The Rawn Chronicles Book Two: The Warlord and The Raiders (The Rawn Chronicles Series 2)

by P D Ceanneir

  ‘Everyone will leave, Prince Havoc and Lord Soneros will stay,’ said the queen.

  ‘But your highness...,’ protested Barnum.

  The queen gave Barnum a withering look and he remained silent. The four Atyd’s and the princess did as the queen ordered and left. With a walking stick in one hand and the Ri steadying her on the other they walked slowly to the end of the hall, Havoc followed quietly behind. They entered a small study that lay beyond the far wall, but the queen took them through the study, and out onto the balcony, where she sat down on a high backed wicker chair.

  From this height, there was a spectacular view of the gardens; Havoc could see the boulder with SinDex sticking out of the top. The crowd had disappeared.

  ‘For someone who hides his identity, Prince Havoc,’ said the queen, ‘you draw much attention to yourself.’

  ‘It is purely unintentional your highness, I assure you.’

  ‘Please sit both of you, and tell me young man, why the secrecy?’

  Havoc and Soneros Ri sat in the wicker chairs across from the queen, a small round table lay between them.

  ‘Vallkytes would be more than pleased to bring me to the custody of my uncle, believe me when I say it is far better for everyone to know me as plain Havoc.’

  ‘I believe you are right, but you should have trusted in my protection. The Eternal Forest is neutral territory in this conflict that seems to be drawing others into its wake. Soneros Ri has been here from the onset and I value his judgement as my forbears did in the past. However, that said, I know why you are here, my granddaughter is a great source of information, but I must abide by the laws I have set down and refuse to give you military aid.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear that your majesty,’ said Havoc, his heart sank. The hope of raising an army had faltered at the first hurdle, ‘I have already had the argument with Morden. Your safety in the forest is unfounded, Kasan has it in his power to invade and succeed, and I could be the first line of defence if he attacks.’

  ‘That way I will still have my people seen as part of the Rogun force; we cannot be seen to interfere in this civil war. It is not of our making,’ sighed the queen.

  ‘Even when you disagree with the Vallkytes part in the war, and Kasan’s shameful deceit at Dragorsloth,’ said Soneros Ri. He was a tall man with short white hair that he always tied into a small golden clasp at the back of his head, broad shouldered and handsome, with dark eyebrows over brown eyes. Ri’s were experts at holding their age, but the colour in hair for some reason was hard to control. Although the Ri had the face of a thirty year old, his eyes betrayed his age, wisdom of many hundreds of years shone through his soft all-knowing glance. It was widely rumoured that Soneros was the oldest amongst the Ri Order; it was quite possible he was in excess of two thousand years old, for this reason, he was affectionately termed as, The Ever Living One.

  ‘As always my old friend you bring me down to earth,’ nodded the queen, ‘but there are political issues at stake here, trade for one with King Kasan and Queen Cinnibar can weaken us if stopped and at the most, cripple our economy, we are an island in a sea of enemies.’

  ‘Queen Cinnibar?’ asked Havoc, startled.

  ‘She was made Queen of Sonora last winter,’ said Lord Soneros, ‘I always knew she had an aptitude for political doctoring, but that appointment was a brilliant coup even for her.’

  ‘The Vallkytes have at least enforced some stability on the pre-Rogun lands around the Eternal Forest, but their taxation and feudal laws are much to be desired,’ said the queen.

  ‘All the more reason to rise against them,’ said Havoc.

  ‘Not now, I will not condone it, things may change in a few months though.’

  This last comment left Havoc confused and Soneros looked pained.

  ‘I’m dying, Prince Havoc, a few months to live at least, the Ri cannot do anything for me, the cancer has spread too far,’ an almost imperceptible nod from Soneros confirmed the queens mortality.

  ‘I may have a modicum of control over the Atyd’s, but the Boughmen are a law unto themselves,’ said the queen, and Havoc nodded in understanding. With Whyteman’s aid, he may be able to raise a small force.

  ‘My granddaughter will be married in a few months, I cannot ask you to stay, but I hope you will consider it,’ said the queen and Havoc felt an unwarranted pang of jealousy, at the thought of Bronwyn and Barnum together in matrimony.

