Haven Keep (Book 1)

by R. David Bell

  No one noticed the two new comers at first, but as they rode closer to the ruins of Stone Abbey eyes began to follow them, then the murmurs arose. It was not likely anyone here could recognize Von. He wore his helm from Haven Keep and unless someone was familiar with him they would not know who he was, especially with his features obscured.

  The murmurs of the crowd continued, but no one approached them. Then Soren saw Dethan. He should have been inside with the other chiefs. He came from the direction of Stone Abbey and did not look pleased. Even clad in his ceremonial armor he looked downcast. At his side was Anora, a crown of flowers braided through her hair. That detail did not seem right.

  Von saw the two as well and immediately trotted his horse to meet them. Dethan looked at him curiously, obviously not recognizing him immediately. Anora did and she lowered her eyes. She did not appear happy to see Von.

  Von dismounted and removed his helm smiling a hugely despite the surroundings. Soren knew the smile was for Anora, but when Von spoke he spoke to Dethan.

  “Dethan, is all well? What is the situation? Have the Chiefs met? Have they voted?”

  Von only glanced at Dethan once or twice as he spoke, his eyes focused on Anora, drinking her in. Soren wondered if Von realized the significance of the flower crown. He hoped Von did.

  “They are voting now,” Dethan said. “They would not allow me to participate.”

  “What?” Von stammered. “Why, are you not the new chief of the Celtens?”

  “They refused to name me such until after this first vote,” Dethan explained. “The vote must be unanimous and Ky feared I would vote in the contrary.” He looked at Anora who still had not taken her eyes from the ground. “Especially considering who my new bride is.”

  “New bride?” Von asked. “I did not know you were married.”

  “Just two nights ago.” Dethan grabbed hold of Anora’s hand and she finally looked up.

  She stared into her new husband’s face as he continued, still avoiding eye contact with Von.

  “A marriage to seal the union between the Kailfen and the Celten.” Dethan beamed down at her. Soren could easily see Dethan adored her, but it was hard to perceive what Anora thought.

  She finally turned her gaze to Von, a defiant look in her eyes, daring him to question her.

  Von was visibly shaken. “I...,” he cleared his throat, “don’t understand.”

  “I needed to assure the Celtens remained our allies,” Anora said. She pleaded with Von to understand. She was oblivious to the smug look on her husband’s face that was beginning to turn more somber. “You must know the danger my father is in. It had to be done.”

  “You father is not in danger. The Halfen army has been destroyed!” Von’s voice cracked. Soren could see him struggling to keep control.

  “I am a lady,” Anora, emphasized her title, still pleading for understanding. “He is a clan chief. The same as a lord from where you come from.”

  Von stared off into nothing. “From where I come from,” he whispered. Soren wished there was someway to end this. Nothing good could come of it, they had other things to deal with. More pressing matters.

  “You have to understand,” Anora said.

  “Understand what!” Von quivered. “A blacksmith was not good enough for you. I understand that now.”

  “That’s not it at all. I didn’t know. I just found out.”

  “You mean you now know who I am.”

  She just stared at him, not able to answer.

  “I wonder what your father will think of this,” Von said. “What your mother will think.”

  Dethan stepped between them. “Watch how you speak to my wife, Von. I would not like it if you forced me to defend her honor as well as my own.”

  “Your honor?!” Von seized Dethan by the throat. Years of working as a blacksmith gave Von a powerful body, even more powerful than he looked. He hoisted Dethan violently into the air with his hand held fast around Dethan’s throat. Dethan made choking sounds, gasped for air, fighting in vain with his hands to pry Von’s fingers loose. Von slammed him to the earth. The little air left in his lungs was forced out with the jarring impact. Dethan struggled to move. His breaths came in short gulps as he fought in vain to breath.

  “I blame you for this,” Von hissed. His sword was out and under Dethan’s chin, already drawing blood.

  Soren put a hand on Von’s arm, gently so as not to antagonize him more. His arm was hard as rock. Immovable.

