by P D Ceanneir
‘I’m not qualified in the Lore of the My’thos and my people are sworn to secrecy about it anyway,’ said the captain, holding up a hand to ward off any more questions. ‘We only serve a purpose to guard the way for travellers that want to reach the Isle of the Dead. I know you are of my people, Prince Havoc, but even so, there are rules that I have sworn to from a very young age. The leaders of Ternquin will still see you as outsiders, that much is certain. However, there is one who will explain everything to you.’
‘Who will that be?’
‘Sernac Polmyn, my father and the leader of my people.’
The Cybeleion eventually cleared the fog bank as the sun rose to its zenith in the white sky. Snow-capped mountains, lofty and inaccessible, barred their way north like a wall of sharp jagged teeth. Dusts of snow followed the high winds that smashed against these peeks creating fluffy clouds of ice as if they were chimneystacks belching out white smoke. The Epicentre was far behind them now, but according to the Captain it tended to move around, because of the unstable flux of earth energies that saturated this region.
Havoc stood at the bow, watching the shadow of the Sky Ship eat up the miles as it glided over the snowy land below them. Standing beside him was Tia, leaning up against him for warmth, even though Rawn Masters always created a natural area of warm air around them; she pulled her furs tightly around her chest.
She looked at the prince and saw him frown as he looked down without seeing the ground, he was lost in thought, and the concern on his face was evident.
‘I will not use a Thought Link without your consent; so tell me what is on your mind?’ she asked him.
He turned to her and smiled. What could he tell her? His thoughts were muddled enough as it was. The conversation with Captain Carbaum threw up more concerns for him, and obvious joy because they had found people from Ternquin of Assassi and a possible end to their quest. Instead, he deflected her question and smiled at her.
‘I was thinking about a shallow pool by a waterfall where we first made love.’ He said and he watched her smile back at him.
‘A good memory?’ she asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ he grinned, ‘a very good memory.’
Havoc recalled the memory of their first union, as if it was yesterday…
…It was on that day, several months after their escape from the Brethac, when the Paladins had organised a mock funeral for Tia’s purple robe. On the deserted forest island, they had cooked wild boar on the funeral pyre and enjoyed each other’s company. There was dance and music, followed by prose and boastful stories of battle to finish off an entertaining evening. Later, Havoc took some sandalwood soap and a fine fleece for a towel and headed off into the woods to find the source of the stream that they had camped beside for the night.
There was another reason for wandering alone in the woods for the prince, other than having a bath, one he had only explained to Lord Ness later. Long ago, the Ri had given him the Lobe Stone that had once belonged to Tia and he used this to contact Bleudwed who was many miles away in Caphun.
He had activated the stone and used their Skrol password for connecting to the one owned by the countess. He spoke her name several times until he heard her voice, small and distant, but clear enough to understand. His heart leapt for an instant as she called his name in return. It had been a long time since he had heard her voice.
‘Havoc, Havoc is that you?’ she replied.
‘Who were you expecting, a bloodthirsty Drakken looking for his Lobe Stone?’ This made the countess laugh, a light tinkling sound that made the prince smile, but the comment confirmed to Bleudwed that she was speaking to the real Havoc even if he did have the password to connect to her Lobe Stone.
‘Oh, it is so good to hear your voice, have you been getting up to mischief again?’ she said with obvious humour in her voice.
‘Not as bad as the Assassi Oasis and the Elric Stormstrider mission,’ he chuckled and explained to her the places they had been too and the adventures on the journey so far.
‘You have all certainly made a mark on history, to say the least,’ said Bleudwed after the prince had finished talking. ‘The entire kingdom is after any scrap of information of your quest, but few stories reach us here. Some occurrences in your homeland have moved on apace, as well. Politically the King of the Vallkytes has been making enemies in his own camp.’
‘Oh how is that so?’ Havoc asked with some concern.
‘Well the parliament that convened soon after the Ancarryn in Dulan-Tiss’s assembly halls started a power shift within the camp of weaker nobles and the more powerful landowners due to this new Land Reform Bill. It seems the king wants to re-tax the Vallkyte landowners with higher tithes and stricter land rights. Although the crunch came when those landed nobles, who are in the king’s favour, were exempt from the laws set down in the bill.’