  ‘I would very much like to stay for a while,’ he said.

  Due to tiredness, the queen stopped the meeting with Havoc. His friends were released from the stockade and Powyss was happy to meet Soneros Ri who had also taught him in his youth at the academy. Havoc ordered them all to go with the Atyd Morden, back to the inn, and wait for him there. Their weapons were returned to their individual owners as they exited the palace grounds, Little Kith growled at the young Falesti soldier as he took back his double-headed axe. Powyss had told Havoc that the men now knew who he really was. He felt awkward when they all bowed to him when they left their jail. He realised that things were going to change.

  He walked with Soneros Ri in the palace gardens for a time. The Ri told him of his flight from the Tower of Sooth, before the Vallkytes, under General Plysov, came to look for the Royal Tables.

  ‘This was the safest place to bring them,’ he said, ‘this is my second home. I have been the Royal Consul of the Falesti queens for many generations.’

  ‘My father was concerned about the Royal Tables, but he knew they were safe with you.’

  ‘Safe with the queen actually, she is one of the many signatories’ of the Tables.’

  ‘She is? Then she must know of my status and power I hold as De Proteous.’

  ‘She was one of the main royal magnates, who laid down the law, regarding your ranking,’ said Soneros Ri, ‘you do realise that before your peoples exile, you were widely regarded as the second most powerful person on the island, because of the authority you controlled?’

  Havoc nodded. His status as De Proteous was indeed a powerful royal title. Free and autonomous, he could hold his own court, raise an army, change and incorporate laws, create titles, and rank for himself and others. Only his father, King Vanduke, could countermand his orders. Being the crown prince of the primary Cromme dynasty, he was even higher in rank than his uncle, King Kasan.

  Their wanderings brought them to the boulder and Havoc’s sword. The Ri stopped to look at it.

  ‘We were aware of your departure from your people. When there was no word of you for over a year, we thought you were dead. When I saw you last night I thought at first you were a ghost, you have grown much since I last saw you at the academy, I hardly recognised you,’ said the Ri.

  ‘You could have come and talked to me, master.’

  ‘Ah, well, I had recently returned from a trip north and I was very tired, Driftwalking, you see, takes a lot out of you. I knew you wished to see the queen anyway. We Ri’s usually like to see things unfold themselves. Besides I enjoyed seeing Barnum taken down a peg or two,’ he laughed, ‘”Vallkyte spy”, what a fool he is.’

  ‘Looks like I will have to raise an army the hard way,’ Havoc sighed.

  ‘The queen is a stickler for the old laws, and is loath to embroil her people into a conflict that is none of their business. However I think I have convinced her of one thing, the reason that Kasan has not invaded the forest is his lack of numbers, but that will change when he involves the south eastern tribes into a pact.’

  ‘He is?’

  ‘So we have heard, but for now he is happy that the queen stays neutral and complacent. I have urged her to take sides and soon, but the Atyd’s, especially Barnum, have stayed her hand. Nevertheless, I think you have won a strong ally out of all of this,’ he said this while looking up at the queen’s balcony.

  He looked up expecting to see the queen watching them, but he saw Princess Bronwyn, he could not make out her features from this distance, but he knew it was she.

  ‘I thi
nk she likes you, no doubt I will be interrogated by her when I return,’ said Soneros Ri, ‘I’ve been her tutor since I fled here,’ he rubbed his chin in thought as he regarded the prince, ‘There may be another ally that you don’t know about, highness.’

  ‘Who is that, master?’

  ‘Mad-gellan,’ said the Ri with much sincerity.

  ‘A Nithi lord, why should I accept him as an ally?’ Havoc was surprised.

  ‘Because he is the sworn enemy of Mad-daimen, Mad-gellan is of the noble house of Multan, many years ago they were actually Rogun allies, until the Kelang, under Mad-daimen, deposed them and took power. He is a natural leader and a fearsome warrior, and is now one of a thousand prisoners in the stockade at the Pander Pass.’

  Havoc mulled this over, a readymade army sat as prisoners at the pass, but the task of getting them out was dangerous.

