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

by P D Ceanneir

  Havoc did, he told the Ri about the Muse Orrinn, and his finding of Mirryn, the Earth Orrinn that gave him the ability to change into the Blacksword or disguise himself, he mentioned the Fire Orrinn and the fact that only he could hold the sword.

  ‘The Fire Orrinn came in handy when the Blacksword fought Jynn Ri,’ said Havoc.

  ‘Yes, that fact of her involvement bothers me and also Soneros Ri. Cinnibar would not just send anyone to kill you; there must be a reason for it.’

  ‘She sent someone to kill the Blacksword, not me!’ explained Havoc, ‘besides they believe him to be a threat. Jynn mentioned something called the Earth Daemon that seems to fear the Blacksword.’

  The Ri stopped and pondered for a moment. He then turned to Havoc.

  ‘You speak of the Blacksword as if he is another person,’ he said.

  ‘He is, but one of extreme confidence in his abilities. When I become him I believe I can take on the world, he knows he is invincible. He started as a voice in my head, but now he is becoming a physical manifestation.’ Havoc frowned as he spoke.

  ‘Is he proving the stronger of the two?’

  Havoc looked out across the running Tarridun River. They had stopped next to a tall ash tree. On the far bank was another two. A forest must have existed in the past, but the river had changed course since then. These were the last of them to survive the extinct forest as the marshland invaded their domain.

  Pondering the question asked by the Ri, Havoc bit his lower lip.

  ‘Powyss believed I had to show the Blacksword that I had confidence in my abilities. Leading men and winning battles was the answer. Now I am not so sure, I have let us be trapped, ready to die. Who needs an army anyway, when you have a sword that can destroy one?’

  ‘The Blacksword is nothing without you.’

  ‘What if I become the Blacksword permanently?’

  Lord Ness remained silent; the world with an invincible killing machine energised with Pyromantic powers did not compare thinking about.

  ‘Is that what you think is happening?’ Asked Ness Ri.

  The prince shrugged, ‘I don’t know yet, but I feel a change within me.’

  ‘I shall have to think on this,’ said the Ri, ‘I have never come across anything like this in my long life before, its unprecedented, perhaps the Gods are testing you.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Havoc sighed, and then said, ‘I thought female Ri’s were rare?’ the Ri noted that he was changing the subject, ‘wouldn’t the order have some responsibility for Jynn?’

  Lord Ness bristled at the question, he was very protective of the Ri Order, but knew Havoc was only curious.

  ‘If memory serves, Jynn was asked to join and she refused, which was just as well, anyway. She has a psychotic personality and played the part of an assassin well. She had only one apprentice.’

  ‘Let me guess, Cinnibar?’ the Ri nodded and then frowned.

  ‘Cinnibar has no political aspirations’, but she is smart and could gain much power. As Queen of Sonora she has shown much compassion for the Rogun plight, sending supplies to us from Sonora and the like, yet she allies herself with Kasan while still remaining neutral in the war. Whatever game she is playing it is a subtle one.’

  ‘Is she a Ri?’ Havoc asked and his master shrugged.

  ‘Female Ri’s are rare. Cinnibar is a powerful Rawn but lacks discipline in uniting all the elements into one, like a Ri, why do you ask?’

  ‘Something Verna said about female Ri’s being powerful and only appearing once ever hundred years or so; she was looking at Aunt Cinnibar intently when she said it.’

  ‘Verna was always clever for her age. No, your aunt Cinnibar is not a Ri, and I suspect never will be. You, that is to say the Blacksword, killed the last one.’

  They both sat by the water’s edge. A kingfisher swooped by on its search for insects. On the calm surface of the river there were small circular ripples as fish sought for drowning flies. Havoc sighed at the allegory of his situation as he watched the predators hunt. He pulled a blade of grass and twisted it around his finger. His master looked at him thoughtfully.

  ‘You want to ask me something master?’ asked the prince.

  ‘Always astute as ever, my prince,’ said Ness Ri, ‘I have organised a quest, I need you to lead it.’

  ‘A quest, for what?’ curiosity had Havoc’s interest.

