by P D Ceanneir
The battlemented walls were wider in the west section. This large space incorporated the stables below the walkways where the prince and his officers left their horses. With men to staff the walls and terrain around the castle protected by a wide manmade moat on three sides the Rouge was well defended. The new walls on the fourth side sat on a steep embankment with wooden arrow towers every hundred feet or so.
A large portion of the Rogun army camped to the north of the Rouge. Havoc could see them as he walked the second level walkway to the Red Keeps Hall. Magnus had explained to Havoc that the main entrance no longer led to the banqueting hall but to a reception room that led to the kitchens. The primary rooms of the keep now started on the second level and this meant they were easier to defend.
Despite the warm late autumn evening, a fire blazed in the five-foot high marble fireplace in the largest room in the keep, the library. There among the tall wooden shelves of mouldy old books the prince met an old face, the Red Duke’s factor, Azzen, was stoking the fire.
‘It is so good to see you both home again, my lords,’ he said to Havoc and Magnus as they entered the library, ‘I have taken the liberty of sending a messenger to the king so he should be here shortly. I will send up some refreshments’ from the kitchens.’ He left them alone. Magnus sat on the soft velvet covered cushioned chairs while Havoc browsed the books.
He was not nervous at meeting his father after their dispute of four years previous. The letters he received from him while in Caphun proved encouraging, and he knew the king would forgive him, because Havoc had forgiven himself. He was a different man now and not the boy of the past.
When the king did arrive, they heard him well before he entered the library. His booming voice echoed along the corridor. Both brothers looked at each other and smiled.
‘Where is he?’ he sounded exited, ‘where’s my son?’
The king burst through the door, wearing his royal tabard of Cromme, the two twin black dragons Sin and Dex facing each other and a large acorn held in their claws. He still had on his thick leather-hawking glove on his left hand. King Vanduke had changed only slightly since the prince saw him last. He was fresher and fitter, youthful in energy, and a sparkle shone in his eyes, or was it the start of a tear?
‘My boy, you have come home at last!’ he said as he stomped towards him, boots clumping loudly on the old oak flooring. He grasped Havoc’s shoulders and looked him up and down, ‘you’re taller and thinner, but at least you’re alive. I’ve been worried sick these last few years, welcome home.’ he hugged him tightly, squeezing the air from his lungs.
‘It is good to see you too father,’ Havoc said hugging him back.
‘Yes I’m fine father,’ Magnus quipped, ‘thanks for asking.’ The king laughed and gave Magnus a hug too.
‘We have heard about your victories at the Fess and Cosshead. Is it true that the Vallkyte Navy there was destroyed by the Blacksword?’ said the king.
‘The navy and Cosshead itself is gone,’ answered Magnus. His father gave a sharp intake of breath.
‘And Elkin, is it true you defeated him?’ said Vanduke, ‘how did you accomplish such a feat?’
‘I will let general Elkin answer for me father,’ said Havoc with a big grin.
‘What, he’s here, is he your prisoner?’
‘He has joined my army willingly, and his change of course is fortuitous,’ said the prince, ‘for we have much to do.’
‘We have?’ Magnus and the king intoned together.
‘Yes, because we are going to take back Aln-Tiss.’
The gathering beside the Rogun camp was large; a square meadow accommodated Havoc’s and Vanduke’s officers and nobles. Most stood in the circle surrounding a wooden table where the prince, King Vanduke, Prince Magnus and Lord Ness poured over old maps of the Rogun citadel.
‘The situation for general Plysov has changed,’ said Havoc, ‘he is now cut off from the Vallkytes. Banferry is no longer a thoroughfare thanks to the king,’ there were cheers from the Rogun officers at that and the prince allowed them their praise. ‘The Pass is now in our hands and Cosshead is no more,’ Raider and Legion officers beat an armoured glove on their chests with a loud clang in acknowledgement of their parts in the battles.
‘Further to that, the Southron Pass is being watched by the Jertiani forces under general Balaan,’ continued Havoc, ‘Plysov is effectively cut off from reinforcements and supplies and he has been for the last three to four months.’
