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

by P D Ceanneir

  They had reached the end of the bridge now. In the distance, the full moon bathed the Circle of Carras in white light and tall shadows. Its single dust ring shimmered as it spun around the satellite. The couple continued to walk slowly. Havoc listened intently as the young girl beside him recounted the last part of her story.

  ‘At the Mulvend I found the flat stone; with the “m” you carved into it behind the spring itself. I prised it loose and pulled out the wax sack with the trinket box still inside.

  ‘Hoban and Neiva were franticly searching for me in the two days that I was gone. However, I returned. They found me sitting at the dinner table, dirty and dishevelled, the box open and its contents of gems emptied over the tabletop. That is when I spoke to them for the first time in four years.

  “My name is Bleudwed, I’ am the Countess of Haplann. The man who brought me here was Havoc De Proteous Cromme, Prince of the Roguns and I thank you for looking after me.”

  Havoc looked down at her, ‘What did they say to that?’

  ‘They were speechless for a while, but they knew you and I was different, they knew I spoke the truth. After a few days, I rode with Hoban and four of the men from the new settlers’ to Haplann. The land was safe now thanks to you and the Regent Morden and I proved my true identity to him and the Major of Caphun who knew me of old.

  ‘Morden said to me that on my return he was to step down as Regent. I denied him that right, he is to remain in charge of Haplann and to be the commander of my forces in Caphun. You have made a good choice with Morden, I like him.’

  ‘You are kind,’ said Havoc looking at the moon bathed circle of stones. Flashes of memory and déjà vu shot through him. He stopped dead, staring at the circle.

  ‘Is there something wrong?’ Bleudwed was looking from Havoc to the circle, something buzzed and moved in Havoc’s coat pocket, he reached in and pulled out the shinning Lobe Stone.

  ‘What is...?’ Bleudwed stared at the flashing stone as Havoc passed it to her, but the prince was staring at the stone circle.

  ‘Something is coming,’ Havoc’s voice was a harsh whisper; Bleudwed witnessed his eyes changing to complete black. The scream in her throat stalled when she heard the loud crack from the Circle of Carras.

  Something walked from the circle of stones, and it was not human.

  Chapter 24

  Drakken

  Verkin felt the arrival of the Drakken also and did not understand why. He jumped up from his seat dropping his wine glass. He bellowed at the top of his lungs, ‘DRAKKEN, DRAKKEN!’

  People looked at him, startled; Velnour, who was close by, rushed to his side.

  ‘Verkin, Verkin...stop! What’s wrong with you?’ he grasped Verkin’s shoulders shaking his friend, Powyss appeared by his side.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he said.

  ‘The Blacksword is in danger!’ said the pale Verkin, ‘we’re all in danger!’

  Powyss suddenly turned to look over the heads of the concerned onlookers.

  ‘Where is Havoc?’ he said.

  The black eyes of the Blacksword stared at the creature stepping out of the Circle of Carras. In its large talon like hand, Bleudwed saw that it carried a similar glowing orb that she held. Havoc shook his head and the black eyes returned to the normal green of the princes.

  ‘The picture in the Orrinn,’ he said, ‘it’s coming true.’

  ‘What is it Havoc...what is wrong?’ Bleudwed was clearly confused.

  The creature pulled back the hood of the purple Havant cloak to reveal its monstrous features. Green coloured scales covered its face, a flat convoluted nose and a wide mouth with black lips and needle sharp teeth took up most of its features. Underneath its horn-ridged head and wide brow were white hooded lids. However, it was the monster’s eyes that sent a shiver down Havoc’s spine, for they were red with the two reptilian pupils in each eye and they fixed him with a stare of pure malice.

  Havoc recognised them from the dream he had about Sin and Dex. They were the eyes of a dragon, but this creature was clearly not a dragon.

  The creature placed the Lobe Stone in a pouch that was part of a row on its shoulder harness. The large scaly chest of muscled mass flexed as he moved. Underneath the robe it only wore short leather trousers that seemed too small for it and ended just above the knee.

  It reached behind its back and unhooked two steal axes. Each with half-moon shaped blades at the ends. He connected the handle ends together with a click to make a double-headed axe-staff.

  Havoc grabbed Bleudwed’s hand, breaking her gap-mouthed stare at the monster that stomped towards them.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked Havoc as he pulled her back to the bridge.