‘Let me guess,’ interrupted Havoc, ‘they are all members of the Brethac Ziggurat.’
‘Correct. The king and Cinnibar are forming a strong force of nobles and their followers into an easily controlled religious movement, but in doing so they have split apart the Vallkyte landowners that are having no part of this Brethac Order.
‘About a week ago the landowners had gathered together at Jarness in the lands of the Mutresi, organised by the strong Baron of Mutresi, Langstroum De Barrette. He had them all convinced that unity against the king was the only answer and to try to force Kasan to see sense by showing him a signed pact of the gathered nobles that were suffering from the Landowners Bill.
‘Well they signed the pact and all there swore to stand together against the might of the Brethac Order. Unfortunately, one of their number deceived them all. King Kasan heard about the gathering and sent a strong force under Prince Creed to put a stop to it all.’
‘Prince Creed?’
‘Yes, he has become a strong warrior. He wears black armour that appears to be impervious to damage and is an unstoppable force in his own right. He has a unique tactical mind as well.’
This made Havoc hesitate for a second, his half-brother was far too young to be a warrior, and his Rawn training would not be complete.
‘Creed put a stop to the gathering with cold a callous finality,’ went on the countess, ‘he surrounded the meeting hall and burnt it down with the nobles inside. Fortunately, Baron Langstroum and many others escaped via a secret route, which is probably why he chose the hall for a meeting in the first place. He has disappeared; some people believe he has gone to hide in the hills to the north of the town.
‘King Kasan called an emergency meeting of parliament and declared those signatories of the Jarness Pact, traitors. Prince Creed has taken his army, seized the traitor’s lands and claimed it for the crown. Now those who follow Baron Langstroum are called the Landless Men and are being hunted as fugitives.’
Despite these events being disturbing for the people involved in the fury of the king’s wrath, Havoc realised that his uncle’s country now seemed riven by conflict in its own civil war and would be looking inward and not outward towards his father and the Roguns.
‘Your father watches these events from afar,’ said Bleudwed when Havoc revealed his thoughts on the subject to her. ‘He also has other things to worry about.’
‘Oh?’
‘This mysterious Lord Sernac that you told me about after your incident in the Oculus Tower, it seems that Dolment has uncovered the same name, and further mention of the Brethac Ziggurat amongst Tithe Slips in a Wildlands Mastiff Fort dating back a thousand years.’
‘Hmmm…interesting, it could mean that he is a Ri to have lived so long or someone used the same title amongst the Order. Lord Ness explained to me that the word “Sernac” just means something like, “Leader of the People”, but I would like to know more about him. Pass word onto your contact in Aln-Tiss to my father. Tell him to ask Shanks about this Sernac.’
‘Shanks?’
‘Father will know who I mean.’
‘All right, I will se
nd a message tomorrow,’ the countess paused for a while, ‘Havoc I miss you, I wish you were home.’ The prince was for an instant, struck dumb. His heart fluttered in his chest. His feelings towards Bleudwed were mixed at best. The fact that she missed him made him smile.
‘I wish I could, Mulvend, but I have much to do before I return home. There is a valuable prize that I must find; however, what I value the most is you.’
‘You are kind, my lord.’ Her voice trembled slightly. He could envision her with a tear in her eye.
He had walked some distance by this time as he talked to her and stumbled across a pool of rippling water with a small waterfall on its far side. He put the fleece and soap down on a smooth rock underneath the looping branches of a large willow tree.
‘I must go now,’ said the countess, ‘but don’t wait too long to call next time Havoc.’
‘I won’t, I promise. Take care.’
When the connection was broken, Havoc sat down and pondered the ongoing tales of his homeland. All of a sudden, he felt very homesick. However if he was being honest with himself, it was really the voice of Bleudwed that urged him to return home. Love was a strange thing and the affection that the De Proteous and the Countess of Haplann felt for one another was the strangest of all.
