Deragan Sword Prophecy
Book 1
Kainan
‘One night will change his life forever’
Rosemary Lynch
Deragan Sword Prophecy
Book 1
Kainan
Copyright Ó Rosemary Lynch 01/10/2011
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by
photocopying or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage or retrieval systems,
without permission from both the copyright owner
and the publisher of this book.
This book is dedicated to my father
James H Turnham
25 August 1938 - 26 November 2000
Acknowledgments
A big thank you to my husband Paul, you are my biggest inspiration xx.
My three children, Charlotte, Melissa and Jake for believing in me and for putting up with my continuous tapping on the lap top and scratching with a pen.
I Love you all so very much.
With special thanks to my mum, Jennifer Swanston and step-dad Jack Thorpe for your support and for always being there for me.
To my mother-in-law Jacqueline Lynch for her continued support and endless proof reading, with this book and the ones to follow.
For my Aunt Eileen
And a big thank you to all at Sure Start Children’s Centre in Swindon, past and present, for their encouragement and for pushing me to get this book published.
And finally, to all my friends, proof readers and everyone
who has supported me.
Dreams can come true, never give up
Prelude
It had been well into the early hours of the morning before the revellers had finally given into sleep or were too drunk to care and had simply passed out. Now Kainan lay awake in his bed, his eyes wide. Still charged from his twenty first birthday party he just couldn’t sleep. He looked across at his brother Michael and then sniggered to himself. He was out cold, mouth open and snoring loudly. Kainan sat up and looked at his bow and arrows which were leant against the side of his bed. Quickly pulling on his clothes he grabbed them and headed quietly out of the door. He checked on his mother and his younger brother and then snuck into the kitchen grabbing a few supplies before slipping out into the darkness unseen; completely unaware of the nightmare that was about to descend upon his village.
***
There were many and they had completely surrounded the village. Edging in closer like a pack of wolves they moved in with ease and grace. Smooth, quick and noiselessly they swept through the village. Its people lay sleeping, wrapped in the warmth of their beds, oblivious as to what was about to befall them. The Dark Elves were searching for someone. Their instructions had been clear, find the boy and leave no survivors. The Gorzars, huge, heavily muscled creature’s hell bent on revenge stood and watched in the shadows as the massacre began. The wind howled and ripped around the village muffling their cries and screams as the Dark Elves began their hunt. Like a tidal wave they flooded the village, strategically moving along until each home had been searched. Death was not an option for these people; it was a state of fact. Finally they came across the home of Marianna, the boy’s mother.
Having fulfilled their deadly task the Dark Elves re-grouped, heading back into the depths of the forest and moving on to their next mission. However the boy was not there nor would his mother reveal where he was.
The Gorzars would wait……………….
One - Dawn of Fate
The moonlight speckled through the tops of the trees as he crept along what appeared to be animal tracks freshly worn with the footprints of deer. Then a short distance away a deer nibbled sapling freshly stripped of its bark a few feet from the ground. Now he knew the deer were close, these were all good signs to an experienced hunter like him. Kainan stopped suddenly cocking his head to one side, he listened. Something was coming. The fox stopped in its tracks when it saw him and eyed him warily for a moment, before nonchalantly continuing on across the track in front of him. He smiled, watching as the fox slinked back into the undergrowth. Kainan continued cautiously trying not to let the ground cover crack beneath his booted feet.
The tracks then stopped as the forest opened wide into a leafy glade. The fingers of an early morning mist crept its way across the ground, and the night sky above brightened with the approach of dawn. His heart skipped a beat when he saw them; adrenaline began to course through his veins as slowly and carefully he crouched down among the thorny gorse. Pushing his thick dark hair out of his eyes he took a quiet breath and slowly and steadily he withdrew two arrows from his quiver. Placing one of them in between his teeth he raised his bow and nocked the other into place. He held it steady, aiming at the group of deer grazing on the grasses less than twenty yards in front of him. Moving the point of his arrow along each one in turn, his eyes fell upon a young doe; she stood separated from the rest of the herd quietly nibbling on the leaves of a young sapling. His brow creasing as he concentrated, his dark eyes staring fixed upon his prey, Kainan drew back and fired. The arrow sprung from its bow string at lightning speed straight across the glade, through the mist and into the heart of the doe killing her instantly. Jumping up from his crouching position and whipping the spare arrow from his mouth he cheered triumphantly, it was a perfect shot! He grinned congratulating himself; his family would eat well tonight; and he was certain even with two greedy brothers to feed, that she would keep them in meat for a good week.