  ‘I’m not going to stay and find out. I’ am going to get you out of here,’ they ran. Bleudwed pulled up her skirts to move faster in order to keep up with Havoc, she heard him shout on the guards who ran to defend their prince.

  As a Ri, Lord Ness was more attuned to the constant fluxes of the Dragon Lanes under his feet than most Rawns. He felt the use of the Drift but only slightly. When Verkin started shouting hysterically, he instinctively knew something was wrong and sought out the captain. He found him being hauled away by Powyss and Mad-gellan with a concerned Velnour trying to calm him down. People around them seemed frightened by Verkin’s hysterical behaviour.

  ‘Stop, stop!’ said the Ri to the others as he caught up, ‘Captain Verkin, has something come through the Drift?’

  ‘Yes, Drakken,’ Verkin was trying to pull away from his friends, ‘help the Blacksword, a Drakken has come for him!’

  Lord Ness gasped, ‘that’s impossible!’

  The guards did as the prince ordered and went to meet the intruder as it reached the far end of the bridge. When they got closer, they hesitated as they took in the full aspect of the eight-foot tall monster. The Drakken charged them quickly so the guards had to defend with sword and shield. The first soldier took the full force of the axe-staff on his shield. The blow lifted him off his feet and into the man behind him. Both men skidded along the paving stones of the bridge.

  A third guard lunged at the creature, but the Drakken caught the blade in his left hand and threw it, and the soldier, off the bridge. The soldier screamed as he fell on the sharp rocks and churning sea one hundred feet below.

  The fourth fared better, he directed lashing cuts at the monsters legs, but the creature twisted round with his staff, hooked an end around the guard’s legs and pulled him off his feet; he brought one of the axe ends down on his head with a splintering crack.

  The first two had recovered and rushed the Drakken. The creature roared and swung his staff like a club. He swiped both men off the bridge, causing them to crash through the stone parapet as they went.

  Let me destroy him; get me to the Sword that Rules! The Blacksword screamed in his head.

  ‘I will,’ said Havoc as he glimpsed the deaths of the soldiers as he urged Bleudwed towards the entrance to the ballroom, he shouted for more guards and found Sir Brynd coming towards him.

  ‘Brynd, raise the City Watch; get more guards to the palace. Find weapons for everyone, go now!’

  Brynd never asked why, he just carried out the princes orders.

  Between them Havoc and Bleudwed closed the oak doors to the ballrooms bridge entrance foyer and slammed home the locking bolts. More guards were racing down the corridor to their left; he ordered them to watch the door.

  ‘Kill whatever comes through there!’ he said.

  Havoc then took the steps to the open double doors of the ballroom shouting for everyone to leave. Jericho and Hexor pushed through the crowd.

  ‘What’s wrong boss?’ asked Jericho, ‘Verkin is going mad, and most people are in a panic.’

  ‘Something big and seriously annoyed is heading this way Jericho. Close the doors and barricade it with something. Hexor, round up the others and get everyone out of here.’ They did as they were instructed. Jericho summoned Linth and Felcon to him and then they jointl
y tipped over the buffet tables and pushed them against the doors, others arrived with benches to stack onto the tables.

  Confusion and panic spread across the guests as Hexor, Mactan, Gunach and Sir Colby calmly ushered them out of the north doors. Havoc, with Bleudwed following behind, ran to the west vestibule that led to the staircase and the upper rooms.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked him as she tried to keep up.

  ‘To my personnel quarters,’ he shouted over his shoulder.

  ‘Er... this is all a bit sudden, I had hoped for a kiss first.’

  Havoc laughed despite the anxiety he felt at the menacing creature invading his home. He stopped and turned, holding Bleudwed as she ran into him, and he kissed her full on the mouth.

  ‘I was actually going to get my sword,’ he said to her as he broke the kiss, looking into her wide blue eyes.

  ‘Sorry, it was my fault,’ she gasped, ‘I joke when I’m nervous.’

  There was a loud crash and screams behind them coming from the stairway. Havoc grabbed her hand again and hauled her after him towards the stairs.

  There was a loud bang, like a door being ripped off its hinges, just as Jericho pushed the last of the long niche benches up against the ballrooms thick oak double-doors. They heard fighting as the guards tackled whatever was on the other side. The inhuman roar it made did not leave much to the imagination, the screams of the dying guards was all too familiar though.

  ‘Just what are we dealing with here?’ said Felcon as he stood next to Jericho.

  The commander shrugged, but he heard Lord Ness behind him say, ‘if Captain Verkin is right, then it’s a Drakken.’

