The Rawn Chronicles Book One: The Orrinn and the Blacksword: Unabridged (The Rawn Chronicles Series 1)

by P. D. Ceanneir

  If anyone could look through the portside hole, they would see the fireball had carved out a tunnel the size of a man’s head; the tunnel’s walls were either smoking or on fire. The starboard side was now a gaping hole.

  The captain and crew gripped the nearest firm object before impact, but there was barely a tremor. The young sailor who had first saw the fireball also notice in which direction it had come from. The captain issued a new course change and for someone to assess the damage.

  Powyss had been watching the movement of the sky ships as they came closer and closer. He could feel the tension from the men around him.

  Everyone gasped as the white ball of flame with a trailing vapour tail struck the Jezzrion.

  A shiver ran down his spine. He was the oldest amongst the men and the only one experienced enough to recognise a Pyromancer fireball when he saw one.

  The crew of the Raxion noticed the fireball. It had passed very quickly in an upward trajectory across their bows, and did not look like it was going to stop anytime soon.

  Jynn caught a fleeting glimpse of it before the clouds swallowed it up. She had an instinctual feeling of uncertainty at the object’s identity. She ran to Hildek’s side and snatched the telescope he was using out of his hands. She got a close-up view of the Jezzrion’s damaged starboard side before the ship turned to port, heading for the mountains. Debris of burning wood and inventory from the storeroom trickled out of the hole as she turned.

  Jynn then scanned the mountains for the source of the fireball. It took her several seconds to find the tall, thin, black-cloaked figure standing in full view high on a ledge.

  Her heart leapt at seeing the Blacksword in the flesh at last. All the images of him in other people’s minds were no substitute for the real thing.

  “Hard to starboard, Captain, follow the Jezzrion,” she said.

  When both ships turned in the same course direction, Powyss knew that the young fool, Havoc, had achieved his plan. “May the gods go with you, boy,” he whispered to himself. “Right, men it’s now or never, let’s go.”

  He led the men running over the Peril Bridge.

  With the first task accomplished, the Blacksword ran. His heart beat in time with his strides, a booming tattoo, ticking countdown to salvation or oblivion. He was no longer the exiled prince; he was a being of power, a free spirit, exempt from obligation and rules. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel the spiritual essence that was Prince Havoc receding into dark recesses of the minds void; forced to slumber, while allowing this new entity to control his body. He knew the source for this phenomenon.

  The Sword that Rules.

  He easily leapt a twelve-foot-wide gully, and then turned in another direction parallel to the rock face. He used natural narrow paths and footholds as he climbed upwards. His concentration was on the task before him; he willed his stamina never to flag; the muscles in his legs pushed him ever onwards and there were moments when he exceeded human abilities. Energy fed his muscles, Rage focused the energy and the danger around him focused his mind.

  The Jezzrion was closing. Captain Plainer had ordered the helmsman to go higher so he could bring the catapults to bear on the target.

  The ship’s catapults were, in essence, larger versions of the Golas. A spoke wheel wound up the spring, tightening the bow’s cable. In the centre of the wire was an angled cup that held the projectile, which was a small sphere made from thin, brittle iron, with holes all around its surface; inside the ball was flammable material that burnt bright and hot.

  Once in range, the captain gave to order to fire.

  The Jezzrion turned to starboard and then she opened fire on the Blacksword. Five flaming missiles shot out of iron portholes on the lower port side with an echoing boom. They screamed through the air and exploded when they hit the rocks. Shrapnel whizzed around the Blacksword as he ran, and he leapt high into the air when the missiles ranged too close. He heard a fragment rush by his ear.

  “What is that fool doing?” cried Jynn as she saw the firebombs burst around their target. “Does he not realise he is dealing with a powerful Rawn?”

  “Ma’am, I don’t think Plainer gives a shit,” said Hildek.

  “That’s for damaging my ship, you bastard,” shouted Captain Plainer. “Load again; fire at will.”

  The crew carried out his orders and fired another volley, but it went way off target as their quarry changed direction.

  The Blacksword noticed that the Jezzrion had turned around and was about to bring the starboard catapults to bear on him. He changed direction so he was running towards the bow of the sky ship.

