Deragan Sword Prophecy: Book 01 - Kainan

by Rosemary Lynch

  Kainan stepped forward to Gareion, reaching out he hugged his brother, patting his back affectionately. “Gareion wait here with the others, Arweyn and I will go first with the Crystal. It will need both of our powers to re-instate the banishing spell.” Gareion nodded.

  “Be careful brother.” Kainan patted his arm. “I will Gareion.”

  “My Lord,” Arnickle growled. “Ride upon my back and I will take you back through the tunnels to the Gardinel City. From there we can reach the Portal to Malgar in no time. Lady Arweyn ride upon Caspella.” Arweyn turned to her mother and held her.

  “Goodbye mother.”

  “Take care Arweyn, please be careful.” Nodding, her daughter kissed her cheek. Then turning she walked over to Caspella. Kainan helped her up onto Caspella’s back as Arnickle had instructed. Then climbing upon Arnickle, he took hold of the leather harness.

  “Here do not forget this!” Drew laughed, passing Kainan the bag with the Crystal inside, Kainan pulled it onto his lap. “And take my pack, you may need it.” He nodded his thanks and slung Drew’s pack over his shoulder.

  “We shall return for the rest of you. We cannot travel as fast with two upon our backs. Let us get Kainan, Arweyn and the Crystal through the

  portal and back to Malgar first,” Arnickle growled, staring down at the others.

  Freelander stepped forward. “Aye that is best Arnickle. Now go as fast as you can and get that Crystal back. We will be waiting for you here,” the feisty Gardiner ordered, patting the runner. Arnickle bowed his head at Freelander. “My friend,” he growled agreeably.

  “My Lord.” Pernash bowed to Kainan. “If it is all the same I shall return now to my people to make sure they are safe.”

  “Of course Pernash. Thank you for all your help. Please when this is all over, come and see us at the castle?”

  “I will my Lord, My Lady.” Pernash bowed, stepping backwards.

  “Goodbye Pernash and thank you.” Arweyn smiled, watching as the gangly man ran off. Lady Elanor looked up at her daughter and then turned to Kainan. “Take care of her Kainan.” The young Prince bowed his head.

  “With my life my Lady. Come then Arnickle let’s go, we have a Kingdom to save.” The great cat roared. “Hold on tight this is going to be fast.” In seconds they were gone.

  Twenty Seven - The Elves Attack

  The silence around the banqueting table was deafening, and the King was not alone as he sat with a furrowed brow and a mind full of worry. Each guest who sat upon the King’s table that evening felt the same desperate helplessness that bore into his heart. His wife, Queen Elizabeth sat by his side. He glanced at her and smiled ruefully. As hard as she tried her face showed the sadness she felt inside and he knew it was all she could do to hold back her tears and remain composed in front of their dining companions. Various Groundling Elders including Lord and Lady Meleze and even Zennec his second in command of his personal guard sat at the great banqueting table in silent thought.

  By now it was late into the evening, events during the day having leant itself to their evening meal being served much later than usual. The King did not have much of an appetite at all and absently pushed his food around his plate. He was far too worried to eat. They had heard nothing of Prince Kainan, or his men. No-one knew whether or not they had been successful in their task in recovering the Ardor Crystal from the Gorzars. No-one knew if he, his twin brother Prince Gareion or the Lady Arweyn were alive or dead. The last information the King had received was when Queen Adara of the Groundlings had sent word that Kainan was being stalked by Dark Elves. In response the King had sent his trusted cousin, Lord Porlock along with the Gardiner Freelander and the giant Runners to go to his aid. After that there had been nothing, no contact at all, not a word had been sent; be it good or bad.

  The party ate on in silence contemplating what disaster would befall them and the Kingdom of Malgar should Kainan not return with the Crystal in time. Already the magical power that protected the city from the darkness beyond the boundary was on the brink of total collapse. Another day he was sure was all they had left. After that the King knew there was no choice left open to him. Evacuation of the entire population of Malgar through the portal into the world of Zyon was the only option left open to him. His heart ached to know of the fate of his two sons, being sat here without word about any of them, was torturous for him. For even though he didn’t want to entertain the fact, he knew both his sons could be dead. By taking his people through the portal to Zyon, he could be sending them straight their deaths. For all he knew, even now, the entire Gorzar Empire could be waiting for them on the other side of the portal.