  ‘What is a Drakken?’ asked Mactan as he wedged chair into the barricade pileup. There were still people moving out of the ballroom, panic gripping them at the sound of the thing outside the doors. The king turned from helping them and shouted an answer to Mactan.

  ‘Dragonstalker’s, dead human flesh fused with energy from the Dragon Lanes to create a terrifying monster. They were used in the olden days of the Dragor-rix to hunt down rogue dragons. They haven’t been seen for thousands of years, but why is one here now?’

  ‘I remember grandfather telling me about them,’ said Gunach, ‘frightful abominations, they are not nice.’

  ‘That’s an understatement,’ said Magnus as he pushed Eleana behind him as another roar echoed and the door vibrated from the sound of it.

  Just then a loud thump shook the doors like something very heavy slamming against it. The women in the ballroom screamed. Some more guards filtered through the west chancel, Mad-gellan took a spear from one, and several of the Raider officers did the same.

  ‘We need to fight together,’ said Lord Ness.

  Another crash hit the door and the tables moved slightly from the force. Lord Rett, being the king’s champion and the only one armed with his own sword, walked forward in front to the king with Selnour raised.

  ‘Your weapons will be useless against it,’ said the Ri, ‘It’s scales are difficult to penetrate. Use the Rawn Arts instead.’

  ‘That’s good,’ moaned Furran in a deadpan voice, ‘I don’t feel so bad about leaving my sword in my room.’

  ‘Oh, and they can also breath fire,’ informed Lord Ness. They all looked at the Ri in horror, Wyrmfire, actually.’

  ‘Now he tells us,’ said the duke.

  There was a loud whooshing sound and then the door and everything jammed into the barricade, exploded.

  Havoc, and a panting Bleudwed, bust into the princes room. He made straight for the wardrobe, extracted his sword and the black cloak, and pulled on his old boots.

  Bleudwed looked around the large room; she gasped at the rich decor and the four-poster bed in the centre. She jumped as the Lobe Stone still in her hand buzzed again.

  ‘What is this thing?’ she said.

  ‘Lobe Stone, a sort of communicator,’ grunted Havoc as he adjusted the cloak and strapped SinDex to his back. He was fastening the last buckle when he noticed Bleudwed staring at him.

  ‘It is you,’ she said, ‘you are the Blacksword that people speak of. I suspected when I heard the stories, but I never imagined...’

  ‘No, I’m not the Blacksword,’ he said and sighed when he saw her confused frown, ‘but he’s close.’

  The whole palace wing shook and the floor of the room vibrated as a huge explosion rumbled through it. Bleudwed yelped in fear.

  ‘What was that?’ she cried.

  ‘One would hate to imagine,’ said Havoc as he adjusted the cloak and made sure the sword harness was secure. He looked at Bleudwed’s frightened face and gripped her shoulders so she looked straight into his eyes.

  ‘When he comes don’t be afraid,’ said Havoc and closed his eyes. He stood tall and straight.

  ‘When who comes, do you mean the Black...?’ she drew in a sharp breath and put her hand to her mouth in shock. Havoc’s clothes were changing, the green trousers, and white shirt turned black, as black as the cloak, even the sword changed. Its deep darkness did not reflect any light from the oil lamps on the walls. Bleudwed’s eyes widened more when he grew several inches to almost seven feet tall.

  However, his face changed the most. The colour of his flushed cheeks drained away and became bone white and hard like a white marble statue. His lips thinned and drew back over white teeth, his mane of hair disappeared as it receded back from the forehead and just simply vanished, his nose shrunk and became flared the nostrils, and his eyes once the eyelids snapped open, became those completely black emotionless orbs deep set into the skull under a malevolent brow that formed a constant frown. The change was extraordinary. An enchanted shift had taken place. Bleudwed knew it was not the prince standing before her, but someone else was using his body.

  The Blacksword stared at Bleudwed as if seeing her for the first time.

  ‘Who are you?’ he said. To the countess the voice was harsh, raspy and cold, she did not care for it much. She could not answer; only stare in astonishment. The Blacksword tilted his head to one side as if listening to someone.

  ‘Is that right, he tells me your name is Mulvend?’ he enquired.

  The girl nodded slowly.

  ‘He wants you to remain here, remain safe.’

  ‘Where is Havoc?’ she asked and did not feel silly in asking. The Blacksword tapped the side of his head.

