by P D Ceanneir
Havoc knew that the punishment for the young Borath was severe, but killing him would only make him a martyr to anyone still loyal to the last of the Kelang Lords.
Bleudwed mentioned to the prince that she had sent the Regent Morden to the Wildlands to act as the Haplann ambassador, and there he was welcomed with open arms by Mad-gellan.
‘Mad-gellan has agreed to trade rights between our two countries. Food was becoming scarce since the war, so anything I could do to help him…’ said the countess.
‘That was very kind of you,’ said Havoc. ‘What of Baron Langstroum?’
‘Ah, now that ship has sailed a month ago. Since we last spoke the short-lived “Landless War”, as it was being called, was at a stalemate. Prince Creed could not get Langstroum from his hiding place in the mountains and the baron could not escape. Therefore, Langstroum sent a young and very brave servant, to seek aid from an old military friend of his. He’s an old friend of yours too.’
‘Oh, who would that be?’ Havoc leant closer to the stone, engrossed in the conversation.
‘General Elkin,’ said Bleudwed, and Havoc smiled at the mention of the great general that he defeated at the Battle of Cosshead all those years ago. Since the battle, both he and Bleudwed became good friends with the hardy old soldier. Elkin changed his allegiance to the Rogun crown, and as a result lost his title of Lord of Storridge in the Vallkyte lands. As recompense, King Vanduke gave him lordship of a small sheep farming village just north of Perwood, called Laden Howe. The new Lord of Laden Howe settled in to his small stone keep and enjoyed his retirement from the military. Although why he kept a small force of his feared Bellmen veterans was beyond Havoc.
‘The good general found the servant half dead on a mountain slope,’ continued the countess. ‘He had run for two weeks without food and little water. General Elkin admired his stamina and it gave him heart to go to his friend’s aid. He marched the Bellmen over the spine of the Tattoium Ridge, through the grasslands of the Dulan Plain and sneaked around Prince Creed’s army to extract Baron Langstroum and his men from the mountains. It happened so quickly that Creed did not discover it for another three days. By that time, the general and the baron were well ahead of him. The prince gave chase, but the Bellmen saw off his vanguard before they reached the safety of the Tattoium Ridge.’
The countess chuckled at the princes sudden cheering and waited for him calm down.
‘The first place Elkin took Langstroum and his followers was to your father. The king offered them sanctuary only if they swore fealty to him, which they did without argument. Your father publicly denounced the Landowners Bill, claiming it is an “unlawful blight in an unlawful land”, he then did something quite brilliant, politically.’
‘Which was?’ Havoc asked.
‘Well, remember the War Crimes trial against King Kasan?’
‘Of course, I was there.’
‘King Kasan has always mocked the trial as a sham and refused to accept the copy of the Article of Crimes that was sent to him. Nevertheless, your father has never forgotten about it and from some dusty corner, he had extracted his own copy and urged Langstroum and his followers to sign it, which they did, not only them but also hundreds more. Most from the Rogun lands, others from independent Vallkyte nobles who see the Brethac Ziggurat as a threat. This has allowed some of Kasan’s followers to leave him, weakening his position in the Vallkyte parliament and undermining his power in the order.’
‘Brilliant!’ said Havoc, ‘my father is a genius.’
‘True, looks like I can learn a thing or two from him myself.’
‘My uncle will not be happy about this. The defection of Langstroum and the defeat of Mad-borath is a serious blow to his cause.’
‘Correct, he was in a rage for days, apparently. Creed has not been recalled to Dulan-Tiss and I’ve heard he swears to kill Elkin the next time they meet.’
‘Elkin’s Bellmen Infantry will rip him to pieces; I know what it is like to fight them,’ informed the prince.
Then the countess’s voice became serious.
‘There is something else. This battle armour of Creed’s is believed to be enchanted by Cinnibar. We believe it to be indestructible like SinDex.’
‘That’s impossible, Pyromancium is only found in the blade of the Blacksword. And who is this “we”?’
‘The “we”, is my spies in Sonora and Dulan-Tiss! Unfortunately, my spy in Dulan-Tiss has gone missing. So too has your father’s spy, Lord Ketrigan.’