  Suddenly from the door there came a loud commotion. Pushing his chair back sharply the King rose to his feet. His fellow dinner guests stopped eating and looked on in silence across the table at the young soldier the guards were bringing forward.

  “Sire,” the young soldier gasped, falling to his knees exhausted, blood was oozing from a wound on the side of his neck, where he had been struck by an arrow whilst fleeing from the battle with the Dark Elves.

  The King immediately rushed to the soldier’s aid. “Get a healer, quickly,” he ordered with a sharp wave of his hand. One of the elders, a woman by the name of Alayah, jumped up from her chair with great urgency and rushed out of the door.

  The guard bowed to the King. “Your Highness, forgive this intrusion but the boy insisted on telling you himself. He says he has come from the portal in the Great Forest,” the guard, a tall stocky man with a curled moustache informed him.

  “Sire we are under attack, at the portal,” the young solider cried, gasping for breath; he was so exhausted he was hardly able to get his words out. His eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his King, fighting hard against the bitter pain that tore at his neck, trying to stay conscious long enough to convey his Captain’s message.

  Reaching forward the King helped the young soldier back onto his feet.

  “Tell me quickly what has happened?” he ordered, grabbing some cloth napkins off the table and placing them tight against the boy’s wound, holding them fast to stem the bleeding. Lady Meleze had already risen from her seat at the table and stood beside the King.

  “Sire, let me,” she offered, stepping forward and raising her hand towards the boy’s wound, the King nodding, pulled his hand away from the boy’s neck allowing Lady Meleze room to take hold of the napkins. She continued to hold them firm against the boy’s neck.

  “The portal Sire in the forest. There are hundreds of Dark Elves pouring through; we couldn’t stop them, they’re coming for the city! There is no time my King, you must hurry and send more men.” His voice was weak and his body shook with the shock of everything that had happened, and the fear of what was yet to come.

  “Zennec!” The King yelled, turning and looking over his shoulder; his face having suddenly gone a deathly shade of white, showing the fear that now pounded in his heart. The King’s second in command was already by his side. He was a tall, broad muscular man, with a dark black hair and a square set jaw; and he had already risen from his place at the dining table when the young solider had entered the room. Raising his hand to his heart he bowed to the King.

  “Zennec, ring the bell and get the villagers in the castle walls now. Where the hell is Detaine, I haven’t seen him for ages or Lothar for that matter?” The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the young soldier cried, interrupting him.

  “Sire he is with them, the Dark Elves!” His eyes were wide with panic as he tried to stay focused for his King, even though the pain in his neck was now consuming him to the point of total collapse.

  “WHAT?” the King cried in disbelief shaking his head at the boy, his eyes glaring as his nostrils flared in anger. “What do you mean he was with them?”

  The boy took a deep breath to steady himself. “I saw him Sire and Lord Lothar. They had Prince Gareion with them too.” The King’s heart leapt to his throat, they had his son!

  �
��Gareion was with Detaine?” He asked for clarification, making certain that his ears had not misheard the boy. Hot anger then blazed through him as the injured soldier nodded. Wizard Marton had been right all along to suspect there was something wrong with Detaine. He frowned angrily.

  “Yes Sire, but the Prince was not there willingly. Lord Detaine killed

  the Captain Sire and had the Elves killed all his men. Then they went through the portal to Zyon, taking the Prince with them.”

  “Traitors!” The King fumed. He felt his face flush with anger as he clenched his fists tight fighting to contain the terrible fury within him.

  “Zennec!”

  “Sire?” Zennec bowed, stepping forward.

  “Do you know if the men are ready for a battle? That was what Lothar was in charge of; goodness only knows what damage he may have done before he left.” He rasped, in barely controlled fury, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth.

