The Rawn Chronicles Book Three: The Ancarryn and the Quest (The Rawn Chronicles Series 3)

by P D Ceanneir

  ‘My father and I were prepared,’ said the Sultan as he looked up towards the ceiling of the bed canopy, ‘he died along with his army there.’ Ness Ri stole a quick glance at the prince, then back again.

  ‘Very well,’ said the Sultan, ‘follow the Plyars Spine north till you find a large salt flat plain.’ The Sultan coughed again but pushed away the cloth that his great granddaughter used to dab his forehead. ‘The ridge to the north west of the salt flats,’ he went on, ‘has a narrow valley in it, go through it, and head north until you come to the end of the valley. The ruins and the marker are just beyond it. The sand storms of the past years may have covered it up anyway, but be careful, there are creatures there that do not take too kindly to intruders.’

  Lord Ness nodded, ‘thank you, my friend, rest now.’ As he took his hand away from the Sultan’s face the old man fell into a deep sleep.

  ‘Is there anything that you can do, Master Ri?’ asked Leufite.

  ‘I am sorry, my dear, there is nothing. His soul is willing but his body is weak. The Phage cannot be cured. Rejoice in his life, do not mourn his passing.’

  She nodded, Havoc saw she was strong and willed herself not to cry but the sadness was evident on her face. Tia approached the bed and took the Sultans hand.

  ‘A few words of prayer?’ she asked the Sultana.

  Leufite smiled and nodded. ‘You are kind.’

  As Tia mumbled softly through the Derma Ken’s Last Rite of Cycle, Lord Ness moved away and stood by the Prince. Outside the daylight dimmed some more and a stronger gust blew in.

  ‘So, master. “Creatures that do not take kindly to intruders?”’ quoted the prince, ‘what exactly happened to the Sultan’s father and his army?’

  ‘They were attacked at night by something or someone unknown to the scholars of history,’ informed the Ri.

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’

  ‘More to the point, my Prince, is why these creatures were there in the first place, and nowhere else,’ Ness Ri stopped talking and bowed his head as Tia’s voice became louder as she chanted the Oath of Passing.

  ‘Are they unique to the area then?’ Havoc whispered.

  ‘Hardly, my Lord, for the ruined city we seek is part of Rawn history.’

  ‘It is?’ Havoc was surprised.

  ‘Yes, it’s called the Citadel of Assassi, the birthplace of the Eldi and the last home of the Bergelonian Monarchs, your distant ancestors.’

  ‘Really? Why did you not tell me this before?’ asked Havoc with such loud annoyance that Tia and Leufite broke off their prayers and scowled at him. Lord Ness was not listening, his attention was on the wind that now breezed in through the open balcony. He pushed past the fluttering drapes and stepped out onto the wide balcony ledge. He took a long hard look at the storm that now rushed in from the sea and stepped back inside.

  ‘We have to leave, now!’ he said.

  High up on the peek of the Plysarus Mountain, known to a few as Dynaclious, The Unmounted, where only the eagles can reach the high heights and the mountain sides are steep and too treacherous to climb, there sits a man-made construction so alien to the surrounding landscape that it would be noticed from afar. Yet no one had ever ventured this far into the desert interior or climbed such impossible mountains to see it.

  That is, all except one man.

  The cold wind whistled through the twelve tall stones that circled the flat dais plinth at the Drift Ring’s centre. The stones hummed with energy and the Skrol etchings, old and worn by the elements, glowed.

  The loud crack of noise that accompanied de-materialisation echoed throughout the surrounding mountains. The tall, scarlet-cloaked figure of Lord Sernac stepped off from the dais and made his way to the table that he had carved out of the mountain rock long ago. He waved his hand over the three large objects that sat inside Skrol-covered brass cups and waited.

  The orbs, one an iridescent blue, the next a deep copper and the third’s surface had a shifting coating of black with flecks of silver. All three coloured orbs moved their hues in lazy patterns under their glassy surface layer similar to the Cloud Orrinn that sat in Queen Cinnibar’s apartment, yet only Lord Sernac knew of the existence of these three and had retained the secret of their existence for a long time.

  ‘I have come, my Master. The time for emergence is soon, but the Earth Shepherds hinder our plans,’ said Lord Sernac, speaking directly to the orbs.

