Raven was too tired to protest and knew it wouldn't do any good anyway. With her friends and family all gone, there was nothing left for her. Her body felt empty inside, a mere shell of its former self.
“Move out!” Lord Reghan shouted after Raven was placed on the back of one of the horses.
* * *
“Watch where you’re going!” a cook bellowed, pushing Raven away from him with his hip. He rebalanced five plates of food he was carrying and proceeded on down the kitchen aisle, giving her an annoyed glare as he continued on. Life across the Great Sea was similar in many ways to Delvin, but entirely different kingdoms. It was now a land stuck in the middle of an unusually long and harsh winter and creatures from legend.
Two days later, Raven was still in a state of shock. Her entire family, friends and way of life were all gone in an instant. She would find a way to seek revenge on the undead even if she had to return with an army. She would make it happen.
Lord Reghan’s castle was bigger than anything she had ever seen. She was used to a simple, rural lifestyle. This was all so lavish and needlessly spacious.
“That’s the fifth time today you almost knocked something over,” Goodwin said. He gave her a sheepish grin. She hadn’t noticed he was there. Raven felt bad not returning the smile, but she wasn’t in the mood considering everything that happened recently.
There were so many new faces; some friendly, some not. Raven didn’t care. At least the castle provided her with warmth from the harsh winter. Lord Reghan had even given Raven her own small room. The privacy it gave her was quite a luxury. To Raven it was huge; much bigger than any hut she had spent the night in with her family. Lord Reghan seemed like a stern, yet fair man.
“You ready for tonight?” Goodwin asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“What’s tonight?” Raven asked.
“The tournament! Don’t you pay attention at all?” Goodwin asked, grinning. He had short cut blonde hair and Raven, although deep down appreciating his kindness, was starting to become irked by his ability to maintain a level of cheerfulness she was not only unaccustomed to, but didn’t feel anywhere near.
“What’s that?”
Goodwin rolled his eyes. “The annual tournament. How have you not heard of it? Lord Reghan hosts all the Lords from the tip of the North Valley all the way to the shore of the Southern Kingdoms. Even some royalty comes from Delvin and other kingdoms across the Great Sea. Everyone who is anyone will be here!”
Raven shrugged. “Doesn’t really interest me.”
Goodwin looked shocked, almost appalled at her ignorance. Her people had always tended to avoid contact with castle folk, so she knew she would not fit in here. Outside under the stars was where she was meant to be. Here, it felt like the walls were slowly closing in on her, eventually going to suffocate the life from her. There were always too many people bustling about, hurrying back and forth throughout its rooms and hallways. She didn’t care which Lord or Lady was at this tournament. They meant nothing to her.
“Well at least come to the Great Hall tonight,” Goodwin persisted. “I heard there will be several musicians from the Southern Kingdoms, even as far as Loz and Shanredelle. Oh! And there’s supposed to be a bard tonight who is known for his singing in both the South and North with a voice like an angel.”
“I’m invited?” Raven asked incredulously. She didn’t know much about politics, but she was only a kitchen helper, and that didn’t add up.
Goodwin scratched his head.
“Well, not exactly,” Goodwin finally answered after a pause. He leaned in to Raven and whispered, “A few of the kitchen staff are going to sneak into the upper rafters. There’s a ladder in the back of the pantry that leads up there. It’s used by the cleaners to get to cobwebs and the lanterns and such.”
Raven wasn’t sure she wanted to get in trouble. She needed to get her bearings before she left the castle and sought revenge on the Phoenix, but she also needed friends if she was to accomplish anything real.
“Count me in,” Raven said and faked a smile.
* * *
The ladder leading up to the rafters above the Great Hall was rickety and old, its bars screaming out in protest every time she placed a foot down. Raven tried not to think about what would happen if the ladder gave way.
“Come on,” Goodwin said from above her. “Did you fall asleep in the middle of climbing? Everyone’s waiting. It’s about to start!” He waved to her, motioning her to hurry up.
Raven continued the climb and grabbed Goodwin’s hand at the top, letting him help pull her up to a narrow ledge.
She sighed in relief and looked around. The narrow ledge was built from a sturdy oak and extended around the perimeter of the Great Hall. Goodwin ushered her over to the edge where three others she recognized from the kitchen staff waited, peering over the side.
Raven looked down at the dozens of tables and chairs filled with Lords and Ladies in fancy clothes and jewelry. Large platters of food and flagons of ale dotted the long tables. The other kitchen shift scurried about, hurrying to refill wine and ensure the constant stream of food. Raven was thankful she didn’t have to help.
Raven spotted Lord Reghan at the head table talking with several Lords. All of them wore formal outfits, their house emblems stitched into their clothes. Everything was so different, so unnecessarily expensive and lavish. She thought about how her people would react seeing all of this wealth and waste. There were days several of them had had to walk barefoot through the snow or go days without food. Here the hounds were fed better than her people. It made her sick to her stomach.
Lord Reghan suddenly slammed his fist on the table several times and the entire room quieted.
“Lords and Ladies! It is an honor to host another annual tournament for such wonderful people. This year will be just as exciting as it has been in the past,” Lord Reghan announced.