  He linked a strong Pyromantic surge to the wind element and ran faster towards the cliff edge; summoning the element as he did so. Ten more strides and a two-hundred-foot drop would welcome him into its abyss.

  He neared the precipice. He saw the Jezzrion fire. He leapt as he summoned a dense pressure wave of fluidic air behind him to lift him high into the sky.

  Captain Plainer yelled with joy as all ten batteries of catapults shot burning-hot death towards the mountain, and directly towards the Blacksword.

  It was to be the Jezzrion’s third and final volley.

  Plainer’s smile faded as he witnessed the cloaked figure rise high in the air. The figure silhouetted against flame for an instant as the missiles slammed into the mountainside and merged into a massive, orangey-red fireball.

  Even from her distance away on the Raxion, Jynn could still feel the vast amount of energy used to produce the wind element of that magnitude. She was amazed at how high the Blacksword jumped, and instantly saw his intention.

  Her quarry was boarding the Jezzrion.

  The Blacksword had timed the jump with precision. Even as he started coming down from its zenith, Captain Plainer saw him unsheathe his long, black-bladed sword. He held the weapon in front of him and it sliced through one of the thick cables, securing the starboard outrigger sail as the downward momentum carried him forward. He landed on the foredeck lightly.

  The outrigger now flapped uselessly in the wind; the forward momentum was now on the main sail and the port outrigger, and this had the effect of sending the Jezzrion veering to port suddenly in a wide arc. The sudden change in direction sent everyone off balance; the helmsman tried to compensate.

  The captain saw the Blacksword point, with his sword, at the Orrinn Tower. He clearly heard the sounds of Skrol being incanted, and the ship lurched upwards as the Wind Orrinn was ordered to produce more gusts.

  Sailors near the bow rushed to attack the single invader. They carried cutlasses or hookspears. They circled him cautiously, and the Blacksword used the time to separate SinDex.

  The Spears thrust towards him. He ducked and took one of the sailor’s legs off just below the knee with both swords. He jumped and somersaulted through the air, slicing through the heads of two cutlass-waving sailors as he passed by overhead, a dense spry of blood fountained over the other sailors to drench their tunics. When he landed, a crewmember with a round shield and chest armour ran towards him with a poleaxe. The Blacksword dodged the axe and used Dex to cut through the shield, amputating the crewman’s arm below the elbow.

  The Jezzrion was moving higher and quicker now. Cold air and cloudy mountain peaks welcomed the ship as she passed close to the mountain edge. On its pirouette to port, Plainer saw the cliff edge get closer with every second, and he shouted frantic orders to the helmsman to decrease the Orrinn’s wind output.

  The Raxion was closing. Jynn was not sure what was happening on board the other ship or why it soared higher, but she could clearly see that the Blacksword was cutting a path through the crew to get aft.

  “Faster, get me closer!” she shouted to the helmsman.

  Three more men dropped to the Blacksword. One sailor clumsily thrust his sword at the hooded man. His sword shattered on impact with Sin, and the Blacksword spun around, kicking the sailor in the chest and sending him screaming over the edge of the ship. His body spun like
a five-pointed star as he fell towards the ground.

  Six more cutlass-brandishing sailors attacked from behind. The Blacksword his left hand on the portside wooden railing and summoned the earth element. A twelve-foot long section of the railing exploded into thousands of large splinters, piercing any exposed parts of the sailors’ faces. They all screamed in pain as the stinging needles pierced their eyes.

  Running onto the Orrinn Tower deck, the Blacksword hacked down two more sailors in his path.

  The Jezzrion listed to port as she came around for another pass at the mountain zenith, which loomed dangerously close. Just before impact, the rising fear that the captain felt in the pit of his stomach at the fast-approaching mountain was subdued slightly as he saw the beauty of the triangle-tipped summit. A strong easterly wind blasted the powdery snow on its surface into a long, fine white cloud, clearly defined against azure backdrop of the evening sky.