‘The Sonoran’s are still sending supplies by sea,’ added the king.
‘Then have Admiral Uriah blockade the ports at Market town,’ shrugged Havoc.
There was an uncomfortable silence at the prince’s answer; all eyes were on the king.
‘Some of our people are still in the citadel under Vallkyte occupation, if we stop the meagre supplies getting in then we risk starving our own people,’ said Vanduke.
‘I realise that father, but it has to be done. I need to force the Plysov out of the citadel and into battle.’
‘How do we do that?’ The king asked.
‘You and the Rogun host will be the bait. If I am not mistaken, Plysov will be looking to break the deadlock. His supplies are low, his men starving; he is alone with no aid from his king. His main threat is you. His aim is to keep the citadel in Vallkyte hands, and defeating you will give him the security and safety he desires. Defeating you, will allow him to push on the Sky Mountains, Banferry even the Pass. Yes, he will meet you in battle, not because he wants to, but because he has to.’
Silence fell amongst the group as they thought about the prince’s words. It was an audacious plan, especially when he laid it all down on the table. Everyone knew that Plysov was in a dire situation with supplies. A month ago, he made a desperate bid to plunder the Aliniani and Jertiani tribes, but General Balaan had been the commander of a joint tribal force. He hid the vast supplies of cattle and grain in the mountains and adopted a scorched-earth policy on the crop fields just as the prince had done in Haplann. Barnstown, in the centre of the Aln Plain, was a cattle town, but it was the scene of many Vallkyte raids. It was now deserted, and had been for the past three years. Its ghostly existence mirrored the rest of the plain around it, deserted by cattle, horses and human alike. The result of General Pysov’s failed raid was a Vallkyte force low on food and moral as they dragged their heels back to the citadel.
General Elkin burst the inflated bubble of the prince’s plan.
‘This is all well and good, your highness, but Plysov can still field twenty thousand men at the least; most of them Nithi I grant you, but a sizable army none the less. The Roguns can only produce ten, or thirteen with your Raiders.’
‘Numbers have never been a problem for me in the past, general,’ smiled Havoc as the officers around him chuckled.
‘Ha ha, very droll sir. The thing I’m getting at is Plysov is not stupid; he will not risk leaving the citadel unguarded. Two thousand can easily hold Aln-Tiss. Even if we defeat him we will still need to take the citadel.’
Murmurs of agreement surrounded the prince, Havoc held up his hand for quiet.
‘The general is right gentlemen, but I intend on being inside the citadel before Plysov leaves to fight the Rogun army.’
Everyone stared at him in surprise. Before anyone could ask how the prince was going to achieve this fantastic feat a female voice chimed high above the heads of the men.
‘How will you be able to get in, my lord?’ a group of men on Havoc’s right was jostled apart and the small slender figure of Lady Vara walked out from the crowd. She had aged since the last time he saw her. Lines on her forehead creased as she frowned at Havoc.
‘Vara this is not a place for you...’ began the king but Vara shushed him like a child.
‘Quiet Van, I want your brilliant son to tell me how he is going to pull off the impossible,’ she said hands on her hips. The prince could not help but notice the scathing sarcasm in her voice. He had hoped to avoid any con
frontation with his aunt; he smiled at her reassuringly.
‘It’s good to see you Aunt Vara, I hope you are well?’ she only answered by folding her arms and scowling more, the prince sighed.
‘There is an old secret tunnel from the River Mali that comes out inside the palace grounds. That’s how I intend to get in.’ Men around Vara gasped at this, the king and Magnus both asked where the tunnel was, but Vara shouted for silence.
‘Where did you come by this information?’ she asked, Havoc hesitated for a moment.
‘My sister Verna told me in a dream,’ he said and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Verkin flinch. Silence shrouded the group, everyone stared at the prince and Vara looked pale.
‘Did she now?’ said Vara, ‘and what exactly...’