  “If you were as faithful as your father,” Von accused, “you would not have needed the persuasions of a woman to cement your loyalty. You did this to her under duress. You are no different than Bethoc!”

  Soren noticed others drawing their swords. Most of them Celten. Soren took a step back so he could more easily guard Von.

  “That may be true Von,” Dethan breathed, choking the words out, “but she is still my wife. There is nothing you can do about it now,” he gagged. “She belongs to me. You have lost.”

  Von released Dethan and straightened. He stood still as a statue, then spoke.

  “My friends call me Von.” His voice was loud enough for all to hear. “I am the son of Trajan. You will call me lord Beovon.”

  Von removed the point of his sword from Dethan’s chin, but Dethan did not move. He was probably still stunned by Von’s strength. Soren was.

  “I will over look the fact you did not come running to defend Baiden until you received compensation, if only for who your wife is. I trust from now on your faithfulness will be unwavering.”

  Von threw on his helm and stalked towards Stone Abbey.

  “Von, wait,” Anora called after him.

  Von ignored her.

  “Wait, please.”

  Her pleads fell on deaf ears. Von continued his march to the entrance of Stone Abbey, seemingly oblivious to everything and everyone around him.

  “Soren! GUARD THE DOOR!”

  “Don’t go in there!” Anora screamed at him. “Von! They will kill you.”

  A crowd had gather to watch the commotion. Most appeared curious, others hostile. Von ignored them all, even the Halfen, except the three who guarded the entrance of Stone Abbey.

  One of them smirked at Von. “I’m sorry we cannot allow you to pass.”

  Another spoke up. “Why don’t we let him. Ky will be very interested in speaking with this young whelp.”

  Von answered with his sword and dagger. He was swift and deadly. Two simultaneous backhand strokes flashed like snake strikes, wicked and clean. The dagger nearly decapitated the first man. His sword cleaved the other in two. Both men were dead before they hit the stone. The third man tried to react, put up some kind of defense. It was useless, he was too slow. Von kicked him full in the chest sending the man airborne. He flew down the steps crashing at the bottom, his head clanging against the huge iron doors. The man lay there unconscious or worse, his neck and head askew.

  “Soren,” Von ordered more calmly this time, his voice cold and hard. “Guard the door. It is time for this treason to end.” He took two steps at a time on his way down.

  Soren tried to stop Von, dashing toward the steps to follow Von down, but when he reached the bottom Von was already slipping through the door. Even Isk and Jen were too slow. Soren heard the barricade bar slide into place behind the door.

  Anora was at Soren’s side.

  “Soren,” she cried through a tear streaked face. “There are fourteen men in there. They are all warriors. They will kill him.”

  “I can do nothing now,” Soren said. He had been to slow. The first time he had ever been too slow in his life. He should have stopped the boy. He sank to his knees and let out a long, troubled sigh, disturbed to find he was more worried about Von’s soul than his life.

  Anora pounded on the door, pleaded for it to be opened. Inside the sounds of fighting sprang up.

  Dethan took hold of his new wife and pulled her away. She collapsed in his arms, sobbing against his chest.

  �
�There is nothing we can do now,” Dethan said. “He is gone. We will mourn him, but if what he said is true your father still lives and will continue to rule in the north.”

  “It is true,” Soren said. He rose to his feet, not wanting to look weak. “The Halfen are scattered. Your father’s victory is complete. I am surprised he is not already here to deal with this rabble himself.”

  Soren could see by Dethan’s expression the man was not sure if Soren had included him in that last comment. Soren did not care what Dethan thought. The young clan chief wasn’t Soren’s problem. Baiden would be here soon enough to sort things out.

  The sounds of violence continued for a few moments then died down. Nothing could be heard through the iron doors. Everyone on the steps held their breath and waited, but no one came out. Anora began banging on the door again, but still there was no answer. Dethan again pulled her away, more gently this time. He led her up the steps and all followed him until Soren was left alone with the dogs and the Halfen man Von had kicked down the steps. The man had not stirred and probably never would.