  ‘The Gredligg Orrinn, I know where it is. Queen Bronwyn has agreed to build me a Sky Ship, and once it is ready, we will leave,’ smiled Lord Ness, enthusiasm in his eyes.

  A mix of emotions ran through the prince as he listened. The Gredligg was the greatest of all Orrinn’s, the name of whoever found it would become legend. The Orrinn was believed to be the sole reason that man existed and revered as the highest receptacle of the gods, but he was not ready for such a responsible task.

  ‘Where is it? ... My lord, I’m in the middle of a war, I can’t just take on a quest now. We need to get out of the marsh alive first.’

  Lord Ness looked crestfallen; they were both startled as a female voice called to them.

  ‘There you both are, food is served my Lord Ri,’ said Queen Bronwyn, as she walked towards them with her black hair bouncing behind her, Havoc thought she looked attractive in her tight fitting armour. There was a healthy radiance about her.

  Sensing that the two wished to be alone, lord Ness stood and bowed to the queen.

  ‘Think on it my lord,’ he said to the prince, ‘I will see you later,’ with long loping strides he walked out of sight.

  ‘Told you about this quest, did he?’ said Bronwyn, and Havoc nodded, ‘thought so, he arrived last month to ask me to build a Sky Ship for him, I agreed, but it will take some time.’

  Havoc stood by her as they looked at the other bank of the river. One hundred feet separated the prince’s army from freedom. In the distance over to the west, they could see the sun setting over a small mountain with a ruined fort called Skytop. Behind it was the large expanse of the beautiful Fess Woods.

  ‘I left Barnum in charge of the Eternal Forest,’ said the queen, ‘he’s actually not so bad when you get to know him,’ Havoc was not listening, he was looking at the ash tree on the other bank again. The early spring had caused its young buds to burst into leaf and some of its branches were a profusion of lush green that shook in the breeze.

  ‘You were right about Lord Rett,’ she laughed, ‘putty in my hands; I managed to convince him to allow your brother to escort me to you,’ added Bronwyn.

  Havoc stood up, turned to the other ash on his side of the river, and walked over to rub the palm of his hand over the smooth grey bark.

  ‘Is there something wrong? You have barely spoken to me all day,’ the queen stood with her hands on her hips as she watched Havoc, ‘you’re upset about Barnum, and I know he dislikes you but...’

  Havoc shushed her as he walked around the tree, ‘how tall would you say this ash is?’

  The question surprised her, ‘ahh...about seventy feet maybe more, why?’

  ‘What about that one?’ Havoc pointed to the other ash that sat in line with their one. The newly sprouted leaves glistened bright green in the rays of the evening sun.

  ‘Probably a bit taller,’ Bronwyn was frowning at him, ‘Look Havoc, I need to tell you something...important.’

  ‘That will do just fine,’ he said with a smile on his face, ‘will you be able to manipulate both trees and make a bridge?’

  ‘It is important because it is about us...eh what? Trees, what bridge?’ Bronwyn was flustered.

  ‘Link those two trees together and make a bridge so we can escape the marsh and Zolar.’

  The queen was shocked into silence; she looked exasperatedly at Havoc and shook her head.

  ‘I alone do not have the talent to move them, this is not the Eternal Forest, and we Falesti believe that the Rings of Terbaum and Earth Orrinns give us the ability to use our gifts. We are far from home here.’

  ‘There is a multitude of Fal
esti to give voice to your songs, you must make this happen, or we may die under Zolar’s swords.’

  She looked into Havoc’s bright green eyes, then at the trees.

  ‘The distance is too great,’ she did not sound convincing, even to herself.

  ‘I know you can do it...Please.’

  A warm still evening helped the voices soar, a lazy river, deep and cold, barred their freedom. The Songs of the Falesti rose together in tuneful harmony and with a lilting grace.

  All of the native Forest Folk agreed with the queen. They never sung their songs outside of the forest and certainly not for this task, but unlike the queen, they were willing to give it a go. Bronwyn relented; the looks of hope on her people’s faces gave her the confidence to carry out the prince’s plan.