After a while, he stripped off his white woollen shirt and folded it up placing it onto the rock. He was about to pull his boots off when he heard footsteps behind him, the newcomer never bothered to hide their approach and he heard the snap of twigs before his Rawn senses warned him that someone was there.
‘Hello Tia,’ he said without turning round.
‘Sometimes I think you have eyes in the back of your head, my lord,’ Tia sighed as she walked towards him. Havoc smiled. Maybe he had picked up some of the same talent from Baron Telmar and his uncanny ability to guess the correct persons approach just from the sound of his footsteps.
He turned and saw the beautiful girl’s hips sway from side to side as she walked. The short Wyvern skirt flowed around her slim hips and muscled thighs. She wore a thin fox fur vest that covered her chest, but revealed bare shoulders and midriff. Her brown hair, now longer, tied back in a bun showing a high forehead and small cute ears.
She smiled as she sat next to him on the rock. She had already unslung her scabbard from her back and then laid it on the ground beside Havoc’s own; it looked much shorter than SinDex.
‘Does your sword have a name?’ he asked her.
‘I call her Quillqua; it was the name of my grandmother’s cat. It means “Sharp Claws” in the old Wyani language.’
Havoc pulled off his last boot and stood up to unfasten his trouser cords when he saw Tia blush and turn her head away.
‘Um, if you wish me to leave, my lord, you have only to say,’ she stuttered.
The prince laughed. ‘Please, tell me you are not shy?’
‘No... Well, yes...it’s just that I have never seen a man naked before.’ Havoc laughed some more at that and quickly stopped as he realise he was being insulting.
‘You may have to get used to this on our voyage,’ said the prince as he dropped his trousers, ‘and if you are going to scrub my back with the soap then you will have to take your clothes off too.’ Tia turned round and gasped at Havoc’s nakedness, she then wordlessly took the soap from the princes outstretched hand.
‘So how high does the command structure of the Brethac Ziggurat go?’ asked Havoc as Tia soaped his body, moving her thin fingers through his dark chest hair. ‘Is Cinnibar the one in charge?’
‘No, not really,’ she shrugged, ‘most take orders from her, but she receives them in turn from someone called Lord Sernac.’
Havoc remained silent for a few seconds. He watched as the young woman’s breasts jiggled with the exertion of scrubbing his arms and shoulders.
‘Lord Sernac?’ he probed, hoping that Tia would unravel the mystery of this Sernac for him.
‘Yes, he is a shadowy figure, rarely seen. Although he appears on certain occasions. Sometimes it’s as if Cinnibar doesn’t know who he really is either. I have only seen him once, but never his face, he is always cloaked and hooded.’
Havoc sighed, ‘Tia I think this someone is posing as Sernac because he doesn’t actually exist…I mean he is using the name as a secret identity.’ Havoc said thoughtfully as he took the soap and felt the girl flinch with pleasure as he spread the foamy and sweet scented soap over her body. The water around them turned a bluey grey as the soap dissolved into it.
‘How can you be so sure, my lord?’ she asked looking straight into his eyes and moving closer so both of them could rub the soap over their backs.
‘Because a Sernac is an old rank used by the Elementals, at least, that’s what I’m led to believe. It was once used in the Ri Order in the past, but seldom since the days before the Dragor-rix War.’ Tia was confused for the moment, and then shrugged.
‘That is all I’m aware of, my lord. I did not rank high enough to be privy to more information. However, I will do whatever you wish,’ she said this with a flutter of her eyelashes that was very provocative.
‘Well I’m sure I can think of something,’ he said as he kissed her. Her mouth opened up to allow his probing tongue and she moaned deep in her throat. The sound of the waterfall intensified as the rush of blood in her ears increased with her heartbeat. His lean body pushed against hers and she felt how hard he was. They floated with the water to the edge and he lifted her onto the grass bank and entered her, plunging deeply. She moaned loudly into the evening sky. Soon she matched his rhythm and together they journeyed to a pleasurable utopia. Afterwards, they rested and talked for some time under the willow until they were dried from the cool breeze. The evening sun shone through the branches covering them in dappled shade. As darkness fell the stars sparkled in the night sky to form a glowing canopy of twinkling light above them.