Kainan was both an excellent archer and a skilled swordsman, abilities that had come naturally and easily to him over the years. His father had died when he was very young and so from an early age he had become self-reliant on his own skills and the family’s main provider. He was independent and strong willed and when he set his mind to something, nothing would stop him from achieving it. Now he had grown into a fine strong man having just turned twenty one. His long dark hair was wild and let loose and his face was striking with fine strong features. His clothes were pretty basic; he wore his black leather boots fastened high to the knee over dark brown leather trousers, he had on a white tunic under a leather waistcoat and a brown deer skin cloak clasped around his throat, to protect him from the elements. His family were by no means wealthy but thanks to Kainan’s determination and hard work they managed to live quite comfortably. By trade he was a carpenter, having taken over his father’s old workshop as soon as he was able to control a blade. His middle brother Michael was an up and coming carpenter too and together they ran their business, quite successfully, from the barn at the back of their house in the village of Oakhurst; A village which lay deep within a lush green valley surrounded by the ancient oak forest in the east of Zyon.
Upon hearing Kainan’s cry of victory the rest of the herd quickly scattered back into the cover of the trees. Grinning again at his own success he placed the spare arrow back into his quiver. Quickly picking up his small backpack which contained his water bottle and some basic food rations, he slung it over his shoulder. He glanced up at the rising sun, it was nearly daybreak. The adrenaline rush of the kill had made him feel suddenly hungry and he found himself thinking about breakfast. Placing his bow over his neck and shoulder he walked over to the doe. Squatting down carefully he gently stroked her fine soft fur. He had been right she was indeed a good size, and there was plenty of meat on her young bones. He ran his hand across her chest and pulled out his arrow. Scrunching his nose he examined it, rolling the arrow head between his finger and thumb. Then deciding that it still had some life left in it he wiped off the deer’s blood onto the dewy grass an
d popped it back into his quiver. Opening his pack and reaching inside he pulled out some twine and began binding the doe’s feet together to make her more manageable for the journey home. Glancing back up at the rising sun his mind wandered; as it looked like it was going to be another fine day maybe if they were not too hung-over he would take his younger brothers Michael and Ryall fishing down on the lake. If there was one thing his brothers loved it was fishing. And if luck really was on his side today they may even catch a loguenmast, he smiled at the thought. It was his favourite fish, large and succulent and with a few herbs sprinkled on top it was absolutely delicious, then what a feast they would have and he felt his stomach rumble at such a prospect.
Wiping his hands down his trousers and reaching into his pack he pulled out a muslin cloth and un-wrapping it he breathed in deep inhaling the aroma of the freshly baked bread and goat’s cheese that he had swiped from his mother’s kitchen before he left. Standing back up he looked about and then wandering a few paces he perched himself on the edge of a fallen oak and began munching hungrily on the bread. He noticed a cluster of mushrooms hugging the fallen tree upon which he was sat, so reaching down he picked one, giving it a quick brush with his hand before popping it into his mouth.
He smiled to himself as he thought of the night just gone. It had been a fantastic party for his twenty first and nearly the entire village had come to join in with the celebrations. He chuckled most of the men would be waking up with sore heads this morning, including his brothers. Both somewhat worse for wear from drinking too much beer he had left them both warm in their beds sleeping it off. He too had had a belly full of beer but instead of feeling worse for wear he actually felt the complete opposite, full of energy and wide awake, so he had decided to go on a hunt. He turned his gaze to the autumnal colours of the oaks that surrounded him; the beauty of the forest fascinated him, especially this time of year when the mornings were crisp and fresh and intricately woven webs covered in tiny dew drops twinkled on every bush. It was a magical place, calming and almost surreal. He enjoyed being alone in the stillness of the forest, it gave him time to think about what he was going to do with his life. Ever since he could remember he had felt a strange sense of loneliness that tore at his heart and it was not something he could explain or understand as he had no rational explanation for it. His mother and brothers were always there for him and he had lots of friends in the village, but part of him still felt empty and alone. He looked down to the mark on the palm of his left hand, it worried him. No one could explain what it was or how it came to be there. The mark had suddenly appeared yesterday morning; it was a pentagram surrounded by a circle and it was embossed into his flesh.
Pushing his thoughts aside he continued eating his bread. He pulled out the knife John had given to him for his birthday and flicked it about in his hand; it truly was a work of art. John, his best friend was a blacksmith by trade but loved to tinker about with swords and blades and this had to be the finest piece he had ever seen him make. He un-wrapped his cheese and using the knife he cut it into smaller chunks before using the point to stab a piece and pop it into his mouth. After he had finished he cleaned it and put it back into a sheath on his belt. Standing up he threw his last piece of bread to a curious squirrel who had been sitting watching him with hungry eyes. Eagerly the squirrel snatched up the bread and he watched as the squirrel fled to the top of the trees with his prize. Smiling to himself he closed up his back pack, threw it over his head and across his left shoulder and pulling the strap tightly across his chest he walked back over to the doe. Bending down on one knee he lifted her up throwing her around his neck like a scarf. He gripped each side of her bound feet and jostled her about a bit until she sat comfortably on his broad muscular shoulders and then steadily and without rushing he made his way back through the dense forest. He knew the way only too well as it was one of his favourite hunting routes and he often travelled it at this time of year as he knew the mushrooms would be plentiful.