‘Ketrigan, Missing? I knew the man was playing a dangerous game but...’
‘I think it has something to do with the arrival of this Lord Sernac!’ said the countess. Havoc gripped the Lobe Stone tighter.
‘He has shown himself?’ Havoc asked.
‘It appears so; he has only come on the scene these last few weeks and seems to hold a lot of influence in King Kasan’s court.’
‘Did you send word to my father to ask Shanks about him?’
‘I did, but this Shanks knows little about this mysterious Sernac. However, he did warn your father that he is extremely dangerous.’
Havoc nodded, ‘That’s upsetting. I though Shanks would know something.’
‘Who is this Shanks?’
Havoc hesitated before answering. He did not want to appear too secretive to Bleudwed, for he trusted her implicitly. However, she did not need to know all the answers, just yet.
‘He is an old friend from fathers past who has lived in Dulan-Tiss for a long time. He has insights into the Brethac working that may help us.’
Bleudwed seemed to acknowledge this as fact when she carried on.
‘I must go now, Havoc,’ she said. ‘I have a meeting with trade delegates from Keveni. Do not leave it too long before we speak again. I miss you.’
‘I miss you too. Goodbye.’
She severed the connection and Havoc was left looking at the stone for some time as he pondered the information the countess had divulged.
There came the sound of a boot treading softly in the snow behind him from the woods, faint, but close. Whoever it was, he was a practised stalker, a professional who could move fast when needed. He was so close now Havoc could smell the lingering pipe smoke in the air.
‘You can come out now Gunach,’ said Havoc.
‘Och, bugger! Should’ve known better than to creep up on a Rawn Master.’ Grumbled the dwarf as he quickened his steps and sat down next to the prince; what surprised Havoc the most was how close Gunach actually got before he detected him.
‘I can usually sneak up to Ercat without him finding out and I have also done the same to Lord Ness, you should have seen the look on his face,’ he chuckled. ‘You, however…’ At this point, Gunach shook his head. The plaited beard swung from left to right. ‘Very difficult, who were you talking to?’
Havoc knew his friend was not being nosey.
‘I do not mean to pry...well bugger it, yes, I do... The others,’ Gunach jerked his chin back towards camp, ‘think you are in a bad mood because of the fight with Tia earlier. I came to cheer you up, Kervunder.’
Havoc actually laughed at that, and then he looked at Gunach and his small blue eyes with the laughter lines at the temples. He thought about Bleudwed and his father, the talisman and Mortkraxnoss, the Gredligg Orrinn and the troubles back home, but no such worry was evident in the dwarf’s eyes, Havoc envied him.
He still had his hand on the Lobe Stone, hidden in the folds of the furs that covered his armour. Lord Ness and Powyss were the only ones who knew of his conversations with Bleudwed, he sighed and brought out the stone.
‘Do you know what this is?’ he asked as the dwarf looked at it for a few seconds.
‘Domantunthör Tenthüngigh, in my language, Lobe Stone in yours, the first time I saw one was in the mitts of the Drakken, the second time was in the hands of Tia’, he said as he took it out of the prince’s hands and rolled it around in his. It looked big as he held it in his small pudgy fingers.
&nbs
p; ‘She was using it as a beacon for the storm, right?’
‘Yes, to which she is extremely repentant about. She and I have closed subject, entirely. This is actually her. Cinnibar gave it to her. I use it to contact the Countess of Haplann, she had the Drakken’s one. She tells me all that has happened back home.’
Gunach sat quietly and waited for Havoc to continue. The prince told him everything. Mad-gellan’s victory, Langstroum and Elkin, Kasan and the Brethac Ziggurat. The dwarf was even interested in Creed’s armour, but when Havoc finished Gunach asked him a very strange question, which was totally off subject.
‘Did the Blacksword kill Verkin?’ he said.
Chapter Nine
The Storm Child
T
here was a saying amongst the descendants of the Elementals of Ternquin. “Life comes with the warm currents of the sea, but death comes from the cold north wind.”