  Her voice was the first to lift the spirits of the plants. No wind carried the sound, but all of the trees swayed of their own accord. The soldiers voices added to hers, layering over the harmony. By now, the army grouped into their companies because of the terrain by the riverbank and marshland. They tried to huddle closer giving more power to the songs.

  The booming drone and harmony of the male voices, tenor, alto and bass, mixed with the queens. Female Falesti, having more talent than men in plant manipulation, were more suited to singing. The queen’s voice, high pitched and clear above the males, was like a holy mantra chanting to the forces of nature.

  Havoc watched as everyone singing stared hard at the trees, concentration etched on their faces. Beside him, Lord Ness mumbled to himself with his eyes closed, attempting to help the singers in their task and drawing on the four elements. After five minutes the task seemed hopeless, the trees just swayed to the rhythm.

  Something shifted in the prince’s mind and he shivered.

  Allow me this task said a hissing, whispering voice. Havoc looked around him, but the voice was in his head, clear and demanding.

  ‘What?’ he whispered.

  They will all fail if you do not allow me domination to aid them, said the Blacksword.

  Havoc had felt that the separate persona had been growing in power for some time now. On the other hand, was it his madness finally surging to the surface of his mind to make him hear voices? He was wary; alternatively, he was also curious.

  The Blacksword sensed this and he felt the inner mind of the entity nod, Aye, young prince, I have abilities that no other human has, not even a Ri could come close to the power of myself or the Sword that Rules.

  ‘What do you want?’

  To help, let me show you. Let me see through your eyes and show you the power of nature, the power of gods.

  Havoc thought for a moment. His situation was precarious now. Zolar had moved his host into the outskirts of the marsh and would soon be upon them. The prince knew that he could not hope to fight him on open ground without an edge or an ability to reduce his enemy’s numbers. His only hope was to cross the river. Now, that was a plan that was failing, because the trees moved no further than a few inches and hope was fleeing on the faces of the singing crowd.

  He felt he had no choice and the Blacksword knew this.

  ‘Alright, what do I do?’ he said.

  The Blacksword said nothing. It was as if he was waiting on permission from the prince to rush forward from the dark recesses of his mind. Havoc wavered in dizziness’ for a second them regained his balance and stood straight.

  Then the most amazing thing happened.

  His vision became so vibrant and clear he almost shouted out aloud in astonishment. The Blacksword was allowing him to see such an array of colours merging in kaleidoscopic confusion that it flashed by so confusingly it almost became hypnotic. He blinked and looked around him at the others, but no one else had noticed the profusion of colour.

  Feel the energy around you, link to it as you linked you curse to the Arts, said the Blacksword.

  Havoc nodded and concentrated on the swaying trees again and the aura of colour around it, which began to give off a vibrant glow as it emanated from the leaves and branches. Not just the trees, everything shimmered with the same dazzling hue. Instinctively Havoc knew what this was, subconsciously at least; he allowed his mind to fuse with the sound and colours and felt a booming pulse go through him from the ground.

  ‘Energy!’ he whispered to himself, ‘from the Dragon Lanes,’ he felt awed by this revelation and wondered why he was able to see it when others could not.

  They are not as enlightened as I am, came back his answer for the Blacksword.

  Paths of colourful rainbows linking from the trees to the singers and pulsed in time with the song and the heartbeat of the earth, though Havoc could see that the energy of the singers was not enough for the task.

  He knew what he had to do; somehow, whether he fathomed it out by himself instinctively, or answered by the Blacksword, he just knew the answer. Volatile charged particles wormed around the singers and oozed from the ground it bright yellow hues which he could see more clearly that the others colours. He linked a Pyromantic Surge to the paths of energies, specifically to these yellow hues that were so abundant, and he pushed this mass of Pyromantic power towards the trees.

  What happened next stopped the singers in mid chorus. The two ashes bent towards each other, linking branch and bough. The trees creaked and groaned as if in protest, a liquid mulching sound told the viewers that the trees were fusing together and becoming one. It only took a few minutes, but when the dramatic merging was accomplished, what stood before them was a perfect wooden bridge, wide enough for two horses to cross together and also complete with handrails made from thin branches.