  Daylight dimmed, clouds suddenly thickened above the mountain peek were there was none a second ago. The air around the summit stilled, all noise muted. The cloying feeling of pressure push down on him as the surface of the orbs began to shimmer and the whole mountain shook when the voice emanated from them.

  ‘SERNAAAAAC!’ It said, deep and menacing.

  ‘My Master.’

  ‘THEY SLUMBER! MAKE THIS QUICK!’ the Earth Daemon snapped.

  ‘The quest ship makes its journey towards destiny, as you and I had already foreseen.’

  ‘GOOD…GOOD. THEN THE DISCOVERY OF THE GREDLIGG ORRINN IS SOON AND MY EVENTUAL RELEASE, ALSO.’

  ‘Yes, my Master. However, the Brethac Ziggurat has made a…request… that may be to our benefit.

  ‘GO ON.’

  Lord Sernac outlined the Order’s plan to destroy the Cybeleion in a raging storm. The Earth Daemon listened in silence. Trapped, as he was, inside the Gredligg Orrinn and held fast by the powers of the Old Gods. Sernac knew from the many legends, written down on ancient tablets and parchment, that the Earth Daemon was buried under a mountain, which in turn, was the highest landmark on an island that floated in the clouds. Legend spoke of the island of Mortkraxnoss enshrouded by the “Grey Storm”, an impenetrable cloud made from the tormented souls of the Damned. Yet, somewhere on this impossible island, there sat the Halls of the Heroes, the great feasting halls of the dead warriors of legend, enemy and ally, sharing a goblet of wine, a story of battle and the joy of life after death.

  These were the myths of old, but it was a myth he knew to be true. Reaching the island of the dead that moved from one place to another, hidden from sight in the clouds, would be the true test of resolve for any adventurer keen enough to go looking for the greatest and most powerful of all Orrinns in history.

  However, this was not why Lord Sernac served the Earth Daemon, for the Lonely God had tainted his soul long ago at a moment of emotional weakness. These orbs before him, just like the larger Cloud Orrinn, held something truly wonderful, but the joint harmonics of three together were enough for Sernac to talk to his master without using up any of his own energy. Talking to a god as powerful as the Dark Entity also drained life-force. Sernac, many years ago, had learnt from the Eldi Grymward’s, that the Elemental Firesprites had the power to talk to Gods. Their Pyromantic energy acted as a buffer to the worst effects to talking to such omnipotent beings. This is why Baron Telmar was such a marvellous find to the Brethac Ziggurat; he could relay the Earth Daemon’s messages to his subjects. Unfortunately, Telmar was unpredictable, and he deliberately undermined the Order’s faith by retaining valuable information from them, information that Sernac knew had been vouchsafed by the Entity. It made little difference though, he and the Earth Daemon had made plans of the future, alone. The Brethac Ziggurat was merely a means to an end, dispensable subjects. Cinnibar, however, was the jewel in the Order’s crown that he needed to keep alive for now. Her Waternymph abilities meant that she could absorb Telmar’s curse and use it to talk to the Earth Daemon via the Cloud Orrinn. Unfortunately, because the volatile energy was not part of her own power, her elemental gift rebelled against it and so she aged. Talking to the Earth Daemon through only one of these rare objects also did not help; the buffering effect of Pyromantic Energy could only last so long until her life-force drained away. Each contact with the Entity was killing her, yet her Elemental power kept her alive, for now. Lord Sernac knew all of this, but neglected to inform her. She was a pawn in the Great Plan, an important one, but still a pawn.

&nb
sp; Thankfully, Telmar’s escape meant she could no longer talk to the Earth Daemon. At first, the Baron’s escape annoyed him. This was something he had missed in his dreams of foresight. Everything that surrounded the Blacksword’s movements became clouded in darkness; the Bani were always thus. The Earth Shepherd’s touch on this being was certainly a powerful one and this frightened Sernac. Yet, the visions of the young De Proteous were clear and he was just as unpredictable as Telmar, unfortunately.

  ‘…so you see, my Master, I must aid the Brethac Ziggurat in lending energy to their storm or be seen to favour their enemies and so raise their suspicions as to my loyalty to the Order. I must not give away our true intentions, Master,’ explained Sernac.

  ‘THIS IS AN INTERESTING PREDICAMENT, BUT ONE THAT WAS INEVITABLE. OUR OWN PLANS WERE ALWAYS GOING TO CLASH WITH THEIRS,’ said the Dark Entity.