  ‘Did I ever tell you that I knew the Rawn Master Smith, Borran?’ Soneros was looking at the sword and Havoc was surprised at the question, Lord Borran died about two hundred years ago, at least.

  ‘I was there when he made Tragenn,’ he continued, and then pointed at the sword, ‘that however, is not Tragenn.’

  Havoc was lost for words, he knew better than to lie to a Ri. Omitting the truth however was perfectly acceptable.

  ‘Captain Powyss and I had an altercation, Tragenn shattered, and I got another one made from the hilt.’

  ‘Another two by the looks of it,’ said Soneros Ri as he squinted at the sword, ‘Bor-Teaven is a powerful sword, the dwarfs make them well, and they must have made that one, if it cut into solid granite like butter.’

  Havoc was silent; he looked at the Ri who was peering at SinDex with curiosity. He noticed how the two swords merged to form one blade. Something only a Ri could detect.

  ‘Twin dragons, Twin swords, most impressive, did you have a hand in making this?’

  Havoc nodded.

  ‘Was it Gunach that was the primary smith?’ a nod from Havoc again.

  ‘Why is it not black?’ the Ri turned to look into Havoc’s eyes.

  ‘What?’ the prince was stunned, how could he know?

  ‘Tell me the truth my prince are you a Pyromancer? Is that why you left your people?’

  Havoc was at a loss for words, he knew someday, someone, apart from Powyss, would know about his alter ego, but not so soon.

  ‘How did you figure that out?’

  ‘I’m not a fool Havoc. I have studied all of the prophecies down through the centuries, you have told me the rest yourself. There are rumours of the Blacksword even here, you are the wandering prince that much is obvious, and Gunach is a son or descendent of Pelnier, and I have always surmised that a Pyromancer will help make the sword. At first I thought it was Baron Telmar, but he “technically” wasn’t a prince, so why isn’t the sword black?’

  ‘There is an Earth Orrin on the pommel; I can use it to disguise the sword,’ explained Havoc.

  ‘Amazing, you must tell me everything.’

  He did. Unlike Powyss, he told the Ri the whole story, even about Mulvend, he did not tell him where she was now, however, but Soneros was only happy she was safe. The Ri was more interested in the Blacksword; his trust for his old master made him open up to him and voice his concerns about the dual entity of his mind.

  ‘You’re not going mad, slightly neurotic, but not mad. You say the sword has a piece of your soul in it?’ said the Ri.

  ‘That is what I feel, yes. It’s like some sentient entity.’

  ‘Then you have to feel that you are in control. If both of you have separate goals then there will be conflict within you,’ Soneros Ri rubbed his chin and stared at Havoc for a few seconds, ‘How are your studies with the fire element?’

  ‘Powyss is a good instructor but...’ he left the answer open; he had great affection for his old friend and did not want to talk ill of him.

  ‘I see. I know that Powyss has difficulty at times; it is more common amongst the more talented Rawn Master’s than you realise. Come to me soon and I will help you. It is time you started preparing for the final trials and the Canndali.’

  A stable hand arrived with Dirkem. The young boy took one look at the sword in the boulder and then quickly ran off without a word. Havoc thanked the Ri for his help and promised to return.

  Lord Soneros pointed towards the sword, ‘are you not taking the sword back?’ he asked.

  Havoc regarded it for a few seconds. He felt an urge to take it from the stone, but the truth was, that he felt a burden had been lifted and the cloying darkness in his head that was the presence of the Blacksword was absent for now.

  ‘No, the sword is safe there, it can look after itself,’ he said.

  He said goodbye to his old mentor from Dirkem’s saddle, but not before he noticed the Princess watching him leave as she stared down at him from her balcony.

  He had another surprise when he returned to the stables. All of his friends were standing waiting for him. The Atyd Morden and his men, some of whom he had made friends with, were there too. They watched him, in silence, as he entered trailing the black stallion by the reins behind him.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ he said to Powyss as the captain took the reins from his hand.

  ‘They all have something to say to you,’ said Powyss and led Dirkem to his stall.

  The Atyd Morden spoke first. ‘Myself, and the men, are all aware of your grief and suffering. What they did to your family was wrong. We all wish to say something to you,’ he turned to the others and nodded.