  “Do not worry Sire; I will have the first battalion ready, regardless of what he may have done. The second battalion was in Lord Meleze’s charge so Lothar will have had no influence over them.” He looked over to Lord Meleze, whose eyes snapped towards the king.

  “Sire my men are ready.” He bowed sharply.

  The King nodded, addressing Zennec. “Good, I will need my battle armour.”

  “Yes at once Sire.” Zennec said, giving a single, firm nod and raising his hand to his heart. Turning and with his hand on the hilt of his sword he hurried out of the room. The King took a deep breath, a steadying breath, before pausing to look at the young solider.

  “Soldier you have served your King well. What is your name?”

  “Kowan Hurst Sire,” the boy answered immediately, lowering his head.

  “Then Kowan Hurst I am grateful to you for your courage and your strength. Your bravery may have just saved the Kingdom. Now go and get medical attention,” the King instructed, pointing to a healer who stood hovering at the entrance of the great room.

  The young soldier bowed with effort, and raising his shaking hand he took over holding the napkins to his wound. Nodding his thanks to Lady Meleze, he left the room on the arm of the healer.

  “Lord Meleze, take the second battalion and protect the castle. Your first priority is to make sure all the villagers are safely inside the castle gates.” The King ordered.

  “Sire,” he confirmed, bowing. Turning he headed out of the room with great urgency.

  Stepping forward the Queen walked towards her husband with fear. He suddenly looked so old and tired. What was to become of them? She could see the look of horror and desperation in her husband eyes as he looked at her.

  “Do you have to go John? I fear for your life,” she begged, grabbing his arm. Looking at her he smiled sadly. Then leaning forward he raised his hand to her face and began caressing his thumb gently over her cheek, before finally kissing her.

  “I am the King and it is my duty to protect our people. My love, you must get the women and children into the chambers, it will be the safest place for them. I cannot lie to you Elizabeth, I fear what is to become of us but I need you to be strong.” She leaned forward and touched her nose to his.

  “Please promise me you will be careful John, I do not want to lose you,”

  she whispered, before wiping away a tear that had escaped with the back of her hand. He nodded, “I promise Elizabeth. I love you, now go.” He indicated to the door. She reached her hand to his face and nodded.

  “I love you too, you old fool,” she whispered, then turning to Lady Meleze she beckoned her and the two women left.

  The King sighed sadly as he watched his wife leave, knowing full well that it may be the last time he ever saw her. Only the spirits now knew whether or not they were going to make it through this attack. Dark Elves he knew were powerful, magical beings and even if he had more men than they, he knew they were going to be in for one hell of a fight. He still couldn’t believe that after all this time the Detaine’s were traitors. How could he not have seen this coming? Marton had felt something was wrong but he had not listened to him and now? His heart pounded fiercely and his fists clenched tightly. Now his Kingdom was under attack and both his sons were gone.

  He walked over to the window and peered outside. He could see the flashes of fire from hundreds of torches lighting up the darkness as his army gathered below, ready for battle. He frowned as he recalled the story Kainan had told him. Had it really been Lord Detaine all along? Was it he that implemented the kidnapping of his son when he had been first born twenty one years ago? The King huffed angrily as he thought. They had taken Gareion and locked him in the tower, whilst all along knowing that it was Kainan who had taken the Crystal. That is why there were no guards at the dome, why there were no guards at the portal. The Detaine’s had planned it all in meticulous detail, making sure that his son would get the Crystal out of Malgar. Except they had not planned on Kainan turning up alive at the castle, and he had not expected Arweyn to follow him through the portal and save him from the Gorzars. He began to pace impatiently as he waited for Zennec to bring him his armour.

  The attack in Detaine’s chamber, the first night Kainan had arrived. He scowled; it had been an assassination attempt. Detaine had concocted the whole scenario in order to get rid of Kainan. The King seethed. What he could not understand is why? Why were they helping Gorzars? Then there was point of how had they actually communicated with the Gorzars and the Dark Elves. There must have been some kind of magic involved, for never once did Allaine or his son leave Malgar.