The Vallkyte Sky Ships were coming from the north having taken a long detour to avoid the Epicentre’s danger zone. Now with the Ternquin headland and the mouth of its fjord in sight, Admiral Hurnac ordered the other five Sky Ships to land on the sea and hide in one of the many inlets that peppered the shore. Lord Fowyn and Serena were already on board the Admirals flagship, the Vergenion. They braced themselves for the landing as the beautiful white ship thumped with a jarring shudder onto the water.
The admiral gave orders to cut the Wind Orrinn power from the hull and adjust the sails for sea sailing. Once the ship was on its way, the crew and the ships contingent of soldiers prepared themselves for battle.
At last, after long months of searching they had found the path to Mortkraxnoss at Ternquin, and the Cybeleion.
The dwarf’s question took Havoc by surprise.
‘What...no, he...what makes you say that?’ he asked him.
Gunach sighed and looked deep into the princes green eyes, his beard twitched at the sides into a reassuring smile.
‘I know the shape a blade makes on a wound, my own made weapons especially. I would recognise the cut and stab of the SinDex anywhere and poor Verkin was killed by it, was he not?’
Havoc found himself nodding, he felt like a berated child under the Master Smiths stare.
‘I have not had the heart to confront you until now. I came to this conclusion by simply knowing that only you or the Blacksword can wield the Sword that Rules,’ said Gunach.
‘Not so, apparently Drakkens can also.’ Havoc explained everything to Gunach about that fateful night that marked the loss of one of their friends. As he spoke, he noticed the dwarfs eyebrows raise in understanding.
‘...so you see the Fire Orrinn did not work on the Drakken,’ informed Havoc.
‘It should have,’ Gunach pulled the tugs out of his beard with his stubby fingers as he stared off into the distance, deep in thought. ‘The only other explanation is Bloodline.’
At the mention of the word, the Blacksword instantly woke from his slumber. Havoc was so surprised that he gasped. Gunach mistook it for something he said and gave back an apologetic look.
Bloodline down through the ages, said the Blacksword in a whimsical whisper, Bloodline continues to the last.
Havoc wondered where the Blacksword’s comments came from, but he felt that they meant something profound. There were times that his alter ego showed the blossoming of a unique cognitive ability
‘Bloodline?’ asked Havoc, more to the Blacksword rather than Gunach.
Gunach glanced at the prince then looked away just as quickly.
‘It will be difficult for you to hear this, Kervunder, but I believe the corpse that made the Drakken was a relation of yours. You see those closely related to you by blood should, in theory, be able to wield the Sword that Rules without being...’
‘I know…at least I have come to that conclusion. You see, you are more right than you know,’ said Havoc pale faced. ‘Tia was there when the Drakken was created. She told me the human flesh used in the ritual was the stillborn baby of my mother and Kasan’s.’
‘Ah, right, I’m sorry to hear that,’ Gunach placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder. ‘Is that why you are angry with Tia?’
‘No, she told me all this a while ago. When we were in the Brethac cave in fact, before she renounced her oaths to the Havant Order. If I had known about the swords Bloodline then I would have figured it out for myself, anyway.’
The dwarf nodded. ‘I like Tia,’ he said and the prince smiled at the dwarf’s wide grin. ‘She would make someone a good wife one day. But not a mistress to a king, I think.’ Havoc’s smile faded. Gunach was only stating the obvious and it made him sad knowing there was a future that he and Tia could not have.
‘I also like Bleudwed,’ said Gunach playfully nudging the prince in the arm. ‘She has a shine for you too, I am thinking. I may be a hundred and forty two and short sighted, but these eyes never miss a thing.’
‘Alright, alright, you can play matchmaker when we get home,’ said Havoc chuckling.
‘Very well,’ said Gunach getting to his feet, ‘let’s go, and tell the others.’
‘Tell the others?’
‘Yes, tell them all the news from their homeland. They are your friends and loyal subjects, and they deserve to know about Mad-gellan’s victory over Mad-borath.’
