Deragan Sword Prophecy: Book 01 - Kainan

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Deragan Sword Prophecy: Book 01 - Kainan Page 41

by Rosemary Lynch


  Together our souls entwine for always

  Our powers be one

  This is our vow

  In this life and all lives that follow

  A bright light fizzled between their hands and they held fast for a few moments, before releasing them. Together they then laid the Deragan Sword down.

  “Kainan, there is something I must do first.” She reached over to her bag and pulled out her bowl. Carefully she mixed together some powder. Undid a vial of yellow liquid and poured it on, the yellow liquid fizzled as it made contact with the powder. She looked up at his puzzled face.

  “Will you light it for me?” Nodding, he reached forward with his finger. “Illumanartry,” he whispered igniting the end of his finger and pointing the flame at the liquid. It gave out a sweet pungent fragrance as smoke began to pour from the bowl. Kainan shook out the flame.

  “What is it?” he asked curiously, she looked into his deep dark eyes.

  “It is a spell.” He cocked his head to one side.

  “What for?”

  “It will stop me falling with child and will remain in place until such time as I break it.” Kainan smiled as he watched her lean over the smoke, chanting quietly to herself she closed her eyes. Her hand wafted the potion towards her face and she inhaled deeply. Kainan watched her intensely, his heart pounding. As the flame and smoke fizzled out she opened her eyes. Lifted the bowl to her lips then drank what was left of the concoction.

  “There it is done,” she whispered, placing the bowl to one side and looking at him. Her eyes were wide and glowing.

  Kainan swallowed hard, hardly able to control the overwhelming desire he felt for her. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed shakily as he took hold of her. Placing her arms around his neck she pulled his head down to hers. She could wait for him no longer, her mouth inviting, their lips met hungrily.

  Slowly with trembling fingers he undid the corset ties of her under-dress. Her breasts heaved as he lifted her dress up and over her head and discarded it to one side. He looked at her, she was a beautiful, sensual woman and he loved her so much that it hurt. Kainan’s hand cupped her face as he kissed her mouth, then the hollow of her throat. His other hand moved to the small of her back, stroking her in little circles. Arweyn’s back arched at the touch of his fingers; she breathed deep gasping with pleasure. Then slowly his hand slipped up the line of her spine, sending shivers through her. Her skin was so soft, so smooth, his left hand urgently moved around the front of her. Cupping her left breast he squeezed tenderly as his mouth moved down her throat. She threw her head back, and her hair tumbled wildly behind her. Closing her eyes her hands grasped frantically through his hair. Slowly he kissed every part of her and she cried with pleasure as parts of her body that she never knew existed flared into life, sending exciting, tingling feelings throughout her entire body. Gently, but forcefully, he pushed her onto her back. She lay back willingly, desperate for him.

  Removing his under-shorts, his firm muscular body pushed against hers. He continued kissing and caressed every part of her body until she cried with pleasure. Her hands grasped desperately at him, pulling him to her. She kissed his neck, his chest, feeling every part of him. Sweat ran off his bare back over the swell of his muscles. Little sounds escaped with her panting breaths. Wrapping her legs around his, she gasped, crying out with pleasure. Kainan moaned as he made love to her, kissing her desperately. Such pleasure consumed him that the world around him spun into oblivion.

  She cried as she clung to him, she didn’t want it to ever end. Sparkles of magical light surrounded them, swirling around their bodies as they joined; but they didn’t notice, they were so lost in each other, that nothing else in the world mattered. Holding her tight he kissed her, she was incredible and she was his world. Their bodies wet with heated sweat, Kainan whispered, breathless. “I love you Arweyn, with all my heart,” pulling her in closer, he rubbed his face against her. “I love you Kainan.” Arweyn replied nuzzling into his strong arms. She ran her fingers down his chest to his navel and he quivered. Never had she felt so happy, so loved, so safe.