  Sergeant Velnour of the Tattoium Militia moved first, he walked up to Havoc and kneeled before him, clasping the prince’s right hand in both of his own, he uttered the words of fealty.

  ‘I, Velnour of the Tattoium Highlands, offer you, Havoc De Proteous Cromme my sword, my shield, my loyal fealty until my dying day,’ he said. Havoc was so stunned he just stood open mouthed as Furran replaced Velnour.

  ‘I, Furran of Furran, offer you, Havoc De Proteous Cromme my sword, my shield, my loyal fealty until my dying day.’

  After Furran, everyone formed a line to swear fealty to the prince. Last, was Whyteman and then to his surprise Morden dropped to his knee and swore to be his bondsman like the others. His own bodyguards did the same in the manner of their Atyd.

  Havoc was so overwhelmed tears welled in his eyes.

  ‘Told you he’d cry Furran,’ smiled Powyss.

  Furran mumbled to himself and gave Powyss two gold coins for winning the bet.

  Two weeks later Verkin and the rest of the fugitives’ arrived, Verkin was far better, but still not fully recovered from his wounds although he was well enough to travel. Once the arriving men found out that Havoc was the Prince of the Roguns, they all in turn swore fealty like the rest.

  Verkin was distant with the prince, and when Havoc confronted him, he told him of the dreams he had in his fevered mind. Dreams of the Blacksword and he was afraid that the Blacksword was the prince’s nemesis, his destroyer. In the dream, a girl, in a blue dress, watched from afar, but he felt her watching him in his waking world too. Havoc reassured Verkin that the illness, and trauma, made him imagine things and all was well. Secretly a cold chill went down his spine.

  Training in the fire element started a week after Verkin’s party arrived. The Ri taught well, with patience and kindness. However, the lessons with Soneros brought him in contact with his other pupil, Princess Bronwyn, who was learning history. (Soneros specialised in history, having been in most of it anyway)

  Closeness to the beautiful girl made his mind swim; he found it hard to concentrate. Her scent filled his nostrils and her countenance his eyes, but he hid it all and remained friendly, charming, and affable. The weeks past and she would watch him in his lessons with the Ri; her staring eyes put him off more times, than he cared to admit.

  ‘Do you find it difficult?’ she said to him one day after a particularly gruelling session.

  ‘Very, but Lord Soneros says it will come in time,�
� said Havoc as they walked the gardens during a break. The sun was shining brightly through the large gaps in the canopy. The sky was blue and a light breeze lifted Bronwyn’s hair, making them look like black smoky wisps. Mirryn flew around them and Bronwyn giggled at the kites swooping dynamics.

  ‘Are you nervous about the wedding?’ Havoc asked.

  ‘Not really, I know it is the right move to make, it does not mean I will enjoy marriage, even if it is to an arrogant old fool like Barnum.’

  ‘You could refuse,’ Havoc noticed a small smile on her face; it gave her an innocent youthful appeal.

  ‘After my last escapade to get out of it, via the Flower Hunt, my grandmother has been very severe, and she has given me an option.’

  ‘Oh... what option?’

  ‘If I don’t marry Barnum, then the crown goes to my cousin, Jolene, Tolland’s daughter,’ she said with a sigh, ‘she is in the power of her father and will cause a rift with Barnum and possible civil war in the forest. So my grandmother is bartering with my inner concerns.’

  Havoc thought that the emotional blackmail was just a hollow threat. This revelation presented him with a conundrum. In order to raise an army he needed the permission of the queen or more likely, because of the queens failing health, the princess. However, in order for her to become queen, she must marry Barnum and that made his heart sink, he could not have both.

  ‘I see that is a problem,’ said Havoc, ‘you will be tied to a man you do not love, only to keep the peace in the forest.’

  The princess looked away from him and her shoulders trembled, he turned her around and saw the tears running down her face.

  ‘A queen must do her duty to her people,’ she said through a quivering lip.

  ‘Of course you should,’ wiping a tear from her face, she pressed her cheek against his palm.

  ‘I don’t love him; he is not a kind man,’ it may have been his imagination but she seemed to move closer to him.

  ‘I’ve noticed that,’ he smiled at her. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, it was wrong but it felt right.