“In just a few more days we start the tournament and there will be much work to do before we begin, but tonight we dine and drink!” He held up his mug and the rest of the room followed suit.
“To the tournament!” Lord Reghan yelled.
“Aye! To the tournament!” The Lords and Ladies cheered.
Raven shifted nervously as the wood creaked beneath her. The landing didn’t seem that sturdy.
“Now, it is with great pleasure that I bring out this year’s entertainment!” Lord Reghan said. “He travelled far to be here.”
“Guess that’s my cue!” a man said as he stepped out of a door along the side wall. He was wearing red and yellow scarves draped about his shoulders and a long green shirt with tight brown pants. He gripped a lute in his left hand and waved to the crowd of people as he walked to the middle of the room where a large space was provided.
“I am Baxter the Bard,” the man said as he strummed the strings on the lute. “I am going to play a new song for you. One that I wrote while travelling here. It’s about the wicked undead from legends past.”
Raven stood up, her eyes watering, a bitter and horrible taste in her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Goodwin asked her. “Stay down,” he warned. “Are you crazy?”
She ignored him. Memories of her sister and friends lying dead in the snow, burnt and helpless, waiting for the crows to feast on them came into her vision. She felt her blood begin to boil in anger.
“It is a true story,” Baxter said. “I have seen the undead with my own eyes. The song is unfinished, but I plan on completing it as the stories come in about the undead and where they travel. All true stories. The undead have awakened and paid me a personal visit. If you are looking for proof then take a look at my wagon. On its wooden surface is the outlines of their long nails scratching across it, searching for human flesh to tear into.”
Laughter erupted from the audience.
Raven’s eyes narrowed in anger. Tears flowed freely now. The Lords and Ladies were laughing, as if the undead was a joke, a foolish story meant to entertain the gullible.
She clenched her fists in anger as the first words were sung. She had no metal flakes left to summon a spell that would silence the bard and with little training in the way of magic, she could not utilize the iron in her blood. Instead she was forced to watch and listen in horror.
After finishing his song, Baxter gave an exaggerated bow and the audience cheered.
Raven felt like she wanted to tear every one of their tongues out with her bare hands. People died because of the undead. Good, innocent people. Her people.
Raven grabbed a rock she had picked up in the kitchen yard earlier that day and threw it with all of her anger at the party-goers below. She knew it was a stupid idea the moment it left her hand. What was she planning to do? At best she hit one of the royals in the head. At worst she knocked over a few glasses.
She felt her body burn with anger, and focused all of that anger on the rock in mid-flight as she closed her eyes and wished for the rock to hurt all those people below, all of the people who laughed at the death of her people.
There was a loud explosion. Raven opened her eyes and her jaw dropped. Below her was a scene of chaos. Two tables had exploded, giant splinters of wood strewn about the dining area. Several people lay on the floor dazed, thrown back by the explosion. All eyes looked up at her. What had she done?
Chapter 15
Greyson lined his men up. Fifty hardened men, hand-picked by himself. They would accompany himself and his crew across the Great Sea. Nothing would ruin this voyage.
“I want everyone on watch even if it looks like nothing but the water out there,” Greyson commanded. “If this goes smoothly, I’ll double your pay. Well, what are you standing there for? Get moving!”
Greyson watched them run off, confident in his decision to spend more money than he had intended. Cutting into his profits this much would still yield a handsome profit. He only hoped the three week voyage went as smoothly as he was hoping.
A carriage suddenly pulled up on the docks and a young woman mage stepped out, a middle-aged Master behind her. The last mage that stepped out was a figure Greyson was dreading running into. The crippled looked around and then followed his companions toward the ship.
Fate had a funny sense of humor. Hopefully Greyson was right and Lance would not recognize him. If he did, the trip would not go smoothly. Greyson was tempted to stay back just in case, but he had promised Master Gretta that he would accompany the ship and if these mages were expecting to meet him, he could be denied payment or something similar.
The ship hadn’t left yet, and the mages could change their minds if they sensed something funny about the arrangement.
The only thing to do was to march right up to them, shake their hands, and hope to limit his interaction with them while the ship sailed.
Greyson sighed and made his way toward the loading planks.
* * *
A guard pointed a crossbow at Raven and let a bolt loose. It landed inches from her face, jutting out of the wood with a twang. She ducked. Several other bolts flew over her head.
“Hold your fire!” Lord Reghan shouted.
“What did you do?” Goodwin whispered harshly to her. He was laying down next to her along with the other kitchen staff.
“You’re going to get us killed!” One of the other kitchen staff shrieked.
“Who is up there?” Lord Reghan asked. “Speak quickly!”
Raven looked at Goodwin and kept quiet.
“If you don’t answer me I’ll have my men start shooting again,” Lord Reghan warned.
An old man approached Lord Reghan and whispered into his ear, too low for anyone else to hear. After a few moments, Lord Reghan took a deep breath and nodded to the elderly man.
“Answer him!” Goodwin said. “You’ll get us all killed.”
Raven clenched her fists in anger, glaring at the arrows stuck in the walls around her. She thought about laying there forever, ignoring the calls for answers.