  Nineteen -Escape

  “Sir!” A desperate cry came through the stillness of the early evening shadows. A young soldier, who could have been no more than seventeen years old, came running towards the largest of the seven white tents that sat grouped together on the outskirts of the forest of Malgar. The Captain stood up immediately from his chair.

  “What is it soldier?” he questioned, as the boy burst through into his tent. Captain Irving sat at a table, on top of which was a pile of papers that he had been reading through; he glanced up.

  “Captain Irving Sir, you must come quickly.” Standing up the Captain walked towards the boy, he could sense the rising panic in the young soldier’s voice.

  A small battalion of one hundred and fifty of the King’s men had been sent by Lord Lothar to guard the portal on the outskirts of the great forest. The portal had been shut down soon after the people returned to Malgar and had lain dormant ever since. However, the King feared that if the banishment spells did indeed fail without the power of the Ardor Crystal to hold it in place, and if their enemies were to discover the portal on Zyon which led to Malgar, they would be open to attack.

  “It’s the portal Sir it is opening, look.” The soldier cried, turning hastily and rushing back out of the tent. The Captain followed the boy and watched as his shaking hand pointed towards the portal which sat away back from their position within a large clearing. There was a great rumbling noise coming from within and they could feel the tremor of its power beneath their booted feet. A circle of green and white light had begun to spin and swirl within the circle, drawing on the power of gateway.

  “MEN!” the Captain yelled, pulling his sword from its sheath and striding towards them. “We have incoming, take arms,” he ordered. At once the army of men gathered around the entrance to the portal, their swords raised ready.

  “Captain, what do you think it is?” The boy questioned, the fear in his voice was all too obvious. The Captain looked at him and shook his head. “I don’t know solider.” They waited, anxiously watching as the portal continued swirling. They had no idea what it was that was about to enter Malgar, be it friend or foe. Then a huge gust of wind blasted outwards, the soldiers raising their hands covered their eyes, protecting themselves as dust and debris flew towards them. Then the first image of the intruder emerged, the Captain’s eyes widened in utter disbelief, and a hot rush of panic swept through him. His gaze swept across his men, at the fate he knew now awaited them.

  “DARK ELVES!” the Captain cried, raising his sword ready for the imminent attack. His soldiers were lined up ready; row upon row all one hundred and fifty of them. Within moments Dark Elves began to pour through the portal and into Malgar. The Captain and his men fell upon the Elves, swords clashed hard, the ringing noise of metal upon metal echoed all around them as they tried desperately to get to the gate to try and shut the portal down.

  Blooded sweat poured off the Captain as he fought alongside his men, the impact of so many at once threw the soldiers backwards, but they fought back determinedly. Their swords flashing wildly against their attackers and for a few desperate moments the Captain and his men withstood the savage rush. Then they were beaten back, bloodied, as more and more Elves came through the portal. A hard and fierce battle ensued but they were soon overwhelmed.

  The Elves were tall and slender, their faces sharp and determined, their ears pointed and their dark long hair flowed wildly about them. Each wore a golden headband with an ancient inscription marked upon it across their foreheads. They were dark and sinister, dressed in black leather from head to toe, with a steel chest plate which covered their torsos. Their swords were slim but deadly and the silver hilt rose up their arms to their elbows almost as if they were at one with the sword. Fear had now struck the hearts of his men, screams of pain tore through the forest as confusion and panic began to grip them. It was nothing they had seen the l
ike of before. In fact none of the young soldiers had even seen a real battle in their short lives, let alone fought one.

  Captain Irving and his men fought hard but there were just too many of them, they were easily outnumbered three to one. Agile and eager the Elves flew at them without mercy, striking them down one by one. Captain Irving and his men were forced backwards by the sheer number; he gave the order to retreat to the forest as the onslaught continued.

  The Captain turned to the young soldier who fought loyally by his side, the boy was bloodied and bruised and gasping for breath. They were beaten, he knew this. Wiping the blooded sweat which poured from his brow the Captain took a sharp intake of air, trying to catch his breath. He turned urgently to the young soldier who had first brought him the cry.