“Repentance shall be denied, Suffering shall be thy final end, and ye shall be blind to the hidden passage. Until destiny looms, with death in his wake,” quoted the prince, ‘she said this to her executors as she died, I believe it’s a prophecy.’
Before Vara could ask more, Lord Ness intervened, ‘the “hidden passage” you speak off is your great-grandfathers secret route from the citadel, but I have already explained to you my lord, it has been destroyed years ago.’
‘Oh, that hidden passage,’ said the king, ‘nobody has ever been able to find the palace entrance for that. I always thought my grandfather made it up.’
‘I know where it is, but it makes no difference; it’s the Mali end I’m interested in,’ said Havoc, he was the one frowning now.
‘There is tons of earth and rocks you could not hope to excavate it in...’ said Lord Ness but he stopped as he looked into Havoc’s bright green eyes.
‘I will clear the blockage, Lord Ness. You of all people know I can do it,’ everyone looked perplexed at the prince’s remark; they saw a sombre Ness Ri nod.
Dolment witnessed the exchange. Like him, most people were confused, but the king, Vara and Magnus tried not to look at the prince. There was something strange at work here and for him the mystery of Prince Havoc deepened.
Chapter 20
King Valient’s Secret
The small entourage made their way to Magnus’s summer retreat.
They travelled for days’ crossing the mountain passes that only a few of the mountain scouts, who had grown up in the area, knew about. The Master of the Rouge had found secluded woodland next to a placid lake over a year ago now, and had built his two-storey log cabin calling it Lake Serene House.
‘Eleana loves it there and spends most of the year living in the cabin. She likes the Rouge well enough, but finds it cloying even when we spend the winter there,’ said Magnus to Havoc on the long journey. The prince was looking forward to seeing Eleana although he had a twinge of doubt about the whole situation. He realised that things had changed for Eleana, mainly for Magnus and their children, but most of all, Havoc had changed.
On the journey they passed by the camp Havoc had last seen Eleana. The silvery sparkle of the Pyromancer’s Rage shone in the sunshine. Magnus had told him that the since that day the camp had never been used again by the order of the king.
After another day of travel, they reached Lake Serene. It was like a miniature Vale, a forest and small lake surrounded by high mountains. There was only one way in through a narrow gap hidden by trees making its concealment perfect against patrolling Vallkytes if they ever penetrated this deep into the mountains, which they never did.
The lakes log cabin was long with a high peaked cedar slate roof and several outhouses that housed twenty soldiers and their families to help guard the Mistress of the Rouge. The calm glass surface of the small lake was not far from the buildings and some people were bathing at the long jetty that jutted out from the shores edge. Adults and children played in the shallows, a happy scene, which broke the peaceful picture of the surrounding lush trees and sharp peaked mountains.
The three guards at the entrance welcomed their master. One ran down to the lake to inform everyone of their arrival, but an old man with short white hair and a tanned leather face, came running from the cabin. Havoc smiled broadly as he recognised the man and walked towards Old Toms, who in turn, had a big grin on his face showing his toothless gums.
‘How are you doing old timer?’ the prince said as the old man gripped his arm.
‘Haven’t ran that fast for sixty years,’ said Old Toms panting, ‘but it was worth it.’
‘Sixty years? So you must have been seventy nine then,’ laughed Havoc. Old Toms gave his ear a playful cuff.
‘Cheeky bugger!’ laughed the old man.
‘Told you I’d get him back in one piece, Toms,’ said Magnus.
‘You did well boy, both of you did well.’
There was a scream of joy from behind Old Toms, a four-year-old boy with dark brown curly hair ran to Magnus shouting, ‘Dada, dada, dada!’ Magnus picked him up and gave him a cuddle.
‘Miss you dada,’ said the tot.
‘I missed you too. I’ve brought someone to see you,’ he walked over to the prince, ‘this is your Uncle Havoc, Havoc this is your nephew, Havoc Valient.’