‘I never knew it could be so much fun making love to a man,’ gasped Tia as she lay entwined in Havoc’s arms and legs.
‘We have our uses, I suppose,’ Havoc said as he nuzzled his head into her neck and used his finger to run circles around her raised nipples.
‘I know this will not last though.’
Havoc raised himself onto his elbow so he could look down at Tia’s flushed face.
‘How do you mean?’ he asked with a frown.
‘I’m from poor stock, my lord, and you are one of the most powerful men on our continent. This could not be a fulfilling relationship.’
Havoc understood. He realised how Eleana must have felt about him now. He wished his royal nobility had never got in the way of his love life.
‘Well then, promise me that when we are alone together there will be no rank or peerage between us,’ said the prince, ‘all we are is a man and a woman sharing the moment as equals. Is that good enough for now?’
Tia smiled brightly. ‘Havoc, my love, I will promise you anything.’
Havoc laughed and she spread her legs to welcome him to her again. They joined together in love and in soul, alone on the damp grass, under the watching trees as they continued to make love well into the night…
…back on the bow of the ship, Tia nuzzled her head into Havoc’s chest.
‘I wish we could go back to that day,’ she said.
‘So do I,’ whispered Havoc as he kissed the top on her head. Secretly his mind went back to Bleudwed, seeing her along in her study the last time they spoke in private, face to face. It was an awkward moment and he wished he could relive that time again just to create a different outcome. He felt that the feelings he had for the countess were stronger than those he had for Tia. He was very fond of them both, yet he and Bleudwed had shared a moment in their past when both of them were vulnerable and their bond sealed them to their fate, that much he knew from the glimpses he had seen in the Muse Orrinn.
‘Destiny,’ he mumbled into Tia’s hair.
‘Hmmmm?’ Tia said as she hugged him closer.
‘Nothing, my love, nothi
ng.’
Chapter Five
Ternquin of Assassi
C
aptain Carbaum explained in detail that his town of Ternquin was a remote trading port, the most northerly in fact of the continent’s trading routes. His people made their living selling furs, seal fats and whale oil to the traders on board their sailing ships. Havoc wished to see all of this for himself in his own way via the Muse Orrinn. After his chat on the bow with Tia, he ordered Mirryn to fly north in search of the town. Then they both sat in the warmth of his bunkroom. Tia watched him hold his sword by the hilt as he looked into the pommel; she was fascinated as the silver surface opened to reveal a snowy landscape.
Havoc had explained to Tia his, and the Blacksword’s, story. Because the Muse Orrinn was now active, the Identity Block was now in place. However, Tia’s confusion about the subject of the Blacksword now seemed less pronounced, mainly because she had figured out most of the truth for herself after witnessing the prince change in front of her own eyes. Some aspects of the block were still apparent though, he could still see her eyes glaze over at times as she tried to concentrate on the truth, but for the most part, she accepted everything he said without questioning her own confusion on the subject.
In the Orrinn, Mirryn showed him Ternquin. The town sat at the far end of a fjord about five miles long. Steep tree-covered mountains rose from the glassy surface of the sea as the slopes curved around the shore. Nestled amongst these tall pines was the town itself. Square roofed houses rose like steps up the mountainside. Others, long and multi-storeyed, sat on stilts six feet above the water of the fjord. These were the wharfs and dozens of sailing ships harboured in neat rows beside them at the dockside.
Deeper into the heart of Ternquin, about three hundred feet from the harbour, sat a huge deciduous tree with low-lying branches that skimmed the forest floor. These boughs were so big people walked along them to manmade houses built along the branches. Through the red kite’s eyes, the prince could see that the lights from these buildings littered the tree from its first branches and all the way to its top. It was clearly the largest tree Havoc had ever seen, larger than any in the Eternal Forest back home. It overlooked the town and its surrounding landscape and with the dark mountains behind it, the huge plant posed an imposing sentinel, or a beacon to guide incoming vessels.