  ‘Quite so, Master. Fortunately this is a plan that we can use to our advantage.’

  ‘CONTINUE.’

  ‘It is obvious that Ness will seek the First Marker in Assassi, yet the ancient citadel is buried under the sand many leagues from here. A strong storm could uncover the ruins for them to find.’ Sernac grinned at the subtleness of the idea. Long ago, his contact within the Ri Order, Gonliss Ri, had undertaken an expedition with the High Sultan of Tenk. The younger heir and a handful of his men were all that returned from the interior, Gonliss presumed dead. Sernac knew better. Information arrived a year later, Gonliss had informed him about the First Marker, the marker that spoke of the resting place of the Isle of the Dead, and he was making his long journey there. Lord Sernac continued to receive correspondence form the Ri every year until the outbreak of the civil war with Telmar and then nothing. This expedition of the prince’s was now his only chance to find Mortkraxnoss and the Great Orrinn. It had to continue for the sake of their plan.

  There was a moment’s silence after Sernac finished. He was worried that the Earth Daemon would not agree.

  ‘I SEE I HAVE CHOSEN MY SERVANT WELL,’ it said, ‘HOW CAN I AID YOU?’

  Sernac breathed out with relief. He glanced behind him over at the circle of twelve tall Saracens that sat in a deep hollow on the summit of the high mountain. ’This place was chosen for its dense concentration of Dragon Lane intersections, crossover earth energy was more common in mountainous regions that the flatter ground; why this was so no one truly knew.

  ‘The members of the Order are around the Rings of Dulan,’ said Lord Sernac, ‘together they will create a powerful storm, but are limited by the distance they could send it. Once it reaches Plysarus, the earth energy from the ground will feed and strengthen it. If we were to use the Rings of Dynaclious we could aid them and still carry out our part of the plan.’

  ‘EMERGENCE.’

  ‘Aye, emergence, Master.’

  ‘FLESH CLOTHING OF THE DARK TANIS. I SHALL BE REBORN!’

  ‘Aye, reborn, Master,’ acknowledged Sernac with a bow.

  ‘THEN LET US BEGIN!’

  At that moment, Havoc, Tia and Lord Ness were walking up the gangplank to board the Cybeleion. All three had virtually sprinted back from the palace, warily watching the dark wall of clouds that boiled on the horizon as they did so; each of then sweated profusely. Danyil, who barged his way through the busy crew, approached them.

  ‘We have to leave now!’ he said, ‘the Cybeleion could outrun this!’ he pointed with his chin at the distant horizon, which was getting closer and darker.

  Lord Ness nodded in agreement, as he tried to get his breath back. Havoc and Tia were staring at the monstrous mass that headed towards them.

  ‘That is not normal!’ hissed Tia for the tenth time.

  Havoc glanced at her and frowned, ‘Indeed, but who would send such a thing?’

  She gave a start and looked with fear at the prince and then stormed off to her cabin

  Havoc rushed down to his cabin, pushed past the sizeable hulk that was Little Kith as he opened the door for his Prince, and grabbed the Sword that Rules from his footlocker. He wanted to know how large the storm really was, but Mirryn had flown away before the strong winds buffeted the ship; he did not blame her. Still, the sheer strength of its fore winds shook the Sky Ship violently.

  The Cybeleion took off amidst the panicking fury of other ships and smaller boots who pulled their vessels closer towards the shore and secured rigging. They flew so low over the palace towers that Danyil screamed for more height because they had nearly clipped a weathervane on the tallest watchtower on the south walls. They soon reached a decent height above the desert floor but the thin air restricted their altitude. Speed was the next option. They changed course and hugged the spine of the Plyars Mountains to the east then north. Captain Danyil was cautious about using the Wind Orrinns to their full potential and risk tearing the ship apart. Still, the Cybeleion travelled faster than he expected.

  However, the storm changed course and gained on them.

  ‘I’ve never seen a storm like that before,’ said Tyban as he watched with the others from the bridge, Chichi the Lemur, was gripping him tightly around his neck in fear.

  ‘I have,’ said Powyss, and he turned to Havoc who had now changed into Raider armour and was hastily strapping his sword’s scabbard onto his back, ‘and so have you. Remember when Jynn Ri tried to flush us out of the Old Woods?’