  Dethan and Anora had given up on Von, but Soren would not. He waited by the doors, alone with his thoughts and the dogs. Jen began to whine and Isk laid his head on her paws to comfort her. Soren couldn’t help but think of himself as a third dog, waiting for his master.

  Another commotion began up above, but Soren ignored it. Von ordered him to guard the door and that was what Soren was going to do. Moments later Soren saw the lady Elizbet at the head of the stairs. Her face was an image of horror. She ran towards the doors.

  “No, no, no. Von, no!”

  Soren met her halfway. She tried to push passed Soren, then went limp in his arms.

  “Not again,” she sobbed. “We can’t lose him again.”

  Soren looked to the top of the stairs once more and saw Baiden standing above, his face grim. Obviously someone had told the new arrivals what had transpired. Alensa was soon at his side then Kaiden as well. Anora appeared too, crying on her mother’s shoulder. Kaiden tried to hide his tears, but Alensa wept openly. She was shattered, as if she had lost a son. Baiden’s hopeless expression was even worse.

  Soren slowly led Elizbet up the stairs, where her children met her. She gathered them tightly in her arms. Soren felt like crying too, only he was not convinced Von was dead. But if he lived, why did he not come out?

  “We will have to dig through the top to get inside,” Baiden said. His grim voice matched his expression.

  Soren nodded. He looked at his palm, the shallow cut was still there, the ragged edges barely starting to heal. It pulsed still, with a power similar to that of his Haven Keep dagger. Von had used his own dagger to perform the ceremony, and that dagger had done something more than just cut Soren. He was bound somehow. Bound to Von. It was something that settled on his bones, chained him more completely than any iron fetters ever could. As soon as he spoke the words of the vow he had felt it, felt a connection to Von. He was sure Kaiden and Yaris did as well, but that connection had changed. Changed sometime after the fight within Stone Abbey had commenced. The binding no longer felt so,...complete. He hoped the change did not signify Von was dead. His young master had entered Stone Abbey a very long time ago. Why did he not come out?

  Soren looked to Kaiden. Kaiden was massaging his palm, shaking his head in denial. He felt it too. Something was different. Soren couldn’t bring himself to believe it, but he had to face the possibility.

  “I had hoped he would still emerge, but I no longer believe he will,” Soren confessed.

  Soren’s hands hung low. He felt more defeated than ever in his life. When he was a child a vyr took everyone that was dear to him, killed all of his remaining family and left him with scars. This was worse. He had failed. Soren finally knew what it was that would make this day dark.

  No one spoke.

  No one moved.

  Von’s friends and loved ones stood at the top of the stairs in silence, stunned, unable to move, paralyzed by their sudden loss. Their pain and anguish manifest in tears and muffled weeping.

  Soren wanted to leave, just be gone, leave this place behind, but where would he go? He could not leave Von’s body inside Stone Abbey. He would stay until Von was retrieved, then help to escort him home, sing the death dirges that would help the young lord find his way into the next life. It was his duty, but he would do it because Von was his friend.

  The somber stillness was suddenly broken, broken by the sound of the iron barricade sliding back from its braces. Everyone faced the great metal doors at the foot of the broad staircase, not daring to hope. The doors moved slowly outward. Soren allowed himself to finally take a breath.

  Von pushed the doors open wide and stood in the arched doorway, his silhouette framed by the carnage behind him. He began a slow climb up the stairs. He wore his sword and dagger on opposite hips, his helm was in his hand. The dark green cloak hung down his back, exposing the armor from Haven Keep, spattered with blood. His face was stained with blood as well, dried now and flaking off. Soren did not believe any of the blood belonged to Von. His eyes were empty and he climbed the stairs slowly, in silence. The two dogs jumped up at Von’s appearance and heeled behind him, flanking their master like some bestial honor guard.

  Elizbet was the first he greeted, though he said not a word to her. He hugged her tightly and relief filled her face, her sorrow gone. Von then scooped up each of her boys and kissed them on the forehead. He turned to Baiden and finally spoke.