‘Yes I suppose you are right, as usual,’ Havoc said as he walked back through the woods with Gunach. ‘Are you really a hundred and forty two?’
‘Yes, but only in dwarf years.’
‘How long is a dwarf year?’
‘We dwarves only class your year as six months of our own,’ informed Gunach in a slightly evasive tone.
‘So you’re actually two hundred and eighty four years old?’ Havoc smirked.
Gunach grunted with annoyance.
‘Tell anyone, Kervunder, and Blacksword or not, I will bring down a painful retribution upon you that would even make the Earth Mother cringe in agony!’ The dwarf said this in a light tone and with a humorous twinkle in his eyes.
Havoc laughed and held up his hands. ‘Your secret is safe with me… old man.’
Back at the camp, Lord Ness had risked starting a small fire at the back of the cave so the men could heat up water and have their oat and whey mix rations. This would keep them warm throughout the night. Captain Carbaum and his small group of five men wore lumpy wolf skins and did not mind the cold as much as the armour wearing Paladins. With a quilted duck feather waistcoat under their armour and a thick fur coat each, the prince’s friends still felt the chill, but neither complained. Mannheim still wore his blue robe with many layers of clothes underneath it. He travelled alone. No other Wards assisted him. He was watchful and wary as he sat hunched in the corner of the shallow cave. The shadow from the fire played across his face, his deep-set eyes giving him a cruel countenance. He resolutely ignored Lord Ness and in turn, completely ignored by Carbaum and his men.
When the prince and Gunach arrived from the woods, they all sat and listened to the news of home that Havoc had heard from Bleudwed. All of the Paladins cheered at the news of Mad-gellan’s victory and plied the prince with a barrage of questions.
As the night wore on, the questions changed to enquiring about the task that was set for them in the coming morning’s trip.
‘So, Captain Carbaum,’ said Havoc, as he sat back on his rain cape after eating some warm oats and a handful of Wintersnow berries they had collected on the way up the path. ‘What more can you tell me more about this Nicbetha?’
Carbaum cleaned his tin cup with a handful of snow then packed it away into his backpack. He then sat next to Havoc as he told him all he could about the Nicbetha.
‘She was not one of us,’ he said, ‘she came at the time of the great storm when my great-great grandfather was still a child, yes, she is very old. The storm, I heard, was so violent it surrounded our mountainous dominion for weeks and cut us off from the sea trade routes and other villages. It was a desperate time for my people. Our supplies were running out an
d the storm damaged many homes. For security, everyone went to the safety of the Bauhaus. The Huge Ternquin Tree stood like a defiant guardian against the wrath of the storm. When the tempest finally abated...’ the captain looked absent-mindedly into the fire. ‘...well, that was when she came.’
‘We called her Thygurn in those days, which is an old Mubean word meaning Storm Child,’ said Mannheim as if to no one in particular. Havoc had almost forgotten he was there. The Archward looked so small in his dark nook at the back of the cave, draped in his cloak and furs. He too was looking into the fire. ‘It was on the very morn of the storm’s end that some of our people found the shipwreck just off the cost of Maidenheads point, three miles from Ternquin.’ He said, ‘there were no survivors to be found, no bodies of sailors, just floating debris. Then a large casket, small and made of a dark wood unknown to these lands, was found washed up on the beach.’
‘A child, female, with beautiful golden hair lay in the casket,’ continued Carbaum. ‘She couldn’t be any older than eighteen months and yet she survived the storm. My people thought it was a miracle.’
‘It was not until much later that it was agreed she brought the storm in the first place,’ scoffed Mannheim.
‘Yes, true,’ said Carbaum, ‘but in the meantime she was looked after by my great-great grandfather’s nanny, Yana, who doted on her as she grew. Jannol, my great-great grandfather, grew up with her and they became as close as brother and sister. She was intelligent, beautiful and caring. Much respected in the town where she grew up. When she reached puberty, that’s when things changed.’
‘Yes, the dreams she had,’ cut in the Archward, ‘terrible night terrors. She would always say she walked amongst the dead at night.’
‘Maybe that was true, because she never woke in her bed, so it was said,’ said the captain.