  “RUN Soldier, RUN as you have never run before! You must warn the King before they reach the city. Stop for nothing do you hear me. NOTHING!” Without hesitation the boy soldier nodded, saluting his captain. Quickly turning he began running as fast as he could towards the trees. He didn’t look back; his focus remained on the darkness and the cover of the trees ahead of him. An arrow flew past him then another, then one arrow struck him. Crying as the arrow pierced into his neck, he stumbled, pitching forward and falling hard to the ground. Grabbing the arrow the young boy bravely pulled it out of his neck. He cried aloud as blood poured from his wound. Gathering his strength, he knew he had to keep moving; he pulled himself to his feet and kept on running. He would not stop those were his orders.

  The Captain watched their only hope as he ran desperately to get to the cover of the trees. He was almost there. Then the Captain’s heart sank as he watched the boy fall, wounded. Then he stood up and continued running; the Captain watched in awe at the boy’s bravery. His eyes then instantly shot across the battlefield towards the archer who had struck the boy down. The Captain began to run, warding off the blows struck at him; he slashed his way to get to the archer. Jumping and lunging forward he raised his sword striking down the archer in one swift sharp movement. The young solider dared a quick look behind him as he entered the cover of the trees, and saw the Captain strike the archer down. The boy’s hesitation only lasted for a few moments, but it was long enough for him to see the three men that had just emerged from the forest further along from him. It was long enough for him to see who they were, and what they were about to do.

  “Captain from the forest,” another solider yelled, pointing to the edge of the clearing. Captain Irving spun back around. He could see three men approaching, and he smiled with relief as he began running towards them, pointing behind him.

  “My Lord we are being consumed. There are too many of them you must send for more men immediately. We need to stop them from reaching the Kingdom,” he urged breathlessly.

  Lord Detaine smiled smugly as he, Lord Lothar and Prince Gareion approached the battle scene. Stepping forward and withdrawing his sword, Lord Detaine screamed at the Captain as he rushed to a stop in front of him.

  “Captain Irving, you Sir are relieved from duty!” Then without warning he plunged his sword into the Captain’s chest. The Captain stood for a moment, the sword embedded deep into his chest.

  “My Lord… why….?” he gasped stuttering, as death and darkness gripped hold of him. Lord Detaine smirked, but said nothing. Withdrawing his sword sharply from the man’s chest the Captain immediately dropped to his knees clutching at his wound, his blood pouring through his fingers and trickling out of his mouth. Lord Detaine watched mercilessly as he then fell face to the ground dead.

  The Captain’s men looked on in horror, as all hope for their survival faded. There were only a dozen of them now and as the Elves began to encircle them, they stood with their backs to each other’s, their faces overwhelmed with fear and terror as they stared death in the face.

  Lord Detaine stepped disrespectfully over the Captain’s body. Raising his sword and pointing it towards what was left of the Captain’s men, he turned shouting aggressively to the Elves.

  “KILL THEM!”

  The young soldiers began to panic; there were not enough of them left to fight. They broke rank, fleeing in all directions trying desperately to dart between the Elves and get to the forest, but one by one they were caught and without mercy slaughtered.

  Prince Gareion watched on in horror, he was unable to believe what was going on. Why did Lord Detaine hold him prisoner, why had he slaughtered all the King’s men? Spinning around he screamed desperately and angrily.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Struggling he pulled urgently at his wrists which had been bound fast and tight.

  “You’ll see soon enough my Prince. Now move.” Lord Detaine ordered, shoving him forward. Stumbling, Gareion glared angrily at him; then swinging a fleeting glance he looked around him at the dead bodies of the King’s soldiers and shuddered at the stench of death that now filled the evening air. Then up ahead of him he saw the portal and fear began to take hold. What did they want with him?

  The Elves had gathered and stood in rank alongside the portal. They were a formidable sight. Gareion stared along the lines; he swallowed nervously at the sheer numbers. A Dark Elf stepped forward.

  “My Lord,” he bowed low to the ground. “Casius awaits you on the other side of the portal.” Lord Detaine stared at him then frowned.

