up with a way to visit her in an inconspicuous manner, when the way presented itself during his drills. Although he used a practice sword, several of the links in his chainmail broke and were in need of repair.
He had to wait several more days before he finally had a free moment to head to the merchant ring. Malk wanted to use the free time to head to the river, but Raythum informed him he would be busy.
The Rising Past: Book 2 in The Keepers of the Orbs Series Page 7