  The silence was deafening. Lord Ness was staring at Havoc, wide eyed.

  Havoc smiled and clapped his hands together loudly, which made everyone jump.

  ‘Good job everyone, I knew you could do it,’ he chuckled.

  There was much movement as the host gathered their things. Jericho and Mad-gellan braved the bridge first. Powyss and Little Kith both laughed at Jericho’s test technique as he jumped up and down at the centre of the bridge. Both men walked back off claiming it was safe.

  ‘You did very well my queen,’ said Havoc to Bronwyn as they both watched the horses go over first, ‘there is always hope.’

  ‘Havoc there is something you should know,’ said the queen.

  ‘Oh... what is that my dear?’

  ‘I’m pregnant. And it’s yours.’

  Chapter 15

  The Battle of the Fess

  Marshal Zolar wasted no time in closing the trap. Once his men were in position he moved them forwards hoping to tighten the noose on Havoc’s army. However, the reports from the scouts up ahead shocked the marshal.

  ‘A bridge! How is that possible? The Stonebridge is the only way over the river?’ he asked the scout.

  ‘Not sure how they did it sir, but half their number are on the far bank already,’ said the soldier.

  Zolar ordered his men to move faster and catch the Raiders.

  Mad-gellan, Little Kith and Jericho were given the task of defending the bridge from the marsh end with their company’s while everyone else moved across to the other side. The process was slow but professionally executed. Once everyone was over Havoc ordered Mad-gellan and the others to regroup, but Zolar’s vanguard had reached them at this point and they made the crossing difficult as they charged out of the woods and filled the narrow strip of grassland at the riverbank. The Eternal archers gave their infantry cover and the Raiders defended behind their tall shields and spears as they moved back from the approaching Vallkytes, over the bow-hump of the tree-bridge.

  The problem was, if the Raiders could use the bridge then so could the enemy. Lord Ness solved this issue by waiting for the last of the Raiders to cross. He then brushed his hand over the bent trunk of the thick ash. A terrible wrenching sound shook the warm air as the trees snapped back into place, leaves and broken branches rained down on the river as the mighty trunks swayed upright to a stop. It had taken the power of the
prince and thousands of Falesti soldiers singing together and Lord Ness broke their powerful spell with a mere wave of his hand. The Ri noticed the mystified faces of his friends and claimed that the bridge broke on its own accord. Emphasising, quite strenuously, that Ris’ were not allowed to interfere, only to observe. No one argued with him.

  Havoc moved his army quickly towards the Skytop Fort realising that Zolar would now have to move his men further up stream to the east of the Stonebridge and that would take some time to accomplish. The prince had a few hours of reprieve to organise his host.

  The cone shaped hill of Skytop was at the end of a long chain of low hills that loomed over an ancient dry lakebed. The lake, at some point in its life, had linked with the Tarridun River, but had become blocked and then dried up. Although, at its northern edge water still saturated the ground making it treacherously boggy, yet the main basin of the lake was dry and overgrown with meadow grass. With the ruined fort on the hill sitting on the lakes eastern edge, the trees of the Fess woods overlooked the western bank on the far side. The woodland sat high up on a twenty-foot sloping ridge that the waters of the old lake had carved out long ago. Now its banks were green with grass, so it seemed to slope gradually down to the dry lakebed.

  Havoc ordered his Raiders, Falesti, and the Legion to camp on the defensive ramparts of the old fort which had once been used as a watchtower and Vallkyte outpost during the time of the Dragor-rix War but had since fallen into ruin.

  ‘Do you intend to fight?’ asked Mad-gellan after ordering his men into columns and marched onwards by his junior officers. He had approached the prince as he scrutinised the landscape of the dry lakebed.

  ‘Put it this way, I’m sick of running, major,’ said Havoc, ‘I will fight him on my own terms. On the terrain of my choosing; this field will do nicely.’

  ‘This is a killing ground,’ Mad-gellan said in surprise as he looked around the flat level ground, ‘surely you won’t fight him here, sir, it’s too open. Zolar’s heavy cavalry will ride right through us.’