  “Casius? Where is Nera?” Swallowing hard the elf bowed his head again.

  “My Lord she has been killed. After Nera returned with the Crystal, Zarnora sent her to kill Kainan and get the girl.” He hesitated. Lord Detaine’s hand gripped his sword tightly.

  “But she was discovered and the Prince my Lord, he killed her in her true form.”

  Lord Detaine stood silent, his mouth pursing as he thought.

  “That is a shame, Casius is old. Will he have enough strength for all three of us?” The Elf nodded.

  “Yes my Lord. Zarnora has placed a spell upon him to give him enough strength to take you home. However,” he stopped.

  “Armac?” The Elf’s eyes flashed nervously at him before continuing. “She said it would kill him.” Lord Detaine clenched his fists, breathing deeply he thought for a long time before he spoke again. They were the last of the dragonere he would liked to have spent some time studying them, maybe even breeding from them. He shook his head.

  “That too is a shame. Still you have done well Armac. What of the girl, do we have her yet?” Armac shook his head.

  “Not that I am aware of my Lord. The shape shifter you sent has not yet reported back.” Lord Detaine frowned and shook his head puzzled.

  “We should have heard by now, leave it with me I will make contact. I want you to take the castle at daybreak.” Lord Detaine instructed. “They will not be prepared.” He looked around. “How many men do you have?”

  “Four hundred strong my Lord,” Armac replied. Lord Detaine pursed his lips as a twitch of a smile held its place. He nodded.

  “Good. It should be enough. The Groundling army is weak; they rely too much on their failing magic.”

  Head bowed Armac walked away and set about gathering his army together. Gareion looked on in utter horror and shock.

  “Allaine why are you doing this, what is going on?” he pleaded; he could not understand any of this. He had been reading in his chamber when he had been arrested for the crime of stealing the Ardor Crystal, a crime for which he knew nothing about. How could there have been witnesses seeing him? He had not even been to the market that morning. His father of course had been furious at the accusation, but there had been nothing he could do. As King he had to uphold the law even if it was against his own son. So until it could be proven otherwise he was taken and incarcerated in the tower. He had sat trying to make sense of what was going on when an intruder had let themselves into the room, placed a sack over his head and forcefully dragged him out of the castle. He had been bundled into the back of a horse drawn cart and driven out of the city. Having the sack removed he had found himself inside a wooden shack, somewhere h
e presumed within the forest of Malgar. There he had stayed, tied to a chair and being fed and given water by a scruffy looking man in a mask. That was until short while ago when Lord Detaine and Lord Lothar had suddenly walked through the door. A rescue, he had assumed and for a brief moment had felt relief. At least now he would be taken home and hopefully he would be able to see his wife, who he was sure would be frantic by now with his sudden disappearance. How wrong could he have been!

  “As I said my Prince you will see. Now it is finally time for us to leave,” he said, sighing satisfactorily and looking to his son. “My boy open the portal, this place is no longer our prison.” Lord Lothar nodding stepped forward placing his hand on the dial. The portal whirled into action once more. Grabbing hold of Gareion’s shoulder roughly, Lord Detaine dragged the terrified Prince through the swirling portal. Lord Lothar looked around at the devastation they were leaving behind, and smiled to himself, this was just the beginning. Soon their revenge would be upon the entire city of Malgar. Then he too stepped through the swirling portal to freedom.

  Stumbling, they fell out of the portal into a clearing. They were back on Zyon. Detaine breathed a deep breath and looked at his son, grinning; finally they were free. There towering in front of them stood Casius. The black dragonere turned towards them, his large black scaly body a mere shadow in the failing light of the early evening towered above them. Puffing smoke through his nose, he lowered his head and greeted them. Detaine stepped forward; and raising his hand to the old dragonere he stroked his snout.

  “One more journey Casius then you can be with Nera again.” Casius roared nodding his head. To the side of him and harnessed to his body was a large wicker basket bound with leather straps.

 

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