  The Jezzrion juddered as the port side scraped the mountain’s sharp edge just fifty feet below the summit. The hull ruptured and the catapult stations ripped out of their mounts as the hard ice and granite gouged a long line out of her lower gundeck. The manning crews screamed as the backdraft and tilt of the ship pulled them out of the gaping hole into the freezing air. Bodies and armament scattered down the jagged slope of the mountain.

  During the moment of impact, the Blacksword jumped from the Orrinn deck onto the aft castle, the result of which made him the only one standing after the collision. He merged both swords together and brought it down onto the helm, splitting the steering pivot and wheel in two. This had the effect of putting the Orrinn into a neutral position inside its cradle. The Jezzrion slowly began to sink while still moving in circles to port.

  Captain Plainer was the first on his feet and one of the last of the crew alive on deck. Pulling his sword from its scabbard at his hip, he attacked the Blacksword. The clash of weapons sounded clear in the thin air and heard by most on board the closing Raxion.

  Plainer’s pig-like eyes were full of fear. He knew from the first stroke that he was no match for this skilled opponent. This was fact proved correct when the Blacksword leapt over him and sliced his back, severing his spinal column, as he landed. Plainer lost the use of his legs and fell against the helm.

  The Blacksword looked around him. There, at the rear of the deck, sat the ground-anchor and chain coil. Both sky ships had three anchors, two aft and one stern, to secure them at sea or floating above land. He used a surge with the third element to lift the starboard-side anchor. It broke the securing brackets and part of the starboard railing as it wrenched free. It hung there, four feet above the deck.

  He waited until he came in view of the Raxion.

  Hildek had cringed when the Jezzrion had scraped against the mountain. He had looked away as the bodies began to tumble. The mountain blocked his view of the ship now, but they were closer. The Havant was eager to board her; he wished her good riddance.

  He looked at Jynn just as the Jezzrion came back into view. He was glad she could not read his mind without touching him; he shivered at the thought. Jynn suddenly breathed in sharply. Hildek looked at the other ship as it came back into view from behind the mountain. Something black trailing a chain hurtled towards them. A few seconds passed before he realised what it was.

  “Hard to port!” he shouted, but he knew it was too late.

  The ten-foot-wide anchor struck the Raxion fourteen feet from her figurehead. It carved through wood and flesh as it passed through the hull and the ship’s mid decks. The force of the impact almost stopped the ship in mid air. Everyone, who was not in the flight path of the anchor, lurched forward with a violent jolt. As the anchor left the ship, bursting a midst a cloud of planking near its aft rudder base, the wind that sent it in the first place slammed into the ship with a tremendous force. Anyone not holding onto something and exposed to the blast gale-force wind felt himself lifted off the deck and sent spinning over the side.

  Jynn and Hildek crawled to the starboard railing as the ship stopped shaking. They looked at towards the Blacksword, who was standing in full view next to the Jezzrion’s iron Orrinn Tower. They watched him lift up his sword. In the bright, sunny day, it did not glint or sparkle. He held it there for all to see. Then he swung the weapon of prophecy in a horizontal arc towards the centre of the Orrinn Tower.

  “Oh shit!” Hildek barely had time to curse as the Blacksword sliced the tower in two.

  Chapter 28

  Jynn Ri

  The crossing of the Peril Bridge was not as treacherous as anyone thought it would be. They had all made good time and not lost a single man to the sinkholes. Beyond the bridge was a grass field. Tall, green stems bent in the wind, and it would prove useful as cover. Luckily, they found an old, dried-up riverbed with deep grass embankments that ran in the same direction they were travelling in.

  Their luck, however, was going to run out.

  Whyteman had taken three others to scout ahead. He returned with bad news. A Vallkyte patrol out of Fort Chunla had stopped to camp up ahead of them. They stood in the way of their goal, the Oldwoods.

  “How many are there?” asked Powyss.

  “Eighty at the least,” said Whyteman.

  They all groaned at the answer.

  Powyss looked at them in silence. They were all thin and malnourished; none of them were in any fit state for battle.

  Othell smiled back at him. “You’ve gave us a good run, Captain,” he said, and everyone nodded in agreement. “You and your apprentice; we can use his sword when he catches up.”