  He had always known that Lothar was weird, and that something was not quite right about that boy; the way he hid himself away in the tower. All through Lothar’s childhood the King had felt there was something wrong with him, but he had put up with his peculiar ways because he had trusted his cousin, Lord Detaine. He had just blamed it on the fact that the boy’s mother had died during his birth, and that somehow it had affected him growing up. Now, somehow they had joined forces with Gorzars and with Dark Elves. He swallowed hard. What chance did they really have against hundreds of Dark Elves?

  After a time Zennec returned with the King’s armour.

  “Sire the first battalion is ready. I have them assembling outside the moat and the archers are taking to the battlements.”

  The King nodded relieved. “Excellent work Zennec. Perhaps Lothar had hoped the Elves would have made a surprise attack.”

  “Not entirely my King.” Zennec said.

  “What do you mean?” The King questioned, turning to him.

  “Well,” he took a breath. “It appears that Lord Lothar had brought down some kegs of ale for the men to enjoy late this afternoon.” The King took a deep breath; he did not like the sound of this.

  “But before they had a chance to drink it head guard Martac refused them permission. He told them that no-man will drink until the Princes have returned and the Crystal restored, then there would be time for celebrations.” The King nodded.

  “Good for him, at least we do not have an army full of drunken men.”

  “No your highness it is worse than that,” he said, in a cautious tone. “When Martac told me I became suspicious. This is why I was so long with your armour. I gave a sample just a while ago to the Wizard Marton and he confirms that it had been poisoned. And it was a deadly poison Sire, not a sleeping dram. If the men had drunk the ale we would have lost half of the army in an instant.”

  “By the spirits!” The King exclaimed. His words were too troubling to contemplate. “Why that evil bastard, he will hang for what he has done. Somehow they will be made to pay for their treachery!” He scowled as Zennec began helping him on with his armour. It was heavy, and it had been a long time since the King had worn battle armour. He huffed at the weight of the chain-mail.

  “If that young soldier had not made it, we would not have stood a chance,” he said with earnest, looking at the Commander. “Remind me, if we are still alive when this is all over to reward that boy
.” Zennec nodded.

  “Yes my King. Ready?” he questioned raising his eyebrow at the King

  as he struggled with the armour.

  “Yes. Let’s go.” Together they headed out of the great room, along the long corridors and down the crystal staircase.

  Finally reaching the front of the castle, the King stepped out into the courtyard and looked on in dismay, feeling a chill slice through his body that cut him to the bone. The fullness of the moon showed clearly the terror and fear that was held in the faces of the people of Malgar as they streamed through the castle gates. They had no idea what was happening, why the King’s army was assembling for battle and fear had spread through the city like wildfire. Some of the younger children cried as the men marched passed. Wearing full battle gear, their armour clanking in unison was a terrifying sound for their young ears. Their mothers, grabbing hold of them tight pulled them close to their bosoms in a frightful panic, for fear of losing them amongst the chaos.

  A solider brought forth the King’s horse and bending down the King used his back to climb up onto his great horse. The pure black stallion neighed in recognition as the King patted his neck. Leaning forward he took hold of the reigns, whispering into the stallions ear.

  “Do me proud Merlin. We have a deadly battle ahead of us.” The stallion brayed loudly whilst hammering his hoof hard upon the earth as if he understood every word of his master. The King kicked his heels and the great horse moved on. Leading his men forward, they marched out of the Castle gates and across the drawbridge. The villagers scrambled out of their way as they came towards them, bowing to the King as the powerful sound of the battle-clad army’s footsteps pounded across the bridge.

  The King began to assemble the second foot battalion. Soldiers came running, their swords to hand as they filed into ranks protecting the castle. His horse, braying nosily reared onto his back legs as the King spun around to look behind him. He raised his sword to the long-bow archers waiting above them across the tops of the battlements. The archers raised their bows in response, they were ready.