  ‘He is safe in here,’ he said and walked past her pulling up the wide cowl to conceal his face in its darkness and headed for the stairs.

  The door, its stone frame and the table barricade behind it, disintegrated into tiny spinning shrapnel that zoomed ballistic around the room. Behind the explosion was a smoky orange fireball, which threw anyone close to the door onto his or her backs. Jericho, Linth and Hexor suddenly caught in the pressure wave of debris, went hurtling through the air. Part of the Fireball clipped Mactan as he dived for cover singing his short black beard and hair and sending Gunach crashing against the far wall. A foot long splinter of wood punched right through Mad-gellan’s left shoulder; he fell to the ground yelling in pain. Felcon did not duck in time as the wood and masonry debris struck him, a chunk of stone hit him on the side of the face breaking his cheekbone.

  Lord Ness reacted quickly and used the third element to harden the air in front of him and disperse the worst of the wreckage from the panicking guests. Although pieces of it still got through to do damage, but most of it turned to dust as he widened the arc of his power. Fragments of rubble and wood littered the dance floor, thick dust and smoke made people cough.

  Velnour, covered in splintered wood and dust with blood flowing into his good eye, had found the king as he walked forward through the ruins and helped him up. Through the smoke, he could see Verkin standing watching the opening that used to be a door. To his left he heard someone cry and moan, but he fixed his attention on the hole in the wall.

  Something walked through it, something big, carrying a white orb in his claw. The Drakken had discarded the purple Havant
cloak. His scales shimmered in what was left of the candlelit chandeliers, grey drool fell in rivulets from its slack black lips. Ironically, with the damage it had created, it still had to duck to get through the opening.

  The women and teenage girls, that had still to exit the ballroom, screamed when the creature came into full view, but it ignored the sound and looked around pointing the orb this way and that as if looking for something.

  Brynd arrived with guards at the west vestibule, they inched forward, spears at the ready. One of them threw his spear and it bounced off the scales on the Drakken’s back. Furran saw this happen, as he got up from the rubble and then decided, as an after thought, to throw away the foot long table leg he was holding. The creature pocketed the orb and then turned on the guards. However, before he could attack, Lord Rett rushed out of a smoke cloud with Selnour raised. The Drakken was fast, but the hereditary sword of the Red Dukes was faster. Lord Rett got under its defence and grasped the axe-staff with one hand while plunging his sword into the heart of the beast, but the tip of Selnour scraped off the plate armour scales of the creatures chest. The Duke looked in shock at the tiny dent he made.

  ‘Oh shit,’ he said and the thing roared. It swung its arm upwards in an arc, clubbing Lord Rett in the chest sending him spinning end over end into one of the stone pillars, cracking the masonry as he bounced off it.

  More screams as the women tried to find a way out. The king shouted for the men to protect the women. Brynd and guards rushed the creature.

  It was chaos; blood spurted over the debris-strewn floor as the monster cut the guards into red ruins with his lethal axe-staff. Brynd’s sword attack was fast, but the monster deflected it and he received a deep cut over his chest for his efforts and fell back, clutching the wound. Powyss waded in, jabbing at the thing with a spear as he hid behind a shield that he had torn from a display he found on the main entrance wall. He twisted and turned as he dodged the monsters weapon. Magnus ran in to aid the commander with one of the guardsmen’s fallen sword. He delivered a scything cut to the Drakken’s back but only managed to scrape the scaly armour and break the tip of the sword. The creature’s elbow hit him as it spun around; the blow sent him skidding through the debris on the ballroom floor. Eleana screamed his name and ran across the floor to reach him. Furran had found a spear and used it to try to trip the thing up while it was intent on fighting Powyss with Little Kith helping, but it moved quickly round and caught him with its axe, slicing upwards to cut his chin and knock him onto his back. The big animal roared in victory as it brought the weapon down on Furran for the killing blow, but Little Kith rammed his shoulder into the things midriff sending it toppling to the ground. The big man started raining blows with his massive fists onto the things flat nose and actually succeeded in drawing blood that was black and sticky. The Drakken struck out, smacked him over to the other side of the room with one blow from his right forearm. Powyss was poised with his spear waiting for Kith to move and he had to quickly step aside as the big man’s body whizzed past him. Then the Drakken lunged at Powyss with alarming speed, grasping the rim of his shield and threw it, with the major still attached, away into one of the dimly lit niches. All the people around the ballroom heard the sound of the old warriors arm breaking.