  Little Kith rubbed his nose. “Well, you’ve got to die of something, I suppose; may as well be with a sword in your hand,” he said.

  “Or a bow,” said one of Whyteman’s archers, who was called Linth.

  “We have the element of surprise.” Velnour shrugged.

  “Fortune has favoured us so far,” said a Haplann soldier called Hexor, his twin brother, Foxe, nodded in agreement.

  Powyss pulled out Bor-Teaven and rested it in his lap. “Whyteman, take your archers to the right flank and give us cover when we attack, take out the pickets first.”

  Whyteman acknowledged with a nod.

  “That leaves twenty-four of us to attack line abreast. Keep quiet, and wait for my signal,” said Powyss.

  The warm air languished placid and sultry. A soft breeze swayed the grass stems as they crept up to the Vallkyte positions. Birds twittered and insects hummed; it was a day for drowsing in the sun.

  They were so close to the enemy pickets that they could reach out and touch them. One saw the massive bulk of Little Kith and was about to utter a cry of warning when Whyteman fired an arrow into his mouth. Two other pickets fell to arrows before the enemy spotted the fugitives, and then Powyss stood, screamed a war cry with the others, and attacked.

  Several things happened when the Blacksword cut the Orrinn Tower from the hull of the Jezzrion.

  First, the tower, now free from the ship, spun away into the air. The Wind Orrinn inside it continued to blast out strong gusts through the iron funnel as it twisted and turned. It ripped the horizontal sail from its moorings. Wrenching sounds of snapping cable and iron cleats filled the frigid air and it spun away, wrapped in the sail.

  The next thing was the ship itself. With no wind or sail to hold it up, the seventy-ton ship plummeted straight down. The wide hull helped her to cling to the thin mountain air as she fell, causing the cold air around it to scream as it dropped. The fall was not far; the ship had been slowly descending after the collision with the summit’s edge, and the mountainside spoke of a soft landing in thick snow, fifty feet below.

  The other thing to slow her descent was the Raxion. Both sky ships, now tethered together by the anchor chain, now tightened when the Jezzrion plummeted to the mountain slope.

  Once more, the suddenly violent lurch forwards pulled everyone on deck off his or her feet as the dead weight of the Jezzrion hauled the lighter Raxion after it. The tightening c
hain caused more damage below decks and the hull of the ship buckled and screamed in protest.

  Jynn watched in horror as the Jezzrion slammed, hull first, onto the mountain below. It began to slide down the snowy slope, quickly followed by the Raxion.

  The violent landing jarred the bones of the Blacksword’s body. He held onto the rope he had tied around the bottom of the Orrinn Tower as the bow ploughed through the snow. She started to slide down the steep slope effortlessly. Powdery snow sprayed up onto the deck, and the ship left a furrow in its wake.

  The ship struck against boulders and tore down stunted firs. She jostled left and right, until she finally hit two outcrops of rock that protruded from the snow. The Jezzrion stopped, wedged against the rocks.

  However, the Raxion still had forward momentum; she hit the snow slope and bounced down behind the Jezzrion. Everyone held onto something in fear for their lives. All, that is, except Jynn. The captain saw her running towards the bow in long, lopping strides.

  The aft castle of the Jezzrion loomed dangerously close and collision was imminent. Jynn jumped from the bow and used the wind element to give her lift and distance. Three long seconds later, the bow of the Raxion hit the aft castle of the Jezzrion; both parts of the ships crumpled from the force of the impact. Wooden planks and splintered beams spun around Jynn as she flew through the air, arms and legs wheeling wildly. A few chunks of ballistic timber whizzed past her, one even punched a sizable hole into the skirt of her purple robe. Her mighty jump took her past the mashed, chaotic ruin of the Jezzrion’s stern and she landed on the ships tower deck, but momentum made her roll further down to the bow. She pulled out her sword as she slid and rammed it into the planking, gripping the snake hilt tightly as she slowed; the sword cut a long, deep gash into the planking. The collision had the effect of pushing the Jezzrion out of the rocks she was wedged into with a loud violent screech. She then continued her jarring descent down the mountain.