  “The traitors are dead,” he announced. “I hear you won a great victory.”

  “We did!” Baiden acknowledged and the tension visibly left him. “There is much to celebrate.” The tears of grief that consumed Baiden’s family were instantly turned to tears of joy.

  Von’s eyes remained dry. He walked slowly to his horse and mounted.

  “Soren, Kaiden,” Von’s voice was cold and emotionless. “I will return for what we removed from Haven Keep. Keep it safe for me.” He turned to Elizbet. “Bet, where is my brother?”

  She looked at him, her relieved expression turning to worry and confusion. “He continues to harry the Halfen, but he will be in Azmark in a matter of days.”

  “I was of a mind to let the Halfen run,” Baiden said, “but your brother did not wish to leave any pricks on which we could stub our toes.”

  “Jubben led the Halfen army?” Von asked.

  “Yes,” Baiden answered. “He has managed to elude us so far.”

  “Too bad he was not here,” Von said, some heat returning to his voice. He glanced around once more. “Bet, tell Dom I am sorry I missed him.” He turned his horse to ride off.

  “Wait!” Bet cried. “Where are you going?”

  “There is something I need to do,” Von answered. He turned again to go. Isk and Jen still flanked him. All eyes stared at his back, once more he turned to speak to Elizbet.

  “Do you remember when we used to play pirates?”

  “Yes,” Bet answered.

  “Tell Dom that what he is looking for is hidden where our buried treasure always was.”

  Bet’s mouth hung open as did Baiden’s.

  Durendal, Soren thought.

  Von disappeared into the trees.

  Chapter Forty

  Corren sat alone on his bed in the small room at the back of the shrine. His last two nights were spent taking care of the wounded and practicing his healing arts. Sleep was a luxury during times like this, but when he did sleep his rest was filled with dreams that were more vivid than any he’d ever dreamed. He knew them for the storm dreams of a cleric.

  Corren suspected Wellen experienced similar dreams. The old cleric possessed a worried look and when his eyes met Corren’s he failed to conceal his anxiousness. Clerics from the north were down to help with the injured as well. They all walked about with the same somber faces. Corren understood why, they sensed the same thing he did, but he suspected none of them quite understood as well as he.

  The dream was of the
largest storm Corren had ever seen. A massive cumulonimbus towering into the night sky, obscuring the constellations the clerics used to interpret events of import. The cloud did not come from the sea as all natural storms do, it flowed out of the south with its enormous anvil stretching over the lands of the north. Lightning flashed throughout the billowing gray, reaching from the sky to the ground. The storm threatened to engulf the north until Corren saw the formation of another storm. A storm much smaller than the first, but filled with just as many lightnings. The storms met in the heavens above Corren’s homeland and exploded in monolithic thunders. Lightning flashed from cloud to cloud, then from cloud to ground, tearing at the earth, burning to ash all in their path.

  The power of the first storm was permeated with a feeling of wrongness, a desired to engulf everything that lay in its course. The other cloud defended the north, but gave no heed to what it destroyed in the process. The first storm devoured as it conquered, the second ravaged indiscriminately. The larger of the lightning storms must be the Horde, the second only gave one clue as to its identity. An identity Corren was sure the other clerics could not know. The lightnings that flashed from the smaller storm had the feel of a sword, a sword Corren helped to create. Corren’s thoughts turned to Von. Where could he be?

  * * *

  Alensa watched Von disappear into the trees. He obviously did not want any one to follow, but what did that matter? He was too young to go off on his own, not yet wise enough to make all his own decisions. He needed nurturing and protection, especially now. She thought of Von as one of her own, hoped that his marriage to Anora would truly make him that one day, but her daughter had gone and done something Alensa did not want to even think about. Did Anora not understand her whole future would be affected by her decision? Alensa knew her daughter had made her decision out of loyalty to her father and to her homeland. She wondered if Anora would have made the same decision if she had known earlier who Von was. She hoped her daughter would be happy, but she knew there would always be regrets and thoughts of “what if?”