  Havoc nodded. ‘That seems like years ago now. This is much bigger than anything Jynn Ri threw at us.’

  ‘You are both correct,’ acknowledged Lord Ness, ‘this is the work of more than one Ri.’

  ‘Do you think the Brethac Ziggurat is trying to sabotage the mission, master?’ Havoc asked.

  ‘I would bet my life on it.’

  Below the raised tier of the bridge, they could see Danyil and Lung ordering the crew to clear the deck of anything loose and stow them below. Anything that was too heavy was to be tied down. Only a handful of crew remained up top to sail the ship; the captain ordered everyone else below decks for their own safety.

  Tia watched the clouds advance anxiously. Why her mistress would have anything to do with this confused her, and she was certain the Brethac Order summoned the storm. Did she realise that she was putting a member of the Havant Order at risk?

  The cylindrical rolling cloud was sucking the very energy from the sky and discharging it inside the tempest. White lightening flickered all over the formation, thunder screamed around the Sky Ship. No matter how fast the ship flew, they knew that the storm was gaining on them. The sheer size of it stared down at her with malevolence. Electrical bursts exploded out of the dark mass, searching like croaked fingers, probing for the ship.

  Captain Danyil could see the flashes of lightening through the dull sky noting that the storm was directly behind them. ‘Tyban, more speed, get us ahead of it!’ He shouted up from the deck.

  ‘More speed captain, aye, aye.’ Tyban gripped the wheel and adjusted the Skrol dial on the control column at its side. Similar dials on each of the Orrinn Towers shifted at the column commands and the ship picked up speed. Everyone on the bridge gripped the railing when the Cybeleion lurched forward as gusts of wind energy blasted out of the five vents in the Sky Ship’s hull. The storm receded slowly and the ship juddered forwards with the momentum.

  ‘If we stay ahead of it long enough it may die out,’ said Tyban to the Ri, Powyss and Havoc, but the unspoken look they gave back to him did not allay his fears.

  Danyil joined them. ‘I did not want to break-in the Orrinn Towers in this way. I have no idea how fast this ship can fly. She may have stress tolerance limits, but if we can’t keep in front of the storm, then I may have no choice but to push her harder.’ Havoc nodded in understanding.

  Below them, the tall sand dunes zipped by them as the Cybeleion ate up the miles.

  Velnour watched the storm with Furran, Foxe and two of the Wyvern below decks in the captains dining room at the aft end of the ship. The high windows curved around the rear wall that formed part of the ship’s teardrop shape.
This gave them a good view of the grey cloud and its dazzling light show. Now, the windows were rattling in their frames.

  ‘The Cybeleion was not designed to fly at these speeds,’ said Maleene, the tall brunette leader of the Wyvern Filial, ‘we will rip apart before the storm hits us.’ Concern was clear on her face.

  ‘So, not much chance at survival then, is that what you are saying?’ retorted Furran, and Velnour heard the Wyvern huff.

  ‘They are just trying to stay ahead of it,’ said Velnour, doing his best to convince the women as well as himself, ‘Maybe we can outrun it.’

  ‘You can’t outrun death,’ said Jilkyn, Maleene’s younger sister. She was shorter, with the same colour of hair and pixie-like features. She moved closer to the window, ‘because it’s getting closer, look.’ They did look and she was right. The storm was now a complete vertical wall rising from just above the ground to sky, as Velnour looked at it’s size he could see that it was curving around them on both sides like a hand grabbing a fly out of the air, and the grip was closing. Lightning flared, bright and blinding, there was a brief instant as their image of the storm revealed something large and malevolent writhing inside the dark wall of cloud. All of them stepped back from the windows with a yell.

  Lord Sernac felt the flow of energy rush through him as he stood on the central dais. The Earth Daemon added it’s volatile power through the harmonising qualities of the three objects on the table. For a moment, the master and servant linked and Lord Sernac could feel the entity’s joy of temporary freedom as it released it’s energy into the storm.

  ‘TIME IS SHORT,’ it said to him, a cloying gurgle in his mind, ‘THE MY’THOS WILL AWAKEN SOON AND PULL ME BACK!’

  Sernac felt, rather than saw, the Dark Entity enter the storm that was still distant. He did not enter it completely, such a thing was impossible while he was still trapped inside the Gredligg Orrinn, but he pushed enough of his power into the billowing clouds to control it’s formation and direction.