By early-morning he was through the forest emerging onto the brow of a steep hill, it was such a beautiful morning, the sky was a deep blue and the suns’ golden rays were glowing brightly spanning out across his valley. He took in a deep breath inhaling the crisp, fresh air. He frowned concerned and inhaled again more deeply, he could smell smoke quite strongly in the breeze and it puzzled as to where it was coming from. Just ahead of him was the start of the rocky pathway that would lead him down the steep incline of the hill and back into his valley below, he smiled, soon he would be home. Moving towards the start of the path his eyes followed the silver shimmer of the river as it ran down the opposite hill feeding into his valley below and then on into his village. Suddenly his eyes widened and he was not quite sure if he could believe what he was seeing. Stepping forward further he squinted shielding his eyes with the back of his hand as he looked harder. It was smoke he could smell and it was coming from the heart of his village; it made him go cold to the bone as he stared at the bright orange flames roaring across the tops of the houses, black smoke billowing furiously spiralling high and blackening the morning sky. Kainan’s heart pounded fearfully and his breathing quickened as panic began to overwhelm him. His village was under attack, but who the hell would want to attack them? His valley had been at peace for decades and they had no enemies that he knew of and they were certainly no threat to anyone that was for sure. Then as his mind flashed through all the horrific possibilities all he knew for certain was that he had to get home fast.
He lifted the doe up and off his shoulders and threw her with such a force that she hit the ground with an almighty thud. He didn’t spare a moment to watch as her body bounced over the edge and began rolling down the steep hill, finally tearing into shreds as she hit the rocks below. All his thoughts were on home and Kainan began to run in earnest. He ignored the graduated path that he would normally have taken, opting instead to clamber down the steep incline of the hill. Giving no thought to the precarious ground that was beneath his feet he ran as fast as he could, slipping and sliding his way down. Throwing out his arms he tried to balance himself but abruptly lost his footing and went down. Pitching forward he began tumbling head over heels down the ruggedness of the slope. Grabbing his hands out wildly he grasped desperately at everything and anything, until he managed to stop himself by grabbing hold of some protruding bushes; but it was not before he had injured himself against one of the many rocks that jutted out. Cursing out-loud he picked himself back up and held his hand over the gash in his left arm trying to stem the bleeding; but even that would not slow him down. His heart pounding painfully in his chest he forced himself to push on even faster.
Trying to steady himself he turned sideways and continued clambering downwards into the valley below. His breathing was now coming in fast and ragged gasps and cold sweat drenched his reddened face making his long dark hair stick uncomfortably to his skin.
On reaching the bottom he ran along the edge of the river that separated him from his village. At its narrowest point he jumped in and began clambering precariously one by one across the rocks that jutted out of the water. Like stepping stones they stretched from one side of the river bank to the other. He slipped off one of the rocks half way across the river and landed in the water and although it was shallow the water still filled his boots. He waded across the rest of the way and then clambered up the side of the embankment. Although near to exhaustion he picked up the pace again and began running across the meadow. His boots still heavy with water began squelching as the muddied earth below him sucked at his heels making it even more tiring for him. Horses grazing nearby startled by his sudden appearance began neighing furiously at him and he glanced only briefly at them as he ran on side jumping over the wooden fence that surrounded the meadow.
His eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he reached the entrance to his village. Held frozen by the horror that greeted him he held his right hand over a painful stitch in his side as he panted hard to catch his breath. Sweat clung to hi
s shaking body and ran like water down his face. Using the sleeve of his cloak he wiped the sweat away from his forehead and the sides of his cheeks. He stared for a moment before revulsion suddenly gripped his stomach and turned it inside out. Ahead of him his fellow villagers lay dead, their bodies had been mutilated most of them were beyond recognition; it was the scene of a massacre. Smoke billowed furiously as the buildings all around him burned and the darkest black cloud he had ever seen hung over his village like a veil of death. He was unable to take it all in; this was not the work of bandits or thieves. It was as if they had all been savaged by some evil creature.
Bending over he braced his hands upon his knees and took in a few long deep breaths; he was exhausted and felt incredibly dizzy and sick. Rising back to his full height he made himself walk on even though increasing fear for his family rose through him with every step he took. He covered his nose with the sleeve of his cloak trying to stop the appalling stench of death from burning into his nostrils. Glancing all around he could see more bodies burned beyond recognition, lying in what was left of their decimated homes; he made his way slowly through the horror. He could not begin to imagine why or who would do such a terrible thing to so many people and it was not just the adults. Kainan felt his eyes begin to weep and his hand rose to wipe away his tears as he saw the bodies of children, innocents who didn’t have a chance. He shook his head painfully. He knew these children these families, most he had seen only the night before at his birthday in the tavern. Why would anyone do this, take such precious young lives, he could not understand it at all. What were these attackers looking for?
Deragan Sword Prophecy: Book 01 - Kainan Page 1