A Dream of Storms, In the Shadow of the Black Sun: Book One

by William Kenney

“In the early empires of Man, two cities grew and flourished above all others-Mavindoor and Gaevinhold. These cities rested high in the northern reaches of Kirkaldin and controlled many leagues of the surrounding lands. Both kings, wise and good, had grown to be as family and so too their children. Jinhazen, son of the king of Mavindoor, had grown up in the forests that lie between the two kingdoms. He and the prince of Gaevinhold, Drumend, were as close as brothers. Together they grew nearly to manhood with a fiery competition between the two. So it was when they met Lyndsae.”

  “Hmmm ... ” Gorin paused for a moment. “She was beautiful, they say, hair of gold and skin that glowed like ivory. She was a merchant’s daughter from Mavindoor, Jinhazen’s city. Both young men fell madly in love with her and she in turn loved both-in different ways, you see ... ”

  “One evening, Lyndsae took Jinhazen aside and broke the heartrending news. She loved him, but as a friend. It seemed she had promised herself to Drumend and they would marry, as was human custom, when she reached twenty-one years of age. Jinhazen politely congratulated her and lightly kissed her on the cheek.”

  “’I am truly happy for the both of you. I’m sure you will be happy, Lyndsae.’ he said.”

  “But inside him was a fire. A churning had begun in Jinhazen’s gut and there was no stopping it. He waited nearly a full year in tense silence, saying nothing of his feelings. Inside however, he was mad with jealousy.”

  “He would not let Drumend have her. Coincidentally, his father had fallen ill. Grievously ill. Near to death. This gave Jinhazen his chance. One winter morning he commanded his troops to lay siege to Gaevinhold and they reluctantly agreed, he being heir to the throne."

  “The ensuing war lasted nearly a full month, with Jinhazen’s army inching it’s way toward Castle Gaevinhold. On that final day, Jinhazen himself stood upon the castle grounds screaming up at the king’s tower.”

  “’Give Lyndsae to me and all this will end.’ he cried, madness in his voice. Drumend answered.

  “’What have you done, my friend? My brother? What have you done?’”

  “’I will die before I let you marry her.’ Jinhazen screamed.”

  “’What has happened to you? Can you not give us your blessing? Your most cherished friends?’”

  “Jinhazen paused for a moment, then his eyes lit with flame. ‘I have no friends’, he screamed.”

  “And his troops assaulted the castle.”

  “A single catapult shot brought down the tower in a hail of stone and fire.”

  Gorin halted the story for a moment in thought. The others waited anxiously and he began again.

  “Jinhazen stood, hands on hips and smiled. ‘Now will you surrender her, Drumend?’”

  “There was no reply.”

  “’Drumend?’ he called. ‘Drumend? Answer me!’”

  “His rage once again enveloped him. ‘They’re trying to escape. Let no one escape!’ His men rushed into the smoldering rubble to head them off but pulled up short. Confused, Jinhazen joined them and there in ther rubble, still clutching one another, were Drumend and Lyndsae. Both crushed to death by a single stone ... ”

  D’Pharin gasped. “He killed them? Wind! Why ... What happened?”

  Hagan chuckled and nodded to Gorin to finish the tale.

  “Of course, Jinhazen was crushed and realizing what he had done, he went into self-exile and never returned to his homeland. In the northern regions, they say that he still calls out for Lyndsae and Drumend.”

  “What envy can do.” Gorin announced after a brief rest.

  “And love. Don’t forget that, my friend.” Hagan added.

  “Ah, yes. Many a male has fallen victim to the cunning female. Once you have fallen, it is like a poison that never completely leaves the system.

  Hagan did not know Gorin’s past in regards to the opposite sex, but his was a tragic tale. He had indeed fallen in love. A beautiful, golden-haired girl. Spirited and free. He had loved her with everything he had. However, when the Black Sun came and he decided to journey to Harquinn and fight, it ended.

  She had begged him to stay and finally issued the ultimatum that had finished it. She had never understood. It was something inside of him. He just couldn’t stand back and allow Mournenhile to devour their world. Never.

  If you leave me now, then you will never have me. I will go from this place and never return. It is your choice, my love. I will not lose you to this war. Better I end it now and never know the outcome. It is your choice, Hagan.

  Those words stung his heart as they echoed in his mind. He hadn’t thought about that moment in a long time. Where had she gone? He had gone to her home after returning, but a new family had purchased it. No one could tell him where she had gone. For weeks he had searched for any information. Anything. There was no trace. It was as if she had never existed.

  Since then, he had tried to recapture the feelings that they had shared. Other women were just not the same. They were not her. Even Amitee. He had genuine affection for her without a doubt, but it still fell short. It’s most likely an impossible goal my mind has set. Those other women are probably just as good, but my mind cannot let go.

                                     

             

  Later, as they loaded their saddlebags with provisions they would need for the trip, Hagan noted how different he felt physically. A general feeling of health. Since his exile, he had continuously felt drained and beaten down. Now, only a day away and he was full of energy. Stronger. Lighter on his feet. Strange, he thought.

  With the horses now packed and secured, they left Lauden in the late afternoon. They took the northern road and planned to ride past nightfall or walk as in Gorin’s case. There was a light breeze and the rustling of the leaves was soothing. Not a bad start to the trip, D’Pharin thought. Gorin did not share his optimistic outlook. He sensed something foreboding.

  Many townsfolk noticed their departure and exchanged troubled looks. Something strange was afoot. Hagan Marindel was out among the living once more. A bad omen in their eyes.

  By dusk, the three had made good progress and rested on the banks of the Rilechel River. The trees and brush were thick here, blocking out the coming light of the moon. The pleasant babbling of the water over its rocky bed was almost successful in lulling them to sleep. They ate a late supper of meat and cheese and were up again, following the river northwest an hour later. It wasn’t until nearly midnight that they set up camp.

  As they were arranging their bedrolls and getting comfortable, Gorin, who was still standing, turned and suddenly sniffed the air. He glanced at the horses and frowned.        

  “What is it?” asked D’Pharin.

  “Hmmm ... Nothing. For a moment-ah, it is nothing.” he said, taking a seat next to the campfire.

  “Cut it out, Gorin. You’re going to give him nightmares.” Hagan chuckled.

  “Oh, shut up.” D’Pharin exclaimed as he tossed a handful of grass his way.

  “Hey, Gorin. Aren’t you going to sleep?” he asked, seeing that the Troll hadn’t even unpacked his bedroll.

  “Someone needs to keep watch and my task is yet to be completed. I will not rest until I have your brother in Harquinn.”

  “Well, if you die from exhaustion, will your quest be completed?” D’Pharin asked as he rolled away from the fire onto his shoulder. ”What are you watching for anyway?”

  “Sleep now, young man. Hmmm ... ” Gorin rumbled deeply.

  Hagan stretched out on top of his thick blanket. “He is right, you know. We all need rest. Whether we are Man, Elf or Stone Troll-everything needs rest.”

  “Hmmm ... An oath is an oath and I shall honor it,” he answered staring into the flickering flames. His craggy features looked frightening in the orange glow.

  “I don’t think the council intended for you to go without sleep, my friend.” Hagan half-muttered, sleepily.

&nb
sp; “We repay our debts, Lord Hagan.”

  The word ‘Lord’ stuck in Hagan’s mind, but he was too exhausted form the days events to answer. Instead, he fell quickly asleep amongst ominous dreams and the crackling of the kindling.