‘Hiya,’ said the boy, ‘me Havoc too,’ his green eyes were wide and bright. He looked at the prince with wonder.
The prince chuckled, ‘Hello Havoc Valient, you’re growing so quick. Where is your mother?’ said Havoc and the boy asked his father to put him down. He gripped Havoc’s hand and dragged him towards the lake.
‘There, there!’ said the boy excitedly. Havoc’s heart flipped at the sight of Eleana She was still as beautiful as he remembered her. She wore a long blue linen skirt and a white top, and she carried a two-year-old girl in one arm. She was staring at Havoc as his nephew dragged him down a dirt track towards the lake. He could see she was smiling.
‘So the prodigal son returns,’ she said with humour as Havoc Valient urgently pulled his uncles arm, ‘it’s good to see you Havoc, ‘she kissed his cheek and looked into his eyes, ‘you have changed much. I see the pain is still there in your eyes,’ she said with a frown.
‘I know, and the tears are still in yours I see.’
Eleana sighed she brushed his cheek with her hand and turned to the child in her arms, ‘this little one is Anamia, the girl hid her face in her mother’s neck, ‘say hello to your uncle now.’
Magnus appeared at that moment, both he and Eleana kissed, and he took his daughter in his arms and tickled her. She gave a squeal of delight, but still hid her face from Havoc.
‘I will go and prepare supper for everyone,’ said Eleana, ‘then my husband and I have some catching up to do.’ She gave Magnus a coy wink and he beamed. Havoc stared after her as she walked towards the house. He had the distinct impression she wanted to say more to him, but not with Magnus around.
Magnus eventually left with Anamia once the shy little girl said hello to her uncle. Verkin and Sir Colby looked after the horses. Lord Ness talked with Old Toms as they walked by the stables and Havoc was alone with his nephew, Velnour and Little Kith. The three adults surveyed the scenery around them and Havoc took in a long breath of fresh air. Havoc Valient, still clutching his hand and staring up at him, did the same.
‘Pretty little family home,’ said Velnour.
‘I’d like a place like this when I retire,’ said Kith in a rare reflective mood.
‘Nah, you will be dead before then, you great oaf!’ scoffed Velnour jokingly. Then Havoc and his nephew both laughed as Little Kith picked up the cavalry captain with effortless ease and threw him into the lake.
The feast that night was delicious. Hunches of venison roasted for hours on a spit basted in sweet mountain sorrel, garlic and wine marinade. The prince’s friends, the guard’s and their families, relaxed and chatted together as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. As the night wore on and people staggered off to bed, a little worse for wear from Magnus’s homemade ale, Havoc sat with Eleana on the edge of the lakes wooden jetty.
‘Magnus recites bed time stories to Havoc Vali
ent about you from the rumours’ we picked up over the years,’ said Eleana as she held his hand, ‘he thinks you don’t exist. Of course, Magnus’s stories are a little fanciful, but he loves them anyway.’
‘I hope I was brave and heroic in them?’
‘Of course,’ she said seemingly affronted at the question, but smiled anyway. They watched the moon glimmer on the calm surface of the lake. Its bright single ring glinted silver across the lapping water. It was the first time in months that Havoc felt at peace. Even the lingering presence of the Blacksword was forgotten about.
‘Magnus tells me that you have found a close friend in the Queen of the Eternal Forest?’ Eleana asked coyly.
‘Magnus, for once, is right.’
‘How close?’
Havoc turned to face her; they looked into each other’s eyes.
‘I love her the way I love you,’ whispered Havoc. Eleana’s eyes watered, but she nodded in understanding anyway.
‘Oh Havoc, it can’t be as it was before. I love you too but I love, and need, your brother more. Anyway, he tells me this Bronwyn is married?’
Havoc nodded.
‘You never seem to have much luck in love do you?’ she kissed him lightly on the cheek then stood; she made to walk back to the house but turned back to him.
‘He’s yours you know,’ she said and the remark made Havoc suddenly look up at her. The silver sheen of the moon picked up the tear that trickled down her cheek.