“Have you gone mad?” Goodwin asked. “For the love of God, answer him!”
It would take them a long time to find a way up here. She could just close her eyes and think about her people and let their warm memories wash over her. Maybe she should let the guards put arrows in her. She would then join her people in the afterlife.
“Answer him!” Goodwin whispered harshly.
Raven shook her head, drawn back to reality by Goodwin’s voice.
“Yes. It’s me, Raven, Lord Reghan,” Raven finally called out.
“I expected so. Show yourself immediately,” Lord Reghan answered. “I do not know exactly what it was you did, Raven, but you hurt a lot of my guests with whatever it is you did. I should throw you in the dungeon for the rest of your life.”
Raven bit her tongue.
Below her, servants ran about tending to those wounded or removing them from the room to get further medical treatment.
“I spared you from freezing to death in the North Valley and this is how you repay my kindness?” Lord Reghan’s face was red with anger and his attempt to keep it under control. “Fortunately for you, my castle Wizard seems to be calling in a favor, and I do believe I owe him one,” Lord Reghan said. “He has saved this kingdom too many times to count.”
“Girl!” A voice she didn’t recognize called up to her. The voice was commanding and Raven imagined it came from someone used to having their requests met.
Raven risked peering over the side and saw an elderly man with golden robes standing next to Lord Reghan. There was an emblem stitched onto the front of his robes of a myriad of different gems, each a different color and shape. Despite being old he was an imposing figure at half a foot over six feet, slicked back gray hair and steely blue eyes, sharp and alert.
“I am Gamayun, the castle Wizard,” the man in the robes said. “I suspect you have abilities that are very, very rare. That wasn’t just metal magic, it was something that has not been seen for a long, long time. I have a simple proposition for you and it could possibly be your only other option in this situation you have just created for yourself. Become my apprentice, work hard and do my bidding and I’ll work on convincing Lord Reghan to spare you from the dungeons.”
There were screams of anger and outrage at these last words, the majority of the Lords and Ladies clearly very upset at the notion of her escaping punishment.
Raven looked around the room. Most of the Lords and Ladies stared at her with either anger or fear.
Raven didn’t see any other option. If she ran for it she wouldn’t get far.
One of the men with dust from the explosion all over his outfit yelled, “You can’t be serious! She nearly killed me!”
Lord Reghan held up his hand. “I understand your anger with her, Lord Jeffrey. I am also angry with her. But this is my castle and my rules. If Gamayun needs an apprentice then I want to grant him that. And you, young lady,” Lord Reghan said while staring at Raven. “You will learn to conduct yourself in an appropriate manner if you are to continue to stay in my castle. Understood?”
Lord Jeffrey scoffed and gave Raven a murderous look. He began to dust himself off, realized it wasn’t going to be easy, and stormed out of the dining hall.
“What is your answer, girl?” Gamayun asked. “Be quick about it. I don’t like waiting and am liable to change my mind.”
Raven wanted to spit on the man’s face. She hated being called girl and she despised being told what to do.
A hand suddenly gripped her wrist. She looked down.
“Please say yes,” Goodwin whispered. “Please, Raven.”
She sighed, taking her time while taking in air and letting it out slowly.
“Yes,” Raven said with reluctance. “I’ll be your apprentice,” she added, trying her best to make ‘apprentice’ sound like a venomous snake.
If Gamayun realized the iciness in her words, he chose to ignore it and responded, “Good.”
“Come down here, now,” Lord Reghan commanded. “And someone clean up this damn mess!”
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* * *
Gamayun’ chambers were located in the East wing of the castle at the top of a long and winding staircase. There were window slits spaced evenly around the room, originally used for archers’ defense of the castle.
Bottles of foul smelling liquids dotted some of the tables around the room. Books were scattered across the other tables, some of them left open. The floor was dusty and littered with dirt, her recent footsteps leaving marks along the thin layer of dust. Giant cobwebs accented the room in practically every corner. Raven hoped she would never see the spiders that were capable of spinning those webs.
“I have two simple rules,” Gamayun said. “Follow them and you’ll be just fine. First rule is you do not touch or remove anything in this room without my direction,” Gamayun said holding up one finger.
Raven nodded.
“Secondly, your little parlor trick in the Great Hall last night was extremely dangerous and foolish. From now on you will not use any of your powers, whatever they might be, without my permission,” Gamayun said. He glared at her for emphasis, his eyes narrowing.
“Powers? What are you talking about?” Raven asked.
“I believe you have the ability to use gem magic. It is a magic that is completely different than metal magic and not many know about it and even less know how to use it. I won’t know for certain until I fully test your abilities.”
“I almost killed people! I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t really mean for anything to happen. I just wanted them to stop talking about the Phoenix like it was some kind of joke. I promise I won’t try it again, not without help. I was… I was just so angry at them, I couldn’t control it.”
“Well, you better learn to control that temper of yours,” Gamayun warned her. “You are very lucky that your powers aren’t more developed, else you might have taken out the entire room. He gave her an intense stare and she lowered her eyes and nodded.
The War Page 8